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Andrew Watkins held on tight as his sister, Sadie, whipped her black Ford Mustang into a parking space. Summer had just begun and the noonday sun was bright and high overhead. "I'm starving!" Sadie exclaimed. The redhead's paper white skin was iridescent bathed in the garish sun. Her brown eyes, rimmed with dark makeup, glinted in the light. A shade of deep crimson coated her lovely lips. The twenty year old's small features gave her a somewhat Slavic or Polish appearance. Her dark eyes became slits when she smiled broadly. Her face was not what most people would call classically beautiful. But, she was extremely cute and her expressions were adorable. All the guys at her college went crazy for Sadie. Plus, the sexy redhead had a body to die for. Sadie opened her car door and placed a pretty, flip-flop clad foot onto the hot asphalt of the Burger King parking lot. The nails on her delicious little toes were painted to match her red lips. She stood and adjusted the black scrunchie affixing the carrot-colored ponytail atop her head, then, nonchalantly pulled her purple tubetop up higher over her wobbly DDD cup breasts. The meager garment was inadequate to contain such well-developed bosoms and was at constant risk of exposing the young woman's nipples. Andrew exited from the passenger side of the vehicle wearing his typical black t-shirt, long brown shorts, and ragged tenny shoes. His deep orange hair was dull and nowhere near as striking as his sister's. Sadie had hair that was long and shining. Andrew had to keep his hair cut short and combed over to one side, the way his grandparent's liked it. Andrew's dress and cheerless appearance made a stark contrast to his older sister's sultry, self-confident display. After Sadie threw a black purse over her shoulder, the siblings started towards the restaurant. Walking a step behind his sister, the eighteen year old male observed the ivory skin of her ample buttcheeks. They spilled out from the leg holes of her tight, black shorts like twin crescent moons. The redhead's gigantic rump was hanging out for the whole world to see. As they strolled, Sadie's generous female flesh bounced and jiggled like Jell-O. Her hefty tits and rotund backside were putting on quite a show. The two siblings were exactly two years and two weeks apart in age. They had been very close as young children. But, the disparate effects of adolescence had driven the brother and sister apart. A shared outing like lunch was a definite rarity. As they entered the noisy, bustling Burger King, that gender disparity became vividly apparent in the reactions Sadie received from the lunchtime crowd. Heads began to snap around and eyes fixed like lasers onto the quaking white skin outrageously displayed by the scantily clad redhead. As Sadie jiggled up to the cash register, Andrew could not help but be aware of the stir caused by his brick shithouse of a sister. Inside, he felt the stabbing pangs of jealousy. Everybody in the place, even women, were staring at Sadie, while Andrew vanished like an invisible man. It was the story of his life. Even their grandparents treated him like a nobody and doted over Sadie like a princess. Andrew wished people would love him like they loved his sister. ------------------------------ "That boy, that boy..." Don Culvert said shaking his head. The sixtyish man's eyes were fixed on his grandson, Andrew, as the sullen teenager ambled down their quiet cul-de-sac, swatting absentmindedly at the ground with a stick. "I just don't know what I'm going to do with that boy." Don was clad in his usual attire of work boots, dark pants, and a white short-sleeve collared shirt with a row of buttons up the front and an eyeglasses case shoved into a single pocket. His dark hair was slicked back with Pomade. The aging electrician took a swig of beer and let out a troubled sigh. He stood across the street from his modest home in the driveway of longtime neighbor, Gary Pinker. Pinker silently watched his friend's red haired grandson wandering aimlessly down the road. It was the first week of June. And the late afternoon sun threw dark shadows over the tree lined street. The youngster grew smaller in the distance. "Hell, he barely graduated high school. And he sure ain't been looking for no job. He ain't even bothered to fill out one application since getting out of school." The man's statement was filled with disgust. "Me and Raylene are at our wits end. I'm telling you. We never had this kind of trouble with Sadie." Pinker's face remained impassive. Inside, however, his heart leapt at the mention of Sadie Watkins' name and his penis stiffened automatically. The forty-three year old had known both Sadie and Andrew since they were small children. Gary Pinker had witnessed firsthand Sadie's dramatic transformation from a scrawny ragamuffin running around barefoot in the neighborhood to a voluptuous redheaded bombshell. It had been both delightful and frustrating to watch the girl's skinny physique plumping up and growing ever curvier until she finally boasted two excessively plump buttocks to go with a stout set of mammary glands. It was like the girl had been inflated with an air hose. Pinker had enjoyed many a private moment jacking off while thinking about her breathtaking metamorphosis. The orgasms he experienced were awesome. "Nope, never had this kind of trouble at all," Don repeated his last musing. "Yeah," his friend nodded weakly. Pinker knew the Culverts' granddaughter had never given them any cause for concern. Two years earlier, Sadie had been a straight-A student and salutatorian of her high school class. The young woman was now enrolled at a nearby university and was doing quite well there also. But, he was also well aware of the inequity in which she and her younger brother had been raised. Praise and encouragement had been heaped upon Sadie, while Andrew had been, at best, ignored. "I don't know," Don drawled. "You're the only one who's been able to get anything out of Andrew. He always did real good when you was coaching him at baseball." "Yeah," Pinker agreed. He thought back to the days when the pale child was trying his best to keep pace with the other, more athletic, boys on the diamond. His favorite recollection was the time when, in the third inning of what was already a victorious rout, Andrew finally got a chance to get in a game early. Standing at the plate with his knees shaking, Andrew swung blindly and made solid contact with a fastball. The ball shot out of the infield, got past a weak player on the opposing team, and rolled into the corner of the outfield. With Coach Pinker exhorting him from the third baseline, Andrew ran as fast as his little legs could go. He reached home plate before the ball got to the cutoff man. Andrew had scored a miraculous inside-the-park homerun. Pinker grinned at the pet name he had given Andrew after the implausible feat. "Slugger and I just hit it off. He was a hustler. A hard worker. Easy to motivate," he said to the older man. "For you! I can't ever get the boy to do a damn thing," Don looked over at the younger man. "Why don't you talk to him. See if you can figure out what the hell is going on inside that head of his." "I can do that," Pinker answered, glancing down the road. Andrew had disappeared. "Tell you what... Since he's needing a job anyway, why don't you let him ride up to Mayflower with me and help out a little on the farm. He can stay with me at the cabin. It'll give me some time to talk with him. And I'll pay him for the work he does." "Sounds good to me. Anything to get his lazy ass moving and doing something besides sitting on the couch," Don grumbled between gulps of beer. "I plan on working up there all weekend. I'm running up Friday morning and coming back late Sunday. He can go with me then, if you like." "I appreciate it, Gary." Don Culvert slapped his buddy on the back. "You're always good to that boy." "My pleasure," Pinker replied. ------------------------------ It was a Thursday and Andrew Watkins was aggravated and bored. He wished there was more fun stuff to do in the summer. His grandparents were on his ass about finding a job. And now, things had gotten even worse. His granddad was going to make him go up and work on his old baseball coach's farm. For a whole weekend. He liked Coach Pinker. A lot. That was not the problem. Andrew's fair skin had never done well when exposed to the hot summer sun. He burned so easily. He just knew that he was going to get terribly sunburned and be miserable and that his coach would keep forcing him to go outside until he got blistered. The thought filled the redhead with a great deal of anxiety. Hard physical labor was not something he looked forward to, either. It was too rough. Too masculine. Andrew hated anything that made him act like a boy. He hated being a boy. Farm work would definitely be an endeavor where he would be expected to act like a boy. "Be tough. Be a man." The small redhead had heard it all his life. Andrew felt sick to his stomach. He thought he might even throw up until something out of the ordinary caught his attention. "I wonder who that is." Andrew Watkins looked over from the front stoop of his grandparents home and saw a small two-door gray Mazda pull into Gary Pinker's driveway across the cul-de-sac. A lanky figure with long light brown hair gathered into a ponytail got out of the car. The person was clad in an oversized shirt, formless slacks, and thong sandals. At first, Andrew thought it was a woman without much of a figure, particularly because the person had such a pretty face. But after doing a double take, he realized that it was a thin, really prissy, man. Stranger still, the person threw the strap of a large purse onto his shoulder. "That is different," the teenager said aloud. He continued to survey the scene. The effeminate male set his car alarm, sashayed up to Pinker's door and rang the bell. In no time, Andrew's former baseball coach answered the door. With a huge smile, Pinker greeted the womanly guy and ushered him inside by wrapping an arm around his waist. "What was that all about?" Andrew sat perplexed. Coach Pinker had certainly been glad to see whoever that was. And putting an arm around the guy sure seemed 'affectionate.' Was his old coach gay? Something about that possibility struck Andrew. It pained him in a way. He had always thought Coach Pinker was handsome. He used to get a funny feeling inside whenever the big man wrapped his arms around Andrew while instructing him on how to swing a baseball bat. Coach's hands were so big and strong. Andrew liked it when he did not shave and his face had dark scratchy hairs. But, Andrew was a boy. Nothing was ever going to happen between them. He knew that. And it made a part of him feel empty inside. He hated the way Coach Pinker always looked at his sister, Sadie. He had a look of hunger in his eyes like she was something to eat- like Sadie was a hamburger and he was starving. Andrew wished Coach would look at him like that. But, he knew it would never happen. Sadie was beautiful and had big boobs and everybody loved her. Nobody loved Andrew. When they were both little, everyone used to say how much he and Sadie looked alike. People used to say they looked like twins two years apart. But, all that had stopped. Sadie got boobs and hips and Andrew stayed the same. Only now, he was not the same as he used to be. He was still the same height as his sister. But, he was eighteen and his face was starting to get hard and his muscles were starting to get bulky. Andrew hated it. He was a late bloomer, staying small longer than all the other boys at his school. He had liked that. It made him feel gender neutral. It gave him hope that, somehow, he might escape manhood and miraculously grow breasts and a big butt like his sister. But, it was just a wish. One that was gone. Andrew stared at the car in Coach's driveway. He wondered if Coach was gay. What they were doing in there? A stab of jealousy overcame the redhead. If Coach Pinker was gay, maybe that should be Andrew in there and not that other person. But, Andrew was not gay. Or, was he? He thought about how feminine that guy had looked. Andrew really did think he was a woman at first. Part of him wished that he had the guts to act more girly instead of always having to hide how he feels. He had wanted to be a girl for as long as he could remember. He detested having to act like a boy. Andrew envied the driver of the little Mazda. If that was the kind of person Coach liked, Andrew could act like that. He wished he knew for sure. Who knows? It might make him feel better to be able to act like a girl... Maybe he was gay. Andrew sat in front of his grandparent's house feeling sick and confused. Nightfall came around about 9pm and Andrew took Sadie's chocolate Labrador, Reckless, out to pee. While Sadie was off having fun in her black Mustang, Andrew was home taking care of her dog. How come he didn't get money for the down payment on a car when he graduated? Because, everything he did was shit. Reckless was taking a shit of his own in the vacant lot next door while Andrew held his leash. The night was very hot and humid. Even the simple faded black t shirt and olive drab shorts the redhead wore seemed like too much clothing. Fireflies blinked in the lawns surrounding him. A choir of cicadas screamed into the air. And the mosquitoes were out in force. Andrew heard voices coming from across the street. He looked over to see Coach Pinker standing on his front stoop. He was kissing a hot woman in a tank top and short skirt. The two were locked in a passionate embrace. After a few moments of tenderness, the woman stepped down into the driveway. That allowed Andrew to get a good look at her. The longhaired woman was not overly busty. But, she definitely had a nice pair of braless tits wiggling underneath her top. To Andrew's surprise, the woman unlocked the gray Mazda, threw her purse into the backseat, and climbed in. Andrew stood slack-jawed as the woman drove off into the night. An astonishing realization came over the teenager. It was the same person! That really hot looking woman was the same man who had arrived only hours earlier. Same face. Same purse. Same thong sandals. But, that body was certainly not the same. The first outfit was baggy. But, those clothes could not have concealed the curves that gorgeous lady had. No way. "Andy!" The boy nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard his name shouted. "Hey, Slugger! You got a minute?" It was Coach Pinker. Andrew stood frozen like a deer in headlights. His brain was still trying to process everything he had just seen. "I... I... Uhh..." T he teenager's mouth was moving. But, nothing coherent was coming out. Gary Pinker was wearing khaki slacks and a light blue knit shirt with an open collar. His feet were bare. The six foot tall man stepped out into his yard and waked to the curb. "What's with you, Slugger?" he asked laughing. "Cat got your tongue?" "Umm... No," Andrew said. His voice was barely audible. "I was... Umm..." "Taking Reckless out to do his business." Pinker finished the sentence for him. "Yes." "Hey, I'm really looking forward to tomorrow. I really think you'll like it up there on the farm." Pinker's warm smile beamed down at the young redhead. He towered over the much smaller male. It made Andrew feel like a kid again. "Yeah... I'm... looking forward to it." "Great!" Gary smiled broadly. "It's been a long time since we spent some time together and talked, man-to-man, just you and me." "Yes," Andrew nodded. "It's been a long time." "Well, I'll come over to your house about 8:30 tomorrow morning and we'll ride up in ol'Blue. How's that sound?" "Okay." "Cool. I'll see you in the morning, Slugger!" Andrew watched as the older man retreated into his home. For a while, the teenager stood in the darkening cul-de-sac as Reckless sniffed the grass around his feet. Curious bewilderment filled his mind. He knew a man had gone into Coach's house and a woman had come out. And it was the same person. There was no doubt in his mind. Even though, that was impossible. There had to be a logical solution to this peculiar mystery. ------------------------------ "I'm glad you decided to come along, Slugger. It'll be like old times." The forty-five minute drive from the city into the rural section of state had been marked by small talk that seemed strained at best. Gary Pinker felt a palpable anxiety coming off the younger male who rode beside him on the bench seat of the old pickup truck. For his part, Andrew Watkins stared out the passenger side window. His lips were pursed tightly. It was not that he wanted to spurn Coach's friendship. He just had other thoughts on his mind. The prospect of doing the type of work typically designated for men and the likelihood of getting badly sunburned still weighed heavily upon him. "I don't spend too much time outside," the teen remarked. His brown eyes scanned the gray sky. "At least, it's cloudy." "Why do you say that?" Pinker asked. "You don't like sunny days?" "I get sunburned real easy," Andrew stated flatly. "My granddad wouldn't let me bring sunscreen." Pinker looked over at the fair-skinned redhead. His own skin was deeply tanned. It never occurred to him that the pale youth might suffer from experiencing long-term exposure to the sun. "I'm sorry," the older man said. Compassion showed in his deep set black eyes and upon the sharp features of his face. "Well, I was planning on stopping at the little country store up ahead to get us a couple of sandwiches. I'm sure they have sunscreen of some kind." "Sure," Andrew droned. This was worse than Pinker had imagined. His former ballplayer seemed to have no joy whatsoever. There had to be some reason for Andrew's dark melancholy. And the older man was determined to find it. A few minutes later Pinker steered the old blue Chevy pickup off the two-lane highway and into the asphalt parking lot of the Trading Post Grocery. A brass bell tinkled atop the door as the two companions entered the rural store. The clerk working at the cash register was a petite redhead named Miranda. She was only about five foot tall but she had the most humongous breasts Andrew had ever seen- even bigger than Sadie's. Andrew did not know that it was possible for someone so small to have such gigantic boobs. The young woman was quite friendly with a thick country accent. While Miranda made sandwiches, she and Andrew had a conversation about having red hair and white skin while Pinker ogled her enormous honkers and attempted to look suave. Before they left Coach bought Andrew some sunscreen. As the two climbed back into the truck, Andrew felt the familiar jealousy he experienced whenever he was around a large-chested female. "She was big," he said, baiting a reaction from his companion. "I'll say!" Coach gushed. "Them puppies were huge!" Andrew turned his attention back out the window. A small herd of cows were grazing in an open field as the truck sped past. The teenager looked at the animals' dangling udders. He felt jealous of them, too. Pinker turned the truck off the paved highway onto a dirt country lane. The tires of the truck churned up a trail of dust. The fields lining the dirt road were less cultivated than the ones adjacent to the main stretch of road. The barbwire fencelines along the path were being swallowed by a tangled undergrowth of high grass and scrub brush. The truck climbed up a hill and then eased down it before coming upon an orange painted gate. "This is where my land starts," Coach explained pointing at the gate. "Just hang tight." He shifted the blue pickup to a halt and slid out of the cab, leaving his driver's door open. He strode across the earthen pathway with effortless agility. Andrew watched the older man's movements. Everything he did was strong and with purpose. Dressed in a white t- shirt and khaki shorts, Andrew could see that his former coach still had vigor in his lean muscular body. His brown, hairy legs looked particularly strong. It made the redhead feel like a child all over again. "You've never been up here, have you?" Coach asked as he hopped back into the vehicle. "No. I haven't," Andrew replied meekly. "Well, I think you'll like it. I love it up here." The tanned male steered ol'Blue down the rough road. Andrew was a little surprised by the effect the uneven terrain had on the pickup. The vibration of his body was so strong that he reflexively clutched the armrest on the passenger door. After the quaking truck traveled about a quarter of a mile, the dirt lane opened up into an expanse of field with a modest farmhouse situated about an acre from where the meadow turned into densely forested woods. Thick wooden rails joined by stumplike posts formed a rectangle fence around the cabin and created the perimeter of a yard. Pinker pulled the pickup through an opening in the fence and parked in the front yard. "This is it." He smiled and looked over at his young charge. "My home away from home." The man got out and Andrew nervously paralleled the action. As he stepped into the ankle-high weeds, grasshoppers were sent flying in all directions from his feet. Even though he had been raised in what is considered the Deep South, Andrew grew up around concrete and urban buildings. He was not a country boy by a stretch. The bugs did nothing to ease the apprehension he felt about this situation. It was 10:45 in the morning. The clouds had parted and the June sun had begun to blaze down upon the earth. Andrew wished that he had not worn shorts. His old gray t-shirt would protect his arms to the elbow. But his forearms, like his face and neck, would need a coat of sunscreen as much as his thin legs. Holding the plastic Trading Post sack, Gary Pinker opened an unlocked sliding glass door and nodded at his farmhouse. "C'mon, Slugger. I'll show you the inside." A s the teenager started towards him, Coach gave him a quick reminder. "Don't forget your bag." Andrew retrieved a gym bag from the bed of the pickup and followed his former coach into a big room flooded with sunlight. Three of the room's walls were entirely made up of sliding glass doors. The third wall adjoining the house proper, was covered with 1970's style wood paneling. Green and yellow indoor/outdoor carpet covered the floor. A buck deer head with huge antlers was mounted on the paneled wall accompanied by a couple of paintings of mallard ducks in flight. The room was decorated with inexpensive, rugged looking furniture. A dining set, a sofa and chairs and an old rocking chair made up the rooms rustic d?cor. "This used to be the carport" Coach explained. "But, my uncle and I converted it into a sunroom a few years ago." "It's nice," Andrew smiled. Although, he was still too nervous to truly appreciate the room. "Let's get some air moving in here," Coach said as he reached overhead and clicked to life two brass ceiling fans with frosted light fixtures. The bulbs remained unlit as the blades of the fans began swirling movement into the stale, warm air. Pinker opened glass doors on the front and rear of the house leaving the screen doors shut. The airflow in the room increased substantially. "That ought to do it," Coach announced, seemingly satisfied with the rooms new condition. He then resumed his tour of the farmhouse. "This is the battery system," he said, opening what appeared to be a freestanding cabinet in the corner of the room. "This whole cabin is wired to run off this battery. If the main power goes out, this place will still be up and running. Take a look." Andrew bent at the waist to see a black box with a series of lids across the top. "You fill these with distilled water every couple of months. Distilled water only," Coach clarified. "I'll show you how to do it later on." He pointed to a closet that had been built into the wood paneling. "That's where I keep all the brooms and mops and household cleaners," he said. "There's also a crawlspace hidden in the back where I keep the VCR for the security camera system. Did you see the cameras when we drove up?" "No," Andrew answered. "You're not supposed to," Coach said bemusedly. "One's in the gable with the weather vane on the roof. Another is in the garden shed. And the third one is in the top of the shed out back." Andrew nodded. "This is my bedroom." Pinker walked through a large encased doorway on the paneled wall and into a bedroom. The room had a quaint old-time country feel. The only thing modern in it was a dusty Macintosh computer on the dresser. "Pretty much self-explanatory," Coach remarked dismissively waving his hand as he passed through the room. "And this..." He walked out the other door in the room and down a short hallway. "is where you'll be sleeping." The bedroom was slightly smaller and narrower than the other and contained two twin beds. The carpet in the room was also different than the indoor/outdoor carpeting in the rest of the cabin. A deep gold shag covered the floor. Off-white comforters and drapes matched the walls. "You can leave your stuff in here," Coach pointed. "Just pitch it there on the bed. Andrew wordlessly complied. His older friend still sensed an acute discomfort in the teenager's demeanor. It hurt his feelings in a way that surprised him. "The main part of the cabin..." Coach began while turning back into the hallway, "is the den." Andrew walked behind Coach into the biggest room. A fireplace on the far wall dominated the area. There was more rustic furniture. Andrew was glad to see a 20inch television with a built-in DVD player. He was even happier to note that a cable line ran out the back of the set and into the wall behind it. In one corner of the room sat an antique wood-burning stove. Paintings of wildlife and country landscapes adorned the walls. The kitchen was spacious and opened into the den. It even had a bar and barstools. Pinker walked over and put the sandwiches in the kitchen fridge and removed the tube of sunscreen from the plastic bag. "You want this?" Coach asked holding up the sunscreen. "Not right now," the pale youth answered. "Well, it'll be here if you need it." The man set the tube down on the counter of the bar and tossed the bag into a trash can beside the refrigerator. He then strolled across the room. "Let's get a little light on the subject." Pinker pulled the cords attached to a set of gold drapes next to the room's front door. As he did, the room was flooded with light from a picture window looking out onto the front yard and dirt road. "Well, this is it." The man smiled, raising his hands. He looked at Andrew trying to gauge the redhead's reaction. "I like it." The teenager nodded while working up a faint smile. Pinker knew the younger male was only placating him. There were probably a million other places Andrew Watkins would rather be. Still, there they both were. Pinker decided to try and make the teenager's weekend as painless as possible. "You ready to get started on something?" he asked. "Sure," Andrew responded dully. "It won't be that bad. I promise." Coach took Andrew outside. The bright sunlight played off the treetops in the woods nearby and illuminated the golden hay growing in the vast meadow behind the farmhouse. Grasshoppers continued their frantic escape in fear of being trampled by the twosome's footsteps. Insect sounds abounded all around. The temperature was climbing. The day was going to be scorching. Andrew glanced back at the cabin. Maybe, he really should go back in there and cover himself with sunscreen. Pinker led his young friend to a metal shed with a large awning attached to it. Under the canopy were a red tractor and a riding lawnmower. Andrew knew what they were. But, they sat alongside various other implements he was clueless to identify. The whole area reeked of gasoline. "I've got two sheds out front here. The main shed and the garden shed," Pinker explained. "This one is the main shed. The one out back is the back shed. Got it?" "Got it." Andrew tried to sound interested but he was rapidly becoming bored out of his mind. If it were not for his anxiety, he thought he could fall asleep standing there. "Alright, I'll show you how to hook the battery charger up to this thing," Coach said as his patted the hood of the lawnmower. "It's pretty simple, really." Andrew listened with as much attention as he could muster while Coach exposed the engine of the riding lawn mower and explained about red on red and black on black while hooking up the charger to the mower's battery. The older man plugged the charger into an outlet on the front of the shed. "That's all you got to do," he grinned. "We'll give that about thirty minutes on the charger and I'll let you get started on the yard." "Okay," Andrew nodded weakly. "Over here is the garden," Coach indicated as he took Andrew across the dirt road and into a field that had been tilled and plowed into neat rows. Green sprouts of vegetation stuck up out of the ground like the stubble of a beard. Even to a city boy, it was apparent that the garden had recently been sown. "I tell you what..." Coach Pinker began. "I'll put you in charge of two rows." He walked to the far side of the garden and indicated the furthest line of plants. "Over here are the tomatoes. And right here next to them are the carrots. Take a look." Andrew ambled over. To him, being closer did not matter much. There really wasn't anything to see. "I'll show you how to use fertilizer and insecticide to keep the bugs off. By the end of the summer you'll be able to eat some food that you've actually grown yourself." "Cool," Andrew responded impassively. "Well, if you want," Pinker said, taken back by the teenager's apathy. "Sure." "Okay." The second response was no more enthusiastic than the first. Pinker began to wonder if there was anything the boy could get excited about. The teen's dull reaction rattled the older man. "I, uh, keep all the garden tools and supplies in here." By a barbwire fence that separated the garden from the road sat another shed just like the first. A black rusting trailer sat underneath this shed's canopy. Pinker opened the shed door and he and Andrew stepped inside. The small interior smelled like fertilizer and gasoline. Andrew could see a VCR on one of the shelves. He surmised that it was hooked up to the security camera Coach had mentioned earlier. "We've got time to spread a little of this on your tomato plants," Coach stated as he lifted a green and white bottle from the shed floor. The older man spent the next half-hour instructing the pale youth on how to apply fertilizer to the small plants. "The key is not to put too much and not to put too little," he emphasized. Andrew went down on one knee and tried to follow his Coach's directions exactly. "Good. Very good," Coach encouraged. "You're a natural at this. You're gonna have some fine-looking tomatoes in no time." Andrew nodded. He certainly did not expect to be nurturing the plants to maturity. That would mean coming back up here all summer long. And that wasn't happening. "You about ready to get started on that lawn?" Coach asked. "Sure." They put the fertilizer in the garden shed and walked back across the road. Pinker ushered Andrew over to the riding lawnmower. "Jump on up there," Coach directed. He watched as Andrew straddled the mower and his skinny backside plopped down onto the vinyl seat cushion. "These are your gears," Gary Pinker said, grasping the shifter. "You'll want to keep it in 3rd mostly. This is your clutch. And this is your brake." Pinker continued lining the boy out until he thought the teenager had a grasp of the basics. "Alright, go ahead and fire her up and put her in reverse." "Just start it up like a car?" Andrew asked with a note of embarrassment in his voice. "Just like a car." The apprehensive teenager turned the small metal key in the ignition. The mower's engine roared to life. "This lowers your blade. This raises your blade," Coach shouted above the noisy motor. He gripped a lever next to the seat. "Keep it in the middle setting. I don't want to burn up the yard." Andrew nodded his carrot-colored head. "Go ahead and back her up. Take her on out," Coach directed. Hesitantly, Andrew shifted the mower into reverse. It was a weak effort. But, he did it. He rolled backwards at a snail's pace. Pinker had never seen a male so timid when it came to handling such equipment. He walked beside Andrew and helped him put the mower into a forward gear. "Go ahead and start wherever you like. Just try and make a rectangular pattern around the cabin. You know, like you're making laps," Coach yelled while making a rectangular motion with his hand. "Don't worry about trying to get right next to the house or the fence. We'll hit that with a weedeater later." Andrew nodded and started riding the mower briskly around the outskirts of the yard. "Lower your blade!" Coach yelled running after him. "Lower your blade!" Startled, the redhead stopped moving completely. The engine whined to a stall. "What happened?" Andrew asked with his voice breaking. Mortified by his ineptness, the teenagers face turned a shade of beet red. "The engine stalled," Coach explained. "And you forgot to lower your blade." The man reached over and moved the lever next to Andrew. He then shifted the gears. "There. Go ahead and fire her back up." Andrew restarted the motor and resumed his path around the yard. He was embarrassed about forgetting to lower the blade and stalling the mower. It made him feel stupid. He hated man's work. The redhead guided the riding lawnmower around the fenceline. Now, shavings of grass spurted out from the undercarriage. Andrew ran along the fence at the side of the yard. There was another shed in the backyard. This one did not have an awning, however, and Andrew maneuvered around it successfully. Despite his contempt at being forced to perform this 'masculine' task, he felt a sense of accomplishment that surprised him. On the other side of the yard, Andrew could see Coach lying on his back underneath the big red tractor. The redhead rolled back into the front yard and quickly inspected the skin on his forearms and legs. He was glistening with perspiration, but there was no sign of sunburn yet. He was not sure how long it would take to mow the whole yard. But, he figured he would have to apply some sunscreen before he was through. After about six times around the house, Andrew had mowed a considerable portion of the yard. He was about a third of the way done when he heard Coach's voice hollering at him. "Hey, kill the engine!" Pinker was making a throat-slashing sign with his hand. Andrew turned the ignition off. "Let's go eat a bean," Coach said. He was wiping his hands with an oily red rag. The front of his shirt was smeared with grease. His shorts were dusty. Sweat was pouring off his face and soaking the neck of his shirt. "Eat a bean?" The teenager looked confused. "Eat lunch," Coach laughed. "You've never heard that term before?" "No," Andrew smiled. "I've never head that one before." "You've got to be getting hungry about now, though." "I'm starving!" Inside the farmhouse, the two of them washed their hands in the kitchen sink. Andrew finished first and stood next to the bar. When Pinker finished, he toweled off his hands and grabbed the sandwiches out of the fridge. "Want a beer?" he asked Andrew as he pulled a longneck from one of the refrigerator shelves. "Um... I-I... Um..." The boy stood there stammering confused and startled by the offer. "I'm kidding," Coach laughed. "I got a bunch of stuff in here to drink, though. I got Coke. I got Diet Coke. Bottled water." "Diet Coke is fine," Andrew said softly. Diet Coke. The choice surprised Pinker. He did not know many boys that drank diet anything. He handed the silver aluminum can to the redhead. "Let's eat in the sunroom." The overhead fans were still swirling as they sat down at a light- colored dining set in the converted carport. At the head of the table, Pinker took a long swig of beer and bit a chunk out of his sandwich. Pinker made small talk about repairing a hydraulic line on the tractor as they ate. As hungry as they were, it did not take long for either of them to finish their meal. It was then that the conversation became more serious. "You really don't want to be here. Do you, Slugger?" Coach sighed. "I don't know," the teenager shrugged. "Why don't you grab a seat on the couch," the older man suggested. He watched as Andrew obediently stood and moved over to the sofa. Pinker turned his wooden dining chair towards the youth. "Let's have a talk." Andrew eased himself down onto one of the cushions. The couch was much more comfortable than it looked. Still, the teenager's body could not have been tenser. "You know, it's been a long time since we've really talked. And that's my fault. It really is," the older man began. He gazed into the younger male's wide brown eyes but saw no response. "Your granddad said you've been really down lately. And I was wondering if there was anything I could help you with." "What do you mean down?" Andrew asked. "He said you seem like something is really bothering you. You almost flunked out of school last year. You barely graduated. He told me that you don't want to go to college. And you haven't been looking for a job." "Yeah." Andrew's voice was hollow. His eyes were distant. "You used to be a hard little worker, Slugger. You were my little Charlie Hustle running around those base paths." Coach paused. "What's bothering you, Andy. Something's wrong. I can tell." "I don't know..." Andrew's voice trailed off. The room grew quiet. It was unbearably hot. Even the whirl of the ceiling fans seemed to do little to dissipate the oppressive heat. The air seemed as heavy as the internal burden that was crushing him. He had never told anyone why his life was so bad. And it was bad. He did not have many friends at school or in the neighborhood. And there was no one that he was really close to- except for Sadie. And she was a big part of the problem. A tear ran down the redhead's pale cheek. "Whoa. Hey. What's wrong, buddy?" The larger man scooted his chair forward and put his hand over Andrew's. "Tell the old ball coach what's going on with you and I'll help fix it." "It's just... I don't know." The teenager's lips were quivering. "Is it something to do with your grandparents?" Coach pressed. "You can tell me anything, Slugger." Andrew was fighting back tears and failing. A few dripped onto the front of his shirt. Years of a suffering were teaming up with the days anxiety to fray the last of his mental defenses. Andrew was breaking down. "It's my grandparents. It's Sadie. It's you," the boy blubbered. "It's everybody." The tormented teen could no longer contain the perpetual sorrow within him. He began to sob. Gary Pinker gripped the thin redhead's hand tighter. He stared intently at Andrew. "It's okay, buddy," the coach said softly but with authority. "It's gonna be alright. Whatever it is, we can fix it." "I don't think you can fix this." Andrew fought to catch his breath. "This isn't something you fix." "What do you mean? Tell me what's going on." "It's just that..." He gulped down more air. Then the pain of his life gushed out in a verbal torrent. He had wanted to spew it all for years. "Everybody loves Sadie and they don't love me. They are always talking about how great she is. And everything I do is shit. And even you are always staring at her 'cause she's got big boobs. And I hate being a boy." Pinker's eyebrows raised. His head tilted backwards. For a moment he was stunned. "I see," he said softly upon regaining his composure. "You think I'm fucked up," Andrew whimpered. "Not at all, Slugger. Not at all." The man's voice was serious. "But, it does explain a lot. A whole lot." "What do you mean?" The redhead's chest was visibly shaking as he wiped at his tears. "Well, the depression, the apathy. It explains why you always look so hopeless." The coach released the younger male's hand and sat back. "How long have you hated being a boy?" "My whole life, I guess. As long as I can remember." Andrew wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "It just keeps getting worse and worse." "Why is that?" "Everybody used to say me and Sadie looked so much alike. But, now they don't say that no more. Obviously." The trembling youth looked down at himself disdainfully, as if his body were a disappointment. "We go places and people stare at her. Like the other day when we went to Burger King." "What happened at Burger King?" "Well, Sadie was wearing this purple tube top that she has and these black shorts that she knows are too small for her. And when we went into the Burger King together all these, like, construction worker guys were staring at her boobs and her butt and stuff. And her boobs are all big and her tube top is, like, really small. So her boobs were, like, all hanging out and her ass was hanging out. I could tell that she liked them looking at her." "Really." Pinker felt his dick getting hard. Picturing the scene in his head was giving him a considerable erection. He repositioned himself on his chair and tried not to let his excitement show. He had yet to see Sadie in that particular outfit. It was something to look forward to. "How did that make you feel?" Coach asked studying the younger male's face. "I don't know." The boy paused and stared at the hands in his lap. He fidgeted with his fingers. "Jealous, I guess." "You wanted those men to be looking at you?" "Yes," Andrew nodded. "To be looking at both of us." "Ah, I gotcha." "And then there was this one time. We were at a soccer game and Sadie was, like, chasing these little kids around and playing with them. This guy, like, sitting in front of me told his friend that he wanted to put his head between her tits and give her a Bronski. And then he did like this..." Andrew demonstrated by raising his hands up to bring an imaginary pair of breasts to his face. "Bbbbbbrrrronski!" The boy rapidly moved his face back and forth while making a sound that was something akin to a motorboat. Pinker felt like he might cum right then and there. "Well," he said shifting uncomfortably. "It sure seems like you remember a lot of situations where guys were gawking at your sister." "Yeah," Andrew shrugged. "I guess so." "So, that is what you are so upset about," Coach inquired. "You want to be like your sister." "Yes. It's not fair," the teenager lamented. "I went into her room onetime when, like, nobody else was home. And I got one of her bras out. And it was so freakin' BIG. I looked at the tag on it. And it said 36DDD. That is, like, freakin' HUGE!" "It's pretty damn big," Coach stated pensively. He had tried to judge Sadie's bra size. He had underestimated her by a cup. There was a long pause. Pinker locked his eyes onto the teenager's face. Head lowered, Andrew did not return his gaze. "Did you put her bra on?" the older man asked. "Yes." "I thought so," Coach said knowingly. "How did that make you feel?" "Puny. Like I wished I could fill up the cups." "I bet you would like that." "Yes." "So would I." Andrew looked up suddenly and met the older man's stare. Surely, he had heard wrong. There was no way his coach really wanted him to have big boobs like Sadie. And then Andrew thought about the person in the gray Mazda. "How old are you now, Slugger?" Pinker asked. "Eighteen," the redhead whispered. "Perfect." ------------------------------ "I want you to trust me, Andy. You're my little Slugger," Coach said softly. "Just slip out of them little drawers you got on there." Coach's bedroom was sweltering. Still, Andrew was trembling as he stood there wearing nothing but a pair of tighty-whiteys. Andrew hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear. The redhead looked up at the much larger man with fear in his big brown eyes. "Like a doe in headlights," Coach Pinker mused silently. He spoke reassuringly. "I know you want me to see." "Yes," the teenager whispered with a mixture of passion and defeat. "Go ahead," Coach implored. "Take off them little panties." As Gary Pinker looked on in delight, Andrew Watkins timidly slid the underwear down his bare legs. The coach's dark deep-set eyes grew wider as he drank in the sight. The teen's miniscule, snow-white buttcheeks were high and tight. As his underwear came down, the smallest of erections popped out from Andrew's naked groin. When the trembling redhead bent to remove the underwear from around his feet, his exposed testicles peeked out from under his boyish buttocks. His entire scrotum was barely larger than a golf ball. Eyes lowered, Andrew stood up straight, still clutching his tighty- whiteys. He could feel Coach's eyes studying his naked body. The teenager's erection testified to his excitement, though he bit his lower lip in shame. Pinker felt like his dick was going to explode. He had never wanted to fuck someone this badly before. "Do you want to see mine?" The older man indicated the obvious erection tenting his boxers. Andrew looked over and licked his lips unconsciously. "Yes," he replied weakly. Coach Pinker needed no more prompting. He swiftly yanked down his underwear. The naked redhead gasped as the man's male organ sprang out. The rigid penis was easily nine inches. Its head was purple. The thick shaft was lined with bulging veins. A pair of beefy testicles hung from beneath Coach's dick like a bull. "You like?" Coach asked with a wry smile. "Yes," Andrew replied breathlessly. "Oh, yes." "I can tell!" The older man laughed. "Are you ready to do this?" Andrew looked over at the old Macintosh computer screen sitting upon the dresser. Pinker had pulled a JPEG image off of the redhead's myspace page and uploaded it to a website proclaiming to be The Presto- Chango Dating Service. The photo was now on a Presto-Chango profile page and displayed on the internet for the whole world to see. The teenager could still not believe how the image had been altered. The dorky hairstyle in it was still his. So was the face. Although, it was noticeably more feminine than it had originally been. Andrew was smiling over a naked shoulder. Even more astonishing were the giant buttcheeks and huge slab of bare tit on the nude body. Shown at an angle from the rear, the voluptuous torso was a superlative example of feminine fecundity. Andrew was thunderstruck by the photo. He looked like Sadie. When he finally tore his eyes away from gawking at the picture, he saw the reflection of his naked male body in the mirror behind the monitor. "Yes," he blurted. "I'm ready to do it." "Here goes..." Coach said chuckling. Andrew heard the click of the 'enter' button being pushed on the keyboard. Then the universe shifted. A wave of intoxication rolled over him. He thought he might fall. Tingling sensations started at the top of his head and soon swam throughout his whole body. He could feel the tiny genitals between his legs puckering and drawing up into his body cavity. She tried to look down at her groin. But the grogginess prevented her. As soon as her privates stopped shifting, Andrew felt her hips expanding and an increasing heaviness in her backside. Her chest was wobbling. Two distinct mounds of fat were now sitting upon her ribcage and growing larger by the second. Andrew's whole body was vibrating. It was like she was going through puberty at hyperspeed. She could feel the considerable weight she now possessed on her butt and chest jiggling tremendously. The shaking began to slow. The fog in her head was clearing. Andrew looked down at her new body for the first time. "Holy shit!" Coach whooped at her side. "You're built like a fuckin' brick shithouse!" It was true. A dense triangle of orange pubic hair rested above the vagina which designated Andrew's new sex. The redhead's formerly scrawny male body had become absolutely stupefying. Her inflated torso now sported huge jutting breasts and massive rounded buttocks. Pink areolas, as big around as softballs, dominated the ends of her spectacular tits. They were thick and puffy and speckled with raised bumps. The big nipples that popped out from her areolas looked as wide as Pinker's middle finger. The teenager's hips and ass had grown to staggering proportions. Her gigantic rump stopped just short of freakishness. Even her formerly thin arms and legs had become plump and voluptuous. Andrew had blown up like a parade float. It had taken about ninety seconds for young Andrew to undergo the same amazing metamorphosis that it had taken Sadie five years to complete. And Gary Pinker had been eyewitness to it all. Up close. In Person. He stood awestruck in his farmhouse bedroom feverishly stroking the shaft of his throbbing erection. This was like looking at Sadie Watkins' body with his little Slugger's head on top. There had been only subtle changes to Andrew's face. But, it was surprising how much those minor differences had made the newly fashioned female look like her sister. The only thing that had gone unaltered was her short hairstyle. Andrew's mind could not comprehend what had happened to her. She gaped down in shock and disbelief at the heavy pendulous breasts hanging from her chest. Only repeated slaps upon her buttcheeks woke the curvy redhead from her catatonic state. The transformed teen regained consciousness to the feeling of Coach Pinker juggling her overgrown buttocks. The force of the older man's bun handling caused Andrew's pretty feet to raise up on their tiptoes. With a wild look in his eyes, Pinker had a butt cheek in each hand, maniacally shaking the fattened globes. He could not believe that this was the same ass. It had been so small. And it had gotten so big. The Watkins girls had the most incredible rumps he had ever seen. And he was getting to play with this one. Pinker was beside himself with exhilaration. He fell to his knees just to be closer to the prodigious posterior. It was so creamy white. The young flesh was so smooth. There was not a spot of cellulite on its flawless skin. It looked delicious. Coach Pinker gripped Andrew by her ample hips and thrust his face into her ass flesh. He alternated biting down on each of her ivory cheeks before finally shoving his entire face between them. "I worship this ass," He inhaled deeply and drank in the sweet odor of Andrew's rectum. "Worship this big fat ass." It was the kind of male attention Andrew had longer for her whole life. She automatically began to flex and release her glute muscles as if she were trying to suck Coach's face into her buttcrack. "Oh, yeah," Pinker moaned. "That's it, baby. That's my little Slugger." Andrew turned her head towards the mirror. She now looked just like the JPEG image on the computer. The Presto-Chango Dating Service had done exactly what Coach said it would. It blew her mind how much she resembled Sadie. Andrew's body was plump all over. The feminine ornaments on her chest were mammoth. Her booty was huge and ripe. Obviously, her old baseball coach found it enticing. Andrew watched as Pinker buried his face in her ass in an act of erotic adulation. "I told you, you'd have some fine-looking tomatoes in no time," he sniffed. The feeling of Coach's face between her buttocks made Andrew's pussy lather. She reached up and began to fondle her meaty tits. Pleasure shot through her body. Soon, the tops of her hairless thighs were wet with pussy juice. She felt Coach's finger push up inside of her vagina. Her legs stiffened and her body shuddered. "Do you like that?" Pinker gasped. "Oh yes, Coach!" Andrew squeaked. "Is this what you wanted?" "Yes!" Pinker felt the redhead clamp down on his knuckle. This was the horniest female he had ever been with. "Damn. That pussy is tight!" he thought as the girl masturbated herself with his finger. He was about to change that. "What do you want me to do to you now, Slugger?" Pinker snarled. What do you want me to do to you." "I... Ow! I-I... Owww!" The man sensed reluctance in the former male to answer. He pressed harder- both with his speech and with his hand. "You're gonna have to say it," he growled. "Tell me what you want me to do to you, Slugger." "Fuck me, Coach!" the girl shrieked. "I want you to fuck me!" Coach Pinker slid his slickened finger out of the redhead's vagina. He sprang to his feet and quickly pushed the trembling girl facedown onto the bed. He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her to the edge of the mattress. Her groin was perfectly positioned for entry. Pinker reached underneath the teen and pulled her big tits outwards. He laughed at the sight. Laying on her stomach with her huge knockers splayed out at her sides, Andrew looked like she had titty wings. Her brown eyes looked up at him from over her bare shoulder. They were filled with both fear and desire. She knew what was coming next. Coach held her by the buttocks and pressed the tip of his swollen penis at the entrance of her sopping vagina. The slickened lips were unbelievably pink. It was the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He breeched it with a single thrust. Andrew felt the head stab into her. She tensed up. Pinker waited a moment. Feeling the teen relax slightly, he began shoving more of his meat into her. Inch after inch of dick snaked its way up Andrew's vagina. She could feel it opening her insides. She thought it would split her in half. But, she never wanted it to end. Pinker felt a slight pressure on the head of his organ. He knew what that meant. He paused and took a breath before performing a single hard stroke that ruptured the girl's brand new hymen. Andrew's head came up off the bed. She felt the membrane in her vaginal canal give way. Coach Pinker had busted her cherry. She felt the hair on Coach's groin brushing against the tender flesh of her taint. Then the pumping began. Coach began to fuck Andrew like a madman. Over and over he thrust. He was ramming the poor girl like he was mad at her. "Oooooooo-mmmmmmm...Coach! Oh, Coach! Ow-Ooooooowwwwww! Andrew sniveled like a child. But, the thick tool felt wonderful inside of her. She loved the sensation of her humongous boobs grinding into the bed as Coach rode her. It felt so good. She grabbed her puffy nipples and began roughly kneading and twisting them. Pinker watched with glee as his former player pleasured her own chest. His thrusting quickened. "You like that don't you, Slugger?" Coach howled. "You like that." "Oooooo-yes! Yes, Coach! I love it!" the girl shrieked. The lust-crazed man leered at the vast ass flesh jiggling in his hands as he shook Andrew's buns. Pinker had endured years watching Sadie Watkins' mind-boggling figure with masturbation as his only relief. And all that time, he had also cared deeply for her younger brother, Andrew. Now, here were those same staggering curves on the body of the kid he loved so much. And his dick was buried in her. Pinker was ecstatic. This was a dream come true. Coach lifted Andrew's ankles until her legs were bent at the knees. He held them in that position and pounded the whimpering girl repeatedly into the mattress. The muscles in Andrew's legs began to cramp as Coach used her ankles like the handles of a wheelbarrow to fuck her. "Owwww! Ow-ow-owwww!" she cried. Pinker recognized that this was not the sound of sexual bliss. He felt Andrew trying to get her legs free. He released his grip. The redhead immediately straightened her fleshy legs. "What's wrong, Slugger?" the man asked. His dick was still shoved up the girl's twat to the hilt. "Cramps," the stuffed teen whined, reaching for her leg. Coach pulled his dick out of her hole. A gaping cavity now existed where a closed opening had been. Pinker felt extremely proud of himself. He got out from between Andrew's thighs and let the girl loosen up her cramping muscles. As she sat on the bed massaging her pleasingly plump legs, Pinker marveled at what his little Slugger had become. She was gorgeous. He could not contain his giddiness. It was too much fun watching Andrew's pendulous tits wobble on the tops of her thighs as she bent to rub her calves. "Look at those fucking gazongas!" he laughed. Andrew looked up at him with wide brown eyes. "Gazongas?" She queried. The teen looked down at the bosoms lying on her legs, then back up at Coach. She looked so feminine. So girly. "You heard me," Pinker said flatly. Andrew sat up straight. Her massive tits hung from her chest like meat sacks. She placed her tiny hands beneath her breasts and hoisted them to her chin. She looked up at Coach and blinked those brown eyes mere inches above her giant bumpy areolas. "Gazongas," she stated. "Oh, shit..." Pinker gasped. He suddenly reached out and grasped Andrew by her nipples. She moaned with pleasure as her former coach began giving her violent titty-twisters. Pinker shook the teen's overgrown glands and twirled them in large circular motions. Andrew loved every second. The strong hands that had taught her how to swing a baseball bat were now playing with her chest. It was a dream come true. Abruptly, Coach shoved his dick between the redhead's jugs. He held the sides of her bosoms and squished them together. Andrew sat on the bed submissively while Coach humped her breasts. Pinker gazed down at the stunning redhead. Her beautiful face was a mask of sexual passion. He could not believe how much her face now resembled his sister's. They were like twins. "You look so much like Sadie," Pinker moaned. Andrew went nuts. Years of pent-up emotions exploded within the newly transformed female. She seized her boobs from Pinker and took over using them to vigorously jerk-off his dick. Her fervor was beyond belief. The girl was expending so much energy that her mouth dropped open and gulped for air. Pinker's eyes rolled back in ecstasy. His head lolled backwards. Andrew sure knew how to handle his equipment. His dick had never been treated to such heated attention. And he knew how to repay the favor. Lovingly, Coach took her face in his hands. "Just like Sadie..." Andrew dropped her big-nippled bosoms and gripped Coach's dick at the base. Pinker was shocked but overjoyed when she thrust his manhood between her eager lips. He thought he might pass out as the teen's head bobbed up and down on his dick. Coach's penis tasted so good. Andrew loved the flavor of his male genital as it slathered around in her mouth. She could feel the head poking at her uvula as Coach shoved his dick deeper into her. The smell was wonderful. The aroma coming from his pubic hair was intoxicating. The redhead began to tug on Coach's meaty nutsack with her right hand. Her head was wrenching his dick from side to side like a German Shepherd playing with a bone. "Oh... Oh... Ooooohhhhh!" Pinker howled. His face fucking became frenzied. "Now you know what your sister feels like with a dick in her mouth!" Andrew felt Coach's hand squeezing her face harshly. Her eyes grew wide as she felt ropes of gooey cum shooting down her esophagus. "Oh, Slugger... Slugger... Slugger!" Gary Pinker's hips bucked wildly as he emptied his balls into Andrew Watkins delicate throat. Coach's dick was in so deep that Andrew could not help but swallow the large amount of semen he ejaculated. As his penis softened in her mouth, gulping sounds emanated from the teen's neck. Gary pulled his spent organ from between the girl's lips. She sat looking up at him with globs of cum and saliva around her mouth. "Let me wipe that off for you," Pinker said. He took his dick and began swabbing the fluid from her face. "Did I do good, Coach?" Andrew asked cheerfully as Pinker wiped the cum off of her. "Slugger! You did outstanding!" Coach laughed. "Do you have to ask?" "Not really," the redhead giggled. She beamed up at him with a self- satisfied smile. "Do you like that," Coach whispered as he traced Andrew's features with his limp organ. Even soft, Pinker's manhood was way over twice the size the redhead's penis had been fully erect. "Mmm-hmm," Andrew purred. Gary laid his big dick over Andrew's forehead. His beefy testicles smooshed into the girl's face. "Have you got something on your mind, Slugger?" the older man teased. "Mmm-hmm." "What have you got on your mind?" "Your big dick and balls," Andrew cooed. She opened her mouth and began sucking on Coach's nuts. He clutched his sack in response and began using his scrotum like a toothbrush over the redhead's mouth. Andrew grabbed Pinker's muscular legs. She could feel the strength in his sinews. She rubbed her mammoth mammaries against his thighs. The plumped up redhead adored her lover's hairy legs. She also adored his hairy balls in her mouth. In no time, Pinker's dick had grown stiff again. He was ready to get some more of that fresh, young pussy. He lay Andrew back on the bed and spread her fleshy thighs far apart. The redhead's fiery pussy looked like a big dick target. Pinker mounted the girl and guided the head of his dick into her wet opening. Andrew arched her back as Coach pushed inside of her. She ran her hands over his lean powerfully built back and arms. She stared beseechingly into his dark eyes, then reached up and laid a hand against his unshaven cheek. All nine inches of Coach's dick were inserted into her new womanhood. His balls nuzzled against her asshole. Andrew's luscious feet clawed at the bed. Her large bosoms laid at her sides. She could feel them wobbling beneath her armpits. The girl pulled Pinker into her with her chunky legs. He ground his dick into her pelvis. She clamped down on him with the muscles of her vaginal canal. Coach grabbed Andrew's huge knockers and pushed them together until they looked like giant fried eggs quivering on her chest with her areolas playing the part of puffy pink yolks. He took one in his mouth and began suckling it. "Oh, Coach!" Andrew moaned. Her generous hips began to gyrate on his stiff tool. "Do you like having your big titties sucked?" Coach asked softly. "Oh, yes," the writhing girl cooed. Pinker pressed the well-developed bosoms together until their nipples met. He took both protrusions in his mouth simultaneously and dined hungrily at Andrew's chest buffet. The teen arched her back and threw her hands up onto Coach's shoulders. She shoved her boobs up at his face, offering her nourishing glands to him. Andrew loved the feel of him sucking and chewing on them. She twisted beneath him like a cat in heat. Pinker put his hands on the expansive undersides of Andrew's breasts and shoved them up to her chin. He was delighted to see that they reached quite easily. "Suck 'em, Slugger," he snarled. "Suck them tig ol'bitties for me." The redhead bent her neck and parte