whites Becoming Black Owned Pig Properties
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Bob White's CoveyChapter 18: Free At Last free porn video
Two youngsters sat cuddled in the double swing on the Quayle’s front porch. They were looking at the newly poured concrete that replaced the former black, cracked section. Eva Mae’s head was tucked into Tom’s neck. “Tommie, I think I’m ready. We’re neither of us as timid as we were just months ago, and we’re both over sixteen, so there wouldn’t be legal complications.”
She sighed, “You’re my very dear friend and my protector - my very first - the one who stepped forward when I felt alone and helpless. You asked so nice before, and I’d be honored if y’all were my very first and also if you stayed my best friend with benefits. But there is a ‘but’. You are my friend and not my love. If you can accept that, I want y’all to ask again, and we’ll go inside and fuck each other’s brains out.”
“Mouse, you are my friend, my best friend, and I’d be purely honored to relieve you of your cherry.” He kissed the top of her head and plowed on, “I have a ‘but’, too. There’s someone inside who loves you as much as you love him. When he turns sixteen, I think you should offer your cherry to him, and then if he agrees to the ‘friends with benefits’ thing, have him tell me, and we’ll see.
She hugged him to her, and whispered, “I can’t say that I love y’all like a brother - well maybe a little like Bob and Susan - but I love you like a friend and lover, and I truly hope we can screw each other senseless. So let’s keep this ‘tween us until after Bob’s birthday. Come to think on it, we’ll need to get ahead of the curve and consult with the rest of his harem...”
November 12th, Bob’s sixteenth birthday. Georgia Juvenile Court, Judge, the Honorable Eustace Holland.
Judge Holland began, “We have several matters to attend to this morning, and near as I can determine they are intertwined, the witnesses are the same, and all petitioners are represented by the same counsel. Unless it gets confusing, I plan to step through this in the order of filing. Counselor, any objections?”
“None Your Honor.”
“First, the petition for emancipation of Robert Pepper Quayle,” Judge Holland announced. “I have supporting documents from his guardian, who is also his counsel and employer. His school’s principal also recommends approval and has provided his transcripts. Among the documents are financial statements demonstrating that he can support himself and that he owns his own home.” The judge looked around the room and told them, “And finally, I have a most unusual expression of confidence. Mister Quayle’s parents, in a joint will, said if they died before then, that they wished Robert to be emancipated on his sixteenth birthday. Further, they wanted him to be the guardian of his younger siblings, one of whom died with them.”
She asked if anyone present wished to add to their written recommendations or to offer anything they felt relevant. In the back of the room, Missus Awilda Soda stood and shouted, “Missus Awilda Soda, school board, Your Honor. He’s a murderer.”
“That’s news to me, Miz Soda. Do you have proof?”
“Your Honor, he confessed at the hearing,” The irate Soda responded.
“Miz Soda, that’s not my understanding. I have a transcript right here,” the judge held up a thick file.
“But ... But ... But...”
“Miz Soda,” Judge Holland interrupted. “Both a Grand Jury and a Coroner’s Inquest say otherwise. Further, you are no longer on the school board, and if you continue to so represent yourself, I will hold you in contempt. Sit!”
“Mister Quayle, please rise and come forward,” Judge Holland told Bob. “It is my pleasure to grant your petition for emancipation. I do wish you a successful and productive life.” She banged the gavel.
“Next,” she moved on, “We have a petition to appoint newly emancipated Robert Quayle as guardian for his sister Susan Quayle. There is a similar stack of supporting documents. Very unusual; very impressive. Mister Quayle are you willing and able to undertake this very real responsibility?”
“I am Your Honor. I wish it very much.”
“Miz Quayle, do want your brother to be your guardian? Do you trust him to look out for you?”
“Your Honor, my brother has always looked after me. He loves me, protects me, and supports me. Since Mom and Dad were murdered, you could say he’s mothered and fathered me. Yes, I want him to be my guardian.”
Judge Holland looked around the courtroom. “Same question as before to those in attendance.”
From the back, a strident voice proclaimed, “They sleep in the same bed, naked, and with that hussy...”
“Quiet!” the judge was furious, “One more word, Awilda Soda, and I’ll have you jailed for contempt. I may anyway.”
“Judge,” Susan spoke. “I’d like to address that. First, since I was raped and my parents murdered, I’ve had horrible nightmares. Having Bob and Melba sleep with me helps stave off the nightmares, and when I do have them, waking with either one near calms me. She knows we sleep in the same bed, because I’m not ashamed of it and have no reason to keep it secret.”
She stared at Awilda Soda and told her, “Neither Bob nor Melba has touched me sexually. As far as I know, Bob is still a virgin, and if I hadn’t been raped, I would be, too. I know for a fact that Brian wasn’t. I saw the blood on more than one conquest, victim really...”
“Melba was our babysitter for longer than I can remember. She used to put us to bed in my parents’ room and lie between us to read us to sleep. My parents would come home and find us all asleep that way. I know that more than once they put a blanket over Melba, because they told us. Usually, they just let us sleep until we woke for breakfast in the morning. When Melba kept us over weekends, we just naturally slept together. My folks knew and were fine with it. THERE WAS NO HANKY-PANKY - EVER!”
Susan glared at her accuser, “Now here you are. You who raised your son to be an arsonist and a pussy hound - sorry Judge, cherry picker okay? Y’all, all righteous and pseudo-perfect mother ... trying at every opportunity to ruin the reputations and lives of innocent children. Shame! No wonder they threw y’all’s wicked ass off the school board!”
She looked at Judge Holland who was trying mightily not to snicker. “Sorry again, Your Honor. Guess I got carried away.”
“I guess you did, young lady,” the judge told her. “When you finish your law degree, see me about a clerkship.”
“Y’all should be talking to Melba, Your Honor, I’m going to be a teacher.”
The gavel banged to quiet the attendees, then banged again. “Request of guardianship by Robert Pepper Quayle for his sister, Susan Quayle, is hereby granted.”
“Miss Eva Mae Masters, please come forward,” Judge Holland summoned. She looked around the courtroom while Eva Mae walked forward and observed, “This case is serious, and as with all petitions, deserves respectful attention. I will not have a circus in my courtroom.”
She looked pointedly to the back. “Did you get that Missus Awilda Soda? One word from y’all without my permission and your ass is grass and Bailiff Oxford will be the lawnmower!”
She looked down at Eva Mae, winked and whispered, “I wouldn’t dirty my hands, that’s what he gets paid for...”
Judge Holland picked up a third stack of manila folders, thick folders, and said, “Here’s another set of accolades and recommendations. They are even more remarkable when one learns of your family background. You’ve been pretty much raising yourself since your momma left. Am I right?
“I think that’s more correct than not, Your Honor,” Eva Mae replied. “If you free me, once I get the money Uncle Pete says is coming, I guess there’s not much I won’t be able to do. While I’m waitin’, I think I’m gonna sell the family acreage and live with the Quayles. I’ll be able to pay my way, and they’re more family than Daddy ever was.”
The judge gave Awilda Soda the evil eye and then inquired for any additional input. There being none, she rapped her gavel once, and Eva Mae was ‘free.’
In the midst of all the fall’s activity, classes were attended; everyone in the study group took the PSAT and SAT; Cassandra Anne was spoiled rotten - with no apparent harm; and in the evening after their emancipation, Eva Mae and Bob jointly surrendered their cherries.
Prior to that big event, there was a lot of discussion. Melba’s divorce hearing wasn’t scheduled for another month, and she was still sore from delivering Cassandra Anne. Priscilla was a little peeved that Eva Mae was still ahead of her in the sex business. She’d cuddled and slept nekkid with the trio, actually the quartet. That made the bed a little crowded, but Eva Mae always crawled on top of Bob to sleep anyway. Other than some spirited, simultaneous masturbation, there hadn’t been much activity.
“I want y’all with us,” Eva Mae told her three more-than-friends. “Then I want to be with y’all when it comes to your turns.”
“I think I might be a little green about it all until after I’ve had my turn,” Priscilla told them. “Don’t think ill of me, but it’s the truth. Why don’t I invite Tom over to cuddle while we keep watch over Cassandra Anne? Y’all won’t havta worry about her in the middle of the night, and we can take care of each other’s greens.”
She turned to Melba and commanded, “You just put them big ole jugs to work and make sure I have plenty of milk in the fridge for middle of the night feeding. Otherwise, I’ll just waltz in and attach Cassandra Anne like a leech.” She giggled, “talk about an early sex education that would be. Introduction to Pumpin’ and Suckin’ 101.”
All three women worked to ‘prepare’ Eva Mae. Long bath, massage, candles, light supper, chocolates - they pampered their heroine, and from each of their viewpoints, their future spouse. There had been hints all along, and they were growing. Now was coming the first step to seal the deal.
Bob and Tom wisely retreated to the porch where they sat in silent companionship. In addition to his own phone, four others were lined up. When one rang, a typical answer would be, “Nah, we’re all tired, so the celebration will be a cookout tomorrow after school. Yeah, it went well, we all got what we wanted. No, you’ll need to call her tomorrow; she’s in the shower then going to bed. Okay, I’ll tell her. Bye. At nine o’clock, he put all five phones on silent and let voicemail take over.
Shortly thereafter, Priscilla appeared with marching orders. “Bob, go get showered and pretty. I’m gonna put Cassandra Anne on tit for her evening meal, then come back here and keep Tom company. When she’s done with her momma, I’ll get her changed and down. I’m gonna shut you in that room, with your harem. Then I’m gonna have Tom wash my back - probably some other bits and pieces, too. Remember, Eva Mae’s tiny - tough but tiny. Go real slow. She loves you. So do I.” She lightly kissed his cheek. “Now git!”
He went. In the guest shower he found everything he needed and more. Shower, shave, brush, floss, blow dryer, comb, sexy boxers. Okay, he was ready. Maybe. He heard Priscilla put Cassandra to bed, then she knocked on the bathroom door, “Y’all ready lover boy?” and looked in, “Oh be still my heart!” She took his hand, led him down the hall, kissed his cheek, and opened the door.
His, no their, room was lit by scented candles. He wasn’t fond of them, but clearly his women were. Between Susan and Melba, Eva Mae sat back against the pillowed headboard. How had he or anyone ever considered her plain? She was radiantly beautiful; clearly her abused and fearful life had overshadowed her countenance. Now she was free, and free to love. She was his woman! His first. She was glorious.
Susan and Melba watched their man stand in awe and resisted the temptation to urge him forward. Finally, Bob took a step, then another. He walked to the side of the bed where Susan was also propped. He leaned and whispered, “I love you, and our day will come.” Then he walked around the bed and whispered the same to Melba.
Having assured his other women of his love, he returned to the foot of the bed and started to crawl towards Eva Mae. She spread her legs and her arms in welcome.
Bob was warm. Two hard points pressed against his back. That was unusual, because he typically slept on his back with a young woman on his stomach or between his legs. The owner of the two points was spooned, and he was too. He was dreaming of flaming red hair, milky-white, freckled skin, and a unique perfume that he had recently come to appreciate. His cock was surrounded by wet, and someone was placing his hands to cup two luscious breasts.
He woke, and though he couldn’t see it, he knew red curls surrounded the head leaning back against him. “Priscilla! Are you sure?” he whispered.
“I should purely hope to say,” he heard after a giggle. “It’s far too late if I wasn’t. I wasn’t asleep when I inserted y’all’s pole in my hole. ‘Sides, Tom got my motor started, and it was about to run away with me. Tell me you love me and get started making me happy!”
Black Friday. Shop. Shop. Shop. A baby to buy for. All of the students in their study group brought toys and clothes. For the young women, it was almost like playing Barbie again - with a living doll. And make no mistake; Cassandra Anne was a living doll. On the Quayles’ refrigerator door lived a sign up list - a wait list - for opportunities to sit with their doll.
December. Following a happy Thanksgiving with family and their study group, psychic energy was high and climbing. SAT scores had been posted on line with Bob scoring 1493, Eva Mae topped him with 1538, and Susan roared home with a 1423 - as a sophomore. Adding more math courses under her belt would clearly raise her score on future tests. Priscilla? 1384. Waiting for the PSAT scores was a pain, but National Merit Scholarships rode on those results.
Before Christmas, Melba’s divorce was final. She followed the judge’s ‘thoughts’ and asked Uncle Pete to offer to forgo alimony and child support in return for Odell eschewing any parental rights. Uncle Pete dangled the bait, and it was grabbed and run with almost before the hook was set. After the hearing, Melba told Bob and Susan, “I’m signing my new will in a few minutes. You two are now designated to be Cassandra Anne’s guardians if anything happens to me. Priscilla and Eva Mae are contingencies ... Uncle Pete is my executor.”
“I can’t wait for tonight,” Melba told them. “I can make love later. Tonight, I want to be fucked senseless. Who’s taking titty duty for the night?”
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