bar without acknowledging anyone. He ordered a shot of whiskey with his bottle of beer, stood casually at the bar for a moment, then downed the shot, picked up the bottle with the glass inverted over the neck and strolled over to the booth.
'Me thinks winter has arrived, me lads,' he said, taking off his coat and hanging it on the hook at the corner of the next booth.
'How come you're so late?' Charles asked.
'Overtime. I have to work overtime for the next two weeks to keep ahead of the Christmas rush.'
'Great,' Charles said sarcastically.
'I never turn down overtime,' Tom said as though he was teaching them a lesson. 'It's all gravy. The extra bread comes in handy; straightens out my bar bills and puts me in good shape for the holidays.'
'Well, I've got some bad news for you,' Charles said in a sour tone, bringing Tom to attention. 'My uncle was away this weekend hunting and forgot to tell us he rented the store.'
'Sonofabitch!' Tom snarled.
'He told us he would need the store for a couple of weeks before Christmas,' Charles said in defense. 'These guys use it to sell Christmas trees.'
'When do we have to move out?' Tom shot back.
'It has to be cleaned out by Friday,' Charles answered, hastily adding, 'but my uncle gave us an empty garage in the back to put our things in until after Christmas.'
'You guys will have to handle most of the moving. I have to work every night this week.'
'That's okay,' Jay reassured him. 'We just hate giving up the place.'
'How much is your uncle getting for the store?' Tom said. 'Maybe we could duplicate it and not move out.'
'I already suggested that to my uncle, but it's not just the money… he promised these guys they could use the store. They're sort of friends of his. The guys he goes hunting with.'
'Then we'll have to curtail our activities for three weeks,' Tom concluded on a happier note, surprising the others with his good spirits when the news was so bad.
But by the following Sunday they were all in a gloomy mood, including the female members of the club. Most of the club's members gathered at the bar in the afternoon in hopes of having a meeting to discuss the problem, but even that failed, because the back room was being used for a private party and it was too noisy and crowded in the front of the bar. It was when Margaret and Stella arrived that they realized they needed someplace to go, since Stella was asked to leave because of her age. After a brief argument with the bartender, Tom led them from the bar.
'My basement is better than standing out here in the cold,' Charles finally said, as they all huddled trying to keep warm. 'But you'll have to be quiet, so my old man doesn't catch us down there.'
The point was quickly accepted and Charles gave them a procedure to follow: he'd go open the street entrance to the basement and they would follow one or two at a time, at intervals of a few minutes apart. Then after they were all inside, Tom remarked that the damp basement wasn't much better than the street corner, which hurt Charles' feelings.
After an airing of their grievances over not having a place to conduct their orgies, they began a session of suggestions for finding a new temporary location. The results were negative. Cynthia had suggested renting a motel room for Saturday night, but Jay put a damper on that.
'Sure,' he said, 'Charles can peddle up on his bicycle, with you on the handle ban to rent the room.'
'Then how about a motel room in the city?' Cynthia shot back.
'It just won't work,' Tom said. 'Sixteen of us in a small room just wouldn't work out. The best thing we can do is cool it for a few weeks and go back to the store.'
'Why don't we rent another store for three weeks?' Margaret Leche suggested.
'I'm telling you, I gave this whole thing a lot of thought and it just won't work,' Tom said, but saw they were all in favor of Margaret's suggestion. Not a brain in the group, he thought. Then he explained his reasoning. 'Where can you find a store like the one we have? What do you tell the landlord you want to use it for? The minute the landlord sees us painting the windows black and girls sneaking in, he'll get suspicious. Then in the middle of our meeting the police will raid – smell the incense – swear we're smoking pot and tear the place apart. You all know how it is in this neighborhood – they take you up to the station house for everything… and your parents have to come up to get you out.'
Gloom settled over the gathering, a few suggestions were made after Tom's remarks and finally the meeting broke up. They left as they had entered – one or two at a time, quietly sneaking out. Stella latched onto Tom's arm and they exited together.
'I miss you,' Stella whispered as they walked down the street. 'Can't the two of us go someplace and do it?'
'Where?' Tom asked moodily. 'It's the same problem for two as it is for the group… no place to go.'
There was a burning need between both their legs as they walked in the direction of Stella's house. The frustration became overpowering, but Tom knew what to do about his – drop off Stella and get back to the bar as fast as possible. Three or four shots of whiskey with a beer chaser would take his mind off the problem, he reasoned. And it turned out his solution was the answer the other members had arrived at, because most of them were in the bar when he got there.
Margaret lingered in the basement with Charles and Kay, still discussing the problem after the others had all gone. But Charles was beginning to think more about the present than a week from now, which prompted him to begin making passes at Margaret, who quickly turned him off. Then he started on Kay.
'It's too cold down here for that stuff,' Margaret said, when Kay didn't ward off his grabbing hands.
'Let's go into the furnace room,' Charles said. 'It's warm in there, but too small for the crowd we had.'
Kay was agreeable and Margaret followed her, while Charles went to a dark corner of the basement to get a small bag he had hidden there. The warmth in the small cubicle that contained the oil burner was so welcome that the three of them felt in much better spirits. And when Margaret saw Charles remove a jar of petroleum jelly from the small paper bag she was more receptive to playing along with him.
'If you let me paddle your ass, I'll let you slick it up my ass,' she said to Charles.
'Someone might hear us if you start paddling my ass,' Charles said, looking at Kay with an expression that indicated she'd be his subject.
'Oh, all right,' Margaret conceded quickly, not wanting to lose out to Kay and settle for just watching.
'What about me?' Kay quickly defended her slipping position, not wanting him sticking it in her ass, but not wanting to just watch either.
'Want me to play with your snatch?' Margaret asked. 'I can do it while Chuck is having his fun in the back.'
'I guess so,' Kay pouted.
'Let's play it cool if someone should happen to come down,' Charles warned them. 'Just take off your drawers and put them in your purses. That way you just have to drop your skirts and nobody will know what's happening.'
'But what will we tell them we're doing down here?' Kay asked, sharing her brother's anxiety about being caught.
'We can tell them Margaret was interested in your old bike for her sister.'
'Hey, that's a good idea. I'll get it.' Kay left the room and quickly returned with her bicycle, which was then propped against a wall.
Now that everyone felt relieved, they were more enthusiastic about the task at hand. Charles watched with a happy grin on his face as Kay and Margaret removed their underwear, packing the clothes into their handbags. His cock was straining to get out of its prison, but he took would have to restrain himself and not get undressed. However, the thrill of the daring adventure compensated for some of the inconveniences and made it worthwhile; even more exciting than when they were in robes, with instant nudity. His eyes had watched carefully while the girls slipped out of their clothing, but didn't even get a glimpse of anything worthwhile – tantalizing him even more.
When they were all set, Margaret positioned Kay on the edge of an old wooden chair, looked over her shoulder as a signal to Charles and lifted Kay's skirt, exposing her little bush of hair. Since Charles was just watching at this point, Margaret took the time to comb her fingers through the dampening hairs, spread Kay's
