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“But while’s yer doin’ that,” Helton continued to advise, “ya get a bit’a suction goin’ on in yer mouth—oh, and make shore to keep some spit flowin’ too now. And ya also need ta speed up a bit at a time…”

My GOD! Veronica thought. But on she went, trying to turn the instructions into action.

“Dang, boys! I say she’s done got it down pat!” Helton celebrated, and after a few more strokes he pulled out, the gorged penis beating before her face.

“Don’t you want to—”

“Get a off a cock-hock?” he said. “Naw, girlie. I done tolt ya we ain’t gonna come. That’d defeat the purpose.”

This is CRAZY! she screamed to herself. “I don’t understand!”

“We just need ya ta get us riled,” Micky-Mack said.

“We needs to be hornier than skunks in heat,” Dumar amended.

“’Cos, see,” Helton said, “it’s gotta be that our dicks are all cranked up fer later.”

Veronica peered at him with no comprehension whatever. “For…later? What happens…later?”

Helton stepped back to make room for Dumar. “Nothin’ fer you ta worry about, so’s don’t’cha pay it no mind. Dumar, git yer log in there’n try ‘er out.”

Dumar waited for her to pull her upper lip back and stick her tongue out, then—

“Eeeeee-yeah,” he grunted. “Dang shore better’n before.” He paused tentatively. “And, say, hon? Is it alls right if’n I pulled yer top back up and feel on yer titties whilse yer doin’ it?”

“Yeah, how’s ’bout it!” Micky-Mack exclaimed. “You got dandy titties!”

She pulled her mouth off long enough to frown at the revolting smell and say, “Oh, I guess—”

Dumar re-inserted himself but stooped over, peeled up her top, and began to fondle her breasts.

“Eeeee-HAH!” Helton railed. “Are they some milk wagons or what!”

Dumar began to sweat. Like the true redneck gentleman, he pressed her ears, pumping. “And—lemme see,” and then quite abruptly he slipped the entirety of his erection all at once into her mouth, half of which went well into her throat. “Dang if she cain’t deep-throat too, Paw!”

“Consider yerself blessed, Veronnerka,” Helton said in a tone nearly fatherly, “‘cos a gal with none’a what they call the gag-reflex is a blessin’ indeed.”

Micky-Mack was staring at the job, amazed. “Unc! Just watchin’s got me so sure- fire horny, why, my dick’s leakin’ pre-cum like a blammed spigot!”

“There ya go braggin’ again!” Helton roared. “Don’t take yer youth fer granted, boy!”

By now, Veronica’s oral resolve filled the compartment with the sounds of voracious fellatio.

“Shee-it, hon,” Dumar railed. “That’s dang near perfect technique.” He pumped a few more times, winced through some self-control, then pulled out. “Yeah. Theeeeeeeere’s the ticket. My dick is fit ta spit now, ready ta tussle shore as shit.” He flexed it a few times, as if to demonstrate something to her.

“My turn,” Micky-Mack trundled forward and got right to it. The larger erection shocked her when it slid inches deep into her throat, but there was never once the impulse to gag. Her mouth, in fact, began to engage in an intricate synchronicity with her head, and as uncomfortable as it was to simultaneously cup her tongue and keep her lip pulled back over her upper teeth, Veronica found very quickly that…

Wow. This is pretty easy.

“Good Gawd, girl!” Micky-Mack raved. “Alls a sudden, yer suckin’ dick like a champ!”

“The backwoods technique is it,” Helton said. “Make shore ya don’t ferget it, hon. It’ll serve ya well.”

Veronica just kept sucking.

“Ho, ho,” Micky-Mack murmured. He started getting twitchy. “Dang, dang! I mean, this is dead-solid the best blowjob I ever got.” He began to twitch some more. “Shit, ya know, Unc Helton? I’se just cain’t help it. The dick-suckin’s just too good. I’se gonna have ta git me my nut—

WHACK!

Micky-Mack toppled backwards with a wail; his penis popped out of Veronica’s mouth. What happened? she wondered but then she looked and saw the younger man cringing on the floor and holding his head.

“Gawd DANG, Unc Helton! What’cha clout me in the head fer?”

Helton’s indignation smoldered in his eyes. He pointed his ever-present finger. “Don’t’cha be a selfish little punk, Micky-Mack! We ain’t doin’ this fer our own pleasure! This is family business!”

The boy sat up, groggy. “That hurt like holy hail, Unc…”

“Then let it be a lesson to ya. Our friend Veronnerka’s helping us get our willies riled out’a the goodness’a her heart, boy! This ain’t a ruckin’ party—you’re savin’ up that cum fer a important reason! You understand?”

Micky-Mack shakily nodded. When he got up, he wobbled at first. “Yeah, I understand, “ he droned.

Dumar laughed. “These young kids. Gots no force’a will.”

“No they shore don’t,” Helton said, stuffing his erection back into his jeans, and then the other men followed suit. Helton smiled down at Veronica. “Thanks kindly fer torquin’ us up, hon. We’se gonna have to leave ya fer a short spell, but we’ll be back.”

This is so strange… Why would men only want partial blowjobs? Veronica wondered as she wiped the appalling dick-B.O. off her lips. The men were all putting on their jackets.

Before they left, Helton paused at the big truck’s back door. “Oh, and feel free ta help yerself to some spaghetti. It’s made by that famous chef—Boy-Ar Dee!” and then he left and closed the door behind him.

Veronica just sat there, staring at the door. I have a feeling this is going to be a long night…

— | — | —

Chapter 7

(I)

Portafoy awoke just as the clock struck twelve. The indentured 60ish African-American butler opened his eyes in the dark, then heard—

clink

And then:

A loud and rather rowdy fart.

Oh my, Portafoy thought, eyes going wide as silver dollars. He’d worked here well over twenty years—in fact it had been Thibald Caudill himself who’d hired him. The old man had said to Portafoy’s