beforethefall
Post 1, 07/13/2004
Welcome to Aardvark Heights#
Author: SmokinReggie
Date: July 13, 2004
Mood: Reflective
Listening to: The Smashing Pumpkins - Machina [2000] - I Of The Mourning.mp3I remember when the summers felt special. Three whole months off school, playing outside, swimming, camping, hiking, riding bikes and building forts and treehouses in the woods and chasing lightning bugs in those hours after the sun goes down when it's still warm. It was a good, clean childhood on the family farm. Lots of chores, but split between all of us at the big old house, it wasn't so bad. I guess a lot of other kids in town probably stayed in the air conditioning and watched TV or played video games or whatever, or the rich kids would hang out at the mall and buy stuff. That wasn't how it was out in the country just past the city limits, though. The summer breeze had a certain magic on it, one my Grandma had an old Gypsy word for that I can't remember, anymore.
Summertime had a certain sort of lazy quietude to it, despite all the activity and busywork and projects and play that we had as kids; despite it all, the summers just felt eventless. Summer simply was, and the season simply explained and accounted for all of its component events. I think that feeling was compounded even more by the fact that it was happening around this quiet, unimportant, do-nothing, nothing-happens little town on the edge of the Aardvark mountains.
Looking back, it was pretty idyllic in the sort of way that, well… You know, there's probably hundreds of other towns just like Aardvark Heights out there in the country? The sort of little town that's old and new at the same time, big enough that there's no way you could know everyone, but still small enough that everyone knows the hot local gossip. Big enough to have a little mall of our own, small enough to not have any hotels aside from that one kinda' sketchy motel on the highway that leads into town.
Back in '94, there was the old part of town with the city hall, community building and the library and the old pool and the park with the bandshell with a stage that they'd do events at sometimes. We had three school buildings on the old side of town; the old high school was turned into a middle school when the new high school went up across town a few years after the Heatwave. The elementary school moved up into the old middle school, and then the kindergarten had its own building too - it needed it, once the Heatwave kids got to schoolin' age.
That end of town was us Montgomeries' stomping grounds, but it was really run by this little gang of kids from the trailer park by the railroad tracks. Man, they were some troublemakers, I remember my older brothers Bobby and Red would tell us about all sorts of capers those kids got up to. Fuckers even stole a pumpkin from our farm one year. My uncle was so mad about it, he ranted about it for weeks to anyone that'd stand still long enough. I swear I caught ‘im out in the barn hollerin’ over it at the pigs, even. By all accounts, those kids basically ran the whole town when they were in high school and it was easier for them to get around. Good on 'em. They all but disappeared a year or so ago though, I wonder whatever happened to them?
Anyway, then there was the new part of town, with all the big houses in the subdivisions up in the hills and the new high school with all the fancy athletic fields and the new pool, and the mall, and a few fast food places and the college down the road a ways, and new stuff just keeps on poppin' up out there.
Smack-dab in between new town and old town was the Slingshot Diner, our beloved Sunday lunch joint, late-night social space, meeting spot, cool-down spot, you name it. They sold big, bottomless sodas for $0.79 and if you complimented her hair just right, Janie the big-boobed badger waitress would let you add a squirt of chocolate syrup to your Dr. Pepper for free. Don't knock it until you've tried it. God, she must've lived there, cuz' I don't think I've ever set foot in that place when she wasn't there, not even once.
We thought that Aardvark Heights' impression as that quiet nothing-happens town was bulletproof, back then. I can't believe how wrong we were.
I'm posting this article on the 10th anniversary of the Heatwave. It only took two weeks to change so many people that it irreversibly changed our home, too. Twenty- or thirty-thousand-something people suddenly preoccupied with unprotected, straight sex for two weeks. Something like four thousand of us were changed forever…plus the huge bump of kids that came out of it, and as it turns out, every last one of them was born in our own forever-changed image.
I fathered four daughters during the Heatwave, with three of my second cousins; one set of twins and two singles. (Maggie still jokes that the twins was just cuz' she was the very first girl that I ever got to tag, and because of that, I shot her full all the way to the tonsils. I ain't gonna' lie, I'm bettin' that might have had somethin' to do with it. Ha!) A tall order for four ten-year-olds to start a family out of nowhere, but we managed good enough with the family's help. Don't worry if you're here for the dirty details, I'm savin' that good stuff for when we're telling stories proper. Anyway, with a little luck, my daughters will never know how different they are, because they've never known anything but the Heatwave since birth. All we can do - as those who're lucky enough to be their parents - is just teach them how to love how they're different, and not feel that shame, and judgement, and ridicule, and prejudice we all had to grow up with before the world got bored of it and accepted that we can't help what we are.
Government agencies and journalists descended upon the town in the weeks following the Heatwave, once the resident adult minds had cleared the fog enough to realize something weird happened and word got out about the Heatwave. It was nearly overnight that Aardvark Heights turned into a mecca for the CDC and teams of reproductive biologists and sociologists. More fringe-y scientists and religious freaks and conspiracy theorists followed in the weeks afterward, and, before we knew it, our hometown was a living research site and some sort of promised land for perverts and curious tourists and scholars all at once. And then folks figured out how to capitalize on it, and stuff started getting really weird.
And that's why I wanted to start this blog; a way for us Heatwave kids to share our unfiltered, uncensored experiences in the weeks, months and years that followed. The world changed in Aardvark Heights, and in a peculiar sort of way that I don't think could've ever happened, anywhere, without the Heatwave to help it along. I want this to be a place for people with an open mind to come and maybe share in our experiences and fond memories and traumas and all that. It's an open forum.
About the Author:
My name is Reggie Montgomery. I'm a red squirrel, and I'm 20 years old. I have three incredible wives, and four beautiful daughters that amaze me in new ways every day. I grew up in a town called Aardvark Heights, Missouri, and yes, I'm a Heatwave kid. I'm creating this blog in the hopes to give a voice to the people like me that had the same sort of weird and unforgettable childhoods that I did. This blog is going to be used as a place for us to share our experiences, what we loved, what we hated…and more importantly, to give a voice and space to the people that lived through one of the biggest mysteries of the modern age.
If the Heatwave has left a permanent mark on your life, please feel free to share your story to webmaster@btf-writing.com. We accept both credited and anonymous submissions!
In 1994…#
Keeping their familial lines clear was always a challenge on the farm that had well over a hundred-and-twenty squirrels from various branches of the Montgomery lineage across five generations. Adding in their spouses, in-laws and so on, and the numbers expanded well past two-hundred on the Montgomery clan's commune farm, all living and working on their collectively-owned country estate, filling the historic inn and its numerous outbuildings and residences beyond capacity; travel-trailers and RV's supplementing the strained housing. Of course, the sort of manpower they were able to muster was a necessity on the enormous old working farm; a proud family tradition that supplied Aardvark Heights with a surprisingly wide variety of agricultural and old-fashioned prepared products.
Idyllic as it was, the crowded house did force certain challenges on the squirrels, in such close quarters. For one, bathroom times were strictly scheduled, and bedrooms had to be assigned to the Montgomery clan's children in groups of four, by gender and age groups. Of course, there were always a few cases where slack in one place or another would mean less-than-ideal groupings for some bedrooms; as was the case with one bedroom filled with ten-year-olds; Reggie Montgomery and his second-cousins, Maggie, Raven and Ellie from somewhere on the Reynolds branch of the family tree. Being the odd boy in the bedroom of girls was tough, but Reggie managed. He got himself a spare blanket and tucked into his bottom bunk, and made his own little private space under the bunk-bed so the girls could do whatever they wanted, and he still had his own space. He had three whole drawers to himself in the dresser as well as the shelves between the bunk-bed and the wall. He'd ‘sold’ his rights to closet space for a strict no-kick-out policy that secured, at least, his own immutable little space in his bunk even if the girls were talking about girl stuff or changing, which was priceless in and of itself as it prevented him from getting kicked out first thing every morning, and having to get dressed out in the hallway.
Sure, he made it work fine. But still, it was tough, sometimes. Packed four-deep in a small bedroom was only part of it, but there were times, like tonight, when it was miserable. A heatwave had settled in over the area, and the old air-conditioners in the big rustic inn were overtaxed to the point that the family's elders had decided on sleeping with the windows wide open and trying to give the aging air conditioners a break during the cooler night hours.
Reggie was stretched out in his bunk, frustrated at the stifling heat. He'd already eschewed his privacy-granting blanket to let some fresh air into his bunk, but as he laid out on top of the sheets in his underwear, sleep stubbornly refused to come, though the occasional waft of country-night breeze at least brought temporary relief in the stifling heat of the upstairs bedroom.
With those subtle little breezes came the scents of the room; red squirrels, old wood furniture, sweat, country dust and lakewater. The barn and the animals. Mowed grass and weeds. His cousins. Yeah, his cousins were definitely one of the high notes coming across on that breeze. They smelled stronger, these last couple days; a certain rich, interesting, girly sort of floral muskiness that got his attention instantly. He secretly wanted to smell it up close, but that would've been weird to ask, and even weirder if he got caught sniffing their clothes; it just smelled uniquely good and so interesting to him, and he couldn't help but heave a deep sigh in through his nose and bask in the wafts he could get as he laid there and tried to catch a few hours of sleep before the morning chores.
Sleep, however, never came. First due to the oppressive heat in between those wafts of country breeze, but soon due to an annoyingly persistent erection that pried up the front of the squirrel boy's hand-me-down briefs, making him fidget awkwardly in the dark as it stretched up under the fabric and pitched a bold tent in his underwear. He laid in the still air, tense and listening to the regular, slow breaths of his sleeping - or at least dozing - cousins, and eventually looked across the aisle between the bunk beds to be satisfied that the cousins seemed sufficiently asleep.
Hesitation drug on for minutes, as a steady trickle of precum began welling into a soaking-wet spot in his briefs, and it was becoming increasingly clear that he would have to deal with this, one way or another, were he to get any rest. Another glance toward his cousins' bed across the aisle found her still asleep, and Reggie silently thought to himself, that maybe he wouldn't need to put his privacy blanket back up, just tonight… It was so sweltering hot after all, and it'd be over in a mere few minutes. He'd gotten very good at doing this sort of thing in silence, and his cousins were notoriously deep sleepers. He could get away with it, maybe…
Timidly, Rusty's broad hand slipped its digits under the worn waistband of his tightie-whities, sifting his claws through his downy-white belly-fur as he pushed his right hand into his briefs. His claws touched first to the side of his sheath, and his fingers followed to slowly wrap around the spongy girth of his sheath, lingering for a second to just give his aching erection a lazy kneading squeeze; simple reassurance provided to his poor member that relief was on the way. Another slow glance across the aisle between the bunkbeds to confirm that his nearest cousin Maggie was still asleep found her curled on her side, hands hanging over the edge of the mattress, tail sprawled down over the end of the bunk bed, her chest rising and falling slowly as she slept in the lightest thing she could find to wear to bed, a homemade two-piece swimsuit with pastel pink fabric and white edging.
Reggie found himself twenty strokes in before he realized he was staring at his cousin's barely-dressed body in the dim moonlight, and only with great effort did he manage to peel his eyes away from his cousin, shut out the intrusive thoughts, and forced the hazy image of Cindy Clawford sipping sodas in front of a vending machine to his mind's eye. She had been his ‘old reliable’ since he saw the commercial two summers prior, and he stifled a slow sigh as he closed his eyes and got to work with the image of the vixen supermodel's sultry rise from some exotic supercar in her short jean shorts and white tank-top in his head.
The squirrel boy's breath deepened, but he forced himself to take it slow, to stay stealthy and as silent as he could, as he pumped himself under the dingy white fabric of his well-worn briefs. The subtle rustle of fabric and sticky, wet noises of precum gliding over his cock was getting too rhythmic, however, and stood out so profoundly against the silence of the room; something had to be done… Reggie debated, conflicted, but soon reasoned with himself that being a bit more quiet was a reasonable trade-off for losing what little concealment his briefs provided. He slowly shrugged his wrist forward, and used his free paw to pull his briefs' waistband down, and tuck them under his balls without ever opening his eyes. Without ever losing sight of the sweet, sultry curves of that supermodel vixen in his mind's eye, as her hands sifted through her hair and her elbows lifted, and exposed the glorious, beautifully subtle curves on her chest; the slight insinuation of a nipple in a bit of highlight and shadow on the white fabric.
It was deafening in the silence. A subtle, tiny vocalization that wasn't his. Reggie's paw froze on his throbbing erection as precum drooled into the downy-soft fur of his tummy, just below his navel. He was making so much more than usual, enough that it was pooling up and running down his side onto the sheets; a mess he'd have to deal with in the morning. The beats of his heart echoed in the slightly-twitching throbs of his member in his hand as he stilled his breath, and heard another faint vocalization - a subtle, whispered little huff of a moan that caused his tufted ear to twitch. Reggie's heart pounded, but he mustered the strength to finally open his eyes, and let his head silently roll to the right in the dark to seek out the source of those sounds.
His eyes instantly met Maggie's in the dark. Her hand was buried in the bikini bottom, and as Reggie's ears pivoted toward her, he realized his own drenching juices were only half of the slick, wet, sticky noises that were rising in the dark. The realization brought a shudder as Reggie stared into his cousin's eyes while she lifted her thigh, peeling her bikini bottoms down to the side to offer him an intimate view similar to the one he'd unknowingly been giving her for the last several minutes.
Her drenched, glistening downy fur was slicked down to her puffy, pouting female folds, two fingers hooked up between them and disappearing into the shadows. There was something about how she took great care in her movements, in a specific, slow manner that brought the realization to Reggie's mind that he wasn't the only one who had been studying the art of stealthy self-pleasure over the last few years in those cramped quarters. He responded to her movement with a slow lowering of his paw, thumbing the back of his member to urge his sheath to his base, and allow the subtle curve of his erection to stand up proudly to show her in turn, as pale-silver moonlight glinted from the strand of precum that connected his tip to the pool in his belly fur.
Another subtle wash of cool country air rolled through the room, and again that intense, feminine, flowery scent poured into Reggie's nose on the breeze. He trembled, locked into a trance-like stare-down with his second-cousin as the squirrels showed themselves to each other from only five feet away. Both were bound in place save for the subtle motions of their fingers, too embarrassed, too stunned, too overwhelmed at the moment that hung in the quiet between them there, illuminated in the ghostly moonlight, that threatened to startle and be gone with the even the smallest disruption. A lonely fourteen strips of hardwood flooring separated one bunk from the other; a distance that some primal part of them understood was far, far too close at a time like this, even between such distantly-related cousins. Another, deeper, even more primal part of them urged them toward it, as what conscious thought remained within them seemed to struggle valiantly against the breaking of inertia, freezing them in place as they stared across that chasm between the bunks in the crowded little bedroom, touching themselves while the mercifully-cool summer breeze danced lazily through the room again to spark a mystic, newfound sensitivity to life in their fur.
Neither knew how long it lasted, but the moment that had crystallized between them shattered as suddenly as it formed when Maggie's hand withdrew from between her legs, and her thighs closed. Reggie suddenly felt alone atop his bunk, only able to hide what he could fit of his erection into his fist as Maggie's form moved, and the slow creak of her bedsprings betrayed the shifting of the petite squirrel's form on the mattress. The boy was unable to peel his eyes away from her as her foot lowered to touch the hardwood floor, then began to bear weight as she stealthily rose from her bed. She moved like a mote of dust across the room, lit in moonlight against the black backdrop of midnight shadow, silent, with a meandering care that coaxed her footing into a delicate, effortless dance like the breeze that carried her scent, toes landing silently between the clothes and shoes that littered that vast distance between them as Reggie's drooling boyhood craned its head from his fist for a better view.
The gravity that compressed his mattress brought the dreamlike moment into vivid clarity for Reggie, as Maggie planted her knee beside his hip, then reached deftly to the frame of the bunk bed to support her weight as she eased herself down into the bottom bunk. She swung her thigh over Reggie's hips with that same ethereal grace, somehow able to move silently save for the muted compression of the mattress springs, and in the same motion their eyes locked again as her knees nestled into the mattress at either side of Reggie's hips. Her hand found his in the dark, and her fingers sunk between his as she lowered her muzzle, and Reggie's subtle gasp drew her forward that final inch to bring their lips together at last, and they kissed.
Shaky breaths grew deeper, stifled by their owners to hushed, trembling, tiny sounds in the night air as their lips pressed together, then parted, and tipped, and tongues touched in fleeting, inexperienced brushes. Maggie's free hand sought out Reggie's, still wrapped snugly around his boyhood, shielding it, unwittingly protecting it from the unknown, before the boy's cousin carefully lifted it away. Her hand lifted his without hesitation, and guided it to her muzzle as they kissed, urging his precum-soaked fingers into her fur, urging him to cradle her cheek, and Reggie did, without question or hesitation. Her knees shifted slightly, and then she settled closer, and brought her doughy, intensely-hot, drenched vulva down atop the belly of his erection, and pinned it to his stomach.
She smelled so good. Reggie reeled at the absolute delicacy of his second cousin's heat, in such close proximity. His aching boyhood throbbed beneath her subtle weight as she rolled her hips forward against him, and then down, catching the belly of his boyhood between her outer folds as she rocked in slow, subtle, silent motions against him. Reggie's fingers tightened on hers as she bore weight atop his hand, pinning it down beside his head on the mattress. Her free hand tucked between their bodies, and with another slow roll forward, she touched the back of his member and pressed him against her.
Warmth swallowed him in a slow, slithering slip of naked flesh into naked flesh, cushioned on the cousins' copious slickness as Maggie churned down against him and bore her weight atop his hips. Their teeth clicked together in the kiss, and the cousins shared the tiniest, whispered vocalization between them that was lost against the backdrop of the crickets and cicadas and tree frogs' calls outside the window. Reggie's arousal strained as his hips tensed, and she churned against him until his sheath was smashed back as far as it could go, and his boyhood utterly hilted within her belly.
Too soon, the kiss broke, and she rose, sitting heavily still atop his hips as his erection flexed within her, yearning for more, so hard it should be aching, Reggie thought; but the ache never came, as something about Maggie's body soothed him in a way he'd never felt before. She drew his hands to her tummy, and urged them beneath her bikini top to find pebbly-hard nipples in her lush fur, atop a wholly undeveloped chest that he welcomed out into the night air as he pushed the top upward.
Their eyes met again. Her expression, the same as Reggie imagined his own. Bewildered, overwhelmed, drunken, dreamlike need was in her eyes, her muzzle barely parted, hair dropped over her eyes. The heels of her hands rested atop his pecs as she steadied herself, straightening her back, her tail dropping over his legs finally and resting atop his own. A twitch inside her, then a subtle, fluttering squeeze as she began to find the levers of control. She rose, slowly, and Reggie immediately yearned for her warmth again as she hesitated at his tip, and his naked flesh found the night air, warm as it was, cold and lonely in comparison to his cousin's embrace. He resisted her withdrawal with an urging, needy arch of his hips, and she gave him mercy, slowly bringing her body back to meet him, to hide him in her safety, to clutch his building need within her warm, loving body as her hips pressed him down into the mattress yet again.
Reggie felt a pulse from him, unlike any other of his boyhood that came before. A rolling wash of intense, whole-body pleasure that welled in his chest and belly and flooded his whole body, then soared to his balls and up through his boyhood, blooming out around him with soaking, fluid heat that crowded the space within Maggie's body and set alight a fresh, fluttering grasp at him within her body. She gasped and squeaked another hushed, impossibly-soft vocalization as her eyes stared into his, and she rose again. He dug his heels into the bed, and drove upward cautiously, plunging himself home before she weighed down again and pushed him back to the bed. Another heavy, surging pulse roared up from his loins and burst out from between them this time, painting a streak across his pelvis and running a thick drool down the crease beside his balls as she gasped gain, and another fresh flutter of her walls wrapped him in rose-petal soft flesh.
He could feel her moving inside, her body responding to his with a tender, pouting touch to his tip as her body welcomed his issue and urged it to splash against that place, so deep inside her. Her walls flexed with renewed strength as he trembled, and as the cousins worked and experimented, they naturally found a slow, steady rhythm that timed with their bodies' own natural build-and-release of tension that dragged his pulsing flesh through her walls in an unbroken movement. Each kiss of his churning balls to her body smeared a fresh streak of rich, fertile white into their fur as Reggie's issue overflowed her again and again, pools and rivers of his fertility offered up to her temple with pouring urgency that neither had eever felt before.
The air hung heavy with the squirrel cousins' scents; a unique, perfectly-matched miasma of fertile musk, sweat, heat and seed blending as Maggie grasped the framework of the bunk above and rode her cousin, and Reggie's fingers worshipfully caressed her chest and nipples, tucking fingers into the sweat of her armpits and smearing it down her sides as she dug her claws into his sweaty chestfur. Her hips ground in an unrelenting roll on him, as he pushed his knees wide apart and plumbed her depths as deeply as he could, each shudder of the cousins' bodies together inviting a fresh bolt of overflowed seed to leap from between them and dangle slimy strands of mingled issue between their bodies as the sheets grew wet with their sweat and slick, Heatwave-fueled love.
Despite the pulsing flood of Reggie's issue and Maggie's answer, the cousins felt a building tension between them still, as climax began to creep forward from the depth of the midnight shadows. Reggie was tense, Maggie's eyes closed, and her head tipped from side to side as the steady rocking brought subtle squeaks from the mattress that stood out starkly in the quiet, slicking, wet sounds of their joined hyper-fertility. The boy's eyes rolled back in his head, and his fingers gripped at her thigh and hip as she worked them against his, and her hands landed on his chest, supporting her weight as her fingers curled in his fur.
Their silence had already been broken minutes ago, but the cousins still made effort to stifle their voices as Reggie began to tense, and Maggie answered with subtle, faint whimpers as she bore down. The cousins' tension built together, their movements more graceless, more reckless creaks of bedsprings in the quiet of the crowded bedroom as their fever began to break. Their final saving grace was the last-second plunge of desperation hoped to silence their hushed vocalizations as Maggie's muzzle again found Reggie's in a hard and eager kiss that struggled to contain their panted breaths within the seal of their lips.
The steadily-surging flow of Reggie's arousal within his cousin found new force, as his body began to flex and pulse and surge forward with climax, and Maggie's own drenching juices soaked his lap as her body clutched down around him. She shuddered violently with tense, gripping pulls of her walls that tried to pull Reggie's member yet deeper inside her, kissing its rhythmically-fountaining tip to her cervix in perfect time as Reggie came inside her, planting his seed as deeply as he could with his cousin as their tongues smeared and wrestled around their teeth, and the cousins moaned their gasped, overwhelmed whimpers into the kiss for what felt like minutes as they were held hostage by the intensity of the moment, each with their hips churning and trembling against the other's as toes curled, and claws raked through sweat-slick squirrel-fur.
Maggie's weight settled on Reggie's chest as her arms embraced his shoulders, and Reggie's face pressed into the nape of her neck with his arms around her middle. The cousins tried to slow their breaths, muffling them in each other's fur as the sharp, climactic twitches and surging, pouring throbs of Reggie's sustained-but-waning Heatwave-climax continued to pour up into Maggie and back out to run across his pelvis, dripping off the boy's hip and stomach and down the squirrel boy's sack into the formidable puddle on the bed. The sensations were overwhelming; some secret, profound discovery of an ancient custom had been made, that brought with it an intensity of emotional depth and fulfillment neither cousin had felt before as the lifelong friends and relatives basked in the trembling energy of their afterglow, bodies still hopelessly primed, a calm, trembling tension that fended off sleep. Maggie withdrew first, and as her eyes met Reggie's, he hesitated only briefly, before leaning up to kiss her again in hopes to sustain the spell that had been cast over them, but a sound stole both cousins' attention.
It was the creak and rustle of bedsprings overhead that caused their heads to snap to the side to meet the upside-down face of Raven, with her namesake long, black hair hanging down in the moonlight as she looked over the edge of her bunk to Reggie's bunk below with a heated blush. Both could immediately see it in her expression, and the realization eased the pang of adrenaline and panic in the other cousins as Raven's hushed voice mimicked the dazed, pensive expression on her face as she whispered in the steamy air in a vain attempt to keep from waking up Ellie who, by all accounts, was the only roommate still asleep in the top bunk across the aisle.
“…Be kushti n' shav off m'yog too, Reggie?” her shaking, timid voice plead in the dark in the signature, nearly-indecipherable Montgomery family dialect. Another rustle across the room snapped all three heads in a unified direction, to Ellie who'd crept to the edge of her bunk.
“Me, too, chavo?” her trembling, whispered voice came in the moonlight as a fresh breeze rolled through the window and brought their scents to Reggie's nose in the dark, and he reeled, somehow even harder than before.
“Awh, promise y'won' call me a kurvari, n' yeh,” Reggie said, still hushed despite no more risk of waking his roommates up. His pupils dilated in the dark as hormones rushed up to renew his strength with the realization that his cousins needed him, there and then, in a way only he could help with. He could feel his balls filling in real-time as he leaned over and kissed Raven as she dangled from the bunk overhead, and Maggie sat up in his lap, squirming her hips against the strength of Reggie's newfound erection. “’ll give y'both th' kapara, yeh. C'mown here too."