Date: Thu, 11 Feb 2010 06:19:58 -0800 (PST)
From: Jessica Skankseasy <jessicaskankseasy@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dairy Queen Part 1

The following is a work of Adult Fiction.
If you are Under 18, or are offended by fiction
involving transgender, bisexual, scat, or minors,
or are an Idiot, a Bigot, or a Zealot do not read.
Haters iggied.



				Dairy Queen

   There are pro's and con's to living in Mississippi in the summer. On the
downside, it is hot, humid, and sticky.

On the upside, it is hot, humid, and sticky. As a transplanted Northerner (
a Yankee) I am not at all suited to heat and humidity, however, as a
pervert, I find that heat and humidity give rise to halter tops, shorts,
and sweaty girls.


   How I came to be a Yankee pervert living in the Deep South with a house
full of women is a long story, so pour yourself a drink and settle in. I
guess I should make it clear in the beginning that although I am the man of
the house, I am not considered much of a man in the house. Oh, I'm
intelligent, well educated, and condidered quite kind and personable by
most who know me, or so it was anyway.

   Like too many others, I had lost my job, a victim of the new
economy. Mellissa, the girls and I had moved in with her mother. My
inability to find a job and a few indiscretions later I found myself living
in a strange land, in someone else's house, and at the bottom of the totem
pole. The discretions will have to wait, I was going to tell you about the
Dairy Queen night, and you will begin to understand.

   I had finished the supper dishes and joined Mellissa on the porch. "I
brought you another glass of tea, Mel."

   "Thank you baby. You got any smokes left, I'm out."

   I fished a pack from my pocket, sat next to her, and was rewarded with a
smile and a kiss. Mel and I came from different worlds. She never had much
education, never expected to need one. She got pregnant with Hannah when
she was 14 and pretty much gave up on ever leaving her 'trailer trash'
life. I had known her for years before we hooked up, I thought she was
sweet and pretty, but never considered actually dating her. She on the
other hand was completely swept off her feet by the fact that I treated her
as an attractive, intelligent person who was the victim of things beyond
her control. I talked to her in a way that no other man, not even her
family talked to her. I always felt that she just needed a little
confidence, and perhaps a little kindness to change her life. By the time
she had decided that she was going to land me as her man she was twice
divorced, had three girls, and was living with her mother again.

   When we did finally hook up it was absolutely incredible. I've been with
a lot of girls and a lot of freaks but never ever had I spent a night like
the one we had spent in that Tupelo motel. She had the right moves, we were
a good fit, and she tried really, really hard. We were really in love, but
due to recent occurences the balance of power had shifted and now I was the
one who was trying really, really hard. You might even say I would have
done anything for her...or the girls...or her mother...or any other women
she knew.

   I leaned back on the steps and looked at her, as beautiful as the day I
met her, as beautiful as the night we first made love, as beautiful as the
night she took me to the point of no return. In spite of all that had
happened I was a happy man. I had a beautiful wife with beautiful daughters
and Mellissa and I were both happy with my new role in life. She took a
drag of my cigarette, her face glistened in the glow. Just for the record,
southern belles don't glisten, they sweat. And that is a good thing. A very
good thing.

   "Momma, look at me, momma, momma." Britney and Hannah were doing
cartwheels in the grass. Cartwheels are very important in the rural
south. If you can do cartwheels, have good cheering skills, and big tits
you can grow up to do something great like being a Dallas Cowboy
Cheerleader, or sleeping with a high school quarterback. Britney was a
petite as they come. She would never be a professional cheerleader, but
just like her mother, she tried really, really hard.

   "That's good, baby. Real good. Hannah don't sprain your wrist again, be
careful."

   Hannah, on the other hand, was not petite at all. Still in junior high,
she had outgrown her mother in every department. Hannah had curves. When
Hannah walked down the street men's cocks twitched. I watched as she back
flipped two, three, four times. Then Brit would take a turn, then Hannah
again. She would bound across the yard like a gymnast and land breathless
and red faced, then pull her shorts and panties out of her ass and pull her
bra back down like only teens can do. Brit would follow behind, landing on
her butt more often than not, giggling and sweating.

   They walked over to the porch, "Momma, I am sweatin'."

   "Yes baby, you are sweatin'." Brit took the ice tea glass in both her
little hands and gulped, finishing with a pronounced, "ahhhhhhhh!  Hannah
took a smoke from the pack and lit up. As she reached over me on the step
her crop top flared open enough to show her bra drenched in sweat. Rivulets
formed under her arms and ran down her pits before disappearing into the
side of her bra. Yes, I felt a twinge.

   "Momma, can we go to D.Q?" asked Hannah.

   "Yea, yea, yea, I want ice cream," chimed the little one.

   "Sorry babies, momma got no money."

   "Momma!!!" A plaintive chorus.

   "We do need to go get some smokes." confided Mel.

   "Sorry, I put the last I had in the gas tank today."

   "I'm not goin' through the night without smokes." She smiled. Then she
grinned. "Maybe if you guys asked Tracy nicely."

   "Traaaaaaaaaccccccccceeeeeeeeeyyyyyy!" In stereo.

   They plopped on top of me, one on each leg. "Please, pretty please, with
sugar on top." Hannah raised her elbows and flipped her sweaty hair back.
She leaned in wrapping an arm around my neck making sure I could feel her
sopping pits. She batted her lashes and pouted her sultry little lips and
stuck her tongue in my ear. "Please."

   Brit, had already rolled off of my lap and was busy untying her
sneakers. My feet are sweating. She rubbed her fingers between her toes and
held a finger up toward my face, "Toe jam." She giggled.

   Mellissa jumped on the seduction train, "You know, a little whipped
cream wouldn't be bad?'

   "Unh, unh. I know what you guys are thinking and its not gonna happen."

   "But, Baaaaabbbbbbyyy!"

   "No!" I knew I had already lost.

   "Britney. Take your shorts off."

   "Panties too, momma?"

   "Yes, panties too."

   Britney peeled out of her wet little shorts, wiggling and scrunching to
get them down her legs. Giggling she turned and wiggled her booty. She took
off her panties and held them out for me.

   "Go on," said Mellissa, "strip, and put them on! Hannah go inside and
get me one of your old training bras."

   I stood and stripped, Britney giggled. Mellissa copped a quick feel of
my balls and mockingly licked her lips. I gotta tell you, getting into a
pair of tiny wet 'Hannah Montana" panties is a challenge. I wiggled and
danced and pulled them up, but they kept rolling up because they were
wet. The shorts were a little easier, not much, but a little.

  "Momma, I can't find them bra's."

  "Look under our bed, baby."

  "K!"

   Now I don't have a big package but when you are crammed into a pair of
shorts made for a child everything is front and center. Mellissa surveyed,
then pulled them up as high as they would go. Hannah returned with a white
cotton training bra that wasn't quite white anymore.

  "Put this on. Britney, go in and get momma's purse and tell gramma we're
going to the store." She kicked off her flips and slid them to me, "Here
put these on."

   I slid my toes into the flips, "I swear the things I do for you girls."

   "Well, its your own faul..."

   "I know, I know, holding up my palms in mock defense."

   "Besides," she said, "you love it."

   "I love you!" I said.

   Brit-Brit bounced out the door, handed the purse to her mother and
headed for the car. "Whoah. Where do you think you're going dressed like
that? The kid looked at her, then down at herself and said, "o.K.", pulled
her top off and got in the car butt naked. Hannah and Mellissa looked at
each other and busted out laughing.

   "Come on, lets go. Hannah, grab Tracy's t-shirt for your sister." She
pulled the keys out of her purse and handed it to Hannah, "I think there' a
tube of lipstick in there."

   "Ooh, Momma, can I do his toenails." Hannah pulled out a bottle of pink
glitter polish.

   "O.k. you two get in the back. Come on Brit, up front with momma."

So off we went. Hannah and I sat facing each other in the back seat so that
she could paint my toenails. Mellissa was on the phone with someone talking
about nothing, and Brit was playing with the radio like it was just another
day. Hannah finished a second coat just as we arrived. Mellissa pulled up
to the curb and put the car in park. Undoing her seat belt and twisting
around she said, "O.K. Let me take a look. Very nice"

  "Momma which lipstick?"

  "The dark red."

   "Momma, can I do it?"

   Mellissa laughed, "I don't know honey." When Brit-Brit played with make
up it got all over her face and all over everything near her. Mel looked at
me, looked at the parking lot and the street in front of us. "I got an
idea. Hannah, change places with your sister." The girls changed places,
Mellissa rolled the tube of lipstick all the way up and handed it to
Britney. "O.K.,Honey you can put it on him, but wait til I tell you."

   Mellissa fastened her seat belt and pulled away from the curb. A couple
of minutes later we're on the road leading out of town and Mel is able to
pick up a little speed. The girls and I are just silent, wondering what the
hell Mom is doing. The road the road has turned dark, hilly and curvy.
"Just what I was looking for." and she pulled into the drive of some beat
up trailer home. We sit there for just a second, wondering "What the Hell."
Mellissa backs out of the drive and points the car back toward town. By the
time we hit the hills and curves we're up to full speed.

  "O.K., Baby, now." All of a sudden we understood. When momma plays, she
plays good. Britney climbed up in my lap and as the car bounced through the
darkness applied a dark red lipstick to my face using the braille method.

Once again we were there. Mellissa looked in the mirror and smiled. "You
know what you gotta do."

Hannah turned on the dome light. "You look like a faggot!"

  "I'd kiss you, but..." and she laughed. "O.k., baby, get out.


I stepped onto the sidewalk. The car pulled away. The streetlight seemed
brighter than normal tonight. I leaned against a post and closed my
eyes. No wallet, no phone, no money. I could feel the lipstick smeared on
my lips. But I wasn't in drag, I look good in drag. I'm comfortable in
drag. No, I'm just a guy in pink flip-flops with painted toenails wearing
6x shorts with red Hannah Montana panties peeking out the back, and a white
stained training bra. All soaked in girl sweat. I had one hour. And I
needed twenty-five bucks. I looked up at the sign, 'Adult Bookstore Movies
and Adult Novelties. Must be 21 to enter'. The door opened and a paunchy
balding old man came out just as a truck pulled into the parking lot. "You
know," I thought, "Some ice cream wouldn't be bad.


Jessica Easy