Date: Sat, 28 Apr 2012 17:26:12 -0700 (PDT) From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com> Subject: AGE OF WANTONNESS 4 This is a sexually oriented fantasy set in the future. The author does not condone the activities depicted. He only describes what might occur, given the premises upon which the story is based. Skittish readers should use caution. Minors should move on. Sexual activity is explicitly detailed. Please take time to comment. macoutmann@yahoo.com AGE OF WANTONNESS by Macout Mann Chapter 4 It's five o'clock and the bar is packed, mostly with working men, almost all shirtless, drinking their favorite brews. Maury Bennett and Mike Crane join some of their mates and listen to Bob Riley, who's in his fifties, talk about what it was like to build houses, when they were made of wood. Lumber's so expensive now only the super-rich can afford it. Most buildings are made of concrete block. New technology allows a coloring compound to be added, when the block is fabricated, so homes have a variety of traditional colors; and the more expensive blocks are incised to look like bricks. The super-wealthy can afford real brick. Door facings and moldings are now made of a compound combining glass and waste vegetable matter like pulverized corn cobs or wheat stalks. Called "glasswood," it can be drilled without shattering and is strong enough not to break with normal use. Paper is too expensive for what used to be called "dry wall," so interior walls are plaster, like they were a century and a half ago. Roofing can no longer be made of asphalt or shakes, it's all slate or tile. Mike is fascinated by Bob's story. Nails and hammers are mostly things of the past. He's a general apprentice. If he works out, he hopes to become an apprentice plasterer. Of course, appentices are expected to service the journeymen, whenever they're asked. Some of Mike's peers don't take to that, but Mike doesn't mind. He's been sucking dick ever since his dad gave him the big sex lecture, and besides Maury's a good guy. He reciprocates as often as not. Maury's a bear of a man, tough and hard. Mike was a swim star in school and is a ruggedly handsome blond with a neat T shape. The group drinks and chats, enjoying the easy comradeship that has marked male get-togethers forever, inevitably swapping stories of their various sexual conquests with both sexes. There is a bit of excitement in the room, when the mayor enters. It's not unusual for the mayor to visit bars like this one, however. His biggest support comes from the working classes. He moves casually through the crowd, recognizing acquaintances, boisterously exchanging greetings with everyone, and having his groin grabbed by well-wishers over and over again. That's the friendly thing to do these days. He spots Maury and comes over to shake his hand. Maury introduces the mayor to Mike, and the mayor responds, "Are you Steve Crane's kid?" "Yeah. I sure am," Mike brightens. "Tell him `hello,'" Butch responds. "We used to mess around, when we were in school. We were two motherfucking whores. "Your dick as big as your poppa's, kid?" "No sir, but I'm happy with what I've got." "Yeah," Maury echoes, "he aint got nothing to be ashamed of." The men at the table all guffaw, and Maury gives Mike a friendly feel. Suddenly, from the street the blare of a loud speaker intrudes. "The wages of sin is death!" a voice shouts. "You are all evil, and you will pay for your perverted ways!" "Fucking Pilgrims," the mayor cries. "Probably knew I was here. Must have spies around." "I'm callin' the cops," the bartender yells. "Do!" the mayor commands. "We can get `em for blocking goddam traffic anyway. Pretty soon we're goanna have all their asses in a sling!" The speaker continues to preach, and a number of patrons spill out of the bar and start yelling back. "I'd rather be a pervert than a Pilgrim," someone shouts, and the crowd takes up the chant. Some of the men pull out their dicks and start waving them at the protesters. "Yall come over and satisfy this," they tease. "You can't intimidate us by defiling your bodies," the speaker blares. The police finally arrive and begin to arrest the demonstrators. Some flee to the bus that brought them. Others are taken to jail. Calm returns to the street, and inside the bar the mayor buys a round for the house. He sits with Maury, Mike, and their companions. Asks about Mike's dad. After another beer, he says, "Damn, boy, for old time sake I gotta have some Crane dick. Let me see what you got." "You mean that?" Mike asks. "That's wanton." He opens his jeans and reveals a beauty. "Chip off the fuckin' block," Butch exclaims, as he kneels before Mike's hardening worm and takes it in his mouth. "Ummmmm." Mike is ecstatic. He can only imagine how great his dad felt when he experienced the same expert ministrations years before. The other guys at the table are fascinated, but the place is so crowded that few others take notice. Besides the mayor isn't the only one in the room sucking dick. "Oh, yes!" Mike moans, as the mayor nibbles his head and then soothes it with his tongue. He instinctively keeps Mike on edge, until finally Mike cries, "Oh god, let me cum, man!" Butch slides his lips to the base of young Crane's dick, and clamps them to the rigid pole. Mike spews a geyser's worth of cum into the mayor's hungry mouth. He drinks it all. "Thanks, boy," he gasps. "If your old man can still cum like that, tell him to come see me at city hall sometime." "Oh, he can all right," Mike laughs. When he leaves the bar to head home, Mike has drunk more than he had intended, but not so much that he's not in control. It's close enough to walk. He turns off the main street and into shadows and almost collides with a Pilgrim girl, about his age, cowering in the darkness. "What the hell?" he cries. "Please don't hurt me," she almost sobs. "Why the fuck would I hurt you?" he asks. "They say...they say you'd do...do that to me," she stammers. "No," Mike says, "I wouldn't fuck you, unless you wanted me to. I'm not goanna hurt you. Calm down. "What the hell are you doing out here, anyway? I thought all you Pilgrims either were sent to jail or escaped back to Ole Town." "I needed to go somewhere," she says. "Do you know where a place called `Anything Goes' is?" "Yeah, it's a night club across town. Aint the sort of place I'd expect you'd wanna go." "I got a letter. I saw it was from my brother. I wasn't supposed to open it. But I did. He said he was going to work at Anything Goes, and he wanted to see me. I haven't seen him in so long." Tears ran down her cheeks. "So is he a waiter or something?" "He's a dancer." "I thought you Pilgrims were against dancing. No matter. You wouldn't recognize what he's doin' at Anything Goes as dancing anyway." "Can you tell me how to get there?" Mike doesn't know why he gives a shit about this bitch. But he knows she'd never get across town in one piece. "I'll take you," he says. He doesn't want to be seen with her on the trans, so they walk, keeping to the side streets. It takes over an hour. "I'm Mike," he finally says. "I'm Susannah," she replies. "Susannah Daemon. Thanks for your help, Mike." "And who are we looking for?" "My brother's name is Ashby," she says. They encounter a group of rowdy partygoers. Mike tells them they're going to a costume party. She's a Pilgrim. He's a construction worker. He's still bare-chested. They think the costumes are wanton. He guides her to the Anything Goes stage door. "We're looking for a dude named Ashby Daemon," he tells the doorman. "He don't start work `til tomorrow," the doorman says. "He's part of our new headline act. There's a rehearsal call for eleven tomorrow morning. You might catch him then." "This is his sister," Mike tells him. "Can you give him a message?" "His sister, you say?" The stage doorman looks incredulous. "That'll be a fucking nut bust," he laughs. "Yeah, I'll give him a note." Mike borrows a pen and screenpad, and Susannah tells him what she wants him to write. Meanwhile, through the open stage door she's been watching the naked chorus boys skip off the stage, horrified at what her brother must be involved in. Back on the street, Mike tells her, "Well, that's done. I guess you need to get back to Ole Town." She asks about the time. "The time on the screenpad said 21:20," he answers. "Oh," she says, "I can't go back now. It's after curfew." "Well you sure as shit can't stay out on the streets. You'll have to come home with me." "Why?" "You remember when I first saw you? I said I wouldn't do anything you didn't want me to do. Well, out here in the middle of the night most guys still on the streets, seeing you in that Mother Hubbard outfit, wouldn't think twice before ramming their dick into your cunt and hoping you'd bleed. You better come with me!" Copyright 2012 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved. Please remember that your contributions to nifty.org make this free service possible. Please give, if you can.