Exposure
29
The Letter
THE NEXT WEEK, Ronda and I packed up and headed for Tenbrook early Saturday morning. We went through Rockford to pick up Anna and were in Tenbrook well before noon. Then I dropped the two girls off at their parents’ homes for a visit and picked up Patricia and Toni to go down to visit my parents. We’d agreed on this delayed birthday celebration because of our trip to Canada on my birthday weekend.
Dad gave me a quick hug and then had Toni in his arms to love on as the little girl giggled and tugged at Dad’s new beard. I guess I was being a bad influence on my father.
Mom and Kat hugged Patricia and me, welcoming us home and wishing me happy birthday. They had a birthday dinner prepared even though we usually ate more heavily at night than at noon. Mom made my favorite beef stroganoff and we had fun telling about the place in Canada and how school was going. Patricia and Kat jumped up to clear the table and do the dishes. Kat was maturing more each time I saw her and looked like a young lady as she joked and talked with Patricia. I took Toni into the living room and sat with Mom and Dad.
“You have mail you should attend to,” Mom said, handing me a batch of envelopes, some of which had been forwarded from Tenbrook. My eye went immediately to an envelope from the Selective Service.
“What do these bastards want?” I said beneath my breath.
“Language, Nate,” Mom said. Might know she’d be able to hear me. Dad took Toni from me so I had both hands free.
I opened the letter and read through it. Then I read it again as it wrinkled in my hands, I was gripping it so hard. I stood up and left the room without saying anything. I went out the kitchen door and then I started in.
“Goddamn fucking son of a bitch! You filthy assholes! You should have your heads cut off and shoved up your asses. You goddamned fucking bastards! Fuck you all to hell. God damn it!”
I went on for a while, but I didn’t know that many curse words, so it was really repetitive. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Patricia next to me with tears running down her cheeks. I guess I was crying, too. I hadn’t noticed that until the tears spattered on the letter. Patricia gently took it from me and read the contents. Then she handed the letter through the door to Mom and collapsed against me, crying.
“We… have a home in Canada,” I gasped. “We… need to… pack.”
“Don’t be too hasty,” Dad said coming through the back door and pulling Patricia and me against him in a hug. “We can still fight it. It’s not an induction notice, it’s a reclassification. Appeal it.”
I nodded, choking back my tears. A lot of people had a lot to answer for and I intended to name them all. Mom stood up from where she’d been kneeling on the kitchen floor inside the door. Kat held Toni and our little girl was puckering up to cry. Patricia rushed to comfort her and I hugged Mom and Kat.
We all went back to the living room and sat down.
To Nate Hart, birthdate 9/27/1949:
It has come to the attention of your Local Selective Service Board that the college in which you are enrolled, Columbia College, is not an accredited institution. Therefore, your college deferment is ruled to be invalid. Since you are now twenty years old, you will be reclassified I-A and eligible for induction into the United States military forces on January 1, 1970.
You have thirty days from the date of this letter to appeal your reclassification. Please state your intent to appeal and request a hearing before your local selective service board if you wish to appeal.
Sincerely,
Clyde Warren, Secretary
Hunter County Selective Service Board
“How can they even be called a college if they aren’t accredited?” I asked. “They sent the official forms in. I have copies.”
“That’s the first place you need to get information from,” Mom said. She had a pad of paper and was writing down notes as we talked. “The second is to fight any change of classification that originates with Clyde Warren. If I were a betting woman, I’d lay money that none of the rest of the board has reviewed this decision.”
“Number two-A,” I said. “Talk to Miss Ludwig. She’s been researching the demographics of selections since Warren joined the draft board, compared to before.”
“Get a lawyer,” Patricia said. “That’s something Tony and I just didn’t consider. Get someone who understands the draft law to represent you before the board. Don’t try to go in alone. Beth’s father will know someone good.”
“Number four… maybe move it to number one. File your intent to appeal with the Board and make sure it goes to each member. If Clyde Warren is the secretary of the Board, he probably sees every letter that comes into the office and filters out what he doesn’t want others to see,” Dad said.
“Number five, take me to Canada with you,” Kat said. “I don’t want to lose my brother and my sisters.” She hugged Patricia.
“We might just start a colony,” Dad said.
We all laughed a little at that.
The birthday cake celebration was a little somber, but I choked down a slab of German chocolate cake and ice cream. After hugs all around, Patricia, Toni, and I headed back to Tenbrook.
I swung by the library, not remembering when it closed on Saturday. It was four o’clock and we got there just as Miss Ludwig was locking the door.
“Nate! How good to see you,” she said when she saw me.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been in lately, but it’s been hard to get free from Chicago since we got back from Las Vegas.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ve been busy,” she said.
“I hate to ask about the research you were doing on the draft demographics in the county,” I sighed.
“That’s what has kept me so busy. That kind of information is difficult to track down. It’s there, but they don’t exactly publish it. And since the research definitely points to interference by our former constable, I didn’t want to approach the board directly.”
“It does point to Warren?” I said hopefully.
“Oh, yes.”
“I got a letter from him this week. He’s reclassified me as I-A, effective the first of the year because my college isn’t accredited.”
“Be thankful the county fulfilled its quota for this year already. I’m sure he would have made the reclassification effective immediately if it wasn’t.”
“I have to file an appeal and appear before the board before November 11. I plan to get a lawyer.”
“I will package up all the material I’ve found. Your hunch was dead on. Since Clyde Warren joined the board, every minority male who became eligible for the draft has been inducted. Our generally white county hasn’t noticed it because only fifteen percent of our population is racial minority. But Caucasians are drafted at a rate of one out of five. Blacks at a rate of five out of five.”
“You have my new address. I’m definitely going to fight this. We own a home in Canada now, but I’d rather not be forced to move there as a fugitive.”
Patricia and I went to the hotel and called Ronda and Anna. They were with us in fifteen minutes.
“Those imbeciles!” Ronda screeched when she’d read the letter.
“When do we move?” Anna asked.
“Those were my exact reactions, only with more profanity and a lot of tears,” I chuckled. My stomach was still tied in a knot and I wondered how long I was going to have acid burning in my throat. I grabbed another Rolaids from the bottle my mom gave me before we left Sage. It wasn’t fair for this news to upset me after my favorite meal and favorite cake.
“What’s next?” Patricia asked.
“I’m going to call Jordan,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll be able to direct me to a good lawyer. And I suppose I’d better let Uncle Nate know, too. I just need to be calm when I talk to him.”
“He does kind of come in with guns blazing,” Ronda giggled.
I called and talked to Jordan, even though it was dinner time on Saturday. He said he’d find me an attorney, but that I might not hear until sometime on Monday. That was good. I was going into the provost’s office on Monday morning and raise holy hell. Then I called Uncle Nate.
“This is the same guy who gave you problems when he was constable, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. After he was fired from the village, he somehow got a job with the draft board. He led the effort to deny me my conscientious objector status when I appeared after my eighteenth birthday. I’m pretty sure he manipulated things to get Tony drafted so fast after graduation. We believe he’s been manipulating the call up to make sure all minority kids are called first.”
“He needs to be taught a lesson.”
“Uncle Nate, please don’t confront him. At least not yet. We have several strategies for appealing and possibly for getting him fired again.”
“Oh, I won’t do anything illegal. He simply needs to know he can’t get away with this shit. I’ll talk to your father before I do anything.”
“Okay.”
I wasn’t sure that was a good idea. Dad could come up with some pretty wild ideas. Like threatening the town with a civil rights march with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. if they didn’t get rid of Warren as constable. He had great ideas, but they weren’t always something he could make happen.
I wasn’t the most enthusiastic person about returning to Chicago on Sunday afternoon. We dropped Anna off in Rockford after ‘camping’ for an hour along the way. Having had my cock in Patricia Saturday night and Anna Sunday afternoon made me feel a lot better. Ronda promised me time that night, which we really made the most of. Just sleeping with her cuddled next to me helped settle my stomach.
Beth called about midnight from Atlanta. She was adamant that I had to fight it no matter what. She was sure she knew who her father would recommend as a lawyer and said I should follow his instructions to the letter. We were counting down the days now. She’d be home in two months.
I was shaking outside the provost’s door at seven-thirty Monday morning. I’d met Dr. Ranger before and he greeted me by name in the hall and invited me in. When we were seated, I simply handed him the letter from the Selective Service, which he read thoroughly.
“This isn’t right, Nate.”
“You mean Columbia is accredited?” I asked.
“That is a term that is still being argued over. There has been no requirement to have an independent accreditation for colleges. Especially colleges of the arts. The Illinois Board of Higher Education, established in the early forties, granted Columbia a certification to offer bachelor degrees in several fields. We are candidates for accreditation through the North Central Association Higher Learning Commission, but that process is a lengthy one and may not be completed for two to four years yet. It does nothing to devalue the degrees offered here under the certification from the IBHE. If we were not certified, you would not have been eligible for the State Grant that helps pay your tuition.”
“But the letter is correct then, and Columbia is not accredited.”
“Yes. You need to be aware, though, that there is no requirement for accreditation in order to be granted a student deferment. Our attorneys went through this with the State Selective Service Board and they confirmed that our students would be deferred as long as they meet certain requirements, of which you are well within,” Dr. Ranger said.
“I’m appealing this, of course,” I said. His explanation had helped calm me down and I was no longer shaking. “Can I depend on the college to cooperate with my attorney in defending my deferment?”
“Absolutely. I will personally respond to this letter and will forward a copy to you and your attorney. Let’s make a copy of the letter and I’ll put together a package. What is your attorney’s name?”
“I just received this notification Saturday and have not met with an attorney yet, but my girlfriend’s father is putting me in contact with one this afternoon,” I said.
“Good. Here is my card. Have him contact me directly.”
I was late to my chemistry lecture, but stopped afterward to explain the situation to my professor, who was sympathetic and noted that I was in good standing for both chemistry and chem lab. Both of which I found very interesting since I was mixing chemicals in the photo lab almost every day. I’d already found some techniques and precautions that I should be using and had begun wearing goggles when I was actually mixing the developer, stop bath, and fixative.
I went straight home after my last class at three o’clock and I’d no more than walked in the door when the phone rang and I met Lowell Graves, attorney at law. We set a time to meet at his downtown office on Tuesday afternoon.
“Mr. Graves, it’s nice to meet you,” I said. I was doubtful about that. Yes, he was obviously a lawyer, but he didn’t look any older than me. Surely you have to be in order to get through law school and pass that bar exam thing, don’t you?
“Please, just call me Lowell. Come on in, Nate. I’ll start off by answering your unspoken question.” He led me into his office and we sat on some comfortable furniture. He didn’t try to keep his desk between us. “I’m twenty-seven. I’ve been a lawyer for three years. I joined Jacoby and Associates as a probationary associate before I passed the bar. I’ve been here ever since. That dollar that’s framed on my wall? That’s the first lawsuit I won. We were awarded one dollar for attorney fees. My boss decided he’d just frame it and hang it on my wall. From then on, I get all cases for $10 or less.”
He laughed and I detected that he was making it into a joke. I laughed, too, but discounted the whole story. I’d seen the movie Barefoot in the Park with Robert Redford and Jane Fonda a couple of years ago. It was Redford’s line.
“The question is, can you get this draft thing reversed? The secretary of the Hunter County Selective Service Board is a racist enemy of mine who arranged to get my best friend drafted and killed. He’s been making sure every non-white in the county is drafted. My photos got him canned from his job as Village Constable in Tenbrook and now he’s out to get me,” I said, all in one breath.
Lowell took the letter and read it through. Then he looked at me so intently, I thought he might be reading my mind.
“No problem,” he said. “All we need to do is appeal the decision directly to the State Board. They’ve made it clear that even students in junior colleges and trade schools can be deferred. We can skip the local draft board completely.”
“But that still leaves this racist in power and puts all the guys in Hunter County at risk,” I said hotly. I intended to bring this bastard down. He killed my best friend and was manipulating the calls from Huntertown.
“Are you sure you want to go there?” Lowell asked. “Here’s the thing: We can fight it at your local board and lose, then appeal to the state board, but you might be reclassified anyway as a resister and a threat. Jordan said you’re a conscientious objector, but the board put off making a decision while you’re in college. If we appear there, they will have to take up the matter again. It gives them the option of playing both sides. They reverse your classification of I-A and make you I-O, instead of giving you a II-S deferment. That would mean you are just as likely to be drafted into civilian service as you would be to be drafted into the army. Once you got your I-O classification, it wouldn’t make sense to appeal to the State Board.”
“But they would have to deal with the racist on the board,” I said.
“Probably. But not necessarily. You need to think: How did this guy who was fired as a constable end up in a government appointed job on the draft board? Some good old boy—either on the Board or in power to appoint—got him that job. They aren’t going to look kindly on being called out,” Lowell said.
“Who appoints the members?” I asked.
“The Director of the Selective Service, on behalf of the President. The director makes the appointment based on the recommendation of the governor or another equivalent public official. Could be a senator or representative. The governor who was in office when this guy was appointed resigned to become a judge. It would be hard to pin something intentional on him,” Lowell said.
I thought about the whole situation. It seemed like he’d get off unless we really dug up the dirt on him. I wasn’t sure how much of the evidence Miss Ludwig had gathered was just circumstantial and how much was hard evidence of wrong-doing. And even if I got rid of him, I could possibly still lose my deferment and be classified I-O. The application I made in the first place.
When I first applied, I was willing to start alternative service instead of going to college. I even thought it would be a good break and I’d earn a little money toward my education. When Tony was killed, Patricia gave me the peace symbol he’d given her. I considered it a vow to her as sacred as if we married. It had gotten me beaten twice. Yes, I was still willing to do alternative service and take a break from college. My photography business was doing well and I could continue to pick up courses in the future that would help me along. I didn’t really need a degree. I was only really in school for a deferment that I could afford and many guys my age couldn’t.
And that was really the crux of the matter. The draft preyed on the poor, and blacks, on average, had fewer financial resources and opportunities for continuing education. That left the balance of who was called distorted and out of whack with the population. A balance that was easy for a bastard like Clyde Warren to manipulate.
“No,” I said. “No, absolutely not. I am a conscientious objector. If I’m classified as one, that is the way it is. This guy needs to be held accountable for the pain he’s inflicting on others. It’s about racial and economic justice. I’ve been beaten twice for wearing a peace symbol. Being assigned a job emptying bedpans in a mental hospital is still better than serving in any branch of the US Armed Forces. I want to appeal before the local board.”
“Good. Then I’ll take the case,” he said.
“What?”
“If you were just in it to get a deferment and avoid service, I’d have drafted your letter to the State Board and washed my hands of you. But if you are willing to take the risk of being reclassified in order to bring down a racial bigot manipulating the draft, then I’ll join you and fight for you. Let’s start putting together our case.”
I was in for an intense few weeks. We got the package of research from Miss Ludwig and she mentioned that my Dad had been in to get some information from her, too. Uncle Nate called and said he and Dad were organizing support for us at my hearing, so get it set as soon as possible.
Lowell was not satisfied that any response would be made from the Board if we only sent a general letter that would have to go through the secretary. He sent certified letters to each member of the Board that required a signed receipt.
We were contacted with a date for appearing on November 7. Then it was all about putting together a logical transition from one point to another.
I asked Lowell what this was costing me, because I figured the check I got from my sale of photos to Adrienne and her sponsor was going to be spent on my draft appeal. He said not to worry about it. His direct expenses were being covered by a special defense fund and he was working pro bono.
“This travesty has been going on too long,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for a case that I could push for the end of the draft. If they can’t fill the army with volunteers, then they shouldn’t be off fighting an unjust and illegal war.”
That’s when I realized I’d found more than an attorney. I had an ideological ally.
Of course, I still had to go to school and get some of my grades boosted after missing days of class to get the property in Stratford and a couple of days spent moving into our apartment and getting it furnished. I could scarcely plead for a college deferment if I was flunking out.
And there was a photo assignment from Abe coming in on Saturday. He was vying for an advertising gig for a new brand of pantyhose and was sending all four of the “Attic Allure Models” over to do a sample set of photos. Brittany, Gwyneth, Brandi, and Lori. This would be interesting. I called all three of my assistants in to work that day.
Lori marched straight across the studio and wrapped her arms around me to kiss me. She did a very good and thorough job of it, grinding her pussy against my groin and stiffening cock. I couldn’t stop myself from caressing her breast and squeezing the boob that for so long, I’d refused to touch. I had to assume that if Lori offered to fuck me again, I’d seriously consider it.
But when she was done, I found skinny Gwyneth ready to take her place.
“I can’t say you’re the only boy to have touched my nipples anymore, but I’m hoping you’ll find a reason to do it again.” She kissed me and I took advantage of the invitation to explore the very slight rise in her chest and hard points on top of it.
Brittany stepped into my arms and kissed me.
“Abe isn’t coming to supervise the shot,” she said. “So, if you really want to fuck me, we could find a place back there in the junk pile and have at it.” Her boobs were lush and full. Posing her in Tenbrook had been a delight and pleasure for both of us.
Brandi stepped up to me and tried to light a fire with her tongue in my mouth.
“Vroom vroom,” she said. “Make my engines race today, Nate. I could still do a pantyhose ad in a bucket seat.”
Hmm. That was an interesting possibility and I ran my hand up under her miniskirt to cup her pussy.
“You aren’t wearing them yet,” I said.
“I’m still living our last scene together. We could do a homemade porn together, if you’d like.”
“Get your hot ass over there with the other girls and let’s get the scenes sorted out,” I laughed, squeezing her pussy once. She was hot.
As playful as these four models were, we had a large order of shots to take. We did images of each of the four in nothing but their pantyhose. Abe would love seeing those four sets of titties next to each other—even Gwyneth’s barely-there bumps. It seemed she was a lot less self-conscious about them now than she’d been when I did her portfolio. She’d said I was no longer the only boy who had touched them, so maybe she was just feeling more confident in her sexuality.
Each of the four models had her own unique leg shape and length. I got them all lined up in a chorus line and took several pictures of them kicking in unison, just from the waist down. Of course, I got them full front as well. Then I had a concept for something unique. We gave each girl a jersey from a different sport. Lori got the football jersey that was about ten sizes too big for her. I didn’t mind the sloppy shoulders, but the length was just too much. We made a judicious cut and tore off the bottom half of the jersey. Oh yeah. That was much better. The other three girls altered their jerseys the same way and we got some ultra-sexy sports shots.
Brittany was the most stacked of the four, so I did a series that showed her in just a bra and the pantyhose. Eventually, she lost the bra, and I spent a few moments making sure those big nipples were at attention. Brandi got the domestic scene. She appeared in just the pantyhose and an apron from which she kept slipping. She beckoned me behind the privacy screen and pulled my face to her nipple to suck it up hard. I rubbed at her pussy a little and promised more when we were done and she wasn’t wearing the pantyhose.
I noticed that as I was working with one model and focused on her, Theresa, Leanne, and Cassie were keeping the attention of the other three. I wasn’t sure how they managed it, but I was pretty sure there were girls sucking nipples and rubbing pussies. Theresa even disappeared into the darkroom with Gwyneth for a while to process a roll of film. I was pretty sure Theresa was processing something else. She was thrilled to see someone with breasts even smaller than hers.
We wrapped up the shoot after about five hours and I promised I’d have prints over to Abe early in the week. Of course, he wanted them Sunday, but I’d be working on them Sunday, not delivering them. I was pulled behind the privacy screen by Brandi, who wanted me to deliver on my promise to get her off after she lost the pantyhose. She kissed me and stroked my cock as I finger fucked her to an orgasm.
“I have to leave some for the others,” she rasped. “If not for that, I’d find a way to fuck you.”
She’d no more than jumped off my lap than Brittany was on it.
“I need more portfolio pictures,” she said as she hauled my fingers to her pussy. “I want more time with you and nobody to share with. I’ve been thinking about this minute all afternoon. Yes! Fuck my pussy with your fingers.”
I kissed her to mute her moans as she orgasmed. I was a little surprised when Gwyneth displaced Brittany on my lap.
“I thought you got all you wanted from Theresa,” I said as she wrapped her arms around my neck to kiss me.
“That was good, but no boy has ever had his fingers in my vagina yet. You should kiss me while you make me feel good,” she answered.
Damn! What had these girls taken that made them so horny? I thought the play during the afternoon had been so disjointed and varied that they would be dried up by now. Gwyneth was definitely not dry. I went gently as I invaded her pussy with my fingers and rolled her clit with my thumb. She lay back in my arms and offered her tiny nipples to my questing lips. I knew that even though her breasts were barely there, her nipples were ultra-sensitive. She moaned as I sucked on one and then the other. I pushed a finger as far into her as I could get it and felt her clamp down on it as she came.
“They said I’d like it,” she whispered. “They lied. I loved it. Anytime you’d like to go further, just give me a call.”
Gwyneth grabbed her clothes and rushed off to dress. I was alone for a minute staring down at the lump in my pants. Lori walked up to me.
She was fully dressed.
“Take me home,” she said holding out her hand.
“Lori, if I take you home, you know what we’ll do?”
“I hope so. We have some seriously overdue business to take care of. This time we’re going all the way.”
“If we do that, Ronda will be all over you. She’s a little starved for female company,” I said. “She’ll be sitting on your face while I fuck you and eating my come out of your pussy when I’m done.”
“Oh, God!” she whispered, gripping my hand tighter. “Two fantasies fulfilled at once. Let’s go.”
My prediction proved remarkably accurate. Lori loved our apartment, but she loved Ronda being naked even more. Ronda was surprised, but not displeased. She’d been studying Russian all afternoon—the newest language she was picking up. Apparently, the University had language tapes she could check out and she was sitting with a cassette recorder repeating things after a voice that made us sound like we were a communist training camp.
“Lori!” she said, jumping up and rushing to her former cheerleading partner. “I can’t believe you’re here with us. I love having you visit, but you are way overdressed.” She immediately started pulling Lori’s clothes off of her.
“Are you guys nudists now?” Lori asked in surprise.
“Whenever we’re expecting hot sex,” Ronda answered.
“Were you expecting me?”
“No. But it’s Saturday night. You can’t think I’d be studying until midnight with my hunky boyfriend in the apartment, can you?”
When Lori was naked and had kissed Ronda thoroughly, she turned around to find me naked as well. Just looking at my lover and my model embracing in the buff was enough to get my cock’s attention. I realized that with the preparation for my meeting with the draft board and our school work, Ronda and I hadn’t made love all week. We were both pretty horny.
“Do we get sex before dinner?” Lori asked, falling to her knees, and pulling my cock to her mouth while I finally managed to kiss Ronda.
“Before, during, and after,” Ronda said. “I planned on marathon sex with Nate tonight. I’m pretty sure that you’ll just help extend it.”
“I’ve been imagining this for four years,” Lori said.
“What got into you girls today?” I asked. “They were all crazy for sex,” I explained to Ronda.
“We’ve really become close, if you know what I mean,” Lori answered. “None of us have boyfriends in town, so we kind of need to depend on each other. I sort of shared my perennial frustration over not having had sex with you and they hatched this plan to get you so turned on that when I said I wanted to come home with you, you couldn’t resist.”
“I guess it worked,” I said.
“He had to give three horny girls orgasms after the photoshoot and they had to keep him hard and on edge without letting him come,” Lori explained to Ronda.
“You naughty girl,” Ronda said evilly. “I think you should be punished. Hmm. Maybe we should tie you up and make you watch Nate and me as we fuck like bunnies.”
“Oh, Ronda, please let me play, too,” Lori whined, adopting the tone of a childhood playmate. “You know, I always wanted to play with you in high school. You’d never let me close enough to show you how much I like you.”
“Is that why you decided to seduce my girlfriend while I was out of town?” Ronda asked. “Christine said you got her high.”
“Not really. I was high and I guess I might have breathed a little smoke into her mouth when we kissed. But I’ve quit smoking now. I’m just naturally high all the time,” Lori said. “I can show you everything Chris and I did, though.”
“With the added benefit of having Nate’s cock in your pussy,” Ronda said. “Are you protected?”
“Thanks to your father. I think he’s looked at every teenage pussy in Tenbrook as girls discover he’ll prescribe birth control. For medical reasons, of course. I had no idea how many girls had debilitating menstrual cramps in our town. And irregular periods. It must be something in the water,” Lori giggled.
“The birthrate in Tenbrook has fallen,” Ronda agreed.
We didn’t exactly just fuck there on the living room floor. We did make it to the bed. Round one wasn’t the three-way I’d described to Lori, but we all got our first orgasm of the evening and then pulled the pan of lasagna Ronda had fixed out of the oven. Ronda sat on my lap during dinner and did as much to get me hard and horny as to feed me.
After dinner, we returned to the bedroom and Lori got her face between Ronda’s legs as I sank into the first art model I had. I counted her photo as being the first piece I did that was truly a work of art. I still loved looking at it, and I loved even more having my cock in her pussy.
“We girls have discovered that we need to ignore Nate for a while after he comes and entertain each other. Somehow that always seems to get him ready for another round faster than actually stimulating him physically,” Ronda said. “If you find his cock touching your lips, though, you know what to do.”
“Do I ever. Oh God, Ronda! You can’t imagine how many times I fantasized about having you lick me while I came. Yes! Suck his come out of my pussy! Make me come!”
Ronda could say they ignored me, but I had my part in the chain of events. Ronda got excited by having her head buried between Lori’s thighs, but she got even more excited when I got behind her and rimmed her asshole. I thought at one time, she’d crawl right into Lori’s vagina.
Nonetheless, we did eventually get a little sleep. But I woke up in the middle of the night with my fingers playing in Lori’s love box. I rolled over on top of her and she welcomed my revived cock into her hot core. That time, I moved slowly on her and we kissed and caressed as we both fulfilled the long-held fantasy of model and photographer. She’d been offering to fuck me since she saw that first photo. Now she was.
“What are we doing about the whole ‘never fuck a model’ thing?” Ronda asked. “Not that it hasn’t ever happened before.”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry,” Lori said. “I’m not going to model much longer.”
“Why not?” I asked. “No matter what, we’ve always had great sessions.”
“I’ll still let you take pictures of me anytime you want to. Maybe you’ll be able to take pictures of my pregnancy like you did with Patricia,” Lori said. Both Ronda and I dropped our forks as we looked at her. Breakfast came to a sudden stop.
“Are you pregnant, Lori?” I asked.
“Oh, no. Not yet. But I’m going back to Tenbrook in a week or so for some big rally. I think that’s Stoney’s code for his marriage proposal. He knows I’ll say yes, so as soon as we set a date, I’ll be moving back to dear old Tenbrook to settle into the nice quiet life of Mrs. Constable Stoneburner,” Lori said.
“Congratulations! I can’t believe you came to spend the night with us last night,” Ronda said.
“Had to get that last fling out of my system,” she said. “Once we tie the knot, Stoney will be all there is for me. And you know what? I’m really looking forward to that.”
We had our own reason to be back in Tenbrook the first weekend in November. My appointment to appear before the Selective Service Board in Huntertown was at 11:00 Friday morning the seventh.
Ronda and I left after she got out of class on Thursday and we picked up Anna on our way. We went straight to Sage for dinner with my parents. Patricia and Toni were already there. So were Uncle Nate and Aunt Grace. I was really surprised about that.
“It’s a family matter,” he said. “No one is going to let you stand alone tomorrow. The hearing room will not be big enough to hold us all.”
As if in answer to his voice, there was a knock at the door and my sister Deborah was there with her husband John and now two children, Cameron and Anthony “Don’t-Call-Me-Tony” Lindal. Anthony was just a month old and it was the first time they’d been up to visit since the birth.
“I will not let you stand alone again,” Deborah said, hugging me fiercely. “No brother of mine is going to be forced to serve in the army because his big sister wouldn’t support him.”
We were all pretty choked up and sat down for a very late dinner as we went over the plan for who was arriving with whom on Friday morning. About ten-thirty, I took my family back to Tenbrook. Ronda rode with me and Anna rode with Patricia and Toni. We all met up at the hotel and found Uncle Nate and Aunt Grace were staying there, too, as was my attorney. I’d meet with him in the morning.
The four of us barely fit in the hotel bed. I tried to hold each of them to me as we emotionally ramped up to meet the Board in the morning. In the end, though, it was Anna who claimed most of my attention.
“I’ve never told you about my views on the military,” she said. “I’ve been with you to select an emergency home in Canada and have pledged my love to you, but I’ve never explicitly told you what I believe.”
“Honey, I accept that everyone’s views are different and that we can’t expect everyone to agree with us. I cherish you and the support you’ve given me.”
“I know that. You need to know how I really feel. We could not be bound together more tightly if Reverend Mother Superior had officiated our vows and pronounced us married. In my heart you are my husband. Ronda and Patricia are my sister wives. And Elizabeth, I think. I do miss her. I love you to the depth of my being and I will never forsake you. I believe the military in its present incarnation is an abomination before God, hired killers to do the will of ungodly men in power. I believe most of the enlisted and the drafted men in the army believe they are fighting for their country, but they are not. They are fighting for the sake of the political power and the wealth of a very small portion of Americans. The war in Vietnam is profitable for these people and will not end until we the people of America make it unprofitable for them. I am glad you oppose the war. I am proud that you have believed so strongly in your cause that you have endured physical abuse and that you will stand against a racist bully who uses the draft as a way to dispose of people he doesn’t like. I will stand with you against any opponent and if that means we go to Canada to live in our new little home, I will be there with you. I love you, Nate.”
By the time she’d finished her little speech we were all crying. Anna had always been there for me. Even when we broke up, she stayed beside me to work on the photographs. She came to work for me to do my accounting. She planned our prom night for a three-day weekend. She was precious to me and to Ronda and Patricia. They cuddled close to us as Anna welcomed me into her body and we made love.
We went into Huntertown about nine o’clock and stopped for breakfast at the diner. My lawyer was with us and had a shit-eating grin on his face. He handed me a copy of the morning newspaper.
Fired Racist Cop Allegedly Uses Draft Board To Carry Out Racial Pogrom in Hunter County
A disgraced village constable, fired for racist targeting of individuals, rose to a position of power on the Hunter County Selective Service Board and has allegedly used that position to manipulate the calling of draftees. Librarians in Hunter County united to investigate a seeming anomaly in the percentage of racial minorities called for induction compared to Caucasians.
“We have found that demographically, the calling of racial minorities for induction into the armed forces from Hunter County is so far in excess of the population demographics as to be ludicrous,” said Edna Ludwig, chief librarian in Tenbrook, just fifteen miles southeast of Huntertown.
“What amazes me is that no one put together the coincidence that this percentage spiked after former Constable Clyde Warren was appointed to the Draft Board,” Ludwig continued. “This can only be attributed to a fraudulent manipulation of draft notices.”
Ludwig went on to describe the extensive research that the county’s librarians undertook to discover this information.
Attorney Allen White of Huntertown reviewed the stacks of paper documenting the alleged infractions and has drawn up a civil suit against the Selective Service Board, naming the State Board and the Selective Service System, an agency of the US Government, as co-defendants for allowing such rank discrimination in its department.
“This is what librarians are truly for,” White stated. “They know how to dig up the facts. And lawyers… We’re just attack librarians.”
Photos accompanying this article are by Tenbrook photographer Nate Hart and show the racially motivated police brutality that resulted in the termination of Warren as constable of the Village of Tenbrook.
Lowell grinned at me over the newspaper. “I live for a case like this. We may have to argue it before the Supreme Court. I’ve already been in contact with White and we are definitely on the same page. Let’s go meet the Board.”
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
