A young couple bets they can fuck four time in 60 minutes.
All characters are over 18.
^^^
"Put it in me," the young woman pleaded. "I need you to fuck me!"
"I'll try," the young man said.
The young lovers were exhausted. The bed smelled of sex. They'd had intercourse three times already, but that wasn't enough. She needed to do it one more time.
The eighteen-year-old was on her hands and knees. Her cunt was engorged and slick from her vaginal fluid and the three loads he had dumped in her. She looked over her shoulder at him desperate for one more.
"What have I gotten myself into," the curly-haired man mumbled under his breath. He held his soiled, noodle of a dick and rubbed the tip against her messy slit. It didn't go in.
She begged, "Please!"
He said, "Sorry. There's no iron in my rod. No wood in my woody. You know, you can't push a rope."
^^^A couple of days earlier^^^
"Hey, you. With the curly hair. Will you be the fourth?"
Cal was walking along fraternity row. He'd opted to attend a summer session and that's why he and the others were at college in July. He looked toward the shouting voice. Not because women made a habit out of calling him over, but because he had thick, curly black hair.
"Me?" he said to the pretty redhead. She had her long hair in a ponytail. She was young and slim like him, but better looking and she had a more developed chest. The thin male glanced at her pale, freckled cleavage and then into her bewitching, hazel eyes.
"Yes. You. My sister has challenged me to a game of beer pong. I don't back down from challenges. Especially, when they involve my bossy older sisters. I told her I could beat her and her boyfriend with the next dude that walked by. That happens to be you. Will you help me?"
She smiled and fluttered her long eyelashes. She stood on the ball of her right foot and rotated her body. She looked to the ground and behaved in a coquettish manner
Cal hesitated. The offer seemed too good to be true.
The other young women said, "It looks like a forfeit!"
"Please, I've been left in a lurch," the redhead said earnestly to Cal. "The truth is my boyfriend was supposed to play, but I just broke up with him. I went to get him for the game and found him eating another chick's pussy."
"Oh," the young man grunted. Then he said, "Sure. I'll play. My name is Cal."
"Great! Everyone calls me Fourth."
He did a double take.
She giggled and said, "I'm a Southern girl from a small town. My parents had four daughters. I'm the youngest and everyone in town referred to me as the fourth daughter or Fourth for short. It doesn't help that my last name is July. The townsfolk got a kick calling me the Fourth of July."
"I can see how that could happen," Cal said.
"Yes. I went along because it was better than my given name, Agnes. My parents had a thing about old-timey names. This is my sister, Beatrice."
A young woman with honey brown hair stepped forward and extended her hand. He shook it. The twenty-year-old said, "Call me Bee. This is my boyfriend, Paul."
"Hey," the barrel-chested college boy said. They shook hands. Paul had a bone-crushing handshake. Cal winced.
The board was set up. They had a spirited game. The advantage went back and forth. Cal sunk the winning shot.
Fourth yelled, "Ha! You lose, sister. Drink up." Then she turned to her partner and hugged him. Her big, cushiony breasts pressed against Cal. He smiled nervously, then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her soft flesh into him.
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and said, "Thanks for your help. My sisters are all so high and mighty and treat me as if I'm still a kid. It's nice when I beat them at anything."
Cal let go of the pretty teen. His face was red from their embrace, he said, "You're welcome. That was fun."
"It was. Hey, we are having a barbecue at our farm to celebrate the Fourth of July. Not me, but the national holiday. Why don't you come?"
"Sounds like fun," Cal responded.
"It is. Plenty of good food and lots of games followed by fireworks. Not the giant extravaganza you see on television, but a nice show. Families with kids show up around noon, eat, and then play simple games. You can come later if you want to avoid the screaming kids."
"When will you be there?"
She smiled, showed her pearly white teeth, and said, "All day. I'm going home the night before. I help my parents and sisters get everything ready."
"Then I'll be there at noon."
She smiled again and said, "Give me your number and I'll text you the address."
^^^
Two days later, Cal left the college town and drove into the countryside. Forty minutes later, he saw red, white, and blue bunting hanging from the mailbox of the address he was looking for.
He pulled into the gravel drive and drove up to the old farmhouse. Cars were parked all around it. He found a spot, parked, and walked toward the noise coming from the back of the house.
He turned the corner and saw three generations standing and sitting in the shade of tall trees. Some of the kids were in the trees. Others were shouting and running around. Most of the adults were sipping a clear liquid from wide-mouth Mason jars.
Cal stood there and looked around. He said to himself, "This was a dumb idea. I feel like I'm intruding on a family get-together."
A middle-aged man with a tanned and weather face walked up to him and said, "Hello, friend. I'm glad you could join us." He stuck out his hand, smiled, and said, "My name is Jedidiah July. I'm the current caretaker of this farm. It's been in the family for 150 years. Which of my daughters invited you?"
"Agnes."
"Hmm," he grunted and chuckled. "I take it you don't know her very well. She hates that name. If you want to get on her good side, call her Fourth. She's over this way."
Jedidiah turned and led him to the loudest circle of people. They heard cheering, shouting, and occasionally, a scream.
Mr. July was tall enough to peer over the heads of the crowd. He said, "It looks like Fourth and Bee are playing a game of 'stretch mumblety-peg.'"
Cal was tall enough to see over the crowd too. He saw Fourth sitting on her ass. She stared daggers at her sister and said, "Bee, you got lucky that time."
"Yeah, right. That's what losers say," the tall, skinny woman with honey-brown hair said in a taunting manner. "It's not a matter of luck. That was a demonstration of skill."
The redhead scrambled to her feet. In her haste, Fourth gave those around her a good down-blouse view of her ample boobs. The men chuckled seeing her pale, white breasts.
Fourth stood and said, "The game is two out of three. We've each won once. This will decide who wins."
"That'll be me," Bee said.
"Me!" Fourth shouted.
The two women faced each other for the third and deciding game. To get the proper distance from each other, they reached out an arm and touched fingers, then they put their feet together. Each had a pocket knife, a Buck 55. The lightweight, folding knives had a 2 3/8" blade and an overall length of 5 3/4".
Bee held her knife by the blade and flicked it at the ground near her sister's right foot. It stuck in the ground about four inches from her sandal-covered foot.
Fourth slid her near foot out and until it touched the blade. She left her foot there, picked up the knife, and threw it near her sister's foot. Bee extended her foot, retrieved the blade, and made another throw.
Cal was a city boy and not familiar with mumblety-peg. As he watched the women take turns he learned that the goal seemed to be to embed the knife in the ground. If the blade stuck in the ground, your opponent had to place their foot at that place. If the knife didn't stick, that was considered a bad throw, nothing happened, and your opponent took the next toss.
He turned to Jedidiah and said with concern showing in his voice, "Shouldn't Fourth be wearing more protective footwear?"
Her father laughed and said, "That girl never has had much use for shoes. As a kid, she went barefoot all the time. Her ma and I had to bribe her to get shoes on her for Sunday church and going to school. You don't have to worry about the knife sticking her. All my daughters are good with guns and knives."
Cal looked back at the game and saw Fourth putting her knife in the space between her right foot and Bee's blade in the ground.
"What is she doing?" he asked.
"Two things," Jedidiah said with a chuckle. "The object of the game is to stretch your opponent out until they lose their balance and fall. You have to 'walk' them out. Your throw cannot be any further than the length of the knife from either foot. She is checking to see if her sister made a legal throw and that appears to be the case."
Fourth was wearing a summer, halter-top dress. It was backless with spaghetti straps that supported a V-neck in the front. The pretty green dress had pleats and a short skater's skirt.
Jedidiah continued, "The second thing she is doing is demonstrating a total lack of awareness. She's so consumed by the game, that she doesn't realize she's giving those behind her a view of her underwear and those in front of her a view of her bosom."
Both men and a dozen others souls standing near them saw her round mounds, nipples included. Gasps were heard coming from some spectators.
Bee giggled and said, "Fourth, you're showing the goods."
"Huh?"
The redhead looked up and saw a bunch of men and women gawking at her with jaws dropped. All eyes were focused on her exposed breasts or her bare ass cheeks. She was wearing a thong under her dress and nothing more.
She quickly stood up and said, "Bee, your toss was good." Her face was nearly as red as her hair. She shook herself and tried to regain her composure.
Jedidiah turned away and mumbled as he walked away, "Where is her mother? Why can't she get her girls to wear proper undergarments?"
Fourth was unnerved after flashing everyone. Her next throw didn't stick. Two more quality throws by Bee had Fourth overextended and she fell on her butt.
"I win! I win!" Bee shouted and jumped about.
"It's not fair. You're so tall. You have freakishly long legs. It's almost impossible to stretch you out."
Bee put her hands on her hips, gave her sister a hard look, and said, "You missed on three throws, sister. That's what cost you the game."
The game over, the crowd dispersed. Cal walked up to Fourth and said, "Good try."
She sneered at him and said, "What's next? Are you going to hand me a 'participation trophy'?" she gave him a hard look and spat out, "You play to win the game. Winning is everything."
The words hit Cal hard because they were unexpected. He stepped back and his face looked like a little kid who had just been told there is no Santa Claus.
