Outside of their Jurisdiction

"Chief, I tell you; your momma done taught you right," Willie said as he pushed his empty plate away.

"Sure 'nough," the other customer agreed, dredging his last French fry through the Delmonte ketchup.

"Why did he call you Chief?" Theresa asked as Ronnie placed her plate in front of her.

"Must've been maybe five years old? School had a Halloween party," Ronnie smiled as he began to shut everything down. "I was an Indian. Darren was a ghost and Francine was a ballerina. Darren kept stepping on the corner of his sheet, blinding himself when he couldn't see out the eye holes. Anyway, Mr. Willie seen us and been calling me 'Chief' ever since. That's okay; he calls Darren 'Spooky' and Francine 'Dancer.'"

"Aw!" Theresa smiled at Ronnie's description of a memory of years ago.

"Anyway," Theresa said, pushing her empty plate away. "My goodness, Ronnie! You really are an excellent cook."

She indicated the stack of books on the counter next to her. Ronnie nodded and waited. Theresa picked up the first book, an Algebra textbook and flipped it open.

"You are going to get your high school diploma," Theresa announced. "You and I are going to go up to your apartment and we're going to study for the final exams."

"I don't get no say in none of this?" Ronnie smiled, holding his hand over the grill, checking that it was truly turned off.

"Ronnie, Ronald Jonathon Spuntzin, you know better than to use two negatives in a single sentence," she playfully admonished him as he now turned off the overhead lights.

"I don't know nothing 'bout none of that," he teased as he grabbed the stack of books. "Pretty sure that was three negatives in one sentence, though. The stairs are back here."

As a true gentleman, Ronnie allowed Theresa Duplantis to proceed him up the stairs. The miniskirt was very short and as she pumped her legs, Ronnie was treated to the sight of her muscled thighs propelling her to the second floor of the building. Her haunches were framed beautifully in the short skirt and Ronnie hoped for a glimpse of her panties as they climbed.

Entering the apartment, Ronnie guided her to their small dining area. They sat at the small table, the table where he and his mother and father ate Sunday breakfast before church, then a late lunch/early dinner after church. Getting comfortable, he worked on the practice tests she'd devised for him. He did not say anything, but Theresa had taken the seat his mother normally used.

"Show me to your bathroom, then we'll have one final lesson," Theresa smiled an hour later, closing the American History textbook.

Ronnie showed Theresa to the small, clean bathroom, then set about tidying up the small, neat living room/dining area. His eyes burned; he'd been slaving all day over a hot grill and studying all night.

"The final lesson will be in your bedroom," Theresa said from the doorway of the bathroom.

Ronnie turned and nearly fainted. The twenty seven year old teacher was nude, except for her high heeled pumps. The light of the bathroom shone from behind her, highlighting her beautiful body. Her large breasts were capped with brown areolae roughly the size of half dollar coins. Her waist was small and tapered into her lush hips. Where Ronnie would expect to see a thatch of dark curls was bare.

"Left," Ronnie croaked, pointing to the open doorway.

She clicked his bedside lamp on then crawled onto his neatly made bed. Even if his mother wasn't there to make him do it, Ronnie had made his bed out of habit. Theresa lay on his bed and spread her legs wide.

"First, show me how a man kisses his lover," Theresa demanded.

She talked him through the art of kissing. In truth, Francine and Jan had already taught Ronnie good techniques and Theresa soon moved him to pleasuring a woman's breasts. Again, he'd been taught these skills by his two friends. But there was a vast difference in fumbling in a darkened movie theater, through layers of blouse and bra and caressing, squeezing, and fondling a woman's breasts, lying nude on a twin sized bed.

Theresa's pubic mound was shaved bare and had a good, musky smell to it. Theresa grunted, groaned and moaned through teaching Ronnie how to lick, finger and suck a woman to climax after climax. Then, she had him lay down on his bed. And she gave him his very first blow job. Ronnie was sure he'd died and gone to heaven as her hot, wet mouth encircled the head, then his shaft slid into her mouth as she bobbed her head up and down. He grunted that his crisis was near and she increased the suction on the head of his cock.

"I'll be back on Monday. I believe that's pork chop night?" Theresa asked, sitting back with a satisfied smile on her face.

After letting Mrs. Duplantis out through the front door, Ronnie closed and locked all the windows. Then, stumbling in exhaustion, he went upstairs and fell asleep.

Saturday, the Spuntzin General Store was closed; Ronnie's parents' funeral was that morning. Many people showed up, many people stopped to offer their condolences. More than one person said aloud how despicable Sheriff Duplantis was, how truly pathetic and inefficient Sheriff Henderson of Clarkston County was. Ronnie could only nod his head in silent agreement.

Saturday night, just after ten pm, there was a hard hammering on the door and Ronnie staggered down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He saw Frankie Sopopano standing at the glass door.

"Big Joe wants see you," Frankie said when Ronnie jerked the door open.

Frankie drove them to the warehouse. Entering the warehouse, Ronnie saw two young men and one young woman hanging from hooks. The two men were suspended upside down, dangling at least twenty feet above the concrete floor. The young blonde was also nude, but was suspended by her wrists as she dangled above the floor.

"Sheriff Duplantis wasn't going do nothing," Big Joe explained as he pointed to the three long haired youths. "Figured it was these three punks; pulled up on them Harleys, filled up then went inside. Come out not even two minutes later running like scalded cats."

"Come on, man! One young man whined. "Shit; old man just opened the fucking cash register like we told him none this would have happened man."

"Yeah man, like cool out, huh?" the girl braved saying.

"They managed to get six bucks," Big Joe said. "Believe that? Your mom and dad and that Paul Brown died for six lousy bucks?"

"Shit man, fucking bread's in my saddlebag man," the first young man said. "Fuck, you that hung up on money man? Just fucking take it man."

"You're just slaves to the corporate world, man," the girl offered. "Fuck man, just part of the rat race man. All bow down to the all mighty dollar, man."

"You believe this shit? They kill three people over a few lousy bucks but somehow we're the issue, huh?" Big Joe shook his head.

"It's not about the money, you long haired louses," Big Joe growled angrily, walking to the wall. "It's about paying this young man. See, that was his mom and dad you killed."

"Fuck man, we set them free. They was just slaves..." the first young man sneered.

Big Joe let the chain loose and the young man screamed as he suddenly plunged to the floor. His hanging arms offered no protection as he struck the concrete floor.

"Well, let me set you free," Big Joe quipped, pulling the chain and hoisting the battered young man upward again.

"Fuck man! Man, we're sorry!" the second young man screamed, now terrified. "All right? We're sorry man!"

The girl loosed both bladder and bowels. Big Joe dropped the first young man again and his head made a sickening 'Plop' sound as it struck the floor.

"Oh dear God! Please save us!" the second young man screamed as Big Joe again hoisted his friend.

"Believe this, huh Frankie? Thought he said there was no God, huh?" Big Joe laughed.

"Yeah, how 'bout that, huh?" Frankie agreed. "Looks like he found religion."

The girl had fainted before Big Joe was finished with her two companions. She woke up when Frankie hosed her nude body clean with a garden hose. She screamed and begged for her life when Big Joe unhooked the chain from the wall. He lowered her to the floor, holding her just above the floor on her toes. Frankie made sure to hose every square inch of her body clean before unhooking her arms from the chains.

"So, what's going happen to her?" Ronnie asked as Frankie roughly dropped the nude woman into the trunk of the Cadillac.

"We got us a little club in Myndee; maybe you heard of it? Cotton Blossom?" Big Joe said as he began to hose the concrete floor clean. "Anyhow, Debbie's going be dancing there. You go there, tell Louie Big Joe said get you with, hmm, what you think 'bout Desiree? Yeah, I like that name. Tell Louie get you with Desiree for a little nookie, huh? Course, good looking boy like you? Ain't got no trouble getting you the nookie, huh?"

Big Joe fished some keys out of his pocket and handed them to Ronnie. He indicated a modified Harley-Davidson in the corner. The motorcycle sported long chopper forks and an elongated seat with a padded sissy bar.

"Joey said he wants the one got the eagle on the gas tank," Big Joe said. "So, you get the one with the flames, okay? Got the title in the bag there all legal and stuff."

Sunday, Ronnie caused some eyebrows to rise when he rode his motorcycle to church. Francine gawked at him; Polly May smiled and nudged her daughter aside as she sashayed to where Ronnie stood, pulling his helmet off.

"Hiyah Tiger; give an old woman a ride?" Polly May cooed, thrusting her substantial chest against Ronnie's torso.

"Well sure! Just show me where this old woman is," Ronnie smiled, enjoying the murderous looks Francine was shooting at the two of them.

"Oh, you are just a charmer, ain't you?" Polly May cooed, linking arms with him.

"Deacon Harv's going give me a lift on home," Polly May said at the end of service. "Why you don't give Franny a ride, huh?"

"If she'll let me," Ronnie agreed, looking around for the red headed girl.

"Why you don't give that old whore a ride?" Francine yelled when Ronnie asked her if she wanted a ride on his motorcycle.

"Francine Wilson! That is your momma," Ronnie snapped, scandalized.

"So?" Francine spat, tears filling her big beautiful brown eyes.

"Sweetheart, don't you ever talk about your momma like that," Ronnie ordered, kicking his leg over the saddle of his iron horse.

"What, what did you call me?" Francine demanded.

"I don't know. What? Francine? Franny? What?" Ronnie asked, preparing to kick his hog into life.

"You called me 'Sweetheart,'" Francine accused.

"What? I did not; why would I do that?" Ronnie argued, kicking the loud bike into life, shutting out any further conversation.

"You did too," Francine yelled as he roared away. "I heard you. And Gond heard you too."

Mrs. Glover gave Francine a ride from church to the shack. Once home, Francine sat outside, studying her Algebra textbook while Harvey Mills fucked Polly May. It wasn't love, it was sex, pure and simple. Before he left, he gave Polly May enough money for her electric bill. When she smiled and sucked on her finger, Harvey gave her an additional twenty bucks.

Monday evening, at six fifty, Mrs. Duplantis entered the empty general store, sat at the counter and ate dinner. While she teased Ronnie, fiddling with the buttons on her blouse, Ronnie did the shutdown sequence for the store.

When the chores were completed, they again marched up the stairs. Ronnie and Theresa studied for an hour, then Theresa guided him to his bedroom. Quietly, with many soft kisses, Theresa instructed Ronnie on the art of undressing a lover.

"You're not in a race," she whispered as her bra fluttered to the floor. "Slowly, sensually, undress her, caress her, pleasure her."

Ronnie reviewed; the proper way to kiss, the proper way to fondle a woman's breasts, tease her areolae, the proper way to perform cunnilingus. Then she taught him how to roll a condom onto his erect manhood. First, she showed Ronnie the missionary position.

A second condom was used when Theresa demonstrated the doggy position. They both enjoyed this position; it gave Ronnie free access to her hanging breasts. A third condom was spent in learning the cowgirl position. He liked this position as well; it again gave him free access to her bouncing swaying breasts.

"The exams are Wednesday night," Theresa said, dressing again.

"I'll be ready," Ronnie tiredly agreed.

"Of course, with six exams, it might take two or three nights," Theresa mused as she proceeded Ronnie down the stairs.

"It might," Ronnie agreed.

And it did take more than one night. After Ronnie blazed through his Algebra and Civics exams, Theresa and he again reviewed undressing, kissing, breast play and cunnilingus. Then they reviewed the doggy position. Urging him to locate the can of lard, Theresa then taught Ronnie a second purpose of the doggy position.

"And, best of all," Teresa grunted and gasped as Ronnie's thick fingers plunged in and out of her willing rectum. "There is no need of a condom. I mean, in truth, yes, pregnancy is possible but it is a very remote possibility if the seed is ejaculated into the bowels."

Ronnie had believed Theresa's mouth to be as close to bliss as one could come. The feeling of entering her bald vagina; she said the word 'pussy' was demeaning was also quite pleasurable, even with a latex sheath. But the feeling of pushing his greased manhood into her struggling, straining rectum was beyond compare. From the first moment of gaining entry into her struggling bowels, Ronnie was an anal aficionado.

"Fuck...me..." Theresa growled as he pushed steadily forward.

"Arrgh!" she screamed out when Ronnie reached around and briskly rubbed her clitoris.

Ronnie could feel Theresa's rectal muscles squeezing, squirming, pulsing around his thrusting cock. He could feel the sperm bubbling up in his balls as he pushed and pulled, thrusting harder and faster into her incredible tightness. With a surprised bellow, Ronnie pumped a stream of semen into her guts. Slumping forward, Ronnie and Theresa fell onto the bed.

"English and American History tomorrow night," Theresa calmly said as she stepped out of his bathroom.

"Yes ma'am," Ronnie wheezed.

She was almost two hours late on Thursday night. As she explained, she'd had to fix dinner for her husband, her two ill-behaved step-children and her own daughter that evening. Then, she had to wrestle her two step-children into the bath while her damned husband sat and watched their color television and drinking beer. And, when she'd finally succeeded in getting the three girls bathed, dressed in their pajamas and down for the night, her husband wanted sex.

"So, no," she smiled tightly. "We shall not have cunnilingus tonight. He is desperate to get me pregnant again; he wants a son."

"He was drinking beer?" Ronnie smirked. "But I thought Bloutchen County is a dry county?"

Ronnie again blazed through the examinations. Then, grabbing the can of lard, he prepared Theresa's back door for anal sex.

"And..." Theresa said, having Ronnie lay down upon his bed. "Reverse cowgirl is also an excellent position for both to enjoy anal sex."

"But in cowgirl, it's easier to play with your tits," Ronnie pointed out.

Breasts," Theresa gently corrected.

Friday night, Theresa again lamented the late hour. Ronnie softly kissed her and assured her he was just happy to see her, no matter the hour. And after completing the final two examinations, Theresa showed Ronnie that anal sex could be enjoyed with the woman draped over the arm of the horsehair couch, as well as resting across the tabletop.

"I'll miss you," Theresa whispered as she pulled her full cotton panties up her shapely legs. "Oh well; back to my dildo, I suppose. But for anal? There is simply nothing like the real thing."

"Sheriff Duplantis don't do your back door?" Ronnie asked as he glanced at his high school diploma again.

"That is an abomination unto the Lord!" Theresa intoned, imitating her husband's wheezing manner of speech. "Believe it or not, the fool doesn't even like when I suck his cock."

"Hmm!" Ronnie said, following her down the stairs.

Later that week, the class of 1967 graduated from James S. Conway High School. The very next day, Francine Wilson marched into the general store, grabbed Darlene's spare apron and walked behind the counter. Ronnie watched as the beautiful, freckle faced red head grabbed the coffee pot and refilled Reverend Duncan's cup.

"Uh, Francine, what you doing?" Ronnie asked.

"What's it look like? I'm working," she said. "Now that we're high school graduates? We need start on the next phase of our lives."

"Uh, what's that?" Ronnie asked.

"Us getting married, having a bunch of kids, running this place until we're old and gray," Francine said. "Mr. Collins? You wanting more coffee?"

"If it comes with one them purty smiles," the old perv agreed.

"Well, what else it would come with?" she smiled and filled his cup.

"Uh, I don't get no say in this?" Ronnie asked, setting Mr. Collins' plate of two eggs over easy in front of the man.

"Why, sure you do," Francine smiled, putting the coffee carafe on the burner again. "You can say 'yes' or you can say 'yes dear.' Personally, I like yes dear."

"Wait, what about that Charlie fellow there?" Ronnie asked.

"Him? That was high school. Might've noticed; we ain't in high school no more," Francine snorted with a wave of her hand.

"Yes dear," Ronnie shrugged and Francine beamed a thousand watt smile while Mr. Collins and Reverend Duncan laughed.

"Dancer! My God, girl, every time I see you you looking more beautiful than ever," Willie Dennis declared, plopping down on a stool.

"Mr. Willie, how you doing?" she smiled, setting a coffee cup and saucer in front of the man.

"Two eggs sunny side up," Ronnie announced before the trucker could place his order.

"Now if you knew that, then why them eggs ain't done yet?" Willie asked. "Dancer you been all right?"

"Yes sir; graduated from school and all," she said, walking to the cash register where Reverend Duncan waited.

"Now that right?" Willie said. "Chief, what 'bout you? You graduated?"

"Yes sir; going put my diploma right up there," Ronnie nodded to a blank space on the wall behind the register where other frames hung.

"And I see that Theresa Duplantis 'round here I'm snatch her bald, you hear?" Francine hissed in Ronnie's ear when there was a lull in business.

"Too late," Ronnie muttered, thinking of Mrs. Duplantis' shaved pussy.

"Now, Mr. Grossman; got that pawn shop up on Route sixteen?" Francine said as she loaded the dishwasher.

"Uh huh?" Ronnie said, preparing the first batch of pork chops for the luncheon special.

"Got this real pretty ring; it ain't nothing too fancy ain't got no real big diamond or nothing," Francine said.

"Uh huh," Ronnie said.

"And said you buy it he'll throw in the wedding bands come with it," Francine continued, pouring a cup of coffee each for Frankie Sopopano and Junior.

Ronnie smirked as the two men smiled a knowing smile at him. He looked over at the waiting Francine.

"And how much he wanting for this ring?" Ronnie asked, as he slid the rack of pork chops into the double oven.

"Just eighty bucks," Francine said, bouncing in her happiness.

"Eighty! Francine, that ain't chicken feed," Ronnie said and felt terrible when he saw the look of disappointment on his sudden fiancé's face.

"But its real pretty," Francine mumbled.

"Francine, it might be the prettiest ring in the world and God knows you deserve it," Ronnie said and set about making the cheddar cheese sauce for the macaroni and cheese. "But eighty bucks is eighty bucks."

"See you around, kid," Frankie said as a subdued Francine rang up their breakfast.