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Putting the 4th in the 4th of July

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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 kaçak iddaa 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 kaçak bahis 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.

Fourth scrambled to her feet and said, “I’m sorry. I apologize for spewing venom on you when you’re just being polite. Do you have siblings?”

“No.”

“Well, count yourself lucky.”

“Actually, I’ve always thought the opposite. That it’d be great to have someone around your age who you’re related to. A built-in friend and playmate.”

“Let me explain how family dynamics work when there are multiple children,” Fourth said. “Everyone has a role. In my family, Del is the pretty one. Cece is the smart one. Bee is the best athlete. And I’m the youngest. Everyone thinks of me as the baby even though now I’m an adult.”

“You’re pretty and smart. Can’t more than one person . . .?”

“No. Only one can be the prettiest. All my life Del was the glamorous one. She had pretty, matching bras and undies when I didn’t even own a training bra and I had cartoon characters on my panties.

“She got to go to the beauty parlor with mom to have her hair styled. Mom didn’t take me because I was ‘the baby’.” Fourth used air quotes for the last two words.

She continued, “Mom didn’t think it was worth taking me because she doubted I was capable of using curlers and the gels and sprays to keep it up. She didn’t think I was able to have a hairstyle more complicated than a ponytail so she’d cut my hair at home.

“It was the same thing with my other sisters. Cece would be reading Jane Austin or Shakespeare and I had a comic book. Bee could always out jump or run faster than me.”

Cal said, “I understand, but it seems to me the issue isn’t that you are bad or lacking something. It’s that you are younger. What is the age gap between you and your sisters?”

“Bee is four years older. She’s twenty-two. Cece is twenty-seven and Del is thirty.”

“Del is twelve years older than you? So when she was eighteen and fully mature, you were a six-year-old kid. It is not fair to compare a child to an adult or someone who’s many years older. Of course, the younger one can’t compete. A fairer comparison would be you at ten and someone else at ten or wait until everyone is an adult.”

“That is now,” Fourth said. “I’m eighteen. We are all grown up. I’m going to show them that I’m not the baby. I’m an adult and I should be viewed and treated as one.”

^^^

Cal spent the afternoon with Fourth. They helped the younger kids make crafts and play games. It was fun.

He ate dinner with her.

“Mrs. July,” Cal said. “The food is delicious. I especially like the pork barbecue.”

Around him rose a chorus of tittering.

Irene smiled and said, “Thank you. I take it you are not from the South.”

“No, Ma’am. My family is from Massachusetts. We moved here recently when my father was transferred.”

Irene bestowed a kind smile on him and said, “A southern woman may rule the house, but barbecuing and making moonshine, those are a man’s domain. Your compliment should be given to Jedidiah.”

Cal blushed, looked at Mr. July, and said, “Sir, the barbecue is very good.”

“Thank you, son,” Jedidiah responded.

Later that evening, Del, Cece, and Bee approached Fourth. Del was holding an antique, diamond and pearl brooch. She said, “Do you think this is a pretty brooch?”

“Yes. It’s great, great, great grandmother’s moon brooch, isn’t it?”

Cece said, “Yes. Now that you’re eighteen, you’re eligible to wear it.”

“It’s a beautiful piece. I’ve noticed that it has been passed around between the three of you, mom, and her sister. I’ve seen it on grandmother and in photos of our older female relatives. Mom said one day I’d have a chance to wear it.”

“Today is that day,” Bee said.

“How does it work? Do I tell you when I want it?”

Del said, “No. This isn’t like a book at the library that you can check out if it’s available.”

“Every year on this day the adult women in our family who are interested can compete to be the keeper of the brooch for a year,” Bee said.

“Count me in,” Fourth said.

“That’s your birthright,” Cece said. “The competition illegal bahis is not for the faint of heart.”

“I’m ready,” Fourth said. Her voice was strong

“It involves sex,” Del said. She raised her eyebrows in a questioning matter.

“That doesn’t scare me.”

Cece said, “Here is how this works. It’s a bit like a game of bridge. We take turns making bids until no one is willing to make a higher bid. Then, that person must make the bid. They have one hour to do what they said. If she accomplishes her task in the allotted time, she wins and gets the brooch for a year.

“If you don’t,” Bee said. “You lose and you’re out of the game. The game starts over without you.”

“I’m not a good bridge player, but I understand the concept of bidding. What do you bid?” Fourth asked.

“Sex acts,” Del said.

“With who?” Fourth asked. The tone of her voice showed that she was shaken up.

Bee said, “The person of your choice. For me, it’ll be my boyfriend, Paul. Our older sisters pair up with their husbands. For Mom, Dad. Aunt Gertrude has Uncle James.

Fourth’s jaw dropped when Bee mentioned that her mother and aunt would be included. She steadied herself and asked, “How does this work exactly?

“A deck of cards has four suits: clubs, diamonds, hearts, and spades. Clubs are the lowest. Spades are the highest,” Del said. “In bridge, a bid of one heart beats one diamond or one club, but two of anything beats one of anything.”

Del paused and gave her sister a questioning look. Fourth nodded indicating that she understood.

Del said, “The approved acts in ascending order are: a handjob, a blowjob, ’69’, and, the highest, fucking. Anal is not on the list because our ancestors didn’t think it was something a lady would or should do.”

Cece said, “One fuck beats one of any of the other acts. Two of anything beats a fuck.”

“I understand,” Fourth said. She asked, “Who invented this game?”

“A pair of sisters did in the 1920s. They were young and completely caught up in the ‘flapper’ phenomenon. They had the short ‘bob’ hairstyle. They smoked, drank alcohol, danced to jazz music, and wore knee-length dresses. They rode in cars with boys and made out with them,” Cece answered.

“Scandalous!” Fourth said in a teasing manner.

“For their time, yes,” Del said. “Their mother died. The daughters fought over the brooch. One of our Great-Great- Grandfathers told them to work out a sharing arrangement. These girls from the roaring twenties came up with this system.”

“This is some system,” Fourth said.

“Yes,” Bee said. “It has stood the test of time.”

“So how does it work?” Fourth asked.

Cece said, “After the first person bids, you either raise by offering to do more of what they bid or picking something higher on the list. If I bid a handjob, the next person must bid two handjobs or something higher, like a blowjob. If you don’t, you’re out.”

“We go round and round until everyone drops out of the bidding,” Bee said. “Then, it’s time for the winning bidder to do what she said. If she does it, she wins the brooch. If she fails, she pays a penalty of our choosing. This can be pretty much anything the other bidders want.”

Del said, “You could have the loser kiss your ass or loan you a dress or other object you’ve been coveting.”

“Or I could have you suck Paul’s dick,” Bee said, “because I just put on lipstick or he wants to cum on my face and I’m afraid he’ll get cum in my just-washed hair.”

“Bee, you’re kidding, right?”

Bee shook her head from side to side.

Fourth’s brow furled and her lips pursed as she thought over the consequences of losing. Then, she announced, “I’m in.”

“Who’s your partner?” Del asked.

“Cal.”

“Get him and meet us in fifteen minutes at the pond where we went swimming as kids. We’ll settle this outside under the moon,” Cece said.

Fourth went and found Cal. He was talking to her father.

Mr. July said, “One of the secrets is putting a dry rub on the meat and letting it sit in the refrigerator for 24 hours.”

“Daddy, I see you are imparting some of your secrets of barbecuing to Cal, but I need him.”

“Sure thing. We can continue our conversation another time,” Jedidiah said. He looked at his watch and added, “I need to find your mother.” He gave them a smile and walked off.

“Cal, I need a big favor,” Fourth said. “Will you have sex with me tonight?”

“What?”

“It would mean the world to me.”

The young man’s jaw was practically on the ground. He recovered and said, “I like you too.”

“No. It’s not like that. But I do like you,” Fourth said. “Remember earlier, when I told you my sisters don’t give me any respect. I’m the youngest and they treat me as if I was still a baby.”

He nodded.

“Tonight, for the first time I’m being included in a family ritual and I need a man. A partner. It involves sex. I want to compete. To show them I’m not a kid. And I want to win.”

She looked him in the face. Her eyes flicked back and forth looking deeply in his right eye. Then his left. And back to his right. She was evaluating his reaction to her words.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Tonight, I need you to have sex with me.”

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