My cousin Billy, my uncle Freddie's son,, was down here in Miami Beach last weekend and of course the two of us got together to reminisce and catch up on each others lives. When we were boys we often spent summers together at the old Scouries farm and homestead up in South Carolina but for the last ten years or so we've been pretty much out of touch.

It was great to see him again and catch up to what was happening in his life. We talked as we sipped cocktails at an outdoor terrace on Lincoln Road while watching the beautiful people go by.

Authors Important Notice To Readers

This story describes techniques that Cousin Billy described to me for finding and seducing virgins.

Before starting it I'd like to state categorically that I, Cousin Billy, Gabby and every other employee of ScouriesWorld believe that every person should respect the laws on the 'Legal Age of Sexual Consent' of whatever jurisdiction they live in.

This age of course varies from State to State and Country to Country. It is up to every citizen to know the laws of his country and to obey them. If you don't like them then you should work to change them, but never break them.

In the following story (set in America) we discuss (and provide strategies for seducing) female virgins who are 18 years old or older only.

Billy SCOURIES Guide to Virgins

"What do ya think of those two?" I asked my cousin Billy as I pointed my finger at two twenty-something year old Latina beauties who were sashaying up Lincoln Road towards us. Girls to die for.

"Not my type Jim," he answered nonchalantly, then he took a sip of his drink as they passed in front of us.

"You haven't gone homo on me living up there in rural Georgia have you?" I asked, the kidding tone clear in my voice. I'd seen Billy in action enough times growing up to know what got his cock going.

"FUUUUUCK YOU," he spat out in an exaggerated southern drawl. "It's not me who's living down here on Fag Beach," he added in a loud voice that I hoped hadn't carried to our waiter. If it had that was the last drink we were going to get here.

"Don't tell me you don't like those pretty little butts?" I demanded as we both watched the two perfect derrieres swishing away from us.

"I've given up that type," he answered.

"What fucking type? Latinas? Girls?"

"I'm a specialist now Jimmy," he said smugly.

"In what? Bullshit?" I demanded.

"Virgins."

"Huh? Virgins? Fuck, there isn't a virgin over fourteen in that whole state of yours," I guffawed.

"Fuck you," he laughed, then added, "I'm serious."

"Ginnie Mae Morgan wasn't no virgin cuz," I answered, bringing up a name from our past.

"You can still remember that night Jimmy?" he asked wistfully. It was a night neither of us would ever forget! Two horny eighteen year old boys romping in bed with the thirty year old, mother of two, sexy wife of the farmer who lived two miles down the road from the Scouries homestead.

"She said I was much better ... bigger," I laughed, trying to pull my cousins chain.

"Mister Sloppy Seconds you mean," he scoffed back. As he talked I suddenly realized how much I'd missed my cousin. We'd had the greatest of times together during those sweltering South Carolina summers. I wondered why we'd drifted apart.

"Shit, you were bad," I finally said as I gave him a slap on the back.

"Mommy always said you Scouries were a bad influence on me. She always tried to stop me from visiting every summer. And she always said you were the worst of a bad lot."

Billy's mom had divorced my Uncle Freddie when he was about five. She got custody but her ex, who soon moved on to a second and then a third wife, got him for one month every summer. Then he'd immediately drop Billy off at the Scouries farm and disappear for a week. Crazy Uncle Freddie!

We sat silently for a couple of minutes, both of us smiling like fools as we each thought of some of the wild pranks we'd played as boys and teens.

"So what's with this virgins bullshit anyway?" I finally asked.

"I've sworn off every female cept those that still got their hymens," my cousin answered.

"You can't be getting much then," I said, unable to remember the last time I'd seen one of those things.

"My first time she was a virgin ... hell, of course we both were," he said nostalgically. "Only had two more during all the time I was up at State. And shit, one of them, that crazy little broad from Memphis didn't even warn me. Thought I'd killed her when she started shrieking. How many have you burst Jimmy?"

"Virgins?" Seeing his nod I answered, "Two or three depending how you're counting. One swore she was a virgin, but told me she'd broke it riding a horse."

"Can't count her buddy. No blood, no glory."

"Two then," I said, accepting his verdict. "So what made you decide to become a hymen hunter anyway?"

"The day I graduated from the U. Daddy convinced me."

"Uncle Freddy?" I asked, wondering what the hell my lunatic uncle had to do with it.

"Both mom and dad were there when they gave me my sheepskin up at the U. They didn't talk of course, in fact they sat on opposite sides of the hall. I went to dinner with mom and sis and everyone from that side of the family but then met dad later at his hotel."

"And," I encouraged.

"We were in the bar, drinking longnecks ... me in my gown ... then he told me he a graduation gift for me. But after about ten minutes no gift had appeared. 'So, where is it', I finally asked him after we'd drained the beers. You know what he answered?" my cousin asked.

I just shook my head no while wondering what the fuck this had to do with his newly revealed interest in virgins.

"He looks at me and said, 'she's in my room son'. In your room I asked him. You know daddy Jimmy, everything's always a fucking mystery. I'm sitting there thinking dad's got me a fucking prostitute for my graduation present."

"Sounds just like him Billy," I said with a smile on my lips as I shook my head from side to side in disbelief.

"You shoulda been there to hear his next line Jimmy. 'Pretty little farmer's daughter, virgin from Mississippi son', he says. I spat a mouthful of beer halfway across the room. Then he explained that since his fourth divorce he'd given up on marriage and had decided that he'd only sleep with virgins from that point on."

"Uncle Freddy said that?"

"Yeah, then he told me he'd found this little girl on one of his sales trips and was just about ready to do the deed when he realized she'd be a perfect graduation gift for me. Then somehow he talked her into it."

"Your father convinced some farmers daughter from rural Mississippi to give up her virginity to some guy she'd never met?" I asked incredulously.

"Daddy can spin a good line Jimmy," Billy answered, but then added, "I think maybe a little money changed hands too."

"Still," I said aloud while acknowledging to myself that if anyone could have done it it was my uncle.

"Then he told me that I couldn't have her if she didn't like me. That it was up to me to prove I'd learned something in all the years I'd wasted at this big, fancy university I'd gone to. If I couldn't convince her he'd do her he threatened."

"You didn't do it, did you?" I asked while shaking my head, knowing of course he had.

"Fucking right I did. First thing the old man had given me in fifteen years."

"How old was she?" I asked, afraid his father might have found him some sixteen year old.

"Oh don't worry, she was of age. That was the first thing I checked. Just about to graduate high school. She was just the prettiest little gal Jimmy. No make-up, milky white skin, round and plump in all the right places. Remember that girl Cassie when we were kids? Looked just like her."

I remembered Cassie! "And you had sex with her?"

"With daddy watching ... giving me advice the whole time ... giving us both advice."

"Jeezus," I mumbled, trying to imagine the scene.

"Then when I'd finished he climbed aboard. There I am sitting against the headboard of the bed, my cock glistening with her blood and my cum, watching daddy pounding in for his sloppy seconds."

"The poor girl," I muttered.

"Hell, she enjoyed it. The three of us stayed in bed for thirty-six hours straight. Turns out she was one of those nymphomaniacs you're always hearing about but never running into."

"You idiots can't be related to me," I said as I continued to shake my head.

"We drove her back home to Mississippi two days later ... I think all three of us were pretty happy with the transaction. And you know, Daddy and I talked non stop for those couple of days we were together. More talking than we'd done all our lives. He asked me what I was going to do. Where I was going to live. Did I want kids. What did I want to do with my life. Talked about broads. Shit, by time we dropped her outside Tupelo he'd convinced me. Convinced me about the whole virgin thing."

"He did?"

"Look around you Jimmy," Billy said as he pointed to the passing crowd on Lincoln Road. "Sure they're good looking but where have they been lately? How much candy they got up their noses? STD's? AIDS? Who fucking knows?"

"But..."

"No buts about it Jimmy. How could anything be better than helping one of our beautiful, intelligent coeds move from innocence to womanhood. To use your experience to help make her transition to a sexually fulfilled woman a joyous event that will ensure she has future filled with..."

"You're full of shit," I said, knowing if I didn't interrupt him he might wax poetic on the subject for hours. The guy could talk.

"And you know what Jimmy?" he asked, ignoring my interruption. "Once you've decided your main pastime in life is going to be curing virgins then you've got to live in a place where there are a lot of them available."

"Good thinking cuz," I said, then took a good chug of my beer.

"Legal age virgins of course," he added.

"That's an even better point," I agreed. "Are there any eighteen year old virgins left? And where in the wild kingdom does this endangered species still survive in the twenty-first century anyway?"

"Not on South Beach that's for sure," my cousin answered. "That's why I decided to move to Athens ten years ago."

"But Christ Billy, Georgia?"

"Well Jimmy you were always the smart one in school, where would you look for them?"

"Do we know how many of them still roam unfettered and free in America," I countered with a grin.

"Twenty-nine percent of the American girls are virgins on their eighteenth birthday," he answered authoritatively.

"Where'd you pull that number out of," I asked, having no idea if his figure was even halfway close to the truth.

"When it comes to virgins I know the numbers buddy boy," he said, having read the disbelief in my voice. "I've been studying the subject for near on ten years now."

"Twenty-nine percent ... not very good odds," I said dubiously when he'd finally finished his lecture.

"So why Athens you may ask? Do you happen to know what's in Athens, Georgia cuz?" he asked me.

"A shitty football team?" I answered.

"Ha, ha! It has the University of Georgia sonny boy. And because of the university it just happens that in Athens, Georgia, in the female subset I'm concentrating on, the figure for virginity among eighteen year olds isn't the twenty-nine percent I quoted earlier but happens to be sixty-three percent my boy," he said smugly.

"Subset? Sixty percent of the eighteen year old girls in Athens are virgins?" I asked dubiously.

"Do you know how many freshmen come to Athens every fall Jimmy? Seven thousand," he answered before I could say a word. "And by any chance do you happen to know how many of those seven thousand are women?"

"Half?" I ventured.

"Uhn uh cuz. Try four thousand. Against three thousand men."

"Bull," I said even as I remembered reading articles lately on how females had started to out number men on campuses all across the country.

"And do you have any idea of what percentage of girls going to University are still virgins when they arrive on campus, alone for the first time?"

"More than twenty-nine percent yes?" I answered tentatively.

"Two thirds Jimmy! And that means that every September twenty-five hundred plus virgins move into the city I call home. In fact they move into the student section of the city where I not only live but where my restaurant and bar are located. And these poor innocent young ladies, eager to lose that thin membrane of skin between their legs as soon as possible, instead are faced by a severe shortage of eligible deflowerers."

"Which is where you come in?" I asked my now beaming cousin.