Day 2

After an hour’s drive the next morning, the troop stopped to radio back home to Appa.

Brigitte was relaxing in a sunny patch of grass with Henry and John while Dylan and Ella dealt with the radio and Izzy stretched against the truck.

John asked quietly, “Is it normal for a girl to mate with two different guys in one night?”

Henry smirked. “It’s normal for Izzy.” He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Brigitte was irritated by her brother’s disrespect. “Well can you blame her?” She demanded. “She’s been trying to get pregnant since before she was my age! It probably breaks her heart every month when she finds out she’s still not pregnant. She’s desperate!”

“She’s desperate for something all right,” Henry said with a grin. John laughed.

Brigitte harrumphed and turned her back on the boys.

“Change of plans,” Dylan announced once they had all gathered back together. “Marley is closed. They’ve got a flu epidemic and they don’t want circuit girls spreading it to other towns. We’re going straight to Woolton instead.”

“Aww! But I wanted to see the hot springs!” Brigitte complained. “Seriously, how much harm can a little flu do?” She wrapped her arms in front of her and pouted like a child.

Ella replied soothingly, “It’s ... probably not really the flu.” She locked her gaze conspicuously on Brigitte’s hips for a moment before meeting her eyes again. Brigitte’s petulance faded away.

The group continued their travels and stopped a short distance from Woolton. Izzy again offered to take care both Henry’s and John’s appetites, but despite not really having any new understanding of men and their erections, Brigitte decided that she was a woman now, and that she would accept the responsibility.

Dylan and Ella once again claimed the truck cabin, and once again obviously wanted to be left alone, so Brigitte leaned John up against the body of the truck on the other side. On her knees, she unbuttoned the adolescent boy’s pants, untied his shorts, and watched his penis grow toward her.

She tried to emulate Izzy’s performance from the day before, bobbing her head forward and back sweeping her lips over the cock’s crown. John didn’t seem to have any complaints but Brigitte quickly regretted her choice of location: the ancient broken asphalt dug into her knees painfully.

After taking a moment to fold her skirt several times under her knees, Brigitte went back to determinedly servicing her companion’s cock. She remembered her tongue, a short while later, and began to experiment with things she could do with it. She didn’t get very far before John gurgled. His cock twitched and filled her mouth with swallow after swallow of his seed.

Brigitte didn’t get up immediately - didn’t dismiss her partner. She watched as the penis changed, going into hibernation until it would be ready again. As it shrunk, the skin rolled forward to protect the crown, like a flower closing at night.

She touched John’s scrotum and felt the weight of his balls. She wished she had thought to inspect them before: she was curious if they shrink after a boy comes, and if so how much.

Brigitte glanced over at Izzy, still sucking on her brother a few yards away. Izzy’s hand was moving back and forth on the part of Henry’s rod outside her mouth. Brigitte had forgotten about that part. She tried handling John’s small worm. There certainly wasn’t enough substance to wrap her whole hand around, but her fingers had no trouble sliding the skin over the soft fleshy core. With each stroke the tiny head emerged from and then retreated into its blanket of foreskin.

Before Brigitte realized it, the strange thing in her hand had grown to its full five inches again. She stopped moving and looked up to John’s face, which at first was tilted toward the sky with its eyes closed. Once he looked back at her, she said, embarrassed, “I’m sorry - I didn’t ... Do I need to do it over again?”

John was quick to answer. “No! It’s okay, I’m good. I’m ready.”

Brigitte stood up and put an hand on the half-naked boy’s shoulder. “I’ll do better next time,” she said, and then walked away.

Servicing John had left Brigitte a little wet between the legs, and watching the springtime copulation of animals on the numerous farms for the rest of the drive gave her no distraction. It was lucky, then, that her delegation checked in with the Woolton Future Generations Council only minutes before the evening’s “line up”.

Along with the circuit girls from other towns, Brigitte and her companions were seated on bleachers in a well-lit courtyard. A line of men were brought before them: fifty or more. Some were the age her uncles, but most were in their teens, or a little beyond. Many were clearly wearing their everyday work clothes, but some had dressed up for the occasion. Three were shirtless.

One man stood out from the rest like a lighthouse on a stormy night: amid a sea of brown and black, this man’s hair was yellow. His skin was noticeably lighter than everyone else’s, too, and he was among the tallest men there. Brigitte guessed him to be twenty years old.