Chapter 1

It was New Years, and the big bash I'd paid big bucks to go to was over. We'd raised Hell and danced and had our fancy dinner and a show and the champagne to ring in the New Year and it was two thirty in the morning. Coming out of the city on the main highway, I rounded a corner to find blue lights everywhere. Shit. Well, I'd had a bit, but I'd eaten well and danced my ass off -- and I didn't FEEL impaired, so MAYBE ... It wasn't as if there was anywhere to go -- all three lanes led in one direction, toward the roadblock. The right lane seemed to be moving faster, so I got into it; it wasn't as if being in the left lane, stopped, was going to get us there faster, despite what the majority of idiots in this state -- who all tended to believe they had a God-given right to drive in the fast lane, fast or not -- might believe.

The tactic proved effective; I bet we got to the cops ten minutes ahead of those who stubbornly stayed left. I didn't worry about it because ten minutes one way or the other wasn't going to save me from a DUI if I was over the limit; if I was going to start the new year in the drunk tank, I might as well get there early.

Mona spent the whole time in the front passenger seat worrying, running just north of hysterics; Bonnie spent her time leaning up to rub her shoulders and soothe her. The other two girls were mostly silent. I could see Lucinda in the center seat in the rearview; she was as canned as I was if the cops got serious, since she was an illegal. Grace wasn't even visible; she was doing her thing, blending into the background.

The cop was HUGE and all business -- not a surprise, actually, given the fact that they were tying up the entire road. "License, registration and CAP card, please."

"We haven't done anything!" Mona erupted. She'd had a bit, and she had her own very serious worries about anything that might separate us.

"Shush!" I snapped. Bonnie took the sting out of it by murmuring, "If there is a problem, you'll only make it worse," while rubbing Mona's shoulders.

"Have you been drinking this evening, Mr., ah, Connors?" the cop asked. Mona moaned, but I answered truthfully, "A bit. I think I'm legal, though."

"Would you step out of the car, Sir?" He stepped back a bit.

"Certainly." Mona whined again and Bonnie went, "Shhh!" I got out and stepped away from the car, looking around. This was a major setup; there were big, heated tents on either side of the road and a couple of big trailers. Cars were trickling through -- reasonably quickly, on occasion -- but some were being collected beside the road in a parking area. I wondered if mine was going to appear over there soon. The cop waved me a few feet away from the car and asked, "Will you consent to a breathalyzer test? It will speed things."

"Certainly, officer." I was good or I wasn't...

Then he did something uncharacteristic; he went over and squatted to look in the car windows and asked, "Is this your pre-pack?"

I blinked. "Actually, it is."

The 'cop' turned to me and grinned, uttering that classing George Peppard line, "I love it when a plan comes together!" He hopped up and crossed back to me, murmuring, "If you'll call your concubines out of the car, we'll get this show on the road!"

I got it. This wasn't about my blood alcohol level, after all -- or it might have been if my CAP score wasn't seven point six, but in this case... "Ladies... ?" I beckoned and the doors came open.

Mona was first, dashing to me as fast as her chunky legs could carry her, wringing her hands and crying. I cuddled her to me and whispered, "It's all right -- in fact, it's GREAT, Sweetie. Just settle down..."

Mona was unusual -- and looks had very little to do with it. She was twenty-four and five feet five and daintily built -- above the waist. But she had a big ass and sizeable thighs before everything shrank back down to calves and feet that matched her upper body. She was a brunette with pixie features and a bit of Italian swarthiness and high-riding grapefruit-sized titties -- but that ass kept the boys away.

It didn't keep ME away, however; I tend to find something to appreciate in the majority of women -- but the whole thing STILL wouldn't have happened without the Swarm. You see, when it became more important for a woman to get noticed than it was for her to compete on an equal footing with a man, the 'politically correct' custom of pretending to ignore women in public settings fell into disfavor, to be replaced by something long practiced by Hispanics and Italians -- and perhaps the French -- overt appreciation. The 'wolf whistle' has resumed its place in the male arsenal -- and women were finding reasons to dress naughtily and show off their wares -- reasons directly linked to survival. Suddenly, telling a strange woman she was hot got dimples instead of a glare and 'sex object' wasn't the negatively freighted term it had been only recently.

I met Mona in a grocery store, of all places. She was going over the produce on one of the tables -- yams, I think it was -- while I was hunting Vidalia onions on the other side of the table; I glanced up and my eyeballs rolled down into her soft, round cleavage. She was wearing a pink and white striped tube top under an open hoodie -- which was somewhat modest and offered an opportunity to be more so while displaying her breasts and midriff quite provocatively. I said, "Wow! Nice rack!" -- something that would have been seriously distant from anything resembling politically correct a couple of years before -- and she smiled shyly, blushing, while I watched her nipples stiffen.

"Thank you," she mumbled, regarding me with doe-soft eyes.

"Thank YOU!" I replied, rounding the table, the onions forgotten. "Are they real?" Pretty rude, huh? I've gotten better, but I've never been gifted at romantic conversation. The negative parts were visible before she turned to face me -- her butt made her lean forward a bit and resemble a duck -- but I was past the point where I was going to be concerned by a little extra padding in the fundament; this chick's whole vibe was throwing out the welcome mat, and I was NOT inclined to turn such a thing down!

A note about me, I guess. I'm thirty two, about six feet, one eighty or so, rangy, not muscular looking. I have bland brown hair that's thinning on top embarrassingly and a baby face that requires a moustache to ensure that you realize I'm not a college kid. Otherwise, it's a pretty nondescript face, though, and I don't have perfect shiny white teeth, so I don't smile much. I did some time in the military but got out when it became apparent that my horizons were too limited; now I'm a tech geek -- well, actually, I always was.

The point is, Superman wasn't bearing down upon her from around the produce table -- but Mona's eyes said she liked what she saw, and that was unusual in my experience, to say the least! My next utterance -- "Can I see them?" -- should have killed things, but it didn't; she just looked up at me, wide-eyed, and said, "Uh huh." Later, Mona told me that we were a done deal the moment I put my hand on her bare waist as I asked her that question.

I broke my gaze away from her hypnotic eyes and glanced around; some dried-up looking forty-something bitch was glaring at me, but nobody else seemed to be paying any attention. I slid my hands under the hoodie and under the sides of the tube top, and then lifted it forward and away from the cutest set of brown-capped globes...

My delighted visual and tactile examination was interrupted by a rasped, "Young man! MUST you make a spectacle of yourself in a public place?" Forty-something was glowering at me disgustedly.

I glanced up and down the aisle; there were a couple of teenyboppers in transparent blouses and more than one MILF showing the entire top half of her titties -- down to the nipples. I snarled at the busybody, "I see at least three other sets of tits visible at a glance; just because you can't compete doesn't mean SHE can't!" Ignoring old grouchy, I returned my attention to the chubby pixie in front of me, "Baby, these are SWEET!" They were soft and round and firm and drooped just a bit out of the support of the top -- and they felt wonderful!

Mona played with her fingers then ran her hands down my chest and belly, mumbling, "I'm glad you like them," while looking at my crotch -- which was bulging.

Reluctantly, I wormed my hands back under the top and re-settled it over her breasts. "Got a boyfriend?"

Mona cocked her head, surprised. "No." Her tone said, 'How on Earth would I attract a boy?' as clearly as if she'd said it out loud.

"Want one?"

You'd have thought I'd slapped her. Her face tightened up and her lower lip came out and she said, "You're teasing me. Have you seen my..." She looked behind her.

I stepped in and ran my hands over her stretch pants, taking a big double handful of ass flesh. "Your ass? Yeah, that's a party, I bet..."

"Wh--what?" Mona looked up at me in wonderment.

I was discovering ass -- and lots of it -- more or less for the first time. I slid my hands under the waistband of her stretch pants and her panties and squeezed the soft flesh. "Do you like having it played with? I'm having a ball, here..."

Mona said, "Ummm..." and pressed herself against me and slid her hands up under the sweatshirt I was wearing to rub my back. "Oh, oh, oh..." After a few seconds, she pushed back so she could look up at my eyes and said, "Were you serious?"

"As a heart attack!" I insisted, nodding. From my perspective, it was 'love at first feel... '

"Okay." She took the basket I'd dropped on the table and transferred the contents into the cart she'd been pushing. "Do you like yams?"

"They're okay. I don't cook them."

"You won't have to." She took my right hand and shoved it back down inside her stretch pants and we moved off slowly down the aisle, me moving on her left. That hand didn't leave her ass until we hit the checkout. Thirty minutes later, I sat watching her as she put OUR groceries away in MY cupboards and refrigerator, wearing nothing but her little rubber flip-flops with the pink and yellow sunflower or whatever sprouting up between her cute little toes. She'd followed me home in her drab little Nissan and carried two bags of groceries to my one as we went upstairs -- and when I said something about being unable to wait to see her naked, she'd stripped down to nothing in the entryway, blushing but grinning like a pixie at the look on my face. I had a hard-on that could drive nails in concrete -- but I was waiting for the dream to be over. I figured I would bust a nut all over myself and wake up when the goo hit my belly and chest ... Sure, she was being all domestic -- but I was looking at the puffy lips of her hairy, wet snatch and the crinkle of her anal ring as she bent to put lunchmeat in the meat drawer of my refrigerator ... Shit, I didn't have to FUCK her -- just remembering this would do me while I jerked off until I had blisters...

She looked over her shoulder at me and a little furrow developed between her eyebrows. Turning to face me, she said, "What?"

I blinked. "Nothing."

"Something is wrong."

I sat looking at her, my eyes moving from her cute pixie face to her sweet titties, past her little puffy belly and the thick gathering of curls over her puffy pink snatch, right on down over her knees to her meticulously red-painted toenails. "Not wrong, exactly. Too right. You're the first woman who ever darkened that door," I said, pointing at the entrance to my apartment, "and I'm wondering when I'm gonna wake up and find out that I've been mauling a pillow or something."

She came over and knelt before me, worming her way between my legs until her breasts were on my thighs and looked up at me with big brown eyes and said, "I'm twenty four years old, and you're the first guy outside my family to tell me ANYTHING about me was attractive. And you are ABSOLUTELY the FIRST guy EVER to treat my ass as ANYTHING but a joke or something awful to look at! I promised myself..." She swallowed, choked up. "I promised myself that if some guy ever said anything seriously nice about me -- ESPECIALLY my ass! -- I would offer him whatever he wanted, even if he looked like a Wookie and smelled like old motor oil!"