Date: Tue, 24 Apr 2012 07:16:02 -0700 (PDT) From: Macout Mann Subject: AGE OF WANTONNESS 3 This is a sexually oriented fantasy set in the future. The author does not condone the activities depicted. He only describes what might occur, given the premises upon which the story is based. Skittish readers should use caution. Minors should move on. Sexual activity is explicitly detailed. Please take time to comment. macoutmann@yahoo.com. Your suggestions help to make the story better. AGE OF WANTONNESS by Macout Mann Chapter 3 Mayor Butch Weatherby inherited "the Pilgrim problem" from his predecessor. In fact, the mayor's criticism of the way the problem was being handled was one of the main reasons he was elected. But like a lot of other things, the solution appeared easier from the outside, than it does now from within. Ole Town had become a run down section of the city. It had thrived during the historical renovation craze that had gripped the country many decades ago. It still is a national historic district, but was largely abandoned during the recession of 2021. Several years ago the Pilgrims, a religious sect led by Brother Bryan Jennings, began buying up Ole Town properties and essentially established a town within the city, one having a moral code totally opposite from the prevailing mores. Weatherby's predecessor tried to stop the onslaught; but, defended by the American Civil Liberties Union, the Pilgrims won every court battle and now are the mayor's biggest headache. The Pilgrims are against alcohol, drugs, sex, gambling, everything that's fun. The women wear no makeup, dress in plain cotton, floor-length grey dresses, and wear bonnets that look like an Old Dutch Cleanser ad. The men are always clean-shaven, dress summer and winter in long-sleeved chambray shirts, black denim jeans, and probably, people think, old-fashioned boxer underwear. The ACLU used to support the most liberal of causes. Funny that they championed the Pilgrims. Lawyers say that they are for whoever is being put upon. "Now the fucking Pilgrims are refusing to collect sales taxes at their stores or to pay property taxes," the mayor complains. "They say they won't let their money support evil. "Bad enough they have all these fucking demonstrations." Chris Martin, his studly administrative assistant, commiserates. "Well, we ought to at least be able to make `em pay goddamned taxes," he says. "I'd like to stick my dick straight up Bryan Jennings' dry ass," Weatherby says. He's never been the most genteel guy in town. Not that there's much gentility anywhere. "That I'd like to see," the younger man laughs. "Shit! I'd do it. When I was a kid back on the farm, a couple of the hands used to cornhole me that way. It sure as hell aint no fun. "But better yet. We could make him watch some of our boys fuck some of his faithful virgins. I'll bet they'd like it after they'd taken one or two dicks." "That I'd volunteer to do," Chris chortled. "It's funny as hell," the mayor said. "Back in the 1900s, there were a bunch of cults, where the leader was fucking all his followers and preaching that that's what god wanted. And now we can fuck as much as we want, and we got a cult that wants to stop us from having fun." A knock on the door. Chris opens it and the city attorney comes in. "Not interrupting anything, am I?" he asks. "Nah," the mayor says, "we were just talking about how we might fuck Jennings." "That's what I'm here about," the lawyer answers. "We've been going over the statutes and the case law, and if they don't remit sales taxes for three consecutive months, we can padlock their businesses without notice. And their church tax exemption no longer applies to property tax. That law became effective last year. They didn't remit last year, and if they don't do it for a second year, we can claim ownership of their church buildings." "Motherfuck!" the mayor cries. "Let's do it." He claws his crotch with abandon. "I'm getting a hardon just thinking about it!" Chris comes over and cups the mayor. "Don't want that to go to waste, do we?" he says. "Well, unfortunately, I've still got work to do," the attorney says. He leaves the other two alone. "I need your ass, boy," Butch whispers. Chris gets a tube of lube from the mayor's side drawer. This time he strips completely and leans over the desk. "Let me feel your dick, Mr. Mayor." Butch lubes his dick and Chris' ass. He holds the lad's hips as he drives his prong home, then runs his hands up and down Chris' chest and abs, as he slowly slips up and down, in and out of his assistant's chute. "God, that feels so good," Chris murmurs. "Make it last. Make it last." Butch manages to nibble his partner's ear. He squeezes both nipples, then grabs Chris' hard tool, massaging it to orgasm at the same moment that he dumps his load into the pulsing hole that is offering him so much pleasure. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," the mayor moans. "You can have my ass whenever you want it," the other man says. He puts his clothes back on and goes to his own office to check messages, before they call it a day. Copyright 2012 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.