Undercover Rose 81 (Edited)

By Cindy and Walt

On the drive home I tried to sort it out, and maybe make sense of it all.  I hadn’t taken the time in the morning, since Billy Joe was gone when I awoke.  I didn’t want to think at that moment.  I just wanted to get the hell away from there before the police came to charge me with Statutory rape or some such thing.  Hell Billy was no more than sixteen at best.  More likely he was even less, but I didn’t know for sure.  What I did know is that he was a minor.  I had known that when I allowed him in my bed.  I also knew better than to do it, but I had.

It could have been worse.  I could have still been an undercover operative for the, what was then called, the SBI.  It was called the Investigation Division of the Federal Police by the time I screwed Billy.  I know it is all confusing but it is even more complicated for me, than it is for the general public.

I hadn’t done my final money count, but I expected to go home with my tail between my legs.  Fortunately I wasn’t dependent on the shows for a living.  I ran the studio at a real loss, but I intended to always show a small profit on paper.  Juggling those books was going to be a bitch, but having a real job would be an even bigger bitch. 

By the time I reached home I had decided that a change was not in order.  For me, the status quo was going to be my life for a while at least.  I intended just to enjoy it.  I swore to myself that enjoying it did not include sex with minors ever again.  It also did not include a continuation of my recent cloistered lifestyle either.  It was time to get back out there and live again.  Maybe with a slow start, but I intended to put myself out there nonetheless.

Since I left Gulfport for home right after breakfast, I was in Mossberg shortly after the Sunday Church goers lunch hour.  I stopped at the Dairy Queen for only a slightly late lunch.  I had expected that the new Manager would have heard of me.  Not good things mind you, but to my great surprise he didn’t even look at me twice.  I was almost disappointed.

Back when I had a body by Dr. Frankenstein, it was unusual for men not to notice me.  In those days I was just a thirty year old drab housewife type.  Best case scenario, replace housewife with crazy artist.  Either way men didn’t notice me nearly as often. 

It hadn’t bothered me before.  On that particular day I missed the attention.  My first step was to recognize it as a problem.  Then I had to decide whether to fix the problem or not.  Finally I had to decide on a course of action.  

To do that I had to research it.  The first thing I did was an honest, factual appraisal of my body.  When I departed on the cruise I had been five feet six inches tall and one hundred and twenty pounds.

After my six months on Devils Island, I was still five feet six inches but I weighed well under one hundred pounds.  The day I stepped out of that plane, I looked like a poster girl for Dachau.

I hardly gained any weight at all, until the doctors poisoned me to kill the last of the parasitic worms inside my intestinal tract.  I had gained ten pounds in the three months since the end of my eating for a dozen, and getting nothing out of it.


I was within single digits of a hundred pounds when I left for Gulfport Miss.  So I was still tall and skinny with small boobs.  But before I made the decision to have new implants done, I needed to get my weight back up close to normal.

In the meantime I wanted to look better.  My first decision was not to screw around with my hair.  I could see that a little make up would do wonders for me.  At least I wouldn’t be mistaken for a guy, if I wore make up and maybe a push up bra. 

All that was worked out on Sunday afternoon.  So I went to the web to do my basic research.  First I learned all about liquid foundation most often used to hide lines and wrinkles.  I took a look at my face in the harsh light of a modeling light.  My eyes and forehead were free of wrinkles at the moment.  I had the sagging skin typical of large quick weight loss.  The best advice I could find was to gain a minimum of ten more pounds then reassess the sags. 

So the foundation wasn’t really an issue yet.  Light eye makeup.  Light meaning not enough to look like a teenage girl on the way to her first prom.  Still I did need something, but it should be very subdued.  Also I needed a light mascara for when I went out at night.  Otherwise a little shaping of my eyebrows would make me look more feminine.  Fortunately I had a hell of a tan from my days on the Island.  I would have to worry about looking washed out for a while.

So I decided that I needed lip gloss, a little powder and an eyeliner.  I could also get away with the no makeup thing, if I made my body a little less androgynous.  That meant more skinny jeans and tight tops.  If I really wanted to look feminine it would be soft white tops and no bra, which I did a lot before my cruise.  Of course none of those tops fit any more. 

I had gone from a 36d to a 32a.  It was too large a change to wear my old clothes and not have it look obvious. 

From the size 10 top to a size 2 was a huge change.  I knew what I had to do, so I planned on spending all day Monday on the chore.  My jeans size was down to a size 0.  Believe me I was no model, it just was how I had to have them so they wouldn’t bag on me.

I chose the styles that fit much differently than before.  I was interested in a good fit because I no longer had a body that demanded attention no matter what I wore.  For the first time, since I was pulled out of prison by the SBI, I was going to have to work at getting noticed.

After the research was finished it was time for dinner.  Rather than go out I microwaved a frozen dish of mac & cheese.  That and a bunch of reheated frozen hush puppies comprised my dinner.  I did go out long enough to purchase a chocolate milk shake.  I could get addicted to them easily enough. 

I found myself at home drinking the milkshake and roaming around a chat room again.  It was strange because I had always refused to chat with people claiming to be teenagers.  Some said they were eighteen or nineteen but some claimed to be younger.  Without any conscious decision I began accepting messages from them.

I found that I liked leading the supposedly young men to erotic conversations.  I had always acted somewhat submissive, but I was able to adapt to the leadership role easily enough. 

One thing about masturbation is that it is all in your own head, as well as in your own hands of course.  It didn’t matter who was on the other end of the line so to speak.  I found a young man that first night who wanted to take control.  It was his thing to push grown women around.  Probably he was a mama’s boy, I thought.  That didn’t matter it was an erotic situation and one guaranteed to make me orgasm.  The first time it was simply a small orgasm which was comforting and even comfortable.

The next morning after my walk, I went to Williamston.  I went directly from the Dairy Queen to the Walmart store without a stop of any kind in between.  I bought a bunch of new knit tops all in size 2 and jeans in size 0.  I tried on one of each and found the tops uncomfortably tight.  I had no choice but to buy them since anything larger made me look like a bag lady.  I also bought a bicycle before I left the building.  A two wheeler would seem to work just fine since there was no ice on the roads in Mossberg, or in that whole area for that matter.

The truck was filled with clothes and a boxed bicycle.  The salesman was good enough to explain what would be needed to get the bicycle on the road.  The hardware department in the store had all the tools I needed so I stopped to purchase them all. 

When I arrived in Mossberg shortly after twelve, I stopped at the Dairy Queen for a burger fries and a milk shake.  I knew that it would take awhile for me to begin filling those jeans and probably add a little to the top as well.  It probably wouldn’t change my cup size, but I might put on a layer of fat along my rib cage.  I could go from a 32a to maybe a 34a.  It wasn’t that it would necessarily be an improvement, but I sure as hell looked too skinny.  I guessed that it wouldn’t hurt anything.  Nobody was going to doubt my cover story for the missing months.  I truly did look like a cancer survivor. 

I still didn’t have a hell of a lot of appetite, but it was at least twice as good as before the poisoning of the worms.  I for sure had a hell of a lot more energy. 

Because of the energy I went to work on the bike assembly.  It was late that afternoon when I got the bicycle together.  I had sprung for the extra hundred to get a three speed bike.  All the gears were inside the rear wheel.  Because of that I didn’t have to mess with a dérailleur.  I was happy about that.

I fixed a frozen dinner, then went to sit in front of the computer with a cup of black coffee.  I read the news then went to bed early.

I was up at 5 AM, even if I did have to set the alarm on my cell phone.  I drank a cup of coffee while I stared out the second story window which faced the small main street.  I looked into the empty building across the street and thought I should do something with that building.  I would have, if I had any idea what the building could be used for when I finished.

After the coffee I went down to pull the bike from the storage shed.  I climbed on it then got off to adjust the seat.  Once I had what I thought to be a to be the right height, I took off for the Dairy Queen.  It was less than five miles, so I used my knowledge of the area to add five more miles to the ride out.  When I got there I was tired and a little winded.  I picked up the bacon and egg biscuit from the counter then went to sit at the table by the window. 

At barely 6 AM there were no other customers.  Before I finished my biscuit that changed.  They drifted in mostly in pairs, either a pair of construction workers or a man and a woman.  By seven the place had started to fill up so I left. 

I rode straight back to the downtown studio/apartment building.  When I arrived I started to work on a couple of prints I wanted to make from the show in Gulfport.  There had been a beautiful older southern belle type woman who had sat for me.  She bought a ten dollar sketch, but I wanted to make a generic portrait of her, one that would take some time.  One that I would also have charged one hundred dollars at least.  Most likely it would remain a sample which was fine with me.

There were two more drawings I wanted to make as well.  One was of an old wrinkled fisherman.  The other was of a fishing boat with a lot of details.  The problem with the drawings was that I couldn’t stand working on them more for than an hour at a time.  I needed a half hour break at least every hour.  I knew the lack of concentration was partly because I needed more than one thing at a time to occupy my crazy sick brain.

Lest you think that I could will things to happen, I have to explain that I had looked at the building across the street every morning since my return from paradise.  Most mornings I felt a desire to renovate the building.  I probably felt that way to improve my view more than anything else.

I knew from Miss Sadie that it had been a hardware store.  It had catered to local farmers to be more specific.  Most of the items had been farm related back in the day when there were few tractors.  It had stocked mostly hand tools and fifty pound bags of seed.  It had a faded sign that simply read farm supplies.  I looked at it once again while I took a break from the drawings.  Every time I saw it I wondered what it could be turned into that would be successful in the small town.

My days were remarkable only in their similarities.  I rode my bike early in the morning, worked on my drawing on and off till dinner.  In the evening I either went to the diner or I heated a frozen dinner.  If I ate at home I added a dinner roll from the refrigerator.  In the evenings I read the news on Internet news sites.  After that I either watched the day before TV show or I spent time on the adult sites.

Then it all started over again at 5 AM, that is, except for my first Friday after the Gulfport show.  That Friday I spend sorting packing and preparing for another festival.  The festival had not been planned in advance.  I decided on the spur of the moment the morning of the show’s check in that if there was a space available, I would attend the festival on Bobby Joe’s list.  Since I was able to secure a space, I spent the morning in preparation for it.

After making those preparations, I was able to leave for a small college town in Georgia.  It was a four and a half hour drive to the older motel on the list of recommended motel provided by the show’s organizer.  He might have gotten a kick back, but the motel wasn’t too expensive.  It was going to run a hundred dollars for the two nights.  It was a one day show and I doubted that I could make the hundred let alone any profit what with gas and food thrown in.

To be absolutely honest, I came to see if what I felt for Bobby Joe and his son had lasted the week.  I had decided that it was most likely a mild infatuation.  It was most likely doomed from the start.  I got into town on Friday in time to go by the school and take some shots.  I planned to make some quick drawing that same night.  That was if I didn’t hook up with one or both of the Joes.  Yes I admit I had thought of them both in some configuration.  That thought made me a little nervous.

I arrived at the motel after shooting the bell and an older dormitory.  It was the oldest building on campus.  The bell sat in the yard in front of the entrance to the residence hall.  They were totally different but equal in visual interest.

After checking in I went in search of the fairgrounds and then to the attached campground.  It was no more than a field with porta johns along the edge.  I was glad that I had chosen to skip the campground.  Getting laid was one thing but doing it in the dirt was quite another.  I saw only one big truck in the campground, so I guessed that it would be Bobby Joe’s.  The problem was that it belonged to Bobby Joe’s wife as well.  Odds were fifty fifty she was with the truck.

I might as well take a look since I was already there, I thought.  I drove up and parked near the truck.  I looked around to see the woman who had run the hot dog cart at the last show.  I didn’t figure it was a good idea to ask her the location of Bobby or Billy, so I drove to the exhibit area which was a short distance away.  There would be no overnight security according to the organizer who sat guarding his domain until dark.  He would be headed home at sundown he informed me.  I decided that my setup time was minimal enough to wait until the next morning.

It was a little upsetting to be so close to the two Joes and not let them know I had arrived.  Oh well such is life, I thought.  Before returning to the motel I found a drive in restaurant with WiFi.  I checked my email and found a note from Billy.

‘Hi, send me the name of your motel.’  The email also gave me his cell number.  I sent him a text with the name and address of the motel.  On the way to the motel, I drove through the window service area of a Mcdonald’s.  I picked up two coffees for my thermos, then drove straight to the motel to wait.

Nobody showed for three hours.  When the door opened father and son were standing on the walk outside my room.  They both pushed past me muscling their way into the room.  It had never entered my mind to bar their entrance, so I ignored their tactics.

“So you guys ready for the show?” I asked.

“You want to talk business, or you want to fuck.  I have to get back,” Bobby said.

I could see Billy cringe like he had been slapped in the face.  I tried to decide how I felt about it since I couldn’t muster the courage to send them on their way.  So I lowered my eyes and sat on the bed. 

“That’s more like it.  Now let’s see what you got.  Take off your clothes,” Bobby Joe demanded.

I removed the knit top and the skinny jeans.  I even removed my panties with the jeans.  I sat back on the bed naked.  I also watched while Bobby undressed.  His penis was larger than Billy’s, as I expected it to be. 

“Billy, watch and see how it’s done,” Bobby said with a smile.  I was embarrassed but I was even more excited.  He moved to the edge of the bed with his penis almost even with my mouth.  I knew what I was supposed to do, so I did it.  I took his penis in my mouth and began to suck gently on it.  He allowed me to nurse on his cock for a few minutes then he began to pump my face.  I felt him touch the back of my throat.  I relaxed as I had been taught by Sam.  I felt his cock slip down my throat. 

He moved in and out of my throat as he spoke to Billy.  “My god her mouth feels good.  She is throat fucking me.”  He pulled his cock out of my mouth and lifted me to my feet.  He turned me around and pushed me onto the bed in the classic dog style position.  It seemed to take no time at all.  He didn’t seem to miss a beat before I felt him inside my body.  I whined and moaned which turned them both on. 

Billy had his smaller cock out.  I gasped “Come here please, come here.”  I was looking at him so there was no question who I meant.  He stood and walked to the bed.  I had to twist to reach it but I took his cock in my mouth.  I sucked on it violently as his father drove in and out of me. 

Bobby lasted only a second longer than his father did.  Probably because he was alerted by his father shouting, “I’m cumming you whore fuck me.”

I pushed back at him with a mouth full of his son’s cum.  I kept moving on his softening penis while sucking furiously on Billy’s wilting cock.  They both had lost their erections leaving me empty and frustrated. 

“Billy you stay here with the whore while I go home.  You can come to the show tomorrow with her.  Rest up and fuck her good, so she won’t go looking for anyone else,” Bobby Joe demanded.

He left while Billy Joe sat on the bed and I lay with my head in his lap.  I touched and stroked his cock while his dad walked from the room and closed the door. 

After he had gone Billy said, “I’m sorry for the way he talks to you.  He talks to all women like that.  Don’t worry I won’ let him hurt you.”

I didn’t answer I just took his penis into my mouth and nursed gently on it.  I sucked it gently for several minutes before it came to life.  When his cock was fully erect I pushed him back on the bed then lowered myself onto it.  I rocked gently on it until he was moaning and almost a scream came from me as I massaged my clit while I fucked him.  He came inside me and I came all over him.  I fell on top of him exhausted.  He had to lift and push me off. 

It took several minutes before I could move into a position which allowed both of us to sleep.  He pressed his withered cock against my ass and fell asleep.  I followed moments later.

Billy stayed asleep when I woke at 5 AM.  We had been asleep for eight hours and I was ready to walk.  He looked at me as I dressed but didn’t make a move.  He just went back to sleep.  I left the room for my walk.

As I left an older woman came from the room next door.  “Well it sounded like you at least had a good time.”

“Actually I did,” I said smiling as I walked toward the parking lot.  I looked at my watch and saw that it was 5:10.  I walked until 6 AM, then turned and headed back.  My plan was to shower dress, then take Billy and head to breakfast.  It would be a push but we could make it by the 7 AM start time if we had the food from the drive through window of the biscuit factory.

The best laid plans etc.  Billy was all ready to fuck me again when I walked in the door.  He pushed me gently across the bed then got on top of me.  I was hot and sweating and not well lubricated so it hurt some.  But I lubed up quickly and even though I didn’t orgasm I enjoyed the sexy feeling of his cum inside me.

Because of the morning workout we were a little late getting to the sign in table. 


About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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14 Responses to Undercover Rose 81 (Edited)

  1. jackballs57 says:

    Yep there will be trouble on the horizon for sure. thanks for the Saturday morning read.

  2. The Mage says:

    Papa Joe has no idea what danger he is in! I’ll bet that R. has at least two of the Sylvia dagers withher at all times. Though I’m sorry to see R. Getting herself in the muck again this was a good read. Please keep up your writing.

  3. bigguy323 says:

    I can’t say i like this version of our girl. Prison and Poison have taken a lot out of her.

  4. jackballs57 says:

    I’m sure that Cindy has a lot of exciting twist and curves coming our way. I think is called diversionary tactics to throw you off guard. lol

  5. cindypress says:

    Jack are you politely calling me Twisted lol

  6. jackballs57 says:

    To break the cold thoughts you have this morning I posted another chapter to my story this morning.

  7. Magi says:

    Rose, you gotta slap the shit out of the father the next time he gets nasty with you.
    Like most bullies, if you teach him a lesson they fold and I’ll bet the sex will even be better.

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