“Here’s the problem my friends,” the mayor was saying. “Here in Texas, we’re living in a cesspool of human tragedy. We have an influx of immigrants, squatters and the homeless. As you all know, they need clothes, food, and shelter. Many children need medical attention. Our community is doing all it can to help, but our resources are limited. In a month or two, we will have spent our entire budget for the year. Most of you have contributed through your church or through the Red Cross but there are limits to your generosity. We need another way to raise revenue to help our neighbors from south of the border.”
Brenda was at the meeting feeling very very depressed by the situation. She was a mother of three teenage girls who were equally sympathetic to the mayor’s appeal for funding. The oldest, Sheila, is nineteen. Angie is seventeen, and the youngest, Tracy, had just turned sixteen a month earlier. The father of the two older girls, Lester, had left the family with an exotic dancer in San Antonio. The father of the youngest, Tracy, was still to be determined.
Tracy was a product of a birthday party Brenda’s sister gave her. There was plenty of ice cream and cake, but more often it was vodka, whiskey, and gin. Brenda was enjoying the celebrating, but so were the men. Almost everyone had celebrated with perhaps a few too many drinks by the time her sister’s husband got more friendly than a traditional brother-in-law. He took Brenda to the kitchen for a little chat. He kissed her. She kissed him back. He held her tits. She fondled his cock. He fucked her. She loved it. This was the first sex she had since her no good husband had left.
A second man caught the lovers while heading to the frig for ice. He took the opportunity to enjoy sloppy seconds. Brenda’s head swirled with alcohol and sex that didn’t end until a third man wished her a happy birthday by having his way with her. The cum of three men was potent. Brenda found herself pregnant with her third child.
At dinner the night following the community meeting with the mayor, Brenda suggested to her girls that they have a picnic fundraiser in their yard. They would serve brats and hamburgers. It would be BYO and guests would bring a dish to pass. They would hire, Hi-Tex, the local band for entertainment.
The girls loved the idea, but how would a picnic raise money? Brenda said they could have a fifty-fifty raffle, half the money to go to the winner; the other half to a refugee kitty.
Angie had the idea of having a kissing booth at a dollar a kiss. She would be the girl in the kissing booth. Angie told them, “I think my best friend, Becky, will help out in the booth.” What she didn’t mention was that Becky liked the boys, the kind that drive muscle cars with a big back seat. She wasn’t the prettiest girl in class, but good looking in an understated way. The understatement was that Becky had a look about her that said, “I’m available.”
Sheila suggested they have a baking contest. All entries would be sold, and the winner’s entry would be auctioned off. “And I think my boyfriend, Bubba, can run a free throw contest like at the carnival. People pay five dollars to enter. The winner gets half the proceeds.”
Tracy said, “But what can I do? Angie has the kissing booth and I don’t know how to bake.”
Brenda said, “Well Tracy, you can really help me out by selling tickets to the fifty-fifty raffle. I can’t do it because I’ll be grilling burgers and brats.”
Everyone in the family was all in and thrilled to be taking part in a real effort to help the folks in need. Their picnic was set for the first Saturday in June.
The weather was perfect. Although it can be hot in southern Texas during June, the day of the picnic was in the low eighties without a cloud in the sky. Everyone they knew was there, and a few they didn’t. But everything wasn’t perfect at the fundraiser. Mr. Bentley complained that Hi-Tex, the band, was too loud. Mrs. Crocker thought her lemon meringue pie should have won in the bake-off. Angie said a few of the boys got too frisky at the kissing booth. It wasn’t a complete surprise that the boys wanted to touch her tits. Angie was the bustiest of Brenda’s three girls, taking after her mom. Even Becky’s dad reached in for a handful.
Meanwhile, Sheila had disappeared. She was with her boyfriend, Bubba, in the hayloft. He wanted what every horny teenage boy wants, and she was objecting. It wasn’t as if he was asking her for sex for the first time. They had been screwing each other since high school. It’s just that this time was different. She said, “Okay, Bubba, I’m as horny as you, but we need money. Today is a fundraiser, if you haven’t forgotten. I’ll fuck you if you’ll donate to our kitty.”
“I see,” he grumbled. “I don’t know about any kitty, but I know about your pussy. How much?”
“Not much, maybe twenty. If you want to go bareback, then it’s thirty.”
“Okay, I’ll give you thirty if you let me cum inside you.”
“It’s a deal,” she agreed. Sheila felt a little like a whore, but it was for a good cause.
With the transaction completed and the kitty/pussy thirty dollars richer, the lovers returned to the party. The band had left and so had most of the guests. There were only a few brats left on the grill and only two buns. Sheila took a brat and said, “Ya know Bubba, for some reason this sausage reminds me of your, ah, I mean of you.”
“He smiled, taking the last bun. He opened it to fill it with a brat and said, “And this bun is a lot like you.” They both laughed at their inside joke.
The next day, Brenda asked her daughters where the extra thirty dollars came from. “Oh,” Sheila answered, “I talked Bubba into making a contribution, only he wanted something in return. We had a little fun in the barn. I should have thought about that idea earlier.” Brenda dropped the subject knowing exactly what her daughter meant by “fun.”
Her oldest two daughters had been sexually active since turning sixteen and on the pill after Sheila got pregnant at seventeen. Sheila was lucky in an unfortunate way. She had a miscarriage just as she was thinking about dropping out of school. In fact, as Brenda was thinking about Sheila’s past situation, it seemed to be a good time for her youngest to get on birth control considering that Tracy had developed sooner than the other two. She had the perfect combination of an angelic innocent face and a woman’s mature body. Tracy was still a virgin, as far as Brenda knew, but knowing her daughters, that was likely to change. She needed to be on the pill, sooner rather than later.
In a sister to sister private conversation with Angie, Sheila admitted how she had bargained for the thirty dollars. Stunned, Angie said, “You only got thirty for doing it?” I would have asked for fifty or maybe a hundred!”
“Look, Angie, Bubba doesn’t earn that much as a mechanic. I thought it was fair.”
Following her revelation to Angie, Sheila began to see more possibilities to the sex for donation idea. What if we take it one step further? she asked herself. After all, Angie was kissing for money and Tracy took money for people gambling. Girls in town are fucking their boyfriends, so asking for donations wasn’t a huge difference. It was my boyfriend, Bubba, paying up, not a stranger. She decided to start with Angie.
The next morning the girls were mucking out the barn when Sheila said, “So Angie, you think you could get your boyfriend to give you a hundred bucks for a fuck?”
“I wouldn’t do it for anything less, if it was for the kitty.”
“I’ll bet he wouldn’t give you that much,” Sheila argued.
“I bet he would. I’ve given him blowjobs, but I only let him fuck me on his birthday. For a hundred, I’d do it any day.”
“Okay, I’ll bet you he won’t go along with it even if you tell him it will go to the refugees.”
“Fine. What do you want to bet?” Angie replied in a surly voice.
“If you win, you can put nude pictures of me on your blog. If I win, I’ll take some nudies of you and post them,” Sheila suggested.
“It’s a deal, but you better not back out,” she replied sharply.
Angie wasn’t a virgin. She had sex with her first boyfriend and was always worried about getting pregnant. Of course, she was on the pill but birth control wasn’t always one hundred percent safe, so she opted for blowjobs with her second boyfriend, Andy. Andy’s eighteenth birthday was the only exception.
After a few weeks, Sheila wondered if the bet had been forgotten. It wasn’t. “Look, Sheila,” Angie said, “you win. Andy wouldn’t go for the hundred. I tried, really I did. I told him it was for a good cause, and he agreed. Finally, he said he could only afford seventy-five. I figured something was better than nothing, so here’s the money for the kitty. Go ahead and take the pictures.”
“I never planned on putting you naked on the Internet,” Sheila admitted. “I just wanted to see if you would do it. Anyway, seventy-five isn’t bad. It’s more than I got. Now I can tell you my plan.”
Angie was all ears when Sheila revealed her idea. “When I suggested using the Internet for our bet, I was thinking of having a secure website for fundraising. The idea is to have our girlfriends ask their boyfriends for donations like we did. I mean they suck a boy’s candy cane all the time and most of them go all the way. So, we have them pledge a certain amount to fuck their boyfriend, then they send the money to a special fund at the bank.”
“How do we know they will send us the money?”
“We don’t but we need to emphasize the importance of helping families that are destitute, those who look to America as their hope, their paradise and savor. Sending pictures of them, especially of the children, should help them emphasize with their plight and go along with it.
“I can set up an account with an Internet bank under a tax free number that I learned from my high school economics teacher. It’s for charitable organizations like ours. Let’s call it the Charitable Refugee Fund. But first, let’s start with a few of our friends.”
But the first week didn’t go well, neither did the second. Their girlfriends didn’t object to fucking their boyfriends and everyone agreed it was the right thing to do. However, some said their boyfriends threatened to break up with them if they had to pay. Others said their boyfriends couldn’t afford it. A few girls thought sex for money made them feel like sluts. Sheila and Angie emphasized that it was for charity. Eventually, a girl by the name of Cynthia handed Angie a fifty dollar bill. “It’s the best I could do,” she said.
The website was bringing in inquiries, mostly from men outside their town. They wanted to meet the girls and were willing to pay. Sheila realized the original plan needed tweaking if they were to attract guys other than boyfriends, so they set up an escrow account.
Angie gave her best friend, Becky, the name of a man from Laredo that was willing to meet any of the girls. Becky agreed to the blind date but not for sex. “Becky, this is about helping people. Can’t you do this just this once?” Angie pleaded. “Go out there and look at their condition. Kids are crying and mothers are trying to comfort their babies. They’re like raccoons scavenging our garbage cans for food. We’ve got to do something.”
Becky finally agreed to meet Mr. Taylor who was more than twice her age. She decided to give him head, but that was all. He donated a hundred dollars for the blow job. His deposit was made ahead of time and held in escrow until the deal was consummated, then transferred to the bank. Mr. Taylor picked her up after school and drove to a secluded park out of town. Becky liked him. He was a nice man, almost like a father figure.
“Take off your top, angel. I want to see your tits. Becky pulled her tank top over her head and unhooked her bra. There wasn’t much to see. Her adolescent mounds were unremarkable except for Becky’s erect nipples that stood out like a dressmaker’s thimble.
Mr, Taylor moved his seat all the way back from the steering wheel before pulling out his dick from a pair of nicely pressed trousers. She licked her lips and went down on him, clamping her lips around his cock, eagerly filling her mouth as if it was a Snickers bar. To her, giving head was not exactly like having sex. Anyway, it was an act of kindness to the migrants and, of course, to Mr. Taylor. Becky didn’t even mind having his fingers play with her pussy, some inside. “God, you’re as wet as Gene Kelly in “Singin’ In the Rain,” he said. She had no idea what he was talking about, but Becky did know what happens when she gets fingered.
Becky was like a bobblehead working his cock, sucking and licking until she could hear his breathing become faster and deeper. Becky knew he was getting close. “Wait!” Mr. Taylor gasped, shoving his pants to below his knees. “I can’t have you dribbling cum on these pants. My wife will get suspicious.” Then he pulled her head between his legs again so that she could continue doing what she was there to do. Five minutes went by, then ten and she was still bobbing. Mr. Taylor wasn’t at all like the boys at school, she thought. It seemed he would never cum.
Every so often she’d look up at him with her innocent puppy eyes watching him drift off into a coma like dream. Finally, she got what she had been expecting and gulped down most of his mammoth load.
He pulled up his trousers and said, “You’re a terrific cock sucker. Can I see you again?”
She smiled at him with a drop or two of cum still on the corner of her mouth and said, “I don’t know, maybe.”
A week later he picked her up at school again. This time, driving at speeds that would rival a NASCAR driver, they headed to a motel on the outskirts of Laredo. “Hey,” she protested. “You only get what we did the last time for a hundred bucks.”
“I donated two hundred for today,” Mr. Taylor explained.
Becky understood what that meant. She asked if he was safe.
“What do you mean am I safe?”
“Do you have a STD?”
“I could ask you the same. Of course I’m clean and hopefully you are too.” He could tell she was okay. She was only a few months past sixteen.
Becky kept Mr. Taylor busy in the hotel room for a couple of hours. At first, it was the traditional horizontal method with her on her back still wearing her pink snickers with him doing pushups between her legs. He finished with ghastly sounding grunts. She was familiar with the sound only his were deeper and gruffer than the boys she knew at school.
At half time he said, “You know Angel. Oh, by the way, what did you say your name was?”
“Becky.”
“Ya know, Becky, I like young pretty girls like you, especially your tiny little cunt. I never dated in high school, so this is like going back to my high school days and having fun with the girls.”
“I see,” she said, but Becky’s quizzical expression told him she really didn’t understand.
He went on to explain, “You know, I wasn’t on the football team. I was in the marching band.” That part she understood.
“Do you have children, sir?”
“Only a daughter about your age.”
“Does she keep you company like I’m doing?”
“How dare you ask, you impertinent child. For god sake, she’s still a girl and my daughter.”
“Take me home, Mr. Taylor. I need to get home.”
“One more time my little nymphet, then we’ll go.” Then he turned her over and said, “You’re going to like it this way, baby,” He had her on all fours, squeezing into her petite wet hole that was not much bigger than a freshly minted quarter. Mr. Taylor drilled her from the back, taking his time with Becky, ferociously banging into her. She squealed and whimpered as if it was her first time, but it was a her way of expressing pleasure, orgasmic pleasures. Like Mr. Taylor said, she liked it that way. Again he finished with gruff growls and howls.
On the way back into town, he turned to her saying, “That was so good young lady. I had forgotten what it felt like to fuck a nice tight pussy like yours. What did you say your name was?”
“Becky, Mr. Taylor. It’s still Becky,” she said sarcastically.
He dropped Becky off not far from her home with a leaky hole that would be hard to explain if her mom noticed.
Mr. Taylor left a comment on their website. “If you want to do good in this world and get a reward for it, contribute to this charity. The girl I laid was young, pretty, and as tight as a pair of Jockey shorts a size too small. She was a great fuck!”
A few more of the more sympathetic high school girls eventually came around and made contributions to the charity but never with their boyfriends. They followed Becky’s lead and had encounters with men making appointments through the website and deposits in the temporary escrow account. Except for Sheila and Angela, most of the girls did it only once, maybe twice like Becky. There was one exception, Pearl. Pearl wasn’t one of their girlfriends but a middle age woman who found their charity drive on the web. She felt it was a great story, a worthy cause, and she wanted to help. Pearl said she liked sex; the men she knew were generous, and she would contribute whenever they made a donation. Every few weeks, Pearl made a direct deposit to the refugee fund.
The Charitable Refugee Fund’s bank balance was now prospering beyond expectations. Sheila and Angela would give families a portion of the fund’s bank balance with the understanding they never reveal where the money was from. The charity ran smoothly except for one hitch, which was when families quarreled if they thought one was getting more than the other. But the girls understood that human nature and greed couldn’t be helped.
All this time, Tracy had been a silent bystander in her half sisters’ enterprise, although she was not unaware of what was going on. One day she let it slip when her mom overheard a phone conversation Tracy was having with a friend.
“I heard what you were saying on the phone, Tracy.” Her mom didn’t seem to be at all upset.
“Mom, did you know about this?”
“Of course, dear. I’ve known about it from the start.”
“You don’t mind that they are getting donations for sex?”
“Well, it would be better if they were babysitting, but no. In this case, sex is rewarding in two ways, first, to benefit those in need and also satisfying a woman’s desires.”
Tracy couldn’t wait to tell her older sisters what their mother had said. “Did you know Mom knows all about what you’ve been doing?” They didn’t.
“Mom,” Angie asked, “why didn’t you tell us you knew?”
“I didn’t want to interfere. You are doing just fine without my help, well, almost without my help.”
“What do you mean, ‘almost’?” Angie asked.
“Do you know a woman by the name of Pearl?”
“Pearl? You are Pearl? You’ve been fucking men for our charity?”
“Let’s not put it so crudely, Angie. I simply had to do something to make sure it was a success.”
“So when are you doing this?”
“It’s really none of your business, Angie, but mostly when I go shopping in Laredo or San Antonio and places in between. Let’s just drop the subject. By the way, your father is coming for a visit on the weekend.”
Once a year, Brenda’s ex, Lester, came to town to visit his two daughters. Well, that was his rationale. What he really expected was to sleep with Brenda.
This time would be different. She explained to him that he had to come up with a donation if he expected her to fuck her. Lester slept on the couch the first night.
“I can’t do this couch thing again, Brenda dear,” Lester said.
“Don’t give me that Brenda dear, shit,” she told him. “I’m not sleeping with you Lester unless you come up with some folding money.”
“I’ll give you a hundred bucks for Tracy. She’s quite the sexy woman now.”
“No, never! A hundred to fuck my little baby? Ridiculous!”
“Okay, two hundred.”
“For a virgin? Hah! You’ve got to be joking.”
“Okay, how much?”
“At least a thousand if she goes along with it, and I doubt she will.”
“Talk to her Brenda. You might be surprised. Who do I write the check to if she agrees?”
“The Charitable Refugee Fund but don’t get your hopes up. She’s still young and innocent.”
Brenda took her youngest daughter aside when everyone was out of the house. “Look, Tracy, I don’t want you to get angry about this, but Lester wants to sleep with you tonight.”
“Sleep with me? You mean he wants me to have sex with him?”
“I told him no, dear, even though he would contribute a thousand dollars to the fund.”
“A thousand? Wow, that’s a lot. Do you think I’m worth that much? The other girls aren’t getting much more than a hundred.”
“Of course you’re worth it, maybe more. I just wanted to make it so expensive that he wouldn’t ask again. Anyway, I thought you ought to know that he’s been gettin’ his dick up over you.”
“That’s a lot of money, Mom. Maybe I should do it. I mean Sheila, Angie and you have been helping our migrant neighbors while I’ve done nothing. What should I do, Mom?”
“It’s up to you, dear. You can use my bedroom, and I’ll give you my sexy negligee if you decide to do it. You’re my size now, so I know they’ll fit perfectly.”
“Oh Mom, maybe I should, but I’m nervous. Does it hurt?”
“A little bit the first time. After that, who knows. Every woman is different. Your sisters don’t seem to mind. In fact, they both seem to enjoy sex as much as me.”
“Okay, I’ll do it. Tell him I’ll do it if he is gentle with me.”
Tracy needed to talk with Sheila and ask her about having sex. “Tracy,” Sheila began, “it’s about as simple as a penis and a vagina, his penis in your vagina. He gets hard and you get wet, the harder and wetter the better. Have you ever masturbated?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
“We all do, even Mom. The thing is, if you do it right, your pussy should get really wet. That’s when having sex is the best. Make sure that Lester eats your pussy first.”
“What does that mean?”
“You spread your legs, and have him use his mouth to lick and suck your clit. He should finger you at the same time.”
“What do I have to do for him?”
“Give him a blow job. You know about that, right?”
“Sure. I did it for my boyfriend.”
“Don’t forget the balls. Men love having their balls touched. Now don’t be scared. The first time is a little traumatic but believe me, Tracy, you’ll never forget your first time. After that, it gets to be so good.”
For the remainder of the day, Tracy laid in bed imagining what it would be like having sex with Lester. After dinner, Lester spent some time with his daughters until it got dark around ten that evening. Brenda took Tracy into the bedroom trying on several of her sexiest babydolls. Tracy chose the pink one. Lester arrived with beer on his breath. He wasn’t drunk, but hyperventilating about being with this ponytailed virgin.
“Be nice to her, Lester. She’s just a kid,” and Brenda left the bedroom.
“Do you mind if I turn up the light. I like to see the woman I’m with, especially her naked body.”
“I don’t mind,” she said nervously.
The light illuminated her luscious young body. He drooled over her well developed tits and unshaved pussy. Lester told her, “You look great, Tracy. You look just like your mother when we first, ah, you know, when we first had sex. In fact, she was about your age. Now help me out of these jeans.”
Lester unbuckled his belt, unhooking a cowboy buckle the size of a dinner plate. She unzipped his fly, and stepped back sitting on the edge of the bed. His pants dropped to his ankles. He pulled down his bikini briefs and stepped out of them. Tracy sat paralyzed. He was so big, much bigger than her boyfriend. She was sure it would never fit.
“Come over here and give daddy a kiss.” He held his cock so that she understood where he wanted the kiss. Her heart was thumping wildly, but it was time to do something good for the charity.
Tracy slid to her knees. She was tentative at first, licking his shaft and holding his balls like Sheila had said. “Put it in your mouth and suck it,” he commanded. Tracy took him halfway down. He pulled her head into him. She gagged. He kept fucking her mouth until she thought she would suffocate.
“Now it’s your turn, Tracy, to get a kiss,” he said. Lester helped her up and slipped off her pink panties. “Sit on the bed and spread your legs.”
Tracy did as he said and sat on the bed and opened her legs like a lady was told never to do. “No wider. I want a good look at that virgin pussy.” She inched her thighs a little further apart.
Lester kneeled in front of her and pushed her knees as far apart as they would go. His mouth began to eat her out, tasting her pink pearl, and she could feel herself getting wet just like Sheila said she would. “Yum, tasty,” he declared. “Virgin pussy is the best.”
The Lester’s fingers were fat and pudgy as they penetrated her opening. He pushed them all the way in. “Hey, I thought I paid for a virgin. You ain’t no virgin.”
Tracy began to cry. “I am! I’ve never had real sex except sometimes I experiment with my hairbrush,” she protested. “Do you think that’s alright?”
“Sure, but let’s see if you like my cock better than your hairbrush.” He turned Tracy over so that she was half standing and half laying on the bed. Lester felt around for an opening. He found a slit that was gooey wet and slowly entered it. At the halfway point, Tracy began to whimper. It wasn’t painful, only a little uncomfortable, but with a strange new wonderful feeling. Lester went in slowly, methodically. She kept waiting for something to hurt each time he went deeper.
It was a relief when he pulled out. Tracy thought it was over. It wasn’t. It was only the beginning.
Lester flipped her on her back and held her legs over his shoulders when he plugged her again. This time it was a fast plunge, balls deep. Now she felt a twinge of pain. She was getting really fucked, fucked hard with him banging into her. Sex was rougher than she expected. A combination of being energetically skewered by his powerful thrusts and new feelings growing inside her gave Tracy unexpected sensations. “Ahh, ooh, ooh, aah,” she moaned when Lester sent rivers of hot spunk deep into her vagina. She was surprised by his groans and the loud grunt at the end. He hadn’t been a brute with her, but then he hadn’t been that gentle either.
“Oh my god, Lester. I thought you told Mom you would wear a condom. I’m going to get pregnant.”
“No, your mom said it would be okay. She agreed that for a grand, I should get the most for my money.”
“Mom said it was okay because you paid a thousand dollars?” she screamed.
“You’re mom just wanted to make it right for you too. She thought every woman is more satisfied feeling a man pulsing and squirting inside her. Did you like it.?”
“I guess so, but I didn’t think you would do that.”
“So, do you want to try it again? We’ve got all night together.”
“Maybe. My sisters say it’s better the second time.”
The second time was two hours later after both of them had fallen asleep. Lester woke her by tearing off the rest of her sheer negligee and sucking her nipples. It had the desired effect. Along with his cum still inside her and her arousal, he slipped in easily, banging into her relentlessly until she let out gasps and cries. “I’m cumming. I think I’m cumming,” and her fluids flowed as he shot another load into his little Lolita.
She agreed with her sister that the second time was better, probably because she was more relaxed. Probably because she knew what to expect.
At breakfast, Lester said, “My god, Brenda, she’s as tight as you were the first time I fucked you. I always loved being the guy that popped your cherry. You liked it just as much as Tracy.”
“What makes you think you were my first, Lester?”
“Come on, Brenda, wasn’t I?”
She gave him a seductive smile that said “Maybe.”
After Tracy had showered and put on a robe, her mom came into the bedroom and said, “So you liked it.”
“It was okay but Mom, I’m really sore today.”
“Yes, I suppose you would be. Lester said you loved it.”
“Alright, it was better than okay, but why did you let him have sex with me without protection, you know, wearing a condom?”
“It feels better that way, and I knew it wasn’t your time of the month to get pregnant. Tomorrow we’re going to see Dr. Daley to get a prescription for birth control pills.”
It was a bit of a challenge to get Lester to pay up, but threatening him by spreading a rumor that he had sexual relations with his daughter helped him make the donation.
He still owed Brenda alimony but she didn’t hassle him for that until the next time he visited. And he returned several times that year hoping to spend more quality time with Tracy. It didn’t happen because he couldn’t come up with another thousand. “But she isn’t a virgin anymore,” he complained. “I can only afford a couple hundred.”
“You can sleep with me, not Tracy, for the two hundred.”
“How about a hundred?”
They settled on one hundred fifty.
The most successful fundraiser that year was the “Hundred Dollar Lottery.” Boys would pay one hundred dollars for a chance to date one of the girls on the volunteer list. The teachers were thrilled to see their students working on a community service project for the needy. What they didn’t know was that the “date” came with benefits. The lottery earned two thousand dollars the first time. The second time was half as much but still, it was a big success.
Before the year was over, Tracy joined her sisters in the fundraiser by dating an older boy, Melvin, that she met at church. Mel was three years older than Tracy and his parents had a ranch about the size of Lake Superior. Dad owned the bank along with four stores in the county. Mel’s parents had money, so why not use it by donating to the school’s charity.
Tracy spent a lot of time at the ranch with Mel. Only once did Mel’s dad get involved, and that was the night they double teamed her. Not that it was planned, but after skinny dipping in their Olympic size pool, Mel’s dad caught Tracy humping Mel cowgirl. Impulsively and without thinking, desire overtook him and he mounted her from the back. Both man and boy let their pleasures be known while riding their filly. She had just turned seventeen at the time.
There was an overriding consequence of that incident. Tracy mentioned to Mel that the town liked to gossip. In fact, gossiping was second to football as their favorite pass time. She said she wasn’t a gossip, but unexpected things can happen. It was Tracy that suggested that the family make a substantial donation to the Charitable Refugee Fund as a kind of insurance against loose tongues.
“That’s blackmail, Tracy!”
“Yes, but for a very good cause.”
“Would a thousand keep the tongues tied?” Mel asked.
“Oh, Mel, how generous, but I think two thousand would be more secure.”
A check for two grand was quickly deposited in the account. It was the last donation to the charity.
Eventually, the government was forced to change their policies, transporting migrant families to a tent city further to the north. It reminded people of an Indian reservation. The refugee fund was no linger needed since the state and United States Government was now in charge of housing, feeding and clothing them.
FIFTEEN YEARS LATER
Angie was a single mom living at home with her mother Brenda. Tracy taught school in town and Sheila had moved to Dallas with her husband and their two boys. The town had changed little over the years. A few businesses eked out a living, like the hardware store and the family restaurant, but most didn’t. The school district was struggling with a budget crisis. That was until the school secretary opened an envelope from the most successful restaurant franchises in the State of Texas. Inside was a short handwritten note on the company’s letterhead. It read:
To my compassionate friends, Hola Amigos. Please accept this donation to your school discretionary fund as a token of appreciation for saving my family and our friends who emigrated to the United States fifteen years ago. I hope you are all well and as prosperous as we have been through the opportunities that only can be found in the USA.
It was signed, José, Fernández, CEO. Attached was a check for a million dollars.
