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That '70s Show: Only In The '70s Part 1 (M/f,bmail)
by Sloan ([email protected])

"DUMBASS!" screamed Red Forman's aggravated voice from the rear employee
parking lot of the Pricemart he managed, and in the stockroom his son Eric
looked up with wide eyes.

'What now? Dad has been raging all day, but he sounds beyond mad now.' He
slowly stood and psyched himself up for the coming firestorm. He was pretty
sure he hadn't done anything recently that would tempt his father's easily
triggered atomic-bomb temper, but you never could tell with him.

"ERIC!" his manic patriarch howled again, jarring him from his concentration,
"Get your ASS out here, right NOW!" that blew his weak composure out the
window and he booted it out of the storage section, through the aft of the
value store, and out into the lot.

The bright noon-day sun beat down on the steaming tarmac, and Eric huffed in
the blistering heat, sweat already beading on his smooth forehead. But he
might as well have been a snowman to his Dad's current temperature, he looked
like he was about to go super-nova. He was standing five meters away in his
private parking space.

His empty private parking space. 'Oh, crap,' thought Eric to himself,
'where's his new car?!'

Red caught sight of the son he was so constantly disappointed in, and pointed
an accusing finger at him, "What did you do with it, boy? It was here less
than an hour ago, I know I checked. Tell the truth, I'll know if you're
lying, and if you do, I'm going to ram my boot up yer ass so far you'll taste
shoe polish!"

Eric raised his hands in defense, waived them in fear, all thoughts of a
sarcastic response melting away under the man's intense anger. Mom is always
warning me not to shoot my mouth off at him, and if there ever was a time to
follow her advice, this is it. He took a deep breath, let it out, "It wasn't
me, I swear. I don't even have a key, I only have the one to the Vista
Cruiser. And that's the truth!" he fished in his Pricemart smock and pulled
out his own car keys, waved them in the air.

The red-jacketed man stared back at him for a long moment, eyes blazing. But
by Eric's tone he truly felt the boy was telling the truth. He fumed, veins
standing out on his bald head like coiled twine, "That's just great. Real
swell, now I have to call the police." He thundered past Eric, back into the
store, mumbling grimly under his breath, "When I get my hands on the asshole
who stole it..."

Eric watched him go, and shook his head, he really felt sorry for whoever
stole Red Forman's car, he really did. 'Oh man,' he thought, 'who would be
that stupid? What kind of moron would be foolish enough to steal from Red?
Oh man...'

* * *

"Wow, Eric's Dad's new car is great!" said Micheal Kelso in excitement as he
sat behind the wheel of the shiny new Cordoba.

His van had broken down two hours ago, in his own driveway, he couldn't
believe it, and on the day when the Bee Gees's 8-track was coming out. No
way was he missing that, no way! He had gone to Eric Forman's place, but
nobody was there, and he had searched for Eric's keys to his Vista Cruiser.
They were nowhere to be found, but he had spotted Red's spare set to his new
Chrysler Cordoba. He had hesitated for a second, then grabbed them up, what
could possibly go wrong? He knew the car would be at the nearby Pricemart,
he would go there, borrow it for an hour, then return it, none the wiser.

In Kelso's mind it was the perfect crime. Albeit this was Kelso's mind.

He was rounding the turnpike, radio blaring The Who's 'Won't Get Fooled
Again,' singing along and pounding the steering wheel, grinning his trademark
shit-eating grin from ear to ear. 'This was going to be great! Gonna get me
the 8-track, and then it's par-tee time!'

Unbeknownst to him, less than two miles ahead, his foreign friend Fez was
tooling along the side of the highway, singing to himself and pounding back
pixie-stix. Kelso rounded a turn, humming along to the music, "Oh yeah, this
is gonna be amazing! When I play that track for Jackie, she's gonna go
crazy. She gets all horny when the Bee Gees are playing, and then I'm gonna
do her hard!" his eyes flicked downwards, spying a copper sparkle on the
floor mats, "Cool, a penny! This day gets better and better!" he ducked his
head down and reached for it.

The shiny blue car, bought with Red Forman's first bonus from the Pricemart,
lurched onto the other side of the highway, and into the path of an oncoming
Mac truck. HOOOOONNNNNKKKK!!!! blared the truck, and down the road Fez
perked up his ears and looked up, caught sight of the weaving Cordoba.

His dark eyes went wide, "Oh my! That is Eric Forman's Papa's new car! Oh
no!"

Michael's head reappeared above the wheel, and he held up his treasure,
"Cool! It's shiny and new! This is really my lucky day-HOLY CRAP!!!!!!!!"
he saw the nearing truck, screamed, and spun the steering wheel like a
madman.

The car whipped out of the way at the last second, shot off the road and
plowed through a fence. Kelso howled in a high girlie-voice as the Chrysler
thundered through tall grass, then emerged in a wide clearing "COWS!" a herd
of white milkers loomed dead ahead, he swung the wheel and the car fishtailed
crazily.

It whipped around and around, missed the dully staring cows, and splashed
into a nearby muddy pond. The last of it's momentum nosed it down in the
thick mud, and Kelso scrambled out of the window, splashed through the
thick sludge, and emerged on the shore, breathing hard. He stared at his
handi-work moronicly, as the rear tires continued to spin. Then he swore
loudly, "Oh man! I left my penny in there!" his shoulders slumped and he
dejectedly tromped away, hands in his pockets.

From the concealment of the nearby tall grass, Fez watched him go. An evil
grin formed on his lips, and in his sex-deprived mind wheels began to turn...

* * *

"In a cow patch? Hah! That's rich!" Steven Hyde slapped his knee in
amusement, "The wheels were still spinning when the cops found it? That's
the funniest thing I've ever heard!"

The gang was gathered in the Forman's basement, and Eric had just regaled
them all with the much demanded tale of the previous afternoon's events. Not
all found it funny though. While Hyde, Eric and Jackie were laughing, Donna
was glaring.

"Eric, your Dad worked hard for the bonus that paid for that car." she
snapped, and the thin guy's eyes whipped to hers, she fixed him with a
disapproving scowl, "If it was your car, do you think he would be laughing?"

"Oh yeah, you bet he would." replied her former boyfriend snarlkily, and he
deepened his voice in his best 'Red' impression, "Hey, Dumbass, you dunked
your car! Were you driving with your ass again? Dumbass!"

Hyde lost it at that, and fell off of the ratty couch, clutching his stomach.
Donna gave up and decided to leave. She hopped off the couch, tugging Jackie
after her, "Come on, this basement is too stupid right now."

They headed for the door, and Fez stared after their swaying asses, comparing
Donna's hot mature one to Jackie's girlish one, trying to decide which he
liked better. 'Jackie you fool,' he thought lustily to himself, he always
went for the young plump ones. 'And maybe, just maybe, if I play my carrots
right, I might get to grab that sweet, sweet caboose, and very soon.' Then
the two girls were gone, the basement door slammed after them.

Fez stood and helped Hyde to his feet, the guy was still chuckling madly. He
managed to get control of himself, "Oh man Forman, any idea who took it?"

Eric shook his head, "None. But when they do figure it out, Dad's going to
kill them, whoever they are. He's nuts, he's over the edge, it will be a
massacre! Hey, let's see if there's any more beer upstairs."

The two of them disappeared up the steps, the door closed, leaving Fez and
Kelso alone in the basement. Fez dropped back to the couch, pulled out a
pixie-stix and tore it open with his teeth. He offered it to Micheal who was
perched on the edge of the couch, chewing fitfully on his thumb-nail, staring
straight ahead, eyes hollow and haunted.

"Would you like some sugar?" Fez asked in his thick accent.

Kelso didn't seem to hear him, only kept staring into nothing. Fez dangled
the candy before his eyes, "Kel-so, helloooo Kelso. Would you like some
stix?" his sing-song voice finally broke through the teen's fouge.

He started, whipped around and glared at the other, batted the white paper
stick away, "No Fez. I don't want any of your gay-powder. Leave me alone."
he returned to his staring.

Fez leaned back and stuck out his bottom lip, a mock-sorrowful look on his
round face, "Poor Kelso, he no want some pixie-stix. Is it because he is the
one who stole Mr. Forman's new car and crashed it?"

Kelso leaped to his feet and spun around, face ashen, eyes wide in shock,
"Uhhh, w-what are you t-talking about, Fez? That's c-crazy talk!"

Fez grinned evily, "Oh, Kelso. Stupid, stupid Kelso. Fez knows all. He was
out for a walk, coming back from the candy store, and he saw you almost get
hit by that big truck, then drive into the pasture. He followed you, and
heard you complain about loosing a penny."

Micheal gaped, this was not good, he was screwed for sure. Fez was
inherently honest, he would make him fess up. He swallowed hard,
anticipating a beating from Red, jail time, huge repair bills, the works.
This was horrible.

Fez looked up at him and smiled, "Kelso, my good, good friend, all is not
lost."

Hope sprung in the tall guy's head, "It isn't?"

The boy with the bronzed skin nodded, "That is right. Fez need not tell your
dirty, dirty secret. If you do something for me."

Kelso was elated, "Anything, anything, you name it, and I'll do it! You want
it, I'll give it to you! What's mine is yours, buddy!"

Fez clapped his hands in glee, "How good! All Fez wants is...Jackie..."

The other guy gaped, "Jackie? My girlfriend? What do you mean?"

The foreign guy's dark eyes twinkled, and he dug in his pocket and produced a
baggy of grey powder, "I want sweet Jackie for tonight. You do this, and I
forget everything. We have a deal?"

Kelso stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to do, and not wanting
anybody else, especially Fez, to do his girl. But the alternative was worse.
His shoulders slumped and he fell into a chair, "You win Fez. What do you
have in mind?"

The two began to plan...

* * *

Later that evening, next door to the Forman's abode, in the tacky home of
the Pinciotti's, the brutish Bob dozed loudly on the couch, a discarded bag
of chips on his expansive gut. There came a click in the lock of the front
door, and Red Forman let himself in. He stared in disgust at his obnoxious
neighbor, then looked to the stairs as muted movement could be heard on the
second floor of the dirty house. He mounted the steps, prowled up them
silently.

Tall, buxom redheaded Donna was in her room, dressed in a long grey Packers
football shirt and white rolled socks, singing along softly to 'Let It Ride'
by the Bachman Turner Overdrive, which played softly on her transistor radio.
Her back was to the door of her bedroom, and Red slipped silently up behind
her and slid a tawny arm around her stomach. She gasped, and her
unrestrained full breasts heaved beneath the thin fabric of her jersey,
rubbing against Mr. Forman's arm. He almost forgot why he was here. Almost.

"Donna, I want to ask you something." he growled in his roguish voice.

She shivered against him, "What are you doing in my house? How did you get
in?" she demanded, to nervous to pull away from him, her shoulder-blades
pressed against his broad chest.

"Bob gave me a key, Neighborhood Watch and all that." he replied blandly,
then got to the point, "Do you know anything about my Cordoba vanishing? The
reason I ask is because I, and only I, know you have a history of sticky
fingers."

Her eyes went wider, she had prayed he wouldn't ever bring that up again.
Money had been tight for her family over the last four or five months, and
she had resorted to shoplifting. But she had made the mistake of trying it
at Red Forman's Pricemart, and he had caught her 'red'-handed. He hadn't
turned her in, but let her go, saying they would talk about it later. She
had hoped, no prayed, he had forgotten all about it. Obviously this was no
longer the case.

She swallowed hard, then answered him honestly, "No, Mr. Forman, I don't know
anything. I promise."

But he hardly heard her, his nose was buried in her silky hair, breathing in
her scent. He pulled back, "What? What did you say? Speak up, Damnit!"

She cringed against him, a mistake, as she only served to push her ass
against his crotch. She felt a solidness there that pulsed against her soft
flesh, and her stomach lurched in fear, even though a hot pulse slid through
her own groin. 'Oh, my god! Why am I getting so turned on here,' Donna
demanded of herself, and licked her lips involuntarily. Red felt it too, he
had often stared at this hippy, heavily breasted young girl and had dark,
sweaty thoughts. And he had been amazed when Eric had managed to land her,
but the Dumbass never had the stones to keep her. A choice piece of ass like
this should be held onto at all costs, he thought with a shark grin, and
without realizing it, he slid a hand up and cupped her left breast.

Donna gasped again, as he squeezed her full, firm mound through the jersey.
His fingers dug in and twisted in a delicious way that made her moist between
her legs, and her large, rock-hard nipple popped out between his rough
digits. He tweaked it with his thumb and she yelped in pleasure. Red knew
the difference between pain and pleasure, he had dealt both in equal measure
in his time, and gave in to his darkest desires. He pulled Donna to him with
one hand, while the other dropped onto her rounded hip, slid down onto her
bare leg, then slowly started to ascend under her nightshirt.

"Mr. Forman, what are you doing?" she demanded, as he reached her panties and
started to tug them down.

He pushed her red hair away from her ear with his chin, leaned in so close
his lips brushed her lobe, "You know I could have turned you in for stealing
at my store, and told everyone. You're reputation would have been ruined,
and any chances of you going to a good college would be wiped out. You owe
me." he began to slide the briefs down, inch by sultry inch.

She squirmed against his tight grip, but he was way too strong for her, "Mr.
Forman, please, you can't do this, it's n-not right. Oh, my god..." his lips
had descended to her neck and was biting at her, in an almost feral way, it
was driving her mad.

"Stop being a moron, I can tell you like this." he mumbled between bites, she
was grunting now, moving her hips against him, it was so hot, he had her
pantys almost at knee-level now, "You owe me, and I'm cashing in the chip
tonight. So just take it, you little slut. Take it hard-core, cause that's
how I'm gonna give it to you." and with a grunt he gripped her underwear
tightly and tore them from her legs, tossed the ruined cloth over his
shoulder.

Donna yelped, and he spun her around toward her desk, bent her over it. As
he flipped up her shirt and unbuckled his pants, she grabbed the edge for
leverage. She gave in and laid her head on it's side on the smooth wood
surface of the writing table. Red had his pants down, and his long, wide
shaft was out, pulsating and shinning with anticipation of this
teen-temptress. He regarded her exposed ass with delight, it was big without
being fat, smooth as a baby's, and her cunt peaked out between her legs,
glistening wetly in the poor light of the lone lightbulb that hung above
them. 'Oh, yeah, this was going to be good, so good.' It had been way too
ong since he had had hot young pussy.

He grabbed her hips strongly and levered himself into position, the head of
his cock poking between her muscled thighs. It rubbed slightly against
Donna's engorged pussy-lips, and she jerked as if stung, the current that cut
through her mid-section was unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Red grinned, "All right, Donna, get ready for a hard fucking unlike anything
my Dumbass son could ever be capable of." and without another word he thrust
forward, tearing into her tight vagina all the way to the hilt.

Donna bit down hard on her lip to keep from screaming out in pain, as Red
stroked into her in firm, smooth movements. His torso smacked against her
raised as over and over, and his wide cock was tearing at her tender insides.
A thin trickle of blood slid from her cunt, dripped onto the pock-marked
would of her desk. But there was something exhilarating, something very
wrong about getting shafted by her ex-boyfriend's dad. Just thinking about
it blew her mind, and she started to move slightly, her his matching his
rhythm.

"Mmmm, yeah, that's better." growled Red, and he slid his left hand off of
her wide hip and onto her buttock, slapped it smartly, "You are so tight,
it's been a long time since I had a tight pussy." and he smacked her again,
a little harder.

Donna reacted this time, jerking against him, but he still wasn't getting the
response he was looking for. So with a scowl he pulled out. He stepped back
and kicked his trousers off the rest of he way. She raised her head and
looked around, relieved the near torture was over, "So, are we even, Mr.
Forman? Because, if we are, then-" but the words froze in her mouth at the
sight of his cock, then he turned and abruptly left the room.

It was sooo big, so wide, compared to the only other real one she had seen,
Eric's. 'That was in me, I don't believe it.' She straightened up and
pulled her nightshirt back down over naked ass, moved toward the door. She
was suddenly frightened Red was going to try for more, she hadn't wanted to
think about it, but this was kind of like rape, she needed to get out of
here, get down-stairs and wake her Dad. She grabbed the doorknob and pulled
her bedroom door wide, but was too late.

Red stood framed in the purplish-red glow of her lava lamp, naked from the
waist down, and holding a metal tin, "Oh, no you don't, this ain't over yet."
he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the room, kicking the door closed
behind him.

He propelled her backwards, threw the tin on the bed, he had no more need of
the Vaseline, he had oiled himself up real good. The backs of Donna's knees
pressed up against the edge of the bedspread, for a moment she thought he was
going to force her onto her back, but instead he slid his arms around her
waist, up her back, pulled her too him. Suddenly he was kissing her deeply,
his hard wet lips now moist, tugging at hers. She opened her mouth to try to
breath and his tongue slid in, curled around hers. Her arms were raised,
wanting to push against him, but she could feel the solid muscle of his honed
maturity, and knew she stood no chance in a battle of raw power. And he
kissed real good on top of that.

He was like an animal, ravaging her mouth, his splayed hands rubbing her
shoulder-blades and spine, one palm coursing down past the small of her pack,
onto her ass, the other followed. He grabbed on tight and suddenly she was
in the air, he was so strong, he raised her up till her tits were level with
his mouth. Then he was sucking the left one through her shirt, roving over
it's curved sphere, searching, searching, it felt so good, found her nipple,
clamped on and began to suck. His saliva soaked through the cotton, his
fingers were digging hard into her ass, her head lulled back at the feelings
that were shooting through her body.

Then he lowered her back to her feet, she felt dizzy, and didn't even object
as he tugged the jersey up and off her, tossed it aside. He pulled off his
own shirt, then stared down at her splendid form, she was better than his
most erotic dream, all curves and rosy skin, her long red hair spilling over
her shoulders and whisking over her large, pendulum breasts. They were
perfectly round, with large brown pads framing solid nipples like pink pencil
erasers.

"Enough site-seeing." he said, seeing that her eyes had locked downwards on
his johnson, he wanted this little tart moaning, screaming, begging him to
fuck her faster and faster.

And he knew just the thing to get her started. He palmed her backwards onto
her elbows, then grabbed her knees and slid her backwards across the bed.
He knelt, grabbed her hips, pulled her pussy toward him, lowered his head.
Donna's eyes bugged from their sockets, "No, Mr. Forman, what are
you-uhhhhh..." his lips and met hers and strange, disabling feeling swept
through her, from the tips of her pussy lips, up to the roots of her hair.

Against her will she fell back on the bed, arms over the sides. He twisted
his head, dexterously pushing through the folds of rapidly moistening hot
flesh and she was overwhelmed. Then his tongue slid inside her, burrowing
deep, she felt it and couldn't believe it, 'This can't be happening, Red
Forman is giving me, Donna Pinciotti, head, and it's amazing. Oh, my god,
what the fuck, oh, oh,' "Oh! Oh! Oh, fuck, Mr. Forman!" she was calling out
now, he had quickened his speed, tongue forking in and out, up and down.

She was bucking against him, and he held on tight, grinding into her, then
he found her g-spot, that firm embedded bud, and his rough tongue smacked
against it. That was it for Donna, she came hard and fast, "Oh, yes, yes,
YES! Fuck, me, oh god, it feels soooo good!" she came and came, waves of
pleasure coursing through her in a way she had never imagined possible.

Her back arched and her fingers were sliding onto her stomach, up onto her
heaving tits, grabbed onto them, it felt so good! Red suddenly rose, face
dripping with her juices. He slid her back, her head bumping against the
headboard, then he dropped atop her, grabbed a leg and lifted it up into the
air. She was soaking now, open wider and ready, and his cock slid easily
inside. She gasped, long and hard, her head snapping back and forth, still
in the throes of her orgasm, and then he was thrusting into her, with one
arm wrapped around her vertical leg.

His right hand braced him on the bed, and he started kissing her hard and
forcefully, her hands slid up and grasped his face. He was pounding hard
into her, she was well lubricated now, and his mouth left hers, dropped to
her throat, then slid to her tits. Her fingers found his back and began to
claw at him, while she moaned deep and animal-like, from the back of her
gasping throat. Red began to moan as well, as she thrust her hips against
his, he was moving faster and faster, harder and quicker, 'It felt so good,'
he thought desperately, better then anything he had ever experienced. The
smell of her cum mixed with Vaseline coursed through her nostrils, like a
strange incense or drug.

"Oh Donna, oh you dirty little slut!" he growled, burying his head in her
hair, "Take it hard, that's it, feel my cock splitting you!" he rutted into
her, a dynamo now, feeling his cock harden even more, his balls tightened.

She was being pounded against the bed, he was wailing into her like a beast,
she was yelling and moaning, crying out dirty words like a five-dollar whore,
"You bastard, yes, ride me, ride me Red, fuck me like a little whore. I'm
your slut! Fuuuuuccckk MEEEEEE! OOOHHHH!!!! YESSSSSS!!!!! DADDDDY
PLEASE!!!!" and she came and came, over and over, he yelled, deep and feral,
then blasted his load into her hot, tight, wet cunt, pumping into her,
filling her with his cum, even as he pounded harder and faster.

Donna was gone, there was only the orgasms, washing over her in a hot, tepid
amber shower, she had stopped speaking, her jaw opened and closed, no words
came out, no sound. Then she was falling, tumbling over and over, it was too
much for her young body and she blacked out. Red collapsed atop her, gasping
in oxygen, his chest heaving hard. They lay there like that, wrapped in each
other, for more than an hour.

Red's eyes fluttered open, and with a start he remembered where he was. He
carefully but quickly disengaged from the younger girl, but she didn't wake.
He covered her with a sheet, dressed in silence, then prowled back
down-stairs. Bob was still asleep on the couch, he had noticed nothing, and
Red easily let himself out. A minute later he was back in his kitchen,
lounging in a metal chair, bare feet up on the dinette-set table, frosty beer
in hand. He took a deep swig and grinned broadly, I should have my car
stolen more often...

* * *

Not far away, but getting more distant by the second...

"Micheal, where are you taking me?" demanded Jackie, as Kelso's old van
bounced along the dark country road.

Kelso had woken her up at nearly midnight, tapping on the glass of her
bedroom window. At first she had been annoyed at his intrusion, but he had
produced flowers, daisy's her favorite, and told her he had something to show
her. She had objected immediately, she was tired, but then he told her it
was outside of town. Intrigued, she had scrambled into cut-offs, platform
shoes and a Donna Karen tube top, then climbed down after him. Now they were
racing through the outskirts of town, down a dirt road, and she was getting
bored.

He glanced over at her nervously, licking his lips, "Uh, it's a surprise,
don't worry, you'll see. Hey, you thirsty?" he reached over and popped the
glove compartment, dug out a beer.

It was hot in the van, she had to admit, and grabbed up the bottle. She held
it up and her eyes narrowed, "This isn't really cold, why do you have only
one?"

He panicked, eyes flashed back and forth, 'This isn't going to work, Damn
Fez! Calm down, calm down, remember you are the smartest person you know,
okay, okay, use that brain,' "Uhhh, they were giving them away at the gas
station, and I only got enough gas for one. That reminds me, can I borrow
five bucks?"

She easily removed the cap, and frowned deeper, her pouty lips twisting, "And
I think it's been opened. Micheal Kelso, have you drunk from this?"

"I had to make sure if wasn't flat for you. I only tasted it." he supplied,
and she smiled, reached over and kissed his cheek.

"Oh Micheal, you are so thoughtful!" then she sat back in her bucket seat,
tipped the long neck to her lips and started gulping it down.

'Oh yeah, oh yeah, drink it baby,' Kelso thought excitedly as she chugged,
'I'm almost home free!' She finished, wiped her mouth with the back of her
hand, then suddenly burped. She blushed to her roots and glanced at him
guiltily, "Oh Micheal, I don't know what's come over me. Swear you won't
tell anybody I burped in your van this evening."

He nodded violently, "No problem, no problem! I guarantee nobody will ever
know anything about tonight. Especially you. It's between me and Fez,
that's it." 'DAMNIT! I've done it now!'

But Jackie's eyes had already glazed over, the tainted ale already hard at
work, "Whuh? What did you sssay, Micheal? Fez?" she hung her head and
rubbed her temples, "Yug, I feel dizzy." then she slumped forward onto her
lap and was silent.

"Yes! Fez's stuff worked like a charm!" he cheered, and pushed the
accelerator to the floor, he was now on a deadline.

Fez looked up from his preparations on the lip of the watertower, at the
sound of the van pulling up. He looked down to see Kelso leap out, run
around to the other side, open the passenger side door. A minute later he
had ascended the rickety ladder to the top and was pitching the splayed
Jackie off his shoulder and onto the blanket Fez had laid out. He
straightened up, and stared into the shorter boy's lecherous grin. He was
ogling Jackie's nymph-like form, as she lay prone on her back, arms thrown
back. Suddenly he was having reservations.

"Uh, Fez, maybe this isn't a good idea." he stammered, wringing his hands,
"What if she remembers?"

Fez scowled at him, "That powder is from my home country, it always works
perfectly. The beautiful Jackie will wake up soon and be very horny, but
still confused. And in the morning she will remember nothing. Now, go! Or
I will tell Eric's Daddy everything, and you will be the Dumbass instead of
Eric. Be back in an hour, don't be late!"

Kelso nodded and dived back down the ladder. A moment later the van roared
to life and he sped away. Fez looked down at the murmuring girl, her long
raven hair flowing out from her head. Finally! He dropped to his knees and
reached for her...

To be continued in part 2...

    

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