He read a girl's intentions. Didn't really try to force himself on her.

Not like others Babette had been up against.

Babette was more comfortable now. Enjoying swimming around leisurely with Rudolph.

Relaxed, Babette's thoughts began to float in a certain direction.

Toward her midsection.

The first envisioned Channing's lips with a stranglehold on her twat.

Twisting her clit into a knot.

Then Channing's face blurred.

And turned into another head.

Another head but with no real face.

One she had seen some other place.

Stabbing up from the leanness of Rudolph Blastitoffs groin as he had dove into the swimming pool behind Babette.

The hard head of his cock she had felt peck against her thighs.

Cockhead wanting to crow.

Grow in size.

Inside her thighs.

Take her up her slit clear to her eyes. Incise her slickly, quickly.

Rudely.

Big dick hungering.

Feeding on her flesh.

That was the good thing about fantasy, Babette thought. She was awash in her twat as she twitched out of the water.

"Guess I better go now, Babette."

"Yeah. Sorry, but I got to get dressed."

"So what did you really think of my tape."

"I think the music's great. But can't make out any of the words you say are so important."

"I'll record another version."

Babette would try to ignore that comment.

"At any rate, Rudolph. You should work on it yourself. It wouldn't fit in with the Boppettes' sound at all"

"I didn't know you had a so-called Boppettes' sound. That's kind of limiting-creatively. Know what I mean?"

"We have to have an identity for the judges to latch onto when we perform at the sate fair."

"Isn't that selling out?"

"It's gaining an audience."

"But if it's false-"

"What's falser than a bunch of kids getting up on a stage and claiming they're great to begin with?"