THE KNIGHTS OF MAPLE GROVE WAY

No one under the age of fourteen has sex in this story.

THE KNIGHTS OF MAPLE GROVE WAY:

In Big City, a town of many very different neighborhoods, there is a neighborhood that is insular to itself in very special ways. It has its own code and power players. The chief of those are called by the local inhabitants as ‘knights.’ Actually the names were first applied to the different factions by children in the village. Amongst the chaos in the clash of spheres of influence between them, there was a sort of balance of power that prevented it all from collapsing into a violent smoldering ruin, which would be to no one’s advantage. So, there was no ‘round table,’ but there were understandings of allowed areas of influence for each of the groups of knights and a very strong code of enforcements of them.

We find Arl and Bla, the Bash Brothers, having a glass of white wine each in their private office off of Arl’s bedroom.

Arl starts the conversation, “Bro, I have read the message that you received from one of the so-called, Knights of Maple Grove, asking for our help from intruders from out of town trying to barge into their area to take over managing and bleeding it dry. What do you think that we should do about this? Should we intervene? There could be blood shed over this, because the intruders from Tahoma City, are big time for our little part of the world.”

Well, the message as transmitted promises a rich reward for our successfully driving the intruders out. We should probably get at least half of that in advance, since these people are not known for always honoring their obligations.”

“Good idea, maybe we can have Blossom, the lawyer, hold them, hidden somewhere in escrow to keep each side’s nerves intact.”

Bla continues, “Bro do we even want to get involved in this kind of thing? We have other obligations, and we are sitting pretty right now, even with a very minimum amount of business from now on!”

“Yes, that is true, but we have several friends in place that I don’t think that either of us want to see get hurt in any ‘turf war.’ I was thinking of: Marcus; the cab driver, though his exwife Peggy is living in his condo now; Miss Tracey, who takes care of us once in a while and is a dear heart; Marty, the owner/manager of the Mt. Beaver Garden’s Condos and others. People that I just couldn’t abandon if we can do something for the balance of the peoples there. Besides, don’t we have an urban legend reputation to keep up on? That last notable action of ours during the South Hill home invasion, sure got us a lot of additional business, you know.”

“Yes, it did. And I don’t ever want to get to the point where we become worthless in the fight against the truly evil people of our fair city. We do so much that others, just can’t do.”

“Well, then, let’s get the area maps out and take a good look at the situation there.”

So, they moved to their large table and opened up maps of that area of the city. The Maple Grove neighborhood community involved mostly just one mile plus stretch of old highway 99 that was now citified. It had few single homes or open spaces except for the far northern part, and was lined up with one condo village or apartment complex after another. One estimate was that two point five thousand people live on this short stretch of roadway on one side or the other. And the ‘Mount Beaver Garden’s Condo’ complex was situated right in the middle of the west side in the midst of it all.

They noted from their intelligence file that the population of the village, as it is styled by its inhabitants, is very multi-racial and aged from babies to retired adults. It has a small Mexican restaurant that puts out some of the best of that variety of food to be found in the city. And the owners and personnel running were very cordial. At the far norther end was a major road that leads west to the airport and east to first the main north and south freeway of the Western U.S. and then past some monster sized stores and not that far further to the main shopping mall of the area.

The southern end of the local road leads to a small commercial village with a 7-11, several restaurants, an abandoned major grocery market and some small retail shops.

So, since there was one main road and a limited number of entrances and exits from this neighborhood, it is a natural for local control.

And then the Bash Brothers reviewed what was known as to the local talent, as it were. They came to be called the ‘knights’, by the young of the village, out of some respect for their places in the local hierarchy, it is guessed. Though the individuals thus identified never openly refer to themselves by these titles, they know whom is whom by the various designations and use them to their advantages, too.

The designations were identified by colors, not of racial of social distinctions, but indicating their main functions in the village.

The WHITE KNIGHTS: included clergy, social workers and local do-gooder individuals who were busy trying to ‘save’ individuals from what they viewed as dangerous lives. And some of the lives were indeed dangerous, especially when you mixed drugs and prostitution. But, the plain fact of the matter was that many of those in those kinds of lives didn’t want any part of being ‘saved.’ They just wanted to be left alone to cope with their situations as well as could be expected.

The BLACK KNIGHTS: included the leaders who provided the area and to the expanded city: drugs, sex, guns, alcohol and violence in measured amounts. Although, most in the area deplored the violence when manifested, under their breaths they often remarked, “He/she really deserved that.” The disappearance of Tyrone the Pimp was one such occurrence, even though urban legend indicated that it was the Bash Brothers who carried this out, and they didn’t live in the village.

The GRAY KNIGHTS, of which the writer of this story is one: are the ‘cities of refuge’ for the inhabitants of the village that get into trouble with others there, and their safety is guaranteed for a maximum of two weeks, while tempers cooled down and arrangements for reconciliations could be arranged. This helped to avoid extreme actions that would later be very much regretted.

The BLUE KNIGHTS: are the local representatives of law enforcement, of which usually at least two live in the front corner ground level condos of Marty Jensen’s complex. Also, because of the reputation of the area; elements of the county sheriff’s office, which had jurisdiction over the northern half of the roadway; and the local detachment of the STATERS (highway patrol), whose local office was up by the airport were known to wander through at times, and also to back-up local officers when called for. They were often recipients of boxes of donuts to amuse themselves with during slack times in the crime business from mysterious sources that everyone actual knew who they were.

The GREEN KNIGHTS: are the local people who in addition to the city’s equipment helped to keep things neat and clean in the village, maintained the single youth playground (which was an enforced neutral zone for the use of any person’s children,) and put constant pressure on the city to carry out their responsibilities to the area.

There are some other smaller groups in activity here, but for some reason Arl and Bla couldn’t think of who they were at the time.

So, having a lay of the land in mind they considered what could be done to prevent an attempt at an overthrow and the violence that it would bring to this relatively quiet neighborhood village.

They sent secretive messages to the CHIEF of the city’s police about a pending operation, giving him the details that he would need to know, to Blossom about the escrow account, to out of city professional assets as to their availability, to the Mount Beaver Detective Agency for their possible aid in this, to Marty of the condo complex to be able to access his security system for local observations (and to offer additional help in isolating him and his place from the coming conflict) and to the Knights (Black) as to their pending interest in this case and the necessity of face to face negotiations on the handling of the contract for their work. A contract that would never be in written form, by the way.

The meeting of the Bash Brothers and a delegation from the Black Knights met in a very large Winnebago parked behind the local Masonic meeting hall on their street and the details were worked out to both teams satisfaction and the escrow account was agreed upon because of the general respect that Blossom had in all of the levels of local society, a few privileged ones of whom had shared her bed and more that had benefited from her expert legal services.

While the defenders were gathering their intelligence and assets, to plan their defensive action, which would of course become very aggressively attack based, I digress to my situation in the middle of all of this and had no clue of any of it. Except for my knowledge of the ‘Knights’ and the balanced arrangement between the various factions of influence in our little village to prevent a descent into very violent chaos.

My condo in Marty’s complex was made up of two units melded together. It was like several others in the complex and built that way by the Sully Brothers as designed. I had it designed with five bedrooms, but one of them, the one by the front door was my office and media room, and locked all the time that I wasn’t in it.

By general agreement, I was allowed two ladies (a total of six, plus one in my bed) in each of the bedrooms and them staying for no more than two weeks each, except for one that I designated as my current regular. So, I had a constant turnover, but through repeated visits at least four months apart, I got to know several of them very well. The current identified regular rotated with their level of service to me in mind.

I never took a single penny from any of them, but accepted supplies that they might share (including toilet paper, milk and various cereals) with the all of us. To prevent any of them needlessly staying with me, they had to be ready at any time to yield their ‘round the world ports’ to me upon my request. And any resistance to this, was cause for them to be led up to the front door for their absence from my haven. No dicks besides mine were ever allowed in the condo. And I did not allow any drugs bought or sold in it, either. Whatever went on outside beyond by my door, was their business and I had little interest in it. But, I managed what went on in my condo very closely.

Each of them during their residence with me were required to serve up their bodies to me at least once a week. Since I am a man well into my mature years, I would often combine their efforts to please me to two or three at a time. Or allow them to do repeated B.J.s to make up the difference. Since, most of them were working girls, this was of little problem for them. And they were free to continue their professional work as long as it was kept out of my home.

On a lazy spring night a couple of weeks after the clandestine meeting, I was in bed with three of the girls. One a gorgeous black girl of about eighteen, another white trash kind of white girl about twenty-two (but looking significantly older due to wear and tear of her profession,) and the other an Asian lady of about forty, who was long experienced in pleasing men and very capable in it, too. As we played along, the younger ones, seemed to be taking mental notes of Ida’s abilities, with the further developing of theirs, I would guess.

At one point, I found myself with my legs over the edge of the bottom of the bed, with Ida licking and sucking on my ass; the pretty black girl riding my cock while facing forward so that I could observe her titties bouncing delightfully, and the white girl, with her very small pussy up to my mouth in riding it and losing her female productions down into my waiting mouth. I had just emptied up into Darlin’s pussy vault, when we all could hear ‘all hell break loose outside.”

I told the girls to all get into bed and turned out the lights to not attract attentions to ourselves. Soon a banging came at my door, and when I looked out the kitchen window I could see that it was another dozen or so of the local girls looking for a safe haven in the chaos that had broken out all over the village. So, I opened up the door, refused entry to their boyfriends and closed, locked and barricaded the door to further entry.

The additional girls were of all sizes, ages, racial backgrounds and social statuses. None of them were worried much about who was here, only that they themselves were. Many had sleeping bags with them and several had brought along toilet paper, milk and cereals, due to having been with me before. They were all also in various stages of dress or undress, and were completely uncaring about it, or that it opened them up to my view. Their only concern at that time was to avoid being raped, beat-up or even killed in the chaos outside.

We heard more knocks on the door, but did not answer any more and remained quiet during them. There are several GRAY KNIGHTS like me on the street and I was full up for the night.

My bed was full of whimpering women, so I moved to the living room and scooted the girl in my relaxing chair to sit out the loud sounds coming from outside. She moved into the only space left on my bed and the girls cuddled together there.

One of the girl visitors, one that I didn’t know at the time, had been rebuffed from several beds and so came up to me with a very downtrodden face in the dim available light from outside and begged to be with me. I had a blanket over me, and she was all wet from something that had happened before she arrived and so I asked her to go to the bathroom and towel off and return to me nude and I would make a place for her on my lap. ‘What a perv, I am!’ I thought to myself.

When she returned to me, she moved the blanket and noticed that my shirt was open with no undershirt and my athletic pants were lowered to reveal my uprisen cock. She smiled at the audacity of this and then moved to cuddle herself up to me, knowing full well what was to take place. As she cozied up to me she appeared to be about sixteen years old, it was hard to tell in the dim light, her tits were small, but she had some fur about her groin area, and with her general shape, I thought that that would be a very good guess in any available light.

With her body up to mine and gaining body heat from mine, I began to move my hands about her and she seemed to have no problem with that. As I began to kiss her avidly, I asked her age and she whispered, “Sixteen, and no I am not a virgin,” to that unasked inquiry. She then began to aggressively answer my kisses, with her tongue in my mouth and her hands playing with my cock.

With that invitation, my hands moved to her pussy and began the hoped for lighting up of her womanly desires. I must have been doing it right, because in no more than fifteen minutes she heaved up and directly pounced upon my cock, driving it up to inside of her. I felt a little resistance, but it was fleeting and accompanied by no more outcry from her than would have been normal for a regular fucking of a girl of that sized pussy entrance.

With the stress of what was going on outside our thin walls and fragile glass, we didn’t delay and soon we emptied out together and then she settled in to spend the rest of the night in my arms asleep. When I awoke in the morning, she was gone, and I missed her already.

Later that morning, I got from the two police officers downstairs a brief resume of the events of the previous even and night. This was because for this year I was the president of the Resident’s Council and entitled by that position to know at least the barebones of the disturbing events we all survived.

So, the now off-duty officer filled me in on what was what. Evidently an out of town gang had tried to take over the management of the crime activity in the ‘Village.’ The locals had banded together and with the aid of some in-town assets repelled their invasion attempt. No one had been killed, but the invading girls had had their heads shaven and the guys their dicks bruised up. No worry, the locals didn’t want any ‘honor’ retaliations, so all the injuries were of the nature that they would heal up with no lasting effects.

The locals left notes in the pockets of some of the attempted invaders and told them to stay away or other assets of the locals would cause trouble for them in their own environs. No return message was received, but neither did they nor any other outside entity ever attempted to invade the village again.

One note of interest was that as the local law officers gathered up the evidence and left behind weapons, they found one of them with a finger severed and still in the finger trigger hole. So, they surmised that the locals used batons and large knives, but no guns in the battle on the streets, sparing the local noncombatants from becoming accidental victims of the carnage.

When I got up in the morning I asked about the young provider that had come in with them. They all professed complete ignorance as to whom she was. This left me very puzzled as to what this was about. And I found a little blood evident on my blanket of the previous night.

The CHIEF, in his unofficial mode sent a message to the leading BLACK KNIGHTS and the Bash Brothers, thanking them for cleaning up this situation with so little innocent’s harm. Arl and Bla got their payment, with a bonus and shared some of it with Blossom for her trouble.

And a tensioned peace returned to the village and lasted a long time.

One day as I walked down to the local 7-11 to renew my cell phone plan, I encountered a very old Hispanic lady, being escorted by her granddaughter, I supposed. I just nodded to them and then recognized a particular look to the young woman’s eyes. I just struck me a chord in my memory that I couldn’t call out at the time.

Later that summer, when my rescue mission was empty of people except for me, a girl in a bathing suit came to my door and asked if she could use my bathroom. As she was young, but obviously past sixteen I granted her that usage. As I awaited to let her out of the condo to rejoin whatever activity that she had been interrupted in by a nature’s call, the bathroom door opened and she moved to me with a blanket grabbed from off of my couch and snuggled up naked in my arms. We then with no more need of invitations proceeded to reenact the night of the ATTACK ON THE BLACK NIGHTS OF MAPLE GROVE VILLAGE, immortalized in the local newspapers and in the local urban legends, under the Bash Brothers heading.

I have to say that I enjoyed it just as much as the first time. When we were done with our fun, she advised me that she had joined in the safety at my condo that night, because she had been out walking her dog when the fighting broke out and she saw no clear path back to her grandmother’s where she was living to take care of her granny while finishing her schooling. She said that even though I was misinterpreting what her presence in the condo meant, that she totally enjoyed our little tete a tete that night. And that the memory of it flashed up before her eyes, when we encountered each other on the sidewalk with her leading her grandmother on some kind of fabricated excuse to get out of the house for a little bit.

She said that she would like to come back and repeat this, when I was available and the condo was empty of others, to preserve her privacy. I said that that would be fine. And then I wondered how she would know that my rescue center was vacant. It turned out later that her auntie was one of my regulars, and that in addition to her ‘college work’ was now related also to her auntie’s profession sexual work.

I could have cared less and got to see her many times until she married and moved away.

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