Professional Misconduct

Chapter Four

m/F Hugely endowed Bill Barker (16) reluctantly services hisbuxom 21 year old step-mother, Joan.

The house was almost steamy with the humidity and the ninety degree temperature. Damn! When Will got back from his trip she'd demand that he get an air conditioner. Even one of those little window mounted units would help. Yes. Maybe she'd go get one right now. Gerry, down at Sigma Electric was a friend of Will's. He'd let her have it or credit. Or? Yeah, she'd seen how he looked at her. He'd likely let her have one for a roll in the hay, even if he was Will's friend.

Joan Lewis peeled of her sweat-damp clothes and got into the shower. She looked at the peeling paint on the wall of the little, metal shower stall and pulled the frayed, plastic curtain closed, then turned on the water. The needle-point spray felt good to her and she took the shower head from its bracket to direct the spray all over her body.

Bill heard the sound of the shower as soon as he entered the house. Was his father home? No. It must be Joan. The sounds were different with her and he knew the reason. There was a heavy, pulsating sound, the sound of water under pressure striking the metal wall of the shower stall, and he knew what the bitch was doing. She'd showed him.

The boy could visualize how she looked. She was leaning against the wall, her legs spread apart, and she was directing the pulsating spray from the shower head between her legs. His penis swelled as he remembered how it had felt when she'd done the same to him. Two years ago. When he was only fourteen. He felt sick. Guilt-sick. That was his first time. The first of many.

It was time that Bill got home. She hadn't had him for more than a month and she missed him. Missed his big cock. Will wasn't giving her enough, anyway. Did he have someone else? Was that why he was away? Anyway, he wasn't as good as his son. Not as big and, especially, he didn't last as long. Joan eased off on the pulsations and imagined that her big, young step-son was on his knees, licking her.

Bill saw the half-empty bourbon bottle and knew she'd be after him. He ought to go. Maybe he could stay over at Jimmy's. But what could he give as a reason. His unruly organ bulged. No. It wasn't right. He didn't want to. But the vision of her voluptuous body, the memory of her salacious, obscene demands was weakening his resolve. God, he hated her! But she wanted that. She welcomed it when he became angry and hit her. She was sick. He was sick. His father was sick, too. He'd heard, many times, the loud slaps as his father spanked the buxom woman who was barely half his age. Would the girls on the beach be like that? None of them were big, at least not big in the way his step-mother was. Barbara might, someday, be as big up top, but not for a couple of years. And she would be firm, not soft and smothery like Joan.

There was nothing wrong with fucking her step-son. They weren't blond relatives. In fact, it wasn't nearly as bad as being fucked by her mother's brother. And Billy had been fourteen that first time, almost two years older than she had been when her Uncle Frank had ended forever her naive innocence. She could see Bill through the tattered shower curtain. He was standing by the kitchen table and she could see also the bulge in his bathing trunks. He'd be reluctant, as usual but she knew she'd get him. He couldn't resist her.

"Comc help me, Billy. Right now!"

Damn! He should've left before she got out of the shower. He still could leave but where could he go? He'd tried once but she tracked him down and embarrassed him severely in front of Mrs. Brinton, Barbara's mother. Reluctantly he walked toward her bedroom.

The bedroom was messy. It was always messy. Not like before his mother went away. He hated her too. Why hadn't she taken him with her? He'd been twelve and he'd come home from school early. He'd heard her and, at first, he thought his father was beating her. But that usually happened only on Saturday night, when his father got drunk and mean. He'd vowed last weekend that he wouldn't let it happen again and, grabbing a baseball bat from the closet, he went to the bedroom.

But his father wasn't with her. And nobody was beating her. His mother was crying out, but not from pain. She was sprawled naked on the bed, staring with blank eyes at the ceiling, her mouth an open, red gash in her white face. The boy heard her words then. Not words of hurt or denial. A man, a dark, small man was lying on the big bed also, his body seeming like an extension of his mother's. His head was between her legs, his long, black hair looking for a moment like a profuse abundance of pubic hair. Bill's eyes filled with tears and he ran from the house. And that was the last time he'd seen his mother.

Joan had appeared about six months later. Only twenty, she was closer to his age than to his father's. Much closer. The young woman had not at first had any interest in her newly inherited stepson. He was still a boy, albeit a big one. But, in the intimate confines of the small bungalow, privacy was impossible. It was by accident that she saw him naked. At least, the first time was by accident. Several times in the succeeding days she saw him naked but these times were by intent, as if to confirm what she thought she'd seen the first time.

Bill, although only fourteen, was magnificently endowed. When erect it was almost ten inches of wrist-thick, virile bone but even in its flaccid state, it hung like a thick, limp salami between his legs. The young woman was not inexperienced. In fact, between the time of her incestuous initiation when she was twelve and her marriage to the forty year old father of this boy, she had known many men. But none of them possessed such huge equipment least of all, his father. It was a challenge in more ways than one. First it was the challenge of taking that monster inside her but, more than that, it was the challenge of possibly, no probably, being the first to experience it. To get this young man's cherry

It wouldn't be like this with Barbara. Her body would be firm and she'd lie there quietly while he made love to her. The sixteen year old felt surrounded by the woman's huge, soft breasts and belly as she alternately tightened and relaxed the grip of her legs around his hips.

"C'mon Bill. Help me. Fuck me!" she demanded. "Don't make me do all the work!" Joan's broad, soft pelvis rotated rhythmically as she fucked up at her teenage stepson, relishing the deep, thick penetration of his huge tool. Her fingernails raked his back, leaving pink lines nn his tanned skin as she heaved her hops under him. "Do it! Fuck me! I'm gonna cum! Do it!"

He'd show her. She wanted it, she'd get it. Bill grabbed her arms and pinned them to the bed, breaking her leg-clasp and getting his own legs outside hers so she couldn't move. He rammed his cock in and out of her juicy twat as she uttered breathless gasps.

The woman's voluptuous hips writhed within toe limited range of movement he allowed as the pressure of orgasm built in her belly. This boy was a marvel. She knew, from the many other times she'd had him, that he would satisfy her. He seemed reluctant to allow his own lust to take over but he'd screw her until she was exhausted.

Bill drove with hard, battering thrusts into Joan’s buxom body. Her huge breasts bounced and flopped and she grunted and gasped as she took his deeply penetrating cock up into her receptive sheath. Four times already she had convulsed in climax and he had still not gone. He was absolutely marvellous.

The teenager felt the heat in his testicles. He wanted to punish this immoral slut, to hammer her into insensibility, but he could not stem the imminent explosion. His elbows hooked under her knees and he lifted her legs, opening her to the utmost, as he pushed unto the hot, juicy depths. He felt something give in there and heard her shrill cry as she took his maximum penetration.

"Yehh...yeah baby...go…give it to me.." The hard fleshtube swelled and bucked and then she felt the gushing, spurting inundation of her sated twat. She squirmed, consciously contracting her inner muscles to milk the hotly spitting rock. What if her stepson impregnates her? She didn't care except that she didn’t really want a baby.