Barbi had managed to retain her virginity long past the age of legal consent.
But Barbi was a tease, and she finally met her match.
It was hot that summer night, and dark. The earth was moist with a sensual warmth that permeated Barbi's body.
She hadn't intended to let him go so far. She hadn't even intended to be alone with him, but there she was in the moist, soft garden, feeling the secret dark tremors that disturbed her sleep at night, and which she tried desperately to forget during the day.
Her thighs trembled, and her body felt heavy with her burning flesh, as his fingers wandered over her shoulders, causing goose flesh to appear on her fine soft skin.
She wasn't sure if the whole incident was a dream or not, and yet deep in her warm secret parts, she knew it was no dream.
His fingers lingered just a bit too long on her throat, stimulating her wildly, and she rapidly found herself helpless before his strong, masculine presence, felt her will dwarfed by the snaking fingers of lust which rippled through her.
And then she gasped, as she felt his skilled fingers, in the dark, planted on the dark moist places of her body. She became a slave to his whims, not knowing or understanding exactly what would happen, but carried away by the wild flame 'which melted her entrails and caused her to moan.
She even let him lift her skirt, and felt a fleshy contact with her secret parts that caused her to gasp with sensations so intense and so pleasurable that she was at a loss to define them.
CHAPTER ONE
Barbi Wallace walked slowly along rustic Oak Street, her dark hair blowing in the wind that filtered through the trees that lined the street with the glorious greens of spring.
She was a strikingly beautiful woman. Dark and with startling green eyes that told of a trace of Irish far back in her time. She was of medium height with a well-shaped head and a full curving figure that filled out her top and tweed sweater beautifully. Her face was beautiful with the fine regularity that showed good care, and the poise and expression that comes with the peace of hidden age.
Her lips were full and, perhaps just a trifle too sensual to quite fit the calm and large, wide green eyes above them. Her lips were the only feature of her lovely face that didn't tell the same story as the rest of her features. Here one might have seen hints of smoldering passion and unbridled lust that needed but the right match to set into a blazing riot of uncontrolled sexuality and disregard for the life she had made for herself with her husband.
But the match had never been fit to her life. She had done all the normal, expected things-all the things a middle-class woman usually does. She had been educated at a good college, achieved just about as much academically as had been expected of her by her family. She had been a noticed, but not outlandishly so, popular girl and when she was eighteen almost had an affair. In the best tradition of the upper-class family she had grieved for her loss when he married someone else precisely the correct length of time and got back into the business of living neither with more or less passion than before.
Her' father, retiring more and more into himself after the death of his wife, had let his beautiful daughter do as she pleased. And it had not been a difficult decision to make, for Barbi was a good girl, one who could be trusted to do the right thing at the right time, and in general, behave as a well-educated, well-behaved and virginal daughter should.
She had run through the usual gamut of adolescent emotion. At fourteen, she had a crush on a female schoolteacher and as this had been entirely unreciprocated, it had died a-quick death. Everyone who knew about it believed it. Her friends were very worried for her. That it wasn't true is for the moment neither here nor there, but it was believed that she might be a lesbian by Barbi herself. That it wasn't true was the point of her life. After leaving her school and going to college and making her debut in the social world she fell violently in love with an exciting rock star that she had met at a concert. Here she was again unfortunate. He turned out to be a homosexual and when his chance for her seduction was willfully given him by the adoring girl, he took his passion out on a hotel bellboy and his prick was lost forever! Almost destroyed by this non-affair for the better part of a month, she rallied, however, to fall in love with a man of almost fifty, a supposed friend of her father who was not gay or, a real friend of her father's.
In fairness to him it was the girl who pursued him with sexiness and cunning and worked to seduce him in ways that many a great man of moral character might have fallen to with less resistance.
He finally gave in, and with great heat one fine evening in June, in the garden at her father's house, beneath an apple tree, he left Barbi with very bloody thighs, torn underwear, a torn hymen and a feeling of vague disappointment.
Having been deflowered, she was thereafter a little more careful in her dealings with men. She had been eighteen when she had first felt herself being humped by a man and she was nearly twenty before another man pulled her panties down her thighs and pushed his grimly, searching fingers deep into the softness of her warm cunt. She had tolerated this attention before with patience, always insisting on calling a halt when an attempt was made to actually prick her. She was, in effect, a prick-teaser without knowing it, but on this occasion she met her match. Perhaps she let him play just a few seconds too long with her quivering clitoris. Perhaps she let him slip his deft fingers just a little too deep into her straining cunt. Whatever, when she felt the burning touch of his prick against her cool thighs and felt his knob nuzzle inside the crisp curls that shielded the entrance to her hole, she pushed at his hips. It was only make believe a relic of her upbringing a gesture of dying innocence a flourish of fading girlhood. For as his throbbing penis dipped into the soft moistness of her writhing love nest she grabbed his straining ass with both feverish hands and pushed him deep in her.
This was the first time that a man had come inside her and while he she couldn't remember his name had gone to get her a calming drink, she put the back of her hand hard against her cunt and let his hot spunk fill her palm while she thought of the strange but great differences between men and women.
On hearing him return she had wiped her burning pussy with her white panties and stored them in her purse for future examination and pleasant memories. Again this sexual interlude had been brought about under the clean skies and on the soft grass of home.
Her lover of that night had tried to make a full-fledged love affair of the occasion, but she had resisted him, not so much with skill as with a cold shoulder, because of his gossip as a queer.
Her next affair had been less romantic in setting but much more exciting in pleasure.
Her father had been out of town. She had called a man to repair the television set. They had talked and he had offered to look at her bedside radio, which he had done, but not before he had looked at her lovely tits and kissed them when, after the briefest of struggles, he had managed to pull them from her dress.
Before she had really known quite what was happening he had thrown her across the bed, removed her panties with his teeth as his hands were busy holding her and casually raped her. She had thought of screaming until she actually felt his hard prick plunging deep into her ravenous cunt and compromised by yelling for him to go faster.
This had been her most interesting sexual experience to date. The coarseness of her friendly rapist had interested her quite as much as his technique and she allowed him to repeat his performance some six times. But he in the end quit on her, although the truth was that she probably quit on him. They parted company when she refused him access to her anus and, when he had accepted this restriction, to her mouth as well. She simply would not suck.
It was shortly after this that she had met Tom Wallace and it had been on his side, love at first sight. He was a lawyer with a rising practice and with a father who had been a judge an attractive love at first sight with a girl like her. They had gone into enough of her background for any man to know. It had not been too long before he had even kissed her and it had made no sense to her when one night, after he had managed to take one of her tits out of her dress while they parked in his car, he returned it quickly, kissed her forehead and drove her straight home, as if she were a child. She later learned that this resolve not to take advantage of her was because of the respect for her calm and beauty and his belief that she was a virgin!
That was her first serious disappointment in men!
On the hundredth time of his asking her to marry him she had accepted and instead of kissing her had leaped up and telephoned his father the news. It looked like they would never fuck.
The wedding had been a lavish affair. Their honeymoon was spent in the mountains, where the bridegroom had business interests. Even on their honeymoon, it was business first!
But with marriage there had not come the match to ignite her passion either. It wasn't that she was unhappy: far from it. They liked the same things in life. They agreed on where to live: the suburbs. They agreed on the shows they wanted to see and the concerts. They agreed on the type of house to live in. Jn fact, they agreed on everything. Except they didn't agree on the frequency with which to indulge in sex. Once a week, usually on Saturday, was enough for him.
As she walked down the street, now and again brushing her hair from her eyes, her new shoes striking sharply on the pebbled surface of the narrow street, Barbi was reflecting on the news that she had received from Tom that morning.
He was going to Washington to defend a man on a fraud charge and would be away six weeks. He had not told her the night before because it had been a Saturday and well, it might have spoiled things. She smiled to herself as she recalled his opening remark.
"It'll be terrible being separated for six weeks, the first time in the two years we've been married."
This was the first she had heard of the impending separation and her smile was because he had looked rather sweet and eager and really unhappy at the thought of their being apart. But she was not smiling now. Her beautiful face was set in thought as she wondered what his absence would really mean to her. Would she really care as such as he obviously did? She forced herself to try and be objective. What was it that was missing from their relationship? He was an adequate lover. He was kind. He was wait a minute what had she thought of him? An adequate lover? She stopped stock-still as an overwhelming wash of memory and wonder flushed her mind. Tom was a wonderful lover. Tender. Careful. Everything. Not very frequent, not very expert, not very detailed in his attentions, not a man who could set a woman on fire. Anything but, not that. What was it that was wrong? She shook her head in confusion and walked on. What was wrong with her? Why didn't she care that he was going away, thousands of miles, for six weeks. She stopped again. Face it! Why was she even glad that he was going?
Her answer came without her ever really realizing it.
"Excuse me, is this right for Marks Avenue?"
"Marks?" she said. "Marks. Oh, yes." She turned and looked at her questioner. He sat there astride a bike, backpack on back and wide, engaging smile on his freckled face. He was a boy of perhaps fifteen years of age, and handsome in a childish way with rather large, protruding ears and thickish wide lips that hinted at a developing sensuality. But he was just a young boy! Strange, she thought that she should feel some vague feeling of disappointment about this. It was almost-she shrugged the feeling away. It was too sickening to face!
"Yes, Marks is about a mile down the road. Take the first cross street and it's about a quarter of a mile in from there."
"Thank you," the boy said. "We're going camping there, at the park."
"We?" Barbie asked, looking around.
"Well, I'm sort of a lookout scout. I'm down here a little early to get things started out. You know, where we get water. Where we can get oil for the stove. Well, I guess you know what camping is."
"I live in town," Barbie replied. "What part of the park you camping in?"
"It's called Tall Pines. We've never been there before. It was suggested to us by a troop leader, I think."
"The man you're talking about was my husband! she laughed. "Is my husband, I mean."
"Then you must be Mrs. Wallace," the boy joined in laughter.
"That's right," she said.
"Well, what a coincidence. This is really lucky for me. I mean, to meet you like this."
"I should have realized or at least remembered what my husband told me a week or so ago," Barbi said. "He mentioned that he'd given some club permission to camp in Tall Pines. I can't for the life of me remember the name of the club."
The boy grinned. "The club is the County Boys' Club. I'm the secretary of it. My name is Gerry Reese. Gerald to my Mom."
They both laughed.
"That's it," Barbie laughed. "Tom, that's my husband, was telling me. Isn't it some kind of athletic club?"
"Well, not exactly," he replied. "Most of us are very interested in sports but we do other things."
Barbie had to really struggle to resist the absurd temptation to ask, but she lost. "Such as."
"I don't understand."
Instead, she said, "It isn't really an athletic club, then?"
"Well, some people don't call what we like spo ts," he replied. "My father, for instance. We're mostly wrestling freaks."
Barbi smiled.
"I see," she said.
Helplessly she let her eyes wander over the boy.
He was a well-muscled, clean-limbed, white-skinned specimen. He wore khaki shorts and a striped T-shirt. A very ordinary, clean-cut All-American boy. And he was a wrestling freak. Ah, well!
"Well, if there's any way I can help, please let me know," she said. "My husband goes away tomorrow so I'm afraid he can't be of help to you, but if you want anything just come up to the house and let me know. You're all welcome up here. By the way, how long are you staying and how many of you are there?"
"We stay two weeks and there are fifteen of us."
"Fifteen of you!" she gasped. "Why, that's almost a boy scout jamboree."
"I'm afraid it is."
"Fifteen boys in Tall Pines, oh, my."
"Eleven girls," Jerry corrected. "Eleven girls? Then, you mean that there are eleven girls camping with you?" she gasped. "That's about it."
"All about your age?"
"Most of them are a bit older than me. In fact, I'm next to youngest in the group."
"But you're the secretary?"
He grinned attractively. "I don't mind the writing jobs!"
"How old are you?" she asked.
"Fifteen. Almost fifteen."
"Fourteen!"
"More or less," he shrugged.
"And your parents, yours and the girls' parents they don't mind you all camping like this?"'
He stared. "No, why should they."
"Oh, no reason at all. No reason at all," Barbie replied, hastily. Gerry grinned again.
"Between you and me," he confided, "I don't think they care much as long as they don't see us for three weeks."
"It was different in my day," Barbie told him. "I can't even imagine my mother and father dreaming of letting me go camping with boys. In fact, I think they'd have had a fit at the very idea, but times change."
"And you adults change with them," he concluded. "Yes, well, in your day it was different."
"In what way?" she asked, pretending to be angry.
"Oh, nothing," Gerry evaded, stirring uneasily on his bike as if the conversation had taken a turn not quite to his liking. As he shifted, Barbi, with the clearest conscience in the world and with a mind quite free of any consciousness of his boyishness, couldn't help momentarily noticing the slight bulge of his cock as it bulged his shorts as he shifted his thighs that were astride the crossbar of the cycle.
Her eyes flickered back to his face. She felt a most peculiar feeling, that the conversation could never be quite the same now. She felt free, unencumbered by the thought that, difference in ages made no difference. He was male and she was female. The thought was strange and frightening at the same time.
She said, "So it was different in my day?"
"I didn't mean that. I didn't really mean that."
"What did you mean?"
"I, well, young people can take care of themselves better these days," he replied.
You mean they're smarter?" she asked, and really thought that was what he had meant.
"No, no, I didn't mean that. Oh, I guess it's just a matter of science."
For a long moment, Barbie regarded Gerry while the meaning of his remark sank in. Then, despite herself, she felt an unusual glow sweep into her cheeks. He did mean that! The conclusion was inescapable. The child was teasing her with the advances made by science in the development of contraceptives since her youth! That was what he clearly meant and she decided to drop the subject before she got out of her depth. She was starting to get hot and didn't know what to do about it.
When she again looked at him, his face was quite clear of any teasing expression and for a moment she doubted her interruption.
His next words dispelled any doubts she might have had, though.
"I've read about how mothers used to worry about their daughters in your day," he said, his voice tinged with wonder at such silly maternalism.
'They don't worry now?" Barbi asked him.
"Heavens, no!" the boy chuckled. "Oh, it'd be a bad scene if a girl, well, you know, these days. It would be really dumb."
She looked him in the eye. "Is the word you wanted knocked up?"
"We always say knocked up. A stupid term for a stupid mistake."
"Fourteen-year-old girls knocked up?" she said, incredulously.
"Yes!" he nodded.
"Well," she replied, slowly, "I must admit that what you have told me has shocked me. I'm quite sure that my husband would never have given permission for your club to camp on the ground if he had the faintest idea of-"
She broke off, suddenly aware that she was, after all, talking to a boy of supposed innocence.
Gerry threw his leg across the bike's crossbar in alarm.
"Mrs. Wallace," he gasped, "please don't make things bad for us. After all, it was you who started talking like this. I mean, about it being a mixed camp."
Barbi stared and then nodded bitterly.
"I supposed it was," she said. "Mind you, I didn't dream of what I was going to learn."
'This sort of thing doesn't go on all the time," he protested.
"I should hope not."
"In fact, it's usually that the boys ... "
"Masturbate," she filled in for him.
"Yes."
"I'm glad to hear that. Well, as you seem to think that I wormed my way into your confidence, I won't say anything to my husband. But I warn you, part of my reason for not telling him is also that I don't want to shock him. I don't want to destroy his faith in the younger generation. Well, I really must be going. Goodbye, Gerry."
"Goodbye, Mrs. Wallace. Listen, there's nothing really wrong with us teenagers. It's just that we grow up to be men quicker, that's all."
He leaped astride his bike and drove fiercely at the top speed. She watched him streak off down the street, his khaki shorts biting into the cleft between his buttocks and tan legs.
Barbi Wallace bit her lips and for a reason that was to take her long to explain, averted her eyes and deliberately didn't watch him cycle out of sight.
Her pussy by then was damp and itching, and it scared the shit out of her. What the hell was happening?
CHAPTER TWO
That evening after dinner Barbi sat in front of the fire in her living room and waited while her husband busied himself upstairs packing for his trip. She held a book in her hands but only one page had occupied her attention for the last hour. She simply could not concentrate.
Her mind was across the lawn and through the orchard and down over the hill to the park and up the stream where she knew a solitary tent was pitched in the darkness away from the drop of the trees but near enough to the stream to hear the clean song of the water over the stones. She could, in her mind, see the glint of the light from a hurricane lamp upon his fair hair. She could see the reflection of the light on a damp spot on his thick, sensual lower lip. She could almost hear the whisper of the wind as it slipped beneath the tent flap and see it toying with the wide leg of his khaki shorts as he sat clasping his knees and thought of jerking off.
Engrossed in these thoughts she had become rigid. For a moment she looked wildly around her, and then shook herself and rubbed her moist palms hard together. She was intelligent enough to be struck more by the symbolism of the boy beating his meat in her fantasy than in the purely erotic content of the wish-projection.
She breathed deeply and reached for a cigarette from the ivory cigarette box beside the chair. She lit one and inhaled deeply and her face relaxed in thought. She was horny!
This thing had to be faced. From one extreme she was going to another. Once upon a time she had seduced a friend of her father, a man old enough to be her father. Now it was in the conscious part of her mind to seduce a boy young enough to be her son. Her nipples glowed and erected at the use in her mind of the word seduce. That was perfectly true. The thought of his hard young body astride hers, his strong, wiry thighs pounding on hers as he drove his small white hardness into her made her writhe for a moment in her chair.
Then she smiled and the fantasy was relieved f r a moment as a typically feminine thought struck her. What the hell was she saying, that she was almost old enough to be his mother? She was thirty-two, almost. Gerry was fourteen. Oh, no!
Her smile faded as she realized that this was straight-forward justification. These were terrible thoughts and must be stamped out. Face it another way. If Tom were actually gone now on his trip, and that boy walked in that door and came to her and touched her and let his young hands wander over her taut body and she were aware of his bright, hard young sex erect and wanting to dare the passage between her thighs, then, would she allow him? Her thighs felt hot and she closed her eyes to concentrate on rendering herself a fair answer. She was saved the necessity by the sound of the door clicking. Her heart thumped and her vagina contracted.
It was Tom.
"Well, that's it," he said.
She breathed deeply.
"Yes," she concurred, that's that."
He walked over to her.
"I beg your pardon, darling?"
"Oh, nothing."
He sat down in the armchair opposite her. "Throw me a cigarette," he said. "My case is empty."
She opened the box and threw him one. He lit with an old silver lighter and leaned back. He looked so middle-aged.
"Well, that's that."
"So you've said," Barbi replied.
He looked at her.
"What's the matter with you, darling? You sound almost hasty."
She shrugged, "Sorry."
He looked at his glowing cigarette tip and frowned. "I know it's a drag, I mean, having to go away like this, but you know how it is. This will be a really fantastic opportunity for me. If I manage to win this case, the results could be absolutely stupendous."
She closed her eyes in irritation. The excitement! If only he could display the same excitement in bed!
He was going on. She forced herself to listen.
"Company law is my specialty and fraud is really something that offers tremendous opportunities in the field."
Bored, her mind snapped into coarseness. She thought, he's worrying about a silly court case halfway across the world and I'm wondering what it would be like to be fucked by a boy of fourteen!
The thought was so vivid, that for a moment she looked at him, feeling half-convinced that she had given voice to this domestic atrocity.
Tom's face, however, was calm and comfortable. He puffed on his cigarette and expanded on his ambitions.
"All this could lead to government work. Great practice and all that could lead to even greater work. Could be quite fantastic. You do see my point, don't you, darling?"
"Oh, yes," she replied.
"By the way, I've left you a dozen blank checks signed. You'll probably need them for household expenses."
She looked at him. "I could pay that sort of thing until you get back."
"Let's do things properly," was his only reply.
She laughed, "And you paying all the bills is doing things properly."
"Barbi, you are in a damned funny mood tonight. You know very well how we work things."
"I wonder if I do," she mused.
"What's the matter with you. It's not that you're upset that I'm going away, is it?"
She shook her head. "No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just that I'm a bit nervous. Take no notice of me. I'll be all right."
"That's my girl!" her husband smiled, smugly.
She winced at the expression, which he seldom but seldom, if ever used, but which annoyed her immeasurably when he did. But she said nothing.
He crossed his legs contentedly. "I phoned the old man just now. He'd heard I was going. Gave me a couple of tips on procedure.
He paused and then broke into a short chuckle.
"What's the matter?" she asked. Tom threw back his head and laughed. "Gave me a word of advice about the natives," he chuckled. "Oh?"
"Yes, told me to be very careful of the local girls. It seems that some of them are damned attractive and only too keen to collar themselves a rich man."
Barbi didn't feel up to arguing the logic or-likelihood of this belief so she said nothing.
"Of course, you can see their point of view," Tom added.
"I'm afraid I can't," she replied tartly.
"What do you mean?"
"What I say-I can't see their point of view."
"My goodness, you are being bitchy tonight, darling. Oh, well, I suppose it's my going away. Don't worry, honey, I'll be back the very second it's possible."
"I still don't see why it's the point of view of big-town girls to want to get themselves a rich man. I may be dense but I just don't see it. Why not just a good man?"
"Then I'm afraid you must be dense, darling, because it's quite obvious why they should."
"All right, why. Tell me why."
"Now look here, darling..."
"Tell me why!" she shouted.
"Well, just because it is natural."
"So it's natural for a woman to want some bastard of a rich man bouncing up and down on her belly. I suppose they're better lays," she snapped.
Tom was stunned into silence for a moment. When he could speak he almost stuttered.
"Barbi, really!"
"Do you think it's natural that a sharp woman should want to go to bed with country men rather than men of their own class?" Barbi demanded.
He was horrified at the way she spoke.
"Now you're being downright disgusting," he said. "And I must say I've noticed that when you get excited, and that is usually about nothing. You do tend to become coarse."
"Oh, thank you. Now answer my question. You said you can see the point of view of a city girl wanting a country man. That seems to me that it doesn't need much imagination to extend that to the country man being naturally attacted to a city woman."
"Nothing of the kind."
"No, I know what it means," she interrupted. "It means that you believe in the superiority of the rich, backward race and that with city people you're dealing with thoughtless animals. Frankly, I often think it's the other way around."
"Perhaps you'd like to screw with a city man," he snapped.
"If he could do the things I like done, when I like them done, know how I like them done and I could respect him, it wouldn't make one bit of difference to me!"
"This sounds to me like a conscience apology!" he said.
Could it be she was thinking of adultery?
"I don't doubt it does to you!" Barbi snapped back.
"If I thought ... " Tom started to say.
"If you thought what?" Barbi cut in her eyes now blazing with fury. "If you thought I'd ever been fucked by another man?"
Tom leaped to his feet and raised his hand. Barbi raised her face towards him.
"If you thought that, what would you do?" she sneered. "Not forgetting, of course. That what I did before I met you is just as much my business as what you got up to before we met is your business. You knew I wasn't a virgin when you married me. What are you going to do now? Worry about how many pricks I've had?"
Tom's jaw quivered in a spasmodic convulsion and his fingers writhed as he tried to summon up the conviction that would let him lay his hand across his wife's mouth.
"Well," she asked, in a small voice, exchausted by the flush of obscenity that had made her speak like that.
"You usually confine this kind of talk to bed," he said.
"And you can't understand it here?"
"I can never understand it, but there I have been able to tolerate it. Now I wonder if I was right to ever do so. What a terrible thing you've said, Barbi."
"Just a minute. I haven't said that I've ever had an affair with another man, since we've been married. All I've said is that I wouldn't be ashamed of it if I did."
"A small practical difference."
"I should have thought that as long as the difference was practical that was all you needed to worry about."
Tom began to pace the floor. This always irritated her and now it did so more than ever.
"Are we happy together?" he asked.
She was in no mood to compromise.
"I usually feel a distinct absence of misery," she said.
"That's a horrible thing to say."
"You keep accusing me of horrible thoughts and of saying horrible things. Hasn't something occurred to you?"
He looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"Perhaps I'm a horrible person?"
He took rather longer to reply to this than she could have wished.
"Well, you certainly have some horrible ideas. Now, look here, let's face it, Barbi. You are very, well, sexy."
"Can you bear to face it?"
"Yes, I can."
The smile left her face.
"You can bear to face it but you can't bear to do anything about it."
"What are you saying?"
"I thought I was being obvious."
"You mean that I should arrange some treatment for you? Well, that has occurred to me."
She almost allowed her jaw to drop as she assimilated this remark. Then she threw back her head and burst out laughing.
"The man is absolutely convinced I'm a nymphomaniac!" she shrilled.
"My interpretation of nymphomania is an inordinate preoccupation with sex on the part of a woman," he said, softly.
'That's mine, too," she nodded. "How would you like to hear my interpretation of impotence? I think impotence is an inordinate preoccupation with anything but sex on the part of a man!"
"Are you suggesting that I'm impotent, or undersexed?" he demanded furiously.
"Darling, just leave it that you're sexy, but not a stud. Just be my Saturday night stallion and don't get ambitions higher than your balls!" '
"Barbi!"
"Tom!" she mimicked.
"You've never been like this, at least."
"Out of bed," she supplied.
"I've never inquired into your past," he said slowly. "But it's beginning to look as if I should have."
"I could say the same. I might have found that you had a pathological history of unbridled sexuality. You probably masturbated twice a day between the ages of fourteen and twenty."
"Fourteen!"
She shut her eyes. Why had she chosen that precise age for her taunt? She could see Gerry again! He was in a sleeping bag now. His hand was gliding up and down his erect cock, forcing the white skin back over his crimson knob. His face was set and his eyes startling. He convulsed and she saw the thick spurt of his gray sperm as it gushed out of his pulsing cock. She shuddered deliciously.
Oh, to be holding that rapidly pulsing penis between her writhing lips and feeling the hot gush of his spunk in her mouth! She opened her eyes and thrust her hands, palm to palm, between her clenched thighs. She could feel the wetness of her passion in her panties.
She looked at her husband who was staring at her in almost frightened amazement.
"Let's go to bed," she said. "You have to be up early in the morning."
CHAPTER THREE
She lay in the bath and listened to the rustle of paper as Tom looked through papers as he waited for her to finish her bath. Even that routine was dull and so exact as to be maddening to her. She would have her bath and then the drill was for her to yell out to him, 'I'm running yours now, darling.' To which the inevitable reply was, 'Let me know when it's up to the top.'
If he could only know the times she would have liked him in the bath with her! She sighed. He'd probably have grumbled that there wasn't room.
She heaved herself up and down in the water by putting her hands just behind her hips and levering herself upward so that her dark-haired cunt rose above the level of the swirling, soapy water.
She watched her pussy as the water sparkled and played with it. She could feel the warm tickle of it as it gushed in and out of her vagina, gently parting the firm lips of it with its insistent pressure.
She looked down at her tits. They gleamed brilliantly with the water on them. Her nipples, full and lush like twin raspberries, stood poised on the silky creaminess of the firm globes beneath them looking like ripe fruit that had been delicately tossed on to two orbs of smooth cream.
She lowered her cunt beneath the water. The water seemed to still and assuage the wanting ache of it a little. She ran her hands up over her hips to her waist where, thumbs behind, fingers before, she gripped the trimness of its deep curve. She spread her hand flat over her belly just above her navel and slowly ran them hard up to beneath her tits. As her hands met them she opened her fingers and slid them up and cupped them fiercely. She held them together and looked down at the deep, suggestive cleft formed by the crushing of them together.
Her nipples were hard and cold and pointed, digging into her hands as she clutched the firm mounds of her tits. She slowly moved her hands so that her palms massaged her erect nipples. A glow seemed to spread from her tits down her belly, between her thighs to her ass. A steady, delicious pulsing began deep in the tight pinkness of her nest.
She looked towards the door. She hadn't a full view of the bedroom but she heard the sound of her husband's feet as he moved. She had left him in his dressing gown sitting on the edge of the bed examining some papers. She listened for a moment. He was quiet. A paper rustled. Slowly she slipped her hand down her belly and between her thighs which had now sagged open, relaxed by the insistent pulsing of her cunt.
Carefully spreading her hand, she dipped her middle finger deep into the soft eagerness of her quim. She shuddered and let her head fall back and raised her knees. Deeper and deeper into her aching gush slid her finger, the tip of it flicking her clitoris now erect like a pink helmet in a sea of pulsing, quivering flesh.
She was beginning to build towards an orgasm when she heard a step in the bedroom. She quickly withdrew her hand from between her writhing thighs and grabbed at the soap. Even in the speed of the moment the wry thought struck her as to why should she stop playing with herself just because her husband was about to appear on the scene.
The answer was quick and vivid. It would have been almost the same as being caught playing with oneself by one's mother.
The water still swirled suggestively from her recent exercise when Tom appeared in the bathroom doorway. He leaned on the door and looked at her. As always, he looked slightly embarrassed, almost as if he was looking at someone else's wife in the bath.
"Nice?" he asked.
Her biting irritation at being disturbed at her masturbation wasn't being eased by the nagging, reaching ache between her quaking thighs.
"It's wet and warm," she replied.
"You look nice in the bath," he ventured.
She looked at him.
"Nice and what! Nice and clean?"
"No! I mean, yes, you do look that. But I mean, well, very attractive."
She looked at him reflectively. Could anything ever change him? There he was, the very template of the attorney reserved, polite unshakeable in his belief that the law men were the last expression of the designs of conventionalism.
Sex, to him, was definitely nice, that was to say, pleasant. But there again, it was so nice that it really must be nasty. After all, wasn't it true that anything that destroyed the poised format and relentless dignity of a man, was well, rather not quite the thing?
"Thank you, Tom," she said, reflectively, at last. "That's quite the sexiest thing you've said to me in ages."
"Now you're being sarcastic. I'm sort of trying to say that I do understand your point of view."
"And what is my point of view?"
"Look here, Barbi, let's face it. You are a bit sexier than me, so why can't we strike a compromise?"
She sat up in the bath, her lips curled in a sarcastic sneer.
"What do you mean? No sex on Wednesdays, too?"
"Look here, I've never seen you make any effort to do anything," he said hotly.
"Such as?"
"Anything."
"like feeling around to see if you've got anything I can use?" she asked.
He was saying something but she didn't hear it. Was it her talking to the man in her life like this? What had gotten into her to make her into an outrageous bitch in a few short hours?
A taunting obscenity sprang to her mind as a willful explanation. Perhaps it was what hadn't got into her!
The haunting thought of Gerry in the loneliness of his dark tent flooded her mind and it was with a physical effort that she brought back her attention to what her husband was saying.
"We've had fights before, but nothing like this. Is it because I'm going away? If it is, I really do think you might have told me before. It's a bit late in the day for me to cancel this job."
She merely heard herself saying, "Of course you must go. Take no notice of me. It's just a mood. It'll pass."
She hardly realized that she had made this reassurance and she fell to wondering why she had made it. The conclusion was inescapable and having accepted it she never varied from her course or modified her designs.
She was glad he was going. Something was going to happen between her and the boy probably lying sleeping in his tent by the water.
Now she knew it, and she knew it just as well that if it wasn't him, it would be someone else. Tom wasn't enough for her, never had been. Would any one man be enough? That remains to be seen. She felt her resolve harden to the background of Tom's rather insipid voice, speaking in the measured, precise sentences that were so impressing in a law court where passion and life were slowed to the pace of reason and order.
She would do it. She would abandon herself to sensation while she was still capable of responding to it. Not for her the regrets that sometimes seem to flood away the tranquility that should be the right of old age.
She wanted her kicks while she was still young enough to enjoy them. Even if they had to be found with a boy!
The thought must have sobered her for she was again aware of Tom rather plainly saying, "I don't think you're listening to a word I'm saying."
No point now in trying to outrage his code to startle him into the kind of activity that she so desperately needed.
So she arose in the bath and said, "I'm sorry, Tom. I know I'm being nasty. Throw me the towel."
He tossed her the towel and as she bent to dry her hips she saw his eyes were upon her triangle of hair where it was alive with the sparkle of the diamonds of water.
Why not? Why not, she thought. If I'm abandoning myself to sensation why should I deny Tom a part in it. Her lips parted. After all, he could fuck!
The thought excited her and as she dried her ass she made sure she parted the hair-bound lips so that he could see the soft, desirable pinkness that lay waiting for the ravage of thrusting sex.
He moved from his position at the door as if he would touch her. Not knowing why, she moved anticipating and avoiding his touch. She pulled the chain of the bath plug.
"There," she said, inconsequently.
"You could have left the water," he said, softly. "I don't mind bathing after you."
"Thank you," she said, avoiding his eyes and busying herself with her drying.
He put his left hand around her waist. Her flesh was cooling now and his hand felt warm and unwanted.
"Darling," he said.
She looked at him. His face was pale, always a sign of incipient passion. The last of the water gurgled away and she reset the hot tap and stepped out of the bath.
"Oh, do let me dry, Tom," she said. "It's kind of chilly out of the water.
He took her in his arms and she folded her hands with the towel in them across her tits and leaned back from him and regarded him gravely.
"I wish I'd have undressed," he smiled, sheepishly, twitching aside his dressing gown to display his black suit pants.
"I suppose you do," she agreed.
Hell, would that have stopped many men? The television serviceman who had taken possession of her body had "told her that to fuck, standing was known as a great sport.
"Of course," he said, "we could do it standing up."
She stared at him and burst out laughing.
"What's the matter?" he demanded.
"Nothing," she gurgled. "It's just that idea from you-"
"I learned it in the Army."
She looked at him prettily, head aside.
"Did you learn how to do it in the Army?" she asked.
"Are you trying to lure me into a confession of past sins?" he smiled.
"No, into a demonstration of military practices," she countered.
She felt his hand slide down between their bellies. The back of his hand nudged her protruding mount. He fumbled with his zipper.
"Aren't you going to take your pants off?" she asked.
"You asked for it Army-style!" he grinned.
For a moment she loved him. She clasped her arms tightly about him.
"What a bitch I've been tonight," she replied, more to herself than to him.
He was hard. Very hard. She felt the rigidity of it, the base of it bearing almost painfully against the top parting of the lips of her cunt. Had she ever herself been fucked standing! Goodness, was it going to come to Tom teaching her something?
He moved slightly away from her and her eyes looked down between their bellies, hers flat and naked with the pubic hair a fierce blazon of blackness against the silky, slightly pale creaminess of her skin, his hard and hairy one where his fly was open.
His cock was out, jutting arched and dark against his pants. Not exceptional in the matter of length it was thick and strong and filled her satisfactorily when its own was willing to donate it to her service.
Her eyes gleamed as she regarded the knob, dark red almost to purple and swollen with the rage of growing passion.
A blue vein along the side of it pulsed and his foreskin was back and baring the smooth deliciousness of his masculinity.
As she put her hand down toward it she had a sudden strange feeling that she shouldn't, that it was a waste of time, that he would be disappointing, that she wouldn't have a climax, that it would be better to go to bed and dream of the dark tent down by Tall Pines and wake up in the morning with sticky thighs and hot fantasies swirling in her horny stem.
But her fingers closed around his throbbing stem. She felt his hips arch towards her and his hands slipped around behind her to her ass cheeks. She knew more or less what would happen now.
Maybe it wasn't much, but it was certainly better than nothing. The question was, would it cure her of wanting the boy?
CHAPTER FOUR
He would part her ass cheeks and let the edge of his hand idle between them. Then his searching fingers would ignore her anus and slip onward towards her cunt there to be ordinary and not very insistent-He didn't know how she sometimes longed to have the cherry-hued rose of her bottom toyed with, investigated and even penetrated, if only by the tip of his finger, much less his cock.
Sure enough, his hand parted her bottom cheeks and dipped down towards her cunt, brushing accidentally in paddling her quivering anus.
"Sorry!" he muttered.
She could have killed him!
She stiffened as the edges of his fingers parted her gush and slid lengthwise along the soft moistness of her furry groove.
The tip of his forefinger found, more luck than judgment, the erected tip of her clitoris. She closed her eyes and shuddered with delight as he pressed the tiny helmet and stroked it softly.
"Faster!" she moaned.
His finger darted to and fro over her burning bud until her thighs were writhing and she was moaning in ecstasy.
Suddenly, before she was really aware of what he was doing, he turned her, seizing her almost roughly by the hips and swinging her around. He swiftly bent her forward before she had any chance to resist. For a moment she tensed, fully expecting to feel the bit of his knob against the pleated ring of her bottom.
"Keep still!" he muttered.
He had one hand in front of her, his fingers parting the hairy lips of her delicious cunt. The other hand she could feel groping excitedly between her thighs at the back. She felt the burning touch of his swollen knob at the lush portals of her mossy grotto.
So this was how it was done! This was a stand, yes, response to the fierce delight his tool aroused in her!
It thrust aside the spasm contracted walls of her love soaked vagina and whipped every nerve of her body into an orchestra of screaming lust. As the root of his member ground hard against her clit she gave an extra yelp of abandoned joy. She reached behind her and pulled his thighs hard against hers, as if to drag his throbbing cock even deeper into the now deliciously sticky maw of her writhing, pulsing cunt. Bent forward as she was, she could see his balls as they swung between her thighs.
She pushed her ass back violently in time to each frantic thrust of his loins and was rewarded with feeling the soft thud of his balls as they beat against her thighs.
In and out of her pulsing nest surged his cock, on the outward stroke allowing the cunt lips to close to the size of the very tip of his knob and then driving it back into her until his hair bumped hard against her hairy pubes and her cunt was stretched around the thickness of his prick base and almost all of the root of it to his balls was dipped into her soft, sweet wetness.
She moaned and shrieked as he drove his shaft in and out of her burning quiver, his balls swinging thoroughly to bump against her hair halfway up the triangle. She writhed and twisted, rubbing her fiery cunt against the hot rigidity of his cock, seeking to extract every last bit of sensation from the piston-like strokes with which he was riddling her.
Barbi arched to meet him as he suddenly gave a moan of ecstasy. Her ass drove hard against his pants-covered belly. He gave one last mad, burning thrust that sent his cock up into her like a blazing rocket and then she felt the swift torrential gush of his come as it was flung up into her by his orgasmic spasm.
For a moment she couldn't believe it.
"Don't finish! Don't finish!" she screamed. "I haven't come yet. Oh, Tom, make me come!"
She wriggled her cunt around his cock, but it was already softening rapidly.
He gave one or two more feeble thrusts into her and she plunged her ass backward to try and engulf the last remaining stiffness of what had been a moment before a burning lance deep in her vitals.
But it was useless. One of her mad backward thrusts drove the pitifully limp prick out of her gash and although she madly tried to scramble it back with both hands there was nothing left to re-penetrate her gaping ass.
She wheeled on him in a fit of fury.
"You bastard!" she screamed. "You useless, sexless, impotent bastard! You can't even finish me when you've got me this far!"
Her hands were almost tearing at her cunt, her fingers, two together, driving into her hole as she tried to frig herself to the climax denied her by his premature ejaculation.
He looked at her in horror and remorse as he watched her fingers clawing and working at her cunt, fingers gray with his sperm.
"Get out!" she shrilled.
His limp penis hanging dejectedly from his gaping fly, Tom turned and stumbingly left the bathroom.
Barbi turned and swiftly sat herself on the bathroom stool. She pushed out her legs stiff before her, her hands worked dexterously between her thighs, now wet with his love juice. She threw her head back and closed her eyes.
A dark tent! A rough blanket under her silky ass! The hard white pencil-like prick of a boy darting in and out her hot twat. "Oh, make me come," she cried out loud.
In her ecstatic fantasy she could almost feel the surge of the boy's hard young loins as he pressed his cock inexpertly into her burning ring.
She thrust out madly with her feet and her ass left the stool in a spasm to delightful torment. She was rigid for a moment of pleasure.
Then slowly her ass sank down again to the stool and her hands slipped down from between her shaking thighs. A shuddered gasp dribbled from her lips and she slowly bent her knees in relaxation.
She looked at her wet fingers and then slowly wiped them on a towel.
Her own love juice mingled with her husband's hung like gray pearls on the black hair of her cunt. She slowly opened her eyes and looked towards the bedroom.
The expression on her face was hardly pleasant and might have shocked her could she have seen it. It was the expression of a woman who would stop at nothing rather than ever relive the last few moments again.
She rested the heel of her hand on the moist hair of her ass and closed her eyes.
"Tomorrow he'll be gone," she murmured.
CHAPTER FIVE
The rest of that day passed in a succession of hazy highlights for Barbi. A bouquet of flowers arrived from Tom. He had sent it from the airport and it combined fifteen dollars worth of sentiment with a certain degree of regret. He told her he loved her and that the keys to the car were on the night table in the bedroom.
Several times she tried to read and once she attempted a letter to her father. She couldn't read and didn't know why. She couldn't write a letter to her father and she did know why.
She smiled wryly to herself at the very thought of it. What would her father say if he knew that she was making extensive plans to get a boy of fourteen to fuck her? He could probably send a psychiatrist to her side on the double. That's how conventional he was.
The only decent part of the day was a conversation she had in the late afternoon with Mary, the housekeeper. She was flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine when Mary came in to dust. Barbi watched her idly for a few minutes.
Then she asked, "Where do you go in the evening, Mary?"
Mary paused and stroked her chin with the broom handle.
"Movies. A dance, sometimes. Then again I might just go for a walk. It all depends."
In the more informal conversations between them, it was tacitly agreed that the formalities be dropped. They would be on a first name basis.
"No boy friend?" Barbi smiled.
"Around here?" Mary replied, scornfully. "I haven't seen anything real decent since I've been here. Not that I mind," she added hastily.
"No, they're not quite like city guys, I would say. Still, I should have thought there'd have been someone. But that's your business."
"I've had enough of boys. What I want is nourishment, not punishment!" Mary grinned.
"I think you're very right. Everything in its time. On the whole you do like it here, Mary."
"I love it! It's so quiet and, well, dignified. After what I've been used to, that is."
Barbi almost flushed. She wondered how dignified Mary would think her if she knew what she planned. Oh, how careful she would have to be!
"I've never known anything like this. I mean, being with people like you and Mr. Wallace."
It was almost as if the girl knew, and was twisting the dagger, but how could she?
Barbi thought that she would be more comfortable if she changed the subject.
"Anyway," she said, "you go out tonight and enjoy yourself. There's a good movie on at the Bijou."
The Bijou was the local theatre for teenagers. Mary seemed to be thinking of something else.
"Yes," she said, "men are poison. It's a funny thing and sometimes it even worries me, but I'm mostly attracted to boys younger than myself, and when I say younger than myself, I mean younger!"
Barbi's heart almost stood still.
"What do you mean?" she faltered.
"Well, I seem to like teenagers. Part of my trouble before I met Mr. Wallace was over a kid of fourteen. Isn't it awful!"
Barbi closed her eyes with relief. What hell intrigue was! Every word, every gesture, every nuance of meaning could be interpreted by the guilty conscience into meaning discovery, or, at the least, suspicion.
Another thought struck her. What was it that Mary was saying? She, too, was attracted to young boys? Could this be a coincidence? She eyed Mary carefully. like a lot of people doing a thing outside the scope of their experience and beyond the stretch of their moral convictions. Barbi had considered her actions, her designs on Gerry, as being a rather unique manifestation of a somewhat shady and undesirable moral characteristic. She thought herself to be a weirdo, but now, hearing what Mary had to say about her preferences, was this still true?
She said, "You're not telling me that you prefer boys to men?"
"I'm afraid so. Is that so awful? I know it sounds terrible; it sometimes worries me."
Barbi paused before replying. She realized she must take into consideration the difference in their own ages and their social status. She was some six or seven years older than Gerry, and she was married. And, anyway, was it so unnatural for a woman to like the young and the vital, the pure and the innocent?
Men traditionally chased young virgins. Wasn't it possible a completely natural reaction of experience to inexperience? She knew it wasn't but the possibility was enough to quiet her conscience, but she was interested in a light taste in another. She just couldn't help it.
"You mean, of course, that you, well, just went around with this boy?" she asked, carefully.
"I wish I did. No, I lived with him," Mary replied. "I guess you know what I mean. We were real lovers. Sex and all that. He got right in my hair in more ways than one! There was a time when I didn't think I could live without him. He'd only just finished school. He was a clever kid. I ruined him. That's the truth, I ruined him!"
Barbi chose her words carefully. She was thrilled beyond measure by what Mary had told her, but she didn't want to raise any suspicions by too close questioning. Still, her similar interests could make an easier situation for Barbi herself.
"Well, I suppose it's just human nature," she said. "But it's an episode that's passed and no doubt won't be repeated."
"I hope!" Mary grinned.
"You don't mean that you're still attracted to young boys?" Barbi asked.
"Not much! Yes, I'm afraid I do. Perhaps it's just what this little devil did to me, but I still am. When I see a younger fellow in the street I have to look the other way. Honest, that's the only thing I think could ever get me into trouble again. Real trouble, that is. But a maid needs sex, too, you know."
"I don't quite see what you mean," Barbi said. "It's wrong, I know, but it can hardly get you into trouble. Apart from the obvious trouble, I mean."
Mary stared. "No? What if the police were to find out? They didn't find out about me and the other guy, but if they had, don't you know it's against the law to seduce a kid? Seduction of minors, they call it, makes fun into something dirty."
"No, I didn't know," Barbi replied. Another complication! I suppose a minor, in law, is someone under sixteen, she thought.
"Age of consent in a girl," Mary continued, "but I don't know what they call it in a boy. Mind you, my boy didn't need seduction. He was hot for his age. Once he knew he'd got me hot for him, he was after me like an old wolf of forty!"
She looked at Barbi and her face fell.
"I haven't upset you with what I've said, have I?" she asked.
Yes, you have, Barbi thought to herself but she just shook her head.
"No, you haven't shocked me. I'm surprised at what you tell me. But I think I can see what you had to contend with in the way of temptation."
"You don't think I'm sick?" Mary said. "I sometimes do, myself."
"No, I don't think it was sick of you. I supposed most people would call it immoral, but, oh, I don't know whether you were right or wrong."
She said this so vehemently that Mary looked at her in surprise.
"Well, I know it's wrong even to think about such things. But I am shocking you, I can tell. I'd better get on with my work!"
And so she did get on with her work, watched by a reflective Barbi in whom the only emotion aroused by the confession was one of anxiety as to what might happen to Gerry if Mary saw him first!
The rest of the day passed quietly. At just after six Mary and a friend left for their evening out. The girl mentioned that she would be back very late as she intended visiting her sister in the next town. Mary would have to come back alone. Barbi had carefully found out from Mary that she was u-likely to return before eleven. That would leave two and a half hours for her to be alone with Gerry.
For the last time she considered the consequences of her action if she were discovered and for the last time she dismissed him. From then on she entered the affair with abandon and complete resolve to follow the dictates of her desires, dangerous as they were. She just had to fuck the boy!
Eight o'clock saw her fresh from her bath sitting in front of the dressing table in her bedroom. She was quite naked beneath her chiffon robe and as it fell open as she leaned forward to brush her eyebrows her creamy tits, as round as grapefruit, jutted out without suspicion of sag and trembled excitingly, at he slightest movement. Her nipples deep cherry, reared from the silken surfaces of the impeccable tits like buds on a rooftop kissing the first warm air of spring.
She finished her subtle attentions to her face, carefully applying the eye shadow to give her an older look. Then she walked over to her closet and gazed into it thoughtfully.
Something lush and extravagant? Something enticing and tantalizing? No! It'd have to be something simple. Something sweet and clean-looking. Something that enticed without overt sophistication and allure without being obviously seductive.
That referred, of course, to the dress! Her underwear was quite another story. If he got to see them, there wasn't any further point in pretending innocence.
She looked at her ripe young breasts and ran a hand over them proudly. Something to show them off was an essential. Black should do it.
She took a black bikini bra and put it over her arm. Then she selected a pair of black see-through panties, gossamer webs of frilly nothingness with plenty of open work lace that would show to advantage her silken thighs and the brilliant scar of her pubic hair. Would he drool when he saw it?
Now, stockings. What about them? Something sheer, evening stockings, certainly. But what color? She had a pair of black stockings she'd bought for a formal dance and had only worn once.
Remembering the effect that they'd had on Tom, when they'd returned from the party-he'd almost raped her on the rug in front of the fireplace with them still on she was tempted to wear them for this occasion.
But were black mesh stockings quite the thing to turn on a boy of fourteen? And, above all, did they go with the motif of simplicity she wanted? Regretfully, she doubted it. Dammit all!
She chose a pair of flesh-covered nylons, transparent to the gaze and weightless to the touch and indescribable to the caress. At least he would feel something nice.
Now, the problem of keeping the stockings up. On the face of it a single problem and in normal circumstances easily solved. Normal circumstances! Pantyhose would have solved the problem, but a black garter belt was much more exciting to the eye.
There, she'd said to herself, and it horrified her. These were abnormal circumstances! She shrugged the thought away. Her mind went back to when she had seduced her father's friend in the garden. He had been a devotee of garter belts. He had kissed her belly where the thin red strap of the garter belt she had been wearing had scarred her white flesh. His hard-on throbbed because of it.
But Gerry, would he like garter belts? She thought of it for a moment and decided that he probably would. He didn't sound as if he was completely without experience and perhaps some of the young girls he'd enjoyed had still been in the black elastic garter stage!
The thought of his possible .experience with young girls made her frown for a moment, but she realized the silliness of the emotion and smiled as she reached out for a thin black, frilly garter belt with two straps for each stocking. The black of the straps always looked good against the pristine whiteness of her plump thighs. Brazen and sexy.
She went back to her dressing table and put them under it. She smiled as she looked at them. A handful of seductive lace but to a man, well, they could change the course of a man's life and had so done, many a time!
Would it make a boy into a man?
She peeled her dressing gown off luxuriously, enjoying the sensation of the silk hissing over her full, rearing ass. She tossed it aside and stood naked before the mirror frankly admiring the blazing beauty of her sensuous body.
Her eyes ran approvingly down from her fine slim neck, over the heaving crests of her gourd-like tits, crimson-tipped and trembling with each slight movement of her body to her waist as if swept into its neat twenty-five inches to whip voluptuously out to her full, sensual hips. She turned slightly so that she could see the reflection of her pouting ass, hard and high as the cheeks flung up in full, palpitating hemispheres of creamy glory from her plump, scintillating thighs.
She turned again full on to the mirror, her eyes narrowed and a pulse deep in her belly throbbed as she gazed at the dark glory of her full pubic hair where it swept down from its severely horizontal line halfway to her navel into the V that ended where it dipped between her hot thighs to clothe the lips of her warm secret place with its crisp silkiness.
She ran her hand over the springy hair. It yielded to her touch like spring grass and she slid her middle finger down the center of the V and ran the tip of it between the lips, parting them and pressing the tiny dome of her clit until an erotic flush warmed her to wait for fuller pleasures to come. The boy, doing it like that would give her many more thrills.
She picked up her bra and held it before her by its-straps. Leaning forward slightly she allowed her lovely tits to sink into the gossamer cups.
Firmly captured, they thrust out hard and high as she delicately fastened the bra behind her straight back. In her underwear, she looked like a whore, which was just the effect she wanted.
She placed her hands beneath her tits and smiled as she gazed at their fullness. Briefly her thumbs caressed her nipples. They stiffened.
She picked up her panties. She looked at them for a moment and then nestled her cheek against them, thrilling to their silkiness.
Positioning delicately on the ball of one foot she slid one alabaster leg into the panties. She swallowed hard at the hissing of the silk as it slid over her flesh. Then she put the other leg through and wriggled them sensually over her flaring hips and settled them carefully about her lovely bottom, pulling the impudent silk at her crotch away from its saucy nesting place within the pouting lips of her throbbing cunt. She would have loved to masturbate just then!
She smoothed the panties where they clung, sheer and lovely, to her rounded belly and patted springy hair where it slightly bulged the silk at her crotch. If only she had the time!
"You do," she murmured, not quite certain whether she referred to her cunt or her panties.
She sat down on the stool before the dressing table. Then she took the stockings from the table and thrust her slim white arms into one of them. She carefully rolled it and then stretched out one slender leg. If the boy could see her now, how hard his cock would be!
As she slowly rolled the stockings up her leg a slight movement of her panties showed a few errant, glossy black curls against the bright whiteness of her thigh, peeking out from the elastic.
She smoothed the stocking up her shapely calf and snuggled it to her luscious thigh, stroking the sheer nylon with both hands to the top. She put on the other stocking and then stood and deftly wriggled into the black garter belt and, after a moment's hesitation, slipped the straps inside her panties. This, she decided, would help the hasty removal of her panties if the occasion warranted.
With leisurely movements she hooked the garter to the stocking tops and stood to survey the result. Then she put her hands between her thighs and stroked herself sensually to her crotch. Her eyes sparkled as she thought of the result all this would have on her young lover-to-be. It made her wet down there just to think of it.
Satisfied with her bare look, she moved back to the closet and took out the dress that she had selected.
It was a high fashion model that she had purchased in New York the spring before. It was in pale blue chiffon with a wide, fully flared skirt and a very low neckline. She also selected another of white, heavy satin with an elaborate neckline, but changed her mind.
She threw her dress over a chair and slipped into her new slip, her tits dancing deliciously in the confines of the black bra as she wiggled it up her shapely body.
Barbi adjusted the garter belt over her hips with care and then slipped the dress over her head, and with difficulty, zipped it up at the back. Lovely, but sexy, too.
The designers aren't capable of designing a dress that can't use a man in putting it on, she thought. But maybe that was why they did it. A touch to a back, and one thing could lead to another, like bed.
She smoothed and patted the dress and adjusted her tits in the bra to get maximum out in glorious abandon. A woman with big tits should flaunt it, she felt.
When this was settled to her satisfaction, she arranged the dress so that an inch or so of thigh showed beneath the dress. This, she had found, was definitely a sexy signal, if he didn't pick the other up.
She took the better part of ten minutes doing her hair and braided it across the top with a white ribbon, to look as youthful as possible. She felt this gave a touch of simplicity to the ensemble she wore. The next thing was to choose shoes. She decided upon a pair of high-heeled shoes in fabric with tiny buckles that drew attention, as if a device were needed, to her lovely legs. Some men, after all, had a thing for shoes.
She ground the heels into the soft carpet as she turned gracefully, swirling the dress high so that her gleaming white thighs, pinched deliciously by the tightness of the stocking tops, flashed and scintillated in the bright light from her dressing table.
From her jewel box she took a thick rope of pearls. She smiled as she wound them around her long slender neck. Wasn't this really all too much for such a young boy?
They had been a wedding present from Tom. He would die if he knew they were part of a seduction of a young boy!
Yes, pearls were the thing, though. They were almost innocent. Although she made no claim to understand what attracted a man any more than any other woman she had noticed how they set off the deep, shadowy chasm between her tits when she leaned forward and the soft gray of the pearls flashed dully against the creaminess of the tit flesh. How delicious it would be when he sucked them!
In deference to an emotion she couldn't define, she took off her wedding ring and in its place put a ring with a small, somewhat yellow, solitaire diamond. A tiny gold wristlet watch set off the delicate slenderness of her wrist. She surveyed herself again in the mirror, bending forward to pat a stray gray hair into place. Again she wished she had time to masturbate!
Her eyes moved to the neckline of her dress to where her tits, bulged by her position, thrust in creamy folds from the tightness of the black bra. She stroked the necklace of pearls and held it between the cleft between her tits. They felt warm and voluptuous, she wondered whether she subconsciously associated them with the hot wad fresh from a pulsing penis. To have a boy come between her tits! What a hot idea!
She smiled at the thought and looked at her watch. It was just eight-thirty. She put off the light and walked to the door. She could hardly wait. As she went slowly downstairs, her heart fluttering with expectation, it reminded her of the first time a man had fucked her.
On the last stair before the hall she paused as a flood of realization swept over her. Not only was she about to do something perverted, but she felt like she was going to come at any second and the boy wasn't there yet.
She looked down at her outfit and her cheeks crimsoned with shame. She was actually acting like a cheap whore in an X-rated movie all set to seduce an innocent young boy with a taste already started with a batch of silly schoolgirls.
It was the excitement of the matter that brought the flush to her lovely cheek and almost sent her running back upstairs to tear off the sexy underwear and put on a housedress and come downstairs again to offer Gerry a glass of milk and really show him decent hospitality.
At the crucial moment the doorbell rang. Another second and she would have frigged herself where she stood. The blood immediately left her head and she felt her stomach turn over. It was now for real. This, if she wanted it that way, was it! Her deep, starving sexuality smothered her conscience and she walked happily across the hall to the front door.
There was nobody there. She stepped out onto the porch and looked around. There was definitely nobody there. Deep depression hit her immediately.
Puzzled, she stepped back and as she did so a bell rang again. She listened and then realized it was the rear doorbell that had rung. The kitchen door must be open, that was how she had heard it. What hell! Who the hell could it be at the back door at this time of night? The last thing she wanted was anyone but a hot prick inside her.
She walked swiftly over to the kitchen door and almost ran through the kitchen and wrenched open the back door. Her mouth opened for an angry remark that was never to be.
There, looking somewhat nervous and pale of face, stood Gerry. He looked positively good enough to eat.
She looked at him in mingled exasperation and relief. Her cunt was wet all over again.
"Oh, so it's you. Come in. Why did you use this back door?"
"Your neighbors ... "
"Never mind the neighbors. Come in."
A thought ran through her head. Why would he be worrying about the neighbors if he didn't have something dirty in mind himself?
He stepped inside the door and she closed it, locking it after him, which gave her a feeling of the true seductress. Barbi was aching to grab him right then.
Barbi walked through into the living room. He followed her, his eyes burning through her clothes.
She moved over to the fire and stood with her back to it and made a show of feeling cold. Hoping he would take the hint.
"It's rather chilly tonight," she said nervously.
"It is quite chilly outside."
He was dressed for something tonight. He wore a blue plaid jacket with a turtleneck sweater and navy pants. Luckily, quite tight.
He looked older and more competent. Her nervousness began to subside. The whole thing was beginning to assume more possible proportions, that of a real affair. A common extramarital, boring adventure. She was glad that he wore somewhat more adult clothes although she loved the look of his clean, wiry legs in his khaki shorts, so tight and high that they suggested the proximity of his fierce young sex, his virile young cock. She felt it was better for her peace of mind that he looked less the absolute juvenile.
"Well, you were right on time," she said. "Sit down and get warm. Close to me, please."
She indicated an armchair beside the fire. He smiled gratefully and sat down and stretched his hands out towards the fire that blazed in the hearth.
He looked nervous and so engrossed was she with the carnality of the whole affair that she, for a moment, overlooked the obvious cause of her nervousness and sought another. It came as a revelation when she realized the root cause of his tension.
He had turned away from her and shoved his hand in his pants to stroke and hopefully soothe his poor, aching erection. Then he blushed.
It was obviously because he was very conscious that she had caught him playing with himself. It showed just how far gone she was not to have realized that this excitement and tension would exist in her. She realized it even before he came to her door. But her own erotic fantasies of his doing precisely the same thing had made it become a realization of her dream, almost a justification of it!
She walked sensuously over to the sofa that stood on the other side of the fireplace and sat down on it. She curled her beautiful legs beneath her, with just a slight flash of her thighs and folded her hands demurely in her lap. She was very conscious that her breasts were high above the neckline of the dress and her neckline felt heavy and warm and sensual as it rested on the hard flesh.
"Have your friends arrived?" she asked.
"All of them. They're settling in now."
"Suitably segregated?" she smiled, mischievously.
More of Gerry's tenseness slipped away from him.
"Oh, yes!" he smiled.
"Tell me, do you really have no trouble convincing your parents that there is nothing wrong in you all camping together like this?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Not a lot of trouble. Sometimes a girl's father doesn't think much of it. It's usually the mothers that complain about the boys!"
"I should think so, too!" Barbi said, instantly realizing how really hypocritical this essay into attempting to screw with a juvenile was making her.
"I hope I didn't give you an impression that we were really a lot of young immigrants," he said. "I mean, We are sharp, but that's about all there is to it."
"I can see that you, personally, are a boy who knows how to behave."
Then she stared differently at his hard-on.
His face turned scarlet and he buried it in his hands. She could have bitten her tongue out for having been so careless. She got up from the sofa and went swiftly over to him and bent to put her arm around his shoulders. His body seemed to ache with desire for her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'd forgotten, well, that boys get excited so easily."
He looked up to her face but only to immediately avert his eyes, to the delicious, creamy, deeply shadowed chasm between her hot tits! As soon as he did, his cock got even harder and started to ache in his pants. He would have given anything to be able to whip it out.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"What for?"
"For what I was doing. For what I was doing when I went back to the tent. Oh, Mrs. Wallace, I am so sorry. I was jerking off while dreaming about you.
Barbi felt a flood of disgust with herself. She shook him gently by the shoulder.
"Don't feel like that," she consoled him.
"You're a boy, and, well, boys are sometimes like that. In fact, most often like that. Girls are the same, too, you know."
As soon as she had said this she was sorry, although why she should be was beyond her.
Was turning him on what she really wanted?
He stared at her.
"You don't mind?"
"Why should I mind?" she asked.
A subtle, madly provocative thought occurred to her. She hesitated the briefest moment before posing it in a question. She hesitated and was lost! The temptation was too great.
"Why were you doing it?" she asked.
He turned his head and was silent. He didn't want to say.
Cruelly she shook his shoulder to stir him to reply. She needed to know just how hot he was for her.
"Why?" she asked; softly.
"Oh, please."
"I want to know," she insisted, every nerve of her body rippling with excitement.
"I can't tell you," he groaned.
"Why not? Is it something you're ashamed of?" her hands were squeezing his shoulder, lovingly.
"Yes! Yes! It is something I'm ashamed of."
"Do you mean you're ashamed of what you were actually doing?" she asked.
"No! Well, I'm ashamed of that, too."
"Too?"
She bent her head close to his. The delicate perfume she was using was heady to his senses.
"You mean you are ashamed of the reason you were jerking off?"
He nodded wordlessly.
"What was the reason that you did it?" she insisted softly.
"Oh, please, don't talk about it."
There was a long silence while she gathered her courage for the leading question.
"Was it because of anything I did?" she asked at last.
Her heart thumped as she awaited her reply.
"No!" he cried violently.
She felt a severe stab of disappointment which swiftly changed to impatience. He obviously had considered her display of her body in the street and didn't consider that she had been deliberately trying to entice him so he would ask her to fuck her.
She tried again. "I was in no way connected with what you were doing when I came back to the tent?"
"No, well, you see, no!" he broke of confusedly. "I beat my meat all the time."
"I can't help feeling," she said, cunningly, "that I was in some way connected with it this time."
"Oh, you weren't, you weren't!" Gerry cried. "It's just that I'm a little bastard. I love having a hard-on and I love to play with it. I can't help myself."
Her heart went out to him.
"You mustn't say that," she whispered, putting her arm fully around his shoulders.
Her lips were very loose to his hair. It smelled of scented soap. She resisted the temptation to kiss his fair hair, to put her hand in his lap.
She tried not to be vulgar but the excitement of the situation and her frantic and unnatural desire for him drove her beyond the limits of her ability to reason. She just had to have his cock!
"Gerry, I want you to answer a question honestly. Will you do that?"
"I'll try," he replied, looking up at her.
The look he gave her made her turn away momentarily. It was a look of sheer adoration. She knew of a certainty then that if she went any further she had irrevocably burned her bridges behind her. Her hesitation was brief. All the signals were go!
"Were you masturbating yourself because of anything I did?" she asked him slowly, savoring each word and reveling in the intimacy and sensuality of the word masturbating.
"No!" he moaned.
"Are you sure? It wasn't because I was careless when I saw you in the street and showed much more of my thighs than I should have?"
He closed his eyes but shook his head grimly.
"It was because of that, wasn't it?" she persisted.
"Mrs. Wallace!" he groaned. "Please don't!"
She was making him crazy to beat his meat right in front of her and he was ashamed of the urge.
Her voice was a silky purr, all caution was now abandoned.
You beat your meat because you saw my thighs almost up to my panties, didn't you?"
He lowered his head.
"I don't know why I did it," he whispered. "But when you left I felt terrible. I just had to do it."
"Do you think it was so terribly wrong?" she asked.
He stared at her. "Of course it was wrong," he replied.
She shrugged and his eyes flickered over her tits as they jutted tantalizingly at the movement.
"You're not the first man to feel like that about a woman's legs. That's nature, Gerry. If it can happen that the woman and the man can, well, become friends, then that is what usually happens. If there is some reason why they can't become friends. . "she shrugged again, "in that case I can't see that it's terribly wrong for the man to relieve himself."
"Then you aren't disgusted with me?" he asked, in astonishment.
She smiled, her lovely face glowing with contentment. He was all hers.
"No, I'm in no way upset with you."
She bent close to him, her sweet breath hot on his flushed face. Her mouth watered for him.
"In fact, I think you've rather flattered me!"
She moved over casually to the sofa and sat down, hiking her skirt to show off her sexy legs.
"Yes, I think that's true. I'm flattered. After all, isn't it natural that a woman should be flattered to know that by just showing her silly old legs ... " she flicked her skirt high so that he had a momentary vision of her thighs again all the way to her panties, "like this she can drive a man to wanting to play with himself?"
"But I'm not a man!" he wailed.
"Don't think I'm being sarcastic," she smiled, "but what you had in your hand when
I looked just before looked very manly indeed!"
"You mean you don't think that what I was doing was wrong, that it was dirty!"
She winced and closed her eyes at his use of this word so adolescent in that context. How could she explain that his jerking off actually turned her on? She found herself wishing she could do it for him.
"No, I don't think it was wrong," she said. "I don't want it to make you feel guilty. Men are funny creatures, boys are, too. Men and boys have got to have satisfaction in these things. They need sexual stimulation as much as they need food. Women do, too."
She hoped he would notice and even perhaps remark on her emphasis. Barbi wished that she had the nerve to show him with her own two hands.
"You don't mean that a girl ... " His voice trailed away into silence.
"That a girl might play with herself if she was excited by a boy and couldn't do anything about it? Well, I can tell you the answer to that. It's nice, yes, I know, Gerry, because I've done it."
CHAPTER SIX
His eyes almost seemed to pop out of his head as he listened to her confession, made doubly believable and so much more attractive by the way she stared down at his hard-on as she spoke!
"You have?" he gasped.
"It was a long time ago," she said hotly.
If only she could get up the nerve to tell him that she had been writhing only the previous night with her fingers deep in her cunt while she made vivid pictures in her imagination to herself of being raped by him!
Instead, she added, "I wasn't shocked when I saw what you were doing in your pants a while back. I was a little hurt. It seemed to so sad."
"Sad?" he asked.
"Yes, sad. There must be so many horny girls around who would be very upset to think that you had to do that, too, well, to relieve yourself, when you could have had a nice cunt."
Her attitude to what he had thought to be a dirty thing was reassuring him.
"Oh, I know that!" he grinned. "I once had a girl who did it to me. I hardly knew what she was doing when she did it, but she knew all right. She was very good with her hands."
"Really?" she asked.
She shifted her position slightly as she formulated the next part of her campaign.
At the very least, she knew he would want her to jerk him off.
"By the way," she started off, "you seem such a long way off sitting over there. Come and sit beside me here."
She patted the sofa beside her.
Gerry obeyed quickly and smiling.
"Yes, and it's not girls of your own age who might think it was such a waste of spunk to do such wonderful masturbation all by yourself. Older girls, one might say women, they might think the same."
It was this remark that first gave Gerry the slightest inkling that Barbi's interest in his sexual activities had anything but a strictly scientific interest. He looked at he: in amazement and wonder, not by any means fully understanding, but now vaguely aware that her interest in him was a little more than he could have reasonably hoped for. It excited him wildly.
He, in turn, chanced a remark. He didn't chance it to make a serious attempt to turn their relationship into a fucking one but for a sort of teasing, boyish reason, just to be sharp in the presence of a beautiful woman. If anything more came of it, he would be lucky.
"Do you think it was a waste?" he asked.
He wasn't even half prepared for her reply. Something inside her seemed to tense and snap exhilarating. For sure it was hot for her now.
"Yes," she breathed, "I do think it was a waste. All that hot sticky cream just to be caught on your pants! Oh, I know what boys do when they play with themselves! I bet you wouldn't show me how you do it out in the open."
He looked at her, his face stupid with amazement. She moved closer to him, ready for the kill.
"Jerking yourself off like that, I think it's exciting. Do you like doing it?"
"Yes, at "least, sometimes," he gasped.
"Isn't it better if you do it with a girl?" She stroked his face softly. "Or even go further?"
"I-I-"
She leaned away from him and looked down at her trembling hands. Barbi felt like the arch seductress.
"Don't tell me you've never really screwed a girl. You almost told me you had when we first met. I remember, if you don't."
"Well, I have and I haven't," he said slowly.
"What do you mean?" she snapped. "You have and you haven't? You either have or haven't."
"Well, I've, oh, I can't say it. Not to you!"
She smiled and sidled up to him.
"Do you mean that you haven't made love to them in a bed?"
"Well, something like that."
"How far did you go? Did you take their panties down? Did you get your hand in there?"
"Oh, yes!"
"like that, eh! You sound as if you're in the habit of going into the panties of every girl you meet!"
"Well, that isn't much, is it!" She looked at him. "In some circles, yes," she smiled.
"We don't think much of that. We do that all the time when we're petting," he said.
"What a happy circle you move in!" she continued. "People I know, Gerry, if they take a girl's panties off and she's got to let them do what they want. Even if it means fucking."
"I know that's so with grownups. It's dangerous for us, though."
There was a long silence. When she spoke her voice was silky with barely concealed passion.
"I know that if I let you pull my panties down, Gerry, I would want you to do more than pet me. You'd have to let all that lovely cream you wasted on yourself go right up into my hole, Gerry."
His jaw literally sagged, and his cock sprang up higher.
"Mrs. Wallace!" he gasped.
"Why don't you just call me Barbi?" she said. "We're friends, aren't we? We're talking about strange things for people who are not friends, otherwise."
She rested her hand on his lap. There was a fraction of a second of tense silence. Then she drew her hand away as if stung. Her eyes glittered into his. She could feel how close he was to coming.
"Again?" she laughed.
He wriggled uncomfortably, his hard-on stirring in his pants, and she laughed aloud, throwing herself back full-length on the sofa and tucking a pair of cushions behind her head. Her skirt was very disarranged and her legs showed to halfway up her thigh.
"Well?" she asked.
"Do you mean-" his voice faltered.
"Aren't you going to at least kiss me?" she laughed.
He licked his dry lips and looked at her doubtfully. She threw open her lovely arms. "Come on over into my arms!" she teased.
He moved along the sofa. Her legs were in his way and he felt like a damn fool.
"Get off the sofa, silly!" she said. "Kneel beside me on the floor. Then you can bend over me and do what you want. You can do exactly what you want, Gerry, with any part of my body."
The boy did as he was bid. He was so excited that he was actually going to shoot in her.
Barbi put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down toward her.
"Sexy mouth you've got, you stud," she murmured.
She crushed her lips madly to his and held him in a passionate embrace for almost a minute. His hard prick throbbed against her.
When she released him the wild look in his eyes told her that her technique had made its mark. She could hardly wait to go even further.
"Kiss me yourself, now," she told him. "And you make sure you do it at least as well as when you're kissing those little girls in one of your petting parties."
He grinned mischievously and seized her roughly and expertly in his arms. Just as his lips were about to meet hers the smile faded from his face.
"Oh," he gasped, "what about Mr. Wallace?"
"He's a thousand miles away, you silly thing," she cried. "Kiss me, oh, kiss me all over!"
His lips sank down on to hers. She wound her arms tightly about his neck. Suddenly she forced his lips apart and sent her pert tongue darting deeply into his mouth in a passionate tongue kiss. He writhed momentarily in her grasp and then surrendered fully to the delight of the sensation, even responding to it with a lustiness that spoke well for his future ability to learn. She really meant heavy stuff!
She smothered his young face with kisses, making him giggle as she kissed his neck. Then, with a sudden flash of deep sexuality, she pulled his head down on to her tits, now naked to within an inch or so of her nipples.
"There," she said, "do you like it there?"
His face was warm and smooth to her throbbing tits. Poor, hairless, innocent young thing, she thought. He would become a man tonight!
She stiffened as his hp sought the crevice between her lovely tits, then she was herself.
"That's it, darling," she murmured. "Kiss me there. That does even more for me than seeing my legs does for you!"
She held his tousled young head down onto her plump, lush bosom.
"Aren't they big?" he whispered.
"Shush, to you!" she cried. "Be romantic! Tell me they're lovely and round and firm and warm and that kissing them drives you crazy!"
"It does drive me insane!" panted the boy, smothering them with kisses.
"The dress unzips at the back," she whispered.
He fumbled, His hands were shaking badly. "Where?"
"At the back and please hurry."
She arched her back and after a moment or so of fumbling he found it and slowly unzipped her dress to the upper line of her hips.
"That'll make it easier," she said.
She waited, expecting him to ease the dress down over her shoulders and thus uncover her tits. It turned out to be too much, too soon. In his inexperience he hesitated, looking into her eyes for permission, he seemed frightened.
She smiled and stroked his face. "I'm all yours tonight, Gerry," she said. "All yours to do whatever you want. Anything you've ever dreamed of doing to a girl I want you to do with me tonight."
Still he hesitated and it was some moments before he shyly cupped her quivering breasts, still in her dress, in his hand. She closed her eyes with impatience as he almost immediately withdrew his hand.
"Gerry, when I looked back there and caught you masturbating yourself, what were you thinking of then?" she asked, abruptly.
"Of you," he replied simply.
"Of what about me?"
"Of how you looked, of how you smelled. You were using a different scent then, weren't you?"
"I wasn't in front of a warm fire being undressed by a sexy young man then. As you were masturbating, what were you thinking about?"
"Oh, about your thighs. I saw your panties." This last came in a rush of confession. He blushed.
"Do you want to see them again?" she asked.
He nodded wordlessly. It was too good to be true.
"Then, you must be brave. Do nice things to me. You mustn't be nervous. You must do to me whatever you imagined you were doing to me while you were rubbing your lovely hard ock all by yourself back before."
"Oh, you don't know what I was thinking?"
"Tell me!"
"I can't!"
"Were the things you were thinking so terrible? I bet they weren't really."
Gerry licked his lips. His chin resting lightly on her chest, he looked up at her.
"I imagined that I'd had my hand up your clothes," he breathed.
"Yes?" she whispered, moving her warm tit across his face.
"I was touching your panties!" he breathed.
"Go on."
"Inside them!" Gerry cried, flinching as if expecting a smack across the face.
"It's almost as if I can feel you actually doing it now!" Barbi said, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back.
Her body was incredibly hot. She wished she could just tear the clothes right off him.
"Really! Do you mean it?" the boy cried. "I do, I do!"
"Well, I was touching your cock. I put my finger on the tip and tickled it."
"You haven't yet, but you will!"
"Everything I did you wanted me to do. That was important in my imagination."
"What else?"
"These were bare."
Softly he ran his hand over her jutting tits. She shuddered with ecstasy at his touch. "And they will be," she promised. "I was kissing them."
"Oh, show me how!"
He lowered his head and brushed her tits where they thrust creamy mounds from the now slack neckline of her dress.
"Gerry," she breathed. "Undress me! In the name of heaven, undress me and fast!"
His trembling hands fumbled at the shoulders of her dress and she assisted by wriggling her arms and slowly he was able to ease the lovely fabric down over her sloping shoulders.
A bubbling sigh of excitement passed his parted lips as the neckline of the dress slid over her rearing, brassiered tits.
"Oh, they're beautiful!" he gasped.
"Be patient! You're about to rip the clothes right off me," she smiled.
She sat up and raised her arm to allow him to slip the dress down her slender waist. She wriggled and it was a frothy heap of red around her haunches! Delicately she slipped her legs over the edge of the sofa and stood up. Gerry was still kneeling at her feet.
"Well, pull it, you silly kid!" she cried, moving her lips and sending the skirt of the dress fluttering around his crimson face.
He put his hands to her hips. Slowly, voluptuously and as if he was consciously drawing the pleasures of the movement out to its last bit of delight, he pulled the dress down. It clung to her shapely ass as if reluctant to leave the hard, heaving surface.
He tugged to free them from the lovely flesh and the fabric slithered down her tapered thighs in an exotic rustle and lay in a tumbled heap about her feet.
Her cunt now was level with his face. He gazed in awe at the suggestive bulge of her hair and at the gleaming whiteness of her thighs, a striking contrast to the dullness of the little stocking tops.
Gerry suddenly threw his arms around her ass and pulled her violently toward him and buried his burning face between her cool thighs. She opened them slightly for a moment and then quickly closed them, holding his face between them while, with her head thrown back, she tensed every nerve to stop herself spilling her burning come.
"Oh, my darling!" she murmured, ruffling his hair with her hands.
"You're so lovely!" he groaned, nuzzling his lips against her thighs midway between her stocking and her cunt. "Oh, I could bite you!"
"Nibble me!" she laughed.
He played with the hard plumpness of her inner thigh with his strong, young teeth. She moaned in ecstasy and pulled his head against her thighs and worked " them against his cheekbones.
"Oh, you'll make me come!" she screamed. "Stop it!"
He did, as if she had really meant what she said. The boy was still so innocent.
She sat down on the sofa, shuddering with passion. His eyes smoldered as they sought the lush folds of creamy flesh that fell out from her bra. Her nipples were erect now and dimpled out the transparent lace of the bra into twin thimbles.
He sat on his haunches and gazed up at her. She looked at him for a minute and then reached forward and pulled his jacket down over his shoulders.
"Take that off. At least!" she whispered.
He quickly did that. As happy to be free of extra clothing as she was. She stroked his shoulders and fingered the back of his neck. He was so cuddly!
"It doesn't seem fair," she pouted, "that I'm here half naked and you're all dressed up like that. Here, let me do something for you."
She moved forward to the edge of the sofa. His prick was like an iron bar within his pants as his eyes caught a glimpse of her cunt hair at the edge of her skimpy panties.
"You're so lovely," he whispered.
"We're both lovely in that case," she replied, untying his tie.
Barbi opened his shirt with trembling fingers. She slipped her cool hand down inside his shirt. He wore no T-shirt and her hand briefly caressed his hairless chest.
"They're nothing like yours!" he grinned.
"Thank goodness," she said.
He wore a long shirt and she pulled it slowly from the top of his belted trousers. Gerry bent forward to allow her to pull the shirt from him. She tossed it aside and, hands on his shoulders, surveyed him.
"Oh, what you do to me!" she breathed. "I am so hungry for you."
His body, white and hard, looked very young and even strange to her without the muscle formations of maturity.
There was something else unusual about his chest, too. Of course! He was hairless! She smiled and violently hugged him to her tits. She smiled and violently hugged him to her tits. She kissed the top of his head, reveling in the clean, young smell of his hair, and then bent over her lap and began smothering his chest and arms with kisses, kissing him even up into his hairless armpits.
Barbi felt his hand at her left breast, cupping it with a feverish and exultant motion. She raised him from her lap. As his head came up she felt his hot breath on her thighs and she had a sudden almost overwhelming desire to rebury his head in her lap, forcing his mouth to seek out the hotness of her gash and whip her clit to a raging fury with his tongue.
The maxim 'All in good time' gave some patience to her actions.
"Take off my bra," she smiled.
He swallowed hard and put his hand to the front of it as if he would move the cups up over the heavy mounds that way. He had never actually done it.
"It undoes at the back, silly!" she muttered.
Gerry groped inexpertly at the back. The clasp parted. He gave a small cry of wonder as her tits heaved aside the filmy confines of the bra and stood forth, jutting and trembling like two white globes of well set vanilla pudding.
She smiled as she looked at his eyes. They were wide and blazing with excitement as he drank in the glory of the luxurious spheres as they stood out, firm and undrooping, beneath the black bra which now just hung from the shoulder straps.
Without saying a word he slipped the straps down her arms. It was strange but he was starting to feel more manly already.
Still he was momentarily overwhelmed by the gorgeous sight of her.
He dropped the bra on the floor and just stared at her tits.
Barbi laughed, and her tits juggled madly, gourds of cream surmounted by the lush cherries of her dull red nipples.
She pulled him to her again. He cupped one tit in his hand and washed the other with feverish kisses. Barbi stiffened as she felt his lips close over her nipple and flinched as his teeth gently gnawed its erect hardness. This was more than she could have hoped for.
His hand was meanwhile investigating the joys of the other tit. He weighed it and cupped it, letting the nipple sear the palm of his hand and then rolling it between his finger and thumb. Always again he returned to weigh it, raising it and then letting it again sink, as if amazed at the solidness of it.
Barbi felt his head hard to her, so that he could only breathe the soft scent of her tits and all the time her cunt pulsed with its longing to be filled with the throb of his burning young cock.
At last she raised his head and kissed him passionately on the lips, letting her tongue run around just inside his eager mouth. They were making progress now.
"You love my titties," she said, "but when you were playing with yourself it wasn't them you were thinking about. Take my panties down, darling!"
He leaned back while she stood up and looked at her in wonder, as if he scarcely believed that these wonders were happening to him. No girl he ever knew had a pair of jugs like the ones he was staring at now.
She nodded and smiled encouragement. In fact, she did everything but push her tit in his mouth.
"Pull them down, pull my panties right down. Then, everything you can see is yours!"
He dipped his fingers into the tops of her panties at either hip. For a second he had stage fright.
He swallowed once and then, his eyes fixed on the triangle of her bush which showed through the transparent panties, slipped them down her tapering, quivering thighs. The woman shuddered.
The soft, sensual sound of the silk lace sliding down the flesh of her thighs and then the sound of her stockinged lower legs was a sound he was destined never to forget. It was such a new thrill to him.
Gerry held her panties at a position just below her knees, the tops of them gripped so tightly that his knuckles showed white against the dead blackness of the material. His eyes burned as he absorbed the dark V slash of her cunt where it swept to the little crevice between her now-clenched thighs.
Barbi had closed her thighs because she knew that if he but so much as touched her there an immediate torrent of love juice would lessen for a time the delicious torment that she was now so willingly enduring!
From his position, his face was hardly six inches from her pussy, he could see every hair, every luxurious curl that clustered and made exciting the sweet mystery of what lay beneath.
He suddenly dropped his hands from her panties and swept them behind her, driving his hands fiercely into the burning chasm between her bottom cheeks and pulling them apart and bringing her towards him.
She moaned in torment as the edges of his hand sank into her bottom, tipping the puckered, pleated ring there and sending waves of tantalizing fury through every nerve of her body. Barbi looked down at his face as he buried his lips in the fur of her pussy, filling his mouth with the crisp curls and his chin hard on the soft plumpness of her beautiful mound.
"Let me step out of my panties, darling," she breathed. "I want to spread my legs for you."
He released her for a moment and she shook her hips. Her tits danced like mad white jellies and her panties slipped down, drenching her feet in a little wash of black, lacy foam.
She sat down again on the sofa, letting her legs fall apart. Gerry still sat at her feet, his eyes riveted on the new sight the parting of her thighs had offered to his gaze. He had never seen anything more beautiful.
There, nestling deep in the clustered curls, was the pink gash of her luscious cunt. Framed by the black hair of her triangle on the full-clefted curve of her plump bottom cheeks on the lower side, it pouted prettily, the lips parted just enough to show the glistening moistness of the softness within.
"There it is," she said. "What were you thinking of when you played with yourself. Look at it! What do you want to do with it now that it's yours?"
She put the first two fingers of her right hand between her thighs. He watched her, fascinated. Was she going to show him how girls masturbate?
She gently parted the lips of her vagina so that he could see further into its pink softness. With the forefinger of her other hand she softly tippled the tiny erect clitoris that sprang like a fairy pink acorn just inside the top of her slit.
"That's where it's nice to be touched," she said.
He stretched out his hand. But she stopped him before he got a handful.
"Later," she said. "I want to see more of you, first!"
Barbi sat up on the sofa and reached towards his belt. She fumbled with it for a moment and felt silly.
"It's as bad as my bra!" she laughed.
He helped her though and the belt fell to the floor.
"Stand up," she told him.
He stood up somewhat shakily and she began to unzip his pants, but it wasn't easy as they were distorted by the jut of his horn. She grasped it through the cloth of the pants and moaned with exciting pleasure. She smiled sensually as she felt him leap into rigidity. By then his pants were undone to the bottom, but Barbi held them up for a moment. She looked up into his eyes to tease him and then, with a swift movement, tore them down his slim legs.
"Oh, isn't it a beauty!" she gasped.
His prick jutted from the slit in his shorts like a long white bar of ivory, round and strongly curved, his knob a splash of crimson that showed off the virgin whiteness of the steam itself to exciting advantage. Her eyes blazed with longing.
"I better not touch it," she breathed, "or I'll put it in my mouth and suck you till your balls are empty."
"Oh, Barbi, I'll shoot a wad if you talk like that," he cried.
"Don't you dare," she warned him.
Carefully then, she pulled the elastic of his shorts away from his belly. Slowly she pulled them down, making certain that his quivering cock cleared the slit and the rest of the short. She swiftly cleared them down his leg and he stepped out of them. Now she ran her hands down the outside of his thighs.
"I have always thought a prick looked nice sticking from under a shirt," she said.
She slipped her hands between his thighs and gently parted them. It was too great a moment to be rushed.
The backs of her hands slowly moved up his thighs until they were near his tight balls. Suddenly she cupped them in her hands and he quivered into rigidity. Barbi moved his shirt aside and looked at his trembling cock.
"You've got a little bit of hair!" she smiled.
He looked down at his sparse bush and blushed.
"It's not bad, really. Some of the boys haven't got as much."
"I love every hair there," she said, putting her hand on his cock, gently bending it down and kissing the soft hair above it.
Her hand still cupped his balls. She bounced them in her palm.
"Aren't they full? Do they get soft when your spunk comes out? Because I know how to fill them up again."
He nodded.
"Just a little. I'm frightened it'll come out now if you're not careful."
"Will it come out if I kiss it?"
"If you kiss it?" he gasped, incredulously.
She didn't reply. Instead she lowered her lips to the red knob of the delicately curved penis. She opened them and took his prick firmly in her hand. Then, with a sudden movement, she took his hard prick deep in her mouth, her tongue laving his knob with burning caresses. With it she succeeded in revealing the swollen smoothness of the knob and the ridge at its base.
She toyed with it like that for a few moments until a fixity of gaze and shuddering warned her to be careful. Barbi couldn't dare waste his come.
"Put it in me, darling!" she cried.
He awkwardly lowered himself until his belly touched hers. Barbi writhed as she felt the warm touch of his balls on her inner thighs.
She slipped her hand between her thighs and took his hard, white cock to the hair-bound lips of her quim.
Now she rubbed the knob up and down the length of her gash for a moment and then carefully inserted him.
He lay poised for a moment, merely knob-deep in her, unsure if he could do a decent job of fucking him.
"Come on!" she cried, and slipped her hands around to the cheeks of his ass. An instant later she was gobbling his young cock down her throat.
The boy cried out in delight and buried his hands in her hair in a delirium of passion.
"Oh, Barbi, it'll come in your mouth!"
"Don't let it," she mumbled, his knob still between her lips. I want it up my twat for that."
"Oh, I'll try not to, but it won't be easy."
But as a precaution against this she contented herself with gently running her tongue over his crimson helmet while her hand kneaded his tight scrotum.
Suddenly she could bear it no longer. With a sharp cry she flung herself down on to the thick rug before the fire. Barbi was sure she made an entrancing picture lying there in her abandon, naked but for the garter belt that still encircled her waist and her stockings which still sheathed her shapely legs. She flung her knees up and opened her thighs wide.
"Come on!" she ground out from between clenched teeth. Shove it into me, stud. Shove it into me!"
Gerry didn't hesitate.
He moved over her hands and she caught him behind the knees.
They buckled and he fell beside her. Her hand worked over his stiffness savoring its hardness and its burning warmth.
"Get on top of me," she whispered.
He obeyed.
Gerry straddled her, a knee on either side of her. Now he was poised above her, his cock jutting up along the line of his flat belly.
Barbi helped him to be suitably inspired.
She took his cock in her hand and pressed the skin back over his mount.
"Isn't a cock terrific!" she gasped. "I always think it's prettier than a woman's sex!"
"I don't!" he said promptly.
She smiled and pressed the skin even further back on his penis and his eyes closed in ecstasy as he felt the burning drag of her twat on his throbbing knob. She had him shoving it to her now.
He drew it out again, instinctively allowing the end to work against her clit, and then plunged it in again till the very root of it was pressed into the gaping lips of her cunt, while his balls swung and smacked on her pouting ass cheeks.
"Oh, that's it," she shrieked. "Pull it out and work it against my lips."
He did as he was bid and was rewarded by the disturbing result of being only barely able to keep his cock in her, writhing and plunging and twisting as she was.
Gerry took the hardness of his knob almost out of her, then pushed it against the top apex of her lips and tormented her helmet of her clit with little pushes and stabs.
"Oh, where did you learn this, you little devil?" she cried, writhing and bucking under the treatment.
"The girls like it when I screw them like this, so I thought."
"Go on!" she yelped, driving her hot sheath up over his white hardness.
She was frantic that his lack of experience would bring an early orgasm. This, however, was sheer anxiety because he quickly proved he could manage very well.
She reached around his ass and pressed him down oh to her. Her thighs were wide and for a moment he sank right between them, deeper than before.
He cried out as his penis sank into the burning pink clit of his mistress, driving his foreskin back and subjecting his soft tenderness beneath it to the fiery caress of her contracting cunt walls.
She, in turn, threw back her head and a long moan of satisfied bliss dribbled from her lips as she arched to the first stroke of his long, slender lance. It was a dream come true for her.
Barbi still held his ass, keeping his prick in her, savoring every hot inch of it from his blood-gorged knob to the thick root. His balls felt like two huge hot nuts as they fell against her bottom cheeks.
"Oh, you're in me, at last!" she cried. "Now, fuck me!"
He tentatively withdrew his cock until only his knob nestled between the tight wet lips of her hairy twat. Then, with a violent heave of his hips he sent his burning lance deep into her pulsing cunt.
She groaned and arched to meet the fierce thrust of him. The walls of her cunt were thrust wide as his prick reached into the hot secret depths of her ring and softly tippled her very cervix.
Barbi contracted her belly and threw her stockinged legs up and around his waist, locking her feet behind him. He groaned with pleasure.
The contraction of her belly created a fierce suction and she worried that he might shoot too soon. It was ignorance on her part for the experienced woman delights in what are commonly called "cock virgins" for the very reason that excitement, tension and inexperience all combined to delay the orgasm. And so it was with Gerry.
In and out of her writhing twat he plunged, seeking out the deep softness of her tight places and making his sparse pubic hair kiss hers on every stroke into her. He was even better than she hoped for!
Anticipating each thrust into her to a fraction of a second, she reared her ass from the rug and arched her trembling body up to meet his descending fury. Her hands tore at his shoulders and then at his hips and then at his naked buttocks.
At each stroke end when their groins kissed there was a delightful smacking sound as his hard chest slapped her luscious tits together and made him frantically conscious of her nipples, digging into him like tiny, burning, fleshy daggers!
She was beginning to approach her climax, now, although in his own excitement he was unaware of this. Moaning in her mad abandon, she flung her haunches up to meet each surging drive of his flesh, savoring every inch as it pierced her throbbing cunt like a dagger of burning flesh.
"Faster!" she screamed. "I'm coming! Make me come!"
He hardly knew what this meant, or at least, was not really capable of knowing anything except the clinging walls of her cunt, sucking at his knob like a thousand hungry mouths.
He drove his prick into her madly now, almost with a conscious desire to stab her and hurt her with each furious stroke. It made him feel like a powerful man.
She began a regular sob, still bucking her cunt up to meet the bite of his cock. Her eyes were closed and her head was thrown up and she pushed her pussy up to swallow all the prick he could offer her. Her tits slapped together and danced in a mad erotic jiggle.
The pace of their stroking had increased now until Gerry's buttocks were almost a blur as they flashed down between her writhing thighs. Then she suddenly gave a vivid scream that rang through the quiet house. It was more like a war whoop.
Startled, he momentarily paused in his stroke. But she yelled in anguish and gripped his ass, her nails sinking into the hard cheeks, and pulled him violently down onto her, causing his cock to rip into her with such violence that it seemed to stab into her very vitals.
Barbi gave a shrill scream of lust and seized his hips and worked him in and out of her for a few violent strokes, then her legs spread back to the rug. Her head fell sideways and her tits danced to her labored breathing. The moment became frantic.
"Shoot into me!" she moaned. "Come right up into me! I want to feel it all hot in me! Fill me up!"
Gerry worked himself into her all the way to his balls. The memory of the swift flush of her spunk as she had ejaculated, hot in his mind. He felt his balls tense and in a mad frenzy of movement he plunged his hot cock in and out of her burning wetness.
Suddenly he paused on an outward stroke, his knob just inside the lips of her hole. Then with a guttural sound, he sank his prick in her softness to the very hilt. Their hair kissed, his balls slapped her bottom and she reared to meet the gush of come that spurted from his rigid tool deep into the soft cavern of her nest.
She gripped his ass tightly as he furiously eased his prick in and out of her, squeezing the last of his spunk into her ravenous, dilated twat.
As his motions died in nothingness and he collapsed exhausted on her belly. She locked her hands around his buttocks. She softly wriggled her hips and her cunt soothed his burning horn with appreciative massage. After a long while they were calm enough to speak.
"Wasn't that sensational, darling?" she asked, softly.
He nodded. He couldn't talk, because he could barely breathe.
"Did you have a big come? It feels as if you did. I'm sticky with it. It's wonderful."
"Dynamite!" he panted. "I've never felt anything like it."
"Better than screwing your little girls?" she laughed.
"No comparison!" he smiled.
"I felt it come into me," she hissed. "It was like a jet of hot milk. When you take your prick out it'll come out and run down my things!"
"It'll be out in a minute," he said. "I can feel it slipping."
She held him tighter.
"I want it to stay in as long as it can. I shall feel lonely and empty when it's gone."
They kept their bodies together but slowly and regretfully his now-limp cock began to slip from the clenched, striving pussy lips of his lovely mistress. She held her thighs tight together but suddenly, with a soft sound, he slipped out of her hotness.
They smiled at each other and she kissed him passionately. Come was passing out of her.
"It even feels nice resting on my thighs!" she smiled. "Maybe it will grow again."
"I love you," he cried, kissing her madly.
"Do you?" she sighed. "I suppose I love you, or wouldn't have you lying naked on top of me with my legs wet from your love. But is it love, or do we just like fucking?"
"I love you," he repeated, kissing her hard tits and taking her nipples into his mouth and tickling them with his tongue.
She wiggled.
"I could most certainly love you," she said. "But you're young, there'll be others. I expect that it'll just be my job to teach you how to better screw those young cunts."
She kissed him.
"What would your husband say?"
She shrugged and they laughed as his balls slipped between her legs at the movement.
"Do you care what he'd say? Anyway, let's not talk about it."
"Is he cruel to you?" he asked.
"Of course not. Let's not discuss him!"
"All right, but-"
"Yes, darling?"
"I think it's getting hard again!"
She slipped her hand between them and felt his hot tool.
"Heavens, what a man! I think it is!" He blushed.
"If you play with it, it will get hard again," he said.
"Then I'll fix that right away!" she laughed.
She moved him off her and he lay beside her. then she took his warm softness in her hand and began to ease his foreskin back and forth over his knob.
"Yes, it's getting stiff again!" she cried in delight.
He smiled and dipped his finger into her wet pussy.
"Aren't you stick," he said.
"Most of it is yours," she laughed.
They played with each other for a few months, working up to the big moment.
Suddenly they were struck into rigidity by the sound of a door opening. They both sat bolt upright, Barbi's hand shot out for something to cover herself but it was too late.
There, standing in the door was Mary! Beside her stood a young boy of perhaps seventeen, dark and handsome, with a calm, insolent face and thick lips.
"Oh, no!" Mary gasped.
"Pardon us!" the boy said.
The maid was shocked, but the boy was laughing!
CHAPTER SEVEN
Barbi was vaguely conscious of screaming. "Get out!" But the next thing she remembered was getting into her dress and dazedly watching Gerry tuck his shirt into his pants.
"Oh, shit!" she cried.
"That Jim, he's a creep, too," Gerry groaned.
"Does he talk?" Barbi asked.
"Talk! He never stops!" Gerry replied, zipping up.
"Why didn't I lock all the doors!" Barbi moaned. "That would at least have given us a few moments to straighten ourselves before they came in."
Barbi was naked beneath her dress. She had stuffed her panties, her bra and slip behind the cushions on the sofa.
Mary and her escort, the unpleasant-looking Jim, had been expelled to the kitchen and Barbi realized that it was tacitly understood that some explanation would be forthcoming from her, though what there could be, other than the true explanation, was beyond her.
"What are we going to say to them?" Gerry asked.
"What can we say to them?" she asked, savagely. "They saw what we were doing."
"Did they? Did they actually see us, well, you know?"
"Actually fucking?" she snarled. "Maybe they didn't, but they did see me stroking your prick and if they could see my thighs right now they wouldn't have any doubts. I'm as stick as-" She paused, seeing his despondent face. "They're sticky and I love it!" She kissed his cheek. "Oh, well, what can't be cured, can't be cured. I suppose we'll have to face them. I think I can rely on Mary. You say this Jim is a little beast."
I
"He's girl crazy, if that's any help," Gerry snapped. "He's always in trouble with girls. One girl's father gave him a beating. He put the girl in the, well, they thought she was pregnant."
"That might help," Barbi cried. "Oh, just a minute. I'll have to put my panties on. I'm leaking gallons! Excuse me."
He watched as she slipped her panties up her exquisite, tapering thighs and snuggled them around her delicious ass. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the gleam of the light on her love thighs. She smiled and slipped a handkerchief into the crotch of the pants.
"That'll keep it in for the moment! I only hope your come isn't as strong as your horn was!"
"Yes, if what you say about Jim is true," she continued, "it may be that Mary brought him back here for just the reason that I brought you here."
"You didn't bring me here. I came myself," he said.
"That's what you think," Barbi smiled. "Well, we'd better face them."
Gerry gulped and followed her as she crossed the room to the door. Even in the stress of this situation his penis stirred as he watched the graceful sway of her full bottom as she walked across the room and as his eyes slipped down to her shapely calves, the memory of them behind his back almost overcame him.
He was close to her as she paused to open the door. He slipped the edge of his hand between her ass cheeks, and sawed it gently up and down. She stopped and turned.
"Oh, darling," she whispered, "what a mess we've made of it and we've only made love once."
She kissed him and he slipped his hand inside her dress and felt the hard hillock of her lovely tits.
"I don't care," he said. "I don't care at all. All I know is that I love you! I don't care if your husband finds out."
"We'll talk about that later," she cut him. "You'll realize that what you're saying now is absolutely insane."
She kissed him again and opened the door.
They walked across to the kitchen and she hesitated for a moment and then opened the door and went in, her head high, if not exactly proudly.
Mary was making coffee and Jim was sitting at the kitchen table drumming his fingers thoughtfully on it. Mary turned, "Oh, hello, madam."
"I'm annoyed at the way you came back tonight, Mary," Barbi said, trying to instill an honest indignation in her voice.
"I bet you are!" Jim said, roughly, from the table.
"I wasn't speaking to you," Barbi said.
"I was speaking to you," he replied.
Before she could stop him, Gerry had pushed past her and got to Jim. He grabbed him by his coat and dragged him to his feet. Gerry was at least as big as Jim and possibly heavier.
"Watch what you're saying, Jim," he hissed. "Or I'll bust you in the nose. If you can handle it just come outside."
Jim pulled himself sullenly free. "Fine way to behave when you're caught screwing around!" he sneered.
Gerry's fists came up and Jim sat himself down in the chair and put his hand in his jacket pocket.
"All right!" he snapped. "Take it easy. Your precious secret is safe with me. I won't say anything."
"You better," Mary said, "or you'll have me to deal with. And don't think I can't handle you. What I couldn't do with my hands I'll do with a hammer. And just don't think I'm kidding!"
"You're so righteous," Jim snarled. "Why did you bring me here?" Barbi looked at Mary.
Mary shrugged.
"I told you I was a sucker for these kids," Mary said. "I didn't realize what a little bastard I'd picked up, though."
"You brought him here for sex?" Barbi said.
"No, at least, I didn't intend doing anything with him here. I just asked him in for coffee."
"You'd have got something else beside coffee," Jim grinned.
"I'd have got what I wanted!" Mary snapped. "I've had real grown men try things with me. When I didn't want, I'd go home with my panties on!"
Jim seemed to make a decision. He rose to his feet.
"Look here," Jim said. "I'm a man of the world. I say good luck to Gerry here and the lady.
"Mrs. Wallace."
"To you, Mrs. Wallace. I don't care what you two have done or what else you're going to do. All I care about is myself. I picked up Mary here-"
"You what!" Mary gasped.
"Well, all right, we picked each other up. Anyway, I like a game as much as the next person and what I want to know is what are we going to do? Not just sit around and talking and having coffee, I hope!"
Barbi and Mary exchanged looks.
"This is terrible!" Barbi groaned.
"Pretty rough, isn't it?" Mary agreed. "Mrs. Wallace, why did you do it?"
It was on the tip of Barbi's tongue to say that she didn't know, but she was aware that Gerry was waiting for her reply.
"Because I wanted to," Barbi said. "Because I wanted to desperately, that's why."
"Oh," Mary said. "Oh, well, it's your business. It doesn't matter with me because I'm not married. I always thought you and Mr. Wallace were very happy together."
She poured the coffee into several cups she had arranged on the table.
"In some ways, Mr. Wallace and I are not suited to each other," Barbi offered, unhappily aware that her cheeks were crimson. "But I don't really want to discuss my husband."
Jim picked up one of the cups. "Is this sugared?"
"Help yourself," Mary said, grimly, pushing the sugar bowl.
"I see Mrs. Wallace's point of view," Jim continued, sipping coffee.
"Do you really?" Barbi said stupidly.
"Yes," Him said. "You don't want to discuss your husband. And you don't want him to find out what you've been up to. I quite see your point."
"Are you trying to be funny again?" Gerry asked belligerently.
"No, I'm not. I do see Barbi's point. Why shouldn't she have a bit of fun? She isn't the first married woman not to be satisfied with her husband."
"You know too much for your age, boy," Mary said. She looked at her mistress. "That isn't what you meant when you said that you don't get on with the master in some ways, is it?" she asked.
Barbi nodded, wishing the ground would swallow her.
"I'm afraid it's something like that," she admitted.
"Well, it's your business," Mary replied. "Can't say I'd mind if he made a pass at me. Real good-looking, I think."
"You might not be satisfied with him if he did make a pass at you, as you call it," Barbi snapped, despite herself.
Jim stood up and walked around the table. It was obvious later that this maneuver was to get the table between himself and Gerry.
"This doesn't help me," he said. "I came here for a bit of fun and run into a domestic scene. At least, that's what the Sunday papers call this sort of thing. Why can't we act grown up about this? I suggest we discuss it like sophisticated people."
Barbi looked at him. It was strange to see a boy of seventeen so poised.
"I suggest we make the best of what can be-if we're not babies-a very interesting situation," he continued, sipping coffee.
"Will you listen to him!" Mary mocked. But in admiration.
"Why don't you?" Jim asked.
"What are you going to say?" Barbi asked.
"Just that we go on as we were going to do anyway." He looked hard at Barbi. "Whatever I've seen is dead as far as I'm concerned and I don't expect any interference between her and me."
"Less of her," Mary growled. "Anyway, what makes you think I want anything else to do with you?"
"So," Jim grinned, "I just go home to my tent like a good boy?"
"That's what you'll do if I tell ya to," Mary promised.
"That, my girl, is what you think." He looked at Gerry. "You'd better watch how you behave, you idiot." He watched as Gerry made a move to round the table and added, "Because if I have any trouble with you, I promise you, may I drop dead right now. I'll see her husband knows what's been going on."
Gerry placed a hand on the table to vault it but Barbi grabbed his arm.
"Gerry!" she cried, "don't touch him!"
"I'll smash his face," Gerry roared.
"You'll smash nobody!" Jim jeered, now assured of Barbi's support. "If you touch me, her husband will find out, or I'm a woman. And there's another thing, I came up here with her for some fun. And just because you two are up to games and we catch you I should deprive myself of my fun? like hell, I'm not!"
He glared at them.
"Do you call that fair?" he continued. "You two have your fun."
"I suppose I haven't any say in the matter?" Mary asked.
"Do you want me to go? You seemed keen enough when you brought me here. Do you remember asking me if I could raise six inches? Do you remember that?"
Mary blushed.
"That's true," she chuckled. "But you've turned out to be quite a little bastard since then."
"All right!" Jim snarled. "You asked me whether you've got a say in the matter. Well, you haven't!"
"Oh, no, it'll be me throwing you out," Mary warned.
"Try it!"
"Wait a minute," Barbi said. "What are you trying to say?"
"This," Jim said. "I came all the way up here to ,get her panties down and if they don't come down, well, you'll wish you'd never met me.
"We wish that already!" Mary yelled.
"I'll kill you!" Gerry roared, lunging at Jim.
Jim whipped around the table.
"Keep him off!" he yelled to Barbi. "So help me, I'll split to your husband if you can't keep him off."
"This is blackmail," Barbi breathed, holding her hand before Gerry.
Jim nodded. "There's no other word for it. But I'm not blackmailing you. All I want is what I came here for, and that's to do to her what he's done to you." He looked at her and grinned, "But if you'd like to be blackmailed-"
Barbi cleared her mind of the last remnants of her conscience rubbish. What could she do? Did it really matter to her if this strange and terrible boy made love to Mary? She had to admit that it didn't. On the other hand did she mind if Tom found out about her affair with Gerry?
She had to admit that she did mind. Very much.
Barbi made another effort to clear her mind of the last traces of emotional prejudice. What the boy said, in essence, was fair enough. He had come to the house to make love to Mary.
Why should her having been made love to interfere with his original plan? There was no valid reason that she could think of.
She looked at Mary. It must be rather hard to expect to lay a girl like Mary and have anything come in the way. Men had plunged nations into flames over desire for a woman. It was asking rather too much of a sexy little devil like Jim to forego the pleasure of bouncing on the belly of a girl like Mary and particularly when there had been no doubt of his success, and to be interrupted by the fucking situation of another couple.
She sighed. The only real doubt she had as to what she should do was whether Jim would keep his damn mouth shut.
"You know that if you told my husband it could ruin my life and Gerry's," she told Him.
He nodded brightly, "Oh, you bet!"
"And you'd do it?"
"I certainly don't want to. Look, all I want is a bit of fun. I'll be frank. It isn't often a kid my age gets a chance at anything like you two, or Mary, anyway."
"You said two," Barbi remarked.
"Well, whether you want anything to do with me is up to you. Mary had already agreed and I think she's a doll. As I say, I don't get the chance to have anyone like her very often."
"Doesn't he say the sweetest things?" Mary said, but Barbi could see that she was scared.
"Now come on," Jim said. "Why don't we face facts and all have some fun instead of standing around here arguing with faces as long as heaven knows? Let's go in where there's a fire. It's cold in here, I can tell you."
He put his hand around Mary and cupped her left tit. She knocked it away, after a moment's pause. It seemed to Barbi that the situation was getting well out of hand, but rather than further struggle against the inevitability that events seemed to be showing she decided to try and ride her luck, to see whether or not some kind of comfortable order could be wrought out of the dangerous chaos her affair with Gerry seemed to be engulfing her in.
She closed her eyes tiredly for a moment. What a preposterous situation for the wife of a rising young lawyer to find herself in, what tragedy it could lead to, for her and Gerry.
"All right," she said at last, "let's go into the living room."
"That's better," Jim chuckled, gulping the last of his coffee.
"Nothing's better for you, as yet. And don't forget it," Mary warned.
"We'll see. Come on!"
Barbi led the way into the living room.
Almost automatically she walked over to the sideboard and poured herself a very large brandy, larger than she had ever had.
She drank half of it and turned.
"Oh," she said, "would anyone else like anything?"
Gerry shook her head. Jim walked over to her. "Wouldn't mind a glass of wine. What's this, wine?"
"Yes,"
She watched him pour out a good shot.
"There's very little you don't indulge in, is there?" she smiled despite herself.
"No! I believe in enjoying myself. We're here only once. That's the way I look at it. Don't you want anything, Mary?"
Mary looked at Barbi. "I think I'll have a drop of brandy," she said. "It's been quite an evening."
Barbi poured her one and she sipped it. She made a face. "Ugh! Don't know how people can really like this stuff."
Barbi sat on the sofa. Gerry stood awkwardly at one end of it and looked at her in miserable longing.
He could see the shadowed cleft between her tits and he was very aware that but for the interruption of the detestable Jim he would have been at some fresh love play with her.
Wait till he got this guy somewhere he could deal with without interference!
Jim sat himself a chair and regarded Barbi with approval. Gerry clenched his fists as he saw his eyes wandering from her lush calves up to where her full tits heaved out the neckline of her dress. He could have killed him when he licked his lips.
"Of course, the trouble with your generation," Jim observed, "is that they want security in everything they do. Now my generation-"
"Leave me out of this!" Gerry warned.
"Willingly, old man! The thing about most of my generation is that they've grown up to believe that the first thing to do about good-looking girls is to get them to bed. We all think the same, he does, too-" With a jerk of his thumb toward Gerry, "the difference is he does it under the phony nice-boy label. I'd be very grateful for a go at fucking while I put my cards on the table. My attitude is that if the girl's older than me she probably really digs a bit of young cock and I don't blame her and I'm always ready to oblige. Can I help myself to another drink?"
Barbi nodded.
"Isn't he wonderful?" Mary laughed. "If he's as good in bed as he is sitting in a chair talking about it, he might be worth a trial bounce, at that!"
Jim, pouring another generous measure of wine turned and grinned at her.
"There's only one way to check that!"
Barbi was heartily ashamed to admit to herself that the same thought that has struck Mary had occurred to her, too!
Jim reseated himself and crossed his legs.
"Will you look at him," Mary shouted. "He's like some old lecher talking about the girls he's laid in the last twenty years. I'd like to bet that he's had more girls in his right hand than he's ever had in bed!"
This thrust must have gone home for the smile faded from Jim's face and for the first time since his arrival in the house, Gerry's face broke into his usual grin.
"You'd win, too!" he laughed.
"All right," Jim snapped, "I suppose you two only ever go to bed to sleep. I'm not the only meat beater in this room and I'll lay odds on that."
"Can't you keep a decent tongue in your head?" Gerry asked.
"It's true. Anyway, I won't be doing it tonight."
"You hope!" Mary said.
"I know!" Jim retorted. "Come over here, gorgeous, and sit on my lap. You might learn something to your advantage, as the lawyers say!"
"I've a good mind to take him at rjis word," Mary grinned, swallowing the rest of her brandy with a shudder.
"Come on!" Jim teased, his eyes sparkling from the effects of the wine.
Mary looked at Barbi. She shrugged. "Do as you like," she said.
"I'll try him," Mary grinned, and walked over and sat on Jim's lap.
Barbi didn't know whether to be frightened, horrified, disgusted or more reasonably, resigned. If anyone had told her twenty-four hours before that she would be sitting brandy with her thighs wet from the attentions of a lover of fourteen while her maid sat on the lap of a precocious boy of seventeen while the expressed intention of investigating the quality of his erection, she would have had herself committed to a mental place.
But there-it was, there they were, sitting in her living room and even as she watched, beginning their love play. Jim's arm was around Mary and he was fondling her tits. As she bent to kiss him, Barbi rose and went over and poured herself another stiff brandy. She looked at the pair on the chair. Jim's hand was now deep up Mary's skirt and Mary was giggling with delight.
Barbi tossed off her drink and poured another. This was one way that she might get through the evening!
Now she walked back to the sofa. Gerry still stood at the end of it, face miserable and eyeing Mary and Jim with anger.
The brandy was beginning to relax Barbi and the entire scene started looking much better to her.
"Oh, do come here and sit down, Gerry," she snapped. "We've got to make the best of a bad deal." She patted the sofa beside her and he sat down.
They both looked over to the chair opposite. Jim was covering Mary's flushed face with kisses while his hand investigated the warm charms of her thighs.
"Look at that!" Gerry breathed.
He sounded shocked, but he was really excited.
Barbi sipped a drop of more of her brandy. A delicious lightness was beginning to steal over her, an abandoned air that suggested that she had been taking a too severe appraisal of the situation.
"Mary looks as if she is enjoying herself," she smiled.
Mary heard her and turned her head. She looked drunk on excitement.
"I am. He's quite a boy, this Jim," she giggled. "Stop it!" she yelled as Jim's hand dived further than before.
"She wouldn't like it if I did!" Jim shouted, renewing his delving up her skirt.
Gerry, despite himself, couldn't keep his eyes from the white flash of Mary's thighs above her stockings as she made her token struggle against the attention of Jim.
A sudden wild kick showed her legs to the crotch. There was a flash of color and Barbi leaned towards them. She was breathing hard.
"Red panties!" Gerry replied.
"Not much!" Barbi laughed. "Oh, well, I suppose things will turn out all right. Hell, what would Tom say?"
For some reason this self-proposed question amused her and the threw back her head and went off into peals of laughter.
Gerry looked at her in wonder. Even Jim looked up.
"Good for Barbi!" he yelled. "She'll be the life of the party yet."
"Why are you laughing like this?" Gerry asked.
She laid her hand on his knee.
"It is rather funny, after all," she said. "I bring you home here for a quiet evening of fucking and my maid and her boy friend finish up making love in my living room. But what's extra funny is that I say good luck to them!"
Gerry looked at the almost empty glass in her hand and vaguely realized for the first time the effects of alcohol on the basic morality.
Jim roared his approval.
"Atta girl! Oh, boy, what an orgy we could have up here with the other kids. This room'd look really lived in with half a dozen of the boys and girls screwing all over the floor."
"What a wonderful idea!" Barbi enthused, putting her now empty glass down on the floor. She threw her arms around Gerry's neck.
"Why don't we do that? Wouldn't those poor wet, cold little camper friends of yours prefer to come up here and make love in comfort rather than roll around on a muddy ground sheet? I've gotta an idea, let's ask them."
"Some other time," Jim gasped, fresh from his delightful labor of kissing Mary's throat.
"Barbi!" Gerry breathed, "are you-"
"Drunk?" she interjected. "No, but I wouldn't mind if I were. What's the matter with you? Shy? Look at them. They don't mind that we're watching them. Why should we mind? Come on, darling, make love to me."
"He's played out after one session," Jim roared. "Come on, Gerry, get her panties down! I'm having a great time in there."
"Oh, are you?" Mary giggled, following this query with a shriek as Jim's hand dived up her clothes. In her struggles she slipped, head foremost, from the chair so that her haunches and legs remained on Jim's lap while her head and shoulders were on the floor. This placed her at some considerable defensive disadvantage, to say the least.
"Stop it!" she screamed, as Jim's hand groped past her warm plump thighs to her cunt.
"Oh, look at them!" Barbi breathed, her body tense with excitement.
Gerry looked and, without being really aware of it, his hand slipped into the loose top of Barbi's dress and he kneaded her hard tits as he watched the adventurous Jim gain the ascendancy in his battle for Mary's pussy.
With a quick movement, Jim slipped his hand between Mary's thighs. It was good and wet in there.
He could thus imprison one of her legs under each arm, much as in a wrestling hold known to fans as the crab. Her legs thus secure under his arms, it left the hands free to grope for the top of her panties.
Mary writhed and struggled and screamed as she felt his fingers slip into the top of her underwear. Gerry halted his lascivious attentions to Barbi's heaving tits as he watched in fascination the delicious scene that Mary's token struggle was producing. Legs flashing, the white of her thighs plumped over the stocking tops by the tightness of them, and haunches writhing. She fought to maintain her panties around her full hips.
It was difficult for Gerry to decide whether her struggles were real or assumed. He decided for the latter. The boy was learning quickly.
He suddenly stiffened and looked down at his pants. Barbi, in her excitement was groping at his fly. She undid it and slid her hand in around his genitals. His balls tightened and his already stiff cock rose to the last inch of length and his crimson knob deepened in color as feverish blood pumped into it.
Her hand began to slide up and down the white shaft. Gerry gasped. He was already too excited and could easily come if Barbi wasn't careful.
"You dare shoot and I'll throw you out of here," she gasped, easing the speed of her strokes to a gentle, titillating sweep that delicately bared his helmet by pushing the tight foreskin down not quite to the glans.
He gritted his teeth and they watched with caught breath as Mary's panties reached her knees. This was as far as they could be pulled because of her legs being under Jim's arms.
That boy grinned and suddenly released one leg. In a swift reaction that he must have anticipated, she bent over guardedly. It looked like Mary was not new to this game.
She could do nothing about retaining her panties around her legs now. Despite her struggles, the panting of Jim, his face aflame with desire and wine, worked them inexorably down her thighs. There was a harsh sound of ripping material and Barbi's hand went faster up and down the throbbing column of Gerry's aching prick.
He grabbed her wrist.
"Careful!" he warned. "I'll shoot!'.
Mary almost succeeded in protecting the actual gash that lay buried between her thighs that she could not also cover the riot of glorious blonde curls that lay like a triangle of gold from the cleft of her thighs to halfway to her navel.
The curls peeped from between and around her clutching fingers like threads of gold gossamer, hinting of the warm soft secrets they so prettily revealed.
"Barbi!" Gerry breathed.
She stopped jerking him off for a moment.
"Surely you won't come again just for this?" she smiled. "Look at them, pay no attention to me. He's getting her panties down. Look, you can see her cunt!"
Gerry gulped and turned his attention to the other two. But it only made matters worse.
Feeling her panties sliding down over her hips, Mary had thrust both her hands over her cunt. But Jim, still retaining the other, hooked the leg of her panties over the free foot and was thereby left with his mission mainly accomplished.
He grabbed Mary's other leg and imprisoned it again. The boy was strictly in control.
"There, what are you going to do now, my bitch?" he laughed, grimly.
"You're not in yet!" Mary rejoined.
"The little devil!" Barbi breathed. "He could rape a woman with ease!"
Gerry looked at her eager, burning eyes. He then looked down at his cock, still encircled by Barbi's tight fist, but his fingers were now still. He looked again at her face and his heart sank and in that instant took a new appraisal of the situation between himself and his lovely mistress.
In that instant he knew that he was no especially chosen instrument that Barbi's need of sex had made her choose from all men to be something that her life needed. He was just an instrument. In the final analysis, of no more basic value than a dildo, perhaps, to give himself some value, a young imitation of a man with which she could assuage her fierce sexuality. As at that moment he knew that she could never really love him he knew just as surely that he could never love her. Always would be the memory of how she had said that he could rape a woman. He knew that she had at that moment wished that it was herself that Jim was tearing the panties off. It had been the tone of every syllable of every word, this stark truth.
And as Gerry realized it he felt a sense of relief. Now he could settle down and enjoy this affair purely for how it felt to his balls, as it was quite obvious that she would admit him to her body whenever her cunt ached for him but for what her heart ached for she would never find for it probably never existed.
Gerry, needless to say, didn't put this proposition to himself in quite the manner of an adult.
He faced all this realization with a boyish phrase.
"All she wants is what we've done on the rug just now and she damn well wouldn't care much whether it was me, or Jim or the milkman who was fucking her, just so long as it was done. Well, if that's all she wants!"
His hand slipped up her dress and his fingers pressed the lace net of her panty crotch into the softness of her love wet gash.
He kissed her neck, ready to go to work.
"Oh, look at them!" she breathed.
Gerry's eyes followed hers. He figured that he might as well enjoy the show.
While he had been speculating on the reality of what he and Barbi meant to each other, Jim had been working on more exciting and practical business.
His penis was out, jutting in dark arched fury from his open jeans. A few moments before Gerry would have been desolated by Barbi's next remark.
"Isn't it a beauty?"
"It's had enough exercise!" Gerry replied, quite resigned to the fact, that it was hardly-likely to be long before Barbi sampled the thickness of it.
Mary was madly trying to turn her loins so as to present her ass as a target for Jim's seeking, probing fingers. She had devious tastes.
He was either too strong for her, or, as Gerry and Barbi suspected, her heart wasn't in her defense. Suddenly he slipped from the edge of the chair and forced his body above the hips between her thighs, thrusting them wide apart.
She flung her hands up to his shoulders and began to push and pummel him, but it was all make believe.
This left her lower belly open to the gaze of Gerry and Barbi and it is difficult to decide who was the keenest and most interested observer.
It was almost mechanical now that Barbi spotted the proud head of Gerry's stalk. Her whole attention was riveted on the pink slit that glistened deep in the golden bush or the squirming Mary, who, thighs writhing, was trying to escape the approaching prick of Jim.
"Doesn't she look lovely, struggling like that?" Barbi breathed. "Go on, Jim, push it into her, fuck up into her!"
This last injunction was in a loud, shrill voice that made Gerry jump. Barbi was full of surprises. , Gerry looked at her. Her hand was now still on his cock. Her eyes were ablaze with the fury of her excitement and her whole body was shuddering. He smiled to himself as he realized that this was not because he had moved the tiny strip of her panties at her crotch aside and that two of his fingers were deep in her hot stickiness.
"Get into her!" she cried, and then, perversely, "try and stop him, Mary!"
"Would you try to stop him?" Mary asked.
Barbi laughed. She looked at Gerry.
"It is almost as good as a rape, isn't it?"
Gerry, not caring much either way, being more interested in the delights to come when he himself was again buried to the hilt in her, nodded.
"Look at his great cock," Barbi hissed, involuntarily looking down at the slender white rod that nestled in her hand.
"And mine?" Gerry asked, kissing her neck.
"Oh, it's lovely, too. Slender and strong and I want it in me in a flash, right up into me till it hurts. But let's watch them. Oh, Gerry, I want to see him come into her."
Gerry smiled and busied himself with working his fingers in and out of her pulsing quim.
He could feel her fanny flesh bulging out to meet the thrust of his fingers and her thighs gripped hotly on his wrist. Now he washed her mouth with burning kisses and thrust his tongue deep into it while his free hand cupped and weighed the luscious warmth of her firm tits.
Jim now had Mary completely helpless. He was on his knees between her thighs ind his quivering cock was inches from her gash, gaping between her spread-eagled thighs.
"Now what are you going to do?" he cried. "I can put it in whenever I want to."
Mary raised her head and looked at the blood-gorged cock poised at the luscious golden-haired portals of her cunt.
She shuddered and looked up into Jim's face. Then, with a shrill squal of delight, she whipped her hands from his shoulders to his ass and gave his haunches a tremendous heave towards her.
Barbi reared from her seat in a paroxysm of excitement as Jim's cock plunged into the pink, eager stickiness of Mary's parted slit.
"Look!" she almost screamed, as the hairy lips rounded to take the full girth of his tool as it was buried in her to its base.
Mary gave a scream of joy and flung herself back full length on the rug. Jim pushed his legs back straight and fell between hers and began to drive his fierce thickness in and out of her soft nest.
It must have been difficult fucking Mary. She writhed and twisted and heaved and rolled as her lover's hardness sought out and whipped into burning desire every soft crevice of her aching ring. Then she moaned and bucked her haunches up to meet each fierce thrust of him, her fingers digging frantically into his hard ass as she pulled him down into her, forcing with dexterous heaves every vital inch of his driving tool.
His hands ripped at her dress at the top. Everyone stared.
"He's tearing her dress!" Gerry said.
"I'll buy her twenty dresses!" Barbi replied.
She was standing beside the sofa now and Gerry slipped his hand up her dress, up over the shimmering thighs to the soft lips of her cunt. She stiffened as his fingers slipped again into her burning hole.
"Play, play with me!" she moaned. Gerry, in truth, felt like playing with himself as he watched Jim rip the tight bra from Mary's heaving tits.
They quivered, as Jim thrust into her, like white grapefruit capped with scarlet cherries. Her tits were very white and in shape almost matched the those of Barbi. Jim dipped his head and frantically sucked the erect nipples, his prick still driving madly into Mary's twat.
"Fuck her, fuck her! ' Barbi groaned, slightly lowering her hips so that she pushed her cunt further down onto Gerry's fingers that were slipping into her with piston-like regularity.
Jim speeded his stroke. He threw back his head and eyes shut, plunged in and out of the burning quim the hotness of which was caressing his knob to a fury of abandon.
Mary raised her head and looked at him.
"You're coming, you bastard!" she screamed. "Don't shoot yet!"
She grabbed his hips and tried to slow him but he drove on into her for another half a dozen strokes. She screamed at him all the time.
"Don't finish, don't finish, you little bastard!" Her voice sagged away into a wail of what was absolute terror.
Before the watchers' widened eyes, Jim gave one last exultant, lunge into Mary's heaving belly. Then, with a shuddering sigh, his quivering body collapsed onto hers.
For a moment Mary's eyes blazed up at Jim's lowered head. Then, with a mad yell, she heaved him from her and he rolled over on the rug, his limp cock laying wet and glistening against his pants.
Although stunned by the suddenness of Jim's failure, an incongruous thought flashed through Barbi's mind.
"It's going to leave a white stain on his pants!"
Mary leaped to her feet, white tits quivering. She held up her dress and almost in disbelief, looked down at her burning cunt.
"You useless little prick!" she hissed. "Fucking little cocksucker! Why did I ever let you touch me!"
She looked wildly around and her eyes fell on Gerry. He was still sitting on the sofa. His hand was still up Barbi's clothes, but his fingers were unmoving just within the portals of her wet slit.
Mary looked at his still erect cock, standing white as an ivory ruler from his gaping fly.
She flung herself across the room, past Barbi and fell to her knees beside the sofa. Then she grasped his cock and before he could move, thrust his knob into her mouth and began washing it with fiery caresses. Finally she looked up at him.
"Mary" Barbi cried. "Don't-"
"I'm not going to go without coming now, after that little creep has got me hot like this."
"But-" Gerry began.
Barbi seized his arm.
"Lay her," she cried. "Oh, let me see you putting your prick up her twat. I want you to. Oh, please, do so, Gerry. Take her on the floor and fuck her. Fuck her!"
Before anyone could even think of an answer, they had both grabbed him and hurled him to the floor. Mary flung up her skirt and straddled him.
She knelt on either side of his hips and reached between her thighs and held his cock in her hand. Then she lowered herself and gently eased it into her aching, unsatisfied nest. Barbi threw herself on the sofa and lowered her head to watch the better. Her hand sought her cunt and she began to frig herself.
If Gerry had ever entertained the idea of a serious protest, which was unlikely, all thought of it now vanished as Mary's ring slipped up and down his throbbing pillar. This was the first time he had ever been under a woman and his eyes blazed with excitement as he looked down to where her hairy gash was slipping up and down his hardness.
He instinctively put his hands to her hips and took some of her weight, in effect, lowering and raising her as she pierced herself on his rigid lance.
"Work up into me," Mary begged. "Fuck me hard!"
Gerry did as she bade, and in a few strokes they had perfected a rhythm that proved well for their future sport. In and out of her pulsing cunt sank his prick and the action reminded the frantically frigging Barbi of a slender being pushed into the flesh of a pink guava fruit. Barbi had now thrown her legs apart, her dress high in abandon around her upper belly and was driving her fingers into her pulsing cunt with a frenzy of excitement that could hardly have been surpassed if she herself had been on the receiving end of Gerry's throbbing cock.
The pattern of the lover's strokes was now a scintillating poem of understanding. As Mary sank her luscious rump on to Gerry's stalk, his ass came up from the rug and pushed the last fraction of his cock to the root into her burning pulsing, squirming sweetness. Faster and faster Mary plunged her nest down onto his seeking stalk until her bare white bottom cheeks were almost a trembling blur. Barbi, watching, with every nerve of her body taut, increased the speed of her strokes of her fingers into her pulsing hole.
Suddenly, with a wild animal-like cry, Mary gave a mad downward thrust that buried Gerry's cock in her like a fleshy dagger. She quivered and writhed in an agony of passion and then slowly rubbed her spasm to its delicious conclusion with strokes of her haunches up and down his bar.
Then she fell forward on him and kissed his face and wound her fingers in his hair. He was in no condition to appreciate this, however. He gripped her hips and began to lunge furiously in and out of her.
Tired and satisfied as she was, she made feeble efforts to assist him and Barbi's face contorted with excitement as she saw Gerry's jaw muscles go rigid. She watched his face, her fingers still flying in and out of her quim, as he drove his cock into the lovely Mary's soft body. Faster and faster became his strokes until suddenly, with an upward heave that nearly flung the tiredly quivering girl from him, he sank his prick into her in one last frantic lunge.
A shuddering sigh escaped his lips and he slowly worked himself in and out of her. The end was coming! .
Mary moaned as she felt the swift, urgent jet of spunk spray in the creep places of her belly, already wet from the juices of her own orgasm.
"Oh, isn't it hot!" she screamed.
Barbi's attention was now riveted on her own fanny. She looked between her legs to her fingers, wet with her love dew, flashed up and down her pulsing wet tunnel.
She threw her head back and her ass lifted from the sofa. Her fingers slowed in their delicious task and she sagged back on to the sofa. Her legs buckled into an easier position and a shudder of delight ran through her thrill-satiated body
Gerry softly kissed one of the warm hard tits of Mary, taking her nipple into his mouth and fucking the tip with his tongue. His dying horn began to slip down the wet, hairy sheath that engulfed it so deliciously.
All was still in the room, all passion spent. Finally, it was Barbi who spoke first.
"I hope you'll do the same for me one day, Mary," she said.
Her skirt was still up and her cunt hair was sparkling with her love juice. She was at peace with the world.
"The same for you?"
"Yes, lend me your boyfriend sometimes."
Mary looked over to the dejected Jim, now sitting back in the chair, his face a picture of humiliation.
"You can have him, anytime!" she said.
"Thank you for nothing!" Barbi laughed.
"All right, all right," Jim said. "I'll be better next time."
"Next time?" Mary echoed. "There won't be a next time as far as I'm concerned."
"Oh, I don't know, really," Barbi said. A nice big prick like he's got could be trained, I should think."
"I'm satisfied with what I've got," Mary chuckled, working her cunt over Gerry's limpness.
And Gerry, the recipient of this delightful attention, was in no mood to deny her his future services!
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was around ten o'clock in the morning when Barbi awoke. But she was in no mood to get up.
She lay in bed for a moment or two trying to trace the cause of the delightfully relaxed feeling that had replaced her usual tense irritability on awakening. It was so good for a change.
Then she remembered. She smiled and her hands slid luxuriously over her heavy tits, barely concealed in a coffee-colored chiffon nightie, to her cunt. She held it clasped in her hands. Then she began to rub.
"What a night!" she murmured.
She had only allowed Gerry and for that matter Jim to return to the camp on the advice of Mary.
"Mrs. Wallace," she had said, her normal mode of address having returned to her at about the same time as Jim had restored her panties. "We've gotten away with murder tonight. Just say anyone saw these two running off in the morning. It could be trouble for you and me. I'm not interested in finding a new job."
"Oh, it's so heartless, Mary," Barbi had replied. "We've had so much fun and we're going to nice warm beds to sleep it off. Let them sleep with us tonight. We just can't send them back to those dreary tents."
"Listen," Mary rapped. "I'd rather them go back to their tents then me having to go back to a dreary prison. And do you want to go along to the divorce court? I don't say it would happen, but it could. Let them go tonight. This isn't the only night of fun we can have."
Reluctantly, Barbi agreed. It was significant that the two boys' wishes weren't consulted.
On being asked if they minded returning to their camp they had both said that they did and had been promptly ignored.
Barbi's last words, after she had tenderly kissed Gerry goodbye and teased him about his swift infidelity was to Jim.
"Something you said earlier, Jim," she had said. "About a party up here. Do you think it could be discreetly organized. And, Jim, I do mean quietly.'
Jim's calm intelligence returned with the departure of the demands upon his stamina.
"Sure!" he had boasted. "I'll get it on for you."
"But only boys and girls that you can trust."
"I know what you want. Leave it to me."
"No terrible hurry," Barbi had smiled. "As soon as you can without causing talk."
He had nodded and had left with Gerry.
Barbi was not to know it but the party was to be forced upon her desire despite any wishes she might have had and a lot quicker than she could have wished or perhaps even desired. She had no choice.
There was a soft tap at the door.
"Come in," she called.
It was Mary. A very different-looking Mary from the Mary of the orgy of the night before. A trim, neat, efficient, cool-looking Mary who looked as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth let alone cock melt in her cunt.
"Good morning, madam," Mary said. She held a silver breakfast tray in her hands. "I thought you might like your breakfast in bed this morning."
Barbi smiled. Was this to be Mary's only recognition of the event of the night before, the thought that her mistress might feel just that trifle too exhausted to arise for breakfast?
"What a nice thought," Barbi smiled. "How do you feel?"
This must have reassured Mary as to her reception for she gave Barbi a lovely grin and replied briefly, "Sore!"
Mary came over to the bedside and placed the tray across the bed. She tried not to grin.
Barbi wriggled into position and Mary began to pour her tea.
"I feel quite all right, not even a bit sore!" Barbi said.
"You're in practice," Mary replied.
"If you knew more about Tom," Barbi observed, "you might think I was out of training."
Mary finished pouring the tea. Barbi patted the bed beside her.
"Sit down," she said. "You should have brought yourself a cup."
Mary sat down and looked gratefully at her mistress.
"Were we tight last night?" she asked.
"They didn't seem to find us tight. Oh, dear, my one-track mind. You mean drunk! I think I might have been just the weeniest bit tizzy. You were all right, though."
"Thanks very much," Mary said.
"Why, what's the matter?" Barbi asked, staring at her in surprise.
"What you're saying is that what you did when you were a bit drunk while I did it while I was sober."
"I didn't mean that. Eventually, perhaps not so quickly, but eventually, I'd have done the same thing sober."
Mary wrinkled her nose. "Thanks!" she said. "I've been thinking all morning that I was just a loose little tramp giving away to some pretty nasty feelings but that you were just a silly who's had too much to drink."
"Well, you can forget that. I know it's wrong of me and I know I should be ashamed of myself and I know that I should be worrying about how I can even look Tom in the face again, but the plain, honest truth is that my conscience hasn't said a word to me and I'm looking forward to the next time."
"My conscience has been giving me hell," Mary said. "After all, I kicked off with a kid of seventeen."
"You're only nineteen yourself," Barbi said.
"And finished off with a kid of fourteen!" Mary finished.
"And enjoyed every minute of it."
"That's what worries me," Mary said. She paused for a moment and then her beautiful young face broke into an impish grin. "I read something once that amused me. Someone said, 'the best way to get rid of a temptation is to give into it.' Do you think that's true?"
"I suppose I shouldn't, but I do."
"Oh, to hell with it. I suppose what I'm really worried about, if I'm honest, is getting found out."
"I don't even think I'm concerned about that," Barbi said, sipping her tea.
"You must be getting along pretty badly with Mr. Wallace," Mary observed.
"Not very well, I'm afraid. Not in the way we're talking about, anyway. You see, I've never realized it fully before, but I'm a sexy woman."
"You're telling me!" Mary replied, dryly.
"Well, Tom isn't a sexy one."
"That usually spells trouble."
"You're quite profound in these matters for your age," Barbi smiled.
"I've been around, so help me. I've been around. I've seen it both ways. A man's got a cold wife. They're the ones I usually get. Or a woman's got a cold husband, or says she has. It always works out the same, then. She grabs the first stiff. Listen to us, aren't we getting coarse?"
Barbi threw back her head and chortled with laughter. It was such a relief to be honest.
Mary watched with a smile.
"It's true, though, isn't it? When we let our hair down it's a wonder we don't trip over it. For me it was always in the cards I'd meet some youngster and let him drag my pants down as soon as he showed he wanted to. But you!" She shook her head in amazement. "But the way you took to this sort of thing, it's none of my business, but is this the first time? I mean, since you've been fucked by a kid?"
"Yes," Barbi replied. "It is. Mind you, there haven't been a lot of temptations. There was one, though."
"Another?" Mary asked.
Barbi nodded. "Please. I went up to town to meet an old school friend. Tom drove me up and I had a couple of hours to waste before I met the friend. I went to a movie. It was before lunch and the movie was almost empty. A man came and sat beside me."
"That can only mean one thing!"
"I suppose I knew that. He offered me a cigarette and I refused. You know, thinking back on it, that was my cue to move if I really hadn't wanted to be pestered." She looked at Mary and smiled.
"Needless to say, I didn't move. He was a man in his middle forties as far as I could judge. His knee touched mine."
"The old routine!" Mary sighed.
"I suppose so. Then he put his hand on his knee and that meant it was only inches to mine. He touched my knee with his fingers. I moved it. He was quiet for a bit, then over came his knee again. I had moved mine so far that to move it any further I'd had to have, shifted seat."
"So you stayed where you were? I've done that," Mary chuckled.
"Again his fingers touched my knee. I realized now that I only had seconds, or fractions of a second, even to act. I did nothing!"
"I know what you mean," Mary nodded. "The bastard excited you although you didn't want to be aroused."
"Yes, despite oneself. Anyway, when he touched me I wanted to move away but more than that, I suppose I must have wanted to see what he was going to do. Call it curiosity, if you want."
"What happened?"
"Well, as soon as he realized that I wasn't going to knock his hand off my knee or call the attendant or moved to another seat, he started, well, performing."
"I once sat on a horny guy's lap in a movie and got myself well stuffed," Mary remarked.
"Oh, it didn't go as far as that," Barbi laughed. "No, he put his coat over our legs and put his hand up my dress. At first I was shivering with dread, whether from the realization of what I was letting a complete stranger do to me. Or from fear someone would see us or from the very devil of it, I don't know. As I've told you, the movie was empty and there wasn't really much chance of our being seen. He wanted to, take my panties down but I wouldn't let him. Funny, I didn't tell him that he mustn't. In fact, during the whole thing we never spoke a single word to each other. It was a sort of tacit understanding that I was in the mood to be messed about with and it ended when we both came. I just hung on to them. It was just as good without them down. He pulled my panties aside and gave me the most lovely frigging I think I've ever had. I'd got my legs stuck out straight under the seat in front and when I came, well, it's a wonder I didn't have a crowd around us. I gave such a yell!"
"And what about him?" Mary asked, who had been listening to this recital with keen interest.
"Oh, I jerked him, of course. He had a nice smooth, thick one. Oh, but when he came! It went all over my hand, on my coat sleeve and somehow over my skirts. I was in quite a mess. I had to go to the ladies room and wash myself off."
"And you never saw him again?"
"I told you. It seemed to be understood that we just enjoyed ourselves there and then and then went our separate ways. As soon as I've got over my come and went to the washroom he made no move to follow me and I never saw him again."
"You're lucky," Mary said. "If I let the bastard get up my clothes in a movie house or anywhere they'd want me nude on the bed in ten minutes. I never seem to be able to have a little bit of fun without some damned complication. Of course, you've got the dignity to carry a thing like that off, she sighed. "Men seem to look at you and imply that you fuck and go straight at you. Do you know, I was broken in by a man of fifty when I was fourteen. He was wonderful. Kissed my cunt and the rest for two hours before he went crazy and put it in me. Oh, I fell for him, all right. Hook, line and sinker I went for him. I was because I made such a fuss of him that he got into trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Barbi asked.
"He got caught, and got three years. I suppose it served him right. Until he got hold of me I wasn't a bad kid. Men shouldn't screw around with young girls. It's not so bad for a woman to screw around with boys, but girls, they're different."
"As the French say, long live the difference!" Barbi interjected.
"What's that mean?"
"Had a Frenchman, once," Mary said.
"Was he good?"
Mary shrugged. "About the same, using his old cock, but with his tongue! What did he call it?"
"Soixante-neuf?"
"That's it, sixty-nine. But that was after. I mean sucking each other off at the same time. First of all he used to kiss me and could he kiss! Talk about an educated tongue, he used to have me shrieking the place down. Sucking is what I call it, but I expect there's a nice word."
"We used to call it French-kissing at school?" Barbi said.
"I thought that was just using your tongue for ordinary kissing," Mary said.
"I expect it rather depends on your school?" Barbi laughed.
She looked at the window.
"Not a very nice day, but I suppose I should be getting up."
"Nine o'clock news gave a storm warning. It's been raining all night."
"Take the tray, Mary."
Mary took it and Barbi swung her legs over the edge of the bed with a flash of long white thighs.
She sat on the edge of the bed and when one superb white tit tumbled from her nightie in a mound of trembling glory she casually and absentmindedly thrust it back without a trace of self-consciousness.
"I'm a bit hazy about last night," she said. "Did we make any arrangements for the boys to come up tonight?"
"Nothing definite."
"I suppose they will come. Throw me that dressing gown."
Mary handed her the robe.
"Try and keep in away," she said. "I don't like that Jim thought."
"Don't you think he could be trained?"
"Is he worth it? After all, he's a nasty bastard. He could drive a girl nuts while she's training him."
Barbi slipped into her gown.
"Wasn't there some talk about a party?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.
"There was some talk. It didn't get very far though."
"Oh!" And the wistful note in her voice was not lost upon Mary.
Suddenly there was a roar of thunder from the darkening sky and the windows shook.
"Well!" Mary gasped. "I've never seen any lightning like that."
They stood for a few minutes watching the storm, little realizing that what it was doing to solve some of their problems and soothe some of their desires.
It was some two hours later and long after she had bathed and dressed that Barbi realized the significance of the storm. She was standing at the living room window looking out into the garden where the wet trees dripped gloomily on to the paths and roadways and the leaves hung heavily under their burden of wetness.
It had been raining for almost two hours and she had not once until then thought of the camp and the boys up there.
"Goodness, they flooded out!" she gasped. She ran over to the intercom and called for Mary.
She went back to the window to await her and gazed out at the bleak prospect of the garden. The door opened and she turned.
"Mary, look at this weather. I've just realized. Their camp. It must have been flooded."
Mary joined her at the window.
"Yes, I've been thinking the same thing. They'll be like drowned rats down
"This will ruin their vacation."
"If it's messed up, they may have to go home. That will ruin our vacations," Mary grinned.
Barbi looked at her and smiled. "No, seriously, Mary, we must do something for them."
"What?"
"Well, something. Could we take them blankets and things?'
"We might be able to take them things whatever they are. We haven't enough blankets."
"We must do something, poor devils."
"We could put them up here for the night."
Barbi stared.
"Why, that's a wonderful idea," she cried. "That's what we will do."
"That gets over the party problem, too," Mary observed, with a strange glint in her eyes. "I mean, nobody could talk about us giving shelter to a bunch of wet kids, now, could they?"
"Mary," Barbi cried, "you're dreadful, but you're quite right. They couldn't."
She walked across the door.
"I'm going to get ready and take the car and go down to them. You get on to the shops and see that we've got plenty of food and beer for them. Get potato chips and whatever kids like. Cakes and lemonades and that sort of thing."
"Cakes and lemonade for that mob! If they're anything like Gerry and Jim there they might want marijuana and scotch."
"Mary, do as you're told and don't try to make out that you're not as pleased with this as I am."
Mary laughed and Barbi ran out to get her coat. Then she ran to the garage and got out the car. She drove down to the highway with a feeling of exultation in her heart. But as she turned out on the road it faded and the old confusion, the old feeling that this wasn't her acting like this swept over her.
Her foot even momentarily lifted from the accelerator as she said to herself, what am I doing here? Am I really going to fill the house with kids in the hope that some orgy will develop? Do I really think these children will start copulating all over the place? That the storm is an excuse for filling the house with these youngsters other than for the purpose of giving them shelter? Barbi Wallace, you are mad!
Her foot went down again on the accelerator. What the hell? She'd be careful. She'd be cunning. Who would ever find out? She shrugged. How much did that really matter? She'd now committed adultery. It would be the last word in hypocrisy to even allow herself to listen to the suggestion that this might be the first and only time. From now on if any man attracted her and it was possible, well, it would happen!
It was thus in a mood of almost conscious self-destruction that she drove down the highway to the camp site.
She parked as near the camp as she could. From where she stood in the woods the camp looked as it should. There were five tents and they looked tight and snug. A few figures moved about around the site.
There was a gate nearby and she opened it and walked through into the field.
One or two of the figures looked at her but she aroused little interest until she went up to one of them, a girl, and said, "Well, things don't look too bad?"
The girl, a pert-looking blonde in jeans and a check shirt that did little to conceal her breast-shape, looked at her.
"Look bad? Why should things look bad?"
"Well, the storm?"
"Oh, that," replied the girl. "These tents are Army surplus. They're made to withstand hurricanes. Anyway, worse things than a bit of rain. We're all right."
"I'm Mrs. Wallace."
"I'm Janice Marks.
"How are you? My husband's company owns this field, and that woods."
"Oh! Mrs. Wallace, I am sorry. I didn't realize who you were." She turned around and waved to the others.
"Hey!" she yelled. "Mrs. Wallace has come down to see how we are getting along."
The rest of the group outside the tents began to drift over to them and one or two others came out from the tents themselves. One girl, Barbi noticed buttoning her blouse as she came through a tent flap held by a rather flustered-looking youth.
Barbi began to sincerely regret her surprise visit. She was getting jealous.
"Oh, don't bother to disturb anyone," she said. "I just looked in to see that you hadn't been washed away. I was going to offer you shelter at my house."
"That's nice of you, Mrs. Wallace," Janice replied, "but we're really quite all right."
She looked around at the others.
"Anyone like to get out of the damp and stay up at Mrs. Wallace's house?"
There were friendly grins and assurances that they could make do with the camp. Barbi's spirits fell. There was no sign of either Jim or Gerry.
The girl noticed her roving eyes.
"Were you looking for Gerry?" she asked. Barbi's heart gave a wild leap. Did they know, then?
"Gerry?" she faltered.
"Yes, Gerry. He was up at your house last night with Jim."
Barbi licked her dry lips. "Oh, that Gerry. No, I wasn't looking for him."
Janice's next words reassured her.
"He told us he'd been up to the house making arrangements to get phone service when we need it."
Barbi sighed, relieved.
"Oh, yes," she said. "I've told him to help himself, anytime."
She smiled to herself as she realized how true this was, in an entirely different way!
The girl said, "I expect you remember camping from your day, canvas tents that wouldn't stand up to a shower. These things," she waved her hand towards the khaki tents, "will stand any kind of weather and keep us as snug as bugs in rugs. Still, it was nice of you to come down and inquire how we are."
There was a chorus of agreement from the others. One boy, a rather handsome if shallow-looking fellow, stepped forward.
"Now that you're here could we offer you a cuppa coffee?" he asked.
Barbi noticed that his eyes were cool and confident as he appraised her carefully and she was suddenly very aware that she didn't really look her best in her heavy raincoat. She let it swing idly open.
"That's very nice of you," she said.
"I should have asked you," Janice apologized.
"My name's Dave," said the tall, handsome boy who had first offered her hospitality, raising his eyes from where her tits plumped out her sweater.
Barbi shook hands with him.
"Dave is really more or less in charge of everything," Janice explained. "I don't know whether because he's the oldest or the biggest!"
"Perhaps a combination of both,". Barbi laughed.
"Let's go into the mess tent," Dave suggested.
His hand took her elbow possessively. A slight quiver ran through her. It was a strange feeling. The very touch of his hand seemed to establish an understanding between them. It was as if he had actually hinted, 'I know you do, but when do we do it?'
He led her to a tent that stood a little apart from the others.
"This is the mess tent, and in kind of a mess, I'm afraid," he smiled.
The others followed them as she stepped into the gloom of the tent. Benches were arranged around a plain trestle table and he motioned her to sit down.
"Put the pot on for tea, someone," he said.
Several of the youngsters began to work at the camp stove while another dashed out for water.
Barbi stamped her feet on the ground sheet. "Why, even the ground isn't wet It's as good as a house. More fun anyway."
'T wouldn't say that," Dave replied.
A dark girl in a very young-looking outfit perched herself on the back of the bench opposite with a flash of little young legs. She leaned her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands and surveyed them frankly. Her legs were slightly apart and Barbi could see that she wore white underwear.
"Gee, you two make a fine pair," she remarked.
"This child," David said, "is from across the wide blue seas. Which sea and in which direction I'll leave you to guess."
"Doesn't he talk cute?" the girl said, admiringly.
"I wouldn't blame you if you got a crush on him. I'm nuts about him myself."
"You're from Europe?" Barbi asked, poised between shock and amusement.
"Right on, lady," the girl answered.
"Now come on, Karen, shift yourself and try to behave," Janice admonished. "You know, Mrs. Wallace, she's a problem child whose parents think a private school might cure her of whatever it is that bothers her."
"There's nothing wrong with me," Karen said, adding frankly, "it just that I'm plain neurotic. My Ma and Pa are more nuts than me. Look at me. This getup is then idea of what a civilized girl of fourteen should wear. If they get to hear I ain't dressing properly, like wearing bras and panties, they'd cut my allowance. So what can I do?"
"You're only fourteen!"
"And a half."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Fourteen and a half. Gee, ain't he cute? Plays football, wears cologne and smokes a pipe sometimes, a real Ail-American. Ain't he dynamite?"
David took this eulogy quite calmly.
"Ignore that brat," he advised Barbi. "We all do."
"He's telling the truth," Karen admitted. "He never once gave me a tumble. You'd think I had two heads, or something. Mind you, I think it's just that he's too much of the All-American boy to make a pass at a kid in an out fit like this. Gee, wish he would, though.
Really, ain't he cute?"
"You've got to speak her language to get any reaction," David cut in. "Now come on, Karen, scram!"
"That's the way he treats me! All the time that's how he treats me!"
"Cover yourself up and behave!" Dave said. "Ignore her, Mrs. Wallace. She tends to disappear if one doesn't take notice of her."
"Give a hand making the tea," Janice interjected.
"What do I know about tea?" Karen demanded. "If we'd got what it takes, I could rustle you up a martini."
"Will you go away!" Dave barked.
"He's going to make a play for you, Mrs. Wallace!" Karen cried. "I know that look in his eyes. I saw it once. He caught me putting on my bra after swimming-"
"Oh!" Barbi gasped.
"Take her out, will you!' Dave yelled.
Several girls hustled the protesting Karen from the tent and Dave turned to Barbi with apologies.
"I'm really sorry about this," he said. "She's the camp terror. She's quite a nice kid really, but so anxious to come off as sophisticated."
"She seems very hot on you," Barbi commented.
"She is and it could be damned dangerous."
I agree. She looked around. For the moment they were the only ones in the tent. "It's very difficult for a man when he's pursued like that."
"I'll manage," he grinned. .
"You mean, you wouldn't take advantage of her?"
"Frankly, I would," he laughed. "I just don't want the complications that follow. There are plenty of others."
"The more I hear of modern youth the more I'm shocked."
"Are you? Are you really?" he asked, softly.
She gave him a sidelong, sultry look
"Well, you yourself are hardly a child," she countered.
"You weren't talking about children," he said. "You were talking about youth. I regret it, but I'm a youth. A knowledgeable one, but a youth."
"And I am a married woman," she said, with mock resolution.
"If I'm being snottty, tell me."
"You are being snotty," she told him.
He drew slightly away from her. But she laid her gloved hand on his hand.
"And I love it!" she whispered.
A shadow suddenly came across the tent opening. She moved her hand hastily.
"Mrs. Wallace!" came a voice.
It was Gerry, very excited. "Well, hello there!"
"They told me you were here." He looked at Dave with a jealous stare. "Oh, hello, Dave."
Dave nodded. "Hello!" he growled. He didn't want competition.
"I've just been down to the village, to the post office, to get some stamps."
"Mrs. Wallace didn't think you'd gone to the post office to get a pound of coffee," Dave snapped.
"As it happens, you can get some interesting things at the post office, can't you, Ger '? "
Gerry grinned. "Yes, you can!"
Dave grunted with irritation as Gerry sat down.
"Where's your friend, what was his name?" Barbi asked, naively.
"Jim? Oh, he's gone to the movies, to get out of the wet."
"That's why I came here," Barbi said. "To see how you'd all managed in the storm."
Some of the others came back into the hut. The water was boiling on the stove and Barbi watched them make the instant coffee.
As they handed her a cup, she remarked, in her best casual voice, "Perhaps some of you would like to come up to the house tonight for a late supper."
"That'd be great!" Janice said.
"Some of the older ones, of course," Barbi added.
"What a mob to invite to your house," Dave growled.
"I think they're a very nice mob, as you call them," Barbi replied tartly.
"Ignore," Janice said. "What time do you want us?"
"Shall we say, about eight?"
"Fine," the others piped in.
Barbi sipped her coffee. She was wet already. "Then I'll see you. Why, your coffee is as good as the one I get home!"
This was a disloyalty to Mary because the cheap instant coffee was harsh and bitter.
"They'll be dragging mud all over your house," Dave cautioned.
"Shit, we can take our shoes off first!" Janice said.
"That'll be nice for everyone," Dave replied bitterly.
There was a sudden uproar outside and a boy dashed into the tent. He looked frightened.
"Come and look outside," he shouted. "The stream down by the woods has overflowed. We're going to get really flooded."
They all dashed outside. A rapidly widening lake was spreading from the stream up towards the tents.
"Oh, hell!" Dave shouted. "We'll have to shift the whole camp."
Barbi made her offer a few minutes later with a simple sincerity that impressed everybody and raised fevers of hope in quite a number of young people.
"I'll see that they behave themselves," Dave promised.
"Don't you dare!" Barbi murmured, happily.
CHAPTER NINE
The next few hours seemed to fly by. Rooms were prepared and the sexes of the campers carefully considered in the disposition of their quarters.
Heat was turned up in all the rooms as blankets were in short supply but it was well past seven before the supper for the younger members of the camp had been eagerly devoured.
"You'd think you were at the zoo," Mary said, surveying the debris of the meal.
The most difficult task of the evening transpired to be that of persuading the younger members of the party that it was time they were sleeping.
Even when this had been accomplished it was with a sense of dismay that Barbi realized on looking around the living room that she had on her hands for entertainment some ten juveniles.
This included the experienced Jim and Gerry. She had noticed that Jim had been the most eager assistant she could have wished for in getting the younger members to bed.
He sidled up to her immediately after that last one had disappeared upstairs and in a few well-chosen words explained the reason for his hearty cooperation.
"These," he hissed confidentially to her, "are all right."
"All right?" she repeated.
"Yes, all right."
"I don't think I quite get what you mean."
"They're okay. They like some fun and they're discreet. Dave, he's all right. Janice, I've had her myself. Ann, there, the redhead, Dave fucked her. Mark, the one with the big nose, he's having an affair with Gladys, the girl on the couch with big tits. Anthony-"
"What about him?"
Jim stared. "Yes, that little fellow with the glasses, he's an intellectual. He believes in free love."
"Oh, stop!" Barbi yelled. "You're destroying my faith in modern youth. Here, just a minute. Don't tell me that little European girl, Karen, is, well, having sex with somebody."
"Karen," Jim mused, "may be a virgin. But she blows a wonderful cock and Ray Jacobs, the kid over there talking to Mary, swears she's sucked him off."
"I'm out of my class here," Barbi said. "Do you mean to tell me that all these kids in this room have been screwing around with each other?"
"I don't like your referring to them as kids," Jim snapped. "We're teenagers, I admit, and as for screwing around, aren't we human?"
It occurred to Barbi to say that was hardly the case, but she stopped herself.
Instead, she looked around at the party and back to Jim.
"But do they, you know?"
"Know what? Oh, that there are ho holds barred? No, not actually, but that doesn't matter. Without asking your permission they'll start petting and if you don't stop them, they'll be over the floor in no time. Just leave them alone. You'll get all the fun you want."
"This is beyond me," Barbi told him.
"I expect it is," he replied. "Do you think Mary will stand for me having another try?"
"Why don't you ask her?"
"A good idea. Excuse me."
Barbi watched him walk over to Mary and engage her in conversation. She shook her head in amazement and looked around the room. Dave caught her eye and would have walked over to her but Gerry was at her elbow.
"What a mob," he said in disgust. "Can't we go somewhere quiet?"
"I can't very well leave my guests," she demurred.
"They'll worry about that. Look at that Bob."
She followed his glance. At first it looked as if Bob's hand was deep down the neck of the girl's blouse.
Dave came over to them. "Shall I stop those two?" he asked.
It was the hour of decision for Barbi. She swallowed hard.
"Are they doing any harm?" she asked.
"You mean to say you don't mind?" Dave looked at her incredulously.
"I don't like interrupting young people."
Mary's voice came from the other side of the room, loud and clear.
"Keep your hands to yourself!"
Jim, one arm around her and a hand cupping one of her heavy tits, giggled, "Can't we go somewhere we won't be stepped on?"
Barbi heard Dave saying, "Well, if you don't mind-" And he walked back to a chair and flung himself in it, glaring the while at the ambitious Bob who was now investigating the charms of Karen's thighs to the accompaniment of her urgent shrieks.
Mary ran across the room to her mistress.
"This little bastard is already half raping me!" she gasped. "He says yesterday was a mistake. What can you do with him?"
"Let him prove it," Barbi smiled.
Jim, who had joined them and was again busy with Mary's tits, grinned. "And that's the best advice you'll get tonight," he said.
Mary looked" around her. "Look at these little wretches," she said. "The place looks like a French brothel on a Saturday night!"
She looked at Jim. "If you don't do better than last night-" she warned.
"I will!" Jim said. "Oh, come on, let's go somewhere."
"Taking a look around at the moment, I can't see anything wrong with right here," she said. "If you're no good, I've got a second choice."
Jim, taking her at her word, forced her back into an unoccupied armchair.
Barbi put her arm around Gerry's shoulders. "Gerry," she said. "I don't really mind what goes on but shouldn't we send that little European girl upstairs? Just look at the width, Dave."
Karen was on her knees beside Dave. She wore a gay print dress and this revealed that she was quite well-developed, particularly around the chest.
Dave was pushing her away from him but she was resisting by holding onto his hips. Her thighs were bare to her crotch and her ass cheeks were full and voluptuous as they strained the white, tight silk panties that girded them.
"Don't play hard to get, honey," he was saying. "This is our chance."
"Go away and play with someone else. Someone more your age and class."
"Will you go away?" Dave asked, pushing her violently from his side.
She sprawled over on the floor with a petulant pout and a glorious display of well-filled white silk panties. Then she was immediately grabbed by a tousle-headed boy with a red, healthy-looking face who dragged her, still protesting, to a chair near the window.
Barbi watched them for a moment before her attention was drawn to other happenings.
The boy kissed the utile biuopean girl violently on the mouth and began pawing her hard little tits where they bulged her print dress. His other hand was deep between her bare thighs and from her delighted shrieks she was well on the way to forgetting Dave.
"What a wildcat!" David said, getting off the chair and coming over to Barbi. "She'll finish up pregnant one of these days."
"I can believe that," Barbi agreed, dryly. "Dave, who's that pretty red-haired girl over there?"
Dave followed her look. "Oh, that's Amy. The fellow she's with is Bob Brent. They're going steady."
"But look at them now," Barbi gasped.
"They're going at it pretty heavily," Dave agreed.
By going at it heavy, Dave must have meant that it was rather early in the evening for the boy to have his girlfriend's tits out of her dress and to be smothering in kisses. The girl had large tits and Barbi wriggled with excitement as she saw the boy's tongue laving the scarlet nipples with fiery caresses.
"They live together when they can in the city. like when they're on vacation from school," Gerry said, in an awed voice.
"Then why do they want to behave like that in public if they can do what they want in private?" Barbi asked, genuinely puzzled. J "They just want to help the party really," I Dave shrugged.
"It isn't a party," Barbi stated. "You're here because you've been flooded out at camp."
"They may be," Dave grinned. "I'm here because you're here."
He put his arm around Barbi and while Gerry glowered at him, gently cupped her left tit.
She pushed his hand away. "Behave yourself," she said.
The hit in her voice sickened Gerry and he turned away. He tried desperately to look nonchalant and his eye lit on Janice who was eating some grapes at the sideboard. He walked up to her.
"Hello, Janice, are you lonely?"
"Hmmmm," she replied. "Feel like livening it up?"
A wild shriek made them look around. The boy who had dragged Karen off had her dress up and was struggling her tight white panties down her pretty plump thighs. The soft, sparse hair around her cunt gave her a momentarily helpless, pathetic look.
"Give them a kiss then," Gerry said.
"Take one if you want one!" Janice replied, offering him grape-moist, pretty lips.
He kissed her and his hand slipped up her hard young body to the rise of her tits. He nipples felt hard and erect through the thin dress.
In the meantime, Dave was pressing his suit with Barbi.
"I think you're the most beautiful girl I've" ever seen," he said.
"And that's the first time you've ever said that?" Barbi mocked, fending him on with both hands. She was very conscious by the strained look in his eyes that he must have a raging horn in his pants.
"I may have said it before, but this is the first time I've really meant it."
He made a sudden movement and avoided her outstretched hands and pulled her to him. Her suspicions about this sex condition was immediately confirmed.
His cock stood between them like a bar of iron. Despite her intentions of keeping him on the hook for a time, even permanently, she couldn't resist swaying her body against his and feeling the root of his rod across his taut belly.
"My, what have you got there?" she asked, looking at him tauntingly.
"You've only got to say the word and you can find out!"
