When a 36-year-old woman is convicted of child molesting of an 10, 12 or 14-year-old boy, that makes news. Such an event recently took place in a west coast city. The woman was charged with felony child molesting, but copped a plea, and arranged to plead guilty to a lesser charge of misdemeanor child molesting.
A misdemeanor is a much less severe charge than a felony, with the felony bringing punishment of hard time in prison or a county jail.
In our society today such conduct of women toward younger boys is still thought by most to be very rare. We suggest that it is becoming more frequent all the time. The upsurge of the women's liberation movement and all of its ramifications has certainly affected this area of woman/child relationships as well.
Many psychiatrists point out that a woman is openly more affectionate around children, including young boys, and this is deemed appropriate since it is part of her "role" of major child-rearing adult. Today with many roles reversed and leveled out in the modern household, the woman is restricted in this child association role and her "independence" often leads her into more experimental sexual avenues in search of fulfillment.
In their book Fundamentals of Human Sexuality, Dr. Katchadourian and Lunde point out some interesting facts about adult women. They say:
"The majority of heterosexual offenders with children are, however, neither senile nor mentally defective; 70-80 percent have been married at some time in their lives. They tend to be conservative and moralistic, and some require alcohol before they can commit their offenses."
The doctors are talking about those who are caught and prosecuted and convicted, of course.
It is our view that many, hundreds of thousands of liaisons between women and younger boys take place daily across the nation, and that while some are harmful, most are of the no-harm type of crime. In many cases the boy is searching, experimenting, and looking for contact with any female of any age. This might even be construed as education.
For the woman, it sometimes is a transitory situation, where she is also searching, sometimes for more meaning to sex, sometimes for more understanding. In some cases she is simply repelled by the sexful attitude of most "swingers" in singles circles. The first intercourse date is often the rule rather than the exception. After a steady diet of this whether or not the intercourse takes place and a nasty argument and fight ensue, the woman can become so shaken and insecure and unsure of herself that she turns to some other form of the male animal to use for relaxation and a rekindling of her natural desire for normal sexual relationships and the deep and abiding results she hopes will come from them.
This may be the situation with Markanna, a reporter on a small town weekly newspaper who finds that small boys excite her while the obvious cockhound and the sexual schizophrenic who needs alcohol to batter down his inhibitions, leave her in a fuzzy, frighteningly insecure world.
How she meets these problems, and unsnarls her relationships with three different teenage boys, is the socio-sexual study in this interesting and thought-provoking narration.
As Drs. Katchadourian and Lunde say in their book, "the entire pedophiliac episode is often quite brief, and, though there may be a series of such episodes before the child reports them, it is unusual for a prolonged or intimate relationship to develop."
This flaw in the child lover's motive is characterized here by Markanna, who seriously believes she is totally dependent on the affection of very young boys, until she discovers for herself a more deep and fulfilling experience with a male.
Granted police files still show that women/boy affairs are much fewer than man/girl pedophilia episodes, a close check of current police files will show that this situation is now in a transitional period, and while there never may be as many incidents reported, they are on a dramatic rise. This book attempts to show how one such pedophile went into and out of such a behavior pattern.
You will find the Rated X books, along with their companions, the Surrey Collectors Series and the HIS 69 gay titles at your favorite adult bookstore or newsstand each and every month. Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private book shelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Markanna shifted her bottom on the soft cushion of her big office chair and tried to relax. Damn it, so he was staring at her, he was just a kid. But what a kid! She knew her twat was juicing up again. She squirmed and looked back at the kid. He was copy boy, gofer, stuffer, assistant pressman and whatever else the small weekly needed on Tuesday nights when they were trying to get final copy out and often worked until midnight.
She wanted to rub her breasts. Impossible. She was a grown woman and should be able to take these little flashes, but tonight she simply couldn't. He looked like he was about fourteen, and was some relation to the editor and publisher.
That should have been enough right there to warn her away, but no, not her, not soft-cunted, big-titted Markanna. She remembered what the boys had called her that last month in high school and began to feel warm all over. She had been fucked ten times that last two weeks of school, and then went out with two boys the night of the graduation party. What a night that had been. She knew it was the end of fun time for her, she had a chance to work on this little weekly newspaper up state and left the following day.
Now she'd been here for two years. She knew the damn job by heart, and only by trying to come up with some new kind of "people" features did she keep it from becoming unbearable. After she had three years experience here, the Journal said she could apply for a job, and ask for two-years experience pay.
The boy came toward her desk. He had a habit of idly scratching his crotch, like some athletes did, not really realizing that they were. It gave a little lift to her breath as she saw the start of a stiff prick behind his blue jeans.
"Hey, ah ... need anything?" he asked. His name was Dan and he was small, he'd always be short, she was sure. He had hair not long, but not in a businessman's formal cut either. It was rather an in-between shag. She guessed he stood about five-five and was on the slight side.
"No, Dan, I'm just finishing up. Soon as I get this damned wedding story done, I can quit for a while."
"Everyone else is gone. Mr. Marshall told me to lock up when you're through."
He stood close to the desk now and stared down. Markanna realized she had worn a heavy sweater this morning and decided since she wouldn't be interviewing anyone, she wouldn't need a bra. Now the front of the V neck had swung forward a little and she was sure he could see the swell of one breast. Damn, she should just nod and go back to typing. She knew she had to do that.
"Hey ... uh ... Markanna, you going to use that story about Ruth McVey?"
She smiled just a little. Then looked surprised. "Oh, what did Ruth do?"
"You know...." he watched her, and she saw his eyes were green, soft green. "You know, she's pregnant."
"I told her not to start fucking around." She watched him laugh, and as he did one hand rubbed his stiffening cock again.
"Oh, wow."
"Dan, we're not going to use it, she's in trouble enough," she said.
Markanna felt the old urge hit her suddenly, like a bucket of hot blood surging through her veins. Her breasts burned and throbbed, her cunt was oozing and wet. She shifted on the chair, pushing her legs apart until her mini skirt rode up to the very edge of her panty hose crotch. He looked down. She knew he would. She saw him swallow. She wondered what his skin would look like? A hairless chest, smooth shoulders, flat little belly swelling to his hairy crotch, and then....
"Oh, Markanna, you're the prettiest girl...."
"Why thank you, Dan. I think you're a very handsome man." She leaned forward, letting her sweater bellow outward so he could see her whole left tit. "Dan, I'm sorry if I yell at you sometimes, when time's getting short."
Dan tried to catch his breath. She moved again and he could see right down the front of her sweater to her big tit. He saw the whole damned thing! Nipple and everything. He wanted to jack off right then. Damn! He'd only ever seen one whole breast before, and then it was just a little thing.
Dan held his hips very still. He knew his hand was down there somewhere, but if he moved or if he touched his prick again, he'd shoot a wad right into his pants. Not that he hadn't done that enough times before, but he couldn't even enjoy it here in front of her. He liked to really hump his hips, pretending his prick was balls deep in some" juicy cunt, some girl....
He realized she had said something to him.
"Oh, no, don't worry about it."
"But, Dan, I want you to be my friend, and friends shouldn't have any secrets. You said everyone else is gone?"
"Yeah, I locked the front, turned out the lights."
She pulled a chair at the side of her desk up close to her.
"Sit down, Dan, we need to talk over something."
She had to brush his knees as he wedged into the chair beside her. As he sat down, his knees touched hers. She saw him shiver. She put both hands on his knees and leaned forward so he could see down the V-necked sweater.
"Dan, I want to get to know you better. Have you ever kissed a girl?"
He looked down at her hands, then up at the roundness of both breast tops. He wanted to groan. Her hands on his legs shoved him so close to climaxing he could scream.
He shook his head. "Not really. Just a little peck. You know, before she can stop me."
"Dan, I know, I played that game too. But next year the girls will want you to kiss them." She paused. "Would you like to kiss me, you know, just a kind of practice?"
He nodded. He knew he couldn't speak. There would be no use trying. He had dreamed about those wide, curved, sexy lips of hers so often. Now she was leaning toward him farther, holding out her face, her lips.
He took a quick breath and leaned out too. He hit her lips too hard and she laughed softly.
"Easy, Dan. Take it easy. There's no rush, no hurry this time. I'm not running away. Now try it again, and keep your eyes open until we're kissing. Okay?"
He nodded. He knew his prick couldn't hold out much longer. If he actually did kiss her....
He leaned in again, saw her lips go out of focus but met them evenly and he held the kiss. Her hands seemed to slip up higher on his leg, then they were at his crotch and he lunged, his hips thrusting forward as he slammed the first load of cum into his jeans. He pulled off her lips, his whole body stiffening, his hands turning into claws, his breath coming like an anxious steam engine.
"Damn it, oh, no!" he groaned it out through his climax.
Her hand now covered his prick under the pants. She seemed to grip it with each squirt, and it felt wild, terrific. As he spurted his last shot of potent boycum, he felt tears stinging his eyes.
"Damn it, why did I have to do that?"
She smiled at him, kissing away the tears.
"Dan, it's nothing to be worried about. I'm complimented that you thought my kiss was sexy enough to make you cum. That's perfectly fine, in fact that's great! Don't you see, that's part of why a girl is made pretty, and attractive and sexy, so she can help her man to ejaculate, to climax. Old mother nature figured that all out a long, long time ago."
"Uh, yeah, I guess so."
"Does it make you feel good, looking at me, taking a peek down my sweater?"
He grinned and moved his head back. "Yeah, oh, yeah it feels good, you know kind of ... well...."
"Kind of sexy?"
"Yeah."
"Want to look again?" He nodded.
She leaned in so he could see both of her breasts, her hands still at his crotch, rubbing his cock mound.
"Oh, God ... so ... they're so big!"
"Why thank you, Dan. That's another nice thing you said about me. Have you ever touched one, felt of a girl's breast?"
He shook his head.
"Come on, Dan, I bet you have."
"Well, I ... I tried once. You know, just a quick touch."
She took his hand and drew it to her, placing it over her breast, tightly against the sweater. Markanna watched his face.
He took a sudden breath, and his mouth came open, his eyes went wide.
"Wow."
Slowly his hand began to squeeze, to feel her. "Hey, it's soft! I thought tits would be harder." She smiled. "Like the feeling?" His head bobbed. "Want me to feel you?"
"Yeah ... would you?"
He reached for his pants and pulled the zipper down. She knew at once he wore no shorts. The turgid prick almost leaped from the opening. He was hot and hard so quickly it amazed her. His prick wasn't as skinny as she thought it would be, it was nearly man-sized, as big as a high school boy's, and liberally coated with fresh cum. She touched it gently and watched it jerk in response.
Markanna sighed and reached up and kissed the boy again.
"Dan, there's something I have to get in the ladies' room. Would you come with me?"
He squeezed her tit and said he would. She took her purse, threw the cover over her typewriter in mid-sentence, and turned the editorial room light off.
She was out of her mind playing around with this kid's prick right out there in the open, in that glass-walled editorial office. She led him past the press to the second floor of the print shop where they had built a small rest room and lunch area. The women's John was three times as big as the men's, and held a cot against one wall. She started for the door of the girl's room and he stopped.
"Dan, I want you to come inside with me so I can show you something. I just couldn't show it to you back there in that wide-open room. You understand. Come on, there's no one else here and we can lock the door from the inside."
At last he grinned, and reached out for her breast, but she pulled away, took his hand and went into the women's John. She did lock the door, and turned to the cot. It was a good one and had been used more than once by fainting women employees. She sat down on it and looked at the place beside her.
After a moment he sat down. He hadn't zipped up his pants.
"Dan, would you like to see my breasts? Really see them and look at them for as long as you want? Make it like a see-and-tell project?"
He stared at her. "What do I have to do?"
"You're too wise for your age, Dan. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. If you want to show me your body, your prick, that would be fine."
He reached for her breasts, his hands rubbing them through the thick sweater. She caught one hand and brought it under her sweater, placed it against her flat stomach, heard him suck in a breath.
"How does that feel, Dan? Like it? You can feel more if you like. Just crawl upward."
Markanna was shivering now, little tremors of teasing joy sliding down her backbone. Her breasts burned like twin volcanos.
She wanted him to grab them, to milk them, to claw and maul and bite and chew and suck them until they were gone! She needed him to pet her, to fondle her. It was an agonizing two minutes before he worked his hand high enough to touch her breast. When he did she kissed him, and pulled him down on the cot with her. He lay partly over her, his hand pinned under his body but still on her tit. He moved to one side so he could rub her flesh better.
Slowly she began to pull up her sweater. It was half off one breast before he noticed. When he saw it moving, he stopped petting her and watched.
"Oh, wow! Oh, fucking damn wow!"
She grinned at the expression on his face. He pushed up from her so he could see better. She was flat on her back now, and with both hands she pulled the sweater all the way to her neck, exposing both towers of love, her breasts of stark white with the golden brown of a good summer tan everywhere that the bikini mini top had not covered.
"Damn!" the boy said. For a minute he stared at her tits, looking from one to the other, staring down at her flat belly, at her button, on down to where the short skirt fastened securely around her waist.
His hands moved in then, touching, feeling, gently massaging her breasts, tenderly as if he thought they would break off or bruise like peaches do.
"Oh, Dan, that feels good. A woman loves to heve her breasts petted that way, did you know that?" As she talked she found his crotch and the open zipper. Eagerly she pulled his cock out and held it. He didn't seem to notice, his eyes, his hands, his whole concentration were on her tits. She shook her shoulders, making her breasts roll and bounce. He laughed.
Markanna felt the pressure build inside her. She was trying to push her hips up at him, but couldn't. His hands worked on her tits again and she began to groan.
"No, don't stop, Dan, it just feels so good. Do you feel good too?"
He nodded and kept petting. She began to pump back and forth on his stiff prick. She couldn't remember ever feeling so sexy, so sexed up, so wanting to be fucked. The feeling grew. She wondered what it would be like to have his boyish prick inside her woman's cunt. She hadn't been fucked for almost six months now. Sure Lonny had wanted her, even got her half into the idea one night and her blouse open, but she at last said no. If she could say no after a guy had been playing with her tits, she knew he had to be the wrong man.
She groaned again, wanting to pull him down on top of her, to hump up hard to meet his little ass, his little rod. She wanted it inside her, in her cunnie.
"OOOOhhhhhh DAAAMMMNN!" she crooned. She felt the first stirrings, and knew her climax was coming. She felt the first flush of her cheeks, then her teeth began to rattle and her scalp itched. She held off until she thought she would explode. The shattering, pounding vibrations of the tremors swept down on her just as he bent to kiss her breast.
"Yes! Oh, yes!" she said in a squeaky voice that didn't sound like her. Then the waves of emotion swept her up and away. The rattling and shaking didn't seem to bother the boy riding her. He kept her tit in is mouth, grinning, and she realized now that he was humping his hips at her, and her hand had stopped moving, serving instead as his friction point.
A giant wave pushed her over the brink and she tried to get on a board for the glide down the surface slant, but missed it and wiped out, falling off the board into the crashing green water, being buried a mile below the surface with nothing but white water soup, all foam and no air, and she gasped for one more lungful of air before she died.
She wanted to rest, but he humped again into her hand, his cock against her hip, and he came again. His body stretched, his hands turned into claws on her tits. She felt his toes curl in, following some innate behavior pattern established millions of years ago in the species. Then the hot, gooey substance squirted on her hip and he was groaning and panting, yelping with each squirt like an old German shepherd dog did once when she and another girl jacked him off.
Dan collapsed on top of her, panting. Her arms went around him and held him tightly. He was so young, so inexperienced, so fresh and new. For just a moment she had the feeling that this was the most satisfying climax she'd ever had, and his cock hadn't even been inside her twat! She frowned thinking about it. Something different, yes, he was different from the dirty old bachelors who took her out assuming she would crawl into their beds with them on the first date. When she decided not to, she never heard from them again. Come to think of it, she seldom heard from the ones who she did fuck either.
But Dan was different. Young, gentle, tender. His cock and his hands built a fire under her that she hadn't known since high school, since her first time with a boy, she decided. No, not the first time, that was what she called a phony fuck, but it had been fun. Dan was something. Maybe she could teach him more about sex? Why not, she was a good teacher. And he was a good student. Most fourteen-year-old boys jacked off an average of three times a week. She had read that somewhere. When she asked the guys she went with about it, they had admitted it, saying they had stronger sexual urges than girls. What Markanna didn't tell them was that her last two years in high school, she had rubbed herself off once a week, just to keep in practice.
She tightened her grip on Dan, and he looked up at her.
He leaned back until he could focus on her.
"I still think I'm dreaming, maybe having a wet dream." He laughed softly. "I guess you are real. You're warm and soft and I can't get enough of your breasts."
Suddenly Markanna was so filled with love and tenderness that she knew she was going to cry.
CHAPTER TWO
The tears did come, streaming down her cheeks, surprising the boy, but she kissed him and let him sit up and kissed him again on both eyes.
"Don't mind me, Danny. I'm mostly an old softie. That was so beautiful with you just now, so glorious, that I wanted to cry. Girls cry sometimes when they're happy too."
He bobbed his head.
"Sorry I got it all over you that way...."
"No, darling, I loved it. It was delicious, everything you did." She blew her nose and put one of his hands back on her bare tit. "Darling, you do understand that you can't tell a soul about this, don't you? You see, you could get into a lot of trouble. We don't want that, do we? And tomorrow, when you come to work after school-no, this is the summer you don't have school, right? When you come to work, you treat me just the same way as always. We're still good friends."
He petted her breast and she felt herself start getting warm again. She pulled his hand away, kissed it and brought her sweater back in place. Her hands moved to his hips and picked up his small worm of a prick.
"Oh, your poor boy is tired. Think you can ever get him excited again?"
Dan laughed. "Every time I walk by you he's gonna be at full hard, you can bet on that."
"Dan, remember, act just the same at work, right?"
He nodded. "Now get out of here and lock up, I'll be along in a minute."
"Huh? Oh, sure." He shook his head, then reached out and patted her breasts again. "Wow, oh, man ... wow!" He turned and unlocked the door and walked away. She watched him close the outside door and heard the night latch snap on, then she went back to the couch and slumped down.
Now what the hell had she started? If the boy ever mentioned any of this to Mr. Marshall, he'd have her pussy out of work so fast she'd be eating whistle for dinner. But, damn, what a kick! The big-dicked kid got her motor running and she just didn't want to stop it. Oh, she could have, but he was so young and tender. Maybe that was it. He treated her with awe and wonder and respect. Yes, that was it, respect. He didn't assume she'd flip on her back and part her thighs as soon as he yelled, "Let's fuck." Sure he was inexperienced, maybe that was the best kind of man, one who would find out things with her, not laugh at her when she said she'd never been ass fucked.
She went in and washed her face with cold water, looked at her reflection and saw her coloring was back down to normal. She brushed her long brown hair, right then wishing she were a white, white blonde, and headed for the door.
Tomorrow was another tough morning, then she'd get Thursday off. She loved this newspapering, right now. Sometimes she hated it.
She was up on everything that was going on in town. She had a dozen projects coming up that she was helping people get publicity in the paper about. She had the ear of the mayor and half the city councilmen and once in a while a good story came along she could write her heart out on.
She knew she was no Mary Stewart or even Susan Sontag, but she did enjoy her work. Tonight? How the hell did she explain half raping that poor horny fourteen-year-old boy? She wasn't going to try to. Her sex life was something she didn't think had to be explained. It happened. You didn't plan it, and you didn't worry about it. It simply happened.
And what happened with Dan had simply been a chance occurrence. It probably would never come about again. The more she thought about it the more she thought how ridiculous it had been. Him cumming in his jeans, then all over her leg when she was in the top of a half mental climax. Well, she didn't have to get her kicks that way.
She checked her watch. It was only ten-thirty. She called Tyler from the editorial phone and he came on after three rings.
"Ty, this is Markanna, what's happening?"
"Hey, what a wild scene. I was just watching this out of sight TV show and I though how perfect it would be to have sweet little Markanna beside me.
"You're on the sofa?"
"No, damn it, I'm in bed. Why don't you come on over, spend the night."
Quickly she bristled. "Don't you ever think about anything but your balls? For God's sakes, Tyler, when the hell are you going to grow up?"
Tyler laughed. He'd seen and heard all kinds of reactions to his propositions. "Now, cool down, baby. Annie, you know damned well you didn't call me up to get the time, or to see if I needed my socks darned, or to invite me to a social tea. Admit it to yourself at least. When you called old Ty you were thinking with your cunt, and you know it. Your pussy said: 'Hey, baby, ain't it about time you got me fucked good?' So you decided to call old Ty since you got banged so damned well here a couple of months ago."
"Ty, that's stupid. I never thought any such thing."
"Hell you didn't. Come on over, we'll argue about it as we suck each other off. Got a Chink friend who said he's got a wicked new three-way idea if you feel like a wild, wild night."
"Ty, you know I can't stand that Chinese friend of yours...."
"Now, just because he put ice cubes in your pussy one night is no reason to get up tight. Hell, come over for a quick one and then if you want to go home, grab your panties and bug out."
"You're so romantic, Ty, such a sweetheart."
"My bod likes it, and your cunt likes it too. Get on over here."
She sighed. It had been such a wild day anyway, and she had half a dozen little stories to finish up tomorrow. She stared at the phone and she could almost see Tyler getting a hard-on.
"I'll be there in ten minutes," she said, and hung up the phone.
Markanna looked at the black phone for twenty seconds after she put it down. She certainly had no intention of going over there and letting that wild-man of a logger rip her clothes off.
She closed the News-Times door behind her and walked to her Pinto. The little four-banger started on the first try and she drove into the street. She absolutely was not going to Tyler's place. As she drove home she realized the decision was not firm yet. Tyler lived half a mile beyond the little town's limits, and just a half mile beyond Markanna's apartment. As she came to her turn-in, she hesitated, then scowled and drove on past. What the hell, she thought, give the big jock a thrill.
She definitely was not going to stay all night. Just a quick, discreet fuck and she'd get back home.
Markanna realized it was going to go badly when Tyler came to the door dressed only in a towel.
"What the hell, I didn't see any use dressing just to get undressed," he said.
"Ty, you're a romantic fool," she said. She invaded the refrigerator for a beer and drank it straight down with only a couple of deep breaths. She needed something to fortify herself, and Ty was too cheap to buy whiskey.
He grabbed her from behind, one hand planted firmly on each breast. "Baby, let's knock off the preliminaries and get to the cunt action, what do you say?"
He spun her around and kissed her, his big mouth slipping half off hers. She felt the drool from his mouth run down her cheek and chin. She'd forgotten what a refined gentlemen Tyler could be in a clinch.
Her hands flipped aside his towel, showing his pine-tree sized prick, erect and ready. It was bigger than she remembered. He had grabbed at her sweater when she spun away from him and ran for the door. The towel dropped off him.
"Thanks for the beer, sucker," she said, and stepped out the door, running for her car. She got it started and out onto the street before he got his pants on. She saw him at the door just as she drove away.
"Well, there goes another one," she said, ticking Tyler off her list of sometime boy friends. Her group was getting dangerously thin, and that's always a problem in a small and conservative town like Pinehills. Almost everyone knows almost everyone else. Gossip flies thick and fluently, and one pregnant girl in high school shocks the whole town for weeks until something equally unusual happens to catch the small town's attention.
Pinehills had a population, according to the latest State estimate, of 5,456. It was forty-two miles to the big city, which makes it a little too far to drive for a movie, play or even a good football game, and not quite far enough to suggest spending the night in a motel. Life was not dull in Pinehills, not exactly, but almost.
She parked in her space in the new apartment building at the edge of town and went up to her unit. It hadn't gone condominium yet. It was happening, apartments which were for lease or rent, suddenly were for sale instead. You either bought your apartment and became part owner of the condominium package, or you moved out. She paid her rent and waited for one more year when she could get back to the Journal and some daily experience and her assault on big-time reporting.
She let herself into the apartment, turned on the light and checked the temperature. Just too hot to be cool, and too cool to turn on the air conditioner or she'd be cold. Before she got to the TV, the phone rang. She got very few phone calls simply because she wasn't home long enough to hear it ring. She said hello and the voice on the other end of the line laughed. He sounded a little drunk.
"Anne, baby, that you? You get home from that damned rag of a newspaper?"
"Right, Walter. You sound pretty far gone. Let me guess. Five drinks and you missed me so much you had to call, right?"
"Uh huh. Love you, sweetheart. Why don'tcha let me come over any more?"
"You know, Walter. The last time you were a very bad boy. I had to send you home and you yelled until somebody called the police, remember?"
"I wasn't that bad. They didn't even put me in the cala ... cala ... the jail. Know what I want to do right now with you, little Annie baby sweetie?"
"Yes, I know, Walter."
"How do you know?"
"It's what you always want to do, every time I see you or talk to you."
"It's fun."
"Of course it is, Walter." She sighed. She had never heard him say a dirty word. He was a perfect gentleman until he had over two drinks, then he tried to seduce every girl he could get his hands on. He didn't care who else was in the room or where he was. His friends tried to protect him from himself, but he ran his own men's shop and didn't have to worry about money, just an occassional lawsuit for attempted rape.
"Walter, why don't you go to bed, have a good night's sleep?"
"Yeah, I am, I'm in bed."
"Good, have a fine sleep. "Night, night."
"Nope, first got to do something. See, I got this towel and I'm in bed and I'm pretending it's you."
"You just hump away, Walter, and don't you believe what the big boys say about beating off causing warts in the palm of your hand." She hung up firmly, broke the connection, then when she got a dial tone, she left the phone off the hook. Walter never tried to call back for more than five minutes. At the end of that time she put the phone back on the hook and checked the time. Almost midnight. She should get into bed. Instead she stripped and had a shower. As she toweled herself dry five minutes later, she thought about the very first time she learned about sex.
His name was Hans, and he also was a senior at Crawford High. He got a car that last semester and, after a basketball game one night, they went for a drive. She put on a short nightie and lay on top of the sheet, remembering.
They had won the basketball game that night and both of them felt great. They stopped for a shake and then drove into the edge of town to park where they could stop and look out over the lights of the city.
"Hey, let's go for a walk," Hans said. He was taller than she, and very blond. He wore glasses and had long sideburns. They found a spot where they could sit down and watch traffic far below on the main streets, then look up at the stars. She lay back so she could see the sky better and he rolled over on top of her.
"Hans, you're hurting me," she said.
He didn't answer her, his hands came up and he found her breasts and she couldn't push him away. Gradually he pressed her legs apart.
"Bet you've never been fucked, have you?" he asked.
She started to cry.
"Won't do you no damned good, Annie, I'm gonna fuck you good. Hell, it don't hurt you none."
By that time he had pulled open half the buttons on her blouse and his hands were inside on her bra. He ripped it apart. She didn't think anyone could, but it ripped and he put both hands on her tits, and she got so hot that she wanted him to do something. He pushed her legs apart more and she watched him unzip his pants.
Markanna had never seen a boy's "thing." All the girls in gym class talked about them, and how big they must be. She watched in fascination as he worked his hands into the fly and a moment later popped out with a long, thick tool. She'd thought it would be bigger. It was not even an inch thick and maybe six inches long. The girls said twice that big and nine inches long.
"You really gonna catch a fuck in the old pussy tonight," Hans said. He bent and kissed her breasts, and she wanted to sail over the moon. Then he knelt between her knees and began rubbing her cunnie. He hadn't taken off her pantyhose, just rubbed at her crotch and found the wet spot. That excited him and he rubbed faster, then he lowered himself and thrust his prick between her legs, nosing it against her crotch. Then he pushed her legs together until they were tight with his dick between them. He began to pump in and out. He went slow at first and she sensed it starting to burn, so she let her legs slip apart a little more. He began breathing harder and faster and his thrusts were harder and harder. He grabbed both her breasts and squeezed just as he spurted. She felt the juice hit her panties and splatter, and at the same time he let out a yelp of accomplishment. He punched it four or five times more, then pulled away from her and rolled over on his back, panting hard.
"Goddamn, now that was a good fuck," he said.
Markanna wanted to giggle. How could he be so dumb and not know his prick was supposed to go inside her cunt? He must be a real dummy, either that or he flunked sex education his sophomore year. Later she found out he had transferred in from some other state where they didn't have sex education classes.
She had taken two tissues from her purse and wiped the sticky stuff from her legs and panty hose as best she could, then watched him playing with his relaxing prick. She really wasn't as sexed up as she thought. The idea that he could be so dumb about girls simply turned her off.
It really didn't matter if he had fucked her or not, because the next day two boys asked her for dates that night, and it was a Wednesday. They both had cars, said they wanted to take a ride somewhere. She got the message very fast. Hans had been bragging all over school how he picked a cherry, and how she was an easy fuck. She had offers for ten dates that week, and at last chose one boy for the basketball game on Friday. She made sure he didn't have a car and he promised that he'd have her home by eleven.
He did. But as it turned out after he picked her up he gave her a drink of his can of beer and it made her high, just half a can. They never made it past the park, found a little nest behind some bushes and spent the whole four hours getting to know all about each other's bodies. His name was Carl and he wasn't about to settle for an outside job. He ripped her panties off and, by the time he had her naked, she was wanting to fuck as bad as he did. They both agreed to try it twice before they started, and after he got his hard cock inside her pussy, she nearly died it hurt so bad.
But a half hour later they tried it again and he was more gentle and nicer and she loved him hard and well and that was the first time she showed a boy where her clit was so he could rub her off. It was fantastic. The best one-two of her life. It raised her to the very top of her emotional life. Then the next day her period started and he couldn't touch her for eight long days. She always had been slow that way.
When she phoned him with the good news, she discovered he was going steady with another girl. Markanna cried for two days.
As she lay on the sheets in her apartment now, she thought back over the evening. It had been unusual. She had practically raped a fourteen-year-old boy. She had let him fondle her and jacked him off. Then she participated in an obscene phone call with the logger prick and had escaped with her panties still on. The phone had then given her a touch of her drunk pest who was masturbating in his bed and just wanted to say hello. She shook her head.
Somehow, tomorrow had to be a better day.
CHAPTER THREE
Markanna got to work at seven-thirty the next morning, finished a story on the wedding she had left unfinished the night before and ground out four more publicity type releases which she had to rewrite completely to make any sense of them. She put the finishing touches on her "People Today" feature. It was a weekly series about interesting people around town, and after two years she had covered almost a hundred individuals. She was going to run out of people some day.
She cleared her desk and found one more blurb she had to write to cover a picture she had sent to the engravers, then settled back at her desk and sighed. It was great to have her baby "put to bed" for one more issue. Tiring, frustrating, but somehow it created each week a magnificent feeling of accomplishment. She guessed it must be the after-the-game feeling when you've won a football or basketball game-some team sport.
She sat there talking with Willy, the general news editor and sports. Two of them cranked out the whole damned thing each week. Sure they had "correspondents" from the outlying communities. But most of their copy came in so bad it had to be edited heavily. Then if you cut out something, the little old lady who wrote it got angry and wouldn't send in anything for a couple of weeks. It was great news:
"Minerva Welby broke her arm last week while trying to assist in the delivery of a new colt. Mother and colt and Minerva are all doing fine." Now that one wasn't so bad. But she remembered editing another one that would be in this week. It went like this: "Andrew Trotter and his wife Marcel Trotter, and the two Trotter boys, Phillip and Harry, all went fishing at the Trotter pond over the weekend. Phillip caught seven blue gill and a bass, Harry caught six blue gill and two bass, and Andrew took the family prize with six bass including one two-pounder. Mrs. Trotter didn't even catch a cold."
"Don't let that correspondence stuff get to you, Annie," Willy said. "We all take a crack at it. I'll have it again in a couple of months and you can take sports." He grinned, knowing damn well she wouldn't do sports if they paid her double. She tried it once, reporting a football game, and it was a disaster. In the end Willy had to phone the coach to find out exactly who scored and what happened. After that she fled back to society, club, church news, and the damned correspondents.
They went on talking, not saying much. Willy was about twenty-three, he'd had his college, a B.A. in Journalism, and was also pointing for a daily job. But he wanted to get in a year here. He could go in to the Journal after a year here and get on with a one-year rating. She'd have to tell women's lib about that.
"Hey, you deaf, girl? I asked if you'd like me to pop for a free lunch. You do still eat, don't you?"
"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about the Journal, dreaming I guess. Wish I could spend some of your inflated salary, but I've got an appointment. Maybe I could break it?"
"Oh, no. Not it it's a news story. Fact is, I was going to try to get you to buy, womens' lib, you know." He grinned and waved as he left.
She did have a date. That morning she had taken some copy back to the machines and then went to the John. On her way back she passed the place where they were stuffing the insert sections into each other, then the final eight pages went around it all. Dan stood there busily inserting the sections. She smiled just watching him, he had very fast hands, working quickly, efficiently. She moved up beside him.
"Hi."
He looked up and grinned. "Hey, hi." Then he looked around quickly. No one else was in that area and the stacks of carts filled with printed sections screened them off.
"You're looking good this morning," she said, moving up closer to him. Then she was right next to him and reached out, patting his crtoch. She was amazed, his cock became hard at once. He laughed softly and looked around again. She had on a white sweater with a bra, and she nuzzled her breast up against his arm. His hand came up and patted her tit and she sensed the surge of warm blood. One more squeeze of his cock and she backed away.
"Dan, I want to see you this noon. You get off from twelve to one?" He nodded. "Meet me a block down on Second Street. I'll drive past, all right?"
He looked up, grinned and nodded, his hand going down to rub his prick.
She turned and left, not sure if she could do any more work that morning or not. But she had. Now it was noon and she closed her typewriter and walked out the back door to the parking lot.
In a small town you have to be so damned careful. She had learned that the hard way. Not everyone can know everyone else in a town of even 5,000, but here in Pinehills half the people knew about half the people, and they all were ready and eager to spread the latest dirt.
She picked up Dan on the corner a block from the paper office and drove straight for a grove of trees that overlooked the little town. She hardly said a word after picking him up.
"Dan, there's something I want to talk to you about, and I'd rather do it out of town a ways."
They rode in silence after that, but only for ten minutes, then they were there. That's one advantage of living in a small town.
She parked and looked behind them. No one was there, no one within a mile of them, and they could see anyone coming for at least half a mile.
"Dan, about last night...."
"Yeah, wild, I liked that."
"I mean you're only fourteen. I'm twenty."
She couldn't help it then, she leaned over and kissed him, forcing his lips open with her tongue, then pushing it deep inside his mouth, bringing his hands up to her breasts. At last her mouth came away from his. Her heart was racing. She breathed like the oxygen was running out. His hands rubbed against her tits.
"Oh, Dan. I don't know what to do. You excite me so. You make me want to pull all my clothes off. I love it when your hands are on my breasts that way."
She was surging, her temperature rising, and she knew there was no way to stop it. His hands went under her sweater and found her bra cups.
"Damn," he said.
"Here, let me help," she said. She reached in back and opened her bra. Markanna shivered as his bare hands touched her unprotected tits. The shiver turned into a groan and she leaned back in the seat, pulling him with her. Her head was against the door, his hands devouring her breasts, playing with them, squeezing them.
One of her hands moved down where his crotch should be. She found it, found the zipper already open, and pulled his stiff cock out of his pants. She gripped it tightly and moved where she could see his face.
"Dan, tell me exactly how you feel, right now, this instant!"
"How? Wow? I feel hot and sexy, I feel my hard-on. I'm breathing faster and still not getting enough air. I guess I'm up-tight and nervous too, I don't even hear as well as usually. And I'd like to poke my cock right inside you."
"Look around, Dan. See anybody, or anybody coming?"
"No."
"Good. Dan, I'm very fond of you and I enjoy being with you. But, darling, I just can't let you fuck me. What if I got pregnant? Could you support me? Let's just take it slow and fool around a little. You know, rub each other off and mess around. Don't you like me holding your prick?"
He nodded.
"Well, sure. I like holding it. I like your rubbing my boobies. So let's just have fun. Why don't you chew them, try to suck off a tit."
He went down on her and she groaned in pleasure, trying to have a climax the way she had done before, but it wouldn't come. She wanted to reach down and hit her clit twice, that's all it would take, she knew. But his leg was in the way. She pumped his sweet cock twice, then twice more. He must be close. She pumped his dick again and felt him begin to stiffen. She stroked back and forth then, as fast as she could, and felt him gasping and chewing and the cum squirting out somewhere. She let him pant against her tits after he was though. She wondered how fast he could cum again?
She'd heard that some high school seniors could cum five times in an hour. She had no proof. What would get him going again? Her crotch! She could show him her pussy. As he panted out the last of the emotional surge, she took his hand and slid it under her skirt. He tensed and looked at her.
"I thought you said you couldn't?"
"You can still mess around down there."
"Hey, great!" He rose and looked in back of them, then on all sides and settled down. "All clear to mess around."
She almost screamed before he worked his hand up her leg to her crotch. Then he was so damned gentle he didn't do anything for her. She caught his hand, pushed it over the right spot and showed him how to rub hard on her clit.
"Right there, Darling. It'll make me explode again. Remember the way I did last time?"
He rubbed, and rubbed harder, he was twanging her on every third try. But it built for her, higher and faster and more and more. When she thought she would explode right out of the car, he touched her twice in a row at exactly the correct spot, and her tiny node signaled the troops and she went into orbit.
Markanna wasn't sure when she came down, it was a long winding staircase that floated on nothingness all the way to the sun. She was on top of it and gradually riding down the banister. She came in descending loops, swirls and plunges that swept away the last of her breath and left her sinking into a gentle sea of pleasure. She was aware of his surprise at the power of her climax.
When she could talk, she grinned. "And that was how a woman climaxes. Was I wild?"
He nodded. "Yeah, wild. I thought you were gonna crawl right out of the car."
"That was a good one, darling, a very good one. You bring out the best in me."
"I'd like to be in you."
"Hush with that kind of talk and play with me.
You ready to cum again?"
He shook his head.
"Move over into your seat."
He did and she spread his legs, looked around the summer countryside, then went down toward his cock with her mouth. She kissed it first, then licked around the cum-slick head and watched the little boy humping.
"Oh, damn, that's good. That's wild, Annie, just wild."
She stayed there, played with his balls with one hand and stroked his cock with the other. It wasn't long before he was groaning.
"Look out!" he yelped, and she struggled to get her mouth over the end of his boycock. He gushed into her mouth with his first glob of hot sticky boycum, then another and another. She swallowed them so fast she didn't taste them, and then came away and watched him.
"Holy cow, you ate my cum!"
"Yes, that's because I like you, because you're something special."
"Nobody'll believe me."
"They damn well hadn't better, Dan, because you're not going to tell a single living person, right?"
"Right, but wow! Holy cow!" She patted his prick which had drooped almost at once and stuffed it back in his pants.
"You want to be late getting back to work?"
"What time is it?"
"Ten to one."
"Hey, let's go!"
She hooked her bra and asjusted her sweater, then drove.
"Dan, did you enjoy what we did today?"
"Wow, sure. That was the most. I mean it's more than I ever dreamed of, or thought up, you know when I jack off. That was great."
"Thank you, Dan. Girls like to be appreciated, like to be told they're enjoyed. Do you think we could play around again sometime?"
"Yeah, sure, any time's fine with me. I like your body. Damn, but you're pretty, and you've got big tits."
She laughed, and grinned at him. This boy was growing on her. She knew she had to stop seeing him. If it ever got out, what a news story that would make! She could see it splashed across page one with an 8-column banner: Society Editor Rapes Teenager!
She looked at him and saw how serious he was.
"Hey, am I going to be late?"
"No, I'll let you off just this side of the plant and you can scamper in the back door, nobody'll notice."
She smiled at his concern. He'd just been jacked off twice, played with her tits and had his hands all over her pussy, and his big worry was if he'd be a minute late getting back to work. At least he was soft and gentle, not like Tyler the logger, or Walter. She wondered how Willy would be in bed. Editors should make good lovers. She really had no thought of trying to get him between the sheets. She had to work with the guy all day and half the night. It would be too much of a strain on both of them to be lovers too.
She drove faster and had Dan back to work in time. Then she circled the parking lot and went back out. She wanted at least a hamburger before getting back to work.
Wednesday afternoons around the paper were get ready for next week time for the editorial staff. She often tried to do a feature then, something without a news peg or any time element. But today she worked on correspondence that came in too late for this week, and wrote up ten or fifteen little squibs from the clubs: new officers, activities, promotions, money raising projects-the normal fare for a small-town weekly society section. About four o'clock Willy came back from some kind of a city recreation meeting and looked absolutely beat. He threw his camera and tape recorder on the desk and fell into his chair.
"You look too pooped to participate," Markanna said.
"Annie, with you I could find strength enough to get it up."
She looked at him and he stared at her, not glancing away as he often did. The longer he looked, the harder it was for her to turn away. At last she smiled and walked toward him.
"Now what's all this heavy staring about?"
"I'm tired, and when I get tired I think about going to bed, and then I think of you. When'm I going to get you into bed?"
The editorial office was a small two-desk room hidden away from the clank of the machinery and far enough away from the publisher to make it hard for him to yell at them. No one else could hear what was said there.
Markanna nodded. "You're right, Willy, you are tired. But thanks, that's the best proposition I've had all day."
"Yeah, well forget it."
"No, Willy, I won't. I'll remember it. That's the sort of idle chatter that keeps up a girl's hopes." They looked at each other again, and at last he grinned.
"Okay, don't forget it. Remember it. Markanna, you're one hell of a good man, and besides that you're one hell of a great-looking, sexy broad. So let's keep the lines open?"
She grinned, wanting to kiss his cheek, but knowing it wasn't the right time. It did give her a whole new slant on Willy, and she liked this slant better.
She finished out the day until five, cleaned up her desk and checked for the page proofs on the final society section. She made two small changes, then left the rest of it to Willy for the front section page proofs.
On her way home, Markanna worried about the boy again. Why did she seem to thrill so much when she saw him, when he touched her? Had it simply been that long since a man had been nice to her? That long since a man had treated her like a female person, and not simply a bitch to fuck?
She fixed herself an elaborate dinner, then phoned a friend to come over for some cards, or ping pong or pool in the recreation room at the apartment complex. The girl was Arlene Leslie. She was about twenty-five and ran a woman's wear shop in town. Markanna had done a feature on her for the people department and they found they had a lot of similar interests. Arlene said she'd be over in half an hour.
"No date, huh?" Markanna asked.
"Right, we can cry together," Arlene said.
When Arlene came to the door, she had a small overnight bag. Inside the room, she whipped out a fifth of Scotch.
"Ta, taaaaaaa!"
"Looks like you came prepared," Markanna said.
"Damn right. Tonight I'm gonna get plastered. I'm gonna tell you about my sex life, and that always depresses me. Listen, kid, maybe you can learn something and not make the same fucking mistakes I have."
CHAPTER FOUR
It made Markanna laugh, but Arlene was serious.
"Look, I'm twenty-five, I've got my own business but not a prospect in sight. I'm ready to get married, and all the guys who would have me are gone. Just the slobs are left, believe me, they're slobs."
They turned on a stack of records on the stereo and settled down to light drinks. Markanna liked this girl, she had from the first time she met her on a whirlwind flight to find something to wear for her interview at the paper. They double dated once or twice, and went bicycling and skiing together. But now things were much more serious.
"No lie, girl, I got problems. Hell, we got problems. There just aren't any good men left in this town. Sure, I know, a few, and some new ones come in, but for the Saturday night dance at the Legion hall, we're stuck with your buddy Walter or a couple or three other guys. Then of course there's the logger. What's his name?"
"You mean Tyler?"
"Yeah, that filthy sonofabitch. Ripped a blouse off of me one night. I told him I was taking it off and he tore it, ripped it to pieces. I couldn't very well walk home then."
"Tyler is a bum." Markanna looked at the woman critically. She was twenty-five, stood about five feet seven and had a good figure. A little tummy, but good breasts, and smallish waist and legs that were not heavy. She was pretty, too, and dressed with a flair that make Markanna feel like a clod. But she was unhappy. She seemed to have everything. Her own business, enough money so she drove a Corvette, clothes. She took a two-week skiing vacation last year to Sun Valley and had another week in Florida.
Markanna pulled her thoughts back to what the girl said.
"Annie, if I made as many mistakes with my shop as I did in bed, I'd be broke a dozen times. Hell, I just don't know who the shit to fuck and who not to."
Markanna laughed nervously. When Arlene started talking dirty, it make her uneasy.
Her brown eyes snapped. "Look, I haven't had a good lay for a week, right? Hell, I haven't had even a good feel for a week. So this guy was in the store today buying some things for his wife or girl or shackup, I don't know which. I asked for a size and he shakes his head. I asked for measurements and he laughs, and gives me the old one, you know where he cups his hands like he's putting them around boobies. He holds them out in front of him and about three inches from my tits.
"I want to step forward and say, 'About this size?' Now that's crazy, right? So I forgot it and sold the guy thirty freaking bucks worth of frilly stuff. He'll probably come back and exchange them. But the point is I can control it down at the shop, I think."
Markanna turned the volume down on the stereo and built them new drinks. She enjoyed talking with Arlene.
"Goddamn, sometimes I think our mothers had it easy, you maybe let a guy kiss you, and if you're real bold you let him feel up your titties once or twice before you get engaged. You kept him wanting it, and let him know that until you get that damned ring on your finger he isn't going to see the inside of your panties. It sure seemed to work. Now what's a broad got left to bargain with, to entice with? Mystery? Shit, a guy like Tyler gets you in his car and kisses you once, then he's ripping off your blouse and grabbing your tits and asking you why the hell you're so slow getting your pantyhose off and your knees apart. They just take fucking for granted on the first goddamn date. Oh, it's wild, sure, the old fuck or don't fuck game isn't on the tenth date now, it's the first one, but it's fun to see how many of the creeps you can put down hard. Some of them are actually shy! I'm not kidding. Every now and then I go out with a guy who'll hold my hand, and not dance too close and then gets up his courage to kiss me goodnight at the door. It seems like the fifties I hear the girls talk about. Now that's groovy."
"If you find any of them, save one for me," Markanna said.
"I've got one now I'll give you. He's a great guy, but just a little young for me. You already know him. You work with him, you dodo bird. Willy Jones."
"Willy?"
"Yeah, I went out with him twice, a play and a football game. He didn't even try to grab me. He's a great one."
Markanna thought about their conversation that afternoon. It was the only real romantic or sexy spark they had ever struck. She smiled.
"Annie, why do I keep goofing with men? Face it, I could say stop sometimes when they start getting sexy. I mean I've still got some backbone and can say no to the old pussy punching if I really want to. I just wish a girl didn't have to do it every date. I'd like to relax instead of being in a battle zone all the time. I relax, get one drink and the guy's got his hand on my boobies before I know he's planning an invasion. Last Saturday night, I had a date. Nice guy, a friend of a friend. We took in a movie, then stopped by at the Legion dance and had a couple of drinks, then outside in the car he starts to paw me. But this guy is different. He comes right out and says that he wants to fuck me and he didn't want to fight with me. He unzips and pulls out his cock, hard and hot. He took my hand and put it on his prick, then he kissed me, sexy and long.
"Hell, what can a girl do. By the time he got his tongue out of my mouth, I was ready to fuck him on the courthouse steps. He fought dirty, right?"
"That was a different approach. Of course you could've jumped out of the car."
"Maybe I didn't want to. Maybe I'm a fuck freak."
Markanna shook her head. "No, Arlene, you're a woman. Any woman worth her D cups likes to fuck, you know with the right man and in the right situation. It's the way we're built. With men it's different. They're the fuck freaks, they want pussy any where, any time, under any conditions."
Arlene watched her closely. "Uh huh. You've been made a few times. I wasn't sure at first, but you have your share of fun fucks ... and I expect a few that weren't so much fun. I'll always remember my first real humping. It was wild. Can I tell you about it?"
"Well, sure, if it isn't too, you know, personal," Markanna said.
Arlene wore a light green blouse with the tails tied at her stomach, leaving a band of tanned girl skin. She reached one hand over and rubbed one breast with the side of her thumb, scratching it unconsciously.
"I don't know, I want to tell you. I've never told anybody, so help me Henry Kissinger. But I want to tell you."
"Let's make some dip as you talk," Markanna said.
They went to the kitchen. Markanna got down the onion soup mix and sour cream. She noticed Arlene's blouse tails had come untied and the only thing holding her blouse together were the middle two buttons.
"Well, I was in high school, naturally, where else? and had just turned fifteen. Now I don't see how I lasted so long, I mean a cherry at fifteen in our high school must've been a record. There was a lot of pot around and most of the kids who smoked tried pot and some pretended to get high and some really did get stoned out of their minds.
"We had this field over at the side of the school where we used to meet to share a doubie or two. This one day near the end of the year we got to smoking at noon on our lunch hour. I was at the end of the line for the one number we had that day and by the time it got down to me, the bell rang. I said to hell with it, I was gonna have my three drags. The guy next to me was cute, and I'd kind of dug him and he said he had an open period. So I stayed and took my three drags, then gave it to Glenn.
"About that time we were the only ones there. This field had a lot of tall weeds and we always sat down near this dry ditch so nobody else could see us and horn in.
"So there we sat, Glenn and I, and I got another puff and when I put it out, he reached over and kissed me. Just a little smack on the lips, but at fifteen ... endsville. I moaned and groaned, you know....
"'Oh, Glenn, that ... that kiss was just ... heaven. Just perfect, know what I mean?'
"He slid over closer to me so our legs touched and I felt the warmth of his leg.
"'Maybe we should try it again, just for practice?'
"Before I could do anything about it, he kissed me again, and this time he bent me backward so we were lying on the soft grass. I never really felt his hand come over my breast. When I realized it was there, I treid to push it away. He held tighter and kissed me harder. I knew I was coming apart. My mind took off in all directions and my body felt so hot, I thought my breast was going to catch on fire. He kept kissing me and brought his other hand up on my breasts. At last I got my mouth free.
"'Don't, Glenn. I don't want you to feel me,'
"'But I want to,'
"'You're not being nice."
"'No, but doesn't it feel good?'
"'You get caught, you'll be in trouble."
"'So will you, little pussy. Come on, let's explore. You ever seen a boy's hard cock?'
"'Of course not."
"Wouldn't you like to? Just take a quick look?'
"I wished I hadn't stayed then. I was late, I was cutting English. The teacher would have a fit.
"No, I don't want to look at you, now let me up."
"'Let me look at your bare tits and I'll let you go.' " 'No."
"'Then I'll look anyway. I'm bigger than you are, and stronger. I might tear your blouse.' "I started to cry.
"He laughed. That won't work. Not on old Glenn. I've seen too many cunts like you cry. You really want it, right now you want it. Admit that you want me to fuck you."
"'No."
"'You do, though, you know you do. You just won't admit it. You've dreamed for three years of a boy doing this, so why not relax and let us both have more fun?'
"As he was talking he'd got his hand under my blouse and all at once he lifted and pushed upward on my bra and it scraped across my breasts and they hung free. When his hand closed around my bare tit, I tried to yell, but his mouth was over mine again, stopping any sound.
"I held out as long as I could. His hand was melting my breast, dissolving the last of my resistance.
"He felt it, and the moment I relaxed he came off my mouth and lifted my blouse. He didn't even unbutton it, just pulled it up to my neck.
"His eyes sparkled as he looked at my boobies. I was crying now, softly. He rubbed both my breasts, then bent and kissed them. Before I knew it, he had my legs spread. I'd worn a skirt that day for the first time in weeks. He lifted my skirt and jerked at my panties. I never knew when he got them down, but suddenly his big hot prick nosed against my cunt and I did scream. His hand stopped it.
"Then he was jamming at my cunnie, jamming and jamming until at last he broke through and I relaxed and he got his cock inside me. It hurt, I didn't know how to explain how it hurt, I was crying louder then, but he didn't notice. He was humping into me hard. I felt him sliding in and out of me and I kept waiting for that glorious feeling one girl had told me about. It simply never came. He hit me hard four or five more times, then jerked out fast and zipped up his pants. He lay there panting on the grass.
"I had to get my panties up and my skirt down and my blouse back in place. I felt like a mess. I'd been fucked and it was not good at all. Just the first part. I cried all the way back to the girls' room. When I went into English class I had red eyes and Miss Warnick frowned at me at first then asked to see me after class. She didn't even report me tardy. She guessed that something had happened. I saw a determined little line at the side of her mouth. The next day when we came to school, the field of weeds was gone. Someone had dropped a cigarette in it, the word was, and it burned up. When I asked Miss Warnick about it, she only smiled."
Arlene leaned back against the kitchen sink, a chip half-way to her mouth. "And that's the way I got my first prick." She pushed the chip into the dip Markanna was stirring, and chewed it. "Just right, don't add anything more. Delicious. Let me freshen our drinks."
They went on talking about men, boys and sex for another hour, and at the end of the time, Arlene frowned. "Damn it, I'm getting very drunk. Maybe we should call up Walter and have him bring his cock over here and throw it into both of us, give him a flashy three-way job."
Markanna laughed. "Arlene, you're getting a little drunk. You do know that."
"A little isn't enough, I need to get swacked."
The door bell rang.
"Wow, good old drunk Walter's here already," Arlene said.
When Markanna went to the door, she called out to find out who it was before she opened it. "Paperboy, collecting."
"Just a minute until I get my purse," Markanna said.
Arlene stopped the other woman.
"Honey, how old's your paperboy?"
"Oh, fourteen, maybe fifteen."
"Let's play a trick on him." She headed for the bathroom. "Stall him a little, then bring him inside so you can see better or something."
Markanna shrugged. "Okay." She went to the door and invited him in. He was a stocky youth about five-eight, with long hair and the start of a mustache.
"Let me find my other purse, it's the one with the money in it," Markanna said. She started for the kitchen when she heard the boy gasp behind her. She turned around to see Arlene coming into the room, bare-ass naked.
"Darling, did I leave my glasses in here? I can't seen to find them," Arlene said. She was squinting her eyes and holding her hands in front of her so she wouldn't bump into any of the furniture.
The boy dropped his book of paper receipts. His mouth sagged open.
"My gosh!" he said and began rubbing his crotch.
Markanna picked up her purse and went back as if nothing had happened. "Let's see, that's three dollars even, right?"
Arlene looked toward her. "Oh, darling, do we have company?"
"It's the paper boy."
"Good, I'd like to meet him. Where is he?"
Markanna took her hand and led her to the boy who had hardly moved except to rub his now-stiff prick trapped inside his pants.
"Mrs. Webster, this is our paper boy. I'm sorry, I never did get your name."
"Billy," he mumbled. He couldn't look away from her tits. Then he did and stared at her crotch filled with a muff of brown hair. "Wow!" Billy said softly.
"What, dear?" Arlene said, still faking it. "Wow, I said."
"Dorothy, darling, you're not dressed," Markanna said.
Arlene felt of her body with one hand, then shrugged, making her big breasts bounce. "It doesn't matter, I'm sure Billy has seen a girl undressed before. He probably sees tits and cunts all the time and gets fucked three times a week. Right, Billy?"
Billy blushed. It had been a long time since Markanna had seen a boy turn that red. He shook his head. "No, ma'am. I don't."
"Well then you should." She moved forward, dropping her blind pose and taking his hand. She drew it to her breast and smiled. "There, darling, how does that feel?"
Billy blinked and turned toward Markanna.
"It's perfectly all right, Billy, you can play with her tits. She likes you to. Humor her."
Billy did. He put both hands on her orbs and rubbed them.
"My, Billy, you are a sly one. You're quite a ladies' man, aren't you? But I'm going to have to sit down before I faint. Help me over there to the couch."
He did and after they were sitting on the couch, she put his hands back on her breasts.
Markanna watched it all with a little grin. It had been so perfectly staged, so well carried out. The poor kid was trapped and he didn't know it. As she watched him she was aware that her own blood was getting hotter. She wanted to take his shirt off, to feel his skin, to play with him. Her breasts began to glow, then to burn. She looked at his pants and saw the bulge, it was bigger yet. He must have a big pecker down there.
She knew exactly what she was going to do as she walked toward him. She knelt down beside him and began rubbing the inside of his leg. He looked over at her with another glance of absolute stark disbelief. Then when she put her hand on his pants bulge, and began to rub his prick, the boy laughed nervously.
"Hey, what's going on. Are you two trying to rape me?" he asked.
CHAPTER FIVE
Markanna edged backward. Arlene laughed, reached out and kissed him on his lips. She eased away.
"Now, honey boy, why the hell would we want to try to rape you? We get all the cocks we want. On the other hand, how many times you been fucked this past week? None I bet. Bet you've never even had your hand on a girl's tit this week, right?"
"Well, yeah, most girls I know are ... well .,. ."
"A little cold. Rigid little bitches, right?" Arlene said. "Well, Billy baby, you stick with us, maybe you can stick it in us if you play your cards right."
Markanna moved back beside him, rubbed his crotch, then opened his belt and zipped down his pants. He didn't help her. She pushed his pants aside and rubbed the lump behind his shorts.
"My, Billy, what a dandy, what a big prick," Markanna said.
Arlene looked at her and winked.
"Billy, give me another kiss. Come on, lay one on me, show me how smooth you really are." They kissed and, as they did, Markanna pulled and pushed and worked his prick out of his pants. Then she untied his shoe laces and pulled his shoes off. She tugged at his pants until he lifted up a little and she slid his jeans and shorts both down at the same time, then off his ankles.
"Oh, yes, Billy, you look lots better now," Markanna said, "and a hell of a lot sexier." The kiss broke up and she turned Billy toward her. "Billy, I can't seem to get these fucking buttons undone on my blouse. Can you help me?"
He gulped, looked from Arlene's tits, and to Markanna's tightly stretched blouse. He sighed and nimbly unbuttoned the blouse and helped her out of it.
"That hook in the back, Billy," Markanna said. He reached around her to unhook the fastener, and as he did Markanna kissed him hard on the mouth. He groaned and when Markanna looked down she saw that Arlene was pumping his thick short prick back and forth.
"Wow, it won't take much of that," Billy said. He grabbed one of Markanna's big floppers. "Wow, I don't believe it, all of these bare tits jumping around!"
Markanna laughed. She had never seen another woman's breasts, at least not for very long-glimpses, flashes. Now Arlene's were just hanging there. The boy touched them. It was marvelous. She began getting hot again, sexy hot. Anything seemed all right, fine, even needed.
Without a word she peeled out of the rest of her clothes, helped Billy off with his shirt and led the other two into the bedroom.
"If we're going to get to some serious sex, the good old bed is the place to start," she said.
Arlene jumped on the bed and got on her hands and knees.
"Crawl underneath on your back, Billy and play catch a tit, bounce for one with your mouth. Suck an ice cream cone."
He laughed and wormed under her from the side and began chewing. Markanna pushed his legs apart where they fell off the side of the bed and played with his balls, then his hard prick. She began kissing around his crotch, then his hard stick, from roots to the end of his pulsating cock. When he looked down he saw her slip his cock into her mouth and he groaned.
"Hey, I don't believe it. Tough, fantastic!" he crowed. Then he began humping upward into her mouth. She took it, letting his short stubby prick graze the top of her mouth with each stroke. He groaned and moaned.
Billy could hardly believe what was happening to him. He came to get his monthly paper money as usual, and then this naked broad walks out. A real slick one, tall, thin and stacked like a goddamn brick shithouse. Big tits, yeah! Just like he always dreamed about, and there she is pretending not to be able to see him. So he went along with her gag. If she wants him to look at her tits and her crotch, pubic hair and all, he'll certainly not disappoint her. Then she touches him and pulls his hands onto her tits for a feel.
Kerist! He shot one load right there, right in his jeans, and neither one of the women knew it. He didn't even hump his hips, he could control his cumming so well. Then first thing he knew the other one gets into the act and is rubbing his prick. He was afraid he was going to cum again, but just by luck he didn't.
And then they all three were naked and walking into the damn bedroom. Now he was sure that he was gonna get a piece of tail, some real fucking, not like that quick one in the woods with Harry's little sister. Little, hell she was fourteen and had a peter hole on her like a fucking cow. He bet she'd been reamed out a dozen times already.
He couldn't get his eyes off the tits. Damn, this was living! And now he was lying under this bitch with tits as big as a holstein, and what did she say? She told him to go ahead and chew on them, kind of bob for tit. Then she lowers one of those big luscious tits right down into his mouth! Damn, he had almost cum again. This was bitchin'! Wild. He'd never seen so much girl, so much tit, and pussy hair all over. Now that one was fooling around with his prick.
Kerist! She's kissing me down there, down around my balls. Oh, shit. She just took my fucking cunt hole cock in her mouth! It's coming. No way I can hold back the damn jism, man, she's gonna get a snoot full of cock juice.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHH," he groaned as his load shot and he lay there with his mouth on one tit, and another mouth licking up his hot sticky cum.
Over the boy, Arlene bounced her tit up and down in his mouth Eat it, you little fucker, she thought. She was gonna teach this cherry-boy a fucking few things before this session was over. She saw Markanna go down on his prick. The lucky little bitch. But there would be plenty, these young kids could cum ten times an hour if they tried.
She moved so he worked the other tit in his mouth below, wishing he'd examine her lower. She leaned on one hand for a moment and took his hand and moved it to her crotch. Yeah, that was better, his fingers messing around her short cunt hairs.
Arlene shivered. She heard him climax in Annie's mouth, and now she felt his hand moving around her pussy. She spread her legs more and he found the room, pressing upward, probing, missing her clit. He would try again, he had to! She wanted him to touch her cunnie, just once right now. She moaned and felt the boy moving below her. He pulled down one arm and lifted, lowering her onto her side, then rolling her on her back.
She saw Annie slide off to the floor. The kid spread her legs and watched as she pulled her knees up, making her cunt spread open so he could see it through her thick bush of pubic hair.
"Wow! Oh, wow!" he said softly. He looked down at her. "Hey, you care if I touch it, fool around?"
"Billy, sweetheart, I want you to, play with my pussy all you want."
She felt his hands feeling her, brushing past her dicking hole, coming back, spreading her legs more, finding her asshole, then moving up to the soft wetness with the swollen outer lips and red, oozing, ready-to-fuck cunt. His fingers stroked past one way, then the other, and at last pressed in an inch. He yelped in surprise, then pushed his finger in deeply, all the way to his knuckle. He pulled it out and inserted two fingers in her, and then tried three. The three filled her up, pressing against the unstretched walls. He began punching in and out, finger-fucking her to a tune that made her yearn for the real tool.
She had to talk. Arlene couldn't help it. Some men hated it when she talked during a fuck, but she always did. It helped her somehow. She couldn't stop it.
"Darling, that's good. Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, Billy, can't you get it any deeper inside me? Try, darling, get in there deeper. Try something else, try anything else."
She sat up and caught hold of his hot prick. It had risen so fast she was surprised. He was hot and ready. "Yes, Billy darling, put your prick inside me. Please, Bill. Poke it into me. Fuck me, fuck me, right now!"
She pulled him between her spread, lifted thighs, drew him by his saber, hot and pulsating, drew him forward over her and down, down toward her heartland, her cuntland, her well-worn playpen.
It hit center-in, and he looked at his prick, surprised as it began to wedge into her sloppy pussy. Musky and wet and juicy, like a cunt should be.
"Darling, yes, harder, push in and then come out a little and push in harder and come out a little. Just easy fuck it into me, sweet little Bill fucker, ease it in me and I'll make you cum like you've never blasted loose before."
Bill realized it just about the time he felt his prick wedge past the last tight muscle and it slid into her up to his nuts. His cock was inside her. He was fucking her! Damn, what a paper route.
He let his boycock ride in her pussy easy and lowered himself so he was leaning with his bare chest on her tits. Holy shit, but that felt good too. Her boobies getting smashed by him, pressed down, so hot and her nipples hard and tall. He felt her legs lift a little and he crawled up on her, banging his prick tighter into her hole. Damn, how big was a girl down there? His prick was only five inches long, but that's a deep hole. 'Course kids came out of that same hole, and they were, wow, huge compared to his old dick.
He slammed it in hard and jerked it out and powered it into her again. She groaned in appreciation. He was sure she liked it. As he fucked he felt something beside him on the bed. The other woman, the one he remembered as being Miss ... damn he couldn't even remember her name, but she lived here. She was lying beside them on the bed, only she was the other way around. She sat up so he could see her pussy and he was surprised how blondish her cunt hair was. The woman smiled at him and spread her legs more.
She whispered in his ear.
"Bill, want a little lunch? I ate your cock, now according to the rules, you got to eat my pussy. Just get your face right down in there and push your tongue up my cunt hole. You'll like it."
He stared at her. She nodded, kissed his lips, washed them off with her tongue and then he remembered. She had eaten his cock, he remembered that, but he never thought ... He looked at her cunt again and watched as it moved as she worked some muscles in her stomach or legs. It looked so red, and swollen, pulsating. Cunts must swell up like cocks do when they get hot. Figured. He jammed into the one girl with his cock and leaned away from her breasts so he could see her cunt better. Damn, her hair was almost blonde down there, blonde cunt hairs. Supposed to make a woman sexier. He'd heard the older guys say that.
He moved a little more, then her hand caught his head and pulled it down, down until he was between her legs. He didn't believe it. Right there somewhere, out of focus, was her cunt, and she held him close. He stuck out his tongue, felt it hit dry skin. Her leg. She moved him upward and he smelled some faint perfume. He'd heard that whores put perfume on their cunts to hide the dead fish smell.
Kerist, what a bitch. She didn't smell like fish, more like sweat and perfume, and ... hell ... just girl. He probed again with his tongue and felt it touch something wet. Now both girls moaned. He fucked one hard then probed with his tongue. She pushed his head down hard, his tongue jamming straight into the center of her cunt lips and she exploded with a climax that lasted an entire two minutes. She bounced and bucked, humping her hips upward at him until he thought she would throw him right out of her crotch. But she held him in there. He felt more fluid gush into his face and she went into another series of spasms and shakes that made him dizzy. He tried to keep fucking his dick into the one on her back below him.
Markanna had never experienced a climax like this one. It was only the second time she'd ever climaxed with a man's face in her cunt. This was the wildest ever. It began with the electric fireflies sparking every nerve ending in her body, making her tingle all over, and then she got hot, so hot she thought she was going to turn into a cinder any moment. The heat faded away as she plunged into the icy blue waters of a cave of iridescent water, cold, but sparkling, with a sun that couldn't possibly be there so far underwater. Fishes of every shape, size and coloration swam by, and soon she caught sight of a beautiful man with the tail of a fish, but his frontal fin turned out to be a huge cock half as long as his body.
She swam toward him without any scuba or face mask, breathing rapidly, but he always stayed ahead of her. She surfaced and opened her eyes and saw a dizzy pattern of a ceiling and arms and legs flailing over her.
"Come on, Bill, fuck, don't just lay there," Arlene said.
Bill pumped again, and felt it coming. His head was out of her legs now. Something dripped off his nose onto her hair below him. The jism came and he grunted as he drove into her one final blow and came away with a sense of total relaxation.
Arlene lay under the boy as he pumped and almost from the first stroke had been working a climax. They came so quick and fast and close together that it seemed like one long mind-boggling cum. She thrilled to it for a minute, then two, then three. It never peaked, never made her scream or pass out like one girl she knew always did. But it made her want to live forever with a cock ramming in and out of her drooling cunt. The roaring, surging, drumfire of splendid, thrilling, emotional release was so intense that she never wanted to let go of it.
When he climaxed, she relaxed, let it drain away, die down, and by the time he came out of her she was ready to get up and go again, any which way. But first she needed a drink. Arlene got off the bed without a word and waddled into the kitchen on flat bare feet.
As soon as she left, Markanna sprang up, caught Bill's hand and hurried him into the living room. She helped him dress, gave him a five-dollar bill for the newspaper, and tied his shoes. She hurried him out of the apartment, then sagged against the door. As she began getting back some of her wits, she realized she was still naked. She picked up the rest of her clothes and carried them into the bedroom where she pulled on a blouse and skirt. By the time Arlene came back, she had a drink in one hand and her clothes from the bathroom in the other.
"Party pooper," Arlene said and giggled.
Markanna sat on the edge of the bed, laughing and shaking her head. "Did you see the look on his face when he saw you come around the edge of the hall? He saw those big bouncing tits of yours and dropped his book and his pencil and didn't even notice it."
"Yeah, I saw. I was getting the hots for him right then, and he didn't even know it. I had a man do that to me once in his apartment. He invited me up for a cocktail after some recital over at the college, and asked me to fix drinks. He said he'd be right back. He went into the bathroom, stripped and walked out, as calm and casual as could be. I wound up staying all night. He was one of the good ones I let get away."
"Yeah, but how can you shake hands with a naked man? Say nice try, buster, maybe next time, or wait until date ten?"
Arlene nodded and sighed. She slid into a blouse but didn't bother buttoning it. "I don't know, Annie. Like I said, most of my mistakes have been fucking mistakes, I never know who to bang and when to hold off. Come to think of it, I guess I've only really lost out once on a man I wanted by being too coy. He was a Ph.D. in physics out at Saddleback State, and he simply insisted on fucking the first date or forget it. He was a brain, making loads of money, and probably would've latched onto any woman who'd have put up with him. He's married now, a kid, dean of the faculty, up for promotion...."
Markanna stared at Arlene, trying not to look at the half breast that showed through her open blouse.
"Arlene, do you get especially turned on by kids, boys like Bill?"
"Huh, especially turned on? Hell, he's a man with a cock. That's enough for me."
"But what about younger ones, say thirteen? You know, just big enough to get a hard-on, but they don't know anything about girls, breasts, legs. Does that age kid get you hot?"
"Doesn't bother me. I guess I could get hot with a thirteen-year-old. Sure, why not. A cock's a cock. I've shown a couple of kids younger than Bill the ropes. It's a kick, you know. But I've never gone out and run them down the streets, or trapped one just coming out of junior high. Knew a woman who did that once, she was thirty-six. But she was sick, off the old clock. They finally had to put her away, and treatment. Big scandal. Not here in Pinehills however."
"Course, Arlene, Bill was underage. Could we get accused of raping him?"
"Dog bites man, man bites dog. I guess they could figure it that way. Maybe women's lib has finally made it. Now a woman can be accused of rape. The NOW ladies will be thrilled right down to their dried up cunts."
Markanna absorbed the opinion and felt a little sinking throb in her chest. It wasn't like that, she told herself. At the paper, Dan was just a friend, ans she was only trying to show him some of the facts of life. She remembered the woman Arlene had mentioned and shivered. There had to be an answer. She simply would not come anywhere near Dan again. She'd go around the block rather than talk to him. She made up her mind.
Arlene lifted her drink. "Hey, let's watch a late, late movie, or that network TV show called Tomorrow. Doesn't start until 1 a.m. Might be fun. They get real sexy on that I guess. Just ugly broads and dirty old men up that hour of the night." She sighed. "Damn, Annie, I really feel fucked out."
CHAPTER SIX
Thursday was a vacation day for both the editorial employees. Markanna did her laundry, shopping for the week and cleaning the apartment, had time to play a three-set-game of racquette ball on the handball courts at the college with the women's P.E. professor, and that night settled down with a book she'd been trying to get finished. Her phone didn't ring all evening.
Friday she got to work bright and early. She had an even dozen stories to check on by telephone. She wrote up six of them, killed out one and made appointments later that day on two others for in-depth interviews. By eleven-thirty she was starved. She looked over at Willy Jones who had been pounding his typewriter on the city council story he'd covered the night before.
"Hey, Jones, you want to go somewhere and have a free meal on me?" Markanna asked.
He never stopped typing or looked up. "Sure, two more lines and I'm wrapping this one." He finished the story and stood up, grabbed his straw hat and waited in front of her desk.
They ate at Hamburger Heaven, which advertised 36 different styles and tastes of hamburgers, everything from a fishburger, chiliburger, relish burger, to a carrot burger, and an egg burger.
"You've been working too hard, Annie," Willy said. "You should take off a week, go to Florida, or Arizona, or even Alaska."
"You find me some rich playboy with two tickets and I'll really think it over."
"Sure, a free ride. I've been looking for a nice rich, fairly young widow somewhere. Hard to come by."
They ate in silence for a minute. Then he grinned. "Hey, I like that blouse, did I tell you?" She shook her head.
"I like that blouse. I'm a sucker for white blouses with high necks and long sleeves with ruffles all over the front."
She smiled and took a big bite of the burger so she couldn't say anything for a moment. She wasn't sure she could. She had worked side by desk with this man for a year, and that was the first real compliment he had offered. Oh, he said "nice story" once in a while, but not often. He smiled, whistled at her mini one day when she bent over showing the whole panty top. But this was out of the sky.
She watched him. He was older than she by two or more years. Single, and working for a better job. He had a good news sense, a knack with a news feature, good at sports and the general interest column he did weekly was probably the best read part of the whole paper.
She swallowed. "Thank you, kind sir. It's my old fashioned look. Calf length skirt, white ruffles, and I should have my hair pinned up on top of my head so I could look like the 1890s.
"My favorite era. If I could live in any time I wanted to...." He looked at his watch. "Damn. There's a Little League game I promised to cover. We'd better dash."
He wouldn't let her pay the check. Outside she thanked him and gave him a little peck on the cheek. It was only two blocks from the News-Times office.
"You're late. I'll walk back. I need the exercise anyway to wear down that Poland-China Burger I had."
"Well, I am late. Look, I'll make it up to you."
"Don't worry about it." She watched him as he ran to the car. He might be one of the good ones after all. But as she thought back over the lunch and just now, there wasn't one iota of sexy feeling in her. He was a man, yes, but a friend, a good writer, solid, steady. But a lover?
She walked back to the office wondering about the previous night. It was the first time she'd ever been naked in a room with more than one other person. Group sex, was that what they called it. She wasn't sure, but it hadn't seemed like a group, just the three of them, and Bill. Wild! Absolutely wild. She'd stripped out of her clothes like it was a Sundy School picnic. The way he'd got his tongue right up her cunt and then it moved and hit her clit ... damn, did she explode. Even thinking about it now made her breasts tingle. She blinked as if to clear her mind of it. She knew it would be a long time before anything like that happened again.
And it had simply been an accident. The boy coming, Arlene being there, and both she and Arlene just drunk enough to let it happen.
Back at her desk she checked through the afternoon metropolitan paper to find any local events she'd missed or any big news items about locals she hadn't heard of yet. It was part of her job each week. The item seemed to glare out at her. She frowned and read it again.
"Sentencing has been scheduled for a 36-year-old woman here who pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor charge of child molesting involving a twelve-year-old boy. Kahani M. Larson, of 4118 24th Street, had been charged with felony child molesting. She will be sentenced August 15 in Superior Court.
"Mrs. Larson admitted lewd acts with the boy in a change of plea and a misdemeanor charge was agreed upon. Deputy District Attorney Brian Salandi said the incidents took place between September 1973 and January 1974. The action was undertaken after the boy reported the incidents to school officials who talked to police."
Markanna sat there for five minutes staring at the story, reading it over and over again. She couldn't resist it. How terrible! What if something like that were to happen to her? She would be finished in Pinehills, and in the state. She'd have to move a long way off and create some fictional background. Nobody ever really checked out references anyway. What was she thinking about? She wasn't going anywhere. And she wasn't going to get into trouble with the kid any more. She would stay a mile away from him.
If she needed some sex, she'd call up Walter, get him drunk and help him. Easy. Easy once a girl knew what she wanted. But what the hell did she want?
She put the Journal away and checked quickly over the current issue of the News-Times. The society section looked fine. She could have used another picture or two. She would keep better track this week. No big mistakes in the headlines at least. She lived in absolute terror of making a boo-boo on some simple word, or misspelling a name and letting it go all the way through and get into print. Markanna gave a little sigh of relief and looked at her appointment schedule. Yes, she did have one for this afternoon, Mrs. H. F. Price, a lady who operated a community theater for twenty years. She picked up the company Rolle, two rolls of film and her trusty secretary's notebook and went out to her car. It was going to be fun-filled, intensely interesting afternoon talking with this wonderful elderly lady who was so marvelous.
For just a moment Markanna thought she was going to throw up at her own sweetness. She sighed, climbed into her Pinto and drove away.
When she came back it was nearly three. The rest of the afternoon jetted past so fast she was amazed. She wrote the story on Mrs. Price, which turned out very well, then did a batch of correspondence, so she wouldn't get too far behind on it. When she looked up, Willy came in. It was a quarter to six.
Everyone in the shop had gone home except one janitor and somebody else in bindery.
"Hey, you still here?" Willy said.
"No rest for the wicked, keeping my nose to the grindstone, waiting for you to put your shoulder to the wheel, and a stitch in the editorial time saves nine. How's that for a few trite phrases and witty sayings?"
"Real keen."
She laughed. "I haven't heard that phrase since I was twelve."
"It's coming back. Every generation uses it, I think. I'm doing a little story on teenage slang. It's fun."
She shuffled some papers, now purposefully watching him. He was a little short, but well built, good shoulders. She'd like to see him naked, she thought suddenly, and a gentle itch began on one breast. She turned away and finished writing a story about the meeting of the Women's Christian Temperance Union. The WCTU! She thought that went out of business a long time ago.
"Hey, I just asked you if you wanted to go out for dinner?"
She frowned at him. "Sure, I'd like to, but you have that American Legion baseball game to cover tonight, remember? You said at lunch you had to be on the field by 6:30. It's almost six now."
He threw down his pencil and looked at his watch. "Damn! How about a rain check? If we can find a night when neither of us have a meeting to cover."
"Sure."
He ran out the door with camera and pad of paper.
An hour later she stretched and checked the time. She had slaved enough for tonight. She was about to turn off the light in the news room when she saw Dan beside the door.
"Hi," he said.
"Dan, I thought you'd gone home an hour ago." Suddenly she was frightened. She remembered the news story, word for word, about the 36-year-old woman. She wanted to run, to hide. But when she turned toward him, Markanna's smile was as warm and friendly as ever.
"No, I had some numbering to do on some printed forms. I-I thought you'd gone too."
"Did you really, Dan?" She stared at him. The boy fidgeted. He blinked and then shook his head.
"Naw, I knew .you were still here."
"Dan, what happened the other day ... it was just an accident. It's never going to happen again. I can't. You do understand?"
"Oh, sure."
"Dan, you're fourteen, just a child. That's that....You know that our ages are too far apart. When you're older you'll know what I'm talking about. I've got to leave now."
"Right, I'll follow you out and lock the door."
He just stood there watching her. For a moment she wondered if her bra was on right, or if her skirt had hiked up too far, but she knew everything was correct. He just looked. She felt herself start to glow, to get warmer. No! she screamed at herself. She couldn't.
Markanna caught up her purse and hurried for the door. Going past him she stumbled and he reached out and caught her, preventing her from falling. His arms went around her and for a moment her whole weight was pressed against him, then she leaned back. He didn't let go at once, and a moment later she had leaned in against him, pushing her burning tits against his chest.
"Oh, Dan, Dan! I don't know what you do to me." She looked around. "Everyone else gone, you're sure?"
He nodded. "I looked, had to lock the windows and doors, just like Mr. Marshall told me to."
She stared at his face. He was almost exactly the same size as she was. She reached out and kissed his lips softly. He responded. He kissed her, then she put her arms around him and pulled him tightly against her. She washed his lips and teeth with her tongue and, when his teeth parted, she bored into him the way she wished he would with his dick inside her cunt.
She grabbed his hand and ran with him through the plant toward the stairs and the women's lounge. Inside she locked the door and reached for the buttons on her frilly white blouse.
His hands were rubbing his own crotch, building the lump of his cock. She undid her buttons and slid out of the blouse, laying it carefully on a chair. Then she knelt in front of him and opened his belt and his zipper, pulling his pants down. She helped him get them off, along with his shoes, then took off his tight brief shorts. His cock leaped out, turgid, all purple and pink and ready for fucking.
"Oh, nice, Dan. Beautiful." She bent and kissed it twice, watching it jerk. Then she asked him to take off his shirt. She slid out of her long skirt and walked toward him in bra and panties.
"Oh, Judas priest, but you're pretty."
She caught his hand and led him to the couch where they sat down. He didn't move toward her. She smiled and took his hand.
"Don't you understand, Dan, I want you to fuck me. I want you to push your cock into my pussy. Do you want to?"
His eyes were wide in surprise. "Well, sure. Yeah, sure."
"Then get me ready. Pet me, kiss me, make me want you."
His hands came out gently to hold her bra-covered breasts. He kissed her once, then twice before he reached around and tried to undo her bra hook. She laughed and did it for him. She let him take her bra down and off her arms. As he did, he sighed.
"Wow, damn! I just ain't never seen anything like them, biggest tits in the world I bet. I can cum standing up just thinking about them."
"Don't think now, Dan sweetheart. Get your hands on them, set me on fire. Hurry, Dan, please hurry!"
He pushed her back on the bed and played with her orbs, snapping them, pushing them together to form a deep cleavage, then at last his mouth closed around one breast and Markanna began to cry softly. It was so beautiful, to actually suggest and help a male to seduce her. It had been so long since she had known men like that.
He built and built with her, twanging her ripe nipples, sucking on them, chewing them until she yelped in pleasure pain, and through it all her silent, slow tears came. She'd never wept this way before. It was beautiful. He didn't rush it, and waited until she took his hand and moved it down between her legs before he moved his forces down there. He rubbed up both her legs, making the steam rise in her boiler, and when his hands found her soft wetness, he laughed.
"Real pussy?"
"The very best," she said, and they both laughed.
"Hurry, darling," she said. "Hurry, I want you now!"
He knelt between her legs but spent a minute trying to enter her asshole before she moved his cock higher, then he hit the juice of her secretions and slid into her with one easy stroke that brought a gasp of surprise and pleasure from Markanna.
"Hey, I'm inside you," he yelped. "I'm actually fucking a girl."
"You've got a start, now pump it in and out, just like you do when you jack off. Get a little force into it. Bang me good."
He tried, but he was so close to the top of his limit that only five strokes brought him over the top. He groaned and then yelled as the first squirt of fresh hot boycum came through. She felt it warm and wet deeper inside than she had guessed.
As he slowed, he began gasping. She was squeezing his dick with her vaginal muscles, making him yelp in delight. She kept at it and a minute later he began ejaculating again, banging hard at her as the second half of his cum sputtered into her.
She wanted him to rub her off, but somehow it didn't seem right this time. She had felt a big enough thrill for tonight. She let him lay with his dick inside her for five minutes or so, then humped at him until he pulled it out.
"Wow, I really fucked a girl," he said, still not really believing it. "It wasn't so hard at that."
"Getting a girl talked into it, there's the hard part, Dan. And the part you really have to work at. The best part is trying. Some guys are good at it. Now don't think that you'll affect all girls the way you do me. Some girls will snub you completely, as if you weren't alive. Others will like you, but won't even let you touch them, let alone play around or even hold hands. You might have to go with a girl for six months to get to touch her tits."
"Aw, not any more. Buddy of mine said he had his hand under this one girl's blouse and right on her bare tit. She didn't wear no bra."
"Well, Dan, boys brag a lot, you know that. Don't believe it about a girl until you've done the same thing yourself. But be ready to get slapped a few times."
"Oh, I don't think so. I mean I'm going with you. What do I need another girl for? We can make a date for every Friday night, or on Wednesday noon. That was wild in your car."
Markanna rolled off the couch and began putting on clothes. Now what the hell did she do? The kid thought they were going steady, going to fuck regularly. She had a small problem on her hands. But he was a pisser, really made her come on hard for some reason. Maybe it was all boys his age? No. Maybe she was hard up? Not so, not after this week. She'd been getting pussy poked or cunt eaten almost every day. She had to come up with some kind of a defense, something to put the kid down when the time came she needed to. She watched him sitting there, his prick slowly wilting, as he pulled on his shorts.
Damn, but he was a beautiful man-child. He would have great shoulders when he filled out, and his gut would be flat for years, good, tight hips and fine legs. She was starting to get hot again. She turned it off, pulled on her blouse and then the long skirt and her shoes. Today she was glad she hadn't worn panty hose. They were a damned nuisance when it came to a fast fuck.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Markanna usually worked Saturday mornings. She took the afternoons off from long custom and for the practical reason that few of the people she needed to get in touch with by telephone or in business were available. Many were gone for the weekend, or just out. For that reason there was a Saturday deadline for correspondence from the seventeen ladies in the seventeen little burgs around Pinehills.
She usually slaved about half the morning on that copy, much of it hand written. But they had one operator who would set type from handwriting, so she lucked out and didn't have to retype it all.
Still it was a drag. All the little old ladies and the farmers pulling in crops and breaking tractors, and once in a while an accident. She had to look for a lead in the mess of garbage and find something to write a headline about. JONES MOVE TO NEW HOUSE, now that was big news for the Raleigh area. TWIN CALVES FOR JESSIES turned out to be a wire copy story. Twin calves were not common. By noon she was fit to get drunk, but she went to lunch with a girl from bookkeeping, Jerri, who was married to a Navy flyer now on a carrier at sea somewhere.
After lunch the girls split and Markanna decided to go see Walter. She hadn't talked with him more than ten minutes when he was sober. Just that time when she bought a tie for her father for Christmas.
As she walked toward the store she remembered what Arlene had said about being twenty-five and with no prospects and wanting some, and about making too many fucking mistakes. Maybe what Markanna should do was go on a concentrated husband search. Not that she wanted to get married right away. It would be a hell of a boot in the old cunt to be asked once or twice though. So what did she know about Walter? Why not check him out sober, even talk to him about his drinking.
It might be fun, and who knows he might be a great guy.
She grinned as she opened the door of Walter's men's store. Walter stood at the back waiting on a customer. He saw her and waved, then went back to wrapping a package. She browsed around through the shirts and sweaters. Walter had some good merchandise, and some high priced things. It was the only spot in this little town a man could get a suit or clothes with any kind of style at all.
The customer went out and she was the only other person in the store. It was not a big place, about twenty feet wide and forty feet long, but loaded with clothes.
"Annie, how good of you to stop in. It's been a long time," he said.
"Well, not too long, Walter. You mind if I ask you a personal question?"
Walter, surprised at the question, reared back a little as if he were an English Earl suddenly insulted. His face worked from a sudden frown to a wonderment, then a smile.
"For you, Annie, ask away. The complete men's fashion world will be open to answer you."
"Wow, you are ready for me. Walter, I've never heard your last name. Do you have one?"
"Well, of course I do, Annie. McKenzie, Walter, McKenzie, a fine old Irish name."
"Good, I've just never know it. If you'd get thrown in jail more, I'd've known it."
"In a bit of tit for tat, let me ask you one. I call you Annie, lots of folks I know do, but that's not your real name. What is it and how did you get stuck with a wild name like that?"
"Annie is perfectly fine, Walter. As the old saying goes, call me anything you want to, just call me. Actually my name is Markanna. The usual story. Mother was sure I'd be a girl so she had, 'Anna' all picked out. Father knew I was a boy from the night of conception so he had everthing but the announcements printed, 'Mark'."
"Then the thoughtless clods combined them, Markanna," he said and shook his head. "I really hate to be stuffy about it, Annie, but that shows a tremendous lack of class."
"We didn't have your money, Walt." She grinned with a sudden idea. "Walt, I want to look at some of your best gift Jockey shorts, about a size 32 I'd guess."
He lifted both brows in surprise, unable to hide his embarrassment. He simply looked at her.
"You do carry Jockey shorts don't you?"
"Well, yes, Annie. But I didn't know ... I mean I wasn't aware that you had any...." He sighed and shook his head. "Right this way, Miss."
He came down so hard on the last word that she wanted to giggle. She followed him along one counter to another, then to a rack.
"Here we are, you said a size 32,1 believe?" He took a package of three shorts from the rack. They were all carefully packaged in plastic wrap.
She took the package from him and stared at the material.
"Oh, do these have the double overlap protection, Walt?"
"Oh, yes, I assure you they do. Very high quality."
"Show me, Walter. I want to be sure I get the right kind."
"Show you?"
"Yes, take one out of the package and show me."
She almost broke up again. She had never seen him so flustered. He was embarrassed almost to the point of flight. He tore open the package and unfolded one of the shorts from the group. He put his hand on the section in front with the flap and the overlapping area.
Markanna could hold it back no longer. She burst out laughing, moved forward and hugged him, Jockey shorts and all.
"Oh, Walter, you wouldn't believe how shocked and embarrassed you were when I asked you to show me the double something or other. Terrific, it was fantastic. I was just teasing you, you know that now, don't you?"
She held him tightly and looked up. He had on a sports coat and tie, but she could feel him trembling.
"Please, Annie, don't hug me here. What if someone comes in?"
"Oh, hell, just tell them we're shacking up together."
He unhooked her hands from behind him and leaned away from her. "Markanna, just because we've been friends, I don't...."
"Friends? You fucked me twice, don't you remember?"
Walter turned deep purple, his eyes frantically searching the shop for any customers, then he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the rear where he could see the whole area better.
"Annie, for God's sakes, keep your voice down. I told you I was sorry about that. Both times I was smashed, and I phoned the next day and apologized."
"Walter, you do know you have a drinking problem."
"Well, I get bombed once in a while."
"Walt, two beers blow your mind. Do you remember calling me a couple of nights ago?"
"I called you, at night?" He shook his head. "Now that I would remember."
"Nope, you called and said you were in bed jacking off into a towel and you wanted to hear my voice."
"I did not!"
"Scouts honor, Walt. In fact every time you get drunk you try to fuck me, do you know that? No matter where we are, or who I'm with, you come on like a stud horse on a breeding farm. I just wondered what you were really like, stone dry sober."
"Annie, I'm the same today, and yesterday. I'm me, Walter. Maybe a little formal sometimes ... "
"Formal? Walt, I think the real you comes out when you're drunk. You spend money like wild, you try to seduce every woman within arms reach-"
"I do not!"
"The shit you don't. How do you suppose you got my panties off twice? And you swear like a logger. You winced just now when I said 'shit', but you use the word all the time when you're soused."
"So you're telling me I'm an alcoholic?"
"No, Walter, I'm not telling you anything. I just want to find out something. Put up your out-to-lunch sign."
"Why?"
"I want to take you to lunch." She ran to the front of the store, snapped the night lock and turned the open sign around to closed. In back she kept going through the drape that sectioned the front room from the back. She knew there were fitting rooms back there and a couch.
He followed her. She sat down on the couch.
"Sit beside me, Walter, please."
He shrugged and sat down.
"Now, I want you to let me do my little experiment. I promise it won't hurt you a bit. I think you'll like it."
"What is it?"
"You'll find out, now just relax." Markanna knew exactly what she wanted to do, it just took a minute to work up her courage. She wore a pale yellow blouse that buttoned in the back and had big orange flowers on the front. It was a tight weave and she left her bra at home, it was too hot. It fit rather snugly and made her tits stand out nicely. Now she caught his hand.
"Remember, Walt this is just an experiment, but once we start, I'm the one who says we stop, right?"
"Really, Annie...."
"All right, Walter?"
He nodded okay.
"Give me your hand, Walter." He did. Markanna took it, pulled out the tail of her blouse and slid his hand up under her blouse until it covered one of her breasts. He gasped. Walt started to say something but she leaned forward and covered his mouth with her open one. She worked and worked and at last got her tongue into his mouth. When he came away a minute later, his hand was still over her tit.
"Annie, what in the world?"
"You can't figure it out?"
"Frankly, no."
She pushed him, tipping him over sideways onto the couch, dropping on top of him, her breasts crushed against his chest, her mouth planted on his and one hand coming up between his spread legs to his crotch and rubbing.
He actually fought her a few seconds, then relaxed and growled until she let up on his mouth.
"So that's it."
"What's it?"
"You're trying to seduce me when I'm sober to get even."
"Fuck, no, not to get even, to see if you're really like you are when you're drunk or sober. I kind of like the drunk, but you can't stay drunk all the time, so I better see how you are fucking sober."
"But I'm stronger than you are, Markanna."
"Just try overpowering me, or pushing me off you and I'll rip my blouse off my tits and run screaming out your front door and accuse you of attempted rape. You'd be done in this town forever."
She played at his crotch trying to find his prick. She couldn't find one. She needed two hands for his damned zipper. As he thought it over she leaned up and sat on his thighs while she pulled the blouse off over her head. Her boobies looked great swinging down that way. She went back over him and lowered one tit nipple right into his mouth.
"Suck a tit sober, you drunk masher," she said.
Walter turned his head away. She sighed and sat up again. He stared at her tits, but remained passive. Markanna opened his zipper and pulled down his pants, then his shorts. His prick lay there like a small worm, soft as a noodle. She lifted it up and let it fall.
"You silly bastard. Now repeat after me. I like to fuck."
He looked at her, then away.
She gragged a handful of his balls and began to squeeze.
"Say it or lose the family jewels right now, buster." She squeezed harder.
"Kreist! All right ... I like to fuck."
"That was really with feeling. Would it do you any good if I stripped and pushed my pussy right in your face?"
He shook his head.
"You got a bottle back here?"
He pointed to a desk on the far side. As she walked to get it she swished her hips, made her tits bounce on the way back, but it did no good. He took the bottle and tipped it, gurgled down a couple of ounces, and sat up. He smacked his lips, blinked, and took another slug of the booze.
She could see it go to work on him. His stiff formal grin began to fade. A slight leer came into his eye. Then she looked at his crotch and saw the worm turn and grow and build into a respectable sized fucking cock.
She moved closer and rubbed her tit against his shoulder, then brought it around by his mouth. He reached out and touched her, then pulled it into his mouth.
"Oh, shit!" he said and grabbed her, throwing her on the couch and rolling on top of her.
It didn't take Walt long after that. He stripped her, kissing off every piece of clothing left on her, then planted a wet kiss on her cunt and fucked her hard and straight and fast. When he rolled off he took another shot from the bottle and she dressed. She hid the bottle and left him naked in the room to sleep it off.
She left the shop by the back door, walking to where she parked the car, then driving home slowly. That was weird. She had never seen a man so uninterested in sex, in her good titties, or in snatch. She practically raped him and saw it wasn't going to do a bit of good.
Then with maybe four ounces of alcohol in his system he turned into the fucking man, Walt himself. The man had troubles, that was for damned sure, and none that a week-end psychiatrist could help. She shivered slightly and decided not to play fun games with Walt any more. The man could be dangerous if he was that far out of the norm.
A wave of conscience swept over her. Sure Walt was a strange pervert of some kind just because he needed to be soused to fuck, so what did that make her? She chased down teenage boys, fourteen-year-olds and screwed them, "committed lewd acts with them," as the newspaper said. What the fucking shit bird did that make her? She wanted to cry right then. But she couldn't. Maybe crying wasn't the right way. Mad, furious, outraged at her own stupidity. She knew the words, she used words every day. She lived by the words, and she should be able to make them sit up and say what she felt for herself right then. Only the words blurred, changed and shifted because they were coming out about her, about Markanna Jean Louise. So they couldn't be true, they simply couldn't.
Walter had more money than he knew what to do with. Cash. The town's poker game was his big fling. He was said to lose up to a thousand dollars there some weeks and not even wince.
"Worth it for a few hours of hot and fast poker playing," he would say. She wondered if he were always drunk or at least drinking when he played poker. Suddenly she knew he must be. He needed the whiskey to trigger the release of all the inhibitions that some rich-bitch of a mother had drilled into him from the crib.
She sighed thinking about it, thinking about his problem. That was easier than thinking about hers. What did she mean, her problem? Just because she had diddled with a couple of little boys did not mean that she was automatically a child molester. Molester? The boys had been wild to find out something about sex. It was something their fathers should have taught them, or at least their mothers should have said something about. Sex education today was left up to the schools. Hell, it should be taken out of the schools and put back behind the garage where it fucking well belonged! She smiled at the sentence. A man had said she could quote it from him during one of the semi-annual sexed fights they had in town.
"Sex Ed?" she asked.
"No thanks, just looking." Now where did she come up with that crazy line? It didn't make sense.
Well in a way, if you were word oriented.
She couldn't figure out where she was driving. She had been past her own house twice, and each time had not turned in. Once she drove past Tyler's place, but his battered logger's pickup was not there, so he was off on a drunk or a fuck somewhere. She swung around again and this time ended at the high school baseball diamond. The little league baseball game was not quite over. She parked and watched the last two outs. The locals won.
She saw Willy Jones walking off the field toward the parking lot and let the Pinto bleep out twice on its horn. Willy saw the car and trotted over.
"Ah, que paso?" he asked.
"Not a damned thing. Got time for a beer?"
Willy sighed, looked at his clipboard with his notes and the score sheet, and nodded. "Damn right. I've got four days until my deadline."
They went to a little bar at the edge of town where the younger crowd hung out. Over a beer, he grinned at her.
"Now give, girl. I know you didn't just happen to run into me at the old ball park. What's bothering you?"
"You have a meeting tonight?"
"No, do you?"
She shook her head. "Willy, maybe tonight's the night."
CHAPTER EIGHT
"All right!" he said, giving it the twang the sports freaks used for a while after a good play or an outstanding performance. He looked at his watch.
"How about dinner and a movie? Unless you want to drive into the big city and hit the night spots."
"Let's stay here, that sounds fine."
"About six?"
"All right!" she said with his inflection. He laughed. "I'm going to wear a tie and a sports coat."
"Wow, with nothing else on, you'll be the hit of the show."
"Nut! I'll see you about six. Maybe I can get this one written and out of my hair. I can't give it over ten inches, and every mama on the bench is gonna want to see her kid's name in the story. See you at six."
He turned and trotted back to his Datsun 240Z. It was a great little car, she decided.
At home she had a long tub bath. And every time she used the new scented soap she told herself she absolutely wasn't going to get fucked tonight. She just might as well get set for that. Arlene told her that Willy didn't fuck the first date. Hell, first date? He'd taken her to lunch a dozen times, even paid for it all a couple of times. And they covered the elections three times now, staying up all fucking night for the late returns and then filling in the big chart. But this was the first real kissing date.
That's what it would be, she was sure, a kissing date. Well, damn it, that's what she said she wanted. Was she so hooked on this modern sex world that she would be mad if he didn't try to screw her the first time out? No. Hell no. So shut up and finish with the damn bath!
She spent an hour on her fingernails, giving them a coat of nearly natural color polish and some hardener. Her make-up had to be just right, enough but not too much, and the eyebrows and everything.
What to wear? Easy or hard? At last she decided on a medium length skirt and a low-cut white blouse and a light white evening sweater. It would be dressy enough without going overboard. She listened to the last of the five o'clock news and had the Journal half digested when the bell rang. He was there a minute before six.
"Fantastic," he said when she opened the door.
"Thank you, kind sir," she said.
He handed her a half-liter bottle of wine. "After all, this is a real occasion. It isn't every day I find time to have a date with a glamorous author."
"You do read my correspondence."
They both laughed and went down to his car.
The dinner was delightful, and expensive, and the movie was fair. They drove into Vale, a dozen miles down the road when the local showhouse didn't have a good film. After the movie, he drove back to Pinehills.
"You want a drink or a hamburger with the kids?"
"Let's go back to my place and see if that wine's as good as the bottle looks."
So they did.
He opened the wine bottle for her and poured into two wine glasses. He tried to sniff it the way the pros did in movies, but managed only to get his nose wet. It was good wine. They sat on the sofa and talked. They went into subjects and areas they never had time to get to at the office. She found out he was a hi-fidelity nut with stereo equipment worth over a thousand dollars. She told him about her hobby of oil painting, and that she wasn't very good. Suddenly she realized she had forgotten all about sex, entirely. She had no desires in that direction, she was too interested in this man as a person, as another human being, and one she found she was liking more and more.
"I'm breaking one of my rules," he said suddenly.
"What rule?"
"Never to date people I have to work with all day. It can be bad. Say we really hit it off and like each other and get maybe even a little serious and then WHAM! Splitsville. Yet we still have to live in the same little room for fifty hours a week or so. It's murder. Happened to me once. That's why I quit my last job."
"So that's why it's taken you almost a year to ask me out." No, that wasn't right. "Actually I guess I asked you out. I'm glad I did."
"So am I."
He reached over and kissed her lips lightly. She pulled back. He followed her and kissed her seriously, hard and firm, with her body pulled hard against his. When he released her, he stood up at once.
"That's my parting argument. Past time I was getting out of here."
She smiled, pleased. "You don't trust me."
"You? I'd trust you with my baby brother, he's nineteen. Me, I don't trust me with you. That kissing you is habit forming, did you know that? And I never realized that blouse of yours was filled out so beautifully." He bent once more and kissed the tip of her nose. "Tomorrow ... let's see. How about swimming out at Johnson's Lake?"
"I really don't swim."
"Just stand around in a bikini and knock everybody dead."
"How about a drive instead?"
"You've got it."
"I'll bring a picnic lunch and the rest of our wine."
They set the time for eleven, so they both could sleep in, and he went out the front door, refusing to let her get up. She sat there for a long time after he left, until she began to tingle. That was some man that just walked out the door, one hell of a man! She felt his lips on hers and her breasts crushed against his chest. Now that was something fine, sexy but fine, fun but a little ... a little restrained? Hell, it was adult.
She capped the wine, checked to be sure it was not supposed to be refrigerated, and got into bed.
Markanna lay there for a long time, staring at the dark ceiling, going back over the whole evening. It had been almost two o'clock when he left. By three she dropped off to sleep and the dream came and it was a very satisfying dream, but when she woke the next morning, she couldn't explain what had happened.
She came awake suddenly as the doorbell rang. Oh, no, she hadn't overslept! She looked at the bedside radio clock and saw it was only 9:15. So who was at the door? She grabbed a robe and shuffled to the door barefooted. The bell rang again, and once more before she got there. The door had no peephole.
"Who's there?" she called.
"Dan."
"Go away."
"I got to see you a minute."
"Why?"
"I'll tell you inside. Please."
She sighed and opened the door. He scooted in and let her close it. She wasn't going to move, or let him inside any farther. She wondered how he knew where she lived.
"Hey, my folks been mad as hell about my staying at work so long."
"Tell them it won't happen again. It won't."
"Why?"
"Because you're fourteen, kid. Now get out of here and let me get some sleep."
"Folks are gone today."
"Dandy, go home and tell yourself dirty jokes. Dan, I'm so tired I'm groggy, now leave. Okay?"
"No." As he said it he unzipped his pants and pulled out his stiff cock. His hand darted forward, through the front of her robe, and closed on one of her breasts.
"Dan, I said no and I meant it. Now get yourself out of here. Wave your prick down the hall out there."
"Come on, Annie. You know you like my cock.
Give him another chance in your sweet old cunt." He moved up fast, got both hands on her tits and pushed her against the wall. His knee shoved the robe aside so his prick drove between her legs with just the sheer nighty between prick and cunt.
"Yeah, sweetheart, now that feels good," he said. He found her lips and jabbed his tongue inside her mouth.
He rubbed and punched and kissed and a minute later he knew he had her. She sighed and put her arms around him.
"Dan, I can't. I got a date at eleven. He's coming here. I can't let you stay."
But she had pulled the flimsy cloth away herself, and let his cock slide next to her pussy.
"No, Dan. No. I don't have time, I have to get ready for the picnic. You've got to leave right this instant."
"Sure, sure, just sit down here and we'll talk about it."
The next minute she was on her back, with Dan on top of her, sucking her tits, kissing her and his knee pushing hard against her juiced-up twat. She couldn't be there! She had to get ready!
Just as he slid his prick into her cunt, she worked it out for herself. She would give him a fast bang, and get him out the door and still have plenty of time to be ready when Willy came by. Yes, that was it.
With her decision made, she got into the spirit of the fuck, and bucked him up high on each thrust and found that such a movement allowed his slim prick to grate past her clit and set her absolutely molten with flames.
She spilled over before he climaxed this time. The thrill was something she could never describe. It was as if she were sliding along on a lava flow, watching everything before it hiss into steam or vaporize into ashes as the red hot molten rock spewed down the hill. Trees, houses, whole villages fell in front of the flames as they spread and rolled and charged forward. Then it ended in the sea and she flew off into another world where it was rose petal sweet and the air filled with the fragrance of a thousand flocks and jasmine.
She was vaguely aware that someone was undressing her, taking off the heavy robe and the flimsy nighty. She stirred, half coming out of her afterglow, and saw the boy with her, undressed now too, and both of them on the hall rug, resting. But all she could see of him were his feet and legs, then his crotch, and she realized somehow one of them had got turned around.
But before she could tell him, his cock came near her face and she caught it, pulling the half soft one into her mouth, tasting the salt of his cum and her juices, and at the same time felt him spread her legs and kiss the soft inner thighs so high up his head wedged in tightly.
Oh yes, another blow-job! He had to eat her pussy, like somebody did the other night. She even forgot who it was. But it was great, so wonderful, so marvelous. She spread her legs wider, lifting her knees, feeling him moving down, down, and all the time the worm in her mouth got larger and larger until it was full grown and his hips danced back and forth.
She slid with him, not trying to suck him off, just letting him take his time.
Things went fuzzy then, and she wasn't sure what happened next. She roused up and looked at the clock and saw with a feeling of dread that it said 10:30. She pushed the head away and scrambled for her feet. She made it only to her knees, then Dan was there on his knees, his hands around her throat.
"Annie, listen to me. You're not going on no picnic today, hear? You can't get rid of me today.
Folks are gone and I got all day to fuck and play with your tits. You call whoever was gonna pick you up and say no way. You can't make it. Headache, something."
"That's not fair, Dan. I've been good to you. Please let me go today, it's very important."
"No. Today's my day. You try anything else and I'll go to the cops and tell them you've been molesting me, might even say you raped me."
She sat very still. Was she drunk? Had the boy threatened her? He had. She wasn't drunk. The phone. Twenty-five till eleven. It would be like him to be early. She scrambled on all fours for the living room phone, her tits bouncing and jolting like crazy. She dialed his number and waited. It rang four times.
"Yeah?"
"Hi, it's me, Markanna. I got bad news. I just can't make it today. Cramps and back pains, the damned curse, you know."
"Hell, I was all set. Well, can't fight mother nature. Take it easy, and we'll get it next week."
"Promise?"
"Yeah, I promise. Now if you can't trust your friendly news editor, who can you trust?"
"I'll keep the wine safe."
"Great, take it easy today, relax. I'll see you tomorrow."
"'Bye."
As she talked on the phone, the kid was massaging her breasts. The old double rub, one going one way and the other the other way.
She spun around on the floor and spread her legs wide.
"Eat my pussy, kid!" she said. "What?"
"Go down on me, damn it. Get your tongue up my cunt."
"Aw, hell."
"Don't aw hell me, kid. Do it!"
She caught his leg and pulled him, then pushed his head between her legs and pushed him down. He squawked a little but, as he got with it, he relaxed. She felt his tongue go up her cunt and she drenched him with a spray from somewhere. He yelped and she climaxed. The roaring, surging kind of cum that left her suddenly helpless, moaning and rolling on the floor. She wasn't sure if she screamed or not, but he sat there watching her, a look of surprise and awe on his face.
"I do all that?" he asked.
"You got a good pussy-poking tongue, Dan."
She grinned and tried to stand up. First she checked the blinds, they were down from last night.
"Now, kid, what do you want for your second breakfast?"
She fed him hot cakes and sausages, then went into the bathroom. He watched her piss and laughed his head off, then she pushed him into the shower. It was a good sized shower stall, plenty enough room for two. She adjusted the water and then they took turns soaping each other. He went wild with the soap on her tits and she laughed.
"You can't rub them off, Dan," she said. She had his cock soaped good and his balls. His dick was hard again. She soaped her pussy then pulled him forward.
"Want to try one standing up?" she asked. He nodded. She spread her legs and pushed him down with his knees between hers then told him to come up slow. With her aiming, she got his dick edged into her cunt, but he couldn't move any higher. She had him put his legs outside her legs and he shoved hard, bending in, pushing upward as she leaned back against the wall.
"Damn, it went in!" he yelped. The spray from the shower hit him in the face and he gurgled, then tried to fuck up and down. He couldn't do it. They soaped each other again, and he finger fucked her a dozen strokes before she got her finger into his bung hole.
"That feel good?" she asked.
"Wild, yeah."
"Let me play a little, okay?"
He grinned. "I got all day."
She worked her finger up higher, then turned it inside of him and probed gently until she found his little trigger, the gland. She massaged it four or five times and he hollered.
"Hey, I'm gonna cum!"
And he did, spurting four times. He frowned and looked at her as she pulled her fingers from his asshole.
"You do that, make me cum that way?"
She said she did, but didn't explain it to him. They soaped again, rinsed off and got out.
He wanted to dry her. He was too rough and she told him to pat her dry with the towel and to be careful around her breasts, he could rub skin off easily with a dry towel. When she was dry and he sucked her tits a couple of times, she toweled him off and they moved onto the bed.
"Want me to chew on your balls?" she asked him.
"Sure, why not?"
She tried, pulling his balls into her mouth, munching a little, but it gave him no thrill so she kissed his prick and moved back up to his face. She rolled over on top of him and stared down. She was giving him the hundred-dollar all night fuck for free. Maybe she should have been a hooker, at least she could have made lots of money. She sure loved the work.
She rolled off him and sighed.
"Hey, how about a little nap. Whoever wakes up first can play around with the other one while he sleeps."
Dan agreed and they both closed their eyes. She was sleeping in a few moments, and Dan sat up, trying to figure out what to do first. He spotted a tall candle on the nightstand and picked it up. His grin broadened.
CHAPTER NINE
He didn't kiss her, but he did everything else, playing with her good tits, stroking them, sucking on them, then going below and rubbing her whole pubic hair area and at last warming up her cuntlips. When he saw that she was juicing up, he checked to be sure she was still sleeping, and she was.
She groaned and moaned once in a while, but she was sleeping. He took the candle and spit on it to make it as slippery as he could, then began pushing it into her pussy. She responded with little hip thrusts and he watched, amazed at how far she took it. The candle was well over twelve inches long and by the time he began to feel real resistance from her pussy, he had pushed over nine inches of it into her cunt.
She groaned then and stirred, then blinked her eyes open. A puzzled frown showed on her face for a moment, then she looked down.
"Oh, I thought you were inside me ... Dan, for heaven's sakes, what on earth...?" She scowled. "You little rat. That's not nice. You could hurt me that way." But she looked interested.
"Say, just how much could I take?"
"About nine inches."
"Is that all? Work it slowly, maybe I can squeeze in a little more." And she did, a full ten inches, then she had him draw it out.
"God, what a feeling when it comes out. It's like you're losing some part of you." She sat up. "Little fucker, I'm about fucked out, how about you?"
"Nope."
"Then jack off for me."
"Right here, now?"
"Why not. Show me you can cum again."
"Can I play with your tits?"
"Sure."
So she sat there on the bed and watched him jack off. He never quite made it. He even sucked on her tits, but he couldn't get it up again. At last he lay down and rested.
Markanna put on her clothes, clean panties and bra, then a minidress and panty hose.
"Looks like you're getting ready to go out."
"No, just dressing so you could watch me. Ever seen a big-titted broad dress before?"
"No. That was fun. What're we going to do now?"
"You're getting out of here. I've got some more cleaning to do, and my washing from yesterday, and a whole bunch of floors to scrub and dishes to do. Want to help?"
He ran to the front hall for his clothes. When he put them on he came back, walked up to her and kissed her mouth and squeezed both tits.
"Dan, promise me you'll never come here again. It's too dangerous. I've got nosy neighbors. Believe me. I don't know if we'll be able to fuck any more or not. If we can I'll let you know, but not here. Now don't bug me or I'll get mad at you and cut off your prick."
He jumped back.
"Now give me one more kiss and then get lost until work time tomorrow." He scampered.
As soon as he left she locked the front door and looked at the clock. It was after two. She couldn't believe it. They had been fucking around for almost five hours. She was tired. Maybe if Arlene were home they could take a drive, or have a Coke or something. She dialed the number but there was no answer.
She sat down in the living room chair and relaxed. Why had she let herself get trapped again? She was through with that boy. He was going to be difficult, too demanding, and he thought he had a threat on her. She simply should never have opened' the door this morning. She certainly never would again. She had been half asleep. Markanna wished she had a drink, but it was too far to the kitchen to find the bottle.
She could always call Walter and invite him over with his fifth. No thanks. She'd seen enough of both sides of Walter. He was going to go bananas one of these days and kill somebody. Just her prediction.
Damn, she really fouled up with Willy. He would buy the old time of the month bit, she was sure. She would be a little grouchy tomorrow, and ask him for an aspirin, that should tie up the lie neatly. She thought about him, about the night before. It might just work. He was pretty cool. He let her know she excited the hell out of him, that he was afraid she had got him so worked up he was going to go home right away. That made a girl feel good. A real compliment. And no wrestling around.
A half hour later she got up and began cleaning up the place. Vacuum, dust, window, dishes, kitchen. She tore around for three hours cleaning like it was visiting day at the zoo.
Then she turned on the water in the shower-tub enclosure and filled it half full before jumping in for a long tub soak. She really needed that. That night she went to bed early, to get ready for the next day. She and a teenage girl were going to do a hitchhiking experiment. It was for a story on girls hitchhiking, and she felt if she really did she would have a better idea about how to write about it.
The next morning she put her hair up in twin little braids on each side of her head, then changed her mind and fastened them with rubber bands for twin side pony tails. She put on blue jeans and a tight sweater with no bra underneath. She made sure it was plenty snug so her nipples would show plainly. Then she shrugged into a light jacket to wear to work.
Willy grinned at her outfit when she came in the office.
"Your hitchhiking disguise?"
"Right. Think I'll get picked up?"
He frowned. "Yeah, easy. Too easy. You got some protection?
She showed him the switchblade.
"No good. Oh, it might scare somebody, scare a woman. But a man would risk taking it away from you. Besides, do you know how to use it?"
"Sure." She pushed the button on the handle and the five-inch knife blade snapped into place and locked.
"That the way you're going to hold it? Make like I'm about to rape you, how do you stop me with the blade?"
She gripped it around the handle with her whole hand so the blade projected at a right angle to her hand.
Willy shook his head. "Here, let me have it. Hold it like this, like you hold your knife when you cut meat at the table. No kidding, just like this." He showed her, his first finger extending partway out along the top of the blade.
"In that position you can slash either way with it, stab straight forward or slash up or down. It's the way a real knife fighter holds a weapon and it makes it extremely difficult for anybody else to take it away from you."
She took the knife back and tried it. "Hey, yes, I can see the difference. Thanks."
He reached in the bottom drawer and took out a small box. Inside was a small handgun, a derringer type only four inches long. It was unloaded. He handed it to her.
"Keep this in your purse in case you get into some bad trouble. Just pull it out, and nine out of ten guys'll split."
"But I don't have a license."
"Neither do I. Tell them it's for target practice."
She pushed it into the bottom of her shoulder bag. "I won't be needing it, I'm sure." She smiled at him. "But thanks. Willy, I'm very sorry about yesterday."
"Forget it. We'll have lots of other picnics. Now take care of yourself. If you get in any trouble, call me. I'll be here most of the morning."
He waved as she went out. She met Juanita on the corner where they had arranged a meeting. The girl was eighteen and had hitchhiked from coast to coast with another girl.
"Juanita, I'm glad you're going with me, I'm kinda scared."
"Forget it, ninety-nine out of a hundred rides are beautiful people. The other one, you get out of the car as soon as you can. Rules: Never thumb a station wagon loaded with kids. No use. Never thumb a car that's erratic, probably a drunk. Never thumb a cop car, it bugs some of them. Never thumb middle age men alone. They either want to screw you or will lecture you for miles. Always try for couples, or women alone. I've never had a bad ride with a female. So help me. And every chance you get, thumb a hippy wagon. Them cats pick up everybody they can load in."
They parked the car in a filling station where Markanna usually shopped. She told Roy the gas jockey what she was doing. "If I don't come back in a couple of weeks, tell the cops to put out an A.P.B. on me and drag the lake." He laughed at her and waved.
"You're not scared?" Juanita asked.
"Who's not?"
They had planned to hitchhike to Vale, the town a dozen miles down the road, and then back. If they made it too fast, they'd do it again. She wanted to get six or seven different rides.
They walked just past the stop sign leading onto the highway and stopped. Both of them stood by the roadway, on the curb, which made it legal, and pushed out their thumbs.
The first four cars whizzed by. Juanita stood in front and when she thumbed, so did Markanna. The twentieth car stopped. It was a two-year-old Ford with a man and a woman in it. Both were in their twenties.
Juanita ran up to the car and opened the back door.
"Hi, we're going to Vale," she said.
"Help you out a ways," the woman said.
They got in. The couple in the front seat went on with an argument they had begun earlier. They didn't say a word to the girls. When they turned off the highway two miles out of town, the car stopped at the edge of the road.
"End of the line," the man said.
They got out. "Hey, thanks a lot for the ride," Juanita said.
"Yeah, forget it," the man said to Juanita, but he was staring at Markanna's sweater. He winked at her and grinned. So what? she thought. This tit-trap sweater would get a wink from half the men who saw her.
The next time Markanna stood in front and the second car stopped. He was a man in his late thirties. There was a whiskey bottle on the front seat. Markana realized she shouldn't have thumbed that one.
Juanita went to the car door. The window was down.
"Hey, man, what time is it?" she asked. He told her. "Thanks for stopping, but we got to split." She turned and walked with Markanna half a block down the side street. The car sat there for a while. Finally it left.
"Just got to play it cool," Markanna said. "And you sure do."
"Hell, you hitchhike for two or three reasons. One is to try to get picked up and fucked. That's the outfit you've got on. Your tits sure do show through, and that's trouble every time. Pull that sweater out in front so they don't show so much. Yeah, that's right."
Three rides later they were in Vale. One ride had been a private trucker in his forties. The third one, a woman school teacher from Vermont on vacation, and the last one a high school senior looking for a job. He wanted to proposition them, but he didn't quite have the nerve.
They had a Coke and French fries at a drive-in, then headed back. Markanna had been interviewing Juanita most of the time they waited for rides. It was going to be a good story.
Their first ride out of Vale was a traveling salesman. He was in his late thirties and looked clean and open. He talked about the weather and the gas shortage, then he speeded up and took a fast corner off the road and went down a country lane.
"Just sit tight and nobody gets hurt." He slowed to about forty. "Anyone wants to jump out, now's the time." He pulled a knife from his pocket and snicked open the blade. As he slowed at the side of the road, he made sure both girls saw it and pressed it against Markanna's stomach. He stopped and pointed to Juanita who sat on the outside of the front seat.
"You, get out and close the door easy, or your friend here gets knifed in the belly. Move!" Juanita got out of the car. Markanna watched her go, a frown over her face.
As soon as the other girl was free of the car, he pushed down on the accelerator and the car spun wheels as it roared down the country road.
"Now, big tits, we're gonna see just what you're hiding under that sweater. Take it off, right now!"
"No."
"You like to see blood?" He moved the kife blade against her sweater, the point pricking her skin.
"Ouch! Hey, stop that."
"Strip off that sweater!"
He meant it, she could see that. She groped for some way out, some help. Then she thought of the small gun.
"I'll need to move over a little to lift up my arms. That okay? I don't like knives."
He grinned. By damn, he had her. He'd get her sweater off and if those tits were real, he'd park up the road and chew her to pieces, get her hot and throw his cock into her old cunt! He nodded. "Okay, move over a little."
She did, then farther. As she reached for her sweater on her right side, she tried to get at her purse, but it was too far away.
"Pull it up, bitch, now!"
She had to, she eased the sweater up to show her belly.
"Higher, damn it, up off your tits!"
She did, then let him look at her breasts. As he did he saw nothing else. Her hand stole to her side. He didn't notice. Then it was in her purse, working toward the bottom. She came up with the gun. She lunged sideways away from him and turned, the little gun pointed at him. The car had stopped by then at the side of the road and he was turning to fondle her tits. "What...?"
"Stay right there, or you're dead, mister. I can use this pretty damn well."
He was shocked. He flinched and drew back.
"Open the car door and get out," she said, a sudden steel tone coming into her voice. He pulled the handle and stepped out.
"Close the door easy, then walk backward three steps and put your hands on top of your head."
"Look, lady, don't shoot. Sorry I made you pull up your sweater, but you know the score. You were asking for it in that tight outfit."
As he moved away she pushed over into the driver's seat. The keys were still in the ignition.
"I should kill you, you bastard!"
"No, lady, don't shoot, just don't shoot!"
"Lay down on the ground, hands spread over your head."
He did. Quickly she started the car and, before he could scramble to his feet, she drove up the road. She found a driveway and turned around. By the time she came back to where he had been, he was gone. She saw him down the road, heading for the highway. She passed him fast, giving him no chance to stop her. A half mile farther on, she found Juanita with her thumb out.
"Hey, hey, Markanna. Never thought I'd see you again. I told you that tight sweater was trouble. How the hell did you get away from him?"
Then she saw the derringer which Markanna still held in her right hand.
"Sonofabitch," Juanita said. She looked closer at the other girl. "You some kind of a cop?"
"No, just a dumb girl reporter with big tits and a little brain. Wasn't there a bridge about a block from the highway?"
They found it. Markanna told the other girl to get out, and close the door. They wiped off fingerprints as best they could from the door handles. Then when no one was coming, Markanna put the car into gear, let off the brake and let it drive itself over the twenty-foot bank into the small stream.
It hit with a smashing crash and rolled over on its top.
"That'll teach that bastard to fool around with innocent girls," Markanna said. She put on her outside sweater after stretching it so it was very baggy, then buttoned it up and looked almost bankrupt-flat busted.
They walked back to the highway and the fourth car stopped. It took them all the way back to Pinehills and let them off at the filling station. Markanna had to remember that it was a middle-aged woman who picked them up, and she lectured them all the way on the dangers of hitchhiking. Markanna didn't hear a word of it. Juanita made the proper responses and made sure they got out at the right place.
Markanna got into her Pinto and started crying. It was stupid. It was dumb to cry now. It was all over. Juanity sat beside her and comforted her, told her it was all right, they were out of it, everything was fine.
"I've hiked over four thousand miles and I've never been propositioned very well," Juanita said. "Guess I was wearing the wrong set of tits."
CHAPTER TEN
They had lunch, preceded by martinis, and by the time the food was gone, Markanna felt like she could function properly again.
"Juanita, would you believe that I've learned today never to over-dress for a part?"
They both laughed. On an impulse Markanna bought a five-inch diameter all-day sucker and took it back to the office for Willy. She told Juanita good-bye and promised to quote her as a confirmed hitchhiker but not to identify her. She split.
Markanna sat in her car in the parking lot outside the News-Times office. Just what did she say to Willy? "Oh, no, nothing happened. Told you I wouldn't need your silly old gun." No, that wouldn't work. How about: "Well, see I'm safe and sound, here's your toy." No way she could say that. At last she simply walked in the newsroom with no prepared statement.
As she came into the room she burst out crying and ran to Willy. He stood and caught her and she sobbed on his shoulder. She tried to stop it, but for a minute she couldn't. When she stopped the tears, he pushed her back and dried her eyes.
"A little trouble?"
She nodded.
He got her seated in the chair beside his desk and she told him the whole thing, even about wearing the tight sweater so her nipples would show. When she played it all out for him, he caught her hand.
"Annie, you sure hit that one out of a hundred. Now I'm more glad than ever that you took the gun along. You've got a lot of guts doing that, against a blade. The important thing is you're safe, and that's wonderful."
She couldn't stop. She sighed. "Willy, I won't kid you. I'm not a virgin, but rape, well it's still about the absolute worst thing that can happen to a woman. It balances out, I guess. Sex, when you really want it, has got to be the world's most wonderful feeling. But when you don't want it, that's got to be the absolute world's worst feeling."
She sighed and tried to stop the little gasping sounds that followed the crying.
Willy leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Now what you have to decide is how much of it you're going to write in the story."
"Oh, I never thought about that." She looked up. "You think I still should write the ... sure I should. And how much of the assault, the kidnaping do I tell about?"
"Are you going to report it to the sheriff?"
"Wow! Assault and battery because he touched me, attempted rape, kidnaping. But he could charge me with assault because of the gun, and of auto theft. No, I don't think I'll report it. I wrecked his car for him, that should be enough."
"He might've killed you."
"True, but he didn't. I think I'll start it with the kidnaping at knife point, then work back and fill in my hitchhike assignment, my helper, everything that happened up to that including all of Juanita's rules. Then close it out with how I got away from him by flashing a toy gun and scaring him."
"Sounds good. You'd better let Mr. Marshall clear it before you send it to the machines. He'll approve it. He doesn't like to see girls hitchhiking."
"This should be a good story. I bet I can discourage a few girls from trying it." She sat down and started typing. The story flowed out and she knew she wouldn't have to change a word of it. It seemed like she was reporting some big news and typing directly on the newswire that spread it all over the country. She kept a carbon copy and decided to send it to the Journal. She'd time it so it would come out in the Journal two days after it was printed here.
About seven o'clock that evening, she quit work. Mr. Marshall had read her hitchhike story and given her a big pat on the back, saying it was one of the best news stories they'd ever had in the paper. He told her to be sure to send a copy to the Journal for use after the News-Times came out. He was not the kind of a man who gave out many compliments.
She turned the key in her apartment door lock and pushed it open. At first she didn't notice anything wrong. Then as she closed the door, she was sure that she heard water running in the kitchen. That was impossible. Unless she had left it running that morning.
Markanna had just taken two steps toward the sofa when a young boy danced around the partition from the kitchen. He was naked. She turned to run out of the apartment, but another form flashed behind her. Dan stood in front of her door, without a stitch of clothes on.
"Oh, Dan, why did you do this?"
"'Cause you like my prick. You eat my balls."
"Not any more, Dan. Get your clothes on and get out of here, and take these little boys with you."
She had seen the second boy now edge out of the kitchen. He was as naked as the others.
"Hey, like that sweater. Your old tits really stand out. You going without a bra again, that's good. Take off the sweater, Annie. Take it off and I'll let you lick my cock."
She turned and looked at the others then. Both were smaller than Dan. Maybe thirteen. Each had a stiff cock and each had it in his hand. She was sure they had been jerking off before she came.
The boy skin warmed her blood, but she pushed it down.
"Dan, I said I'm through with you. You get out of here right now, or I'm going to call the cops."
"Fat chance. I'll tell them you fucked me, and these guys watched you. They'll say you propositioned them, and showed them your tits by the school. Who will the cops believe?"
He had walked away from the door now. He was that sure of himself. The three stood near each other, and it was so much soft, tender boy skin that she shivered. And three young cocks calling to her. How in hell could she beat the rap?
Dan stretched his cock out, then pulled it down so it stuck out at right angles to his belly. She groaned. It was too much to ask her to take. She was suddenly burning, her nipples throbbed through her sweater. But there was no way she was going to get involved with even one more underage kid, let alone three, for shit's sake!
The second boy started to hump his hips and jerk off faster. He began to moan and she saw his hip pounding his prick into his hand.
It was more than she could stand. The first shot of cum hadn't left his prick yet by the time she rushed up to him. She dropped on her knees and pulled the little cock into her mouth, cupping his balls in her hands and squeezing gently.
He climaxed at once, jamming his skinny prick down her throat, punching against her face six, then seven times until he was drained.
She realized the other boys were around her, feeling her. Her sweater came up around her chin and hands fondled her hot breasts. She felt a mouth over one tit, and she groaned too. She was almost on the floor and she had no idea how she had slumped there. One mouth now covered each tit and she felt hands at her crotch.
Oh, fuck, how had this happened? She wanted to cry, but she was so fucking hot, so sexy excited that she couldn't. The hand knew just what to do, worming under the top of the panty hose, stretching it down to her waist and then jamming one finger deep into her pussy. Another finger found her clit and he trundled it. Three, four then five times he hit it and she groaned.
It was strange, a fast strange climax that shook her only once, then made her so hot, so burning up that she wanted to pull off the rest of her clothes. She felt the boy teeth on her tits, but they didn't bother her. Someone stripped the panty hose from her thighs and legs, and someone pulled off her skirt. Her shoes went during the melee somewhere and she remembered her sweater being pulled off over her head. There goes another hairset, she had felt, but the surge of the hot climax was still there. She walked on hot coals, sailed through open hearth blast furnaces, and at last dropped into the very fire storm of a volcano, only to laugh at them all and melt them with her own heat and surge on somewhere else to singe and char them with her fire.
"She's dead!" a small voice said.
"Hell, no. She's climaxing, the way you feel when you cum. Girls cum too."
She listened. Another voice doubted it.
"She sure looks like she's dying to me, maybe we better get out of here."
"Naw, I tell you she's just hot and climaxing. She always rests a while afterwards. Girls have to, I guess. And if you leave, where else you going to go find pussy like this and get your hands on real girl tits?"
She knew that was Dan. The others apparently were convinced. She felt hands back on her breasts and again at her crotch. She groaned and rolled over.
Dan's hand began spreading her cheeks, working a finger into her tight bung. She was about as ass-hole hot as they came. It really got her bells chiming to get ass fucked.
Dan kept working his finger, then without saying a word to her went between her thighs and began nosing into her, slowly at first, missing it five times, then on the sixth he drove in his prick true and she groaned again.
"That must be you Danny, right?"
"Yeah."
"How'd you get in?"
"Like in the spy movies, a piece of hard plastic, like a credit card. Used an old one. These locks are simple to beat."
"I could have you arrested, breaking and entering."
"Never broke a damned thing."
"Dan."
"Yeah?"
"That feels wild."
"Me too, but I'm gonna cum too fast."
"Don't, hold off."
"How?"
"Think about something different, like football, or hunting, going on a hike, taking a cold shower."
She waited a few moments. He had stopped moving above her. "Is it working?"
"Yeah, but not for long."
"Go, then, Danny. Go hot and hard and fast and make it last as long as you can. Go!"
He did, fucking her hard into her ass, pounding and pounding until he came with a little yell that must have scared the other boys. She was watching one. He sat with his cock in his hand on the floor beside them. She wanted to reach out and hold it for him, but he'd cum, so she watched instead.
She was over her fucking hotness. She could think again. And her whole mind told her to get rid of the boys as fast as she could. When Danny pulled out of her, his prick had a light brown coating on it. She laughed and ran for the bathroom. The whole room smelled like shit.
The two boys almost fainted. She told them that's what happened if you fucked too hard. They both listened, eyes wide. The smallest ran for the kitchen and came back with his pants on and his shirt almost buttoned. She let him out the front door and then turned. The second small boy had his pants on now and slipped into his shirt. He stopped in front of her, reached out and patted her tits, then leaned in and kissed each one.
"Good goddamn," he said as he buttoned his shirt and moved out the door. By the time Dan got back into the living room, she was dressed again and reading a magazine.
"Dan, get your clothes on right this minute, the other guys are waiting for you outside. I want to treat you all to a milkshake. Could you stand that?"
He nodded, saw she had outfoxed him and got his clothes.
"You really don't want me to come over any more?"
"Right, the next time I'll get a knife and use it on you. I'm pretty good with a fighting knife."
He stepped back. "I thought you liked it?"
"Like what, fucking? Of course, every woman does in the proper situation. We're just not right for each other, too young and too old. Go find a girl your own age and teach her how to fuck. Somebody has to, you know."
He was dressed. She gave him two dollars, then added one more and pointed him for the door.
"This is absolutely the last time, Danny, ever. You understand? I like you, and I don't want to spoil you, which I have been doing lately. You should have to earn your fucks."
She had just finished doing the dishes when the phone rang. It was Willy.
"Hey, how's it going? I mean, any relapses from your traumatic assault this morning?"
"Willy, great of you to call. That's sweet of you.
No, just my mean old self. I'm a tough nut."
"Right, I noticed that this noon when you fell apart in the office. You're about as tough as a banana nut."
"What's that?"
"That's the tough outer skin of a banana."
"You're crazy."
"True, I work on a weekly newspaper, that's the first requirement. Maybe that's why I kind of dig other crazy people who work on weekly newspapers."
"How many others?"
"Oh, one."
"That little redhead in the hot pants in the front office?"
"No."
"The shotput-thrower type who works in bindery?"
"Wrong."
"Hey, the chain-smoking swivel hipper who's our only female Linotype operator?"
"Getting closer. Actually it's our big-bosomed, slender-waisted, beautiful-faced, fantastic hair, great personality and Pulitizer prize winning newshen. That should narrow down your choices."
She didn't say anything for a moment. She didn't know how to reply. It should be something soft and tender, but the words wouldn't come.
"You're a smooth talking son-of-a-gun, Willy."
"My best side."
The line was dead for a moment. "Hey, you still breathing?"
"A little." She sighed. "Want to come over for a while?"
"I better not. The city council might not like it if I didn't come back to the second half of its important meeting."
"Tell the city council it can go eat cake."
"Sometimes I'd like to. When we're both working for the Journal down there in the big city, we won't even worry about how to spell their names up here."
"Three more months and I'm going to go down there and see them again."
"You might not need to, once that hitchhike story hits the wires."
"You think the wire services will pick it up?"
"Sure, it's going to move on the feature wire as soon as it breaks into print in the Journal. They'll hold it for their exclusive, then you're on."
"Hey, I got to catch my breath. You think that might be the ticket to getting me a job down there?"
"Been known to happen. They almost always need good women feature writers. Not just somebody to do society. Don't let them trap you on the feature page, I mean the society page. Hold out for general features or general news assignments. Hell, tell them you'll take the night police beat. That's a spot where lots of guys start out. Hours are lousy, but it's good experience.
"Blood and bullets."
"True."
"Hey, they're going back in from their beer break. See you in the morning. Sleep well."
"Right, go get them guys. Good-bye."
She held the phone for a few minutes after he hung up. She didn't want anyone else calling and spoiling her mood. It was such a delicious feeling. Such a time for dreaming about a new job, and a man called Willy.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The rest of the week seemed to slam past for Markanna. They got the paper put to bed, and she was thrilled that her story on hitchhiking had a page-one spread with a picture of three girls hitching and a six-column banner headline: Perils of Hitchhiking. The subhead read: Girl reporter assaulted in real life hitchhiking drama.
The paper created a small sensation in town. She stopped answering the phone at her house, and she got dozens of calls at the office on Friday.
Saturday night Willy took her out again. They had a local movie that looked good, then when it got out they went to the Legion dance. As in many small towns, the Legion Club held open dances for "members and friends," but anyone who could pay the tab could get in. It drew about a hundred and fifty to two-hundred persons every Saturday night, and local talent orchestras usually played. The music was live but not rock, a mixture of late 40's through 60's tunes.
The dancing was in sets of three just like back in the 1940's and the bar was open again for "members and friends." The dance floor was the Legion hall auditorium, a big room about eighty feet wide and a hundred feet long.
At least twice a night the cops had to come drag some drunk out, but it gave a little bit of life to an otherwise very dull Pinehills social life.
It was about eleven-thirty, with the dancing set to continue until one-thirty, when they heard the sirens. The cop on duty checked with his radio and ran for his car. A big truck car crash out on the highway. Willy asked the cop if he could ride along, and since he had signed a disclaimer for any accident or injury, the cop said sure.
But Markanna hadn't signed the paper.
"Come on, let her go too," Willy argued. "She's also a reporter."
The cop shook his head. "Could be my job. I like it."
She told him she'd get her sweater at the check booth and drive his car to her apartment. He could pick it up there when he came back from the crash site.
She was in line at the check booth waiting to get her white sweater when Tyler came up behind her and bumped the back of her knees with his. She sagged backward and he caught her.
"Hey, baby, I just saved you from a nasty fall. Let's have a dance and talk about it."
She shook her head. "Sorry, I'm just leaving."
"What's with you and that dumb reporter, anyway? I could squash him with one fist."
"That's why I like him, Ty. He isn't you."
Tyler caught her hand and would have dragged her to the dance floor if she hadn't gone. She didn't want to create a scene, and especially not with Tyler. She would dance just one with him, then slip out to the women's room, and wait until he left.
But the dance didn't stop. He held her fast for five sets and she was exhausted. He was dancing everyone so close she could feel his turgid prick in his pants. The cops were all at the wreck. She hadn't the slightest idea how to get rid of him.
"I've got to go, Ty. Now let go of me."
"You go, I go," he said.
"Tyler, I'm tired, and you're making me angry. You can go anywhere you want to, I don't care. But you let go of me or I'm going to scream and claw your face and bite your hand and have half the gentlemen in the place ready to take you apart. You hear me?"
"Sure, sure, little wildcat. I'll even get your coat." He took the check tab away from her and went to the head of the line and got it.
He carried the sweater as they went out the door. He pointed toward his Mustang convertible in a no-parking zone.
"Climb aboard, we can go somewhere and neck."
She shook her head. "I'm driving a car home. Now give me my sweater and get lost."
She wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but a moment later she was upside down in the passenger side of his car and he had driven away. Her face was against the floor mat and it smelled of oil and rubber, as she screamed at him.
He stopped a block farther on and straightened her up and snapped her in the seat belt. When she tried to open the belt, it wouldn't come apart.
Tyler laughed and drove her to his house outside of town.
He used a pair of pliers and opened the seat belt, then threw her over his shoulder and carried her into his house. He had lived there with his mother until her death two years ago. The house was a mess. Filthy would be a better word. Markanna beat on his back as he carried her inside, through the living room to a bedroom. The unmade bed was her landing pad. He dumped her on it and locked the bedroom door with an old fashioned skeleton key in the key hole.
"Make the damn bed, then we'll fuck," Tyler said.
She threw a pillow at him. "No."
He dived for her, grabbed her and began pulling off her clothes. She didn't struggle so much he had to rip them, she knew there was nothing else to do right then. But when she did get away, she wanted some clothes left to leave in.
When she was naked he dropped his pants and shorts and she stared at his huge tool. She had forgotten how big his logger-prick was. Eight inches long at least, maybe more, and as big around as her arm. It didn't excite her. She was cold and firmly in control. If he took her, it would be pure rape, she knew that. A weapon, where was there a weapon she could use? She couldn't find a thing.
He spread her on the bed, biting her tits until he left jagged tooth marks. He laughed and pushed his prick between her tits.
"Man, have you got big tits, you know that? Bet you've got as much good tits as any motherfucker in town. Oh, some of them slobby bitches probably got more, but it don't look as good. Yours is pure fucking tit, theirs is all fat."
He spread her legs and jammed a finger up her cunt. She yelped and he grinned. "What you want first, uppity cunt, a good asshole reaming out, or maybe a mouth job? Been a long time since I had a good suckoff."
He held her face with one hand, forcing her mouth open, then when she didn't expect it, he jammed hard with his hips and his big cock was started into her.
Markanna screamed. The pain was like a stilletto slicing through her vagina. Pain and blood mingled as he kept nudging deeper and deeper. At last her stretching muscles caught up with him and he eased in more until he was sunk to his roots.
"Easy, yeah, real good cunt. You've got a good pussy, you know that pretty tits? A nice fucking cunt. Probably as good as any in town. Some of them bitches I have a time getting into. The bigger the girl the easier for me to fuck. I had this big bitch, she stood six-feet two in her bare-assed feat, no fuck, and she had a cunt on her like a cow. Man, I never simply plopped into no cunt before, nor since but hers. She said I didn't nearly fill her up, but I'd do in a pinch. I mother-fucked her ten times that night and she was just starting to get warmed up. Said she had three cocks up her twat at once one time. Now two I can figure out, but how do you get the bodies stacked up for three pricks in one cunt?"
She didn't answer him. She had never felt so squashed before. The big lug wasn't supporting his weight at all on his hands or feet. Over two hundred and seventy pounds were crushing down on her.
"You're gonna press me flat. Lift off me a little?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Okay." Lifting up, he began to jam his dick in and out of her, and she knew he wouldn't cum quickly. He didn't. It was a battering, plunging, searing and blistering three minutes. She was sure she had at least one blister along her outer lips. She'd be swollen and painful tomorrow.
At last he climaxed. It, after all the preparation was a real anti-climax. She felt nothing. He panted harder twice and came out of her. He sat on the bed, wiped his cock off on the sheet, and spit on the floor.
"Yeah, a good fuck, you are a good fuck."
"May I use your bathroom?" she asked.
There was one in the bedroom, a connecting door. She thought of locking herself in there, but that was no good. She found a pair of scissors with three-inch blades. At last a weapon! Right then she didn't care if she killed him. She simply had her fill of being raped and punched and poked like an inflatable doll.
Back in the bedroom he looked up at her and scowled.
"I suppose you've found the scissors. You're not the first bitch to see them and try something. Nobody's ever cut me yet."
He stood in front of her, grinning, his legs apart, his shirt still on and his swollen cock about half limp. He laughed. "No way you can cut me from there, you got to move in closer."
She held the scissors the way Willy had shown her and at once he frowned.
"Hey, you know something about blade fighting?"
She took a step toward him and his hands came out, ready to smash her down, scissors and all. His crotch was open. Something told her to kick. She had heard for years that that was the most disabling blow you could use on a man. Kick his crotch, his balls really. She moved her left foot forward. She used to be pretty good kicking the ball at school, the round one. She pretended to push the scissors toward him. He moved in half step closer to her and she kicked hard with her right foot.
It slammed into his crotch just below his scrotum, skidded off his inner thigh and smashed hard against his balls, pushing them up against his pelvic bones, crushing them, mashing them.
His arms dropped, a wild, expression of total disbelief and pain on his face. He began to crumple, then fell to the floor moaning and trying to hold his balls.
She watched him for a moment, expecting a trick. But he began to cry, tears rolling down his rough cheeks. She looked at the scissors held low, ready. She stepped toward him, watched all of his body expecting him to lunge at her. But when she saw he was in no shape to move, she yelled and pushed the scissors straight ahead at his chest, the handles firmly in her palm, her arm in a straight line behind the weapon, giving her an unknown killing power.
The sharp-pointed scissors plunged through his thin shirt, grazed a rib and sank deeply into his right lung. He stared up at her in surprise again, then rolled back onto the floor.
She dressed as quickly as she could. Tried to wipe any fingerprints she may have left off the scissors and the bathroom, then she found his car keys in his pants pocket and slipped out of the house. The car started easily, the shift was like hers and a moment later she was driving back into town. She left the car three blocks from her apartment building in a small shopping center parking lot, and walked home quickly. She saw no one on the street. Her car was safely in her parking slot. Upstairs she phoned the police.
"Yeah, Pinehills police."
"A stabbing, at Tyler Young's place, get an ambulance." She hung up at once before the officer could ask her anything else. When the phone clicked off she waited three minutes, then got a dial tone and called Willy.
"Yeah?"
He had answered on the first ring. She wasn't quite ready to say anything. "Yeah, who is this?"
"Willy, I need you."
"Annie?"
"Yes."
"I'll be right over."
She hung up and put down the phone, then sat there on the couch without moving. It was almost four minutes later when the doorbell rang. Then the door opened and someone came in and closed it.
"Annie, Annie are you all right?"
She turned to him, tears welling up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, silent tears, because she could make no sound. She reached for him and he sat beside her, stroking her hair, his arms around her telling her it was all right. He was there now, and nothing was going to hurt her.
He glanced at the clock. It was a little after two. He had been at the wreck for an hour, came back to get his camera to take some pictures with and found his car still where they had left it. He went back and got the photos and came back. Her phone didn't answer and he started to get worried. He had been waiting ever since.
It was over an hour later when she looked up at him and reached up tenderly and kissed his lips.
"Thank you for coming, Willy. I'm not sure, but I think I probably killed Tyler."
CHAPTER TWELVE
It took her a half hour to tell him. She went through the whole thing, just as it happened, and he listened without interrupting, without a question. When she was done he kissed her lips and called the hospital.
"Milly, you on night duty again. Hell, Milly, tell them to give you a break. About that truck driver, how's he doing?" He listened. "And the kids in the car?" Again he listened. "Well, I'll get back to you Wednesday morning for a condition report, okay? Anything else going on?"
He listened closely. "Don't say. Old Tyler, tough old Ty?" He listened. Then he laughed. "Yeah, hell, he's too tough to kill. Maybe we'll get lucky next time. He say who done him in?"
He listened, and chuckled. "Yeah, thanks, Milly. I'll make my usual Wednesday morning call and clean up all the late stuff. You be good now."
He hung up.
"Tyler isn't dead. But it was discovered he has a crushed testical and the wound in his right chest is serious but not fatal. It did puncture his lung, but after a week in the hospital he'll be back cutting down trees. Milly said they got him off a police ambulance, but he refused to talk to the cops, saying he was embarrassed. He was trimming his toe nails and he fell down, smashing his balls and stabbing himself all at the same time. That's his story, and the cops are not even going to file a report on it."
She smiled up at him. Tears coming again, tears of joy, of happiness, of devotion.
"Willy, I don't know what I'd've done without you this week."
He nestled lower in the couch, holding her firmly.
"I don't think I'd've wanted to do this week without you, Annie. Now I think it's time you got some real sleep. I could claim I should undress you and put you to bed, but I won't. I want to, Annie, but I won't. Does that make sense?"
She smiled for the first time in hours. "It makes a great deal of sense to me, Willy. And I thank you. I understand and I appreciate it. There'll be another time."
"Promise?"
"It seems I'm always promising you something. Yes, I promise." She sat up. "I'll be all right now. Thank you for coming, and I'm sorry I messed up your evening."
"Messed it up?" He shook his head. "I'm still going to have to edit some of your stuff, you realize that?"
"True, now get out of here."
He grinned and left, not letting her come to the door. When he closed the door and she heard the lock snap into place, she tried to relax. She could go to sleep right there. She had wanted to kill Tyler, which was stupid because there must have been a hundred people at the dance who knew that he took her out of the Legion Hall. She would have been the first suspect.
She stood and walked to the bedroom and took off her clothes and had a shower, then into bed. She had all day tomorrow to recover and dream and maybe get a call from Willy. They still had a picnic coming to them.
When she woke up the sun streamed in the windows, and she wanted that picnic. She phoned and he was home.
"Hoping you would call. How do you feel?"
"Oh, fine, don't worry about that part of me. So I'll be a little sore for a while, I'll get over it. What I really want is a picnic. Remember that one we almost had before?"
"Right. I've got the whole day off, and a full tank of gas."
"That sounds beautiful, just so it's some place beside a small rushing stream."
He was at her apartment a half hour later, helping her pack the lunch basket. The left-over wine tasted flat, but they took it anyway.
He drove up into the hills, found a side road and tracked a rivulet upstream until they could leap across it. Willy found just the right spot and spread the blanket for her to lay out the food. It was perfect. After they ate and finished the bottle of wine, he reached up and kissed her. His lips lingered on hers, but he didn't force her. When she pulled up he dropped his head back in her lap and stared at the changing high clouds.
"You know, I could find that most habit forming, young lady."
"It's a new narcotic lipstick I use called Big H."
He sat up. "No jiving around, woman. I like you. I see you at the office all day, but that's different. Up here with a smile and that new lipstick, you're a bewitching creature."
"Ah, the wiles of a woman. Tell you the truth, it's hard to be bewitching when you're screaming at some correspondent, fighting with Andy about a headline, or trying to cram another club announcement into a page."
"Damn practical girl, too."
"What're you doing, making a list and checking it twice?"
"Make a note that this one has no sense of humor."
She bent down and kissed him. Sweet, tender. Then she lay down beside him, held his hand and they talked for almost two hours. He never made a move to pet her, and she was just as happy.
The next day at work she knew she was going to have to make one more try to get Dan out of her system. She saw him and told him to meet her on the corner before at noon. He grinned, rubbed his prick and said he would.
She picked him up and drove fast to the same spot across town where they had been before. As they drove, he had his hand on her leg, then as they stopped he kissed her hard and worked his hand under her blouse to her breasts.
"Dan, I've got some good news and some bad news for you." She smiled and unbuttoned her blouse. "The good news is that you can suck and chew and gobble up my titties all you want to."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dan said.
"Wait until you hear the bad news. Dan, the bad news is that this's the last time, because you don't turn me on any more. Go ahead, try to get me hot."
He tried. She had opened her blouse, displaying her breasts to him, but his tongue, his lips, his teeth or his hands couldn't even get a faint stirring from her.
She looked at him and watched his cock get hard, and laughed softly. There was nothing! Not even a flicker. She was as cold as a mother hen in December in a trough full of rainwater.
He tried, he milked her big tits, chewed on them, he got his hand between her legs and rubbed and rubbed on her crotch, right where her pussy was, but he couldn't even get her to breathing hard.
At last he pulled out his cock and jacked off, letting the cum spurt on the dash, the droosle on the seat.
"Are you convinced now, little cock, that I just don't want you any more? Have you figured out that I don't need you any more?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Shit, but it was wild while it lasted."
"Sure it was wild, but it didn't last long, Dan. It couldn't last long because it was free pussy, and free prick. Sex has to cost something, it has to cost in emotional or behavioristic stability, or lack of it. Sooner or later all that free sex catches up with a person. So you better learn right now that from here on you're going to have to pay for everything you get, including sex, and I don't mean with dollars, smart ass."
She put herself back together and buttoned her blouse. She had taken her bra off in the women's room at work and would put it back on just as soon as she could. Now, she didn't feel right without it on.
Markanna was humming on her way back into town. She let Dan off at the corner and wheeled around and into the parking lot. Willy was getting ready to leave.
"Got a fire to cover. Hey, how about tonight? I'd like to show you my apartment."
She stared at him. "Just what is that supposed to indicate in our rapidly growing relationship?"
He watched her closely. "That indicates that I want to know you better, and that I want you to find out more about me, about my home, my life, what interests me. What wine I like, how many pairs of socks I have."
"No hanky panky?"
He laughed.
"No worry, Annie. I think the publisher and his wife might be upset if we started making love on the living room rug."
"They will be there?"
"Right, it's my first annual barbecue and fish fry for four."
"I could have run an item in the society page about it coming up."
"Nope, I just worked it out this morning. I'll pick you up at the office at five, would that be all right?"
"To take me home so I can change?"
"Right."
"Hey, your fire is going to be out before you get there."
He left the parking lot with tires smoking.
It was five before she realized it, and Willy had called, asking if he could beg off on his offer to pick her up. She said she'd drive herself, and try to get beautiful before she came to his place at 6:30.
The whole evening was a smashing acucess. Mrs. Marshall first assumed they were married, and said she always could pick out the happy couples. Then she assumed they were living together. After she stopped blushing about that, she made it very clear that whatever their current situation was, she knew that they belonged together. She never missed, she said. The fish and the ribs were good, not spectacular. Willy had been a cook in a barbecue place while going through college. He could cook much better than Markanna could. After the Marshalls left they sat on the couch in the middle of all the soiled party things.
"Hey, could I have that kiss now?"
"What kiss?"
"The one I've been wanting all night."
"Only if I get to have seconds." He slid over on the sofa and pulled her against him. His lips touched hers so softly she wondered if he was there, but gradually it increased in pressure until she was caught in a sudden serious sexy kiss. He let her go and she realized she was breathing harder.
"Wow, that was a real kiss. You have any more like that?"
He kissed her again and she wanted to lean back and get him on top of her. Slow! she shouted to herself. She half lay in his arms looking up at him.
"Willy, I have one small little itch. If you'll scratch it for me, then we can get up from this dangerous place and do the dishes."
"Oh, no, I'll do them tomorrow."
"No, I insist, but first my itch." She took his hand and placed it over her breast. "That's where my itch is, darling, just a little scratch, so you remember I am a girl and not a sports reporter."
He rubbed her breast gently, and she felt it heat and sizzle through the fabric. When she was ready to burn, she moved his hand and kissed his cheek.
"Now, while I can still stand up, let's get the dishes done."
He kissed her once more before he let her up. She knew right then, she had played it long and down the middle for a change and had been right. She would have no more problems, no more experimentations. She had found herself a man, and she knew what he wanted, and how much to let him have. She was determined to hold onto her final bargaining power right up to that church aisle.
She leaned down and kissed him once more, forgetting how that dress billowed out at the bodice. He stared down at her breasts for a minute and the smile that came over his face was as good as a contract.
