"As the twig is bent," goes an old saying, "so grows the tree." Adapted to human life the meaning is one that psychologists have been proclaiming for years: The child taught to behave - or to react - in a certain way will do so in just that pattern throughout his life.
Many learned tomes have been written on the subject, most of those scientific in nature. But the literary world has seen its share too. None, however, in the belief of the publishers of this stunning new novel by Myra Kaine, had made the point more dramatically nor with more precision than Orgy At Teacher's. It is for this reason that we are so proud to present this work.
The author has shown with clear and penetrating insight the life of the very young Carli Mills, has taken her on through the time of her adolescence, and finally has depicted with equal perception the terrible and terrifying events of her maturity.
The heroine of Myra Kaine's poignant novel is a normal child, brought up in the harsh and destructive environment created by her man-hating Aunt Sarah. A simple childhood indiscretion--one, according to all child psychologists that is the rule rather than the exception - brings forth the wrath of the embittered woman with whom she lives and the child is severely punished. The result is an emotional scar which she must bear all her life, a wounded psyche that is never healed.
There are many scenes in this frank novel which will startle and even shock the reader. But they all ring true and add to, rather than detract from, the outstanding merits of this book. The author has seen life as it is and portrayed it accordingly. If there is an emphasis on the sexual life of Carli Mills, it is because this is essentially the story of her warped and twisted response to the most vital of all human passions.
The result, we believe, is a masterpiece. Orgy At Teacher's may likely make readers think of that other classic of a "bent twig", L.P. Hartley's The Go-Between. We, the publishers, are proud to present a book of this stature to the reading public.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Five year old Carli Mills dug her spade into the moist ground, tossing a shovel full of the soft earth onto the growing pile beside the hole. If she dug far enough, she thought, she could get to China. Or if not China, maybe some other place that would be just as exciting.
Even digging a tunnel to the house next door would make her happy. With a tunnel, she could worm her way under the fence and old Aunt Sarah would never be the wiser. She stood back, glancing ruefully at the back porch of the small frame house in which she lived. Aunt Sarah lived there too, and Uncle Dan. But Uncle Dan was warm and sunny and loving; the only trouble was that the little girl didn't see him very often. He always seemed to be away on business.
But Aunt Sarah, on the other hand, was always around, and always ordering Carli to do this or that. "Eat your spinach, Carli!"
"But I don't like spinach, Aunt Sarah."
"You what?" Aunt Sarah had glared at her as if she were the most evil creature on all of God's good earth, and Carli had quickly changed her mind about the spinach, forking it into her little rosebud mouth and swallowing it quickly, although for a moment she was afraid she was going to be sick.
Sometimes, though, Aunt Sarah didn't bother to glare. Instead the child felt the sting of her bony hand across her plump round face, felt her head swimming as she was swept up and soundly shaken, felt the sharp smack of a slipper across her little buttocks. Now, digging busily, Carli glanced again at the porch and since there was no one in sight stuck her tongue out. "I hate you, Aunt Sarah," she whispered. And then, intoxicated by her own courage she let out a whoop of joy.
A moment later Aunt Sarah's face appeared at the window which she pushed open a few inches. "What on earth is the matter with you, child?" she demanded.
Carli hung her head contritely. "Nothing," she said.
"I thought I heard you scream."
This time the curly blonde head swung vigorously back and forth. "No, I didn't," she lied glibly. "No, I didn't."
"All right," Aunt Sarah said, pulling down the window. "Now you play nicely. And don't you leave your own yard," she added.
Carli brushed a bit of dirt from the skirt of her brief cotton dress. "Don't leave your yard," she repeated glumly. But what was there to do here? She was tired of digging holes and she couldn't, for the life of her, think of anything else she wanted to do. She had already set out both her dolls in a row, had made their lunch out of twigs and pebbles and served it to them on the broad leaves that had fallen from the huge tree that shaded the yard. What else was there to do?
She bit her lip, wondering, and then she heard her name spoken. "That's ol' Carli Mills over there," a young voice said. "Ol' Carli Mills. She can't leave her own yard!"
The child whirled around toward the fence that separated her yard from that next door. Tony Douglas was standing there, his hands in the pockets of his overalls, staring at her with his round blue eyes. With the back of a damp chubby hand, he wiped the straw-colored bangs off his forehead and out of his eyes. When he saw that Carli had turned to face him he repeated his statement. "Ol' Carli Mills! She can't leave her own yard."
Carli screwed her face up into an expression of the utmost distaste, sticking her tongue out again and trying desperately to cross her eyes. Just because Tony was a whole year older than she was, was no reason for him to act so mean!
She saw then that Andy Foreman ... even a month or so older than Tony ... was standing beside him. And then she heard his voice as he joined the chorus. "Carli can't leave her own yard. She has to stay home!" He gave Tony a playful punch with a small doubled fist. "Know why?" he asked.
The other small boy shook his head, acting perplexed. "No," he said. "Why?"
" 'Cuz she's a girl, that's why!" The little boy's voice left no doubt as to his idea of where girls stood in the scheme of things. Obviously, it was a little lower than the worms.
"Sticks an' stones can break my bones," Carli began in a sing-song voice, "but names will never hurt me."
The other two children burst out in raucous laughter and it occurred to her that the slogan she had quoted might not have been quite appropriate. But she didn't care! She tossed her head and her long blonde curls spun out around her head like a golden halo. Boys were nasty, she thought. Just plain nasty! She wouldn't have gone over to play with them even if Aunt Sarah had allowed it.
But the continuing chant began to annoy her. "Poor ol' Carli ... can't leave her yard ... poor ol' Carli..."
She turned away from her young tormentors for a few moments and began to dig again in her garden. She didn't care, she told herself. She didn't care!
The chant became more and more insistent though, until at last her temper flared. "Can't leave her yard," she heard echoing through her head.
She whirled around, throwing down the small shovel. "I can too," she said.
"Then why don't you?" Tony asked with exasperating reasonableness.
"Because I don't want to. That's why."
Again there was a loud guffaw as the two small boys poked at one another. "Because I don't want to," they mimicked her cruelly. "Because I don't want to."
Carli's face was flushed with anger now and her tiny figure trembled. A tear came to her eye and she brushed it away furiously. "I wouldn't go over to your yard if I had to," she announced in desperation. "If I had to, I wouldn't go."
The two little boys retreated for a moment, wandering away from the fence and toward the shed at the back of the yard, engaged in earnest conversation. Their two heads bent forward as they whispered together. And then the whispering stopped and Carli saw that they were glancing backward over their shoulders at her.
She set to work more assiduously than ever, digging deeper and deeper into the sandy earth while the soil flew out about her. When she began to tire she stopped and daintily brushed off her dress again. She hated little boys, she decided. All they did was tease you. But at the same time she longed with all her heart to slip out of her own yard... climb the fence perhaps, or even go around it... into the forbidden territory of the yard next door.
She lifted her head and turned it slightly. Tony and Andy were whispering again and she wondered what they were saying. It was something exciting... Carli was sure of that... some secret she would give almost anything to know. But there was no way for her to find out and she felt a new surge of anger against her Aunt Sarah.
The child still watched the two boys out of the corner of her eye while she pretended to be absorbed in filling up the hole she had dug. And then she saw that they had opened the door to the shed and were staring into it, expressions of rapt attention--even of fascination--on their faces.
They raised their voices now and their clear young tones carried across the yard to Carli, as they were meant to. "Gee!" Tony exclaimed. "I bet you never seen anything like that. I bet you never going to again, neither. Never in a million trillion years."
"In a trillion, jillion years!" Andy said. "I bet in a trillion, jillion years."
Tony turned toward Carli, sighing audibly.
"Poor ol' Carli," he said for what seemed to the little girl to be the hundredth time. "Too bad she can't see it."
By now the temptation had become too great for her. She threw down the small spade and sauntered across the yard to the fence. She stood there, peering through the wire netting that stretched between the fence posts. "Why can't I see it?" she demanded, her hands on her hips. "You tell me that, Tony Douglas."
Now it was Tony's turn to stride toward the fence and peer through it, followed closely by Andy. " 'Cuz you can't come over in my yard," he explained with a sigh as if he were talking to a retarded child. "That's why."
"Who says I can't?" Carli's voice was shrill with indignation.
"Your Aunt Sarah," Tony answered, "that's who."
"She didn't," the little girl protested. "She never said anything like that."
"No?" The tone was jeering.
"No!" Carli stamped her foot.
"Okay. Come on over then."
The enormity of the crime she was about to commit ... leaving her own yard ... suddenly struck Carli and she hesitated. What if Aunt Sarah should find out?
She stopped to look toward the house. There was no sigh of her aunt there. Even so she still hung back until Tony challenged her one last time. "You don't dare come over, do you?"
"Of course I do. Why shouldn't I?" She tried to be nonchalant about the whole matter.
"Because if your mean ol' Aunt Sarah catches you, you'll get a whipping', that's why."
"I will not!"
"Yes, you will."
"I will not!"
"Then come on over!"
Trembling with fear now lest she be caught and at the same time smarting under the humiliation of Tony's words, she finally flounced out of her own yard and scurried into the one next door. "See," she said, throwing back her head with pure bravado, "I told you I could come over."
The two boys stared at her awhile and then Andy nudged Tony. "She's not really in the yard," he said. "I mean she's just standing there right next to the fence."
Tony nodded. "Yeah," he said. "If she's allowed to come over here why doesn't she come and see what's in the shed?"
The question was meant for Andy but it was Carli who answered. "Because it's almost lunch time," she said haughtily. "I can't stay over here because it's lunch time."
"That's too bad," Andy said. "You won't get to see what's in the shed."
Disappointment spread over the child's face and suddenly all thought of Aunt Sarah fled. There was something wonderful in there, something no one would ever see again in a "trillion jillion" years.
"What is it?" she suddenly demanded. "What's in the shed?" Throwing caution to the winds she advanced toward it, walking on tiptoe so as not to frighten whatever it might be.
The small boys followed her, one of them reaching out to open the door. Carli peered in, her wide round eyes gradually becoming accustomed to the feeble light. And then she turned, her small chin quivering. "There's nothing there," she said. "There's nothing there at all."
Once again the other children mocked the little girl. "She's crazy, that's what Carli is," one said. "She says there isn't anything there."
"Yeah, she's crazy." Andy's voice implied that that was the norm for girls.
"But there's nothing there." she protested.
"Sure there is. Go on in!"
Carli stepped forward, followed by the boys. Suddenly the door closed behind her, shutting out at least some of the light. But the sun's beams that penetrated the high, small-paned window on the opposite side almost made up for it. She moved toward it, standing in the warmth of a yellow ray of light and looking around.
"Where is it?" she asked, raising her voice. "Where is it?"
"Where is what?"
"Whatever you said was in here."
The two boys exchanged smug glances. "We hid it," Andy said at last.
"But you said I could see it!"
"You gotta do something for us first, though."
"What? What do I have to do?" Carli rubbed her eyes, fighting back the tears. It was just like boys to do something like this ... make her come all the way over here and even leave her yard after Aunt Sarah had told her not to ... and then they wouldn't even show it to her, whatever it was.
"What do I have to do?" Carli asked again, angrier than ever. She was beginning to be anxious about Aunt Sarah now. She had been here what seemed forever, and it would be just like the old woman to raise the window and call to Carli as she had before. "What do I have to do?"
Andy swaggered over to her, a devilish grin on his freckled face. "Take your panties down," he said.
"Yeah, take your panties down," Tony echoed.
Carli stared at the two in shocked dismay. And then she let out a little cry of horror. "No!
No, I won't."
"We won't let you see it then."
"I don't care!" Big scalding tears flowed freely down the little girl's cheeks. They were nasty little boys, that was all. And they hadn't had anything to show her after all. They had just said that to make her come over into their yard and to get her toy go into the shed with them. And if Aunt Sarah ... oh, dear ... if Aunt Sarah ever found out... ! Carli couldn't bring herself to think of the consequences if that happened.
"Oh, look," Tony said in disgust. "She's crying. Oh, fer the love of Pete!"
He seemed almost willing to let the sobbing child go, but Andy was less acquiescent. "Come on," he ordered. "Take your panties off!"
"No! No, I won't!"
"Then I'll make ya!" Andy said. One hand shot out to lift up the short skirt of Carli's dress while he hooked the fingers of the other beneath the elastic waistband of her white cotton panties and tugged at them, pulling them down over her hips and thighs and then letting them fall until they hung around her ankles. As the little girl stood half-naked before him he pursed his lips. "Jees!" he said. "Look at that!"
And now it was Tony's turn to stare in astonishment. "Look!" he said at last. "She hasn't got none ... !"
Carli glanced down at the quivering little slit of her hairless pussy and her face turned red with shame and humiliation. It was bad enough to be forced to stand here half-naked before these awful boys who were examining her with surprised interest; it was even worse to hear their scornful remark, "She hasn't got none!"
Hasn't got what, she wondered. Hasn't got what?
Her lips trembled and impulsively she tried to cover the small naked "vee" between her thighs with her two fat little hands. "What haven't I got?" she managed to ask at last.
"What we got," Andy said proudly.
Carli thought a moment. "What's that?"
"A thing-a-ma-jig..." the little boy informed her. "Want to see mine?"
Carli knew that that was wrong ... it was very wrong. It was even wicked. Nevertheless her curiosity got the best of her. "Yes," she said at last, almost inaudibly.
"Okay." With a flamboyant gesture, Andy unzipped the fly of his overalls, then reached under his own cotton shorts to maneuver his miniature penis into the open.
Carli stared at it in fascinated dismay. He's so fancy, she thought, and I'm so plain. Then, almost in disbelief, she asked, "Does Tony have one too?"
"Sure."
"He does not," she said flatly. "If he did he'd show it to me."
Andy shrugged. "Show her!" he ordered.
Obediently Tony unzipped his own fly and reached under his corduroy overalls for his own slender little penis. But he had trouble finding it and at last, in desperation, he wriggled out of the garment, pulling his cotton underpants down too until he stood before Carli with his hips and thighs bare, his child's penis and balls brazenly displayed to the little girl's view.
Carli shook her head. It still didn't seem possible. Impulsively she reached out to grasp the tiny tip, to hold it in the palm of her hand as if in that way she could be sure that her eyes had not deceived her.
Andy was still staring at Carli's tiny hairless slit, a puzzled expression on his face. "Maybe she's hiding it," he said at last.
Tony pondered the idea. It was his turn to shrug. "Maybe," he said.
"Let's see," Andy suggested. He stepped forward and ran his hands along Carli's trembling flesh. A chubby finger slipped into the narrow split, prodding and probing. And then at last it found the tiny bud of her clitoris. "Yeah," Andy said. "She's got something."
"Like me?" Tony asked.
"No ... I don't think so." He thought the question over. "Maybe," he said.
His own small fingers were still caressing the young white flesh, still running exploratorily up and down the tiny cleft of the little girl's quivering cunt. They teased now at the miniscule mound of her clitoris and a wave of unexpected pleasure washed over her. Oh, it felt so good! She had touched herself there once and then Aunt Sarah had come in and slapped her hands very hard and told her she was a naughty, naughty girl. She hadn't quite known why but she had been afraid and so she had never touched herself again. But now Andy was stroking and fondling her, and she felt somehow excited while a wonderful pleasure swept through her.
For a moment she almost forgot Aunt Sarah in the sheer joy she felt. And then she looked up!
The old woman was staring down at her, her face a mask of sheer hatred. Suddenly she felt the sting of her hand across her bare buttocks as the woman screamed, "You wretched, wretched child!"
She heard the screams of Tony and Andy too, as Aunt Sarah flailed about her letting her blows fall where they might. She heard the little boys' sudden howls of anguished pain and then she was lifted off her feet as her aunt pulled her panties up, then seized her arm and dragged her out of the shed, across the yard and around the fence.
She winced at the blows the woman rained on her quivering little ass-cheeks as she pulled the screaming child along. But she knew that the worst was yet to come.
Through the tears that filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks she saw her aunt pick up a hairbrush before she yanked her along into her own room, settled herself on the bed and pulled the child across her knee. And then Carli felt the awful smarting pain as the hairbrush clacked across her cotton-clad buttocks, falling again and again and again.
The child screamed in anguish and squirmed in a desperate effort to escape, but it was useless. She was held tight as if in a vise while blow after blow was directed against her defenseless buttocks.
It was a long time before the merciless spanking ceased and by then Carli's plump buttocks glowed a painful red beneath her white panties. But at last Aunt Sarah stopped, tossing her aside as if she were a rag doll. And then Carli sobbed her heart out.
She fell asleep when the pain had ebbed from her body. But the pain in her soul would last her lifetime.
CHAPTER TWO
Carli sat at the kitchen table, her blonde head bent over her homework. Algebra was such a drag! It didn't make sense at all. Why should "x" equal "y"? And who cared anyway except that stupid old Mr. Blake who taught the class.
But much as she hated it, Carli knew that she'd better study and study hard. Aunt Sarah wasn't any easier to get along with than she'd been when her niece had been just a tiny tot, and just the sight of her grim, thin-lipped mouth often made the girl's blood curdle.
Sometimes the teenager dreamed of the day when she would be old enough to leave her aunt and make her own way by herself. She could be a movie star, she thought, as she stared at the posters of Raquel Welch and Tuesday Weld in front of the Bijou. She caught sight of herself, reflected in the plate-glass windows of the candy shop next door and knew that she was almost as lovely as they were. She was only fourteen but her body was already beautifully formed. Her waist was slender ... tiny even ... flaring to round voluptuous hips. Her stomach was flat, her thighs long and smooth. Her legs were slim, her calves almost breathtakingly curved. Her breasts, even beneath the bulky sweater she wore, were high-set and full, still ripening yet already firmly swelling.
And her face was as gorgeous as her body. Her brown eyes were set slightly apart and shaded by long silky lashes. Her nose was small and perfect, her mouth wide and generous.
Carli stared at herself for a long time, taking no pleasure in her beauty but merely surveying herself objectively. Yes, she thought, she was as beautiful as many of the stars she watched at the Saturday matinee at the Bijou or at the evening shows Aunt Sarah accompanied her to. Why not be a movie star?
Later, though, she had other ideas. As she doodled on the pad of paper by the telephone she thought that she might become a great painter. She could almost see her works in some fabulous gallery in New York ... that most fabulous of cities ... see the beautifully dressed men and women who came to inspect them and to buy. And to admire her, too. They would understand her and appreciate her and she would become famous and possibly even rich.
Or maybe she would be a writer. Writers made lots of money. They sold their books to the movies and everyone knew about them and they became millionaires, almost.
People asked them to autograph their books. Other people... from big and important newspapers ... came to interview them. They were almost as famous as movie stars, at least some of them. Yes, she thought, she would be a writer. In any case, she would find some way to become rich and famous, to have everyone admire her, to be talked about the way Elizabeth Taylor was, or those wealthy society people everyone referred to as the "Jet Set" or the "Beautiful People".
And then her hopes were dashed as she faced the reality of everyday living. There was algebra to be done and Aunt Sarah to cope with.
She was especially upset about her aunt when she walked home from school. "Come straight home after school," was the rule and Carli never dared to linger, to stop with the other girls at the drugstore for a Coke. There were bound to be boys there, teasing and tormenting the girls, showing off but casting looks of approval and even lust Carli's way.
Sometimes one of them would stop her in the hall at school, trying to start a conversation. But Carli always managed to escape somehow, fleeing in embarrassed silence.
She knew only too well where such conversations would lead. The question others were inevitably asked, "What are you doing Saturday night?" And then, "Well, if you're not doing anything special, maybe you'd go to the movies with me?"
The lonely young girl would dearly have loved to go, to answer, "Why, yes, that would be great. Can you pick me up at eight?" But the mere thought of her aunt's beady eyes glaring at her, her face flushed with anger, her mouth hard and cruel, was enough to make her hurry on, hardly daring to speak. What would Aunt Sarah say if she learned she had been asked for a date?
Carli knew the answer to that only too well. "Boy crazy, that's what you are! Boy crazy!"
"But Aunt Sarah! Johnny only asked me to go to the movies with him."
"You're just like your mother. Boy crazy! Always running around after anything in pants. And you'd take your own down for any one of them, just the way she did." And so the young girl avoided boys and even more assiduously avoided speaking to her aunt about them.
But sometimes it was the unhappy old woman, her view of life soured by the unfair burdens she had borne, who brought up the subject. And usually, as Carli had learned, it came about after a bitter denunciation of her mother.
The girl had pieced the story together from what Aunt Sarah had told her. Oh, she had known long before, of course, that it was her father who had been that woman's adored younger brother, black sheep of the family though he'd been. And yet the older sister had managed to forgive him all the scrapes he seemed to get into--was there ever a day that someone hadn't stopped to complain about Eddie?--Either one of the neighbors or his teacher or even the cop on the beat?--she had managed to forgive him everything but his disastrous marriage.
It was not only that Alison, Carli's mother, was so very young and so very lovely; that in itself would have evoked an unsurpassed bitterness in the heart of the still unmarried Aunt Sarah. It was the very question of Carli's legitimacy!
Oh, true, she could have been a premature baby as Alison and Eddie insisted. But Aunt Sarah stubbornly refused to accept any such explanation. The handsome young couple had been "up to things they had no right to be doing" according to her. And she implied frequently that those "things" had taken place in the back of Eddie's car.
Whether they had or not, there was a tiny baby to be cared for and Aunt Sarah had been saddled with the job. She had grumbled incessantly about it but had accepted what was necessary.
At first she had merely taken over from Alison and Eddie, letting the two of them fret helplessly at being displaced. Later, when she had at last married Uncle Dan, it seemed she was willing to relinquish the care of the infant to her own parents. But a short time after there had been the accident and both Alison and Eddie had "gone to heaven" as Carli had been told.
A short while later, Uncle Dan had begun to go off on his long trips ... Carli had lisped innocently on one such occasion: "Has Uncle Dan gone to heaven too?" and had received a resounding slap in reply. But wherever he was, the kind and gentle person Carli had grown to love was hardly ever at home anymore and the child was left to the far from tender mercies of the gaunt and distraught woman.
One night as the young girl sat at the kitchen table, trying to unravel the mysteries of higher mathematics, her mind kept wandering to her encounter with Teddy Mathews in the front hallway of the high school. She had blushed at the way he had looked at her, his eyes roving up and down her generously curved young body until she could seem to feel his touch upon her although he stood a few feet away. Moreover, there had been an embarrassing bulge beneath his pants. And then he had approached and half-whispered, "How about going to the Prom with me next week?"
Suddenly it had seemed the most exciting thing in the world--going to the Prom, wearing a long dress and even flowers, drifting around the room in Teddy's arms while other boys tried desperately to cut in. But Carli knew it was only a dream and she shook her head and said, "I'm sorry, I can't."
She had started to walk away but Teddy had followed her, grabbing her elbow almost roughly. "Why can't you, Carli?" he asked impatiently. "Why?"
She shook her head. Because Aunt Sarah would never let her was the real answer. But she hadn't the courage to say that and so she merely yawned and said, "I'm so terribly busy these days, you know."
"Yeah? With what?"
"With lots of things."
"Such as ... ?"
"Well, you know I want to get into college."
"So ... ?"
"So I have to study."
"Oh, come off it, Carli. You can take time off to go to the Prom with me. You're not going to study all the time, are you?"
Carli had picked up her books and flounced off.-"Yes," she had said, "I guess I am."
Now she bent her head lower over the figures in the book. They seemed all squiggly to her, not even making as much sense as they usually did - which was pretty darn little, she thought.
But now they seemed to move and wiggle around, making her head ache. And then she heard Aunt Sarah's voice cutting through the fog and cotton batting in her brain. "Well," she asked, "what's bothering you?"
"Nothing, Aunt Sarah."
"You're just sitting there, making foolish marks on the paper. It's time you got down to work and did some serious studying, my girl."
"Yes ... yes, Aunt Sarah."
"Then do it!" the older woman glared and Carli's heart sank within her.
She leaned over her books but the symbols on the printed page made no more sense than before. She was uncomfortably aware of her aunt's presence and tried frantically to escape it by concentrating on her work. But the woman was there and a moment later her voice lashed out, "Your grades this last semester have been appalling, Carli."
"I got a 'B' in English," she protested.
"Yes, and you came close to failing algebra. And your French ..." the spiderish old woman shrugged as if to show that words failed her. Her facial muscles tightened and a look of sheer hatred passed across her features.
Now what? Carli wondered. There would certainly be a scene of some sort and almost inevitably it would somehow get back to the subject of boys. She gritted her teeth and bent her head over her paper, trying her best to concentrate. But the figures in front of her seemed to shake and sway and her head began to ache. And once again, as she had so often before, she felt a sense of desperation. What on earth could she do? And did it matter what she did? She shook her head, knowing that Aunt Sarah would never believe her if she told the truth and that no matter what happened she would think the worst of her. Well, in that case, what was there to lose? What?
Nothing, she thought, still hesitating, still righting back the impulse which welled up in her. And then at last she was overcome by it. "I haven't time for French," she said spitefully, biting off her words in hatred as much as in fear. She shrugged her shoulders now. What did she have to lose? She would be damned if she did and damned if she didn't! Suddenly she didn't care. All she wanted was to shock this awful woman who had haunted her days almost from the time she was born.
She bit her lip, wondering still if she dared to do what she had in mind. And then suddenly she summoned up her courage. "I'm tired of studying all the time," she announced, looking up and staring her aunt straight in the eye. "I'm tired of it."
"Oh, you are?"
"Yes, I am."
"And what do you think you're going to do about it?"
Carli felt a shiver of terror run up her spine. Then she said in a loud voice, full of false courage, "I'm going to shut these books, Aunt Sarah. And I'm going to have fun for a change!"
The older woman said nothing and Carli babbled on, "That's what I'm going to do. I'm tired of all this. I'm tired. I've had it... I want ..."
She sucked in her breath at the look on the other's face. Suddenly she knew she hadn't meant that ... she hadn't meant it at all. Couldn't Aunt Sarah understand that the outburst was a result of the strain she was under, the unbearable tension? Couldn't she understand that she was only human after all?
Obviously not!
Her aunt's thin lips curled and sputtered and she tried to find the words to express her anger. And yet somehow Carli was impelled to go on. In spite of the old woman's fury, in spite of the danger she herself courted, she was unable to stop. "I'm tired of all this," she said. She pushed her books away from her. "I want to go to the Prom, Aunt Sarah. And Teddy Mathews has asked me to go with him."
There was a long moment when the two stared at one another. And then it was Carli who gave in. She sighed deeply, knowing she was defeated even before her aunt's hand slashed across her face, leaving scarlet prints on her pale skin. In spite of herself she burst into tears, standing up and hoping to avoid another attack. But she wasn't quick enough and she felt the full force of her aunt's strength again.
She was sobbing desperately when she raced at last to her room, slammed the door behind her, and locked it. And then she undressed quickly and got into bed.
But sleep was impossible. She lay awake for a long time, wondering how she could please her aunt, how she could do better in studies. And then she knew that she really didn't care about that. She cared instead about Teddy Mathews and going to the Prom with him. She cared about wearing a long dress. She cared about having her hair done, about wearing a corsage of gardenias or even camelias. But all that was past now and she lay there on her bed, sobbing into her pillow.
The tears stopped at last and she began to think of just what it was that had upset Aunt Sarah. The bits and patterns began to fit together again and she saw it as her aunt must have seen it. The Prom at first... and then the aftermath ...
They would drive up to the lake, like everyone else. And then ... not like everyone else, but like her own mother and dad all those years ago.
He would have parked the car beneath one of the spreading branches of a pine tree where they would scarcely be seen but where little tears of moonlight would filter through, looking almost like fireflies, illuminating the darkness just enough. And then her father's hand would have slipped out to pull her mother, still a teenager, closer.
Carli was sure he would have offered her a drink, if they hadn't been drinking already. Why ... oh, why else ... would her mother have permitted him to do the things to her that the young girl was certain he had done, even after all these years, even if only in her imagination? But it wasn't her imagination, she told herself desperately. It wasn't. It had happened. And everyone had blamed her mother for it, just as somehow they still seemed to blame the daughter now. But what could Alison have done when Eddie pulled her close to him, when he pressed his thigh against hers and then let his hand fall to her knee before it inched up under her skirt?
Her mother would have been embarrassed. She would have tried to edge away before he reached out with a powerful hand to pin her lithe slim body against his own.
She must have felt excitement then as her firm rounded breasts brushed against him. She would have protested, too ... "We shouldn't be doing this!"
And what had her father answered? "Why not? You want it as much as I do, and you know it."
But still the girl... Carli, thinking of her mother, now saw in her mind's eye as almost identical to her own self, with a ripe young body quivering with expectancy, an almost elfin face framed by long blonde hair... still the girl would have protested. She might... oh, she must have ... tried to slip from the car and run away. But it had been hopeless and her father, still a teenager himself, excited beyond endurance by the alcohol he had consumed earlier and even by the marijuana it was likely that he had smoked--did they have marijuana then? - had become more and more insistent.
Even though young Alison might have managed to edge away from him briefly, he would have pulled her toward him again, twisting her around until her firm round breasts were again crushed against his chest, the small nipples hard and biting as steel points. He would have fastened his mouth on her moist warm lips and, although the frightened youngster would have resisted at first, she would at last have let her body go limp, let her lips slacken as his tongue darted forth to slip between them and slide against her tongue.
What thrills of unwanted pleasure must have surged through her then, how she must have tingled with the weird excitement that Carli herself craved. And then that excitement must have mounted, growing to an unbearable intensity as Eddie's tongue slid deeper and deeper up into her mouth until it seemed to touch the back of her throat.
He must have pulled her head down onto his shoulder then and cradled it there while he ran his hand through Alison's long thick hair. His other hand, Carli was certain, would have slipped along her throat and then down to her shoulders.
A moment later, in spite of her mother's attempts to jerk free of his clutch, his fingers would have insinuated themselves beneath the sheer fabric of the light summer dress she wore, and then he would have eased the tiny sleeves off her shoulders. Alison must have shivered, partly at the cool air that blew across her body, but partly in fright too. And her fright would have grown as Eddie slipped the narrow straps of her brassiere from her shoulders too.
And then there must have been that terrible but incredibly exciting moment when his hand trailed across each ripe young breast in turn, sending little tingling chills of horrified pleasure marching up and down her spine. Lying in her own bed--Carli had pulled on a thin nightgown, then pulled the covers over herself--she let her own fingers trail across the resilient mounds of her breasts while she gasped almost inaudibly at the guilty pleasure.
She wondered then if Eddie had let his head flick forward until his lips hovered just above her mother's hard tiny nipples, if he had fastened his mouth over them fleetingly before he began to tease at their berry-like ripeness.
And then another thought struck her, one so awful that she shivered beneath the bedclothes. Eddie - her own father - had used that awful word as he fondled the two white mounds of her mother's breasts. He had said ... he had actually said, "Fuck!"
Carli had seen it in books that she would never have dared let Aunt Sarah know she had read. She had seen it written on a wall once and had lowered her head, averting her eyes as she walked by. But the word had sent the same thrill through her flesh then that it did now.
Somehow as the excitement spread through her body it emboldened her. And now she could imagine the young man who was her father letting his hand snake along her mother's leg, along her thigh, stroking the sensitive skin there and then slipping it in beneath the elastic band of her flimsy white panties. He would have edged it along farther until it touched the tiny triangle of blonde hair there at the "vee" between her thighs.
At the thought, Carli's own hand slid beneath the hem of her short cotton nightgown and traced the contours of her slender thigh until at last it touched her own sparsely curled pubic hair. An electric excitement seized her, one sharper than she had ever felt before, and her body seemed to take fire. She felt as if flames were consuming her, the same sort that had consumed her mother that night so long ago when she had been unable to resist the young man with her.
She knew what the next step must have been for the poor young girl ... could almost see the moment when Eddie had slipped his hand behind Alison's back to fumble with the hooks of her already lowered brassiere until the bits of metal gave way at last and he had slipped the flimsy garment off, balling it and tossing it into the back seat of the car. And then ... and then ...
Carli hardly dared think of what had come next. But in her excitement, in her thrilled desire she let her own two fingers touch her moist little pussy cleft again, parting the crinkly pubic hairs to tease inside the tender virginal outer lips. The shock that ran through her as her hand grazed the sensitive furrowed flesh was of an incredible intensity and she moaned softly to herself at the great sudden pleasure.
Her hands moved swiftly now among the soft folds of her burning young pussy and in her ecstasy her toes curled and uncurled, her long legs tensed and then relaxed as her buttocks rocked from side to side against the mattress beneath her.
Oh, this was wrong, Carli thought! It was wicked and evil! She had a fleeting thought of her Aunt Sarah, a moment's fear of the woman's seething fury if she were to learn of what her niece was up to. But even the thought of the old woman could not restrain her stroking fingers and she -rubbed herself harder and harder, her middle finger sliding along her wet cunt-lips to find the tiny bud of her clitoris.
She began to tease at the tautly erect little member with her fingernail while the pleasure she felt mounted, rising to swell through her body, washing over her like a wave from the sea. And now she let her finger fall still lower to probe at her tight little vagina until her fingertip had at last worked its way up into her clasping cuntal recesses.
She moaned again, shutting her eyes tight and trying to imagine what else had happened that night up at the lake between the two young people who were to become her parents, that night when it was possible--probable even -that she herself had been conceived.
Surely--oh, surely--her mother would have protested at the lewd act taking place in the front seat of her boy friend's car. But like Carli herself, at this very moment, she would have been powerless to stop the obscene ravishment of her body which gave her such exquisite pleasure. And so she would have submitted weakly as Eddie slipped his hand beneath the waistband of her panties, clumsily yet determinedly pulling them down in spite of her anguished pleas to be left alone. And then he would have parted her soft smooth thighs to stroke at Alison's clitoris just as their daughter now stroked her own.
He would have plunged a finger in deep--oh, dear God! It felt so good! - turning and twisting it until she was close to screaming with the sheer delight of it. And then, while Alison prayed to herself that he would go on, all the time begging him not to because it was so wicked, he would have withdrawn his finger and quickly pulled off his own clothes, opening his fly with a telltale metallic sound, eagerly sloughing off his trousers and underpants.
Carli wondered if her mother had seen his turgid young cock as it sprang forth from his youthful loins, already hard, its blood-filled tip engorged with his passion. As the girl continued to dig her own finger deep into the warm moist channel of her convulsively pulsating pussy, she thought of Eddie parting her mother's cuntal lips to press deep up inside. The two must have rocked back and forth in their depravity, their bodies entwined as they clutched one another. And then at last the moment must have come when the young man could hold back no longer. He would have thrust deeper and deeper, arching back as he withdrew. And then at last the fresh young sperm that swirled in his bloated testicles must have shot forth to fill his girl friend's virginally clasping vagina until it pooled with Alison's own warm cum and seeped down between her thighs.
The thought - the vision of what had passed--seemed to send Carli completely out of her mind. She felt her own ecstatic feelings well up, taking over her entire being. And then she knew it was going to happen to her, that same incredible thing that had happened to her mother. She was going to cum too. Her breath was short and panting now as she moved her fingers in a frantically increasing rhythm, burrowing deep up into her little secret passage.
And then with a groan of anguished joy she felt the earth seem to open up beneath her as she was convulsed with a spasm of ultimate pleasure. Her body shook and her mind seemed to take leave of her earthly form in the sheer wonder of the moment.
It was over at last and she lay back, her strength sapped, her legs splaying out obscenely to the sides like those of a rag doll. She breathed heavily again, almost gasping for breath, reveling for an instant in her moment of happiness.
And then the terror came, rolling over her and almost engulfing her. The guilt came with it, the knowledge of the terrible thing she had just done that could never be undone. But most of all - most frightening - was the thought of Aunt Sarah.
The memories she had managed to repress for so long floated back into her consciousness and she was once again in the woodshed with the two small boys who had undressed her there so many years before. Once again they seemed to be pulling at her little panties, once again she seemed to be standing in front of them with her tiny hairless pussy exposed to their curious gaze. Just as she had then, she seemed to look up and see the cruel face of her aunt staring at her, the eyes glinting with malice and hatred and almost instinctively she shielded herself from a blow.
She began to tremble again, her whole body shaking, and it seemed inevitable that the old woman would burst through the door, somehow aware of what had occurred just a few minutes before there beneath the covers of Carli's bed, and whip her mercilessly, just as she had that other time. The young girl flinched, almost feeling the pain again. And then the tears came to her eyes and flowed freely down her cheeks. She was the most wicked of all creatures, she thought, the most evil, the most depraved. What hope was there for her in this life--or in the life hereafter? She was doomed, she knew, to eternal damnation.
The thought was almost too much to bear and she cast about for ways to save her damned soul. If she resolutely willed herself to forbearance in the future perhaps there would be a chance for her. If she never, never touched herself--and if she never let anyone else touch her--wouldn't there be some small chance? Oh yes, she thought. There must be! Somehow she would be forgiven!
With that in mind she vowed to live a life that would be pure and free of sin from that day on. She would never commit such wicked acts again. And she would push all evil thoughts from her mind.
She found comfort at last and with it came the sleep she craved. But even in her dreams it seemed that Aunt Sarah was there, threatening her like some omnipresent devil who would follow her to the ends of the earth to punish her for her sins.
CHAPTER THREE
Carli walked down the small town street in the bright sunlight, her short mini-skirt flapping in the wind. Looking at her one might have taken her for one of her students--she certainly looked little older than the fourteen year olds in her class. But her face showed the small signs of strain that came with her new job. Not that she was any less lovely than before--far from it. A few years had added a certain voluptuousness to her already lovely body and more than one man turned to stare as she walked by at her firm full thighs, her ripely undulating buttocks.
But Carli ignored them all and went on her way. The stunning blonde wasn't interested in men and never would be. Even as she walked along, the fears of them and what they might do to her welled up inside her. And with them came the fear of Aunt Sarah. Although she had managed to escape the older woman at last, by completing her teacher's training and moving to this remote rural town, the guilt remained.
What had happened came back to her over and over. And nothing would ever save her!
Carli again remembered her aunt and then shook her head resolutely. That was all nonsense. She was a grown woman now, capable of living her own life. She would put all the fears Aunt Sarah had instilled in her behind her and now - at long last - she would live like a normal woman. She'd been at her new teaching job in a new town for several weeks now, it was time she started letting go and being her own person, free of the negative influence of her embittered aunt.
Her thoughts floated back to the young man she had met just the other day. His name was Bill Hopper and he had waited on her when she had gone into the small shop which featured electrical wares, like mixers and blenders and toasters, but which also offered the services of an electrician who was willing to go around and inspect the lighting at her place which Carli was certain was about to blow up and set the entire house on fire.
It had turned out that Bill Hopper was the owner and sole employee of the shop. He had responded to her pleas for help almost immediately and then had stayed around for a cup of coffee. Before he left he had volunteered a great deal of information about himself.
To begin with, he was a bachelor. After that, he was obviously a successful businessman. And furthermore he was interested in Carli. While he twisted wires together he asked a number of questions about her and finally invited her to dinner.
At first Carli had been frightened. But then she had decided to accept. Why not? Things had changed, hadn't they? Wasn't she beyond the spell of her wicked petty Aunt Sarah? It was time she lived her own life, and that meant having dates, going out from time to time.
She finally accepted Bill's invitation, smiling happily to herself as she planned what she would wear. Her green jersey would do nicely, she thought--not too formal, but at the same time, not really the sort of thing anyone could say was indiscreet. And she would wear her brown coat with it - the colors were marvelous together -and the ridiculous hat she had bought when she first arrived here, her one extravagance. And then ... but she would wait until the moment came ...
When it did, she was ready. Her green jersey seemed to cling to her lush curves as if it had been created for her, showing off the fullness of her hips and thighs, hugging the firm undulating shape of her buttocks to outline them and accentuate their curves. And yet the dress was somehow very demure, chaste even, and the sight of herself in the mirror pleased Carli.
She was still standing before it, half-admiring herself, when the doorbell rang. She spun around, running her fingers nervously through her hair, then hurried off to answer the insistent sound.
Bill's eyes widened with pleasure at the sight of the lovely young teacher. It seemed to him a stroke of the best possible luck that she had been asked to come here to teach. Most of those chosen to instruct the town's young were dogs, he thought. Spinsters in their fifties or thereabouts. Or if they were younger there was definitely something wrong with them. Cross-eyed or so fat you couldn't get an arm around them. He sometimes wondered if the people on the school board ever looked at them before they were hired. Or maybe those old geezers just didn't care, although from what he'd heard about the private lives of some of them, that hardly seemed possible.
Well, it looked as if things had changed and there was no reason why he shouldn't take advantage of it. No reason at all. He glanced fleetingly at the ripe young mounds of Carli's breasts outlined beneath the jersey and sucked in his breath. She was lovely all right! Goddamn it! She was gorgeous.
"Hi," he said brightly. "You know, you look good enough to eat!"
For a moment Carli thought of answering with the stale old joke that went, "I do eat.
Where shall we have dinner?" But her strict upbringing warned her against anything that might seem rude - even when meant as a joke -and she blushingly said, "Hi, Bill. It's good to see you."
"Not half as good as it is to see you," the young man answered.
Carli's blush deepened and she stepped back inside the house. "Won't you come in?" she asked. "I'll be ready in just a minute."
"Sure." Bill followed her in, looking around the small living room to which she led him. The furniture was worn but comfortable--typical of furnished houses or apartments anywhere. But Carli had brightened the place with cheerful curtains and her laden book shelves added a note of color too.
"Nice place you've got here," Bill commented.
"It's cozy," Carli admitted. "And I was lucky to find it." She stood in front of the mirror now, setting the small hat on the back of her head and adjusting it with trembling fingers. Oh, darn, she thought! What's the matter with me?
There was no reason to be nervous about a date, was there? She shook her head, staring at the wide frightened eyes reflected in the mirror. No, there wasn't. And it was time she started going out with men. She took a deep breath and shifted the hat a little, then turned to give Bill her brightest smile. "I have to get my coat," she said, "and then I'm ready."
"Come on then," Bill said. He helped her slip the coat on, delighted that Carli wasn't one of those women who kept him waiting for hours. And then he led her out to his car and opened the door for her.
Once she was settled beside him Bill thought to ask, "Do you like Italian food?"
"Love it," Carli assured him.
"That's great. Because we've got one of the best places in the whole region just a few miles out of town."
"Really?" Carli asked, surprised that a town that seemed so drab in many ways should feature fine restaurants.
"That's right," Bill said enthusiastically. "You're in for a treat tonight." He started the car and headed out through the narrow streets beneath the now bare branches of the overhanging trees. In a few minutes they had turned onto the state highway and sped past the usual assortment of hamburger joints, fried chicken joints, and dismal bars with blinking neon signs. There was a long stretch then of empty fields that curiously depressed Carli. And then at last they reached a white frame building with a neon sign blazing: LA CUCINA.
"This is it," Bill said, turning the car into the driveway leading to the restaurant parking lot.
"La Cucina. Do you know what that means?"
Carli shook her head. "No," she said, ashamed of her own ignorance. "What does it mean?"
"The kitchen," Bill explained. "And wait until you taste the stuff that comes out of it."
He had eased the car into a parking space between a battered old Chevy and a brand new Eldorado. Looking at the two, Carli realized that the clientele of La Cucina included people from all walks of life. The food here must really be good, she thought as she slipped from the car and walked along beside Bill to the door.
He opened it and ushered her in with a half-mocking bow. "This way, please," he said. And then the headwaiter came to meet them and showed them to the table Bill had reserved, saying the same thing Bill had said: "This way, please."
Carli stared at Bill across the table top, lit by a red candle stuck into a straw-covered Chianti bottle. He was certainly handsome, with his regular features, his strong chin and firm but gentle mouth. The sputtering candle threw a strange light upon his face, casting a large and ominous shadow against the wall. But Carli chose to ignore that and see only the glowing warmth of his expression, the kindness in his eyes, the look of pleasure on his face.
When Bill ordered cocktails for them she drank hers slowly, as she was completely unused to alcohol. But it felt warm and good going down and her tense nerves relaxed, her nagging fears were dispelled. She agreed readily to his suggestion of scaloppini and spaghetti and happily toasted him with the red wine he poured into her glass from the bottle of Chianti he had ordered. She chatted with growing interest and excitement, amazed that the time passed so quickly. And then they were eating spumoni and drinking tiny cups of bitter black coffee with twists of lemon peel in it.
Carli's head had become light and begun to spin, and yet she was unable to refuse when Bill proposed a glass of Strega; It was magic he told her and would make all her dreams come true. And then, leaning across the table, he asked, "What are those dreams?"
Carli shook her head, unable to answer. She could think of nothing she wanted more in life than to sit here in this way, across the table from a charming young man who obviously enjoyed her company. It wasn't so frightening after all. It was fun!
She took another sip of the Strega, feeling the clouds float around her. Everything would be all right after all! The past was past and the future, as some wit had once said, lay ahead.
She cradled the glass in her two hands and stared at Bill Hopper across the table. All the wretchedness of her childhood seemed to slip away and she saw only the rosy beginnings of a new tomorrow. She had been desperate to leave Aunt Sarah but at the same time she had been frightened. And now she knew that everything would be all right.
She swallowed the rest of her drink and set her glass down on the red-checked tablecloth. A feeling of warmth, of bliss even, seemed to fill her. It was as if all her cares had somehow slipped away.
But when she got up to leave with Bill she seemed to have lost her sense of balance. "You're drunk," she told herself, remembering her aunt's strict injunctions against alcohol of any sort. Why, to Aunt Sarah, a cocktail was just as evil as sex and here Carli had been drinking not only cocktails but wine and liqueur. And it made her feel so good! The slight queasiness she had felt at first had disappeared and now she knew only the pleasures of the almost complete relaxation that alcohol could induce.
The young couple said little to one another on the drive home. Carli stared out the window, wondering at the seeming nearness of the stars, at their amazing brightness as they sparkled in the cold night air. Bill whistled softly to himself, as much at ease as the young teacher. When he pulled up in front of her small house, the two waited a moment, saying nothing.
And then, still saying nothing - for what was there to say? - Carli got out of the car and started up the walk, followed by Bill.
She fumbled for her keys, wondering whether or not to invite her date in for a "nightcap" from the bottle of brandy she had purchased almost surreptitiously, feeling very wicked as she had done so, but had never had the courage to open, let alone taste. Surely, she told herself, it couldn't hurt to ask him in. It was even a gracious way to thank him for the wonderful time she'd had.
She opened the door, pushing it slightly ajar, then turned to invite Bill in. But once again she found that words were superfluous; he had already stepped inside the door.
She led him to the living room and this time managed to invite him to sit down, her words stammered and halting. And then, looking around, she took a deep breath. Everything was all right, she reassured herself. Absolutely all right. The room seemed even warmer than when she had left it, more personal, more friendly. And that was just the way she wanted it to be because that was just what she wanted to be herself. Friendly!
Bill was looking at the tipsy blonde again with unfeigned and undisguised admiration. She blushed a little at his attention but brushed aside the first flutter of fear that arose in her. And then she asked, "Would you like a nightcap? A drink?" she added as if he might not have understood the more sophisticated term.
"Sure," Bill said. "What have you got?"
For a moment Carli was tongue-tied with embarrassment. Nothing but brandy, she thought. How could she explain that! She shrugged. There was no explanation and all she could do was tell the truth. "I'm afraid all I have is brandy," she said. "Is that all right?" There was a note of anxiety in her voice, a puzzled, almost frightened expression in her eyes.
"Brandy's great," Bill said. "How did you know I liked it?"
The young woman sighed with relief. Everything was all right, she thought with amazement. She'd never dated before, never dared to, and now here she was with a man who seemed more sophisticated than any she had ever known, and she was doing and saying all the right things. She gave him a dazzling smile and hurried to the kitchen, rummaging around the top shelf until she found the bottle of brandy hidden behind the sugar and flour.
She pulled it out and read the label - it was in French which seemed very impressive--and then twisted the top to open it. She leaned over to smell it, wondering if she should taste it before she offered it to Bill. But it smelled all right - a little strong but otherwise all right -and she decided that it wouldn't be necessary.
She had a moment of panic while she looked for the proper glasses in which to serve the brandy, remembering a movie in which a butler had passed around fat round ones that were called "snifters". And then she remembered another movie in which champagne had been served with the utmost nonchalance in a bathroom tumbler. Well, that was the way she'd have to do things -nonchalantly.
She got out a couple of glasses that had held peanut butter, put them on a Mexican tray she had picked up in a thrift shop, loaded the brandy onto it and carried it into the next room just a little apprehensively. But Bill Hopper's warm smile told her that what she was doing was just exactly right. And so she smiled back at him as she set the tray on the small table before the sofa, then poured a drink for each of them.
Carli had a moment's hesitation, a moment's doubt as to whether or not she should take another drink. And then, throwing caution to the winds, she picked up one of the glasses and held it out to the one her escort had already picked up. "Cheers," she said as they clinked merrily. And then she lifted it to her lips and swallowed a bit of the potent amber liquid.
"Gee, this is great," Bill said, looking around the room, then leaning back against the couch, relaxing. "And so are you," he added.
Carli smiled, not knowing quite what to answer. And then as Bill reached out to her and pulled her down on the couch beside him, she realized that no answer was needed.
His arm went around her waist and he pulled her closer, taking her glass away from her and setting it down on the tray beside his own glass which he had already put down, then tilting her head up to his while he flicked his own forward.
Suddenly he crushed his lips to hers so hard it almost hurt, and then his tongue shot out to probe against their soft moistness and then to slide deep up into the warm cavern of her mouth.
As his tongue touched her own, she felt a little thrill of excitement stronger than she had ever known race through her. His tongue slid back, deeper and deeper until it seemed that it would brush against her very throat, and once again Carli felt the excitement mount. It sent a new and surprising warmth through her, setting her blood on fire, and yet there were little icicles that formed along her spine. She shivered with pleasure and relaxed, giving herself up to the joy of the moment, closing her eyes, knowing nothing else.
As Bill pulled her closer, Carli sank down onto the couch, turning toward him, her proud pointed breasts crushed against his chest. She gasped in pleasure and leaned her head on his shoulders. And then she felt his hand as it slid beneath the lacy softness of her brassiere and began to stroke the delicate skin of one ripe breast. Once again she felt the almost unbearable excitement, felt her body thrill to the soft and steady rhythm of his fingers, and she began to moan quietly, almost inaudibly.
She was hardly aware of the moment when Bill pulled the zipper down the length of the green jersey dress, no more aware when he eased it off her shoulders and let it fall down around her hips.
She felt his fingers then as he fumbled with the fastening of her brassiere and it seemed to her that she had experienced all this before. She tried desperately to remember where and when it had happened through the haze of pleasure that enveloped her, through the joy the drinks she had consumed had sent pulsating through her quaking body. For a moment she felt a loss of her own self, and a gaining of a new identity - that of her mother, Alison - and it seemed that that was where all this had occurred, there in the car the night she was sure she had been conceived. And she began to feel the same ecstasy her mother must have felt at that moment...
Suddenly she drew back from Bill's teasing fingers. Oh, dear God, she thought. Oh, dear God! She was filled with fear again, filled with fear of Aunt Sarah and filled with shame and humiliation at the same time. Scalding tears sprang to her eyes and flowed down her cheeks and she let her head sink into her hands as the visions of brimstone and fire that her aunt had predicted as her lot in life, or in the afterlife, came to mind.
And then she could stand the torment no longer. She wanted this expression of affection - of love, even--more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. But her terror was too great. She would never be able to accept it. "Please," she whispered. "Please, Bill."
His answer was to cup one throbbing naked breast in a huge hand, to knead and squeeze it until Carli thought she would go out of her mind. Once again she tried to break free, but Bill was too strong for her and she found herself locked against him as he again grasped the snowy mound of one of her breasts in his hand, squeezing it lustfully. And then his thumb and forefinger circled the tiny bud of one turgidly sensitive nipple, coaxing it into a stiff little erection. She realized that Bill had long ago torn off her brassiere--had it been this way with Alison and Eddie? - and that she was nakedly exposed to the young man. She realized too that his head had flicked forward again and that he had fastened his mouth over the little throbbing bud, that he had taken the rubbery nodule between his teeth and that he was sucking on it as if it were some strange and exotic fruit, determined to extract the last drop of sweetness from it.
She moaned lightly, torn between the extremes of pleasure and overwhelming guilt. Oh, dear God! She wanted him to do this to her - she really did! But at the same time her fear of the terrible consequences she would be subjected to sent terror creeping through her veins.
Trembling, the frightened teacher tried to push the excited young man away from her. But she was no match for him and she felt herself pulled closer and closer as if she were being sucked into the vortex of a whirlpool. Now his hands were running up and down her thighs, beneath the dress that still covered them, inching up to the bit of super-sensitive flesh above the tops of her stockings.
Carli moaned again and managed to beg, "No, Bill! No!"
"Why not?"
A shudder ran through the terror-stricken woman. "It isn't right," she said at last. "It isn't right. It's wrong!"
"No one will know," he answered lightly.
"I will," Carli said. And God would, too -and somehow she was sure that Aunt Sarah would. "Oh, it's wrong," she said, whispering now. "We mustn't."
But Bill showed no inclination to stop the tender stroking of her alabaster skin which sent a full measure of pleasure bounding through his own veins. Christ! He hadn't seen anyone as voluptuous as this in years--and he'd certainly never seen anyone like her in this one-horse town!
He ran his hand along the smooth stretch of quivering thigh once more, pausing to caress the particularly sensitive inner surface, then inching on to pluck at the narrow band of her panties. Carli gasped as his finger slipped beneath the crotch band, moving slowly but surely upward until it grazed against the strands of silken pubic hair that nestled in the "vee" between her thighs.
For a moment she was petrified with fear, too frightened even to protest. And then her terrified words seemed to split the silence of the room. "Oh, don't, Bill. Please! Don't!"
"What's the matter, honey? You never played around before?" Bill laughed, obviously certain that she had.
But Carli shook her head, trying now to edge away from him. Her heart flailed against her ribs and she breathed heavily--oh, dear God! It must have been like this with her mother and father on that night that seemed to sear across her brain as if she had been a participant in it. Surely she must be the only woman her age on earth who had never permitted a young man to caress her this way.
Why? she wondered, wishing with every fiber of her being that she could enjoy this moment. And yet the sheet wickedness of it prevented her from giving in to the pleasure that she felt, to the desire to be possessed that welled lewdly up from the depths of her being. "Oh, please," she begged again. But Bill ignored the anguish in her tone. "Come on," he said brusquely. "You love it. You know you do."
"No ... o . . o . o . o . " Carli moaned as she felt his finger part the soft strands of pubic hair there between her thighs and stroke the soft moist flesh of her cuntal lips. The contact sent little shocks of excitement running through her which only added to her confusion. For a moment she relaxed again, reveling in the obscene joy that possessed her. And then the joy turned to bitterness and she pressed her legs tightly together, trying to prevent this lewd ravishment.
The act maddened Bill and Carli, even in the dim light, saw the fury in his eyes that seemed to narrow into slits. "Now what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked her roughly. "For God's sake, Carli ..."
But once again she began to plead with him, her lips quivering now, her eyes welling with unshed tears. "Please, Bill... please ..."
"Aw, come off it, Carli. You're a big girl now. Aren't you?"
The words stung the young teacher. "Of course I am," she almost spat at him. "Of course."
"Then act like one." Bill was cool and collected and scornful as well.
But Carli could think only of the terrible things that had happened to her as a child--could think only of Aunt Sarah--of the way she had been whipped for something so much more innocent than this--could only think of her mother, Alison, and the shame that had befallen her. Oh, God! If she could only get away from here! She felt that she must run and hide somewhere and then, too late, realized that it was she who had invited Bill in, that this was what she now called home and that it would be impossible for her to get up, pull her clothes back on, and escape through the front door, fleeing into the night. As for hiding, she remembered a Gospel song that Aunt Sarah had liked to chant, something about "No Hiding Place Down Here."
Well, there was no hiding place in the small house and there was nothing Carli could do but appeal to whatever sense of decency this guest of hers might have. It obviously wasn't much, she told herself ruefully. But at least it was worth a try.
She managed to wrench free of his grasp, pulling her dress up over her shoulders now to hide her near-nakedness, smoothing the skirt over her knees. "Bill," she said with false brightness, ''you know we mustn't... mustn't..." her voice trailed off.
"Mustn't what, Carli?"
She found it impossible to spell out in so many words just what it was that they mustn't do. "Mustn't lose our heads," she said at last.
Bill let out a burst of raucous laughter. "Know that old song that goes 'When Knighthood was in Flower and Maidens Lost their Heads'?" he asked.
Carli shook her head, too innocent to understand at first. And then she realized that Bill was joking about the loss of a girl's virginity and she wondered how on earth she could have let herself be beguiled into asking him into her home.
The innocent teacher felt herself blushing again, which seemed to amuse Bill even more than his off-color joke. And then he became angry once more, tearing Carli's dress away from her throat, pulling it down to her waist again. Now he slid his hand beneath her, lifting her up as he maneuvered her skirt down beneath her buttocks, pulling it off at last.
Again terror-stricken, the trembling young blonde tried to cover herself with her hands. But that, too, was useless and she sat beside Bill now clad only in her flimsy nylon panties and her stockings.
He pulled the stockings off and then his hand reached for one throbbing breast again, stroking the tender mound slowly, maddeningly, then cupping it to knead it brutally. Carli flexed beneath the relentless assault, arching backward as he grasped one tiny throbbing nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking it until she almost screamed with pain. At the same time, he parted her close-pressed thighs, then slipped his hand beneath her panties to tease again at the light sprinkling of hair nestled there at the base of her belly.
In spite of everything she felt the seep of moisture that began to trickle between her thighs and clenched them tighter together as if she could put an end to it. And then she felt Bill's middle finger push aside the soft curls of her pubic hair to thrust forward again, running along her fleshy cuntal lips and up into her vagina while she sucked in her breath in embarrassed agony.
Oh, no, she thought! Oh, no! If only she could make him stop! If only ... if only ...
But there seemed to be nothing she could do now but to submit to this obscene ravaging of her quivering virginal cunt. And now a moan escaped her half-parted lips as Bill began to turn and twist his probing finger, teasing around up inside the warm channel of her moist passage, expanding the tight little hole with each rotation.
Then Bill withdrew his finger abruptly with a soft sucking sound from the small tight opening and reached up to slip his hand beneath the elastic waistband of her panties. In spite of Carli's heartfelt protests he went on, ignoring her pleading, her tears even, her promises of what she would do for him, give to him, if he would only leave her alone now. He tugged at the sheer band of cloth that formed the waistband, stretching it until the elastic snapped. And then he slid his hand beneath her quivering ass-cheeks just as he had before, lifting them from the couch to slide the fragile nylon panties down beneath them, over her thighs and the length of her slim legs.
Carli jerked back convulsively as a ripple of cool air wafted across her naked body and her hands shot to her head, covering her face. God in Heaven, she thought. What would he do now? And then a shudder of absolute horror passed through her as she realized only too well what that would be.
His middle finger was already seeking the glistening orifice between her legs again, teasing at the sparsely growing hair then curling into the moistly displayed slit between her thighs. He began to stroke the throbbing little bud of her clitoris, sending moans of unwanted passion darting through the frightened reluctant teacher's body.
Once more he parted the pink fleshy lips of her moist vaginal entrance, once more his finger burrowed deep into it as she squirmed at the lewd and lascivious impalement.
And then Carli heard a harsh metallic sound which she recognized at last as that of a zipper being pulled down. She shuddered at the knowledge that Bill was opening his fly, and then she felt the hard, blood-engorged rod of his penis burst forth to press against her soft vulnerable nakedness.
"Oh, God," she begged suddenly, her voice overcome with trembling emotion. "Oh, dear, dear God! Don't! Don't do it, Bill. Don't do it to me!"
The voice that answered her was cruel and scornful, the expression on the young man's face sneering. "Don't do what, Carli?" he demanded.
"Don't do it," Carli begged, almost hysterical now. "Don't do it!"
"Don't do what? Tell me ... "
"Oh, Lord," Carli moaned as the true meaning of his words sank into her drink-benumbed consciousness. "Oh, Lord!" She offered up a silent prayer, begging to be spared the shame and humiliation inevitably in store for her.
But her supplications were useless. "Tell me," the fearful virgin heard Bill ask in a voice filled with a cruelty she never would have suspected her new acquaintance of having. "Tell me."
"Don't!" was all Carli could say.
And then she felt the sharp sting of his hand across her face ... oh, dear God, it was like Aunt Sarah so long ago ... and she knew that she would comply with whatever evil and degrading demands he might make on her. "Say it!"
"Say what?" Carli was stalling for time, trying desperately to avoid facing the issue, to avoid speaking the unspeakable words that she had heard--and rejected--as a child.
But Bill slapped her again and her terror now knew no bounds. She would do whatever Bill demanded, she thought. And then she knew that that wasn't true. She would say whatever he insisted she say, but as for doing it, he would have to use all his force to compel her. Not that he wouldn't! But she blotted that out of her drink-fogged mind for the moment and concentrated on what was at hand. He was asking her to say something and she lifted questioning eyes to his. The young man's bored into her coldly, like bits of steel. And then she knew she had to say it. "Fuck me," she whispered, the very sound of her voice sending shivers of fear through her. "Fuck me, Bill."
"That's more like it, kid," Bill crowed triumphantly. "But let's hear it a little louder. Okay?"
"Okay," she managed to whisper, trying to hide her face. But she seemed to be mesmerized by the sight of him, seemed to be drawn back to look at him as though by a magnet. There was a twist to his mouth she had never noticed before, one which implied a lack of all sensibility, and once again she was terrified. She would do whatever he asked - oh, dear God! she would. "Fuck me," she said now in a loud clear voice, not caring what the words meant, knowing only that she had to spew them forth, let them reverberate on the cool quiet air. "Fuck me! Fuck me! FUCK ME!" She scarcely recognized her own voice, scarcely knew what she was doing. And she had no conscious idea whatsoever that Bill would actually understand the words - and then do what she seemed to ask.
But his coolly sneering voice fell upon her ears. "Sure," he said. "Love to."
Suddenly she felt him grasp her ankles and swing her legs up onto the couch. And then he was peeling off his own clothes, his dark blue slacks, his white cotton shorts, and kneeling over her.
He spread her legs wide now until Carli fighting against his relentless assault let out a little gasp of pain. She closed her eyes and there was one blissful moment when it seemed that everything would stop and none of this would happen. But she opened them again and knew at once that it was all too true.
Bill's thick rigid cock had sprung forward, standing out stiff and menacing from his loins. Oh, God, she thought as she glanced briefly and with anguished embarrassment at its distended hardness. It was so big! So big! And he would try to ... oh, God! The terrified young virgin couldn't even think about it. But she was certain that he would kill her--that he would split her wide open as he entered her, as he sent that pulsing rigid penis plowing deep up into her cuntal passage.
Lying defenseless on the couch, she tried to blot out those thoughts too as she saw him grasp his thick cock in his hand and guide it down toward her pulsating cuntal lips. She heard him groan and then she realized that his widespread hands were on her thighs, holding them apart while his thumbs pressed on the fleshy edges of her cunt, opening it wider and wider.
She stared at Bill, mesmerized by the very size of the penis that was slowly and teasingly zeroing in on her tight little cuntal entrance. He found it at last and prodded his lewdly swollen cock against the velvety lips of her cunt and then began to move into the narrow moistness of her clasping pussy channel. She felt the tight elastic ring that guarded her most secret part stretch unbearably before it at last gave way before the man's maddened assault. And then Bill's relentless thick shaft was burrowing deep up into her hotly throbbing virginal cunt.
"Aaagh ... Pleeeea-se," Carli moaned and ground her buttocks deep into the couch beneath her in a vain attempt to escape Bill's cruel impalement. But his driving penis seemed to spear into her like an unsheathed sword, cutting deeper and deeper while she moaned out her helpless agony. At last he had sunk his burgeoning cock into her never-before-used vagina all the way up to the hilt.
She was pinioned now beneath Bill Hopper as he ground his pelvis into her squirming defenseless loins, then began a merciless lunging in and out of her like some machine gone out of control. He could think of nothing but the obscene excitement of taking this beautiful young woman, of possessing her in this brutal way. Damn it all! She'd asked for it, hadn't she? Inviting him in, leading him on that way. Then suddenly playing hard to get! She probably did it all the time and he for one wasn't going to take it from her!
Christ! So what if he was raping her! It served her right, that was the way he saw it. Damn little cock teaser!
The excitement in his loins was building -Jesus! He felt as if he was on fire! The ache in his balls was driving him out of his mind, the pressure so intense he thought they would burst. Jesus! He had to cum and to cum soon, had to squirt his load of boiling sperm deep up inside her quivering belly. He arched back, almost withdrawing his thick rampaging cock, then rammed it forward with all his strength until it sank in so far his bloated cock-head scraped her cervix.
Carli let out a muffled moan that seemed to encompass all the agony of betrayed womanhood. And then she began to whimper out her fear, still begging but without hope. "Oh, no, Bill ... nooooooo ... !"
But there was no stopping the enraged, excited man. His fury at the young teacher's denial had turned him into little more than a beast and now he sawed in and out, his rock-hard penis plowing her moistly billowing cuntal walls before it until it seemed his gland was going to penetrate all the way to her throat.
He locked his mouth to hers, mashing her firmly rounded breasts against his chest while at the same time he pushed her shoulders back. And even as she squirmed insanely against this vicious ravishing of her lithe young body he forced his hands beneath her quivering ass-cheeks, pulling her up to meet his pile driving thrusts while his testicles slapped obscenely against the wide-split crevice of her buttocks.
Pinned down as she was against the sofa, Carli could only wail pitifully, closing her eyes as if to shut out the sight of her own violation. Tears slipped beneath her eyelids and coursed in scalding streams down her pale cheeks. He would kill her, she was sure of that. He would kill her!
She wailed again as she felt his burgeoning rod ram deep up into her again, sliding up and down her inflamed cuntal passage agonizingly while his testicles now beat against her inner thighs. And then she heard his sharp, animal-like cry as his churning sperm burst forth from his bloated balls to shoot the length of his pulsating cock and then spill forth deep up inside her quivering womb. He continued to pump them dry until at last he gave a final lurch, a final bestial cry, and collapsed over her bruised and battered body.
He lay there a long time before he finally withdrew his now limp and deflated penis, rolled over, and stood up. A moment later he was casually pulling on his clothes, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.
Carli lay still on the couch, her soul filled with self-loathing at the irreversible shame and humiliation that had just been inflicted on her.
She watched her satiated companion wordlessly, her eyes filled half with hatred, half with pain. And then she twisted her head around to watch him as he stalked from the room. She heard the slam of the front door as he let himself out, heard further footsteps as he went down the stairs and along the walk to his car. And at last she heard the slam of the car door, the sound of the motor turning over.
Still Carli had no desire, no strength even, to move. She lay trembling on the couch while her thoughts flew back and forth from the present to the past. She remembered the little boys who had undressed her that day so long ago, who had probed and prodded at the tiny slit of her little pink pussy. And she remembered Aunt Sarah's wrath.
She sighed deeply as a shudder ran through her whole body. She hated men, she thought. She really hated men.
CHAPTER FOUR
By the time Carli arrived at school, she had managed to put most of the insidious horror behind her. Her body was still wracked with pain, but the mental anguish had diminished until she was able to concentrate on the work that she had to do. And for that she was thankful to whatever God there might be.
The abused blonde rapped on the desk to bring the class to order and her eye roved over the rows of students sitting attentively at their desks. They were a bright lot, she told herself, and she could devote her time and talents to encouraging them, to imparting to them the knowledge that she herself had gained. And if she could give them a little wisdom, too - well, so much the better.
Fourteen was an important age and she was pleased again that she had been trained to teach the ninth grade where most of her pupils were just that old. She looked at them again - at the young girls in their tight sweaters and their short, short mini-skirts, at the boys in their Levi's. No longer children, and yet still not adults. They were at their most impressionable stage of development and it was up to her to guide them. She felt the tremendous responsibility that she must bear for these students of hers, then squared her shoulders. Well, she would accept it. She would do her best and even more. And in that way she would fulfill herself. She would, in fact, give herself to them, atoning for her own sins by devoting her life to their betterment. It was a noble idea and it made her happy.
She thought of the many things she could do for these youngsters--extra help for those who were behind in their school work, the understanding ear and the understanding heart for those with problems who might seek her help. Yes, there was a great deal she could do to live a full and useful life - and to make up for all the wickedness and evil she had already committed. She smiled to herself and called the class to order again.
She was pleased to find that most of the boys and girls had done their homework well and could answer the questions that she posed. As to the questions that they themselves asked - well, she had to be on her toes to answer them. But it was an encouraging sign, she thought. She had heard so much about modern kids - into drugs at an early age and some with the morals of an alley cat--and it made her happy to see that all those who disparaged them were so wrong. They were healthy, happy kids and she was lucky to be working with them.
They were good-looking kids, too. She glanced up from her desk and her eye chanced to light on young Alan Forbes sitting near the back of the room. Why, he had the cherubic expression of one of those angels in an early Italian painting she had seen in those huge art books people always seemed to give her for Christmas. His hair was longer than that of the other boys, and yet it was neat and tidy. He wore Levi's like the other kids, but his sweater was obviously expensive. And there was an air about him--Carli couldn't quite define it--but an air that aroused all her sympathies. She would devote as much attention to Alan Forbes as possible, she decided. That is, of course, without forcing her attentions upon him.
By the end of the school day she realized that it would be quite possible when young Alan stepped up to her desk and said, "I wonder if you would have a little time to help me with this arithmetic problem, Miss Mills? I just can't seem to make any sense out of it."
"Why, of course," Carli said, smiling brightly. "I'd be happy to."
She glanced up at the clock and Alan followed her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quickly.
"I didn't mean to keep you."
"That's all right," Carli said. "That's quite all right, Alan."
"But, gee, Miss Mills. Maybe you have something important to do."
"Nothing more important than helping you out of whatever difficulty you might be in," the young teacher said, meaning every word of it.
Alan smiled, his strong yet gentle mouth curling back over a row of perfect teeth. What a sweet child, Carli thought. What a sweet and lovely boy!
She nodded toward a chair, inviting him to pull it close and sit down. And then she took the book he held out to her, staring at the particular problem he pointed out. "Oh, but that's easy, Alan," she said with a cheerful little laugh. "That's just what we were studying today."
"It was?" he asked, looking amazed. "Gee, I guess I just didn't get the drift of it at all."
"Well now, look here. It's all a matter of extracting the square root - like this." She pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil from the drawer of her desk and hastily scribbled a few figures. "Now here," she said, pointing to one row of them, "you have to begin by dividing these--four goes into twenty-eight how many times ... ?"
"Six," Alan said quickly. And then at Carli's surprised expression he quickly amended it to "seven?"
"Seven," Carli said. "That's right. Seven."
"And then ..." Carli quickly scribbled a few more numbers, added certain ones together, subtracted others, explaining every step of the way. When she finally had the answer she looked up at young Alan triumphantly. "There," she said. "See."
"Oh, yes. Yes, I understand now, Miss Mills."
"And you see how simple it is, once you understand the principle of it?"
"Yes. Yes, I do," the boy said.
"Good. Now let's see if you can work out another problem ... a similar one ... all by yourself." She quickly wrote it out, then handed him the paper and pencil, peering over his shoulder as he worked. Once in awhile she stopped him to correct some obvious mistake--"Eight times nine is sixty-two ..."
"Seventy-two ..."
"Seventy-two. And then ..."
Very quickly Alan worked out the problem and Carli was elated. He'd understood everything, she told herself. And then a slight frown furrowed her lovely forehead. Perhaps this was just an excuse to stay late ...
She shook her head. No, that couldn't be. Alan would never do such a thing. He was young and decent. An older man might have deceived her in this way, but not an innocent child like Alan. She shook her head again as if to rid herself of the evil thoughts that had so suddenly entered it.
But the idea persisted, growing, taking on new dimensions. Alan was different, there was no doubt about that. He would never hurt her.
She suddenly felt an obscene longing for him, felt a little prickle of delight run through her at the very idea of being in the arms of the young boy. He would never hurt her!
Involuntarily she cast a quick glance down there between his legs and saw the slight bulge beneath his tight jeans. Oh, dear God! What was she doing, staring so lewdly at him? She looked quickly away and yet the idea of the slender young penis hidden there beneath the straining cloth remained with her, obsessing her.
She couldn't sit here much longer opposite the young boy letting herself get carried away in this manner. She was a grown woman and Alan was a mere child. Only an evil and perverted creature could think the thought that had somehow seeped into her mind. And surely she was better than that!
All her good resolutions came back to her--her decision to devote herself to fine and ennobling works--and she pushed aside all other ideas. Even so she could no longer trust herself to sit here calmly talking to the lovely young boy. It would be better for both of them, she knew most definitely, if they were to go their separate ways and at once.
She looked up at the clock, then seemed to catch her breath in surprise. "Good heavens," she said, her voice sounding tight and a little phony even to her own ears. "Good heavens, it's so late. I had no idea it was so late. Did you, Alan?"
The young boy with the cherubic face shook his head and a little dart of pleasure shot through Carli's loins. He's so beautiful, she thought. So beautiful! Just like one of those paintings. He'd enjoyed being with her, she told herself. She'd known it all along. He'd enjoyed being with her so much that he hadn't even noticed the passage of time. That thought would give her pleasure during the long lonely night to come. Her thoughts shot forward to it and she had a sudden longing to invite this young and lovely student home with her, to caress him and fondle him.
And then a jolt of horror ran through her. Would she actually molest a child?
Of course not. She was tired, that was all. She put her hands to her head, then sighed heavily. Alan's eyes flew to her face. "Gee, Miss Mills," he said. "Are you sick or something?"
Carli shook her head and smiled at the boy. Perhaps, she told herself. Perhaps she was. Why else should she have such wicked and evil thoughts. But if she was sick, it certainly wasn't physically, as Alan thought. It was some strange perverted disease of the mind or soul that troubled her so. She remembered Aunt Sarah's strict interpretation of the Scriptures and thought for a moment that she had been possessed by the Devil himself.
But she had long before ceased to believe in such things and she knew that the evil was within herself, the Devil was of her own making. Ridding herself of his hold on her was only a matter of her own will power and now was the time to summon forth every bit of it she possessed.
She managed a smile for Alan and then spoke to him softly. "I'd forgotten that I had an appointment this afternoon. You'll have to excuse me."
"An appointment?" Alan asked, clearly not believing her.
"Why yes," she said. "I was planning to have my hair done." She felt a moment's panic as she realized that her lie would be found out if she arrived at school the next day without having gone to the hairdresser's - with her long blonde hair hanging straight around her shoulders instead of glamorously waved as it would be after she'd spent an hour or so beneath the dryer. And what if she couldn't get an appointment now? What if she came to school the next day looking just as she did now? Well, she would have to try to get her hair done. And if she couldn't - if the Bon Ton Beauty Parlor was all booked up - then she would have to do her hair herself.
She shivered as if she had just escaped some terrible fate and rose from her chair. "I'm afraid I have to go, Alan. You know how it is ... " she gestured with her hand as if to show him, although from the look of disappointment on his face it was obvious that he knew no such thing "...don't you?"
"I guess so," he said in a puzzled voice.
"I knew you'd understand," Carli said. She smiled at the youth again, waiting for him to leave so she could go to the teacher's lounge, slip into her coat and hurry away before the strangely confused feelings that enveloped her made her change her mind. The boy stepped forward, then stopped to hold the door for his teacher, confusing her even more. He was a perfect little gentleman, she thought, kind and considerate.
In spite of herself the impressed school teacher compared him to the bestial Bill Hopper. If only it had been Alan there with her the other night, she caught herself thinking, and then blushed at the idea. It was time for her to get hold of herself, to stop thinking such things, to act like the mature woman she considered herself to be. A wave of disgust swept through her. What on earth was the matter with her?
She followed Alan out the door and said good-bye to him in front of the teacher's lounge. Once inside with the door safely closed behind her, she sat down to catch her breath, amazed that she was so agitated. Why on earth had this young boy upset her in this way? What had he said? Had he looked at her in some suggestive way? She shook her head. No, it was nothing that he had done. Then why?
Carli shook her head again. She didn't know, she thought. She just didn't know.
She waited until she was certain that Alan had left the building before she went out, crossed the parking lot, and climbed into her little blue Mustang. She drove off, heading toward her own house before she remembered what she had said about the hairdresser. She muttered a soft "darn it all," at the thought of wasting another few hours there reading movie magazines. And then she turned the car around and drove to the Bon Ton Beauty Salon.
The next day passed uneventfully, with Carli cool and collected when she faced her students. She noticed that Alan gave her a strange look when he passed her, but managed to dismiss it although she was haunted by it that night. But the day after, the young student once again approached the teacher's desk at the end of class. "You got a hairdresser's appointment later, Miss Mills?" he asked.
Carli shook her head. "Heavens no," she said. "I only go every other week or so, you know."
"Dentist's appointment, maybe?"
"No. Why?" This time she laughed.
"Just wondering," Alan said casually. "Doctor?"
"No. Do I look sick or something?"
The boy shook his head. "You look just great to me," he said, letting his eyes rest on the ripe mounds of her breasts outlined beneath her sweater. "Just great."
Carli caught her breath, biting her lip in a moment of anger. This sweet youngster was acting like any other man, she thought. And then she almost laughed aloud at the idea. How could he? With that innocent face of his? The inner radiance that seemed to light it up. He was almost angelic in appearance, and he had the disposition to go with it, too. Once again the thought occurred to her that he would never hurt her as an older man almost certainly would, and again she felt little chills of excitement race through her at the half-suppressed thought of being possessed by this youth. She conjured up a vision of his slender young penis probing the length of her own fleshy cuntal lips, seeking out the glistening entrance to her vagina, then sinking in to fill her with the greatest imaginable pleasure.
Suddenly her hand flew to her mouth in horror! Oh, God! What was she thinking of! What put such ideas into her head? She remembered Aunt Sarah's constant reiteration of "You're an evil girl, Carli. An evil, wicked girl. And mark my words, God will punish you!"
She was evil, she thought. Aunt Sarah was right. But she could fight this depravity as she had fought so many things in her life. She would never give in to it!
She forced herself to smile at Alan, brushing all lewd and lascivious thoughts from her mind. And then his question--"Do you have a doctor's appointment?" - came back to her.
"I don't have any appointments this afternoon," she told the slim youth standing before her. "Why?"
"Because I'm having trouble again."
"Oh dear. Arithmetic?"
He shook his head. "English," he said dejectedly.
"And what seems to be the problem with English?" Carli asked brightly.
"I can't tell a subject from a predicate," Alan said morosely.
"Who can?" she joked, touched by his obvious confusion.
"Well, some people must be able to or they wouldn't have all those pages about it in the grammar books," Alan pointed out with dead-pan clarity.
"You must be right," Carli admitted. "Here, show me the book. Maybe I can help you."
She scanned it quickly, then just as quickly explained the complexities of sentence structure to Alan. "There," she said. "See how simple it is?"
He nodded, breaking into a broad grin. Carli smiled back at him, waiting for him to leave. But it was obvious he was reluctant to do so. At last she said, "I've got to go now, Alan."
"Honest, Miss Mills?"
"I'm afraid so. But if you have any more problems with your work, you just bring them right to me. I'll be glad to help you at any time. You know that, don't you?"
He nodded. "That sure is nice of you," he said.
"Any teacher would do the same," Carli said modestly. "Any good teacher, that is." With another smile she dismissed the boy and he went out, humming softly to himself.
But when Carli went down the front steps of the school and crossed the parking lot to her car she was amazed to see Alan lounging beside it. "Why, what are you doing here?" she asked, startled and strangely frightened too.
"I was just wondering, Miss Mills ..."
He paused and she prompted him. "Yes?"
"I was just wondering if maybe you could drop me off on your way home. I mean--it's not out of your way or anything, is it?"
For a moment Carli was on the verge of snapping "Yes, it is." But the innocent look in the boy's calm blue eyes made her change her mind. "No," she said. "It's not out of my way. Climb in."
She started the car, uncomfortable at the nearness of the attractive youth. In spite of herself there was a tingling between her legs that nearly drove her to distraction, a chill of excitement running through her that made her tremble. She felt as if her loins were on fire now, the flames sweeping unbidden through her passion-starved body.
She tried to steel herself against the wave of desire that seemed to wash over her, against the return of the lewd thoughts that had passed through her mind not long before. But now she knew it was impossible. She wanted to feel this child's hand on her own soft flesh, feel him run it across her nakedness making her quiver with the sheer delight of his innocent touch.
Oh God! What was the matter with her! No normal woman could feel this way! And if no normal woman could, well, wasn't she a pervert of some sort?
She spun the car around a curve, going so fast that the tires squeaked. The young boy beside her lurched sideways as she did so, falling against her shoulder and sending little electric sparks exploding through her body at the contact. And then she knew it was useless to resist the obscene impulses surging through her. She wanted this boy to ... to ... her mind went back through time and she at last dredged up the obscene word that was the only one to describe what she wanted him to do. To fuck her, that was it. That was what she wanted! Alan would fuck her silly, fuck her until she screamed. And for the first time in her life she would feel pleasure at the lascivious ministrations of a man.
She shook her head, knowing he was not yet that, but knowing too that she must take his slenderly youthful penis deep inside her no matter what happened. Her head was whirling now at the mere anticipation of the ecstasy she would feel as his firmly rigid cock parted the heated lips of her receptive cunt to search out the glistening hole there and then to press in until her warm wet passage was filled with his being. Already she felt the moisture gathering there between her legs and beginning to seep down past her panty crotch band over her shuddering thighs.
Suddenly, almost in panic, she realized that she must find some place where the two of them could be alone together, where no prying eyes could see them. She wanted to be naked with this slim wonderful youth, wanted to feel his body as she wanted him to feel her own. She glanced around her, frantically racking her passion-lusted brain to think of some secluded spot where they would be undisturbed. The word "unmolested" swam into her dizzy mind and she uttered a short sharp laugh that seemed to end in a sob. A place where she could "molest" the child, unmolested herself, she thought grimly. Well, that was the way it would have to be.
As they passed a turn-off she slammed on the brakes. Even so, she overshot it. But she put the car into reverse, backed up and turned onto the narrow road.
Once again Alan fell against her and once again the sheer excitement of his touch made her tremble and tingle from head to toe. Dear God, but this beautiful youth was exciting! She manipulated the steering wheel and drove along as if she were in a trance. Once, when Alan asked where they were going she answered him with a brief and non-committal explanation. "It's such a lovely afternoon, Alan. I thought we might drive somewhere and park."
"Up at the lake?" he asked innocently.
The lake! Again a memory came back to haunt her, this time of her mother and father. But she managed to brush it aside, along with all the guilt feelings that it brought in its train. And then at last her spirit soared and she could think of nothing but the marvelous moments ahead of her.
They drove along beneath the overspreading branches of oaks and elm trees in anticipatory silence until they reached a clearing. All was still there with scarcely a leaf stirring. Carli parked the car and set the brakes. She could feel her heart beating wildly, almost painfully, and wondered if young Alan heard it himself.
She looked at him, drinking in his beauty--he was, indeed, like some fifteenth-century painting - and then knew without a doubt what she must do.
She unbuttoned her coat, pulling it off, and dropped it over the seat of the car onto the floor in back. And then she leaned against the seat in a provocative position, the now throbbing mounds of her breasts distended, the small hard nipples pressing like little pebbles up against the enclosing material of her brassiere.
Oh, dear God! She wanted Alan to touch her there, to strike her quivering breasts, to fasten his mouth on her tender nipples and suck them like sun-ripened fruit. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and saw the bewildered expression on his face. She was moved almost to tears by it. He was so young - so enchantingly young--and so afraid of doing what he must have known she wanted him to do and what he must have wanted too. Well, there was nothing to do but help him, to guide him so that both would take the pleasure due them.
She took his hand in hers and gently placed it on her throbbing breast and then felt with delight the incredible sensation as he insinuated his fingers beneath the loose knit of her sweater. Scarcely breathing now, Carli felt his slender fingers as they worked their way into her brassiere and began to tentatively caress her quivering mounds. Oh, the dear sweet boy! It felt so good--she had never had any idea that anything could be as delightful as this - and most certainly had never thought that any man of any age whatever could so excite her. She leaned back, sighing.
Alan seemed to take courage from that; a moment later he was unbuttoning her sweater and slipping it off her shoulders. And then a moment after that he had pulled the narrow straps of her brassiere down too. She felt him fumbling with the clasp behind her until at last the hooks gave and the restricting garment fell from her. Her breasts sprang free and Alan sucked in his breath at the sight of the two lovely white mounds trembling in the cool air as though beckoning his lustful grasp. His head shot forward then and he fastened his mouth on one taut little nipple, all that Carli had dared hope for.
Gosh! The avidly sucking teenager could hardly believe it. He'd hung around after school waiting for Miss Mills, hoping he could get to know her better. But it had been beyond his wildest dreams to imagine he'd actually be sucking her tits this afternoon.
Alan's tongue flicked out to tease first one quivering bud and then the other into pertly rigid erections while the young teacher gasped in depraved delight. She felt the irresistible wild passion coursing through her again, felt herself tingling with wanton pleasure. And then she sighed ecstatically.
Alan, surprised, lifted his head from her lush throbbing breasts. "Is something wrong, Miss Mills?" he asked. And then he must have realized the absurdity of the question because he added, "I mean ... I mean, did I hurt you or something?"
"Oh no," Carli moaned. "Oh, my God, no!"
"I didn't mean to," Alan said apologetically. "I mean, I wouldn't want to hurt you or anything ..."
"That's all right," Carli whispered joyfully. "You didn't hurt me ... you didn't at all ... "
He flicked his head forward again, fastening his teeth on one saliva-moistened little nipple. Carli sighed again and again, then took his hands in hers, this time guiding them down over her body. He found the zipper of her skirt and drew it down, then pulled the tight-fitting garment down around her hips. Carli lifted herself up, letting him ease it down over her buttocks and then over her thighs. He dropped it on the floor of the car at last and then, again with Carli's encouragement, slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her flimsy white panties. In a moment he had pulled them too down over her hips and thighs and suddenly the desire-demented teacher realized that she was completely shamelessly naked in the front seat of her car in the company of a fourteen year old boy!
She thrilled to the cool air as it blew across her vulnerably exposed loins, relishing the unbearable tingling there between her thighs. Oh, God! Was there nothing that could stop it?
But there was and she shuddered with the knowledge of it! If Alan would just...just ... !
She shook her head, not daring to put it into words. But she leaned forward, taking the boy's head between her hands and guiding it down now, away from her whitely trembling breasts.
His slender tongue shot out to trail along her smooth sensuous skin, down between the two snowy mounds and then over the firm plane of her navel-dimpled belly. She quivered in delight as his tongue laved her erotically responding flesh, moving along every exciting curve and swell until at last it hovered above the small patch of sparse golden pubic hair that nestled between her thighs.
Carli waited for the magic moment when it would snake out to dart along the flaring edges of her velvety-moist cuntal lips, sending even more ecstatic excitement soaring through her. And then, when the astonished child hesitated, she grasped his head even more firmly between her hands, pulling it down ... down ... down ...
At last it was poised above her naked parted loins. She moaned, already imagining the joy she would feel. Then the boy's head plunged forward again and his tongue licked her inner thighs, worming its way up along the length of her tender skin.
Now pleasure pervaded her whole body and she felt a wonderful warmth toward this young boy who seemed to know so clearly just what it was she wanted him to do to her. He looked up at her once, his eyes wide and filled with wonder, and Carli realized that he too was experiencing joy from their mutual act.
Alan's hotly searching tongue had now reached the small clenched hole hidden there between her legs and was probing gently at the hair-lined crevice of her eagerly moistening cunt. "Oh, God!" Carli moaned, leaning back against the driver's door. "Don't stop - for God's sake, don't stop ..."
"I'm not going to stop, Miss Mills," he said, breathing heavily. "Not me!" Boy she must be kidding! Stop when he had this terrific chance to sink his mouth into a pink warm pussy?
The aroused teenager's tongue was curling around his teacher's clitoris now, sending new thrills racing through her. For just the briefest of moments she remembered the horror of being fucked by Bill Hopper, but that soon seemed to be washed away in the lewd abandon of her hotly quivering body. Had it been only a couple of days ago that that dreadful MAN had so abused her poor inexperienced body?
Alan slipped his hands under her buttocks and squeezed and cupped the fully rounded half-moons firmly in his grasp while his tongue searched again for the glistening moist orifice of her cunt, found it and then ground greedily up into it. She squirmed her ass-cheeks rapturously down into the car seat, knowing that this was wrong--but what had she tasted of pleasure in her life that wasn't?--and reveling in it like some crazed jungle creature.
She raised her loins now, forcing the young boy to bury his head even deeper while he continued to suck and lick at her moist and susceptible cunt. Abruptly Alan's hands split the crevice between her undulating white ass-cheeks and Carli held her breath as she felt his slender finger run exploringly down the narrow furrow between them. In delighted amazement, she began to gasp as he continued to run his finger up and down the lewdly parted crevice, and she shifted around on the seat to pull her legs up around his neck and clasp her ankles together to better offer up her pussy to the boy's obscene ministrations.
His tongue continued to lick lewdly and sensuously at her clitoris and he flailed his head back and forth to dart his tongue deep up into her pulsating pussy while she pushed her undulating buttocks back against him with increasingly passionate intensity. He touched her anus then, probing the opening with the tip of his middle finger and the trembling teacher moaned rapturously, amazed that such abandoned joy and pleasure could flood over her so long denied body.
Her blood seemed to bubble up and boil over with her lascivious gyrations as Alan went on and on, sending his incessantly prodding tongue deep up into her cuntal passage, fucking her lewdly. And now, with the lovely youth's wet mouth clamped to her vagina, she felt the first stirrings of her own promised fulfillment. She mewled with pleasure as she writhed and twisted beneath his flicking tongue, knowing vaguely that his hands were groping for her throbbing breasts. One hand teased at them while the middle finger of his other hand continued to poke at the tight little nether ring of her anus, burrowing up inside at last while uncontrollable wails of joy erupted from her lips.
And then she felt the agony and the ecstasy as her moment built up to the point at which it would overwhelm her. She quivered with anticipation of the boundless pleasure to come, her body tingling as if touched lightly by searing tongues of flame. She seemed to know nothing but the delirium of the moment, seemed to be beyond anything reasonable or rational, beyond thought or sense. She cried out softly then, "Oh, God! I'm going to cum ... I'm going to cum ... !"
Carli took a deep breath, her eyes closed, her mind whirling. Once again she moaned, "Oh, my God! I'm cumming ... I'm cumming!" The boy was incredulous with delight. He was licking her so well she was actually going to cum from it!
She writhed and twisted again, her body beyond control as she lifted her loins to meet Alan's excitingly punishing tongue. Over and over she moaned, "I'm cumming... I'm cumming..." Nothing mattered now but the fire of lust which raged out of control in the teacher's hungrily throbbing young cunt. Her head lolled back against the seat of the car and her mouth hung open in ecstasy, and then the warm juices spilled forth from her clenching cunt, seeping down to flow over Alan's still fucking tongue, and course wetly down the crevice of her buttocks.
Drained of all strength, Carli collapsed nakedly back against the door of the car. It was a long time before she had either the strength or the courage to rouse herself, pull her clothes back on and then drive toward home.
When she reached the point where she'd earlier taken the cut-off into the country, she stopped the car. "You'd better get out here," she said.
The man-child looked at her with his beautiful trusting eyes. Carli couldn't resist reaching out to him and taking his hand in hers. "We'll see each other soon," she said. "I promise we will."
She waited until the young boy had disappeared around the corner, and then with a sigh that signaled the beginning of a deep-felt guilt, she pressed heavily on the gas pedal and drove off.
CHAPTER FIVE
In spite of the pangs of conscience that pricked at her from time to time, Carli had no doubt whatsoever as to what was going to happen. She would see young Alan again and again, enjoying his body as she had that day. And perhaps she could bring an equal pleasure to him. She devoutly hoped so.
But the Eros-possessed school teacher knew she must conceal the truth of her perverted feelings and desires from the rest of the world, hide behind a mask as it were. And this was nowhere more true than at school.
The lonely blonde stretched lazily in her bed after the alarm had gone off, looking forward to seeing Alan again, yet warning herself to be on her guard. Her whole future depended on the discretion she showed in class, on the way in which she hid her feelings, the way in which she pretended! Well, she was more than willing to do that in order that this marvelous relationship with young Alan Forbes could continue.
She had a moment's apprehension about Alan himself. What if he somehow let slip what had happened? Oh, God! She would be ruined. But she knew, somehow, that that would never happen. In some way their two destinies were inextricably intertwined and he would no more betray her than she herself would have betrayed her young lover.
At last she arose and hurried into the bathroom to shower, already looking forward to her class when she would see that sweet young boy again. She turned the water on, shed her robe and nightgown, then stepped beneath the stinging spray. The water cascaded down over her lovely shoulders, running in tiny rivulets over the soft curves of her full breasts, playing around the erect little nipples that were like hard and throbbing buds. She moved slightly, letting it flow over the smoothly curving plane of her milk-white belly to the small patch of golden pubic hair between her thighs.
Leaning forward, she felt the warmth of the stream of water against her neck and then against the twin half-moons of her curving buttocks. It slid down the narrow furrow between them, splattering down over her contoured thighs to fall splashing at her feet.
She picked up the bar of soap and began to scrub herself, delighting in the feel of her own body. Before, she had felt remorse for what she had done--almost kidnapping the poor Forbes boy--almost forcing him, by the ruthlessness of her tactics, to perform a wicked perversion. And yet at the moment she felt no guilt. She was too happy, too satisfied. She had never known such joy could be hers, and she was willing to pay the cost of it, whatever that might be.
Still the contented young woman let the water flow over her voluptuous young body, rinsing away the suds that had gathered in the narrow valley separating her firm pointed breasts, that covered the small triangle of hair between her thighs. And then at last she stepped forth, picked up a fluffy towel, and patted herself dry.
She chose her clothes with care that morning, wanting to wear something that would show off her lithe and lovely figure to its best advantage and yet be at the same time very proper and discreet. She settled at last for a cashmere sweater, tight enough, but with a tiny collar that made it seem almost demure, along with a short flared skirt that reached to her mid-thigh. Once dressed she carefully applied just a bit of make-up, then hurriedly swallowed a cup of scalding coffee.
She glanced at herself once again in the mirror and, pleased with what she saw, picked up her purse and her car keys and hurried out.
As the young teacher drove to school that morning, she felt light-hearted and sure of herself. She would see the enchanting Alan soon and the very idea of it warmed her heart. It seemed no time before she was before the huge building, parking her little Mustang carefully in one of the spots reserved for teachers, getting out of the car and hurrying up the steps. She was surprised to realize that she was humming to herself as she strode along.
Carli reached the door to her room - Number 321 - and opened it and went in. No one was there yet so she busied herself with putting her things away, taking out the papers she had not yet had time to grade and glancing quickly over them.
The students began to stream in then - one by one at first - and then in groups of three or four. Carli's heart leaped as she saw Alan stroll in and for a moment she was afraid she would be unable to control her trembling. But she steeled herself to do so, taking a deep breath and staring straight ahead of her for a long while. When she was at last calm she looked up and called the class to order.
The day passed without incident and Alan gave her only the slightest indication that he remembered what had happened the previous afternoon. And in a way, Carli was grateful to him. She was afraid that any more obvious sign would have been unbearable for her.
But she was delighted the next afternoon when he lingered for awhile after the others had left and then approached her desk. "I'd like to see you for awhile, Miss Mills," he said.
She gasped, then managed to calm herself and smile at him brightly. "Why yes, of course, Alan. What is it?"
She waited for him to launch into some description of the difficulties he was experiencing with history - who was Napoleon Bonaparte, anyway? - but he stood before her saying nothing, merely shifting from one foot to the other. And then at last he blurted out, "Maybe I could stop by your house tonight, Miss Mills?"
Surprised and pleased, Carli answered at once, "Why not?"
"I don't know why not, Miss Mills," the boy said innocently. And then he asked, "Would it be okay? I mean, I might come around about eight... eight-thirty, maybe."
Carli swallowed hard, choking back her emotion. "Of course, Alan," she said. "That would be quite all right."
The young boy picked up the books he had dropped on his teacher's desk. "Okay, Miss Mills. I'll see you later," he said. And then he hurried off while Carli stared at his slim receding figure. A short while later she herself picked up a few books, tucked them under her arm and hurried out to her car. And then she drove home.
Too excited to have much of an appetite, she fixed herself a light supper, wondering just exactly when young Alan would turn up. When she had finished eating and had washed up after herself, she took another shower. Then standing naked before the full-length mirror, she sprayed herself with her favorite French perfume. She stared with admiration for awhile at her lovely body, at the superb slope of her shoulders, the indentation of her tiny waist that seemed hardly big enough to choke a sparrow, the flaring hips and thighs. She had a sudden vision of Aunt Sarah and her predictable contempt and fury had she found her niece admiring herself - and that in turn brought to her mind other fears. But she managed to push them aside, to draw her clothes on and touch up her beautiful face with a dab of make-up. And then the doorbell rang and Alan was standing before her, as beautiful as he had always been.
Nervously, she invited him in, suggested that he sit down, and then wondered if she should offer him a drink of some sort. She remembered the brandy she had bought for Bill Hopper, but the very idea of pouring that out for Alan disgusted her and she abandoned it. She waited patiently for him to speak, to tell her what she wanted to hear. But he seemed tongue-tied and at last she said, "Yes, Alan?"
He shuffled in embarrassment, almost as he had that afternoon. And then he said, "Gee, Miss Mills, I wanted to see you. I sure as hell did."
Carli smoothed her short dress down over her hips. "Why, Alan? Are you having more difficulties ..." she heard her own voice and was almost mortified at the triviality of the question. She turned away for a moment, then turned back to the young boy and saw, for the first time, the sheer lust that seemed to light his face.
"You can say that again," her student told her. "I mean about having difficulties."
And now a frown of bewilderment spread across the young woman's face. "Yes?" she asked, her voice as puzzled as the look in her eyes. She shook herself slightly like a dog shaking water from himself as if, in the same way, she could rid herself of the little doubts that had begun to gnaw at her.
"Yes," Alan said, and now the angelic face had become crude and coarse, as if to match the character of the words that would soon spill out. "My balls have been aching, Miss Mills, ever since the other afternoon when we went up there to the lake and you let me suck your sweet little pussy!"
The vulgarity of the young boy's language struck her with the force of a hurricane, almost bowling her over. She held a hand out to steady herself and suddenly remembered the brandy she had considered young Alan too innocent, too pure to drink. Well, he wasn't--his words proved that. And she wasn't either. Damn it all, she could use something strong to calm her raw and frayed nerves. And she strongly suspected that Alan, naive though he might appear, was quite used to quaffing drinks a lot stronger, and in much larger quantities, than anything she might offer him.
She got up and moved toward the kitchen where she kept the bottle of brandy and the glasses, tottering a little on her high heels, but made it there safely. Though still stunned by the boy's statement, she even managed to get back to the living room--all the necessaries on a tray--without dropping or spilling anything. And then she half collapsed, folding herself onto the sofa, setting her feet firmly on the floor as if she took comfort from its stability.
"Drink?" she asked needlessly, pouring two of them without waiting for an answer. She let Alan pick up his own while she reached for the second. She drank it quickly, sighing with relief as the warmth of the alcohol spread through her, helping her to relax.
She poured herself a second drink, then turned to stare at Alan. "Where on earth did you learn words like that?" she asked him at last.
"What words?"
"Those ones you just used. Like ..." But Carli couldn't bring herself to utter them.
"Like pussy, you mean?"
The young teacher nodded, knowing she was blushing and hating herself for it. "Yes," she said.
"Hell, Miss Mills. Everybody knows words like that."
"But... but... they don't use them. At least not when they're with ... with decent people ..."
Alan laughed and again the teacher was shocked and surprised by the coarseness of the sound. Oh, dear God! How could she have misjudged him so? Because he had such a lovely face, she had let her imagination run wild, thinking of him as a sweet and innocent little thing, too good to have carnal desires like the grown men she had known. And here he was, proving to her that he was just as bad as they were - maybe even worse. But now he cleared his throat and fixed his teacher with a cold cruel stare. "What's so decent about you, Miss Mills?" he asked with brutal frankness. "I mean, you're the one who drove me up there and made me do it - made me lick your cunt and suck it too -just like some old whore. An' Christ, if you hadn't been shaking like you were scared of men - real men, I mean, I would have fucked you silly. Just like I'm going to do now."
"Oh, no," Carli whimpered as the full meaning of his words sank into her consciousness. "No, Alan dear."
"Ah, come off it, Miss Mills. I had you pegged from the first time I saw you. One of those women who goes for studs half her age. They're all over the place ..."
"And you've been ..." Carli couldn't think of how to express herself.
"I've been fucking them until they can't walk," the precociously hardened boy said with brazen pride. "Just like I'm going to do to you ..."
Shattered, Carli could only whimper her protests. But Alan silenced her. "Don't bother me with all your damn yak-yak-yak," he said. "You knew what you were doing and so did I, and I know what I'm going to do now."
Before the terrified teacher could open her mouth again she felt her student's slender yet steel-like fingers gripping her shoulders, digging into them so painfully that she almost screamed. And then she felt him tugging at her sweater, trying to pull it up over her arms and head. At last he gave up and yanked it so hard that the threads gave way and a huge split appeared in it. Alan tore at it again and now it came off completely, exposing her full breasts that amply filled the lacy cups of her brassiere. A moment later he unhooked it and stripped it from the woman's trembling body.
The cold air rushed across her naked breasts and Carli instinctively put her hands across them as if to shield them. But Alan's hands shot down to grasp her wrists and pull them away. "Don't do that," he said. "I want to see you."
He stared for a long time at the two snowy mounds, their small nipples hardening into taut bead-like nubs. Carli waited for him to go on, to tear her skirt off and then her panties, to run his hands up and down her naked thighs, to probe at the little bud of her clitoris and then snake his middle finger deep up inside her warm moist vagina, turning it and twisting it until she was ready to go out of her mind. Oh, God! Bill Hopper had done that to her - he had practically raped her - and now this young boy she had thought to be so innocent was planning to do the same thing!
But once again young Alan startled the older woman. Seeing the fear on her face his own tone softened. "Gee, Miss Mills," he said soothingly, "you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you. Honest I'm not."
"But you said ..."
"Yeah," Alan shrugged. "But see, look at it this way. Maybe I understand you. Maybe I know something about piss ... i ... chology."
In spite of herself, Carli burst out laughing. "Don't you mean 'psychology'?" she asked. Alan nodded and she added, "I thought so. Well, what do you know?"
"I know you're scared of men 'cuz you think they'll hurt you. And maybe they have and maybe they will. But I'm not going to do nothing to hurt you, Miss Mills. Matter of fact, I'm not going to do nothing to you."
"You're not?" Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she managed to stop trembling. "Why?" She could scarcely understand this boy! Here he had her at his mercy and yet he was refusing to take advantage of that.
"Because you don't want me to. Isn't that right?"
The wide-eyed young woman nodded, her hair flailing out like so many golden sunbeams lit by the light from the dimly burning lamp. "But you want to do something to me, though," Alan went on. "That's right too, isn't it?"
Carli started at the question. She had been afraid - afraid - to admit it even to herself. And now this mere boy had understood. She nodded at last, and he said, "And what you want to do is to suck me off. Right?" Again she nodded. "So why not?" Alan asked with exquisite logic. "Turn about's fair play, isn't it?"
The shocked yet relieved young woman watched in amazement as the youth before her slowly and carefully pulled down the zipper of his fly, then inserted his fingers to maneuver his slim young penis into the open air. He stood there for a moment and then invited. "You do it, Miss Mills. It's better that way."
A chill of excitement crawled along her backbone. He knew! Oh, dear God! He knew!
And then she reached out to take his already hardening cock in the palm of her hand, beginning to massage it, pushing the loose foreskin back and forth while Alan in his turn began to tremble. "Christ!" he said. "That feels good. That feels so good!"
His approving words somehow heartened the lovely woman and she suddenly asked, "Do you want me to take your ... your ... pants off?"
"Yeah," Alan said. "I guess it's better with your pants off."
At once all the warmth the half-naked woman had felt before for his precious young student of hers came rushing back. She would do whatever it was he wanted--whatever it was! Again she realized that Alan at least had no desire to hurt her and, knowing that, she knew that he was different - a race apart. He might be worldly wise beyond his years, but deep down she knew he would be gentle with her. "Here," she said softly. "Come here."
The boy moved forward and she eased his tight-fitting Levi's down over his hips, then slid them off over his slender legs. She pulled his jockey shorts down next, watching with elated anticipation as his virile young cock sprang forth, free of all encumbrance. And then a sudden thought struck her. This was no place for them to do ... to ... for her to take ...
She couldn't think of the words, although the image of herself bending over him, her lovely moist lips ovalled to take his hard young penis deep between them was as vivid to her and as real as the hand she held up before her eyes. At last she managed to say, "Not here, Alan. Not here."
"Why not?"
"It ... it just wouldn't be right," she said. He looked at her and shrugged. "Okay," he said.
Carli got up and led him into the bedroom, pulling down the shades before she turned on one dim light. And then she pulled the bedspread back and turned the bed down. "Here," she said. "Here on my bed."
Alan shrugged again. "Okay," he said obligingly. He sat down on the edge of the bed and Carli dropped to her knees beside it, reaching out her hands again to touch the hard flesh of his lustfully distended penis, the bulbous head now engorged with blood and glistening with the tiny drops of seminal fluid that began to seep from the tip.
She noticed the boy's rising excitement and knew that it matched her own. Yet something held her back for an instant - some knowledge that the pleasure would be even more exquisite for both of them were she to wait.
But at last she could restrain her sinful desire no longer. She wanted to engulf this dear child's throbbing shaft, take it deep into the warm cavern of her mouth so far that it would seem to brush against her throat. She flicked her tongue teasingly from her mouth and ran it wetly around her full red lips to moisten them. Then she bent her head forward until it almost grazed the boy's rigidly expectant cock.
She parted her lips and now her head inched forward until ... until ... oh, dear God! It was hard to believe that such ecstasy could be hers ... until the tip of her tongue found the tiny slit that gleamed like a single eye at the end of the throbbing head.
Suddenly she felt a trickle of warm vaginal fluid seep between her legs, felt it flood her pulsating little pussy, adding to her obscene and perverted desire. And now, with little spasms of delight, she began to run her tongue back and forth over the glistening surface of the boy's desire-swollen member, licking and tasting hungrily at the drops of seminal fluid that gathered on the glans.
Carli closed her eyes and ovalled her mouth, still putting off the magic moment when she would take his rampant hardness into her deep between her lips. Then with a sudden deep groan young Alan flicked his hips forward, pressing his lust-engorged cock between her open lips. He reached down to tangle his hands in her hair, pulling her closer as he plunged deeper and deeper into her mouth, the vibrating male hardness sending shocks of excitement darting up and down her spine.
The aroused teacher began to moan with an ecstatic joy as the youth slipped his cock eagerly in and out between her lips, entering again and again her avidly working mouth, withdrawing, then pushing forward while she accepted and responded to this perverted invasion of her own body with a delight she had never known before.
And then the terrifying thought came to her of what she was doing--what she was actually doing! SHE WAS SUCKING COCK!
The mere thought sent spasms of fear coursing through her and for one moment she saw herself as Aunt Sarah would have seen her--as someone no better than a common whore. No, she was worse than that, for she was indulging in this insane passion with a mere boy ... a ... a "stripling" as Shakespeare might have called him, she thought illogically. She was sucking the cock of a mere boy. And then she forgot about Aunt Sarah as the relentless joy and pleasure of the moment overwhelmed her .
Carli felt the desire building up in the boy's body as he thrust his hips forward more and more violently, driving the pulsating head of his cock deeper and harder into her mouth. She responded with little cries of rapture and then she began to sway back and forth, almost in rhythm to the young penis fucking into her mouth. Her body began to sway back and forth with an intensity she had never imagined possible and yet one she seemed to have waited for throughout her life. She was alive, she was vibrant, she was a human being whose deepest desires were being fulfilled, and the mere knowledge of that made her feel as if she had reached the gates of heaven.
She began to suck hungrily at the young boy's cock, her cheeks pulling at it as though she could never get enough. Her lips contracted, tightened around the slender young penis that speared in and out of her now tightly locked mouth like a well-oiled piston. And then above her lust-contorted face, the boy began to move in a more frenzied fashion as he felt the sperm welling up in his bloated, lust-swollen testicles.
His cum spilled forth then to spurt the length of his still thrusting cock and gush out in a delicious lewd torrent up into the trembling teacher's eagerly absorbing young mouth. She struggled desperately to swallow every precious drop of the thick fiery liquid, her tongue spiraling and swirling voraciously around the boy's rapidly deflating penis as she licked at the last vestige of his seminal fluid. Wanting desperately to prolong this ecstasy, she clung possessively to his almost limp organ, still sucking as if to extract the very last of the life-giving fluid from it, feeling her hotly clenching cunt orgasming moistly.
At last though, Alan withdrew his cock from her still clasping mouth. And then Carli lifted her head to look at him with a benign cum-moistened smile while little spasms of joy still shot through her. But even those eventually ended and she sank to the floor, feeling utterly at peace with the world.
When Alan finally arose from the bed and pulled his clothes on, moving toward the door, Carli called after him, "Will you come back?"
He whirled to face the bare-breasted school teacher. "You bet," he said.
"When?" Carli wanted to know.
"Maybe tomorrow - maybe the day after? When do you want me to come back?"
Carli shook her head. What could she answer when she didn't want him to leave? Finally she said, "As soon ... as soon as you can ..."
"Tomorrow then?" her student asked. "Okay?"
He started for the door again, then stopped one more time. He seemed to be pondering something, puzzling it out. At last he said, "Maybe I should come on Friday, Miss Mills. Would that be all right with you?"
Carli was disappointed at the idea of waiting so long to see the lovely young boy again. But she nodded, in spite of her reservations.
He seemed to sense them and hastened to reassure her. "It's just that if I came around on Friday," he explained, "I could bring the rest of the gang with me."
"The rest of the gang?" Carli asked.
"Yeah, the rest of the gang."
"What for?"
"I don't know. I just thought it might be a lot more fun. You know what they say - 'the more, the merrier'."
"Oh yes," Carli said, grinning at the teenager in dazed satiation. "I know. All right, bring as many of your friends as you want to."
"Thanks, Miss Mills," Alan said. He went out, slamming the front door behind him. Carli sank to the floor again, knowing now that she would let Alan do anything he wanted to her. If he wanted to fuck her silly, she would let him do that - yes, fuck her silly. And his friends, too. They were different, these young people, and she had nothing to fear from them. They were wonderful, the lust-perverted blonde thought, and she would give herself to them gladly. To every one of them. Why not? "The more, the merrier," as Alan had said.
She got to her feet, then went into the other room and poured herself a glass of brandy. "The more, the merrier!" she offered as a toast. And then she drank it down.
CHAPTER SIX
The days passed slowly, with Carli getting up each morning a little nervous about facing her class of students. At first she was wary, wondering again if Alan would betray her in some way. But as his school teacher saw him poised and sure of himself, talking to the other students and addressing her with the strict formality due her position, she began to relax. There would be no problem on that score, she told herself.
And then the lustful blonde's thoughts darted ahead to Friday evening and the "party" Alan had promised. She wondered whom he would bring and what they would do. From time to time she let her imagination run wild, but when she did her excitement mounted until she was afraid someone would notice. Oh, dear God! It was almost as if someone could look into her mind--her Aunt Sarah, perhaps--and read her evil thoughts. She tried her best to rid herself of them, tucking them away in quiet corners for hours and hours on end. But they seemed to sneak back into her consciousness when she least expected them and to set her nerves to tingling once more.
At home, though, she worried about more mundane things. What should she plan for these young people? Games? She shook her head, laughing almost obscenely. "Fun and games." Wasn't that the expression. Yes, it was, and she knew her guests would know far more about such things than she.
But there were still more practical matters to be decided - what to serve, for example. Normally she would have offered her students soft drinks, but she was certain they were too sophisticated to want those. Yet trouble loomed ahead if she offered them liquor--whiskey or brandy or even beer. Finally, knowing that she was, or could easily be, in real trouble already because of her relationship with Alan, she shrugged the matter off and made her decision: whiskey it would be.
She wondered about cigarettes, too, then decided to leave them around for those who wanted them. It wasn't the same thing as actually offering them, was it? Just having them around? No, she decided. Of course not. So she would have cigarettes around.
She changed her mind half a dozen times before Friday evening rolled at last around, calling the local grocery shop to order a case of Cokes, then calling a few minutes later to cancel the order and then calling to say that she wanted them delivered at once. Finally she compromised and ordered a large supply of soft drinks along with an ample supply of liquor. The only things she was really sure about serving, though, were the pretzels and potato chips she had picked up to go with them.
She had the same difficulty deciding what she would wear. A dress, she thought, might be too formal - might put the kids off. On the other hand, a mini-skirt and a tight sweater - and all of hers were tight - might just invite trouble. But that worry seemed ridiculous. She'd been asking for that ever since she'd met Alan. So ... ?
She dressed at the last minute, after an agony of indecision, in a skirt and sweater. She had just brushed her hair until it gleamed like spun gold and was putting on a touch of lipstick when the doorbell rang. She quickly slipped her feet into a pair of high-heeled pumps and hurried to answer it.
Her heart was beating like a drum, pounding against her ribs until she thought it would break them as she turned the knob and pulled the door open. Alan stood there alone waiting impatiently for her. Once again her heart beat wildly as she stepped back and welcomed him into her house.
Staring at him she knew that he was going to fuck her tonight and that now, at long last, she wanted to be fucked! She wanted to be fucked by Alan, to have him send his throbbing youthful penis deep up into her cunt for the first time, impaling her while she thrashed beneath him. A new arid deep excitement whirled through her at the very thought.
She led him into the living room wondering what to say to this youngster who was soon to fuck her, to send her into deliriums of untasted pleasure. But words failed her and she could do nothing but stare at the calm and angelic face which hid such tempestuous passions. And then she heard the doorbell ring again and was grateful for it; it gave her time to think. "There's the doorbell," she said. "I'd better go."
She hurried off to pull the door open and to greet the young couple - Tony Warren and Judy Harper - who stood there. "Come in," she said, a note of false gaiety in her voice. "Come on." Noting the teenagers' hesitancy, she stepped back to let them pass, then showed them to the living room where Alan was already seated on the sofa.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Carli asked them, playing the gracious hostess in spite of her churning emotions. "I mean, I've got Cokes if you'd like that..." she looked at their stony faces and hastily added, "or Scotch, if you'd like."
"Yeah, that would be fine," Tony said.
"And Judy?" Carli asked, smiling a little too brightly, aware that her voice was just a mite too high-pitched.
"Yeah," Tony said sullenly, "Judy, too."
"I'll get them for you," Carli said, smiling until her mouth was stiff and sore. "I'll get them for you."
She went off and poured stiff drinks for the two young people, knowing somehow that they would want them that way. She was soon back with their beverages and was about to offer cigarettes too when she realized they had already lit up. Tony held his out to her, asking, "Want a drag on this?"
Carli shook her head, not understanding at first. Why wouldn't they offer her one for herself, the way people usually did? And then it occurred to her! These weren't ordinary cigarettes--not Winstons or Salems or any of the other brands she occasionally bought--these were different. To begin with, they were wrapped in a strange brown paper. Besides that, they looked as if the kids had rolled them themselves--and with a sudden insight Carli realized what they had. Why, this was marijuana--these cigarettes were reefers! These children were taking drugs, just as casually as they ... as they ... she searched for a suitable simile ... just as casually as they brushed their teeth in the morning!
And with almost the same devil-may-care attitude as that of the youngsters, the resigned teacher took the cigarette from Tony and puffed on it, inhaling deeply. Suddenly she was seized with a fit of coughing. Her face turned scarlet, partly from chagrin as the others laughed at her. But it was partly from the effect of the smoke, too. Finally, as she coughed and sputtered Tony said, "Hey, you're doing it all wrong. Take it easy right at first. Then later take it into your lungs and hold it there as long as possible. That's the only way you'll get a high on it... "
"A 'high'?" Carli asked.
"Get a kick out of it," Tony explained.
"Oh, I see." Carli dragged on the cigarette again, following directions as closely as possible. This time she had no trouble and she soon began to feel calmer than she had in a long time. Her world seemed to whirl around her, but it was a beautiful world, and she hardly cared if it was upside down. Who knows which end is up, she asked herself rhetorically, and then answered, equally rhetorically, who cares?
She had settled comfortably back to enjoy the cigarette and the wonderful feeling of peace and contentment it gave to her when she heard the doorbell ring again. She thought she saw Alan rise to answer it but even so stood up herself and hurried off, her high heels clattering. Another pair of her students stood before her now, the lovely little brunette who sat in the front of the room - wasn't her name Frannie? -and a tall thin boy named Steve. Carli showed them in and invited them, too, to sit down.
She looked around and saw that Alan was still perched on the edge of one of the armchairs--he hadn't moved to the door after all. But Judy and Tony had disappeared. She wondered vaguely where they might have gone but forgot all about them when the doorbell rang again. "I'll go," she said, just as if Alan had offered to go himself--or as if there had been anyone else there.
Now she seemed to float through space, coming down to earth in the front hall, reaching out to the doorknob like some sort of sorceress, opening the door and greeting the newcomers. They, too, were from her class, although at first she had difficulty placing them. She stood before them, stammering out a welcome before their names finally flashed before her like neon signs in the dark. Harry Abbott and Louise Bishop. "Hi, kids, good to see you," she said, the words somehow coming to her lips without any thought on her part.
Though she still seemed to be floating, everything felt good to her now. She led the newcomers back to the living room and poured drinks for them, not quite aware of what she was doing but still pleased that she succeeded so well.
She was about to offer them cigarettes too when - like Tony and Judy - they pulled out their own and held them out. She took one this time without comment and let Alan light it for her. Then she handed it to him.
The drug-dazed teacher turned to look at Alan now, sitting once more on the chair opposite her. Somehow he seemed nearer--and yes, dearer, too - to her than he had ever been. She felt in some strange way that she would see him with some sort of X-ray eye, staring at him through the sweater and shirt he wore, through the Levi's that clung tightly to his hips and slender buttocks. He was beautiful, she thought. More beautiful than she had ever imagined. More beautiful even than he had seemed to her the other day when his head was bent down between her thighs, his tongue madly flicking along the length of her quivering pussy, then probing deep up into the small glistening orifice there between her legs. More beautiful even than when she had taken his pulsing young cock into her own mouth and sucked madly on it, tasting the strangely exciting fluid that seeped from it then swallowing it greedily as it had at last gushed forth in climax.
And then she saw, as she had really known all the time, that he was still wearing his clothes, although she seemed still to see him naked, his lithe athletic body as perfect as that of a Greek god. At the same time she knew the sole goal in her life now was to strip this handsome youth naked, to crush him to her, fondling and caressing him, and then to take him into her, accepting his slender rigid penis deep up into her warmly moist vaginal passage.
She stood up, seeing him seem to swim nearer to her and then float away. She brushed her hand across her forehead, knowing that this was the inevitable - and exciting - result of all the marijuana she had smoked. She wondered if Alan felt the same way and then as she rose and saw him rise to follow her, she was sure that he did.
Without a word she led him into the bedroom. The lights were off there, but a strip of moonlight lit the room as it crept beneath the half-drawn shade and spilled across the bed. As her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, Carli gasped. My God! There was someone lying there! She moved closer, peering through the darkness.
It was two people--it was a young couple--oh, dear God! It was Tony and Judy! And they were stripped naked, their bodies entwined lewdly together.
The salacious sight sent waves of desire coursing through her veins, setting off little sparks of pure delight in her blood. God Almighty! She wanted that! She wanted that to happen to her!
Even as Carli watched the young couple, she saw Tony pull himself up, turning now to kneel over the prone undulating body of his young girl friend. With a quick gesture he bent forward to spread her quivering thighs wide, then ran his hands down their soft inner surface.
Judy moaned quietly as he did so, then reached up to tangle her hands in his hair. "Man," she whispered. "Ooooh! Man!"
"Good, isn't it kid?" he asked. And then Carli saw the boy grasp his lustfully rigid cock in one hand and guide it down toward the girl's wide welcoming pussy. Their drugged teacher sucked in her breath at the sight of the fleshy pussy lips opening outward like some sort of pale pink flower, at the line of sparse pubic hair that edged them, at the tiny orifice that glistened within. And she let her breath out with a loud groan as she saw the young boy slowly, teasingly part the strands of light hair with the swollen head of his blood-engorged cock. When he found the tight little opening of the teenager's vagina he surged forward, entering the small moist channel slowly, probing deeper and deeper until she seemed to have taken him completely up into her now filled clasping channel.
"Good?" Tony repeated, almost gasping out his pleasure this time as Judy moaned and ground her wriggling ass-cheeks down into the mattress beneath her, half wanting to escape his virile thrusts, half desperate for them. And then the boy pulled back and plunged his hard relentless shaft up into her, almost to the hilt while the girl twitched beneath him in a torment of ecstasy.
Suddenly Carli could stand it no longer. "Oh, God," she whimpered, pulling Alan to her and reaching for the zipper on his fly. With another whimpering sound she pulled it down, then slid his trousers over his hips. "Now me," she whispered seductively as she eased her student's shorts off, too.
It seemed forever to the young teacher before he understood. She trembled in anticipation, wondering how else she could express herself. Did he really want her to beg him to fuck her? Did he? She glanced at him, then blurted it out. "Fuck me, Alan!" she said. "Fuck me, just like that!"
"Sure, Miss Mills," he said, apparently incited by her obscene command, pulling her sweater off hurriedly, then unzipping her skirt and slipping it to the floor. He ripped frantically at her brassiere and panties until they, too, fell around her feet. And then he whispered hoarsely, ''Come on. Let's fuck!"
"Oh, yes," she whispered, scarcely breathing in her excitement. "Yes!" And then she moved close, pressing her nakedly pulsating loins up against his, feeling the growing hardness there between his legs. She reached down impulsively to take his burgeoning young penis in her hands and massage it tenderly as she had done before, pulling the foreskin back and forth gently but firmly until the young boy groaned in ecstasy. "Man, Miss Mills! Oh, Man!"
There was a maddening tingling between the older woman's legs now, an ache in her loins that was driving her insane. She felt as if she were on fire, with flames spreading through her like a house made of paper.
Carli pressed the boy even closer while the shooting flames that still seemed to envelop her alternated with the chills of pleasure that crawled up her spine. "You dear, sweet boy," she gasped, darting a glance at the couple on the bed. Tony had arched back and then pressed forward, driving his slender pulsating penis deep up into the girl's quivering cunt. His hands were on her breasts now, his fingers trailing across the cream-white mounds and teasing at the taut little nipples.
At the sight, Carli grasped Alan's hands in hers and placed them on her own throbbing swollen breasts. "Oh, God, Alan," she cried. "Oh, God! Do it... do it!"
He began to stroke her breasts, just as Tony stroked Judy's, trailing a finger across one and then across the other, then grasping the small turgid bud of one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and twisting and tweaking it until it hardened into a quivering little erection. As Carli mewled with pleasure he flicked his head forward, taking the tiny nub between his Lips now, letting his teeth close over it until she winced. He was hurting her now and yet she had never enjoyed anything so much! It was hard to understand and she wrinkled her brow, trying to puzzle it out. But nothing made sense to her except the fact that this was the most wonderful moment of her life and she wished it could go on forever.
And then the passion-wracked teacher knew there was an even more wonderful moment coming as Alan pushed her backward down onto the bed beside the other young couple. She felt Judy's nakedly writhing flesh next to hers, felt Tony's, too, and then clasped her arms around Alan's shoulders. "Not on the bed," she whispered, feeling a new and perverted thrill go through her.
"Where then?" he asked excitedly. "Oh, Jees! I can't wait! Where?"
Carli's voice was husky with lust now and with her lewd craving for her handsome student. "On the floor," she suggested, thinking somehow that nothing could be more depraved than that. She slid down toward it, collapsing onto the thick bearskin rug with which she had furnished her bedroom and lay back, her legs spread wide, exposing the hair-lined lips of her moistly waiting cunt.
As Alan sank to the floor, too, and then knelt over her, his face fixed on the little "vee" between her legs, he saw his teacher's cuntal lips begin to contract spasmodically while dewdrops of moisture seeped down from them.
The nearness of the boy--the knowledge of the approaching moment when his slender penis would at last burrow moistly up between the hotly pulsating walls of her narrow vagina -made her whimper in ecstasy. A hot desire scorched her throbbing channel--a lewd and lustful longing made her whole body quiver with delight while her flesh erupted in goose bumps. And then the enormity of what she was doing -the wickedness of it--crossed her mind.
Dear God! Not only was she about to be possessed by this mere youth, her own student whom she had already led before into wild debauchery - but this lascivious and degrading act was to take place on the floor! It was as if... as if ... why, as if they were no more than a couple of animals!
And yet, evil though it seemed - shameful and humiliating it was--the lust-tormented young woman managed to put all guilt thoughts out of her mind, reveling in her wanton depravity. Abruptly Alan seized her ankles, and now he levered her unresisting legs up off the bearskin rug, pushing them back over her head and pinning them against her shoulders. Her body was bent almost double when he pressed forward at last, guiding his erectly youthful penis toward the glistening hole of her helpless upturned pussy split.
His lithe young body dropped now onto Carli's quaking form, smashing her full ripe breasts back against her chest. And then his rigid cock shot forward to press into the woman's hungrily gaping cunt, plunging deeper and deeper as it pushed the unresisting folds of rippling cuntal flesh in moist waves before its blood-engorged head.
Carli groaned as she felt a moment's pain, then began to mewl with pleasure at the hard dilated penis that filled her narrow clasping passage, at the hairless balls that smacked into the wet crevice of her buttocks. Her head rolled wildly from side to side and her mouth opened slackly in ecstatic abandon.
She began to run her hands up and down the boy's slim haunches, drawing her fingernails across his pumping buttocks until she left a trail of puffy welts on the writhing tautness. And then she firmly grasped his now driving ass-cheeks to pull him deeper yet into her receptive loins.
The boy thrust in and out now, arching back, then shooting forward as he fucked into her like a pistoning rod. Her half-closed eyes were glazed and her body on fire with the ultimate pleasure.
Somewhere at the back of her mind, she realized that the door had opened and that another youngster had come in. She heard his voice but was too far gone in her orgiastic delight to try to make out his words. And then she felt, rather than saw, this newcomer drop to the floor beside her, felt a harsh rigidity brush against her lips. Unaware of what she was doing, knowing only that there was an even further joy here, she ovaled them wide and took the rigid length of another pulsating young cock deep up into her mouth. It brushed against her tongue, sending new and more obscene pleasures through her helpless body. And then it pushed forward until Carli was certain it would scrape against her very throat.
She gasped for breath, taking in needed oxygen as the boy - whoever he might be -withdrew. And then she felt the lewdly probing penis dart deep up into the warm cavern of her mouth again, while Alan's equally swollen and exciting member slid deep into her belly. She moved between the two boys now, sucking voraciously at the same time that she bucked and heaved beneath the penis plunging deep into her pussy.
And Carli saw nothing, heard nothing, knew nothing but the wild and delirious delight of the moment...
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sharon Forbes sat quietly in an armchair near the fireplace and stared at her husband. To anyone else, she thought, he would have looked like just what he was--a successful businessman. He was still handsome despite--or perhaps because of--the small grey patches at his temples. But his figure was as trim as it had been when they were married more than fifteen years ago, his spirit as youthful. It would have been hard, she thought, to recognize Joe as the father of a strapping fourteen year old. But he was--he was! Sometimes she herself was surprised, looking at her still youthful body in the mirror when, stripped naked, she stood for a moment before stepping beneath the shower, to realize that she was Alan's mother. But again the attractive brunette repeated to herself that she was, she was!
She knew that Joe was as proud of their son as she was and the two were pleased that they had brought him up in the most liberal way possible. Nothing he could say or do shocked them and they had even encouraged him to be as free in his ways as they were. And that, Sharon had to admit, was pretty free.
They'd never made any bones about the pleasure they got from sex, from fucking as she preferred to call it. And they'd let young Alan know at an early age that the greatest pleasure in life came from the fulfillment of the most sensual of all impulses. They'd gone far beyond telling their son "the facts of life". They'd made it plain to him that sex was meant for enjoyment, that fucking was fun, and that screwing was by no means sinful.
They were, in short, swingers, and their marriage was immensely successful because they understood each other so well--each other's needs and wants - and were more than willing to fulfill them. And even when that meant going outside the family there was no anger, no recriminations. If Sharon had her little affairs -and she did - it merely strengthened the bonds between the two. And if Joe strayed from time to time - as was his wont - that, too, added a tantalizing extra to their marriage.
Recently, though, they had become involved with some of their neighbors who went in for wife-swapping. This they found was even more to their tastes than the occasional infidelity, however acceptable it might be to the opposite partner. Staring at her handsome husband, Sharon's heart gave a little lurch of pleasure and her skin turned prickly at the thought of the way in which he caressed her soft smooth skin, teased and taunted her nipples, stroked delightfully at the tiny bud of her clitoris to arouse her fully before he finally plunged deep into her vagina, his huge thick penis plowing deep and sending waves of ecstasy through her quivering body.
There was no position they hadn't tried, she assured herself now, no fashion of making love that was unknown to them. She sighed with her deep satisfaction, watching her husband again.
He stirred and put aside the newspaper he was reading. "Where's Alan?" he asked suddenly.
"I don't know. He must have a date," Sharon answered.
"Yeah? Who with?"
"I don't know. But he must have one. He left just after dinner and it's almost ten o'clock now."
"Think he's making out okay?" Joe asked suddenly.
Sharon laughed. "He can take care of himself," she said, shaking her head. "And I'm sure he can take care of any girl he meets up with, too."
Joe Forbes nodded in assent. "I guess you're right," he said.
"Of course I am," Sharon shot back at him.
Joe crossed his legs and looked around at the pleasant living room. He was grateful to his wife for many things. Damn it all! She was as lovely now as when he'd married her and in spite of the years which had passed he still licked his lips lasciviously at the sight of her full round breasts heaving ever so slightly now beneath the sheer fabric of the low-cut blouse she was wearing. Jesus! You could practically see everything--the small erect buds of her nipples, the wonderful curves of the two white mounds, the soft snowy skin. Thank God she still dressed to please him and not to satisfy the Mrs. Grundys who looked down on the unorthodox couple with distaste if not disgust.
He was grateful to the lovely dark-haired woman too, for the quiet way in which she provided for his comforts, keeping the house neat and cheerful, with a fire glowing in the fireplace on cold nights, flowers in bowls all over when spring at last appeared. She was a good cook, too, he thought and she'd been a good mother to their kid--Alan, their only child. Which brought him back to wondering just where the hell the boy might be now.
He puffed on his pipe, staring off into the distance. And then he suddenly mused, "You know, Alan's a funny kid. He looks like a little cherub--he really does. To see his face you'd think butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. And "And yet?" Sharon asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "And yet?"
"And yet he's a regular chip off the old block."
"That's right," Sharon said, laughing again. "And I just wonder what he's up to tonight."
"He's got a girl," Joe said simply, stating the obvious without the slightest hint of disapproval. "What do you think."
"Well, that's what I think too," his lovely wife said. "But I wonder who she is."
"Dunno," Joe told her and dived into his paper again.
But a little while later he was surprised by Sharon's voice. "I have the funniest feeling about Alan," she said.
"Like what?" Joe asked her, his head still buried in the financial news.
"Oh, you know ..." Sharon tried again, but failed.
"No, I don't actually." Joe folded his paper now, turning to the obituaries.
Sharon noticed that and said, "Really, Joe, do you have to ... ?"
"Have to what?"
"To read such depressing things."
"No," Joe said. "Now that you mention it, I don't."
"Good."
"But do you have anything better to suggest?"
"Well, I thought we might..."
Joe's ears pricked up and a lewd grin spread across his face. "Screw?" he asked lewdly.
Sharon shook her head, a hint of annoyance on her face. "I thought we might try to find out where Alan is," she said.
"Oh, he's okay," Joe answered loftily, waving his hand. "Don't worry."
"It's not really that I'm worried," Sharon said. "It's just..."
"Just what?"
"Just that I have this funny feeling, Joe."
"You're a typical mother," Joe told her, laughing. "Okay, so how do we find our wandering boy tonight, honey?"
"Well, we could call some of those girls he's been taking out."
"Like who?"
"Like Marcie what's-her-name ..."
"How are you going to look her up in the phone book? There must be a million 'what's--her--names," Joe asked with devastating logic.
Sharon shook her head. "You have a point there," she finally agreed.
"Anyone else?" Joe asked, laughing again.
"Oh, Joe," Sharon protested. "You know how I feel about Alan ..."
"Sure--like I just said, like a typical mother."
"Well, what if he's in trouble of some sort," she asked, knowing in her bones that that couldn't be.
"He isn't likely to be," Joe said. "I mean, he's a big boy now. He can take care of himself."
Sharon chewed on her lower lip, looking lovelier than ever. Finally she said, "Joe?"
"Yes, ma'am ..."
"Oh, Joe. Don't make fun of me."
He looked up at her repentantly. "I'm sorry, Sharon. I really am."
"Look, Joe. Do you know what I think?"
"No," he said, afraid of offending his wife and anxious not to. "What do you think?" He was conciliatory now. "What?"
"I think he's gone over to that young school teacher's. That's what I think."
"Gone where?"
"To that young school teacher's. You know. His new ninth-grade teacher. Miss something--or--other."
"You'll have to be more specific than that, if you want me to follow you," Joe said.
"Well, you know. Miss Mills. Carli Mills. I think that's her name."
"And what makes you think he's there?" Joe asked.
Sharon shrugged. It was partly woman's intuition, but it would have been ridiculous to try to explain that to her husband. Much as she loved him, she could never get him to see her point of view about a lot of things. "I just know," she said at last.
Joe stared at her, wondering if she really did have a sixth sense. Something told him she did, but something perverse in him made him say, "Show me!"
Surprised, Sharon opened her eyes wide. And then she nodded at her husband. "I will," she said. "I just will."
She got up and went into the bathroom, washing her face and putting on fresh makeup, running a comb through her thick dark hair, spraying on a bit of perfume. She made a face at herself in the mirror and then had to laugh. What on earth was the matter with her that she insisted on going out like this to find Alan! She didn't know, and yet nothing could keep her back!
She went to the living room, walking through it to the coat closet in the hall and slipping her camel-hair polo coat over her shoulders. She went back to the living room then and stood in front of her husband, preening just a little. When he still stared at the newspaper he held before his face she said, "Well, I'm ready."
"Ready for what?" Joe asked, looking up, and Sharon realized that men would never, never understand--not in a million years.
"Ready to go over to that woman's place ... you know ..."
"No, I don't."
"Yes you do, Joe. You just said ..."
"Hold on, Sharon. All I said was 'Show me'!"
"And I said that I would."
"Well, you don't really have to go this far."
"Oh, Joe," Sharon said. "Don't be difficult."
"Difficult? Me? I've never been difficult in my life."
"Please Joe," Sharon begged, her face tense now, her hands twitching. "Please."
"Okay," he said indulgently. "What is it you want me to do?"
"I don't want you to do anything," Sharon said absurdly, irrationally. "It was you ..."
"Okay. What was it that I wanted?"
"You wanted me to show you where Alan was... what he was doing ... you know!"
"Joe shrugged. "Oh?" he said.
"Yes."
"Okay, then let's go."
"But you can't go out like that Joe. Not on a night like this. I mean, it's practically freezing out there."
"And so it is," Joe said mildly. "And so it is. What would you like me to do about it, Sharon?"
"Well, the least you could do would be to put a coat on," she said. "Otherwise you'll catch your death of cold."
"And then you'd have to nurse me through it."
"Yes, I would."
"Might not be so bad," he said, staring at her rich full thighs that tapered beneath her mini-skirt into long and slender legs. "I can think of worse fates than having a beautiful nurse at my beck and call."
"Oh, Joe!" At last Sharon had had enough. "Are you coming with me or not?"
"Of course I am."
'Then get your coat and let's go!"
"Okay ... okay ... !" He got up slowly and went to the hall closet himself, then pulled his coat around him, buttoning it slowly. "All right," he said at last. "Let's go!"
The two walked out the front door, slamming it behind them, then down the front steps. They paused a moment, deciding whether or not to take the car. "It's so near," Sharon pointed out.
"Yes, but it's a cold night."
"That's what's called invigorating."
"Might be. But it's cold enough to freeze your ass off."
"Oh, Joe," Sharon said. "I wish you wouldn't use expressions like that."
"What's wrong with them?" Joe wanted to know. He grinned at his wife, amazed that she was willing to do almost anything and yet that she resented the earthy language he liked to use.
'They're vulgar, that's what," Sharon said primly.
"Okay. So they're vulgar. So I won't use them," Joe agreed. He smiled at his wife, feeling the excitement race through him that she always managed to arouse, feeling his penis lurch in his pants at the sight of her, the ache begin in his loins. So am I, he wanted to add but he thought better of it and merely followed her out to the street.
She waited patiently at the door of the car -it made Joe think of a dog waiting to be walked - and then when he opened the door she climbed in. "It's better to drive," she said as if he hadn't realized already that that was her opinion.
"If you say so, I guess it is," he said wryly and turned on the ignition. He drove to the end of the block, then braked. "Which way?" he asked.
"That way, I think," Sharon said. He followed her pointing finger, turning to the left when she directed him to, to the right when she signaled that way. And then she said, "That must be it! That house there with all the lights on."
'Think so?"
"What else could it be?" Sharon demanded.
Joe couldn't think of an intelligent answer to that and so he pulled up before the house. "Sure looks like something's going on," he commented.
"We'll soon find out" was all his wife had to say as she got out of the car.
She went up to the door and rang the bell. When no one answered she rang again. And when still no one opened the door she pushed on it herself. It swung forward and she went in with her husband following her.
The couple found themselves in a tiny hallway, almost dark. But there were eerie sounds coming from the room beyond--they took it to be a living room - and Sharon beckoned to Joe to follow her in.
The room was almost as dark as the hallway had been and it took a few minutes for them to become accustomed to it. And then they saw that a young couple - neither of them any older than Alan - lay on the couch, their quivering bodies naked, the boy's hairless loins poised above the girl's slender hips and thighs. As the couple watched they saw the boy shove his hips forward, his swollen young cock jutting forth like a stiff impaling pole. And then it had disappeared deep up into the glistening cunt of the girl who lay beneath him. She moaned in ecstasy and wound her fingers in his hair, pulling him forward, mashing her lips against his. They were both oblivious to the older couple's entry.
It was the boy's turn to moan, then sigh blissfully. He began to saw in and out of his girl friend's clasping cunt then, moving rhythmically, methodically, while she thrashed and bucked beneath him, grinding her buttocks deep into the couch in a vain effort to escape his rampaging cock, then responding to him and undulating her voluptuous naked body beneath him, rocking her hips and thighs in a primitive repetitive motion.
Sharon grasped Joe's arm, not quite believing her eyes. It was one thing to preach sexual liberty--and to practice what they preached. But seeing this young couple so lewdly fucking there before them was somehow different. In spite of all her advanced ideas, Sharon Forbes was shocked by the sight.
Her fingers tightened on Joe's arm, digging deep into her flesh, even through the fabric of his coat. "Joe," she mumbled. "Oh, Joe." And understanding her, he led her into the room beyond--the bedroom. Once again it was a long moment before the older couple became accustomed to the darkness, before they could make out the scene before them--or those involved in it. Even so, it was Carli whom Sharon recognized first. It is the young teacher, she thought. It has to be! She looks just the way Alan said she did!
Then she saw that she too, like the girl on the couch in the living room, was being fucked by a young boy who thrust in and out, groaning out his passion as he did so while the teacher responded with reciprocating moans of pleasure.
The boy's face was still turned away from the curious couple, was still hidden. And then suddenly he turned toward his mother. "Oh, my God!" she groaned. "Oh, my God! It's Alan!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
It took awhile for Joe to soothe his wife and quiet her fears. Despite her outburst, neither of the two couples in the bedroom paid any attention to their presence. And then she found that as they ebbed a new excitement pervaded her body. It was Alan there, fucking in and out of his blonde teacher's clasping cunt and all at once Sharon knew that that was what she wanted, too--that was what she had really wanted all her adult life.
Her husband, wonderful though he was, had never really satisfied her. The strangers who had fucked her had really been just that - strangers after all. What she wanted was to be fucked by her son! - young Alan - and fucked silly. She wanted to feel his tender young penis, hardened by his desire for her, press deep up into her cuntal passage, wanted to feel it push the pink ridges of flesh back before it was plowed deep into her, wanted to feel her own warm narrow vaginal walls clasping his thrusting member lasciviously.
The perversely aroused mother stood watching the boy for an instant, her excitement growing now to fever pitch as another young couple continued to fuck obliviously on the bed. She had to have this lovely young creature--wicked and evil though it was--she had to be possessed by her own son. She knew deep within herself that it was this and this alone that she had wanted all her life, that it was this that she had waited for with growing impatience. And now he was to be hers, or she was to be his.
Her glance darted to Carli, still thrashing and bucking beneath her young Alan. Suddenly she was infuriated. Who was this woman - this utter stranger--usurping her own rights? Sharon's face grew red and she began to breathe heavily. Damn it all - and damn this woman in particular. She had no right to this unbelievable pleasure. That belonged to her, to his mother. She stepped forward, sputtering out her anger and then her hands shot forward and she dug her nails into the softly quivering flesh of the unwary teacher. She let her go at last and then with a tremendous effort pulled her son away from this indecent immoral woman. She looked down on the blonde's lust-contorted face, hating her with all her heart. What right had she? What right?
Her eyes roved with longing over her son's smooth skin, over his hairless loins, over the still rigid slenderness of his throbbing penis. Oh, God! It belonged to her! To her and to no one else! And now she would have it!
She began slowly and carefully to take her clothes off, unbuttoning her blouse, slipping it off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Her skirt came next, pulled quickly down over the lovely mother's full white hips until it slipped to the floor, to be kicked violently aside. Next she unclasped her brassiere, slowly and methodically, aware that her dazed-looking son was staring at her with an expression of incredible amazement on his face. It occurred to his hip mother that he must have been doing grass again, his eyes looked so strange.
With a thrill she had never known before, Sharon's hands went down to her panties. For a brief moment she fumbled with the elastic waistband and then slowly and sensuously drew the bit of white nylon down over her hips, exposing them in all their quivering white voluptuousness. And then at last she stood naked before her own son.
Her full ripe breasts were swollen with excitement, the two small buds of her nipples pinkly erect and throbbing with anticipation.
And then she stepped forward to embrace her young - her only - child. She clasped the wide-eyed boy in her arms, pulling them close to her so that his young and eager flesh was crushed against her own. She felt an electric spark dart through her body which she knew instinctively was matched by one in Alan's, and then she pressed her quivering loins even more lewdly against his.
The young boy just couldn't get over it. His own mother was starting to make love to him. He'd always been aware of her dark full-bodied beauty, but hadn't dared dream of getting to feel it, caress it, much less to fuck it. Suddenly a surge of heated desire broke out in the boy's belly. "Mom, oh, Mom," he moaned.
And then she eased him backward, back down over the bearskin rug that covered the floor, easing her own luscious body down over his as his father and his school teacher watched dumbstruck. She stretched her hand out, moving it down over the boy's hairless loins until she reached the hard, erect shaft protruding there between his legs.
Just as Carli had before, she cradled the handful of hardened boy-penis in her hands, marveling at its strength. She pulled the foreskin back, massaging the rigid member as she purred sweet nothings into the boy's ear. And then she rolled over back onto the rug herself, twisting and turning until she had pulled her son's lithe young body on top of her own full voluptuous one. She barely breathed now and it seemed her beating heart would split her chest.
The lust-possessed mother ran her hands sensuously through her boy's tangled hair, pulling his head forward until their lips were crushed together. And then a new and wonderful thrill electrified Sharon's entire body as her own son, her beloved Alan, flicked his tongue forth to press it up between his mother's lips, to dart it deep into the warm cavern of her mouth, pausing to touch the tip of it to hers before he again shot it back toward her throat.
The mother moaned in her newfound joy, writhing beneath her son to savor every full moment of their illicit passion. An instant later Alan lifted his head - Sharon came close to weeping with disappointment--only to flick it forward again, this time fastening his mouth over the taut quivering bud of her erect nipple. Once again the joy she had felt earlier possessed her as he began to swirl his moistly teasing tongue around the trembling bud-tip, running it down the heaving cream-white mound, letting it trail along the furrow between her two desire-swollen breasts.
At almost the same time he let his boyish hand trail the length of his mother's body, down over the golden swell of her belly until at last it reached the patch of sparse dark pubic hair there between her legs. Willingly and happily she spread them wide for her darling boy and felt the gentle touch of his finger along the full palpitating lips of her cunt.
She sucked in her breath, holding it in ecstatically, as if the slightest movement on her part might break this magic spell cast over her. And then at last she let it out, whimpering with delight as she felt the boy's middle finger probe up and down her narrow pussy-lips until it found the tiny hole of her moistly clenching vagina. It teased at it a moment, slipped up inside to twist and turn, and then was withdrawn to search for the hidden nub of her erotically pulsating clitoris.
It was a moment of rapture for Sharon, one which knew no bounds, and she bucked beneath her son ecstatically, raising her loins to his as he fondled and caressed her. And then at last--at long last--the blood-engorged length of his boyish penis slipped up into her hungrily clasping cuntal passage, burrowing deeper and deeper inside. She gasped as she enclosed her baby's hardened rod there in the secret depths of her womb, moaning aloud over and over at this ultimate joy.
Her eyes were closed now and her head flailed from side to side as her own son fucked in and out, his passion mounting until it almost matched that of his mother. Her body quivered wildly, impaled as it was, and twisted at the obscene pleasure of having Alan's rampantly throbbing young cock-flesh up inside her burning loins.
Standing near the door, staring at his wife's wanton behavior Joe Forbes felt a shudder of horror seize his body. Christ! It was one thing to swap partners for a change, the way he and Sharon did with their swinging friends. But they were adults, not mere youths. And Jesus Christ! They certainly weren't related! But this--this! - he shook his head trying to clear it, to think things out but only found himself more confused--this fucking your own son was pure and patent evil. Jesus! It was incest, that was what it was, and the shocked and heartsick husband could only admit with a feeling of disgust that nothing - nothing--could have been more depraved.
But the horror Joe Forbes felt began to ebb as he watched the lewd performance of his wife and son, and now he began to burn with a slowly mounting anger that threatened to engulf him. Appalled though he was by the sight of his wife, his fury nevertheless was directed more and more against Carli Mills, the young teacher who still lay naked and frustrated on the floor near the incestuously coupled mother and son. Goddamn her to hell! If she hadn't brought his boy Alan here, if she hadn't seduced the youngster, Sharon would not have given in to her most depraved feelings and would not now be fucking her own son here in front of four other people. Not that the young couple on the bed were paying any attention. Just himself and that whorish schoolteacher.
With a sudden murderous fury, Forbes knew what he would do! He would shame and humiliate Carli Mills himself, in the most degrading way possible. She would never forget it, he thought. Never, as long as she lived.
He closed his eyes a moment, sickened by the sight of his son's quivering buttocks as they arched back above the lustful body of his own mother, then thrust forward again as he fucked relentlessly in and out. Then he opened his eyes, steeling himself for what he intended to do.
He looked down at the young teacher again, then stepped forward and prodded her with the tip of his toe. "You bitch!" he snapped at her. "You damned bitch!"
Carli looked up, seeing the sheer hatred on the older man's face, even in the dim light. A quiver of fear snaked up her spine and she moaned, "Oh my God! Who are you?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Forbes sneered down at her.
Carli's eyes widened and another tremor of fear shook her voluptuous, fully exposed body. "Who are you?" she asked again, pitifully this time.
Joe stared at her for a long moment, deciding whether or not to answer her question. And then he snapped, "I'm Joe Forbes, that's who. I'm young Alan's father."
Carli's hands went instinctively to her face, as if to shield her beautiful features from a blow. She moaned and then sobbed quietly, struggling with herself all the time to gain control of her shattered nerves, her battered emotions. At last she asked, "What... what do you want?"
Joe let out a loud and hollow laugh. "You'll find out," he said. "And damned soon, too."
Now Carli pleaded, "What are you going to do?" The drugged schoolteacher seemed to realize, at long last, that she lay naked and trembling beneath Forbes' gaze, and she began to search futilely for something with which to cover herself. She clutched at the edge of the bearskin rug, trying to pull it over her first and, when that failed, grasped at the bedspread. But due to the weight of the young couple fucking on the bed, that failed too, and she looked about helplessly as Joe nudged her once again. "What are you going to do?" she repeated, her voice choked with apprehension.
Joe Forbes stared at her once again for a long time. And then he said, "I thought maybe I'd fuck you in the ass."
"No!" Carli wailed out her terror now, not believing--not daring to believe--her own ears. And yet she knew, somehow, that this man was capable of anything. But that? That! No, she prayed silently. Please, dear God! Not that!
But she saw that Alan's father was already unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off, unzipping his trousers, easing them down over his hips, stepping out of his jockey shorts. He meant it, she thought, in a state of panic now. He really meant it! But that wasn't possible! People didn't do things like that--decent human beings didn't do such things. She looked up at him again, then groaned. Decent human beings of her age didn't seduce fourteen year old boys, either, as Alan had pointed out. Wasn't this just retribution?
She shook her head. Oh dear dear God! If only Forbes would go away, leave her alone, she would find some way to make amends. She was certain of that.
But the look on the man's face told her that he would not go away, that he would never give her the chance she craved. He was going to do just what he said - the most horrible thing she could think of. He was going to ... to ... Oh God! Only animals behaved that way!
She tried to scuttle away from him, tried to save herself by hiding ignominiously under the bed. But Forbes was too quick for her, leaning down to pin her to the floor. Alan's father was naked now and Carli saw with a gasp of horror that his thick virile cock - so different from Alan's slender young penis--was jutting menacingly out from his hairy loins, already erect and jerking in obscene anticipation.
"Turn over," he ordered. "Turn over, you goddamned bitch!" Carli shook her head helplessly, too frightened to move even if she had wanted to. Once again Forbes prodded her with his toe. "Turn over," he repeated. "I'm going to fuck you in the ass!"
Carli had begun to weep hysterically, hating herself for the weakness she was showing yet incapable of stopping. She felt herself being lifted up then and flipped over deftly, expertly, until she was lying flat on her stomach, her belly grinding into the rug as she writhed against it. Abruptly Forbes dropped to the floor himself, sinking to his knees while his body spanned that of the sobbing and quivering teacher.
He paused long enough to slash his hand against her trembling white ass-cheeks, leaving a cruel red imprint on each of them while the terrified blonde cried out in pain. And then he grasped her by the ankles and moved in between her thighs to spread her slim legs far apart.
Carli cried out once more, then bit back the bitter words that rose to her tongue. Oh, God! Protest was useless--and didn't she deserve this - didn't she really? She tried to stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks as she felt Joe Forbes spread the half-moons of her firmly quivering buttocks with his hands, exposing the tight little anus nestled in the futile clenching crevice.
Now he was probing with a stiff thick finger at the puckered little hole while Carli groaned in fearful humiliation. Suddenly he barked, "Spread your legs!" And once again his hand slashed across her struggling buttocks.
Carli struggled to obey him though they were already far apart, yet even her utmost effort failed to satisfy this half-demented creature who hovered over her. "Spread your legs," he said again, then seized her by the thighs and pulled until she was afraid she would be split wide open.
She groaned again as he pulled her legs out, pulled them so far that it seemed to the frightened young teacher that they were now almost at right angles to her body. And then she screamed, wincing with pain, as Joe Forbes abruptly plunged his finger into the tiny puckered hole of her anus.
The enraged father began to move his middle finger around, sawing it mercilessly to expand the little rectal orifice while his son's schoolteacher flinched at the pain. Then Joe brutally dug a second finger up into the tight rubbery opening, plunging the two fingers in and out like an obscene jack hammer. He continued to prod lewdly into the stricken teacher's defenseless rectum, listening to her protesting cries with the greatest possible satisfaction. He'd show her something, he thought to himself. Teach her a lesson she would never forget. Christ, by the time he finished with her she would know what it was like to be fucked by a man, a real man--and fucked every which way at that--instead of by a boy.
At last he pulled his fingers from her anus with a wet sucking noise, the pink clasping skin clinging to them. Ready now, his own rigid cock throbbing with a wild new excitement, he thundered a command: "Kneel up!"
The words fell on Carli's heedless ears and she sobbed aloud at the shameful position in which she was held. "Kneel up," Joe ordered again. "Goddamn you! Did you hear me!" He raised his hand and brought it down on one vulnerable white buttock, sending a slashing pain through her. She screamed and struggled helplessly to her knees.
"Oh, I can't," she sobbed. "I can't!"
Joe slapped her again. "The hell you can't," he spat in sadistic triumph.
Carli struggled desperately to comply, finally presenting the rounded white mounds of her buttocks up to the lewd and vengeful man behind her. And then she heard still another command, one again designed to further degrade her. 'Take my cock," Joe said cruelly. "Take it and put it in."
"Oh God, no!" Carli knew she could never debase herself so completely. "Noooo! Noooo!" her groan split the air.
"You're going to do what I say!" Forbes said between clenched teeth. "Understand!"
"No!"
"Take it. Take it and put it in."
In spite of her utter revulsion at what was demanded of her, the thoroughly cowed young woman groped for the rock-hard shaft of flesh which now rested in her split crevice. As her fingers curled around it, she realized its enormity. Good Lord! She could never take it all! Never in a million years. "No," she groaned again. "No, I can't... I can't..."
She felt Forbes' harsh fingers digging into the tops of her thighs and, with a shudder of complete surrender at the sudden pain, she placed the blood-swollen tip of his cock against the tight little hole of her anus. And then he strained forward, trying to burrow immediately into the hairless opening. At last the brown nether ring gave way before the relentless probing and the bloated tip popped inside. Carli let out another moan of pain, shrieking, "Oh no ... no ... it hurts!" But Forbes merely pulled her hips back tightly against his own loins while he rammed forward with all his strength.
The lewdly impaling rod sank deep up into her rubbery anal passage while the tormented teacher moaned again, gasping out the terrible anguish of the moment. Without giving the blonde a moment to adjust to his cruel penetration, the lust-maddened Forbes sawed back and forth, sending his rampaging cock into the very depths of the kneeling woman's pink inflamed anus.
Carli mewled and writhed, trying frantically to escape this vengeful impalement. Her nether flesh was seared and burning with the pain inflicted on her by this brutish man who seemed to have taken leave of his senses, who was hurling down his own wrath upon her as if it were the just retribution of God.
And then, at last, as he continued to thrust deep up inside her, the terrible hurt seemed to ebb and a feeling of pleasure began to creep through her masochistically responding belly. She deserved this shame and humiliation, she thought at first. She deserved this almost unbearable torture. It was a just punishment for all her sins - those sins that she had begun to commit so many years ago. And now she came to revel pervertedly in her debasement. Every new and cruel thrust brought pleasure to her--painful pleasure at first, and then a simple joy.
She wanted this! The young teacher wanted this with all her heart! She wanted to be lewdly sodomized by the father of her young student Alan, here in this room where, she was now aware, some of her other students were staring lasciviously at her. She found new ecstasy in the thought that they were watching Forbes sink his vicious passion-distended penis almost to the hilt in her tight resistant rectum.
The slavishly kneeling blonde began to moan as her pleasure grew, although she gasped from time to time as a particularly brutal thrust sent new agonies soaring through her. The sound seemed to incite Joe to even further acts of vengeful cruelty and now he grasped her undulating white buttocks in his strong hands, kneading and squeezing them until red welts appeared.
The new pain meant only new delight for the young woman glorying in her perverted lust and she began to beg softly, "Oh God! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me in the ass!"
The sound of her own voice, the lewd words falling from her lips, seemed to shock Carli herself and yet she was still helpless to stop. This was joy, this was ecstasy such as she had never known, had never believed possible. And then she knew instinctively that the best was yet to come - that wonderful moment when Forbes would thrust forward with almost superhuman force, driving his pelvis into her softly yielding buttocks as his balls swung heavily against her cunt, almost ready to explode. And then they would - oh dear God, they would! He would cum then, spurting his warm thick semen deep into her forever-stretched rectum.
She heard his groan at last that mingled with her own as she felt her quivering body rising to its climax. "I'm cumming," she gasped. "Oooooh God... Oooooh, my God! I'm cumming... !"
At the same moment Joe sent his red-hot waves of boiling sperm gushing into the depths of her belly, filling her and bringing her to completion she had never imagined possible. And now as spasms of joy ran through her body she felt the still warm fluid seeping down between the crevice of her wide-split buttocks, obscenely drenching her legs and thighs.
She collapsed limply and lay still a moment, drained of everything except the reverberating pleasure of the ultimate sensuality she had just experienced. She was no longer a virgin now--anywhere!
And then she heard other voices echoing her own recent cries of abandon here in this same room.
Turning her head she saw that Sharon Forbes lay nearby, her own thighs spread wide to accept the incestuously pummeling penis of her young Alan as it drove in and out of her clasping maternal cunt. In her overwhelming joy Carli's heart knew what the other woman's felt--the supreme moment of ecstasy which carried them beyond this mundane world and into a new and different one. It was one Carli wanted to stay in--she felt happy there as if she had been drugged into elysian bliss--but she knew that she would have it snatched from her all too soon.
And so Carli watched as Alan plunged his rampaging young cock deeper and deeper up into his mother's warmly clasping cunt while she writhed beneath him, moaning softly in her joy. And then there was the moment for the two of them when time must have stood still as it had done for Carli and Joe, when there was nothing outside the moment, the pleasure, nothing beyond. And it was then she knew that Alan's fresh youthful sperm had spurted deep into his mother's hungrily accepting vagina to mingle there with her own warm orgiastic fluids which seeped forth now to pool with those of her son and dribble down the brunette's thighs. She saw Sharon's body lie stiff and tense for a long moment and then it seemed that peace came to her and she half collapsed, lying as limp as Carli herself on the floor while her son at last withdrew his deflating penis and rolled over to lie, drained of all energy, beside his mother.
CHAPTER NINE
A long time passed before any of the people in Carli's bedroom moved. And then it was first the young couple on the bed--Judy and Tony--who suddenly became aware of the enormity of the sins committed here before them, the rising passions that had led to the most wicked and obscene of all possible acts. "Oh, man," she said, breaking the almost complete silence pervading the place. "Oh, man ... let's get out of here."
The young boy friend opened his eyes quickly, almost as horrified as Judy was. He looked around, nearly frozen with fear. Even so he managed to mutter, "Yeah, let's ..."
The two of them scrambled around for their clothes, pulling them on in the greatest haste, and then tiptoed from the room, their hearts in their mouths. What if they roused the others? But they made it to the door without mishap and, breathing a sigh of relief, hurried through the now deserted living room and toward the front door. They peered out cautiously there, afraid of being seen. But the street was clear and they scurried to Tony's car and climbed in. The boy started the motor, then gunned the machine until it shot off down the street. As they left the young teacher's house, Judy looked back for a moment, knowing that she wanted more than anything in the world to forget this moment, yet knowing at the same time that she could never blot it from her memory.
A short time later, in the bedroom, Joe Forbes stirred from Carli's side where he had lain exhausted for a long time. At first he wondered where he was and what he was doing here. His eyes roamed around the room, lighting on the voluptuous naked body of his wife Sharon at first, and then on the slim figure of his son Alan. Again he wondered momentarily why they were here--what they were doing.
He glanced then at the blonde school teacher and suddenly everything became clear. All that had happened just a short time before seemed to return to him, to pass before his eyes like a film being replayed. This time, though, he reacted with a violent shudder as the whole meaning became clear to him. He had sodomized this woman! He had subjected her to one of the most perverted, the most obscene acts possible! Oh, Christ, he thought, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and noting with surprise that it was moist with cold sweat. Oh, Jesus!
If there was anything worse than sodomy it was ...
He closed his eyes, trying to erase it all from his memory. But it was engraved there indelibly and at last he admitted it in its full horror to himself. If there was anything worse than sodomy it was incest! And yet that was exactly what his wife had just committed with his only child, his beloved son Alan.
He shook his head as if that could in some way drive away the awful images now imprinted there. But the stark and terrible facts refused to be dislodged--everything he feared had happened!
For a few awful moments he could think of nothing to do--it seemed that he was turned to stone. And then he knew that he must get away, leave this place as soon as possible.
He stood up, pulling on his clothes, still staring at the uncomprehending trio on the floor. His wife ... his son!
He couldn't leave them here, he decided suddenly. He would have to take them away, just as soon as he could.
Forbes leaned down and spoke in cool clipped tones to Sharon. "Get up," he said. "You're going with me."
She opened her eyes, taking awhile to focus them. And then his words sank into her consciousness. She turned them over and over in her mind; finally she asked, "Where?"
"Home," Joe said, balling his fist and smashing it into the palm of his other hand. "Home."
"Why?" Sharon asked, and then she covered her mouth with her own hand, sorry she had spoken the word. All seemed to come back to her, too, in all its obscenity. When she spoke again there was a sob in her voice. "Yes," she begged. "Take me home. Take us both home!"
"Alan!"
"Yes?" The boy seemed to spring to life. "Yes, Dad?"
"Get your clothes on," the father ordered peremptorily. "And quick. We're getting out of here."
"Yes, Dad," the boy said, scrambling hastily to his feet, his face turning scarlet at having been seen, of being seen as naked as he still was.
And then Joe Forbes turned to Carli Mills. But he refused to dignify her by calling her by name. "You!" he said, almost spitting the words out between clenched teeth. "You!"
The young teacher turned over, her eyes fluttering open. And then a sense of foreboding settled heavily over her. There was an ominous silence before Forbes spoke again. His voice dripped with hatred for the young woman now, with disgust and vituperation. "You whore!" he snarled. "You goddamned whore!"
Carli pulled herself to her feet, snatching a robe that she had dropped carelessly on a chair, and flung it around her. Her chin quivered pathetically and she tried to find words to calm the outraged father, to soothe his sobbing wife. But no words came and she heard only the fury of Joe's voice as he continued to tongue-lash her. "You're no damned good," he said, his voice rising to a shout now. "Never were, probably. Seducing a kid like Alan. Nothing but a whore ... that's all ... "
Carli shook her head and her mind darted back to the terrible days of her childhood, the terrible days when she had lived with Aunt Sarah. Somehow it seemed that she had heard all of this before and that seemed to make it all true. What reason was there to protest, to plead, to assert her innocence, her good intentions? No one would understand her now anymore than anyone had in the past. It was her turn to burst into tears.
She was vaguely aware that Forbes was continuing his tirade against her and from time to time some word or other struck her forcibly. "Whore. Bitch. Slut..." But the sound of her own weeping half-drowned the epithets.
And then at last he was gone, taking his family with him while Carli slumped onto a chair, the tears still flowing down her pale cheeks. She sat there a long time, knowing what she must finally do, yet not having the courage to act.
Day had almost dawned when she finally rose from the chair and dressed hurriedly. Just as hastily she threw an armful of her clothes into a suitcase, snapped it shut, and locked it.
She found her purse and dumped out the contents, counting out the money in the wallet. It wasn't much, she thought, but it would have to do. And at least it would get her out of town by Greyhound bus, which was better than being driven from here by a group of irate parents.
She slipped everything back into her purse and closed it, and then got her coat and put it on. She picked up her suitcase in one hand, her purse in the other and started for the door.
As she reached it, she remembered her house keys and took them from her purse, leaving them on the hall table. She wouldn't be needing them again, she thought. She wouldn't be coming back here.
She went out then, closing the door softly behind her. As she went down the steps it seemed to her that she was being followed by Joe and Sharon Forbes and by young Alan and that Aunt Sarah, in turn, followed them. She knew they would follow her to the end of her days, haunting her forever. All of them. Joe and Sharon Forbes and Alan, too. And Aunt Sarah.