Spud Jamison had to admit to himself that he was messing around pretty intimately with Donna Overstreet that day in history class when Miss Parks took him to old Principal Rankin's office. But it was Frani Cravens who really made his cock hot.
Sex had been bugging him bad. He'd been pretty naive up until the past summer, and some of the things he'd learned when he'd worked down at the ice plant gave him the stone ache. He sure knew now that life wasn't at all like the Cinderella story where everybody stays clean and untouched.
Clean and untouched - that was a laugh! A lot of the things he'd learned were dirty as all get-out, but he knew now they were things that happened every day, and right on his own block.
He'd screwed his first female that past summer, and it had changed him. He felt severe tensions now, and he tried to assert his masculinity in any way he could.
He liked to talk about girls and pussy, and brag about how successful he'd been. He wanted everybody to say, "Spud Jamison's a real devil with the ladies!" His ambition was to make a lot of money, drive a Cadillac, and have a string of gorgeous cunts around him all the time.
"For my money," he'd tell the other boys, "fucking is what a guy lives for!"
He hadn't wanted to go back to old Rankin's salt mine when school started, and he guessed he wouldn't have bothered if it hadn't been for his mom, and Frani, and football.
Spud was eighteen, and when he'd mentioned quitting, his mom had said, "Gilbert, you need a good education. You can graduate this year if you try. What can a boy do these days if he don't get through high school?"
He'd laughed, but it had sounded bitter. "Gosh, Mom, nobody gets an education in old Rankin's school!" he'd said. Rankin had come to finish out the term last year when the former principal, Professor Sims, got a bellyful of the way things were going and had resigned. Rankin couldn't control the kids at Valley High any better than Professor Sims had. If it hadn't been for Miss Parks, the pupils would have owned the place. He'd sighed and said, "Mom, what good is writing all them themes and memorizing a lot of stuff? If it wasn't for them, school might be fun."
Then he remembered what Frani Cravens had told him just before the start of school.
"Spud," she'd said, "I'm going to liven things up this year!" Her plans and activities as leader of the Pep Club had sounded exciting. Valley High had a solid program of football, basketball, and cheerleading. It's a part of every high school, though Spud's pop and old Miss Parks both howled that it was spending tax money foolishly.
Spud said, "Mom, I'm glad it's my last year."
"You'll be glad when you get your diploma," she'd shrugged.
Spud's mom and pop still treated him like a little kid and hounded him all the time. His mom didn't like for him to watch TV crime movies, and she worried if he stayed out late at night. She always looked anxious, like she thought he was going to blow up Fort Knox. At that, she was easier to get along with than his pop was. His pop said all Spud treasured were material success and sensory enjoyment.
Miss Parks, Spud supposed, felt the same way about him that his pop did.
Spud had never taken much to school. He felt bored, restless, and inadequate. At times, he was surly and moody. School frustrated him, and he reacted to his frustrations by aggression. Lots of other frustrated kids might have drawn into a shell, or developed headaches, but Spud clowned in class and made fun of the good pupils. He talked a lot about sex, and before he really knew what was happening, he'd gained a reputation. At least, he wasn't a nobody, he'd tell himself.
"School's undemocratic!" he'd hurled once at Miss Parks. "All you ever give us is sweet talk, like my old man! And what's so wonderful about my old man? He yaps about how he's worked since he was twelve, and helped his folks! So what's he got now? He don't even drive a decent car!"
"Gilbert, your tough guy attitude, your cynicism, your pretense at worldly wisdom, are just a facade of a rebel rebelling against himself," she'd told him.
He'd snorted. He bet the old lady hadn't been screwed in her whole life.
She hadn't seen Donna Overstreet when she'd leaned teasingly close, and her big tits, under her thin blouse, had touched Spud, burning like fire. "Spud," Donna had whispered, "you want to join our 'F' Club?"
"What's that?" he'd asked, just to bug her. Horrified, Frani had already told him how the boys were supposed to be led before the girls, their cocks hot and throbbing, like prize bulls at an auction. Then the girls would draw lots to see who got the biggest pecker for their bedroom activities.
Donna moved closer. She and Spud had a lot in common. They both craved thrills and excitement.
"Come on, Donna," he'd said, "let's have the gory details!"
Her nearness made him so uncomfortable he could hardly breathe. His cock was tenting the front of his pants.
"First, we'll all wear sweaters with a big 'F' on them," she started out.
Spud snickered and gave her a wise look.
"Okay, smarty," she retorted, " 'F' stands for Friday Night Club, or anything else your imagination wants to make of it!"
"My imagination's doing fine," Spud said.
"Each boy will be required to screw any time a girl feels in the mood."
"A woman's world!" Spud exclaimed. "But I don't mind!"
He reached under her blouse and pinched her tit, and she squealed.
That's when Miss Parks caught them.
Spud lost his erection.
"I wasn't doing nothing," Spud insisted stubbornly, when Miss Parks led him before Principal Rankin.
Rankin was a large, weary-looking man. His skin had a grayish pallor, and he was flabby. Spud thought he was trying to be God Almighty, but had failed. He remained seated at his desk, glancing up at Miss Parks and ignoring Spud completely. His face was pained, like he'd eaten rat poison for breakfast, and his eyes were a pale, watery blue. His scant hair was pasted down with some kind of grease, and his long, hooked nose looked longer than ever.
Miss Parks stiffened when old Rankin refused to stand up. She cleared her throat a couple of times, and Spud thought she would choke. Rankin invited her to be seated and motioned Spud into a chair opposite his desk.
Then he began squirming. Spud didn't like anything about old Rankin or his office. He wished he'd hurry up and bawl him out and let him go.
Glancing up at the wall clock, Spud noticed it was almost four o'clock. He was due out for football. His impatience, he figured, was only natural and normal, since thousands of fellows all over the nation were feeling the same way. Football was the only thing a lot of them came to school for.
Spud liked football and was pretty good as an end. He racked up on the basketball court, too. Man, he liked sports! And with a chick like Frani Cravens yelling her head off for you, how could you lose?
Miss Parks made an odd, impatient noise. Spud imagined what it would be like to see her and old Rankin in bed together.
Rankin straightened and gave her his full attention.
"Well," he asked, "what's Gilbert been up to now?" He spoke sharply, like he was angry at Miss Parks for disturbing him with her problems.
"I didn't do nothing," Spud said again.
Miss Parks wrinkled her funny nose and stared her embarrassment through horn-rimmed glasses.
"Sir, Gilbert Jamison was acting immoral!" she got out as quickly as she could.
That really grabbed Spud, especially the way Miss Parks blushed and jumped up from her chair. Her nearsightedness nearly tripped her as she beat it for the door. Spud laughed aloud when old Rankin called her back.
"What? What's that?" he stammered. "What's that again?"
Miss Parks' face went beet-red, and Spud felt almost sorry for her. But his thoughts were mostly on old Rankin, who lived next door to Spud and his parents in a new housing development Spud's pop had started.
Rankin didn't like it out there.
He didn't like anything.
And, most of all he didn't like Spud.
But the feeling was mutual. Rankin was full of the same kind of bull and hot air Spud's pop was, always jawing about high taxes, economic security, morals, and the younger generation. Spud's pop did well enough in real estate, but to hear him talk to old Rankin, you'd have thought he was ready to go on relief!
Spud watched Miss Parks stand first on one leg, then the other. She refused to sit down this time, and she wouldn't look at old Rankin, either.
Perversely, Spud decided to force her to tell what he'd done. That ought to be amusing.
"What did I do, I'd like to know?" he whined, looking innocently up at her.
"You know what you did, Gilbert Jamison!" she returned harshly. "That will be enough out of you!"
Spud held in a belly laugh. Pretending serious innocence, he asked, "Miss Parks, didn't you teach us in history that the law must inform a guy what he's charged with?"
That got her, just like he knew it would. He knew he'd hit her where she'd have to talk. For a moment, she looked as if the trap had sprung and caught her.
Spud sat back and waited, pleased with himself.
She turned so old Rankin couldn't see her face. "That I did, Gilbert," she said determinedly. "All right - I caught Gilbert fondling a girl in a way he shouldn't have!"
Spud snickered.
Rankin looked down his long nose and coughed.
Then he began fumbling nervously with some papers on his desk. A heavy silence hung over the office as Spud sat there, enjoying what he'd done.
But Miss Parks wasn't the type to be daunted, once she got started on a thing. She screwed up her mouth and went on, "If you would excuse Gilbert for a minute, I have another matter to report, too."
Her jaws tightened, and Spud could tell she was fighting hard for self-control. Rankin motioned him into the adjoining room, but neither Rankin nor Miss Parks noticed that he left the door ajar so he could hear.
Miss Parks had a reputation for being a bloodhound, and none of the kids ever knew how she went about snuffing out so many things. Spud wasn't exactly surprised when she began telling old Rankin about Donna's 'F' Club.
And, man, did she know the details! Rankin squirmed as Miss Parks, talking nervously and fast, rattled on. At last, she ran down.
"Mere rumors, I'd judge," old Rankin said, making a fruitless gesture with his hands. He didn't like to face any kind of problem. "Nothing to get alarmed about," he went on, trying to act undisturbed.
Spud wondered how he'd stack up in the hot-rod line. He bet his cock wasn't any bigger than a weenie.
Miss Parks flared, "I've reported it! You should make an investigation!"
Rankin scowled. He didn't like being told what to do. But he used patience with Miss Parks.
"The newspapers have too vividly described the escapades of our youth in recent months," he told her. "They've shocked and disturbed many parents. But it's simply because they have no better news -" Spud thought: That's not the song he sings to Pop! He and Spud's pop were both convinced that young folks were headed straight for hell. Screwing around a little, they thought, was very evil.
"I work with high school boys and girls," Miss Parks reminded sternly. "You're passing this off too lightly, if I may say so!"
Hell, Spud thought, who could stop her?
"Perhaps," old Rankin conceded. "But there isn't much we can do. An investigation could involve influential families and cost us our jobs. Nobody ever gets thanked for bringing a scandal to light. Anyway, why should we make it our problem when it doesn't happen at school?"
"May I point out that it does happen at school!" Miss Parks said stiffly, her lips tight. "Take this incident with Gilbert Jamison -" While Spud listened, they jawed back and forth. It wasn't very amusing, and he got to wondering about their sex lives. Rankin had a young, hot-looking wife that Spud figured he wasn't man enough for. And Miss Parks - she was about fifty - and he bet she'd never had a cock up her snatch in her life!
Finally, Rankin dismissed Miss Parks and called to Spud.
"You're over the compulsory school age, Gilbert," he reminded. "If you choose not to behave, it will be easy enough to dismiss you - permanently. You understand? At your age, you should be setting a good example. I suppose you've heard that before?"
"Yeah," Spud said, "that's my pop's theme song!"
Just then, the four o'clock bell rang. Spud thrust out his jaw. The team was playing a conference game Friday night, and Coach expected him out for football.
He reminded old Rankin.
Smiling a faint apology, Rankin went on, "I'd hate to suspend you, Gilbert. But you know the rules -" "Shit!" Spud said, "I've got to go!"
"You haven't been dismissed yet, Gilbert."
While there was a threat in old Rankin's voice, he sounded weak. Spud was getting up to leave, anyway.
The phone rang.
Rankin answered, and somebody at the other end of the line started chewing him out. The conversation got so interesting that Spud stayed and listened.
Rankin hummed and hawed and yes-sirred and no-sirred through a long telephone conversation. Finally, it ended, and Rankin cradled the phone.
"I'm going low," Spud said.
Rankin's pale blue eyes tried to nail him to the chair. "I'll dismiss you, young man, when I'm ready!" he growled.
Old Rankin wore a dirty shirt, with a button missing over his navel. Spud stared at the black hairs on his gut and gritted his teeth when Rankin started lecturing.
Then he laughed aloud.
Why was he waiting for old Rankin to dismiss him? Who did he think he was, anyway?
"Coach expects me out for football practice," Spud growled. "I'm going now!"
Rankin's anger flared. But it died shortly, and Spud supposed he was smart enough to know that Coach had a lot more influence around town than he did.
But he was trying hard to make it look like he was boss.
"You may go now, Gilbert," Rankin said.
Spud was already through the door. You didn't have to be very smart to outwit old Rankin once you got your brain in gear! A cold anger got into him as he hurried to his locker. He despised old Rankin's weakness.
"The damned old fool!" he gritted through his teeth.
As he left the building, his anger faded slowly.
His thoughts slipped back to Donna Overstreet. She even smelled of sex and the smell got into his nostrils, making the blood flow into his cock.' How he'd like to put his prong into her, push it up as far as he could! He'd never screwed Donna, but he figured she'd be a pushover.
Christ, his pecker was hard! How in the hell could it get so goddamned hard and hot so fast? It was throbbing and dripping tears for a nice, tight, juicy cunt!
He ran his hand over the front of his pants, grabbed his curving organ, and squeezed.
"Okay, baby," he told it. "Papa will find you some meat!"
He petted his hard, throbbing penis.
Jesus, he had to have a piece of ass!
Spud somewhat conquered his passion and headed for the gym to suit up. Coach Nichols would want to know why he was late, and he'd tell him plenty about old Rankin. Coach liked him a lot, and the feeling was mutual.
When he met some of the scrubs coming in to shower, he realized it was too late to report to the field. Blaming old Rankin because he'd missed football practice, he plopped down on the gym steps, feeling weak. His cock was flaccid now as a new surge of anger took over.
Inside the gym, the cheerleaders were practicing their yells.
VICTORY - are we in it?
Well, I guess! Will we win it? Yes! Yes! Yes!
Frani Cravens' mellow, sexy voice came to him above all the others. He forgot about Rankin, about Donna, and the very thought of Frani made him ache all over.
He'd dated Frani off and on for a long time, and he guessed she was the only girl he'd ever really cared for. Girls, he'd learned that past summer, were objects to be manipulated and used. Fool 'em and fuck 'em - all except Frani.
Oh, he'd teased Frani, and once he'd even finger-fucked her. She'd let him get his hand under her miniskirt, and his fingers had parted her cunt lips, then slid in. She crossed her legs, and he couldn't go in very far. She had reached out and run her hand over his fly.
"It's like a sausage," she'd breathed. "And, oh God, Spud, it's big - big!"
God, it felt wonderful, just having her feeling it!
But she shuddered and drew away, letting go of his cock.
Spud still had his finger in her pussy. He was wiggling it, making her squirm.
"Please, let me screw you," he'd begged. "How about it?" "Oh, no, Spud -" His cock was still in his pants, the head of it dripping sticky goo on his navel. He knew Frani was a virgin, and he wanted to be the first to fuck her. God, it would be good! There would be blood, but it would be Frani's blood. His white-hot finger licked up her slit, and she gasped.
"Hey, you're hot, baby!"
"You're hot, too, Spud."
Quickly, he unzipped his fly and pulled his tool out. Frani held her breath.
Spud was breathing hard as his fingers guided it, fumbling her cunt opening. She hunched away.
"Don't Spud. It's too big -" "Honey, I won't hurt you."
He never got it in, but the heat of her body got into him, and before he knew it, he felt himself ready to come. His balls were rolling beneath his swollen cock, and his cock throbbed. She rubbed the shaft with her fingers, and it spouted, shooting all over the place.
He groaned as his body was wracked with spasmodic twitchings. Then he felt weak.
After it was all over, he'd felt frustrated. It was like the time when he was twelve, and a redheaded tomboy lived on his block. She used to play football with the boys out on a vacant lot, surrounded by tall weeds. And so far as Spud knew then, football was just an innocent game.
Until -he started getting itchy feelings during pileups, a tingling sensation along his thighs, and a hardness and strange throbbing between his legs.
One time, this redheaded bombshell knocked him clean off his feet and toppled him in the dirt. He managed to look up and get a good impression of the way she was built.
He supposed a girl would get mad if a boy gawked, but this kid didn't. She just grinned and gave him a come-on look. It made a nervous flutter hop through his insides. He knew something was going on between them, but he was too dumb then to know what it was.
"You're a swell girl," he'd said, kind of sweet-like.
She'd giggled.
"I never told a girl anything like that before. Honest!" he'd said.
When she'd stepped closer, he'd wanted to run, but she had him blocked. And then that hunk of redheaded baby-fat groped him and gave him his first kiss.
Looking back, the whole thing was laughable. The kiss had encouraged Spud, so he'd put his hand over the front of her blouse and squeezed. Hard.
She'd trembled, and Spud supposed he'd been as stiff as a board. A moment later, she'd pulled him close and was trying to make him move against her body.
That had been too much.
Hot, breathless - and plenty scared - he'd pushed her away and took off like a bat out of hell. Nobody had ever told him that a girl could turn a boy into a jellyfish.
After that, Spud and the little redhead had just sort of fooled around innocently. He'd liked kissing and necking, but he'd never got around to making the whole scene. Maybe it was because they didn't know where to go to do it. Something might have developed eventually if Spud's pop hadn't started the new housing development and they'd moved.
The next girl who'd made a jellyfish out of him was Frani.
In one short summer, a beanpole of a girl had blossomed into a pretty neat figure, with ample tits and rounded hips. She walked in a way that made Spud feel hot desires which actually pained him. He felt a lot for Frani.
And the miracle was that Frani liked him, too. Sometimes, just looking at her, he'd lose his breath and go tense all over. Je-zus, he wanted her! He wanted her bad - not just a finger-fuck job, but the whole bit. Oh, how he'd like to slide his cock in as far as it would go! Let her pussy gobble it down, squeeze it with her soft, juicy pussy lips!
At the last ball game, she'd showed up in one of those brief, brief uniforms all the cheerleaders wore, and it turned him into a stick of pure dynamite, ready to explode. This year, those uniforms had been briefer than ever, and from the field, he'd spotted her in the cheering stand.
His hands had ached to squeeze around her nice, little ass.
When he'd tried to make love to her that night after the game, she didn't get mad, or anything like that. She just said firmly that she was waiting for marriage before she let any boy get in her pants.
It would almost be worth marrying Frani to get in her hole.
Spud's pop had warned him about women. But what did he know? What did he think a guy was to do - be celibate? Hell, Coach had lots of books on sex, and he'd told Spud more about screwing, and all that, than Spud's pop even knew!
He'd told Coach, bragging a little, "I've been around and can take care of myself. I know when a girl wants it as bad as I do!"
Sitting there on the gym steps, hearing Frani and thinking about her, Spud found himself getting all worked up and full of anticipation. His dick was hard again. He wanted to take it out of his pants and play with it. But he wanted worse to stick it in Frani. He did reach down and touch the head through his trousers. His whole cock throbbed, making him groan.
"How would the little lady like a lift home?" he asked grandly when Frani came out of the gym.
"Oh, Spud," she squealed, "I'd like that fine!"
From his job at the ice plant that past summer, he'd saved enough to buy an old car. It wasn't the Cadillac he'd dreamed about, but it would have to do. He led Frani to his beat-up old heap on the school parking lot, all sorts of crazy notions racing through his mind. He helped her get in.
Frani wore a miniskirt, and a low-cut blouse. Spud wanted to put his hands on the satiny crease where her firm breasts parted, but he settled for a kiss on her rosebud mouth. She'd combed her dark hair until it shone, and the face that looked up at him was vivid and rose-shaped.
A hard knot lodged in his throat, and he had to gulp it down.
He went around and scooted under the wheel. When Frani moved close, he broke out in a rash of goose pimples. As he backed off the lot, a whiff of her perfume made him wild. He switched on the radio because he didn't know what else to do.
He didn't drive Frani straight home.
"Spud, not this evening," she protested mildly. "It's Dad's lodge night, and Mom will be waiting supper for me."
But Spud kept on driving toward Lovers' Lane, which wasn't too far from town.
The warm autumn evening was darkening into night when he stopped his car in a secluded spot, under some trees. Frani looked up at him, her face puzzled. "Spud," she asked, "why did you come out here?"
It was a goofy question. Everybody knew why you went to Lovers' Lane. At school, the kids whispered jokes about it.
"Milt won't be able to play in tonight's game," somebody would say. "He's got a cold. Wonder if he caught it in Lovers' Lane?"
There would be laughter. Spud had laughed when he was a freshman, even before he knew what the laughter was about. He laughed because the others did, and he didn't want to seem ignorant, He never expected to come to Lovers' Lane with Frani Cravens.
But Donna Overstreet had been out here - with Kirk Myers - and with others. She'd told Spud about Kirk, being honest about it. Spud liked Donna, liked her as much as any other girl in school, except Frani. Donna was pretty, gay, and clever.
Tonight, as Spud started kissing Frani's mouth, her neck, her ear lobes, he got a strange, crawly feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't tell whether it was excitement or shame. His heavy, hot hands were gentle on Frani's flesh one moment, then demanding and hurting the next. He was hard as a rock as he pushed his cock under her dress and tried to spread her legs. She protested and tried to break away.
He rubbed her fanny, up under her skirt, and tried to slip her panties down.
"No, Spud, nooo -" she groaned.
"Frani," he whispered, "oh, Frani, please let me fuck you -" He knew there was something like sorrow in his voice, something lost and terrified. Frani sobbed and tried to get her skirt down, and he supposed she was going through the same tortures he was. He guessed it wasn't any easier for a girl than it was for a boy.
The longing, the hot cunt, pulled one way, and the doubts pulled another - and it didn't matter if you were a boy or a girl. You became confused sometimes and didn't know what to do.
Spud's weight upon her, Frani moved sideways across the seat. When he trembled, she pressed closer, as if wanting to comfort him - do something - anything - to quiet his pain.
His hand slid down her thigh, and his cock swelled as his fingers parted her hair, searching for her slit. It was a tiny hole. He worked his finger into it and felt it oozing juices. His hard rod throbbed.
"Feel what I've got," he ordered.
Frani put one hand around his cock and cupped his balls in the other. He felt them squirm under the skin. It was exciting.
He moved and tried to squeeze his tool inside her. "Je-zus, hold still, baby," he said, hoarse and panting.
"Please, Spud, cool it," she breathed, her voice almost a sob. "I - I don't want to do that -" Spud lay perfectly still. Then, with a groan, he flung himself to the other side of the car seat, clenching his fists and pressing his knuckles against his mouth. In the silence, he heard his own painful breathing.
"Spud," Frani said. "Spud, darling-" She reached over to touch him, and her hand fell on his arm.
"For God's sake, don't!" he cried savagely, jerking his arm away. "Oh, damn, damn, damn -" He started striking one hand into the palm of the other.
Tears streamed down Frani's cheeks, and Spud wiped them away. But more came. "I - I thought maybe it would be all right," she sobbed. "I wanted you to put it in me - and then I didn't. Oh, Spud, I'm so mixed up!"
"You and me, too," Spud sighed in agreement and baffled anger. His cock had wilted, and all he felt now was rage. He turned on Frani, blaming her for everything. "What are we supposed to do? That's what I'd like to know! Maybe we're just school kids, too young to fuck around, but we don't feel like kids! My cock gets hot and nearly kills me, and your snatch does, too! It's supposed to be wrong to make love if you're not married! Well, who's kidding whom?"
Frani didn't answer.
"Kirk and Donna have it figured out," Spud continued resentfully. "They know their way around! What's the matter -do you think you're better than Donna?"
"Of course, I don't, Spud. It's only - well - for one thing, I don't want to have a baby."
"You could take the pill -" "Spud, I wish everything was still the way it used to be."
"We're grown up now," Spud said quickly. "We're not kids any more!"
He'd never told Frani about last summer, but he'd told some of the guys at school, and they'd envied him. He'd learned about the sixty-seven varieties of screwing from his boss down at the ice plant, things that even Coach hadn't mentioned. He'd listened, hiding his ignorance as best he could. And he'd gone out on screwing parties with his boss, delivering every bit as much as his boss could.
He realized that if his folks knew what had gone on that past summer, they'd have fits. But let them! It didn't matter. He'd learned a hell of a lot of important things about life.
Spud had told Coach once, "I've got a milk-toast mother and a mean and narrow-minded old man. But what the hell!" He supposed there were other families like his own in which the mother identified the son too closely with the father, used him for the love denied her by her husband. It made Spud anxious and rebellious.
No, it didn't matter what they thought. They were married and had had their sex. Maybe they didn't even need it now. All they thought about was money, money! And bossing him. And fighting over a bridge game with neighbors one night a week. Hell, they called it the generation gap - and it was one goddamned big gap, like the Grand Canyon!
Spud used to go over to Frani's house and they'd do their homework on the dining room table, a dish of apples or cookies handy. Her folks treated them like children, too, but Frani and he hadn't minded then. They didn't know any better.
Sometimes, they'd go to a movie. Big stuff! They'd stop in the shadow of the big tree in front of Frani's house, and Spud would kiss her goodnight, quickly and softly. And then he'd say, "So long, Frani. See you tomorrow."
He didn't know much about cunts and fucking, and stuff. He'd go off whistling. That was as far as it ever went, or as far as either of them wanted it to go.
But goodnight kisses weren't enough now, after Spud's experiences of the past summer. Under the big tree, his cock would get hard as iron. He'd take Frani fiercely in his arms, the whole length of their bodies pressed together. He'd try to push his cock in her hole, but she wouldn't let him. He'd finger-fuck her a while, hoping to get her so hot she couldn't resist. But she always did.
Later, he'd go home, and up in his room he'd undress in the dark and stand by the opened window, letting the cool air caress his naked body. His rod would be hard and throbbing, and he'd feel miserable and triumphant, ashamed and proud. So many emotions would engulf him that he couldn't sort them out.
"Frani," he said now, quietly, "I've been thinking, and the way I see it, we're better off if we don't see each other so often."
He heard Frani catch her breath.
"Oh, no, Spud!" she cried.
He went on, as if he hadn't heard her. "You go out with other fellows, and I'll date other girls, It's the best way."
"Spud, I don't want to date anyone else. And I'll just die if you do."
Abrupt anger tore Spud's quietness to shreds. "Sure, you want me to take you out, give you a good time - and that's all! Hell, my cock craves pussy -" "This can't be you talking, Spud! It can't be!"
After a minute, Spud went on, not angry now, but hopeless. "Well, just being together ain't enough anymore. We get started on some heavy petting, then you make me stop. My cock swells, and I go home and can't sleep for the throbbing in it. If that's the way it's got to be, I'd rather not see you at all."
"Oh, Spud -" Frani scooted closer. Spud could tell she was as hot between the legs as he was. But, when he looked into her face, he saw she was scared.
"I'll put it in easy," he told her. "I won't hurt you."
He pulled her gently into his arms, and his hand went down to grope her pussy.
"Please, Spud, take me home," she begged. "In a minute, honey."
He had her pinned against the seat and was kissing the beautiful hollow between her tits. "Spud, don't - let me go!" He didn't.
He probed her with his hot cock, and she twisted. The close, hot feeling of her body rubbing against him made him more anxious than ever. His rod throbbed like a power engine as he held her in a vise and kissed her like he couldn't stop. He knew Frani had never fucked anybody, but he figured it was like Coach had once said, that any girl would eventually give in to a screw job if a boy worked at it long enough. Frani made no protest when he ran his hand under her skirt and groped her snatch, gentle at first, then urgently.
He went on tempting her, finger-fucking her to arouse her, promising to marry her if anything happened. Experiencing pure physical torture, he begged, "Frani, please let me stick it in you. I'm only human -" He had the head of his dick close to her opening. She tried to move away. He groaned and kissed her, and kept on begging. He made one quick stab and missed, his cock sliding down from her pussy to her asshole.
She started to sob.
Talking softly, he lifted one of her beautiful breasts out of her blouse. She held her eyes closed as he kissed the brownish nipple. She moaned, and her lips trembled. She's hot as hell, Spud thought, as he kept on kissing her tit. She writhed and began to claw at him.
He relaxed his tight hold on her arm to crouch over her, ready to ram her.
That was a mistake.
Her knee came up quickly and caught him in the stomach. Her other knee hit his balls, and pain shot through his groin, taking his breath away. He thought he'd never get it back. The pain was terrible. Gasping for air, he managed to get the car door open. He fell to the ground and writhed there until some of the pain eased away. But he still felt as if his nuts had burst.
"I'm sorry, Spud," he heard Frani say.
He held his cock and nuts, feeling so weak he could hardly move. He began to curse as he got to his feet. With what little strength he had left, he jerked Frani from his car. He yelled, "That's the dirtiest trick a girl can pull on a guy!"
There, at his feet, Frani moaned horribly. "Get up!" he ordered.
That's when she threatened him.
"You just wait until I get home and tell my father! He'll charge you with trying to rape me!"
As the sound of terror banged away in Spud's ears, he started sweating. Frani was so angry he didn't know what she would do.
Her threat made him remember Tillie Talliant, a toughie that the truant officer used occasionally to force to attend school. Several boys had fallen under her seductive spell, but they hadn't defiled her, like the law claimed they had. The boys served terms in the reform school, anyway.
Spud knew that a girl 'under the age of consent' got the full protection of the law. It wasn't fair! Maybe Tillie had been young in years, but she'd had more experience than most girls ever have.
Frani's threat scared Spud so much that he went a little crazy. He wanted to get away from her as fast as he could. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a car starting up. He hardly realized that he was driving off without Frani.
As he raced toward town, he could fairly see the story blazing from old Editor Millhouse's newspaper. Young punk attempts rape on high school girl in Lovers' Lane.
He drove around for an hour, afraid to go home.
His fear and frustration pushed him on, and he drove like a madman. When he came to a residential section, he did slow down. He turned onto a lonely street to take a short cut home.
A police siren screamed behind him.
His first crazy thought was to step on the gas and give the cops a chase. But he knew he didn't have a chance in his old car.
Now, two coppers were cruising along beside him. They forced him to the curb.
He stopped and resignedly turned off the motor, sticking the keys into his pocket. He was sure this was the end.
He was being arrested for attempted rape.
CHAPTER THREE
It's amazing how a guy's cock can shrink up when he's scared. Spud felt his rod and his balls shrivel.
One of the cops opened the door of the police car, slowly unfolded his long legs, and got out.
"Hey, kid, what's the rush?" he asked, coming up to Spud. "Don't you know there's a law against speeding?"
Spud's heart had sunk to his shoes. The relief that came made him so weak he wanted to puke. He couldn't believe it! A mere speeding ticket!
He gave a sigh as the two cops ordered him to leave his car parked at the curb and ride with them to City Hall.
As he climbed the steps of the old stone building, he kept reminding himself how lucky he was. He'd get off with a lecture, and maybe a small fine. He had five dollars in his pocket. He'd be out of there and on his way home in less than no time.
His fright had sobered him, and, as his mind cleared, he realized Frani would be too proud to tell on him. He hadn't a thing to worry about.
The taller of the two cops pushed open an inner door. Spud stood uncertainly in a large, bare room with a high ceiling. He blinked under the harsh, garish light which struck his eyes like a blow.
The door banged shut. A stocky man in shirt sleeves, who'd been propped against the wall, shot up and opened his sleepy eyes. Spud hesitated, but when the man didn't speak, he limped on past him and up to the counter-like desk on a platform at the far end of the room.
Over it leaned another shirt-sleeved individual.
"What is it?" he asked quietly.
Spud looked up uneasily, then dropped his gaze to his shoes. Finally, he looked back at the two officers who had brought him in. They motioned for him to speak. He turned again to the man at the high desk.
"I - I guess I was speeding, sir," he managed timidly.
"Guess?" the man at the desk asked. "Guess? Don't you know?"
"No, sir," Spud muttered. "I mean, yes, sir, I was speeding."
He waited, shaking inside. It seemed that everybody in the room was grinning at him.
The man behind the desk waited for Spud to continue.
"I was just riding around for fresh air," he got out at last. "Any law against that?" His anger was beginning to give him confidence.
The judge behind the desk frowned and leaned forward, spreading his elbows elaborately over the desk.
Spud was getting excited. "Look, mister, I'm not lying. I've no reason to lie. I admit I was speeding -" The man behind the desk smiled. "Did you have a girl with you?" he asked.
"No!" Spud said. "I was alone!"
"That a fact?"
"You can ask them cops!"
The man ignored that. "This your first offense?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," Spud said quickly.
"Let's see your driver's license."
Spud pulled his billfold from the hip pocket of his patched jeans. He wore a T-shirt. He took out his driver's license and handed it up to the man.
The man looked at it.
"Gilbert Jamison," he said. "You Bert Jamison's boy?"
Spud hated to admit it. "Yes, sir," he said. "I know your father."
Spud thought maybe he should feel relief. Then he figured that knowing his old man was no first-rate recommendation. He was so scared he could hardly speak.
The man turned to the two cops who had brought Spud in. "How fast was he going?" he asked.
"Sixty in a thirty-mile zone, Your Honor," one of the cops said.
The judge clicked his tongue. "Good thing no little kids were playing in the street!"
Spud was staring at a stain on the wall above the judge's head. Little kids had no business playing in the street, he thought. He wished the guy would stop trying to make a criminal case out of it.
"I didn't kill anybody, did I?" Spud flared. "It's not fair to hold me like this!"
The man drew back in sudden anger.
He turned to the man propped against the wall. "All right, Corny, you can make it fifteen bucks."
Spud spoke uncertainly while the judge looked down at him. "I - I don't have but five bucks -" "That so?"
"Yes."
"Well, you go along with Corny."
The man called Corny led him down a long corridor and into a small room. There was nothing in the room but a desk with an uncovered typewriter on it, and two straight chairs. Corny closed the door, then invited Spud to sit down. He pulled one of the chairs up to the typewriter. His voice was pleasant enough when he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and offered Spud a smoke.
"Smoking helps the nerves," he advised. "You are edgy, ain't you?"
Spud accepted the cigarette and admitted that he was.
The man struck a match, offered Spud a light, then used the match himself. After Spud blew smoke, he began to feel better. He said again that he had just five bucks.
"The boss said fifteen," Corny reminded. He leaned back and puffed genially on his cigarette.
Then he leered into Spud's face. "You like to jab the girls with that thing, don't you, kid?" He grinned as he touched Spud's cock. "Je-zus, a girl gets her crack filled with what you've got, kid!"
"I do all right!" Spud said angrily, brushing the hand away and pulling back. "You sure got a nice rod." "Yeah -" Corny made a kissing sound with his lips. "I'd like to blow your socks off."
Spud's cock was rising, in spite of himself. The way Corny was acting made him. restless. He'd never had a blow job from a guy, but he figured it might be better than jerking off.
And it might give him the chance he needed to get out of that goddamned place. He shrugged and said, "What will you give me for a lick on my lollipop?"
"What do you want, kid?" "The keys to get out of this goddamned nest!"
Corny looked disappointed. "I can't do nothing about that, kid." He stuck some paper into the typewriter and said, "Listen, now, you just answer a few questions. It won't amount to a thing."
Spud saw that Corny's cock was trying to push out of his pants. The guy was really hot. He gave Corny his name, age, and street address. When Corny wanted to know his phone number, he begged, "You won't call my old man, will you?"
"Well, son," Corny drawled, "somebody's got to pay your fine or they'll throw you in jail."
Haltingly, Spud asked, "Ain't there no other way?"
Corny rubbed his fly. Then he reached again for Spud's cock. "Can I heat it up a little?" he asked.
Spud spread his legs and let Corny take his prick out of his pants as he leaned back. His cock was only at half-mast, but Corny squeezed it gently and it hardened in his hand. "That's the goddamndest cock I ever seen!" he exclaimed, his eyes bugging out at the rod Spud had. "Shit, you must have eight and a half inches! I ain't never seen one so big! Bet you make the girls squeal!"
Spud thought: I'll stick it up your goddamned ass and let you find out! He said, "Some of them squeal a little, but they sure as hell like it up their snatch!"
Corny grinned, then pressed his mouth against the knob of Spud's dick. He went down right to the hairs around Spud's prick. His mouth wasn't tight, but it was hot. Spud sat there and grinned.
"You like it?" he asked.
"Love it!"
Spud got his gun off. It wasn't too exciting, but he made it come, squirting cream deep into Corny's throat. Then he wiped his hands and his cock on his handkerchief.
Corny had his own cock out and was jacking off. Spud watched, disgusted. Corny shot his wad in the waste paper basket.
Spud asked, "What was my lollipop worth?"
"Hell, man, that thing's priceless! Like I said, I ain't never seen one so big!"
Corny turned again to the typewriter after he'd zipped up his flap. All business again, he asked, "Now how fast was you travelin', do you think?"
Spud repeated what the cops had said. "Sixty in a thirty mile zone," he said.
Corny typed away with two fingers. He stopped typing, got up, and went out into the corridor. Spud sat there and sweat out the seconds, feeling frustrated, wondering how he was going to make Corny pay for the suck on his prick.
Corny returned, looking disappointed. "Couldn't get nobody," he told Spud. "Seems like nobody's home at your house."
"You goddamned cocksucker!" Spud swore. "You trying to double-cross me?"
"Take it easy," Corny advised. "I had a little plan to try on your pa. But he ain't at home.
Trust me, kid. Ill get you out of this."
Spud suddenly remembered it was his parents' bridge night. Maybe it was a break for him. He didn't ask Corny about his little plan, but Corny's mention of it made him feel better.
Corny got a pained expression on his face, but he still spoke kindly. "I'm sorry, kid, but I got to lock you up till we find your old man. Don't you worry none -" "You mean - you'll put me in jail?" Spud's heart pounded hurtingly against his ribs. He'd never felt such a sense of physical impotence in his life. How could a guy defend himself when he was locked behind bars?
"I ain't gonna lock you in them regular cells," Corny said.
He led Spud to another small room, similar to the one they'd been in. He told Spud to go on in, and when he did, he locked the door on him. Spud was the only person in the room, and it was lonely.
His anger and fear made him shake all over, like he had a chill. He glanced up at the single bulb which hung from a wire and only faintly lighted the room. He heard the grind of shoes on the concrete outside as Corny walked away. Sickened by the room's musty odors, Spud stood there and wondered what would happen to him.
His legs ached, and his groin still hurt from the punishment Frani had given him. He went over to the one small window and looked out into the night, feeling a peculiar gathering in his throat. Only with effort did he keep his retching down.
At last, he lay on the hard floor and tried to sleep. He kept wondering if Corny really had a plan to help him. Supposing he'd tried to call his folks again? Perhaps his pop was pacing the floor, cursing, refusing to help him out. He knew his mom would be weeping.
The floor was hard, and he couldn't relax. He wished Corny would return and tell him what was going on, at least. And then he didn't. He didn't want Corny groping his basket again. His pop, of course, would blame him for everything, like he always did. His mom would end up with one of her migraine headaches. Neither of them had an ounce of faith in him. It was that goddamned generation gap that separated them!
He dozed off, finally.
He must have been dreaming. He was with Bryce Griffin, the guy who owned the ice house. Bryce had a devilish gleam in his eyes and was always ready with a hard cock for a romp with some filly.
Spud had felt proud and grown-up whenever he double-dated with Bryce. Bryce was about thirty and knew the ropes.
One evening, just before closing time, a couple of girls showed up at the ice plant. Bryce said an ice house was no place for a hot cunt and suggested they all go for a ride after he closed up.
They did.
They'd ended up in one of the girl's apartments. Spud had followed Bryce and the two girls up some stairs. After they were in the apartment, somebody closed the door and locked it. One look at Bryce's face told Spud what was going to happen. He already had his hard tool out, and the girl he was fooling with didn't put up a fight. She just led him by his dick into the bedroom.
Spud sat on the divan beside the other girl. She said her name was Dolly. He didn't want to appear like a yokel just off the boat, but he suddenly felt clumsy. He grabbed her, and when his hands started playing games with her soft tits, she seemed all shook up.
"Spud, what's eatin' you?" she asked. She moved to the far side of the divan.
"Nothing," he said. He was beside her in a flash, again going for her tits.
"N-O spells no!" she yelled at him.
The angry sound of her voice made him jump. "I - I thought you liked me," he said.
"I do, kid. But don't work so fast. You got to let a girl get ready -" Spud felt better. He went easy, and she let him get under her blouse, all the way to her skin. He played with her tits, rolling their tips between his fingers. It wasn't until he tried to unzip her skirt that she stopped him again.
"Please, Spud - not that."
Spud was reaching the boiling point. His cock throbbed in his pants, and he had to put it somewhere. But the girl puzzled him, and caution warned him that good sex was one thing. But he didn't feature rape.
"What cooled you off?" Spud demanded.
"I like you, Spud," she said, sounding sincere. She groped and caught his prick in her hand. "Shit, you've got a big one!" she praised. "I'd like to let you stick it to me, but I can't-" Spud's mind was pretty bungled. He couldn't understand why Dolly was acting that way.
Bryce and his heifer came out of the bedroom. They both looked fucked out.
"What the hell's eatin' you?" Bryce's broad demanded of her friend.
Spud wondered then if Dolly were saving it for Bryce. He found out differently.
"Only a bum would go to bed with a married man!" Dolly exclaimed. Then she turned the knife a little harder. "Bryce belongs to his wife and three kids, not to a tramp like you!"
The girls really began clawing at each other. Spud's throat choked up, and his brain went numb. He hadn't known that Bryce was a married man.
He hadn't known much about a girl having her monthly period, either. He found out that was what was really bugging Dolly.
He woke up there on the hard floor, thinking it wasn't such a bright idea for Bryce to cheat on his little woman.
That kind of activity was for single men.
He got up from the floor and leaned against the gray wall. He let the minutes tick away. Coach had forbidden him to smoke, but he wished he had another cigarette, anything to keep down the miserable feeling he had.
The door opened.
Spud looked, expecting to see Corny. It was a stranger who stepped inside and told Spud to follow him.
The next thing Spud knew, he was in a room filled with photographic equipment. A second man in a blue uniform smiled and invited him to sit down. This guy seemed genuinely friendly, but Spud was afraid to trust anyone. The fellow adjusted the belt on his blue police uniform, then began messing with some photographic equipment.
He turned to Spud and seemed to be studying him. "You're a good-looking boy," he praised. "First offense? No police record?"
"No, sir!" Spud said emphatically.
The man was young and nice-looking himself. When he came to the desk near Spud and sat down, Spud noted how clean his hands were. There was nothing cold or severe in his manner, and Spud began to warm up to him.
The young man swung around to a typewriter and began asking the same questions Spud had already answered.
"You go to school?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. Valley High."
The man stopped typing. Facing Spud squarely, he exclaimed, "Holy Christ, you know Coach Nichols? He's a friend of mine. Play football, by any chance?"
Spud said that he did.
The man's gaze went quickly to the information Spud had given him. Looking back at Spud in amazement, he said enthusiastically, "Spud Jamison! I didn't recognize you by that Gilbert handle! Coach thinks you play a mean game!"
"He won't anymore," Spud said dully. "Not if they keep me here and I miss Friday night's game."
The man went ahead and took Spud's photo. "I'm Jake Sears," he said. He pressed a button, then added, "Well, that's it. You'll have to go back."
"Back where?" Spud asked.
Jake patted his arm. "To wherever you came from. But don't worry, Spud. This is all going to work out."
"Yeah, like they say to the bride, 'May your troubles be little ones!' " Jake's voice was gentle, and Spud wished he could stay in the photography room.
But a man appeared and took him back to the lonesome room where he'd been. The room was dark and degrading now. Again, Spud lay on the floor and tried to sleep. He must have, too, for a long time later, he opened his eyes to realize that musty daylight was filtering into the room.
He felt hungry. When he heard somebody rattle the door, he hoped it was someone bringing him food. The door opened, and a familiar voice called his name.
"Coach!" Spud cried, rushing to him.
Coach patted his shoulder. "Take it easy, Spud," he said. "Everything's going to be okay."
But Spud kept jabbering a mile a minute.
Coach let him run down.
"I'm sorry I heard about this so late," he apologized. "A friend of mine in the photo department just called me."
"Jake Sears!" Spud cried.
"Yeah," Coach said.
Spud had confidence in Coach. Coach was an influential man around town. As they started down the long corridor together, Spud thought of his folks and shuddered. Had they been notified? He was sure now that the fellow called Corny hadn't done a thing to help him out. When he got home, he'd catch holy hell.
Coach led him into the large room where the cops had brought him the night before. He looked around for that prick-licking Corny. Corny wasn't there.
But the same old judge gave Coach a warm grin, then smiled at Spud. Spud was thinking of touching Coach for the money to pay his fine.
But no fine was mentioned.
The judge nodded them out. No charges of any kind!
They started to leave.
"Wait a minute," the judge said.
Spud's breath caught.
"You get in there Friday night, young man, and win that game!" the judge ordered, winking down playfully at Spud.
"Yes, sir!" Spud promised.
"Them dumb scoundrels," Coach said on their way out of the room. "How do they think I can win a conference game with my best player locked up in jail?"
Coach drove him out to pick up his car.
"Were you out after a piece of ass last night?" Coach asked.
Spud didn't want to tell him about Frani.
"Naw," he said.
"Well, forget everything," advised Coach. "It's all over."
"Like shit!" Spud growled. "I've still got Mom and Pop to face."
CHAPTER FOUR
"Christ," Spud said aloud, to himself, "this kind of life sure takes the lead out of a guy's dick!"
He hated to go on home, but he crawled into his old heap and started up the motor.
His mom was crying when he got home. His pop started calling him every dirty name he could think of, and Spud called him a few right back.
His pop demanded to know how he'd been released.
"Coach got me out!" Spud hurled defiantly. "If I had to depend on you, I'd rot in that goddamned place!"
"You damned right!" his pop hurled back. Acting unreasonable, like he always did, he tried to make Spud say he'd done wrong and was sorry.
"You shouldn't speed, Gilbert," his mom sobbed helplessly. Turning to Spud's old man, she added, "Gilbert never done nothing wrong, he never gives me no trouble."
It was obvious that Spud's pop felt quite differently. "He never gives us nothing but trouble! Tell him to get in at ten, and he marches in at midnight! Tell him to do something, and he'll do the opposite!"
Spud knew that in attempting not to inhibit him, his mom had merely made herself anxious and afraid. Goddamn her silly Victorian restrictions! When he'd gotten too much for her to handle, she'd blamed the school.
"They keep promoting him and promoting him," she'd accuse. "And why? Just because he sits there. He can't read! I tell you, it's the school's fault!"
She kept twisting the corners of her apron. Spud's pop cursed again.
"You young punk!" he growled nastily to Spud. "You think you own the world!"
"Just give me time, and I'll slice off my share of it," Spud came back sarcastically.
His pop really lost his temper then and started slapping him around.
Spud grabbed his wrists and held them. His mom sobbed louder, begging him to release his old man. Spud felt so downhearted and miserable he turned his old man loose.
"A lot you two care about me!"
"Maybe I didn't impress upon you that the law ain't made for punk kids to break!" his pop raved.
Spud stopped listening.
It was the same old tune. Young people weren't citizens! They weren't even human!
Suddenly, Spud's pop stopped beating his gums and held out his hand.
"Your car keys, Gilbert," he demanded. "I'm taking away your driving privileges for six months."
Spud drew back.
"The hell you are! You can't do that!" "You think I can't?"
Without his car, Spud couldn't stay after school for football practice. The new housing project where they lived was some distance from town, and there wasn't even a bus line out to Doomsville. Nothing but married couples with bawling kids! He'd have no way to get to his week-end job at the ice plant. He'd have no way to cruise around, looking for pussy. Hell, he'd have no social life! He might as well be back in jail!
He looked at his mom. She might have helped him out, but she couldn't stand up any better against his old man than he could.
"Your car keys, Gilbert," his pop repeated.
Spud took them from his pocket and threw them on the floor at his pop's feet.
"Pick them up!"
"Kiss my ass!" Spud gritted.
He shrugged his broad shoulders as he turned and went upstairs to his room, the room his old man thought he ought to be everlastingly grateful for. It was just a room, nothing at all to excite anybody.
He sat on his bed and tried to hold back his anger. He wanted to let every inch of his six-foot frame go and bawl like a baby. He stretched out on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut to close out the world. He heard his pop start up his car and knew he was going to work. Other sounds told him his mom was in the kitchen preparing a breakfast he wouldn't be able to eat. Experiences like he'd gone through just naturally take away the appetite.
He lay there, trying to think of nothing. But Frani sneaked into his thoughts. Maybe he ought to talk to Coach about Frani. He could talk freely with Coach. But just mention a girl around his folks and he'd start a catastrophe! They acted like he ought to be afraid of women. They thought a girl who smoked was a downright whore, and they didn't dream that kids liked to fuck around, the same as married folks. They looked up to teachers - even old Rankin.
Spud had tried to tell his mom that girls had more freedom now than they'd had in her day.
"You think I'm ancient, don't you, Gilbert?" she'd come back at him. "You don't believe I ever was young, do you?"
He didn't answer. But the truth was he didn't. Everything ht did was wrong. His folks didn't understand him. They didn't even try to! A lot of the other kids felt just like he did, and maybe that's why they banded together in clubs where they could command respect, consideration, and attention, items they couldn't get at home.
He felt tired, hot, and dirty, after his night in jail.
He got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower.
He got under the shower and stayed longer than he intended to. The warm water, running over his body and down his crotch, did something to him. He felt his cock, hard and thrusting up. He reached down and rubbed it, grasped it, and squeezed.
His breath hissed as he rubbed his heavy, swollen prong and massaged its head. He got himself into an agitated state, trembling and panting.
"Shit!" he said, letting go of his cock, reaching up to turn on the cold water.
The cold water wilted his penis and quenched some of the fire that burned in Spud. He stepped out of the shower and saw in the full length mirror on the door that patches of hair clung to his chest like dark gauze. A heavy growth of hair traveled from his belly down to his crotch, where pubic hair fanned upward in abandon.
His big organ emerged from encircling curls, past his heavy testicles, each perfectly shaped. Lots of guys with big bodies left something to be desired in the cock area, but not Spud!
Proudly, he stared at himself. He couldn't help it! He was beautifully endowed, and it made him a little heady as he continued admiring himself. The whole of his organ, its length, shape, was well-made. The head was smoothly rounded to perfection. He studied his cock's minute details, the coloration, the veins, the relaxed foreskin, before he began toweling vigorously. The motion, causing the heavy swing of his dick, revealed the thick cord underneath.
"Damn!" he said aloud, wanting desperately to fondle it again. He felt nervous. He used to relieve himself that way - before he'd had a woman. It was nice that way, when a guy didn't know any better. But jacking off only frustrated him now, and he wanted none of it.
He finished toweling, folded the towel and hung it on a rack. With a free, swinging walk, he went into the bedroom, opened the bureau drawer, and pulled out a fresh pair of briefs.
He was reluctant to put them on as he feasted his eyes on himself. But finally, he slipped into them and put on a short-sleeved sport shirt. He took his time getting into his pants. When he was finally dressed, he lay down across the bed.
He put his arms behind his head and lay with his ankles crossed, wiggling his toes. He lifted his back, unconsciously, and his basket arched upward, a huge mound. Jesus, he needed a cunt! He lay there and called up the image of Frani, pretending she strained toward him with outstretched hands. He recalled his image in the bathroom mirror, imagining Frani before him, both of them naked. His cock throbbed.
He was ready for activity. Action, man!
When he heard his mom coming upstairs, he rolled to one side to hide his erection. She knocked on the door and called, "Breakfast, Gilbert."
"I'm not hungry, Mom."
"You should eat something."
"Mom, I don't want anything! Can't you understand?"
He began raving about how his pop had acted, and his thoughts cooled him. His cock had wilted by the time his mom opened the door and came on in.
"You should be ashamed of the way you talked to your father!" she scolded. "Now, you'd better come eat and get ready for school."
"Mom, I'm not going to school!"
"And why not, Gilbert Jamison?"
"I ain't gonna walk, that's all!"
Yet, Spud wished to see Coach - and Frani. He wanted to ask Coach if there was anything wrong in feeling the way he did about girls, especially Frani. And he was sorry for the way he'd treated Frani, and he wanted to apologize. It was wrong to force a girl if she wasn't willing.
His mom begged.
Spud clammed up.
Finally, she shrugged and left his room. Spud lay on the bed and thought about going down to the phone and calling Frani. But his mom would be all ears, so he gave that up, though Frani stayed in his thoughts until his cock hardened again and he went half-crazy with desire for her.
He decided he was hungry.
When he sneaked down to the kitchen, Hazel Rankin was there, drinking coffee with his mom. By the looks on their faces, he knew they'd been discussing him.
As he poured himself a cup of coffee, his mom gave him a sheepish smile. Not willing to relinquish his anger, he ignored her and stared at Hazel.
Maybe it was those tight shorts she wore, or the way she was sitting. He'd always thought Hazel was a pretty good looker, but he'd never realized before what a genuine knockout she was. He supposed he'd always associated her too closely with her mangy old husband. But, man, she had perfect legs and thighs! She must have been years younger than Rankin. Spud wanted to slide his hand over her bare, silky flesh, fondle her nice tits under her tight, thin blouse, and part the lips of her cunt.
"Your mom tells me you're the original hard-luck kid, Spud," she said.
Spud blushed.
But her eyes held sympathy, and when they flashed admiringly over his wide shoulders, he didn't object to her call him "kid."
She added warmly, "I'm sorry, Spud."
His mom's mouth was all screwed up. "He did wrong, and he's got to be punished," she said piously.
There beside Hazel Rankin, his mom looked old, and Spud wondered why Hazel bothered to visit with her. They had nothing in common.
But then Hazel didn't have any friends in the neighborhood on account of her crabby old husband. A lot of other people didn't like old Rankin any better than Spud did.
His mom kept gabbing, making Spud feel awful.
"Gilbert's father took his car keys away from him," she told Hazel. "He speeded -" "I know," Hazel replied, looking sympathetically at Spud. "I heard you all discussing it this morning." She winked at Spud, like she was on his side. He blushed because his mom and pop had yelled so loud that the neighbors had heard. "Maybe you'd better change your handle from Spud to Speed, eh, kid?" Hazel teased.
He liked the way her blue eyes sparkled, the way she tossed her blonde head when she turned back to his mom.
"When you get right down to it," she said, "almost everyone has speeded."
"That's right!" Spud agreed, grateful for her support. Though his mom frowned, he went on accusingly, "Pop speeds lots of times, only he's sneaky about it! Grown people can break the law, but just let a teenager do it, and there's no justice!" An ugly bitterness was again getting into Spud.
"That's enough, Gilbert!"
His mom went over to the stove and began doing something. It was her usual way of ending an argument.
When she finally turned back, she said, "Gilbert, you'd better go and get ready for school."
"Mom, I told you I wasn't going to school!"
"You'll have a lot of make-up work to do," his mom reminded.
"Cut it out, Mom!" Spud growled, hating the way she acted in front of Hazel. "I'm not a baby! I'm eighteen!"
"And mature for his age, too, if you ask me," Hazel added, admiration in her eyes, as she laughed to show pretty, white teeth.
She stood up, and Spud noticed how slim her waist was, how beautifully her hips rounded out. He caught himself gawking and hoped she hadn't noticed.
But their eyes met, and he knew she had.
She wasn't angry. She laughed again, as if they shared an intimate secret. Her laugh was deep, full, and sexy. It seemed to come from the bottom of her throat and sounded inviting. It made Spud's cock begin to rise.
She said, "I don't think you need to worry about Spud, Mrs. Jamison. I bet he can take care of himself."
Spud thanked her with his eyes, noting her lips were red against her teeth and tanned skin as she smiled. Her eyes clouded, and she said softly, "I wish I were eighteen again. I'd know better than to get myself tied down."
Spud's breath caught. His mom grunted her disapproval.
"So you're foolish enough to wish you were a giddy eighteen!" she scolded mildly. "And you not out of your twenties yet, I'd bet a dollar! You with no kids, and a man who lets you do as you please!"
There was envy in her voice. Spud hadn't known she envied Hazel.
Wistfully, Hazel said, "I wish Ronald was more friendly to people. You're the only neighbor I've got." She sighed her loneliness. "Ronald's up at school or out of town on school business practically all the time." Her manner changed, and she went over and put a gentle hand on Mom's shoulder.
"Listen to me gripe," she said, trying to laugh. "Me, with hardly anything to do! And you take care of this house, and two grown men - and do a lot of club work besides!"
"Two grown men!" Hazel had said. At least, Spud thought, she didn't consider him an infant!
He had to admit that his mom did work pretty hard. She was a fussy housekeeper and drove herself with volunteer club work, PTA meetings, and all that crap. She looked tired a lot of the time, and Spud began to feel guilty about it. She did a lot of work for him. But he hated the way she babied him, hated living out in Creepsville, a hundred miles from nowhere. But he shouldn't take it out on his mom.
It was all his pop's fault!
He was trying to think of something nice to say to his mom, when Hazel interrupted. "Well, goodbye," she said. "Thanks for the coffee."
Spud watched her leave, fascinated by the way she walked. How did old sourpuss Rankin rate a piece of ass like that?
After Hazel left, Spud's mom ignored him and got busy washing the dishes.
Spud went back to his room and fell across the bed, his thoughts now on Hazel. Man, he bet she was hot cunt! It was as though he'd made a wonderful discovery, and little by little, his troubles diminished until they didn't seem real.
But Hazel was real!
He ached to stick his prick in her, wondering if the hairs around her pussy were blonde, like her head, or black. He began to compare her with Frani. What a contrast those two made!
He got a painfully hard erection as he wondered why he'd never really noticed Hazel before. He supposed it was because some of his dislike for her old husband had transferred to her.
But, shit, she wasn't at all like her mealy old man! And now, he was aware of her in a way that scared him some, but excited him a lot more.
Je-zus, how he'd like to cram his hot cock up her snatch!
He got up and looked out the window. Hazel was emptying garbage, and when she raised her arms, Spud thrilled to the way her bosom lifted, like Frani's, only bigger, and a lot more mature.
His thoughts disrobed her shamelessly, and she stood out there, naked and beautiful, her flesh like ivory, with a triangle of dark onyx between her wonderful legs.
His cock throbbed. It was pushing hurtingly against his briefs. Until Hazel went back into the house, Spud could hardly get his breath. He had to lie down again. He closed his eyes.
He let his dreams take over.
Jez-us Christ, was he going to come in his pants?
He rolled over on his belly and mashed his cock into the mattress. After a minute, the throbbing stopped, and Spud could breathe again. He didn't know why, but he began thinking about something that had happened last summer. Bryce had taken him to a whorehouse, and it had been his first experience of that kind.
The whole scene came back to him. The place had been jumping, all the girls operating at high pitch. A couple of them had groped Spud, and he'd laughed.
"It's wild tonight!" Bryce had said.
"Crazy!" Spud had added.
Bryce explained the situation. "Some of them girls do it thirty - forty - times a night, with different fellows. If a guy wants a lay-down job, they've got rooms in back. Ten bucks for half an hour, whether you get your gun off, or not. Want to try it?"
Spud didn't fuck anything that night. He figured that a girl who had been screwed a dozen or more times before him wouldn't be much good.
His thoughts came back to the present, and Hazel. He wondered how many times she could take it stuck up in her in one night. Christ, he figured he could screw her forever and never get enough!
It had been hot in the whorehouse, and the whole place had had a bad smell. A ceiling fan buzzed, failing to do more than fan in more hot air. He and Bryce had taken a table. They'd ordered cool rum drinks as they watched guys pair off with girls and head for the back rooms.
Spud had had about three drinks, and everything had gone fuzzy. Bryce started urging him to go to one of the back rooms.
"Hell, no!" he said. "But you go ahead, if you want to. I mean, if you're like hot and have to."
"That's the trouble. I'm too hot for a bed job.
I'd lose my load right away, and it wouldn't be worth the money."
"Me, too," Spud had said. "Too hot to last."
Bryce didn't drop the conversation. He'd pushed back from the table so Spud could see everything clearly. His hard, hot cock was outlined inside his pants. Quickly, he unzipped with trembling fingers and yanked his dick out. "Man, I've got to do something with this goddamned thing!"
He spit on it and began masturbating.
Spud grinned. He felt Bryce press his leg hard against his. He had stopped masturbating.
"Woow - eee," Bryce said, "I gotta piss! Where's the men's room?"
He got up, and Spud followed him through the noisy, pushing crowd, a surge of excitement getting into him. The dimly lit men's room was empty. Bryce led the way to twin urinals, unzipped his fly, and pulled his cock out. He weaved to and fro before the urinal, unsteady on his feet. Spud felt high, too.
"I got to piss so bad it's flooding up into my mouth!" Bryce said. "But I can't! Hey, look, I'm hard as a piece of steel!"
Bryce had a cock as big as Spud did. He was drawing Spud's attention to it, an enormous, tilted tower of flesh.
Spud had his own dick hanging out, pointed into the urinal. He, also, was getting a pretty stiff erection.
"Whattsa matter?" Bryce asked. "Can't you piss?"
"I guess not," Spud told him. Bryce reached over and groped him. Spud pulled back. Damn, didn't Bryce realize the door might fly open at any time?
"Fuck, you're hot, too!" Bryce lowered his head, concentrating now on his own erection. He began to jerk it. "Ahhh," he sighed, continuing to beat hell out of it. "Get with yours, Spud," he said.
"That's for kids!"
Bryce beat his like crazy until he shot off in the urinal. Then he zipped up.
They left the whorehouse, and outside Bryce sighed and said, "A guy can get the stone ache if he don't get his nuts off sometimes. Hell, I wish now I'd banged one of them girls!"
"Why didn't you?" Spud asked.
"Hell, I'm married! Shit, that's not the reason! I just like the old hand machine sometimes!"
Spud lay on his bed and told himself that, after all, sex was natural - simple. Why complicate it? Let a guy enjoy his kicks in his own way. Some guys liked pussy. Some liked a blow job. Hell, some liked it any old way. His hand began inching down his leg before he realized it. When he realized what he was doing, he drew it back. Let Bryce have it that way if he wanted to! Spud would hold out for a hot, juicy slit!
He kept his eyes closed and imagined Hazel's red lips on his. His excitement grew and became almost unbearable. He pretended to slip his tongue between her teeth and caress the inside of her mouth until she went crazy for him. His cock throbbed with the painful stirrings of desire.
His thoughts became fiery real. When he could bear the teasing hotness no longer, he got up and shucked out of his clothes. He kicked them away and stared into the mirror, admiring his hard cock, the dark hairs on his chest.
Then he took Coach's advice for such occasions. He headed for the bathroom and took a cold shower.
When he went back to lie on the bed, he felt some relief. Thoughts of old Rankin came, and he couldn't chase them away. Old Rankin looked mean and angry.
But in real life, he gave you mostly the impression that he didn't have guts enough to stand up to anybody, or for anything. Spud wondered about his sex life with Hazel and bet Rankin couldn't satisfy her!
He'd heard his mom and pop discussing the subject once. "Rankin probably has ulcers from living with that broad!" his pop had declared.
His mom had taken Hazel's side, of course, not knowing that Spud was listening. "If anybody's got ulcers, it ought to be her!" she'd defended. "That man's cold and unfriendly, and I just bet he ain't a real husband to her twice a year! He leaves her sitting home by herself all the time!"
"She shouldn't be hanging around here!" his pop had said flatly. "She spells trouble, and I've got troubles of my own!"
Meaning me, Spud thought angrily.
But if his pop had troubles, he should have stopped to consider Spud. He was virtually a prisoner without his car, confined to his home like he was in jail.
About all he could do was dream in the privacy of his bedroom.
But now he had Hazel Rankin to dream about.
CHAPTER FIVE
In the middle of the afternoon, a car horn honked out in front of Spud's house. He got up and went to the window. Frani sat under the wheel of Coach's old wreck, bearing down on the horn.
He opened the window and yelled down, "Cut the music! I'll be down as soon as I put my pants on!"
A gladness got into him as he dressed, then hurried expectantly down to see what Frani wanted, happy for the chance to talk to her.
"Get in," she ordered curtly. "Coach wants you out for football practice."
She sat stiffly under the wheel while Spud climbed in beside her. His happiness vanished.
"Frani," he started out, "I'm sorry about last evening. I - I want to apologize."
"Forget it, Spud," she said sharply. "And don't get any false notions. My picking you up is a favor to Coach, and not to you!"
That froze Spud.
As they jogged along in silence, he wasn't at all sure Coach's old heap was going to make it back to school.
"Coach ought to get himself a new car," he told Frani, hoping to thaw her out and get her to talk. "His wife's about to have a baby, and he might need it."
Frani just grunted something, and Spud knew she was sore through and through. She turned a corner, and the car tilted, throwing Spud against her. He hoped the maneuver had been purposeful, but she gave him a fierce glare, and he moved away. He sat in silence the rest of the way to school.
When he suited up, his hands shook over Frani's cold treatment. He went out for practice, but he didn't do any good.
Coach called him aside.
"What's eating you, Spud?" he wanted to know.
"I guess it's Frani," Spud told him. Then he related how he'd tried to make her give him some pussy.
Coach grinned and whistled through his teeth.
"That would be worth working for," he said.
"I just made her mad," Spud answered glumly. "She won't even talk to me." Then he looked Coach straight in the face. "Coach," he asked, "is there something wrong with a guy who wants to fuck all the time?"
Coach winked at him. "Not a thing, Spud. Not a thing."
Spud went back to the football field and did okay. He felt a lot better. He knew a lot of the other guys were screwing around, too. They talked about it in the locker room, and some of them related the details of their experiences. Spud was sure some of them made theirs up.
When practice was over, and Spud was under the shower, his thoughts turned again to Frani. He decided he still loved her. But, hell, sex was a part of love, wasn't it? A hell of a big part! When he thought of sex and Frani, it was pleasant, but different somehow than when he thought of Hazel Rankin. He recalled now how she'd looked, standing in his mom's kitchen, letting him know she was on his side.
He began to feel excited. Christ, how he'd like to fuck her! Ram his cock up until its head shot out of her mouth! He bet old Rankin had a pint-sized weenie, and he bet Hazel had never been screwed by a big, hard cock! Shit, he was getting an erection! Hard as a coconut! And it wasn't Frani now who was burning him up.
It was Hazel Rankin.
Other guys were taking showers, too, so he turned to the wall so they wouldn't see his stiff erection. He stood there and let the warm water trickle over his body, thinking how much he wanted a piece of ass. Kicks! His rod stuck up Hazel's snatch! And, all the time, he knew he wanted more. He wanted love, along with his fucking. He wanted Frani.
Coach started past him, but stopped. "Something wrong, Spud?" he asked.
Spud didn't want him to see his hard dick. He kept his front to the wall.
"I'm okay," he said. "I'm just fine."
But Coach lingered, and he felt his eyes on his bare ass, taking every detail in. Spud still had his hot erection, right up with the best of them. Hell, he thought, let Coach look if it gives him a buzz! He was in a condition that all guys got into from time to time. He turned, and his dick jutted out in Coach's direction.
And Coach looked!
His eyes bugged. He drew a long breath, then whistled through his teeth. He licked his dry lips.
"Wow, man, you're hot! Right?" "Right," Spud repeated. He guessed it was the first time Coach had ever seen him hard. "You sure look good, man."
"I feel good, too," Spud said, and grinned. He touched his erect joy stick, throbbing with desire. He wondered now what condition Coach was in, but he didn't dare look.
Luckily, the other fellows were paying no attention. They began to leave the shower room, one by one.
But Coach stayed.
When they were alone in the shower room, Spud looked. Coach's pants had tented out.
"Damn," Spud said, "you're hot, too!"
Coach nodded, he unzipped his pants and guided his hard cock out.
He didn't have anything like the tool Spud had, but it was throbbing and dripping. "Jesus Christ," Coach swore, "my cock's begging for a wet and gaping slit! My wife's pregnant, you know, and it hasn't had any pussy for I don't know how long!"
"Fuck it with your hand!" Spud said.
"Single fellows are pretty hard-up guys, too, I guess," Coach said.
"Yeah, I guess," Spud answered.
"Don't you know?"
Coach was pumping his dick with his hand, and Spud could tell he was building up to a climax. He fucked his cock with his hand until he shot his wad. He groaned as he put it back into his pants.
"It's a hell of a way to get your nuts off," he told Spud.
Spud nodded his head in agreement. He got out of the shower and quickly toweled himself, then dressed as fast as possible. When Coach offered to drive him home, he refused the invitation.
He walked home alone that evening, puzzling over Coach. He finally decided that, since Coach's wife was about to have a baby, he was suffering from lack of sex. He'd pumped his cock for release, nothing else. After all, that was pretty normal.
The minute Spud opened the door to his house, his old man shook his fist in his face. The old anger shot through Spud again.
"Where've you been?" his pop demanded. "Who brought you home?"
His pop could never ask just one question. He had to know it all at once!
"Which do you want to know first?" Spud asked tightly.
That really burned his old man.
"None of your smart lip, young man!" He shook his fist in Spud's face. "Answer me!"
"I went to football practice, and I walked home! Anything wrong with that?"
His pop's face turned white as he started lambasting Coach. "That man ain't fit to be guiding young people," he bellowed. "I've got a notion to write a letter to the newspaper about that man!"
Spud gulped. He knew that if his pop did, old Millhouse would print it, and it might cause Coach a lot of trouble. Millhouse was as radical as his pop was. They were the only enemies Coach had in town.
"Coach didn't do anything to make you strain a gut!" Spud defended.
"You stay shy of that man! And let me tell you something else! Being a big football hero ain't gonna make you rich!"
Spud's mom heard them yelling. She stood beside her husband, wringing her hands in her apron.
"You shouldn't talk to him like that, Bert!"
She was trying to defend him, Spud knew, and he appreciated it. But nobody could stop his pop when he got into a rage.
"Coach Nichols didn't have no right to stick his nose in when you got arrested for speeding!" he raved on. "I could make him trouble over it!"
The old man's anger was sliding from Spud to Coach. He was against athletics and said the School Board didn't have any right to pay Coach a salary, and that Coach was as big a punk as Spud was.
Spud's mom was sobbing. Spud couldn't stand her tears any more than he could his pop's unreasonable, degrading ravings, so he went out and sat on the back steps.
Somebody called his name.
He looked to see Hazel Rankin framed in the hedge. She was smiling at him.
"What's bugging you, kid?" she wanted to know.
"My rotten home life," Spud confessed, his throat tightening.
"Well, come on over," she invited. "Ronald's off somewhere on school business, and I'm all alone. I guess my home life's not any better than yours is, eh, kid?"
Hazel made him feel they had a lot in common. She understood him and sympathized. He got up and followed her through her back door, into her kitchen, enjoying the way her hips moved when she walked.
"Come into my parlor," she invited, and Spud knew she was quoting an old nursery rhyme. She led him into her large living room, much like the one in his house.
There was a large fireplace at one end of the room, and a thick turquoise carpet on the floor. The furniture was upholstered in turquoise and yellow, and Spud supposed it was to compliment Hazel's blonde hair. Though the room was cheerful, he still felt rejected and alone.
Hazel invited him to take a chair, then sat in front of him, leaning forward and putting her hand warmly over his.
"You're having a bad time, Spud, I know."
Her voice was throaty and full of understanding. The touch of her hand sent Spud's blood boiling through his veins. He squeezed her fingers, and she returned the squeeze.
She didn't object when he leaned forward and impulsively kissed her. So he kissed her again, then buried his face between her tits.
She let him remain that way.
He heard her heart pounding violently and wondered if she was as aroused as he was. He felt his cock throb into a hard-on, making his pants tent out.
He guided her hand. "Feel it," he said.
She felt it and laughed softly.
Spud's passion burst into flames. He groaned as he unzipped his pants and took his cock out. Holding it in one hand, he groped for Hazel's burning pussy with the other. Man, she was white-hot between the legs!
"What do you want, Spud?" she asked hoarsely.
"Shit, the same thing you want!" he answered boldly. "But, get this: I don't chase females, and I don't play games! Either I jab you soon, or I pull out of the race!"
"I'm not worth chasing? Is that it, Spud?" Hazel pouted. "You try this rooster stuff on all the girls?"
"I fuck all of 'em I can!"
Hazel giggled and moved close to him. Her breast touched his arm as his hand slicked down her silky thighs to grope her cunt. "Jesus," he groaned as she kissed him hotly.
She made little animal noises in the depths of her throat as Spud dragged her skirt up. He pulled her down in the chair and straddled her.
"God, hurry up -" she breathed in his ear.
He guided his hot cock into her wet, gaping slit with trembling fingers, feeling it sink into her mysterious flesh.
She gasped and groaned.
"Oh, God, Spud, you're big!"
Spud felt her frantic struggles to get more of him in her snatch, to set up friction. Je-zus, she was fucking him!
He held her hips, held his cock in her, as he dragged her to the floor. She was like a crazed thing, rocking and panting, and heaving. She was satiny and firm, and her ass under his hands was perfect and round. Her cunt was tight and seemed to suck him.
She was coming, bouncing and writhing, pushing upward with all her strength. Her actions were so delicious, her lovely body so impelling, that Spud creamed while she writhed under his cock, rubbing herself on him. God, she was wonderful!
He rested only a few seconds, then fucked his cock into her again, hearing her moan with pure pleasure. In a minute, he felt a funny sensation deep down in his balls - then it came to a white-hot rapture, and his sperm spurted out, driving him crazy.
Hazel cooed and giggled under him, still bucking and panting. The smell of sex got into his nostrils, and her grasping cunt kept milking at him.
His cock withered and slipped out of her. She groaned, reached for it, and tried to revive it with her fingers.
"Je-zus, you still want more?" Spud asked in a whisper.
Her tongue shot into his mouth. "Hell, don't you?" she asked.
She kept fooling with his prong and got it a little harder. She tried to guide it back into her snatch, and Spud pushed it in. He didn't feel the tightness he had before. "Is it in?" he asked.
"Yeah," she giggled. "Can't you tell?"
Spud grunted. He didn't want to tell her he was all fucked out, that he couldn't get his cock any harder. He felt it wilt inside her and knew she was disappointed. What a goddamned woman! How could she stay hot so long?
When his dick came out, she began acting moody.
"You okay?" Spud asked.
"Gawd, I never had such a fuck!" She reached over and patted his shriveled organ. "Christ A'mighty, you got a big dick!" Then she sort of shoved him away.
"You want to get rid of me now?" Spud asked.
"I'd like to keep you forever, sweetie."
Once more, Spud was beginning to feel his passion rise. "Then let's go upstairs and do it on the bed."
Hazel stood up. "It will have to be a quickie. I don't want Ronald -" "Come on," Spud said. He had an immense hard-on now, an erection that wouldn't quit. Hell, he figured he could fuck Hazel all night!
Up in the pink bedroom, Hazel passed in front of him to check the blinds. Her body was curvaceous and full, womanly and challenging - and so hot it could melt a guy's dick. Hazel came back and stood invitingly before him. Then she turned, bent, and looked up at him from between her legs. Asshole, pussy, mouth - all showed. "Take your choice," Hazel said.
Spud speared at her with his cock. "Eat it!" he commanded. Hazel unwound and went to her knees, taking his big dick in her hands.
"Goddamn it, do something!" Spud cried. "Like this?"
She took his big, hot prick into her mouth. A kind of rage and desire fused together in Spud, mounting to an uncontrollable passion. This was the wildest sex he had ever experienced. He couldn't stand Hazel's tickling his cock any longer, so he pulled it out of her mouth.
"Didn't you like it?" she asked.
"Shit, yes, I liked it!"
He pushed Hazel onto the bed, and then-tangled arms and legs were caught up together in a web of pleasure. Hazel gasped when he pushed his hard, hot rod all the way in. Mouths glued together, Spud started pumping in regular rhythm.
"How's it feeling?" he asked. "You like it?"
Hazel moaned her pleasure.
Underneath Spud, she was a panting animal, unadulterated fire. The ecstasy Spud felt was both wonderful and painful in its intensity.
Hazel's heavy breathing lifted her tits. "Oh, hurry, Spud," she begged. "I can't bear it any more!"
Spud dug his fingers into Hazel's back as he felt his climax coming. He exploded deep inside her and thought his cream would never stop coming. He gasped and went limp as his cock shot its last bit into Hazel, and then wilted.
Almost at the same instant, a car pulled into the driveway, its headlights momentarily brightening the room.
Hazel jumped to her feet. "It's Ronald!" she gasped. "He'll come in the back way. Hurry out the front door!"
Spud grabbed up his clothes, and the next thing he knew Hazel was shoving him down the stairway. He managed to get into his briefs and pants and carried his shirt and shoes. He heard Rankin open the back door just as he reached the front porch. He hoped Hazel had covered up everything in time.
He slipped across the front lawn in his bare feet. His fright gone now, he felt drained and weak. He said aloud, "Rankin, old man, you'd better have a stiff cock tonight! Your wife is primed!"
He sat on the back steps to put on his shirt and shoes, before he slipped into the house. He hoped neither his mom or pop would see his face.
They were both in the living room he would have to cross to reach the stairs. His mom was mending. His pop was reading his newspaper. His pop didn't look up, but his mom did.
"Good night, Gilbert," she said.
Spud took a deep breath. Up in his room, he didn't know how he was going to live through the night. Lying naked across the bed, he couldn't drive thoughts of Hazel out of his mind. His cock was hot and hard, and he kept wondering if old Rankin was screwing Hazel.
His thoughts were torment of the very worst kind.
He spent a restless night.
The next morning, he didn't go down for breakfast until he was sure his pop had left for work. When he did slip down, Hazel was again in the kitchen, drinking coffee with his mom.
Not by look or word did she give a thing away. But Spud got the message that she'd come over mostly to see him.
When the doorbell rang, and his mom went to answer it, Hazel began needling him.
"Spud, you should behave yourself," she teased.
Spud grinned. God, how he began to ache to poke it to her right then! He heard his mom in the living room, talking to some salesman. He edged close and groped Hazel, and said, "That goes for you, too!"
Hazel had told his mom that she'd been a grade school teacher before she'd married Rankin, and his mom had told him. Hazel sighed now, nostalgically. She told Spud, "I've always loved children. I've hoped to have some of my own."
Spud didn't know what had brought that up. Fuckin' was fuckin', but having kids was another thing. "You know what to do to get them," he flipped. "Why don't you just spread your legs and go ahead and have some?"
Looking wistful, Hazel pushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. "Ronald doesn't like children," she said sadly. "He doesn't want us to have any. Spud, you know, I envy Coach's wife. I wish I were having a baby -" "Je-zus, wouldn't you be scared?" Spud asked quickly. "I mean -" "No, Spud," she said calmly.
Then she told him how she'd come to marry old Rankin two years before they'd moved next door. "I was one of those accident babies," she confessed. "My mother was middle-aged when I was born. My father died the year I finished college, leaving Mother dependent on me. When she developed a heart condition, I couldn't leave her at nights, so I never went any place or had any dates. I didn't blame Mother. She couldn't help it. Things just sometimes happen that way."
She said Rankin was forty-two and divorced when she met him. "He was principal of the school where I taught, and the other teachers made fun of him. But he was good to me and didn't mind spending his evenings in our living room, with Mother and me. He seemed to like her, and she liked him. Just before she died, she begged me to marry him, and in a moment of grief and desperation, I promised I would."
It was easy to see how she'd been trapped, and Spud felt genuine sympathy for her. It must have been terrible, living with a man so much older than she. She didn't love old Rankin. Who could? Spud supposed his first wife had found him so unbearable that she'd divorced him.
Hazel had been the victim of circumstances. Spud supposed old Rankin had fooled around just enough to awaken her sexually, then hadn't been able to deliver the goods. He wasn't man enough to satisfy her.
She was a woman on fire, just dying for an honest-to-God man.
And Spud figured he was the man!
God, Hazel's teasing had made him jumpy as a pullet laying her first egg. When his mom finally got rid of the salesman and returned to the kitchen, Spud beat it outside.
He didn't go to school that day.
Why should he?
He was getting an education a lot closer home!
As the afternoon dragged on, Spud's cock remained hard and wept for Hazel's pussy. He suffered the tortures of the damned. He half expected Frani to show up to drive him to football practice, but he didn't want to see her. He didn't want to see anybody but Hazel Rankin!
He was afraid to slip over to the Rankin house in broad daylight. He hoped like hell old Rankin would have business to keep him away from home that night. He got himself so worked up just thinking about Hazel that he decided to get up and walk to the gym just to cool off.
When he got there, it was too early yet for football practice. He went to Coach's office in the gym, but found nobody there.
He started to leave and go down to the locker room. He was at the door when he turned and saw a movement beyond the curtain which separated Coach's office from his storeroom, where he kept his books, athletic gear, and such things. His curiosity made him stop, look and listen.
At first, he saw nothing, heard nothing.
A closer look revealed a female leg. Then he heard heavy panting, a girl's giggle. "You feel so good," she whispered.
It was Donna Overstreet's voice.
Spud decided he'd better get out of there. But he couldn't move. He saw the shadow of Coach's strong fingers discovering Donna's nest, teasing, making her moan. Was he on his knees in front of her? No, he was fucking her! She held him tightly, scissoring him, knees high - writhing on a chair.
Coach was in her, pumping with deep, steady strokes, and she sighed. One heavy breast was in his mouth.
"Get your cock in deeper - deeper," Donna moaned.
Now, Coach was fucking her hard, hotly all at once. He rammed and bucked and battered her wantonly as she squealed and clutched him, begging for more. She moaned aloud, twisting, stretching, bucking, gasping for air.
"Don't stop -" she breathed.
Spud's cock throbbed. He wanted to get in where the action was. But this was Coach's party.
Holding Donna's hips, Coach slowed his action. "How was it?" he asked.
Donna breathed a sigh. "Oh, Coach, you don't know what you do to me!"
"I can guess." He pumped harder. "You want more?"
"All I can get! I want a lot more!"
He rammed her harder, and she writhed. "Oh, God, I'm coming!" he cried. His whole body trembled, then went limp. He pulled his cock out and wiped it on a handkerchief.
Spud stumbled against Coach's waste paper basket when he started to retreat, making a lot of noise. He heard Donna give a scared whisper, heard Coach's muffled response.
"Who's there?" Coach called out.
"It's me, Coach - Spud," Spud said as innocently as he could. "I - I didn't know you were sorting books. I'll come back another time."
"Thanks, Spud," Coach replied from beyond the curtain. "Thanks a lot."
Spud's cock was still throbbing, but he felt a lot better about Coach. He'd worried about what had happened in the shower, but now he was sure Coach wasn't a cocksucker.
Coach didn't mention the incident with Donna at football practice, and Spud continued his innocent pretense. But he kept thinking about Coach and Donna. And then his thoughts went to Hazel Rankin.
He wasn't worth a good goddamn on the football field that day.
But Coach was too pooped to eat him out.
That evening, Spud refused Coach's offer to drive him home. He wanted to walk - think - be alone.
All the way home, Spud anticipated meeting Hazel again that night. His desire peaked, making his whole body tremble.
His mind filled with anticipation of the wonderful things Hazel and he would do.
CHAPTER SIX
"Spud," Hazel said poutingly, "I dropped one of my earrings behind the bureau in the bedroom upstairs. Will you get it for me?"
"Sure," Spud said.
He'd watched old Rankin leave that evening before he'd slipped over to see Hazel. She led him up the stairs.
He got excited, being in the bedroom with Hazel. At sight of the bed, with the pink spread on it, his throat choked up, his cock throbbed, and he had the feeling of drowning.
"Where'd your old man go tonight?" he asked foolishly, getting down on his knees. He felt around, found the earring, and handed it up to her. Their eyes met.
"Don't worry about Ronald," she said, her hand touching Spud's arm and sending delicious tremors through his body.
They began pulling each other toward the bed.
Hazel took the initiative. She undressed Spud, then her lips sought his as her hand went down his thigh, down - down. His heart pole-vaulted as her fingers touched his dick.
"Ooooh!" he cried.
"Like that, Spud?"
He could only shiver and repeat, "Ooooh!"
She pinched his ear with her lips, and every nerve in him knotted with expectancy. He waited for her other surprises to unknot him, but she was rendering him weak and immobile with desire.
Hazel got out of her clothes. On the bed, she wrapped her arms and legs securely around Spud. He kissed her, and the kiss was returned. He stuck his long cock into her, and she squealed. He jabbed, and she yelped and gasped as if he'd pushed the breath out of her.
She spread her legs wider and embraced him passionately. He was on top of her, struggling madly to give her all of his eight and one-half inches. He thrust and heaved his hard cock deep inside her. Legs locked around his body, she threshed and panted. Then her rushing orgasm convulsed her. She had come too fast. She screamed, jerking wildly in the excruciating anguish of his fucking.
He was panting, too, in surging convulsions. He felt the sudden spurting of his cock as she held him tightly. He drained himself into her, and when the wild surge of passion released him, his prong wilted, and he rolled off, still breathing hard.
"You're the hottest cunt I ever -" She giggled at him. "You ever what, Spud? Fucked?"
"Yeah, fucked -" "How many girls have you fucked, Spud?" He glanced at her and looked away. "Hell, lots of 'em!" "How many, Spud? Two? Three?" "Maybe a dozen -" She sat up and cupped her breasts with her hands.
"You want some more, huh?" Spud asked.
She nodded, closing her eyes. "Yeah, but let's have a cigarette first."
He pushed her back gently onto the bed. "Shit," he said, "I've got to fuck you again first."
She giggled and spread her legs.
Spud pressed his face against her breasts, and his tongue licked her nipples. He kissed her further down, her belly, and still lower, near her cunt.
Her hand grabbed his stiff cock, and she bent to kiss the curlicues of hair around it, then the base of his staff. It sprang up in all its masculine glory. She began kissing everything he had, and Spud writhed and moaned in ecstasy.
When he could stand it no longer, he rolled her onto her back and mounted her, running his cock in quickly. Her slit was hot and juicy as it sucked at Spud's prick.
"Spud!" Hazel panted.
Spud continued to fuck her.
"Like it?" he asked.
"Jeez, boy, you know how to fuck!"
Spud knew when Hazel's orgasm rushed upon her. It warped and twisted her silky body under him and sent waves of lust through him. Her moist cunt lips ate at him, licked him, devoured him. He drove his hard rod deep into her nest again, and she squealed and rotated her hips.
They writhed together, until Spud came, and gratification relaxed him. He cried out softly as he felt his juice being drained from his hot body. Rockets shot off in his head.
The exquisite torture was finally over, and Hazel and he were both panting as if they'd never get their breath back.
"That was the best yet," Hazel praised, lying on the pink bedspread, almost drowned in her own sweat. "You're so big and wonderful, She began rubbing her thighs against him.
"It's no go, Hazel," Spud discouraged. "A man can take only so much of the kind of pussy you put out!"
She laughed.
They rested a while, and then Hazel said, "If the goat's lost his passion, we'd better get up. I'd better make up the bed."
Feeling a bit dizzy, Spud staggered to his feet. He had never before in his life felt so drained. He had never before felt so sexually satisfied, too! While he dressed, Hazel made up the bed, then slipped into a yellow robe.
"Hungry, Spud?" she asked.
He hadn't thought about food until now.
"Sure," he said.
"They say oysters put lead in your pencil. But how about a ham and cheese sandwich, with coffee, instead?"
"You think I don't need to replenish my lead?"
"You're pretty well loaded! And I don't have any oysters -" "Ham and cheese will do fine."
As Spud followed Hazel down to the kitchen, he was reminded of the old nursery rhyme, that thing about a spider and a fly, how the spider had enticed the fly into her parlor with all sorts of promises.
Hazel was like that spider!
Spud's eyes stayed on her body as she got the bread and opened the refrigerator. The longing, the desire, was getting into him again. Hell, he didn't need oysters! But, he warned himself, not tonight. A guy could fuck himself to death!
But what a way to die!
He slumped into a chair and kept admiring Hazel's body, her smooth skin, her nice shoulders, her legs, marveling at how nature had made man and woman different. Yet, they balanced each other perfectly.
The coffee started boiling. Hazel turned from the stove, to Spud, and praised, "You're young, but you're better than my husband ever was!"
Spud frowned. He didn't like to be reminded of old Rankin.
Hazel went on dreamily, "I'm fond of you, Spud. I love your hard cock. Do you have a girlfriend?"
He started to tell her about Frani.
"Shit, no!" he said. "I screw 'em all. You know, fuck 'em and leave 'em -" "Maybe you'll save some more for me?"
"Why not?"
Hazel set the sandwich before him and poured coffee. Spud gulped the sandwich and washed it down. The food did seem to revive him. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and said, "I guess I'd better go now."
"Come back tomorrow night."
"Tomorrow's Friday," Spud reminded. "After the ball game, huh? That be all right?"
"That will be fine, Spud," she said, catching his hand and squeezing his fingers. "It will take Ronald a long time to count the gate receipts."
The doorbell rang, and Spud jumped like he was shot.
Hazel laughed. "Don't scoot," she said, starting for the door.
"Maybe it's your husband -" "Ringing his own doorbell?" Hazel grinned.
Spud grinned back and waited. Hazel made sense.
The doorbell rang again.
Hazel opened the door to find Coach Nichols standing there. He gave Hazel a fancy smile, before he discovered Spud. He frowned and asked roughly, "Ain't football player supposed to be in bed?"
Hazel helped Spud out. "Why, Mr. Nichols," she cooed, "It isn't late. We were just having some coffee together. Won't you join us?"
Coach looked unhappy, but he followed Hazel and Spud back to the kitchen. When he kept scowling at Spud, Spud wondered if his presence was cramping his style. Had he come to get a little pussy from Hazel, too?
The three of them sat for a while in gloomy silence over coffee. The picture Spud got made him laugh inside. Hell, Coach wasn't suffering for pussy while his wife was pregnant!
But if he had any ideas about laying Hazel tonight, he could forget them. Hazel was fucked out! Let him go find Donna Overstreet!
Hazel broke the silence. "How's your wife?" she asked Coach.
Coach smiled weakly. "A little scared, I guess. It's her first baby, and she's due in a little over a week."
Hazel's eyes got misty. "If I were having a baby, I wouldn't be scared," she sighed.
Spud sat and listened to Hazel and Coach discuss having babies. He became bored. Let Coach mess around with Hazel if it would do him any good! Spud chuckled at the sex-hungry look on Coach's face, then stood up to leave.
"Don't go," Hazel begged.
So Spud sat down and stayed.
Coach stood up and rammed his hands into his pockets. He looked unhappy. "I wanted to see Ronald," he told Hazel. "I've a problem on my hands."
He turned to Spud.
"You're failing in three subjects, young man," he said angrily. "Miss Parks refuses to clear you for tomorrow's game!"
"Hell, you can take care of Miss Parks!" Spud said. "This ain't the first time. You've always fixed things up before -" "Yeah, but Miss Parks has screwed me. Keep that under your hat."
Yeah, Spud thought, she knows about Donna and you. That old bag knows everything!
Spud didn't like the way Coach was looking at him, like maybe he'd talked.
"I don't get my kicks out of peddling gossip," Spud defended. "You ought to know that, Coach!"
"Yes, Spud, I do. And I appreciate it."
Hazel frowned and looked puzzled over the little secret between Coach and Spud. "I do hope Ronald can do something to help Spud out," she sighed. "He's your best player, and if you lose him, you might lose the game." "That's the way the mop flops," Coach agreed.
He waited some minutes longer for old Rankin.
At last, he turned to Spud and said, "We'd better both go. I still hope to get you out of this mess you're in -" Hazel followed them to the door. Catching Spud's hand, she whispered, "Come back. I get lonesome -" Spud's squeeze on her fingers was a promise that he would.
He wouldn't miss screwing Hazel again for anything.
That night, he lay in bed and thought again about Hazel and that spider and fly. How did the rhyme go?
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair - Hazel's stair didn't wind, but the next part fit perfectly: And I have many curious things to show you when you're there!
He felt tired, but he couldn't sleep. Hazel's scent was still with him, and his mouth throbbed where her tongue had probed. He thought about getting up and taking a shower, but he didn't have the energy to move.
He rested a while longer, then he did get up and started walking around the room, very slow, and all. He began picking up some of his personal stuff he'd scattered around. Man, he could get his room in a mess without half trying! He really could! It made his mom yell her head off. He wanted some peace and quiet around the joint for a change, so he kept picking up his things.
When he finished, the room did look better. He sat down in a chair, stretching his legs. He started yawning and put his hand over his mouth. The yawn made his eyes water and sting.
He started groping around like a blind man, and just for the hell of it, he called aloud, "Hazel, won't you lend me a hand?" He was just horsing around, of course, but that kind of stuff gave a guy a bang sometimes.
The fun wore off pretty soon. He stood up and skinned out of his shorts. He liked to walk around naked and admire his good build.
He went to the shower at last. He stood under the warm, flowing water and let it tickle his skin until some of his tiredness went away. He turned on the cold water and began to shiver under it.
He dried himself vigorously and enjoyed making his cock swing. Then he went to lie across the bed again.
He got to wondering how nosey old Miss Parks found out so many things. He'd felt a mystery in the air at school, like something was ready to bust loose. He decided he'd attend more regularly so he wouldn't miss out on anything.
And then he demanded aloud, "Why?"
Old Rankin ran such a damned poor school that attending it was a complete waste of time.
He had to admit, though, grinning about it, that old Rankin's wife was a damned good teacher!
CHAPTER SEVEN
Donna Overstreet wore a new yellow cashmere sweater to school the next morning. There was a big purple 'F' sewn onto the front of it. The sweater looked rich and warm, and it fit snugly over her tits.
"I like it, Donna," Spud praised, when they met on the sidewalk, leading up to school. Then he asked where she got it.
She grinned and said mysteriously, "A smart girl has ways. But, to tell the truth, for this little item, I got laid."
Spud winked knowingly and smiled.
"Coach?" he asked.
"Like you didn't know!"
Until then, the incident in Coach's storeroom hadn't been mentioned by anybody. One thing about Donna, though, she was free and outspoken and discussed the sexual attributes of her various bed partners. She had bragged that going to bed made her feel adult.
As they walked on to class together, she said bitterly, "The monotony of this prison camp is getting me down. Anything you do, old Miss Parks thinks ain't decent!"
Spud said seriously, "She ought to try getting a dick in her sometime!"
"Who'd want her?" Donna flared.
Spud had to admit that was a sensible question. Maybe she and old Rankin would make a pair! The thought pleased him, but he was in a pensive mood that morning and decided Donna was exaggerating her boredom. She just wasn't the type to sit around and let boredom take over. She was forever passing notes in class, telling dirty jokes, rubbing her pussy in some boy's face. She couldn't keep her hands off the boys, though most of them didn't mind.
Spud decided that love and sex for her - and a lot of the other kids - was a game. But what the hell! Bored housewives and philandering husbands, like Hazel and Coach, liked to play the game, too. Spud's thoughts went to Frani, who was different. Girls like Donna were irresistible and irresponsible. Donna could wreck a car or a marriage with equal abandon.
They went on together to Miss Glover's algebra class. In class, Donna printed a note and held it up to Spud.
"You're entitled to one kiss," it read. "Will also neck if coaxed."
Spud had never screwed Donna, though he was sure he could if he wanted to. Donna didn't really send him on the sex route. He supposed it was on account of Frani, at first. And now, Hazel.
Nobody could compete with Hazel Rankin.
As usual, algebra class was a bore, and Spud thought the dismissal bell would never ring. At last, it did.
He got up quickly.
Donna grabbed his arm.
"Spud, Coach wasn't the man I thought he'd be," she said, as they walked down the corridor together. She sounded disappointed.
"Better watch it, kid!" Spud cautioned. "He was man enough to knock up his wife!"
"I know how to take care of myself!" Donna flared.
"Bragging?" Spud taunted.
They had reached Donna's locker, so Spud left her there and headed for the gym.
On the way over, he got to thinking about some of the things Coach had taught him. Coach knew a lot of the facts of life without having to look them up in a book. He knew the percentage of girls who had babies out of wedlock, the number of high school fillies who were non-virgin, and all that stuff.
But Spud wasn't too interested in statistics right now. He wanted to find Coach and ask about his chances of playing ball Friday night.
He found Coach in his office, leaning over his desk, absorbed in reading something. His blond head was down between his massive shoulders. He'd just dismissed a gym class and still wore his sweat shirt. A whistle dangled from his neck. He hadn't heard Spud come in.
Spud studied him in silence for a moment, remembering what Donna had said about his having a sort of pseudo-masculinity about him. Spud had never noticed it before, but now he saw the possibilities. He had some of that intellectuality Miss Parks always harped about, and something kind of childish, too. He worked pretty hard at being the hairy-chested, he-man type, Spud decided.
Spud coughed and cleared his throat.
Coach glanced up and gave him a quick smile.
"So it's you," he said, welcoming Spud, as he closed his book. "Pull up a chair. I was wanting to see you."
Spud pulled a chair up close to Coach. He sat down and started going straight to what he'd come for. But, for some reason, his tongue grew thick in his mouth.
Maybe it was because Coach's broad face was expressionless. It made Spud jumpy when he kept wetting his lips with his tongue as he stared at Spud. It was the first time he had ever been inarticulate around Coach. It was the first time, too, that Coach had made him feel nervous and uncomfortable. He squirmed under Coach's gaze, and when Coach placed his hand on his knee, Spud winced.
Christ, he'd ask Coach about the game! He wanted a direct answer, and then he'd beat it out of there like a bat from hell!
"Coach, will I play in the game tomorrow night?" he got out.
Slowly, Coach untangled his long legs, and, holy Jesus, he had a hard-on! He got up and went over to the record player the kids used for school dances, his goddamned dick trying to push out of his pants. He put on a platter of some kind of long-haired music which began to blare out, and which Spud disliked immensely at first. Then it struck him with a driving power, and he felt excitement course through his entire body. It was almost like the excitement of anticipating a piece of pussy, and it made the blood rush to his cock.
"What's that?" he asked, feeling the music vibrate from his fingertips, clear down to his toes, making his balls move under his semi-hard cock.
Coach smiled and said mysteriously, "It's something which reminds me of you, Spud. Because it has both ruthlessness and charm."
Spud's muscles tightened. He'd never heard Coach talk like that before, and he didn't make sense. He made Spud feel pretty funny.
"Goddamn it, Coach," he swore, "just tell me if I can play tomorrow night!"
Coach held his lips tight. He swayed forward, his body weaving in rhythm to the music. When he stopped swaying and looked down at Spud, there was an odd twist to his mouth.
Spud didn't know what to make of his strange actions. He saw Coach's hard cock throbbing underneath his pants.
Instead of answering Spud, Coach asked, "Spud, do you ever confide in your old man?"
"Hell, no!" Spud said gruffly. "You know I don't! He'd split a gut if I ever told him anything!"
Coach looked pensive as Spud wondered what had brought that inquiry on. He watched Coach go over and shut off the music, his mouth still twisted. He came back and scooted so close to Spud their faces almost touched. His leg raked Spud's, and that hard cock against Spud's flesh for an instant made his breath come too sharply.
Spud shoved back. "I'd better go now," he said hurriedly, getting up to leave.
Coach also got to his feet, and his big frame blocked Spud's exit. Everything became a jumble of discordant impressions before Spud's eyes.
"You upset about something?" Coach pried. "Hell, no!" Spud lied. "Should I be?" "Sit down, then!"
As Spud sat down, Coach's hand carelessly, but calculatingly, smoothed over Spud's semi-hard cock. Then he grabbed the flesh inside Spud's pants, and Spud's spine began to tingle as Coach stroked and pumped. Gentle, but firm. It was maddening, and made Spud's dick hard as steel.
Coach looked up. "Like it?" he asked. Spud did not answer.
Coach unzipped his fly and took Spud's hard cock out. "Let's see how much you liked it," he said, measuring Spud's cock with his hand. "You liked it!"
He hugged Spud's legs and rubbed his chin in his crotch. "That's a wonderful thing you've got between your legs, kid," he said, his voice husky.
Spud saw that Coach was hard, too. His cock seemed too small for his rugged body. He gripped Spud's thighs and spread them wide apart. Spud closed his eyes as Coach's hungry mouth came on target and his lips looped around Spud's hardened flesh.
Spud dug his nails into Coach's neck. He writhed and pulsated and moaned with the pleasure of it all. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and tried to enjoy every moment of this powerful, invigorating bliss.
Coach's lips left Spud's dick and went up under his shirt, seeking his chest. He sucked Spud's nipples, each in turn, for a long time, then his head slipped down to Spud's tilted cock again. He gobbled like a hungry animal, while Spud writhed. It wasn't long until he shot his wad.
Exhausted, he leaned back after it was over, and relaxed silently. Coach went to the lavatory and rinsed his mouth and washed his hands.
Spud had his eyes closed when Coach said, "You know, Miss Parks is trying to keep you out of the game -" "I told you, I expect you to take care of that."
"I'm trying," Coach said.
"Why don't you go and give her a good fucking? That might soften her up!" Spud pushed past Coach and started to leave.
Coach put his hand on Spud's shoulder and pleaded, "I'm sorry, Spud, for what just happened. Don't be too hard on me. A man gets pretty anxious when his wife's having a baby and he's denied -" "That's your problem," Spud gritted, shaking Coach's hand away.
He got outside.
All the rest of the day, he nursed a hurting disappointment in Coach and wondered how he'd ever thought so much of him, the big, cocksucking sonofabitch!
Just before school was dismissed that afternoon, old Rankin called Spud to his office.
"You're failing in three subjects, Gilbert," Rankin informed him, looking pleased. "That puts you out of tomorrow night's conference game."
Spud snorted.
He didn't care.
He didn't want to play football for Coach anymore, anyway! He started to leave the office, but suddenly, Coach filled the door. He was smiling broadly.
Ignoring old Rankin, he said directly to Spud, "Somebody made a mistake. I've just checked, and you're not failing in anything but Miss Parks' history class. That makes you eligible for the game!"
Spud knew that Coach had done some arm-twisting.
But he hadn't been able to bully Miss Parks, and right then, Spud thought a hell of a lot more of the old heifer than he did of Coach.
"Suit up early tomorrow night," Coach ordered.
Spud just grunted. He didn't say he would or he wouldn't. He didn't know if he'd play in the old game, or not.
When he went outside, Donna Overstreet was waiting for him. "Spud," she began, "I've been thinking -" "Did it hurt?" Spud growled, butting in.
Donna ignored that. "I'd like to do something different at the 'F' Club tomorrow night."
"Hell, there are only so many ways to do it!" Spud shot back. He took out a penknife and started paring his nails.
"What do you think about a lottery, Spud? You know, the lucky number wins the prize."
"Depends on the prize."
"What if the prize were me?"
Spud gave her the once-over. He let out his breath, thinking she might not be a bad prize, at that. A hell of a lot better than Coach's blow job!
She had made his senses tingle, and he was about to proposition her for a piece of ass. But she walked away, and he was glad.
He went and sat on the school steps, feeling hot all over. He wished there was a breeze, but there was none. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, and he heard the mutter of traffic on the highway only a few blocks away.
Then he thought: I shouldn't let Donna shake me up. I've got Hazel Rankin to supply me with pussy.
Still, any man with a single male hormone would be jolted by imagining Donna in the raw. He knew she would be juicy screwing, maybe even as good as Hazel. He tried to tell himself that Coach's horning in on Hazel didn't bother him. Hazel was woman enough for half a dozen men!
But, shit, could you count Coach as a man? How could he pretend quiet contentment and satisfaction in his married life, and then do blow jobs and cheat on his pregnant wife? Coach had joked fondly about the coming baby and had talked to Spud of his wife in a way which hinted of deep affection.
But he'd fucked Donna - Thoughts of Donna brought on hot thoughts of Frani. Her body was as lovely as Donna's, slim and boyish around the hips, but aU female in the legs and tits.
Spud felt completely frustrated, so he got up and went home.
He went to bed early. Naked, he punched the pillow into the shape he wanted it, then lit a cigarette. He was smoking entirely too much. But what the hell! He was trying to push away thoughts of women - Hazel, Frani, Donna. He should be concentrating on more practical affairs, like the coming football game.
But Hazel took over in his thoughts, and he felt sad. As he slipped under the sheets, the bedsprings sighed, and it was like Hazel's begging him to fuck her. He finished his cigarette, leaned on one elbow, and rubbed it out in the ashtray beside his bed.
He must get up early in the morning.
He reached for his clock and set the alarm.
He dreamed about Hazel Rankin that night. As he lay beside her in his dream, she was breathing hard. Her body, pressed into his, was soft and curvy, and her soft curves fitted comfortably into place.
His palm slid down, caressed her snatch, and she moaned, "Oh, wait, Spud!"
She clamped her legs about him, and a tremor shook his body as his nails dug into her shoulders. In a blurred moment of exquisite culmination, he saw her face, glistening and sweat-beaded, as she rose with him to the heights.
Then he woke up, and his cock was spurting all over the bedsheets.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Pep Club, in the bleachers above Spud, was cheering. Frani's voice led all the others, but tonight it didn't urge him on. His heart wasn't in the game. Twice, he'd fumbled the ball sadly, and the crowd had booed. The booing had angered him, and when Coach took him aside for a talk, Spud growled, "Just leave me alone! Stay away from me!"
And he thought: when you lose respect for a guy, you don't care what you do or say.
Valley High lost the conference game.
And, of course, everybody blamed Spud.
Down in the dressing room, somebody asked him, "Are you going to Donna's club meeting, Spud?"
"No!" he said hotly, knowing he'd be the most unpopular person there, if he went. He refused Coach's offer to drive him home.
He walked instead, and when he got there, the place was like a tomb. His pop, who didn't like ball games and usually didn't watch them, had the TV on. His mom started her usual nagging and fussing the moment he opened the door.
"What happened, Gilbert?" she inquired nervously.
"Not a thing," Spud said. He beat it up to his room.
Through the window, he saw that the lights were on over at the Rankin house. Like Hazel had said, old Rankin wouldn't be home for hours. He'd be up at school, counting the gate receipts.
Hazel was all alone.
She'd be aching for all eight and one-half inches of his cock.
But, to hell with Hazel!
He decided he'd sneak out and take a walk.
He was only a few blocks from the house when he met Bryce Griffin. Bryce was in a car, and he stopped and picked Spud up. He hadn't been out with Bryce for quite some time.
"You cruising?" Spud asked.
"Old Bryce is ready for a little pussy any time!"
Bryce was a go-getter, all right. His philosophy was that a roll in the hay wasn't a bad swap for a few drinks, and maybe a movie.
They rode around for some time, looking for girls. But the streets were empty and dark.
"No cunts on the prowl, I guess," Bryce said.
"Maybe they all went to Donna's -" "Shit on Donna!" Bryce suggested they pick up a couple of six-packs of beer and kill them at his house, since his wife and kids were out of town. The idea of just relaxing, and maybe getting a little high on the beer appealed to Spud.
So they got the six-packs, then curled up in front of Bryce's TV and watched an old movie. Maybe it was the beer that made Bryce hot. Suddenly, his cock pushed at his pants, and he was mad as hell about it.
Spud didn't see any reason for him to suffer. Bryce was the type of guy who could draw women like flypaper draws flies.
"You're a big boy now," he told Bryce. "Get on the phone and drum us both up some pussy!"
Bryce got out his little black book and dialed a number. Spud heard a girl giggle at the other end of the line.
"Come on over, baby," Bryce rasped. "And bring your sister along. Let's get with it and have a good time!"
In less than ten minutes, two broads appeared at the door. Bryce let them in.
The beer had turned Spud into a clumsy ox. When one of the broads singled him out, he ran his hot hands across her breasts and stomach. Almost immediately, she was begging for it, but she hadn't turned Spud on. His dick lay in his pants like a wilted radish.
It made him bitter that he couldn't make love. He got to wondering if something was wrong with him. Beer, he guessed, made different guys act differently. It had turned Bryce's motor on for sure, but Spud's wasn't even purring.
He knew right then that the hot broad had better not expect any miracles out of him that night. He didn't even care that she was suffering, out of her mind for his cock up her snatch. Let her suffer!
He had his own problems!
The girl lost control. Suddenly, she jumped up and stripped out of her clothes and stood naked before Spud.
She had a good body, Spud had to admit. It stirred him with quick desire, then it melted.
"Show me how much you like me, honey," she begged, wiggling her hot, juicy cunt in his face. "Turn me on for real, hon!"
Spud decided to play it cool. He just sat there and let her think he was the most desirable cat that ever slobbered over a woman.
He grabbed her and started slobbering over her neck, her tits, her belly.
She jerked back. "What are you - out of your mind?" she snapped. "If it's tongue-fucking you want, go find someone who needs a couple of bucks real bad! You've got the wrong girl!"
It was like she'd pushed the panic button. Spud grabbed her roughly and dug his strong fingers into her shoulders.
"Let go of me, goddamn you!" she snapped, drawing back. "I'm getting out of here! I've had enough of your goddamned crap!"
"Save the innocent talk!" Bryce yelled from the bedroom. He'd finished off with the one broad and was roaring like a bull for the second one.
She made an effort to fight him off, but Bryce was big and powerful. He lifted her off her feet and plopped her down on the sofa, holding her there. When she screamed, he stuffed a pillow into her mouth.
"You damned bastard!" the other girl yelled, rushing out of the bedroom. "If you hurt her, I'll kick your teeth in!"
"I'm going to show her how much I dig sex, like I did you!"
Spud felt his heart pounding. Bryce, naked too, was towering over the girl on the sofa, his huge cock fully erect and inching down to her pussy. He was a big man with big equipment, and Spud wondered if the broad could take such a huge prod.
Bryce was like an animal too long caged, and banging one girl seemed to have just primed him for the other. He began rubbing the girl's crotch.
Pretty soon, he spread her legs.
"You're going to love it," he breathed hoarsely. "They all love what old Bryce's got!"
It must have been plenty painful when Bryce's stiff cock slid against her opening and forced entrance. The girl writhed and screamed.
"Relax, kid," Bryce said.
The girl moaned in quick agony.
Bryce fucked into her, prodding, ploughing, thumping more agony into her body.
"How's it feeling now, kid? You liking it?"
The girl's moan was half-pain now, half-pleasure.
"You're tight stuff, kid," Bryce said. "Wow!"
Watching, Spud began to feel his passion rise. He knew that the first part had been pure hell for the girl. But now, he could tell she was liking it. Pain had turned into exquisite pleasure. The pleasure got into his groin, making Spud's cock harden.
He was standing close to Bryce and the girl, taking everything in. All at once, Bryce reached up and thumped Spud's hard cock.
"What's the matter, Spud?" he asked. "You leaving our other chick to suffer?"
"Hell, I figured you reamed her plenty!"
Spud heard Bryce expel his breath and saw him quiver all over. He asked the girl, "Are you all right, kid?"
The girl moaned. It was all over.
She got up, shivering, and went to the bathroom. The second girl followed.
While they were in the bathroom, Spud and Bryce had a couple more beers. His embarrassment because he hadn't been able to perform made Spud silent.
Bryce seemed to understand. He said, "Forget it, kid. You're a stud! Maybe you've just been exercising your cock a little too much lately."
"How much fuckin' should a guy take on?" Spud asked.
"Depends on the guy," Bryce told him.
It seemed evident that Bryce was a guy who could take on plenty. His cock never lost its stiffness.
When the two broads came out of the bathroom, he said, "Take a couple of minutes to catch your breath. Then the four of us are going to have a heap of fun together!"
And they did.
It was like one of those movies Spud had read about but had never seen. Bryce made the first girl kneel on the floor on all fours and fucked her by the back way. She moaned as she hunched to him. Soon, his cock went in, and their coupled bodies began moving in unison. They were like a couple of dogs going at it. The sight aroused Spud to a high pitch.
He grabbed the other girl and began playing with her tits. Now, she cooperated, beginning to strip him. Bryce reached out when Spud was naked and pulled him directly in front of him. He ran his hand over Spud's chest and firm, hard belly. Further down, his fingers found his terrific hard flesh which grew out of tufts of black hair. His fist grasped and pumped Spud's cock.
Spud arched and moaned.
"I'll prime you for action!" Bryce said.
The second girl pushed Bryce's hand away. Her lips encircled Spud's hot prick and the ecstasy was so intense Spud thought he would die.
He jerked away, then rammed his rod deep into the girl. He fucked her fitfully. In a matter of moments, he saw Bryce shudder and gasp, and Spud also exploded into his broad, almost at the same time.
The party was over!
Soon after that, Spud showered and dressed. As he started home, his thoughts went to Frani, and he wished he could marry and settle down. He wouldn't be like Bryce, go out and find other pussy. It would be too wonderful to put his hard cock into Frani's sweet, young snatch every night of the world. It would be heaven.
But it took money to get married, and where would he rake up the dinero? He picked up a few dollars every week at the ice plant, but it wasn't enough. And he sure as hell couldn't expect any help from his old man.
There was Frani's father, he reasoned. He was a reasonably rich man. But hell, Spud thought bitterly, he wouldn't be very happy right now with a son-in-law. He forced his depressing thoughts aside and promised himself he'd give the old school routine another try.
Then he remembered Donna's 'F' Club meeting. He decided he'd go by and look in on Donna's brand of fun.
Donna herself answered his knock and exclaimed, "Spud, I'm glad you came, you darling creature!"
A group of girls immediately gathered around Spud as Donna led him to the game room in the basement. He laughed and fended off their passes, but one of them kept tugging at his arm.
Jesus Christ, it was Hazel Rankin!
She ignored his surprise and said, "Come on, give all the girls a chance to drool!" She led him into the middle of a group of people.
Meeting, hell, Spud thought! It was more like an orgy, a swinging party. The room was jammed with naked asses, juicy cunts and hard cocks. People stood in clusters, feeling up each other, or just talking.
"Can I fix you a drink?" Hazel asked.
"Sure thing!"
He wasn't even shocked now to find Hazel present.
He had three drinks of something, one right after the other. Whatever it was, took effect immediately, and he was glad. You needed a stimulant to hold up under Donna's freak museum.
He groped some bare-assed dancer who passed by him, which proved to be frustrating. Not that he wasn't allowed all the liberties he wanted - he ran his hand down her bare back, played with her tits, and finger-fucked her. The result was that he got rather painfully hard, but the near-naked dancer remained indifferent.
Next, Hazel gave him a swing around the room. Without quite knowing how it had come about, he found himself alone with her in one of Donna's bedrooms. They both got naked, and he begged Hazel to blow him.
She did, and it was exciting. Yet, after he shot his load into her throat, he ended up with a vague, not quite comprehensible, sense of disappointment.
Afterwards, he rested. Then, with a slight sense of cruelty, he screwed her savagely.
After that, he fell asleep. Or maybe passed out for a time. When he woke up, he was alone.
When he dressed and went out to the game room, he was surprised to find Jake Sears had joined the party. Jake, in his late twenties, was built like a Greek God. Everybody liked him, and the women adored him. A group of them were trying to chew him up now.
Spud didn't know if Jake was married or single. He noticed that Hazel was hot for his cock, and Jake seemed happy about it.
Standing there, a little apart and watching, he imagined Hazel and Jake together, fucking. He got a hard-on imagining it. In a detached sort of way, he tried to analyze it. It wasn't the memory of Hazel so much as it was Jake's virile figure, the animal magnetism in him. But there was something spiritual, too, about Jake, something blended in him to perfection. Spud didn't want to imagine him without a stitch on, but that was precisely what was in his mind. He imagined him jabbing Hazel with a cock that went deep and made her writhe and groan.
Abruptly, his own erection throbbed. He laced his fingers across the bulge in his pants.
He caught Jake staring at him.
"Hello, Spud," Jake greeted, his face bright with interest of some kind. "Sorry you lost the game tonight."
Jake was edging up, trying to strike up a conversation. Spud stood there nervously, shifting his eyes, until Hazel came up. She took Jake by the arm and led him off. Spud watched to see if they went to a bedroom.
And his eyes sneaked a look at Jake's basket.
Jake was ready for action!
But Hazel led him to the kitchen. Spud took a chair near the TV.
Pretty soon, Hazel and Jake came back and started climbing the stairs.
Spud bet himself that Jake was hung like a stallion. A wonderful, wild stallion!
Some friendly dame brought Spud another drink. Tinkling her glass against his, she said, "Cheers!" Her voice was low and sexy.
It was plain the lady was willing.
"You itch between the legs?" Spud asked.
"Scratch me," she begged.
Spud scratched, but he felt no desire for a roll in bed. The girl sensed it, he knew, but she was determined to heat him up. With the expert movements of a stripper, she let her dress part down the front, exposing bare flesh. Spud took in the luscious tilt of her breasts, her beautiful navel, her juicy cunt, then looked away as a hot flush stung his face. He felt moisture trickle down his brow.
He took another sip of his drink, deciding he wouldn't be tricked. He'd had enough fucking for one night and decided he'd get out of there. He finished his drink and set the empty glass on a nearby table.
"Can I fix you another one?" the girl asked.
Spud shook his head.
He tried, but he couldn't gather the will to get up. Maybe it was the drinks that were gluing him there. Maybe it was the bold promise of the girl. She sat on his lap and cuddled close. As if trying to invent conversation, she asked, "Do you think a girl should have a lot of experiences before she marries?"
Spud laughed. "Depends on what you mean," he said.
"I mean, having fun - getting screwed," she said seriously. "I was thinking about Hazel Rankin. If she'd found out about life, she never would have married that goddamned old Rankin!"
Spud figured she was right, but he couldn't get too interested about it. "I guess I'd better go," he said.
The girl detained him. He noticed now that she was a dishwater blonde, with cat eyes, big tits, and a slim waist. She reached down and stroked his cock a couple of times, and it rose up quickly. She took it out of his pants and curled her hand about it warmly and squeezed it, pulling gently at the same time. His dick extended to its full length.
The girl gasped and glanced at him. "God, it's a honey!" she sighed. "Let me feel it - I mean, inside me!"
Spud blinked, then licked his lips. "Come on, if you think you can take it," he said, getting up. "Let's find a bedroom."
In the dark bedroom, Spud unzipped his pants and took his hard cock out with two fingers. He looked at the girl and said, "Lubricate it! Suck on it!"
"Take all of your clothes off."
He shucked out of his clothes in a hurry. He sucked in his breath as the girl knelt and took his hard prick into her mouth. She sucked a moment, then raised up.
"Don't shoot your wad too fast," she said. "Watch it and don't cream too soon and ruin a good goddamned fuck."
He nodded.
Spud stood very still while, once more, her red mouth closed over his cock. He stared down, watching her lick it expertly, feeling her mouth and tongue on it. He felt his passion mounting and gritted his teeth. If he didn't watch it, he'd blow his load too soon. He could let it go any time.
"Don't make me come," he begged. She released it, kissing the pink head with soft lips.
Spud rested a moment. Then he pulled her legs up and spread them. Her pink-lipped cunt lay there in its fringe of dark hair.
He got into her fast, fucked her fast. He went deep. She was warm and tight, and he began to fuck her like he'd never quit.
She took it all and begged for more.
He long-stroked her now, pulling it almost out, then driving in hard, in and out - in and out. She was warm and delicious, and her legs caressed him, her arms went about his neck. Her breath was hot in his ear.
"Oh, Jesus," she squealed, "I already come twice! Pull it out!"
"I ain't come yet, for crissakes!" Spud said. But he pulled his cock out. He sat back on his knees, and she sat up and smiled at him. She reached out and petted his dong.
"You ready to blow it?" she asked.
"Yeah, let me finish up."
She lay back down, and he churned his ass, driving his tool into her, making her giggle softly into his ear.
She was -holding him tightly, squeezing him with her cunt, rubbing her tits against his chest, doing everything she could to make him lose his wad. Spud decided not to fool around. He'd shoot his load into her as fast as he could.
He made her gasp when he spurted. She held on, sucking her breath in. She liked it, there was no doubt about it. He leaned into her, still fucking it in, knees wobbly. Man, she was good. He kept feeding it to her until he began to go soft.
"Okay," she said, "that's enough. Jeez, it was good!"
Spud sighed. "Shit!" He pulled out of her.
Spud dressed quickly, brushed the girl away, and slipped out Donna's back door. He went across the hedge, to the street.
He took his time going home.
He approached his house through the alley, and just as he reached his own back porch, a bright light stabbed the hedge. He heard the sound of an automobile.
"Oh, my God!" someone whispered hoarsely. It seemed to come from Hazel's front porch.
Spud looked and saw Hazel and Jake Sears there. Fright contorted Hazel's face.
Spud understood the situation in a second, so he hurried over to greet old Rankin, pretending he'd been waiting for him. He'd give Hazel and Jake time enough to untangle. He pulled it off there in front of the Rankin garage.
He apologized profusely for losing the ball game, keeping one ear cocked toward the house, not meaning a single word he was saying to goofy old Rankin. He heard a car drive off and supposed it was Jake Sears. But he detained old Rankin a few moments longer.
After he finally allowed old Rankin to go on, he stood there shivering. Rankin was going to catch Hazel one of these nights. Why did she take such chances?
He went and sat down on his back steps. He sat there a long time.
A voice called him out of the darkness.
"Spud?"
He didn't answer.
"Spud, are you there? Why don't you answer me?"
"I'm here, Hazel," he said.
Hazel emerged from the shadows and regarded Spud with a puzzled frown. "Why didn't you answer? You frightened me -" "Sorry," Spud said.
Another frown penciled Hazel's brow. "You all right, Spud?" "Sure. Why?"
"You seem kind of distant."
"I'm okay," Spud mumbled, wishing she'd go away. He'd had enough sweet pussy to do him for one night. He wanted to be alone some more before he hit the sack.
She said, "Thanks for covering for me, Spud -" "It's okay. Just stop taking chances."
Spud watched her go back into the house through the back door. He wondered how much longer she'd be able to fool old Rankin. One of these nights she'd get caught. Someone might get shot. The thought made the blood rush to his temples.
Hazel's going to Donna's club had been a silly and dangerous gesture. It would be a secret not easily kept. Then he thought of her fucking Jake Sears, and an insane jealousy racked him.
Hazel was his piece of meat!
He looked over toward the Rankin house and faced the fact for the first time that Hazel was raw and primitive. Hazel was any man's meat!
Up in his room, he turned on his TV set, then just prowled, walking back and forth across the room. The images of Hazel and Jake wouldn't leave him. Finally, Coach also entered his thoughts, and sweat soaked his shirt. He lit a cigarette and puffed away savagely as he paced the room.
His mom heard him. From outside his closed door, she exploded, "For heaven's sake, Gilbert, what's wrong with you? Can't you sleep? It's almost morning -" Spud didn't say anything.
She rapped on his door. "Turn off that TV before you wake up your father!" She pushed the door open and regarded him with concern.
"Are you worried over your school subjects, Gilbert?" she asked.
That was as good a line to hand her as any, so he said, "Yes," He was hoping she's go away and leave him alone.
No such luck.
She frowned and told him, "Professor Rankin tells your father you can't read. How come you got promoted? I know you ain't learnin' anything."
"I'm not stupid!" Spud defended. He thought back quickly through his school years, staring down at his feet. As far back as he could remember, he hadn't liked school. It had made him feel inadequate. Hell, the teachers never taught the things you needed to know! Suppose he couldn't read very well? A guy could learn a lot from listening to radio and watching TV. You could learn by listening to the other fellows. Most kids never learned to read very well. They didn't have to.
And nobody ever got excited about it except squares like his folks and old Miss Parks.
It had been Miss Parks who'd caused the big stink about the reading level at Valley High. She'd given tests which were supposed to prove that eighty per cent of the kids were at least two years retarded.
This whole crappy business of education confused Spud.
Spud's mom leaned against the door and sighed. "You're too old to learn to read."
Spud held back his rage. "Everybody's an authority on education," he said as evenly as he could. "Every adult feels free to say what's wrong with the school and us kids!"
"The truth is," his mom concluded, "you're lazy, like your father!"
Spud got up and rudely closed the door on her.
CHAPTER NINE
Spud went to school Monday because he wanted to see Donna. Hazel Rankin picked him up and gave him a ride.
He wanted to see Hazel, too. "Hazel," he started out, "do you think Coach has blown a fuse?"
"What do you mean, Spud?" she retorted. "Why do you ask that?"
Spud told her about Coach and Donna in the book room. Then, blushing, he related how Coach had gone down on him in the shower room.
Hazel laughed. "I'd like to have seen that! Coach has ants in his pants. He's a pretty hot-type guy, and it's hard on him with his wife having a baby."
"But, damn it, he banged Donna!" Spud swore. "And then he gobbled me! What in hell does Coach like?"
"Anything he can get, I'd judge," Hazel said seriously, laying her hand on Spud's crotch.
He brushed it away. He was unable to feel any passion, thinking about Coach.
Hazel pouted. "You act like an old man, Spud. I didn't know you young goats ever lost your hots." She gave up trying to arouse him.
Spud sulked.
Pretty soon, Hazel praised, "Gosh, you've got good muscles! I bet all the girls at school are wild about you!"
"Not all of them," Spud corrected, remembering Frani Cravens. But Hazel's compliment did make him feel good.
"I wouldn't worry about Coach, if I were you," Hazel said. "Some men like their fun any way they can get it. Some women, too."
They'd reached the school when Hazel started to say something about Coach and Jake Sears. But Frani was sitting on the front steps, and Spud's heart gave a leap. She looked as if she were waiting for him.
"Goodbye, Hazel," he said quickly. "Thanks for the ride."
He got quickly out of the car. When he looked, Frani's face had darkened. She'd seen him with Hazel Rankin, and now she was retreating into the building.
Spud hurried after her. Pushing through the door, he yelled, "Hey, Frani, wait up for me!"
Though everyone else had heard and were staring and gawking, Frani pretended she hadn't heard him. From the brief glimpse Spud got of her stiff back as she hurried down the hall, he knew she was still plenty angry at him.
He was clogging after Frani when Donna Overstreet blocked his way. She still wore her yellow sweater, but it was soiled. She looked pooped, like she hadn't slept during the whole week-end.
"Spud," she said, "there'll be another 'F' Club meeting at my house next Friday night. Mom's gone -" Donna's old club sounded silly to Spud, like something for kids. He brushed her aside and said, "Sorry, I won't be able to make it."
"Chicken!" she teased.
He teased right back, parroting old Miss Parks, who was against social organizations, if you call Donna's 'F' Club that. "Your old club's undemocratic!" Donna scowled.
He hurried on down the hall, but he didn't catch up with Frani.
It wasn't until history class that he got to see her. He took a seat across from her, though he should have known Miss Parks would make trouble for him.
Sure enough, the instant he leaned over and tried to whisper to Frani, old Miss Parks was on his tail.
"Gilbert Jamison!" she scolded, "you were talking after the bell rang!"
Hell, he knew it! She sounded so prim as she glared through her funny glasses "I have to tell Frani something," he argued.
"That will do, Gilbert! The class will please come to order."
Spud slumped in his seat. Frani had refused to listen to him, anyway.
Still looking ridiculously prim, Miss Parks stood before the class and stared over the pupils' heads, to the back of the room. Spud followed h r gaze and saw that her eyes were on Donna Overstreet.
"I hate to mention this," Miss Parks said, sort of hesitating, "but do your mothers approve of the way some of you girls dress for school?"
She meant she didn't approve of Donna's tight sweater. But why shouldn't Donna wear what she wanted to? Miss Parks always dressed in dull, colorless clothes that were loose-fitting and ugly.
"If you mean me, Miss Parks," came Donna's voice, full of resentment, "my mother approves."
A ripple of giggles passed over the room. Everyone turned to stare at Donna.
Miss Parks rapped on her desk.
"Don't you think a plain cotton dress would be more appropriate for school?" she asked. "And you should lengthen your skirt. Sweaters and short skirts are for brazen, showy people who wish to call attention to themselves."
Her righteous tone and snoopy manner made a hard anger churn in Spud. He had to let it out.
"Other teachers don't poke their beaks in our private affairs!" he complained furiously. "It's none of your damned business what we wear!"
The room went very quiet.
Miss Parks' face went white with fury. She tried to speak, but only sputtered.
Spud wasn't finished with her yet. He stood up and hurled at her, "Why are you such an old meddle-bag, anyway?"
Miss Parks' lips twisted, and her mouth worked, but she couldn't form words. She was about to have a spasm. She could only point for Spud to leave the room.
"Gladly!" he growled.
As he reached the door, he bumped into someone from the office. The girl announced that there would be an assembly in a few minutes. From the looks on the kids' faces, Spud knew what the assembly would be about. He decided he'd move along with the rest of the student body. Shit on going to the office!
Up on the platform before the assembled pupils sat old Rankin, Editor Millhouse, and three local ministers. Their faces were glum, and Spud knew each was primed to make a speech.
The pupils were silent at first, sitting quietly in anticipation of something. They finally got restless, and low whispers echoed over the auditorium as Spud's gaze searched out Donna Overstreet.
She was sitting defiantly only a few seats to the left of him, a buxom blonde in a tight sweater and miniskirt that showed off almost all of her well-formed ass. She pushed at the loose strands of hair at the back of her neck, then looked up. Spud knew she was glaring at old Rankin and his guests.
"They're threatening me with reform school!" she said aloud. "But you all just wait until I tell what I know on some of these pious bastards!"
Spud figured Donna would put up a good fight.
Some townspeople, their faces glum, started filing in and taking seats. The auditorium was fast filling to its limits.
Finally, old Rankin stood up and rapped on the podium. Once more, the large room got quiet.
"We are gathered here because of a serious incident which happened last Friday night," he started out.
All eyes went to Donna.
Spud knew old Rankin was plenty nervous. His voice was shaky, and his hands trembled as he adjusted the mike.
"We have delinquency in our midst," he continued, as if that fact would bring on the end of the world. Then he started straddling the fence. "There are two types of delinquents," he analyzed, his voice less forceful. "One is a hostile, aggressive, glowering psychopath - a type bred by hate, lust and brutality. I - I don't think ours is of that type."
He paused, as if he'd memorized all that from a book and had forgotten what followed. The audience remained quiet. He tried to smile before he continued, but it was a weak attempt.
"The other is Peck's Bad Boy - or girl - as the case may be, and ours probably is - a wild, selfish youngster who gratifies every whim whenever he or she feels like it. Not really bad - but unthinking - a healthy individual with too much energy for his own good."
Old Rankin paused again, as if he expected loud applause for his memory work.
He didn't get it.
Miss Parks stood up and stiffened. Spud was sure she hadn't stood up to praise old Rankin. She hadn't.
"Both pictures you paint, sir, seem a bit out of focus to me," she said sternly, glaring directly at old Rankin. "Try as I will, I cannot recall a single robust pupil in serious difficulty simply because he or she overflowed with life forces, as you indicate."
Old Rankin's mouth flew open.
Editor Millhouse and the ministers gasped.
"They're empty young people, living empty lives," Miss Parks went on with conviction, her gaze going down to Donna Overstreet.
Her short speech brought on a hot debate. The Chief of Police, in the audience, sided with old Rankin. Millhouse, of course, was firmly with Miss Parks. The ministers couldn't make up their minds.
Some citizen in the audience stood up.
"Do you think, with some kind of magic, you can straighten these kids out?" he asked bluntly, directing his question to Miss Parks.
Old Rankin tried to answer. He only sputtered and groped for words.
Once more, Miss Parks got to her feet. "If we could only find the money -" she started out.
A groan went over the audience.
She looked over the gathering of mothers and fathers. "Do you parents realize how much danger your children are in?" she asked. "Don't you believe their welfare and happiness is worth a few dollars?"
She went on to paint a general picture of Valley High, a school that was overcrowded and tense. "And yet the average pupil is reasonably well-behaved. A small minority is creating the havoc, but one bad apple can spoil the whole barrel," she ended.
The Chief of Police got up, and in his short speech, he mentioned Donna Overstreet, using her as a sort of example. Rankin, finding himself in deeper water than he could swim in, called on the guidance counselor to help him out. She was a gray-haired woman with a hatchet face and a blue rinse. "Donna's I.Q. is 112," she announced. "When she was in grade school, she was in a special reading class, but something slipped somewhere."
"I'll say it did!" Editor Millhouse exploded. Turning to old Rankin, he added, "Don't get me wrong. My heart bleeds for teachers, and if I were a high school teacher today, I'd blow my brains out! But, right now, I want to know if something can be done - and what!"
Helplessly, the guidance counselor suggested, "We could try more remedial reading -"
"Shit!" Spud said.
Behind him, somebody whispered, "What's remedial reading got to do with fucking around?"
Spud grinned to himself. Every kid in school could read four-letter words! Disgust took over, and he thought the whole lot of them a silly bunch of pretenders. Everybody knew why they'd been called to the auditorium, and yet not a person there had guts enough to define and face the major problem. They all blushed and beat around the bush.
The meeting lasted two hours, and in all that time, only twice did anybody even hint of Donna's club party.
"They'd better not push me!" Donna threatened aloud. "Let somebody say too much, and I'll name every guy in town I've gone to bed with!"
The kids began leaving the auditorium. Disgusted, Spud too pushed his way out.
Donna was out there, fit to be tied. Spud looked at her, and something about the whole thing struck him as funny. He laughed aloud.
Donna reddened with anger.
"What's so damned funny?" she snapped, glaring at him.
"You are!" Spud said. "I've never seen anyone as mad as you are."
"Wouldn't you be?"
"I guess so."
"I just don't like people butting into my business and making fun of me!"
Donna's closeness and her anger were doing strange things to Spud. His shorts began to feel too tight, and his damp clothes stuck to his flesh.
"Can I walk you home, Donna?" he asked.
"Sure, Spud. I feel kind of upset and lonesome - and mom's not home."
Spud didn't know if that was meant for a confession or an invitation. "Don't expect me to be your mama," he said, as he took her arm and they started down the street.
"I'm going to forget this whole mess," Donna said. "And I'm going to continue to have a good time!"
"Great!"
But suddenly, Spud wasn't feeling so great. His thoughts had slipped briefly to Frani, and to the sour faces of his pop and mom.
Forget it, he warned himself! He had Donna, and Donna could turn the whole world into a bed of roses for a guy.
"C'mon in the house," she invited.
Spud followed her in - straight to her bedroom.
It wasn't a very big room and was decorated haphazardly with drapes and dolls and cushions everywhere.
"Don't look at anything," Donna warned. "I haven't cleaned house since mom left."
Spud sat on the edge of her bed and lit a cigarette. He looked at Donna and asked, "What did we come here for?"
Donna chuckled. "Dummy - to fuck! What else?"
"A little fuckin' never hurt anybody, I guess," Spud said, hurrying to get out of his clothes.
"Jeez, you've got a good pecker," Donna praised.
Spud shrugged. He went over and started helping her get out of her clothes. "A big cock is a gal's best friend," he said.
He helped Donna onto the bed, positioned her, placing her legs wide apart. He got into her so quickly that his plunging cock took away her breath.
"God, you're fuckin' big!" she giggled. "So fuckin' big!"
Spud started fucking her heatedly. She clung to him and wrapped her legs around his middle.
"Put your legs down," he said sharply. "Now, hang on, baby!"
She lowered both legs, and Spud huffed and panted as he went deep, deep. The friction he'd built up was going to explode any time. Donna moaned and writhed, bucking and jerking. His plunging cock shook her wildly. He felt his load spitting into her as the world spun in a mad ferment for long minutes. He heard Donna groan.
"Man, you give a wicked fuck," she giggled.
"You do something to me," Spud panted, feeling his cock soften within her "You just did it to me!" Donna laughed.
"Yeah, and I'll do it again pretty soon!"
He rested a few minutes.
"Okay?" he asked, his voice dry as dust. "Ready for another jabbing?"
"Okay," she said.
He jabbed her quickly, going deep. She shuddered and moaned, "Ooooh!" She jerked and gritted her teeth, then eased off and began moaning.
Spud fucked her hard for a few minutes. "Get off," she said in a guttural voice.
"I ain't finished."
"I'll finish you," Donna said.
"Fuck it!" Spud growled. "I want to get it off in your snatch!"
He plunged his long sausage deeper, up and down, up and down.
And then he squirted. His orgasm warped and twisted his body. Donna's cunt kept licking and squeezing with moist lips, making the sensations linger.
At last, he was drained.
"You were delicious, Spud -" "You were good, too," Spud giggled. "Je-zus, you know how to fuck!"
Donna kept panting, "I love it, Spud - I love you! You're the best cock in the world!"
Spud fucked her three times that afternoon. He pushed her back against the mattress and commanded, "Lie there. I'll take care of you!"
She didn't argue.
He kissed her tits, the lobes of her ears, her belly. It wasn't long until his cock hardened again. Then he was doing things to her, crazy things, impossible things. Fantastic things!
And, the things she was doing to him!
The bedsprings creaked under them. Spud's world zoomed and spun dizzily. And then - He shot off for the third time in Donna.
And then he rolled off, panting, exhausted.
Donna asked, "You liked me, Spud?"
"It was insane!"
"Spud?"
"Yes?"
"Then was it worth five dollars - for a feeling like that?"
"The feeling was priceless!"
Spud's first thought was that the five bucks would be little to pay for what he'd received. But then - there was a name for girls who did it for money.
He didn't know what to say. Half-teasing, he told Donna, "I'm broke this time."
"Then double the next time, okay?"
"Donna, I'm not made of money -" Donna growled, "I'm headed for big time, and it takes cash to get there!"
"I don't blame you for getting out of town."
"Yeah, a girl can wait too long."
Spud left Donna's house with his heart in the soles of his shoes and one scorching thought in his mind. Donna had been good fucking - as good as Hazel Rankin.
But one goddamned thing was for sure - Hazel sold her pussy a lot cheaper!
When Spud reached home, his pop was in the living room, hidden behind the evening newspaper. Spud trembled as he passed him on the way to the stairs.
He was halfway up the stairs when his old man called, "Come back here, Gilbert! I want to talk to you!"
Spud had no choice.
He crept back meekly and stood before his pop.
"Where did you go last Friday night?" his old man demanded.
A sudden cold fear paralyzed Spud. He was sure now his pop had heard of Donna's meeting, and the assembly at school. Perhaps it had all been in the evening newspaper.
"You know I played football Friday night," he reminded his pop wearily.
"I'm fully aware of that - and of the spectacle you made of yourself! But, if I remember correctly, you came home, then left again. I demand to know where you went!"
Spud matched his old man's sarcasm. "I breezed off for a little fresh air. I found it stuffy here. Anything wrong with that?"
He turned and started up the stairs.
"Young man, I'm not finished with you yet!"
Spud's pop made him come back and stand at stiff attention. Shaking a finger in Spud's face, he demanded, "Did you go over to the Rankin house Friday night?"
"You know I don't like old Ranki;:!"
"Don't evade my question! You think his blonde, hussy wife is pretty cute! She spells trouble. Rankin suspects her of entertaining men! You stay away, do you hear?"
"Yeah, I hear," Spud said.
As he was putting on his pajamas that night, Spud told himself that his old man could go to hell. He'd see Hazel whenever he wanted to! He got into bed, and lying there, he looked up at the dark ceiling, Hazel in his thoughts. Hazel was hot pussy - and for free. She was like a habit-forming drug.' Spud was depending on Hazel to restore his feeling of manhood, a feeling Coach had almost robbed him of. But, hell, a guy couldn't feel very sexy with all the bickering and turmoil that went on around his house! Oh, shit, he'd had enough sex to last him for a few days, he guessed!
He suddenly felt cold.
His last thought, before he fell asleep, was that he wished he had Hazel beside him to warm him up!
CHAPTER TEN
Though nothing constructive was accomplished by the meeting in the high school auditorium, news spread around that the high school kids were a bunch of degenerates. The whole town was in an uproar.
Some of the kids got grounded by their parents. Millhouse, in his newspaper editorials, blamed old Rankin and the school. His headlines began screaming stories of teenage killings, burglaries, rapes, and prostitution from city slums to prosperous suburban communities all over the United States.
"Our children are committing crimes of violence and sexual promiscuity," he wrote heatedly.
He wanted to know why.
Spud, reading the headlines, said under his breath, "Hell, because it feels good!"
Lots of the parents thought they knew the answers, including Spud's pop. Spud, fed up with his old man's beefing, avoided him as much as he could. Among rhe teenagers, there were those small groups that had barely stepped over the limits drawn by convention, and cautiously at that. But they were scared, and at school they gathered together to discuss their sins and express contrition, hovering close for mutual protection and support.
Others, like Donna Overstreet and Kirk Myers, went around flaunting their rebellion and anger.
Spud held himself aloof from both groups.
His hot thoughts stayed mostly on Hazel Rankin. He wondered if he were oversexed. Hazel was almost thirty, and, to Spud, that seemed old. And yet, she was youthful and good-looking, and she had as much wiggle in her ass as any of the high school broads. He guessed it was mostly because she hadn't been worn out by her goddamned, puky old husband.
And to think that old Rankin, with a wife like Hazel, was leading a moral crusade!
It made Spud laugh.
He wandered back to school on Tuesday, mostly to give old Miss Parks something to crap-off about. But the sudden new silly rules, made after yesterday's meeting, and the whole crazy new set-up, disgusted him.
On Wednesday, he didn't go back.
He fooled around town, then spent some time with Bryce Griffin down at the ice plant.
He decided to go see Hazel.
He detoured as he neared the Rankin house, taking no chances that he might be seen. Spud's home was on the lot just north of the Rankin's, which was identical in construction to his. He sneaked up cautiously from the south.
As he stepped upon the porch, he heard voices inside. He hadn't expected Hazel to have company. He drew closer and listened.
When he recognized a man's voice, he grinned and decided it was Coach, after a little of Hazel's ass.
And then he knew it wasn't. What he saw, though, made his heart lodge in his throat.
Jake Sears, he saw through a crack in the window, was seated in one of Hazel's chairs.
Spud glued his nose to the window, listened and looked.
When Jake moved to the divan with Hazel, and they began kissing up a storm, Spud's tensions left. Jake's hand was groping under Hazel's short dress. He broke loose after a minute, and went to old Rankin's liquor cabinet. He poured himself a stiff, straight drink, and as he went back to Hazel, Spud saw the tightness across the front of Jake's pants and knew he was hot for a fuck.
Then his lips curled, as if he'd eaten quinine. "Honey," he said to Hazel, "you have an evil gleam in your cold, blue eyes! Want to tell me why?"
"Don't leer at me! I'm thinking!" Hazel replied.
"You mean, you're licking your bright lips. What's on your mind?"
"It's not what you're thinking, Jake Sears!" Hazel said, stone sober. "If Ronald ever finds out that - that I've been unfaithful - there'll be trouble!"
"Nobody has the guest list."
"I mean it, Jake."
"A woman like you needs - shall we say? - a little excitement - like at Donna's. How can he know about it?"
"All this investigation scares me."
"Aw, hell. The whole thing will come to nothing, I can assure you. Too many prominent people--" Jake paused. "Now, let me get you a brandy."
While Jake poured the brandy, Hazel kicked off her shoes.
She took the brandy, and Jake rubbed against her. "Now," he said, "let me excite you!"
Spud was on fire when Jake started undressing Hazel. Then Jake shucked out of his own clothes and stood there magnificently naked. What a pair! Spud could tell that Jake worked hard to keep in first rate shape.
As Spud watched, Jake took one of Hazel's magnificent tits into his mouth and sucked it.
Hazel bounced it a little and grinned down at him.
"You like tits, huh?" she asked.
"You kiddin?" Jake said, gritting his teeth.
He turned now, and Spud saw that his cock was hard as steel. He didn't have too much size. Hazel stroked it a couple of times, then curled her fingers about it and squeezed, pulling gently at the same time. The cock extended to its full length, about five inches.
Hazel kept holding it, feeling it, stroking. Jake slid his hand up over her butt.
Hazel turned loose and Jake waggled his cock at her. She watched, her eyes saying she was interested. There was no kidding about that.
Jake squatted in one of the yellow chairs. "Come on - come on," he said. "Suck it!"
Spud watched Hazel's mouth close over Jake's cock. Jesus! Hazel was licking him expertly. Spud gritted his teeth, feeling right along with Jake.
Pretty soon, Jake pulled back. "Don't make me come," he said to Hazel.
She released his dick, licking the pink head of it with her tongue, kissing it with soft lips.
"Now, get on me," she said.
"Okay."
Hazel lay on the rug, her legs up and wide-spread. Her pink-lipped cunt showed in a fringe of hair.
"Get on it," she ordered. "Give me a fast fuck!"
Jake dropped to his knees, and Spud saw Hazel grab for his prick. He pushed up into her crotch, and she guided it in. He thrust and began to fuck her fast, with quick strokes. He slowed down and started pulling it out, driving it in, pulling it out, driving it in - Hazel squirmed.
"Like it?" Jake asked.
Hazel frowned and looked disappointed.
But the whole scene had heated Spud up. He felt a twinge of electricity race through his cock, and then his pants tented to accommodate his own hard-on. He wished he was in Jake's place!
"You like it, don't you?" Jake whispered. "I mean, you like men -" "They make the world go round!"
"And are necessary for certain kinds of games!"
Spud's erection was pushing harder at his pants. As Hazel and Jake began to fuck again like young animals, he turned away. He'd never been a peeping-tom, and he didn't like the idea of being a mere onlooker. He heard Hazel's heavy breathing, then her laughter.
He stopped and listened.
It took Hazel several seconds to control her mirth. "You and Coach are both a couple of short-horned bastards!" she said. "Why, I know a high school boy who's got more cock than both of you put together!"
She means me, Spud thought, going hot and cold all over! What better invitation could a guy want? He made a break for the front door to join Hazel and Jake.
He surprised them, of course, but not enough to break them apart. They rolled on the carpet and moaned.
"Join us?" Hazel invited, looking up.
It was like watching a hot movie. Spud's desire was great, and his cock begged to be stuck somewhere. He wanted to become a part of that writhing and frantic groaning, but he didn't know where to begin. He made a start, however, and slipped off his pants and shorts. His naked cock throbbed until it hurt.
"Oh, God," Jake groaned, biting Hazel's neck until she screamed. "I'm coming -" He jerked in a couple of spasms, and it was over.
Hazel pushed him off and he rolled onto the floor, lying there on his back, exhausted. He stayed there for some minutes.
"Go upstairs and clean up," Hazel ordered. Then, to Spud, "You can have it later."
Jake went to the bathroom and returned in one of Hazel's fancy gowns. Spud could hardly believe it. Jake in drag!
He'd fixed his face with Hazel's paint and powder. He looked like a woman - if you didn't look below the belt - and not a bad one at that!
He came up and rested a hand on Spud's knee. "What do you think of this?" he asked.
Spud couldn't think of an answer.
"Coach thinks I'm his boy, but I'm not!" Jake offered. "Nothing can stop me when I see something I like - and I like you, Spud."
He was eyeing Spud's cock.
"You and Coach must have a ball," Spud said sourly.
"You'd better believe it! Come, let me sh you what I do to him!"
He had made Spud lose his erection. H noticed and asked, "Does the sight of J nakedness bother you, Spud?"
"Hell, no!" Spud said.
She fingered his cock, and it began to stiffen. All at once, he was hotter than hell. He got Hazel onto the floor, and went in quick and deep. He was where the action was, up to the hilt!
She squeezed him with her cunt, holding him tightly, and rubbing her tits against his chest, doing everything she could to make him lose his wad. Spud decided not to fool around. He went as deep as he could, making her gasp. And then he spurted.
She held on, sucking her breath in, her pussy squeezing his cock. He kept fucking it. Man, she was good! He fed it to her until it began to go soft.
"Okay," she said, "you've had it. Get up."
Spud sighed. "Shit," he said, when he pulled it out of her.
It wasn't five minutes until he was homy as hell again. He mounted Hazel once more. It took him a few seconds to realize that Jake was on him, leaning over his shoulder, seeking his mouth. Spud turned his head.
What the hell, he thought. But he was too hot to be difficult. And, anyway, unusual situations called for unusual measures.
In the center of a dog pile, he took his time with Hazel, working slow. He felt Jake's mouth and tongue running over his back, his neck.
Slowly, Jake traced the line of his spine with his tongue, and Spud's body jerked in response to his touch. He moaned when Jake's tongue reached the dark cleft of his ass. It lingered there at the base of his cock, licking both cock and pussy, then went to his dangling balls. He knew now that Jake was watching his cock piston in and out of Hazel.
Hazel forced his cock out of her pussy, and instantly, Jake's mouth went over it, down to its base. Spud moaned his pleasure and turned on his side to give Jake better access to his cock. Jake took turns licking his cock and tongue-fucking Hazel's pussy. It was something new and different to Spud - something very wild.
When Spud mounted Hazel again, Jake climbed on top of him. Spud felt Jake's hard cock against his asshole and tensed.
"Hold still," Jake ordered. "I've got to put this hot stick somewhere. I'll be gentle." He moaned as he pressed his hardness against Spud's hole.
Spud wouldn't allow himself to be fucked, but he let Jake ride him. As he plunged in and out of Hazel, Jake imitated the rhythm.
Hazel came first, gasping and sobbing, clawing at both men. Suddenly, Jake came hotly all over Spud's ass. He clung to Spud for a moment to regain his breath, before he rolled to the floor and lay on his back. He lay there and watched Spud pump it into Hazel.
"Don't tell me you haven't shot your load!" Jake grinned.
Just at that moment, Spud exploded. He lay on Hazel, his cock still stiff inside her.
Jake got up and disappeared for a minute. He came back with a damp towel, separated Spud from Hazel, and cleaned both of them. The hand and the towel began to warm Spud, and he heard Jake whisper, "Let me -" Spud let him. His cock was only half-erect when Jake took it into his hot mouth. As Jake gripped his ass and began sucking, Spud felt his cock swell in Jake's mouth, and it was only a few seconds until the warm cream drained from him again.
Hazel said, "I see you're not used to our games. Like 'em, Spud?"
"I guess," Spud said, rolling, exhausted, onto the floor. "It's all new to me."
"It's okay," she said. "You're among friends."
Jake was silent.
Hazel added, "Spud's pretty wonderful, don't you think, Jake?"
Winking at Spud, he suggested, "We should try it again sometime!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Up in his room that night, Spud chastised himself for what he had let Jake do. Then he tried to rationalize. It was just pure sex for the sake of sex, nothing more. He had no feeling, no attachment, for Jake.
But, still, he could have refused. He shouldn't have allowed himself to become involved.
He continued to debate with himself for a long time. He liked Hazel's pussy. It was good. It should have been all a guy wanted. Yet, he had wanted more. In a way, he had enjoyed what Jake had done to him, and he had to admit that Jake's masculine flesh had aroused him. It had made the tide of desire flow freely through him. It had made fucking Hazel more fun. But he was just a little scared about it. Was he queer?
Spud did not lie to himself. He had wanted Jake to blow him, and he had liked it. The very thought aroused him even now. He even wished he had let Jake fuck him, just to see how it felt. But he wished now for some broad to take the edge off what he'd done.
But not Hazel this time.
Hazel had been too much a part of the incident with Jake, and he wasn't sure he wanted to screw her again.
He couldn't sleep. He got up, dressed, and slipped outside. He went out behind the garage and sat down, letting thoughts of Donna take over.
He thought about making her his bedfellow again and came up with a number of barriers. It wasn't that she might not put out to him, or even the money she might want. She had liked his bigness and boldness and he bet he could fuck her for free.
Under the circumstances, however, Donna was as dangerous as TNT.
Spud's better judgment told him to count Donna out.
But his restlessness and indecisions tugged away at him, and the next morning at breakfast, his pop broke in on Spud's glum thoughts. He hadn't been able to avoid his old man that morning. He'd slipped quietly to the table amid his pop's ravings. His old man was loudly condemning the school, Coach, Hazel Rankin, and anyone else whose name came to his mind. Man, he was popping his gums!
An uneasiness seeped into Spud. He was sure his pop had been talking to old Editor Millhouse, for he knew entirely too much about Hazel. He half-expected him to explode any moment with a juicy news item that would include him. And that would be the day! The end of the world!
Spud nearly fainted when, his pop suddenly shook his finger in his face. "Where were you last night?" he demanded.
Spud shouldn't have been shook up over a question like that. He got them every day.
But he gulped.
"We worry about you, Gilbert," his mom whined. "With all these awful things going on right under our noses, no person's safe. And there are such terrible things to tempt young folks these days."
"I haven't been tempted!" Spud lied.
He knew 'those awful temptations' meant sex, and he wanted to laugh and tell his mom that ever since Adam and Eve, people had been tempted. Hell, where would the population come from if they weren't? He knew enough, though, to keep his mouth shut.
Anyway, his pop was doing all the talking.
Spud lost his appetite and pushed back his plate.
"You haven't finished yet, have you, Gilbert?" his mom asked. "You haven't eaten enough to keep a bird alive."
"I'll make out!" Spud said. He hated it when his mom treated him like a child. He started to get up and leave the table. "Sit down!" bellowed his pop. Spud sat down.
And now, his pop went right on raving. Spud couldn't take it any longer. He asked as politely as he could if he might be excused. And he was surprised when his pop granted m permission. He dragged himself out and sat the front steps. Somebody hissed at him. He looked, and Frani was coming toward him. Spud was so tickled to see her he didn't know what to say or do. He got to his feet and stuttered, "What are you doing in this part of the world, Frani?" "I have to see you, Spud." She had come up to the porch. She wore a red dress with little gold figures on it, and she looked beautiful, though her face was flushed, and her red lips quivered. Spud gathered her into his arms and kissed her. She didn't exactly try to fight back, or get away. "We've got to talk, Spud," she said in a hoarse, weepy voice that kind of scared Sp She sounded urgent.
They sat on the steps together. "All right, Frani, I'm listening," he said.
She was almost breathless. "I heard dad talking to mom this morning," she got out. "He said Mrs. Rankin entertains men!"
Frani's wide eyes and pale face showed her shock, and she looked at Spud as though she thought he should have been keeping a closer watch on his neighbor.
"It's not true!" he defended.
But Frani continued, anyway. "Editor Millhouse is telling scandalous things about Mrs. Rankin-and Coach! And dad says that any woman who would betray her husband is -" Frani halted. She couldn't repeat what her father had said. But she added, "Mr. Millhouse wants to run her out of the community. And he's making plans to do just that!"
Spud quivered. "It's old Rankin they ought to run out!" he said hotly. "He's no husband to Hazel, and he ain't worth a good goddamn at school! He don't care what Hazel does!"
Frani was sobbing. "Something terrible is going to happen," she prophesied.
"Like what?"
"Maybe Mr. Rankin will find out about his wife and shoot her - kill her!"
Spud growled, "He ain't got the guts!"
"Spud?"
"What, Frani?"
"You didn't go to Donna's 'F' Club meeting, did you?"
Spud didn't tell her. He just asked, "So what?"
"Promise me, Spud - promise me you won't go - ever!" "Why?"
"Daddy said over the phone that there's going to be a raid. Spud, maybe we should warn everybody."
"Love me, Frani?'" "Spud, not now -" "Date me Friday night, and I promise I won't give Donna's old club another thought." Frani hesitated.
Spud's anger took over. "What's the matter? I'm not good enough?"
Frani's tearful eyes also held hurt. "You know it's not that, Spud."
"Then what's bugging you?"
"Spud, there's a ball game Friday night - and I've already promised to stay with Coach's wife. If it weren't for that -" "Yeah?"
"Please, Spud, believe me. Mrs. Nichols is ready to have her baby. She shouldn't be left alone."
"Then Coach should stay home with her!" Spud flared.
Later that morning, Spud moseyed down to the ice plant. Bryce Griffin was in his cubby hole of an office. He'd been working over his ledger. Some dame was in the office with him.
"Meet Gracie," Bryce said, looking up and grinning at Spud. He loosened his belt and trousers, arched back, and stretched. Spud figured he'd already screwed the lady. "Might as well give up the old work and get comfortable," Bryce said. "Spud, why don't you fetch us some beers from the ice box?"
Spud went to the refrigerator. When he came back, he gave Gracie a beer, then handed a can to Bryce. The can was shiny and slippery wet. Beer sloshed onto Bryce's chest and belly.
He yelled, "That's cold, man!" The beer trailed down and wet the front of his pants.
"Sorry," Spud said.
"You got a shower - a golden shower!" Gracie laughed.
Spud didn't dig her. He apologized again, and Bryce laughed.
"It's all right," he said. "I was needing a shower. After we drink our beers, we can all soap up, eh?" Bryce started stripping out of his clothing, down to his briefs. He shot his hand down the top of his elastic briefs, down to his pubic hairs, and pretended to be scratching.
"You got the itch?" Gracie asked.
Bryce said, "I think it's crabs!"
Spud said, "Yeah, I could do with a shower, too, a real cold shower."
They drank their beers.
Then they stripped and showered, all three of them.
The way Grade's tits jiggled fascinated Spud. He caught her flicking her eyes over him. Was she reading his thoughts? If so, she ought to start itching in the pussy. She was a pretty good-looking broad, with beautiful legs, and a bouncy behind.
Spud's cock hardened. Did the way Gracie looked at him mean she liked a big, thick cock? Probably.
She began to tease him. "Shit, boy, you don't have to take no goddamned back seat to anybody in the pecker department!" she said. Sht caught Bryce by his cock and pulled him and Spud together so she could measure their pricks. Bryce had a big one, too. They looked like twins.
Gracie was all hot and bothered and wanted to hump, Spud could tell. He wondered if he should fuck her, or wait and let Bryce have it first. He looked at Bryce, and Bryce winked for him to go on.
Spud got his finger into her pussy. It felt wet and tight. When he tried to ram her, his cock wouldn't go in. He worked like hell, humping and prodding upward. It was frustrating.
Finally, he gave up.
Gracie knelt and began sucking his cock. Bryce had turned off the shower, and the little room was silent. The sound of Grade's lips on his cock sounded loud to Spud. Bryce was staring.
Gracie reached for Bryce. She pulled him close, and he began to move his hips, his big cock stuck out in front of him. Her red lips left Spud's prong and clamped around his. Spud looked up and saw Bryce smile.
"Je-zus, I want to fuck it!" Spud exclaimed.
Grade's lips left Bryce's big cock. "C'mon," she said to Spud. "Let's try it on the floor."
She lay on the floor, legs splayed. Spud dived at her, scrambled between her legs, and she took his cock in her hand. "Easy, boy!"
Spud tried to thrust it in.
It wouldn't go.
Bryce came to the rescue with some Vaseline. "Here," he said, "try some of this, Spud."
Bryce said. "Spud, why don't you fetch us so beers from the ice box?"
Spud went to the refrigerator. When he came back, he gave Gracie a beer, then handed a can to Bryce. The can was shiny and slippery wet Beer sloshed onto Bryce's chest and belly.
He yelled, "That's cold, man!" The trailed down and wet the front of his pants.
"Sorry," Spud said.
"You got a shower - a golden shower!' Gracie laughed.
Spud didn't dig her. He apologized again, an Bryce laughed.
"It's all right," he said. "I was needing a shower. After we drink our beers, we can all soap up, eh?" Bryce started stripping out of his clothing, down to his briefs. He shot his nan down the top of his elastic briefs, down to pubic hairs, and pretended to be scratching.
"You got the itch?" Gracie asked.
Bryce said, "I think it's crabs!"
Spud said, "Yeah, I could do with a shower too, a real cold shower."
They drank their beers.
Then they stripped and showered, all three o them.
The way Grade's tits jiggled fascinated Spud He caught her flicking her eyes over him. Was she reading his thoughts? If so, she ought i start itching in the pussy. She was a pretty good-looking broad, with beautiful legs, and bouncy behind.
Spud's cock hardened. Did the way Graci looked at him mean she liked a big, thick cock. Probably.
She began to tease him. "Shit, boy, you don't have to take no goddamned back seat to anybody in the pecker department!" she said. She caught Bryce by his cock and pulled him and Spud together so she could measure their pricks. Bryce had a big one, too. They looked like twins.
Gracie was all hot and bothered and wanted to hump, Spud could tell. He wondered if he should fuck her, or wait and let Bryce have it first. He looked at Bryce, and Bryce winked for him to go on.
Spud got his finger into her pussy. It felt wet and tight. When he tried to ram her, his cock wouldn't go in. He worked like hell, humping and prodding upward. It was frustrating.
Finally, he gave up.
Gracie knelt and began sucking his cock. Bryce had turned off the shower, and the little room was silent. The sound of Grade's lips on his cock sounded loud to Spud. Bryce was staring.
Gracie reached for Bryce. She pulled him close, and he began to move his hips, his big cock stuck out in front of him. Her red lips left Spud's prong and clamped around his. Spud looked up and saw Bryce smile.
"Je-zus, I want to fuck it!" Spud exclaimed.
Grade's lips left Bryce's big cock. "C'mon," she said to Spud. "Let's try it on the floor."
She lay on the floor, legs splayed. Spud dived at her, scrambled between her legs, and she took his cock in her hand. "Easy, boy!"
Spud tried to thrust it in.
It wouldn't go.
Bryce came to the rescue with some Vaseline. "Here," he said, "try some of this, Spud."
Spud let Gracie lubricate his prick.
She guided it once more to her pussy. Spud jabbed and thrust it in.
Gracie squealed. It must have been painful at first. But Spud began to fuck her and she remained silent. He screwed her with long strokes, and pretty soon she was giggling lightly. He knew she was enjoying it.
Bryce laughed nervously. "How's it feel, honey?" he asked.
"It feels great!" She laughed and whispered to Spud, "Harder!"
He rammed her with all he had. Her legs kicked up and she giggled aloud, then squealed her pleasure. She bit his ear. "Now!" she said urgently. She pulled at him with arms and legs.
He knew she wanted him to shoot it. He grunted and increased his rhythm. "Oooooh, aaaaah," she sighed. Spud's gism began to swell up in him. He gasped a little, ramming and bucking hard. And then he came!
He heard her shriek. She screamed out, and there was an answering moan from Bryce. Spud felt it spurting out of him, heard her squeals of pleasure, her hard breathing - and then it was over.
Gracie pushed at him. "Get off," she said.
He lay on her a few seconds longer, then quickly pulled his dripping cock from her, and got up. He hurried to the shower room to clean up.
When he came back, Bryce was in her. "I could fuck you all night," he said. "And a couple of days!"
She giggled.
Bryce looked up at Spud. "You warmed her up, all right," he said. "She's hot for it!" He reared up and took his cock out. She took it in her hands and massaged it hotly. Spud bent down and ticked her cunt. It was sopping. When he fingered it, she squirmed.
She let go of Bryce's prick, and he slid it into her. When he thrust, she sighed and wiggled her fanny. He fucked her hard and fast. She was crazy for it. She was a dame hot in the snatch, crazy for it. Funny how some dames could get so hot in the pussy.
Bryce's cock was reaming in and out. Suddenly, they both came. Spud knew the moment it happened by the convulsions of their bodies. They both breathed hard and shuddered.
At last, Bryce dragged his cock out, got up, and turned to Spud. He came close, his steel cock pointing outward. "Feel it," he said. "It's throbbing for more!"
Spud gave it a hard squeeze. "Hey, this ain't normal," he teased.
"Maybe not," Bryce said, "but it's fun."
They horsed around, having fun, until Spud caught Gracie staring at them.
"Let me," she said, pulling both of them to her. "One of you can have the front door. The other can come in the back way!"
Spud rammed her pussy. Bryce fucked her from behind. Man, she was full of cock, and she seemed to like every inch of it. Her pussy was juicy and its lips closed over Spud's swollen organ, then sucked as he moaned.
Bryce was thrusting into her from behind, and Spud could feel his hardness there inside her, against his own. It was a good show, but it didn't last long. Suddenly, all three of them were coming all over the place. It was about as intense an orgasm as Spud had ever had. It drained him.
They fell to the floor and rested.
Then they showered again.
Spud and Bryce lingered after Gracie got out. When they left the shower, Gracie was gone.
Bryce began to laugh about the way he'd banged Gracie in the ass.
"You get it that way very often?" Spud inquired.
"Oh, once in a while," Bryce admitted. "It's tight, but what I really like is, nobody's going to get knocked up higher than a kite.
Spud thought that over as he drank another beer with Bryce.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Spud's mom sent him out to empty the garbage.
Spud had a very unpleasant feeling inside himself -a sort of low-down, blue, and lonesome feeling.
And it centered around sex.
Spud felt all mixed up. Both Coach and Bryce Griffin had given him a lot of good advice and had taught him about women. Spud had come to depend on Bryce, just as he had on Coach. All summer long, they'd done things together over the week-ends, and theirs had grown to be a pretty good friendship.
But Spud was disturbed now about the incident with Gracie. It had been too intense. .
He didn't see Hazel Rankin until she called, "Hi, there!" She added, "What's with the speed demon this morning?"
"What's it to you?" Spud growled.
"Oh, the kid's not very cordial!" Hazel exclaimed.
She wore only a robe, and now she let it gape open. Spud looked good, then thought: what difference does it make? She didn't turn him on now, like she had.
She stood there before him, her hands on her hips, looking at him invitingly.
"What you want, Hazel?" Spud asked roughly, figuring her pussy was getting hot.
"What's got your temper up?" Hazel asked. "Usually it's your throbbing cock that goes up!"
When Spud didn't answer, she asked for a cigarette.
Reluctantly, Spud fished his pack from his shirt pocket and gave Hazel a cigarette, then lit one himself.
Hazel blew smoke, then asked, "Who was the girl?"
"You mean, on my front porch?" Spud didn't want to tell her, but finally he said, "Frani Cravens. She's a nice chick."
Hazel turned, as if she were angry, and started back to the house. Spud watched her hips wiggle, but it gave him no buzz.
He grinned. Funny - he'd been just a little bit jealous of Jake Sears at first. But now Hazel was jealous, too, and the knowledge soothed his feelings. He picked up the trash basket and went back to the kitchen.
His mom had gone to the store for groceries, and the house was quiet. The quietness was broken when the phone rang. He frowned when he said into the mouthpiece, "Spud Jamison speaking."
"I'd like to see you, Spud," Coach said in his baritone voice.
"What about?" Spud growled.
"Several urgent matters, Spud. For one thing, I want to warn you about Hazel Rankin. Her husband knows she's getting laid. But we can't talk over the phone -" Sweat popped out on Spud's face. He wiped it off with his sleeve, figuring he'd better have a talk with Coach.
"All right," he said. "Three-thirty be okay?"
"Yes. In my office."
After he hung up, Spud went to his room and lay on his bed. He felt restless and wished he had the use of the car his pop had denied him. He hated to walk all the way to school to see Coach, but he supposed he'd better.
He stretched out on the bed. Problems! Man, could a guy pile up a bunch of problems! He was breathing hard, staring up at the ceiling. But that was life, he guessed. All at once, he was remembering that hell of a party with Hazel and Jake. He'd really played the fool - the part of a sex-starved idiot!
That unpleasant, tormenting feeling got inside him.
He got up and went to the window. As he looked out, Frani wormed her way into his thoughts. Spud decided there were two kinds of women - Frani's kind, honest and decent - and there w:n. the Donna Overstreets and Hazel Rankins, bitches at heart.
And when - man married, he wanted the Frani type!
Je-zus. He felt restless. He needed his car! If he didn't get out of the house, he'd go nuts, for sure! Even walking, he decided, would be better than remaining in that creepy house.
It was much too early to see Coach, of course. He left the house, however, and headed down the street toward school.
But, instead of going on to school, he detoured to Donna Overstreet's house.
She was at home, alone.
"We belong to the same Lonely Hearts Club," she told him, inviting him in. "Spud, I'm glad to see you!"
She had on a pair of sleazy lounging pajamas that really didn't hide anything. Right away, Spud felt his cock stir. When he tried to get to Donna, she pushed him away. "I don't feel like fighting, Spud," she said.
"Come on, Donna. A little fuckin' might do you good," Spud said.
He backed her to the wall.
"Please, no, Spud" she begged.
His mouth, hot and wet, found hers. His fingers closed over her tits and dug in.
"You gonna make me rape you?" Spud asked, fighting to catch his breath. "Or are you gonna warm up and get your kicks, too?"
Spud had a hell of a lot of strength and energy. He got Donna on the floor and started working her over.
The floor wasn't like a bed, but it would have "Jesus Christ, Spud," Donna swore, "I'm worried, and I ain't in no mood to get screwed."
"Let me get you in the mood! My nuts are aching for you!"
He was on top of her, trying to get his pants down. She pushed on his fly and felt his hard cock. She giggled. Hell, she was warming up. Donna wasn't the kind to pass up a little fucking.
"Take it out!" he ordered.
She unzipped the fly, groped in for his big, hard pecker, and took it out. Her fingers played with its bulbous head. She stroked the whole thing lightly.
"You really want to stick it in me, don't you?" she asked.
"My baby's crying for your pussy! See?"
His dong was oozing juice.
She tickled the end of it. "Keep it that way, Spud," she said. She handled his cock, keeping it Her gorgeous, naked body was under him. He pushed her head down and widened her legs.
She grabbed his shoulders, hissing at him, "Lemme sack it off!"
He didn't want it that way. He pushed his prong into her, lifting her thighs and thrusting deep.
Her warm breath was on his cheek, her gorgeous titties cuddled against his chest. He fucked her hotly, violently, pumping it in to the hilt. He jabbed her fast and rubbed her clit, making her squirm. Hell, she was liking it. Her sinuous body craved him, every inch of him. She was panting and moaning with sheer delight. He knew he'd made her come, and her spasms excited him. His driving cock spouted, fountained, and he gasped, ramming her desperately.
They clung together, sweaty and naked, still slow-fucking, losing tempo and shuddering in sweet anguish as they kissed deeply. God, Donna was good stuff!
They lay together for a while. Donna began sucking his ear. She bit it gently.
"Hey!" he yelled.
She sighed, "You want to do it again?" "I've got a lot of fuck left in me, baby!" Spud said softly.
He felt her nuzzle him, squeeze with her cunt. She fucked him hotly for a minute. Then she said, "Better take it out."
He obeyed, moving back slowly, letting his long cock drag out of her lovely pussy slowly. She sighed and began biting her lips, and Spud knew she wanted it stuck to her again.
He rammed it back in. Oh, Christ, she fucked better than anyone he had ever known! It wasn't a minute until he was filling her full of come again.
He scooped her up and carried her to her bed. Then he staggered off to the bathroom. Donna didn't say a word about money.
Spud left her and went on to the gym. He found Coach in his office, typing.
"Hi, Coach," Spud said.
"Hi, Spud. How've you been?"
"Fucked out, Coach," Spud admitted.
Coach grinned. "Yeah, I hear you've been making it pretty often."
"Someone talking?"
"Yeah, and some things I hear don't sound normal!" Coach needled.
Spud blushed and became self-conscious. But, shit, who was Coach to talk? He knew it had been Jake Sears who had done the talking. Back there on the floor in Hazel's living room, anything could happen, and did. It had seemed all right then. But here, in the light of day, it was another matter.
"Coach, is -is it so bad?" Spud ventured. "Coach, I've got to know!"
Coach continued jesting. "I'm a married man, Spud. How would I know?"
Spud wanted to remind him of the incident in the shower, but he didn't. He watched Coach cover the typewriter and shove some papers into his desk. "How about a Coke, Spud?" he asked.
"Sounds good to me."
Spud was damned glad Coach had changed the subject.
"Make yourself comfortable while I go to the Coke machine."
Spud tried to, though he felt nervous. Coach came back with the cold Coke bottles, gave one to Spud, and took a slow drink out of his. "Hey, I hear what you stick to Hazel Rankin makes her scream with delight!" he teased.
"She likes it!" Spud said.
"I hear Jake's pretty fond of it, too," Coach said.
Spud blushed and ducked his head. But he had noticed that Coach was getting a hard-on. Hard and swollen, his cock was no bigger than Jake's.
Before Spud realized fully what was going on, Coach groped him.
Spud pulled away, but grinned up at Coach. "Seems you like it, too," Spud said.
"Spud, anything will do when a guy needs it like I do! It's hell when you can't get your rocks off at home!"
"Coach?"
"Yeah, Spud?"
"You like women, don't you? You've fucked Donna - Hazel -" "Yes, Spud, but I'm scared of Hazel. She's dangerous now, since her old man knows she's getting pumped. And Donna - Donna's a whore!"
Donna's bright yellow sweater came quickly to Spud's mind. He thought he'd be sick.
Coach continued, "Spud, you're young, and you have a lot to learn. You'll learn there are all kinds of people in this world - and kicks to satisfy every one of them. But Spud -" "Yeah?"
"You sort of love Frani Cravens, don't you?" "Yeah, I think I do." "Then save yourself for her, Spud." Spud thought that over. One thing sure, there'd be no more Jakes sucking on his lollipop - no more Coaches groping his basket.
Let them get together and form their own club!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gloom hovered over the Jamison household like a heavy log. Spud moped around. He knew he should stop Donna Overstreet from going through with her 'F' Club meeting, if he could. But Donna was determined and stubborn. With all the talk going around about Donna, about a possible raid, and about old Rankin's wife getting laid, it seemed wise to Spud to forego certain pleasures for the moment.
Spud's mom wept all the time, and his pop stayed mad. Breakfast that morning was like a funeral.
"If you're not going to school any more, Gilbert," his mom said finally, choking off her sobs, "you'd better get out and find yourself a job."
"You damned right!" his pop added. "Goddamn it!" Spud swore. "Just goddamn it!"
"Gilbert, you stop that evil talk!" his mom scolded.
"The law's gonna take care of some of you smart-alecks," his pop warned.
After an eternity, the meal was over.
Spud's pop got up and went to work.
Spud's mom untied her apron.
"You going out, mom?" Spud asked hopefully.
"Just to the store, Gilbert. I won't be gone long."
She'd be gone long enough for Spud to get on the phone and call up a few people before they headed for school.
As soon as his mom left, he made about a dozen calls. Most of the kids refused to discuss Donna's club over the phone. Maybe they'd been sworn to silence, Spud thought. Or maybe their folks were listening. He rang up Mike Jennings, who was one of Donna's more steady customers, along with Kirk Myers.
"Listen, Spud, I'm in a hurry," Mike growled. "This is a hell of a time to call anybody -" Mike was about to hang up, so Spud hurried. "It's important, Mike! It's about Donna's 'F' Club."
"Shut up, Spud! You want the operator to hear?"
"Shell hear plenty, along with everybody else, if you don't listen to me!"
Mike calmed down a little. "Okay, but make it speedy!" Spud leaned closer to the mouthpiece and spoke in a whisper. "You're hoping for a scholarship, right?"
"What's that got to do with it? What's this all about?"
"Mike, Donna's only seventeen -" "So what? She knows the score! You gettin' moral, or something?" Mike hung up.
The morning sun slammed through the window and hit Spud in the face. The day promised to be rather warm and uncomfortable - warm and uncomfortable in a couple of ways. Of course, most of those messed up with Donna's club assumed that too many prominent people were involved for things to get out of hand. But Spud wasn't so sure. Take men like old Mill house. When he started pushing a matter, he carried it as far as he could.
But there was no use to try to talk to anybody. No one would listen. Spud moseyed outside am found himself wandering aimlessly down the street, not knowing or caring where his feet were taking him.
An old car pulled up to the curb. Coach called to him.
Something about the way Coach looked made Spud's skin crawl. He looked debauched and made Spud recall the incident in the shower. If Coach was wanting somebody s lollipop to suck on, to hell with him! Spud turned away, unable to offer the most elementary civilities.
Coach called, "Spud -" "Shit on you! Leave me alone!"
Coach's voice was soft. "Spud, please don't -" Furious enough to take a swing at Coach, Spud stopped and turned. "Coach, I don't like you worth a good goddamn!" he hurled. "How can a married man with a nice wife do the things you do, you prick-lickin' son-of-a -" Coach didn't let him finish.
"It takes two to tango, ole buddy!" he butted in. He stared at Spud sardonically a moment or two, then gave a short laugh.
"What's so funny?" Spud demanded, feeling sick.
Coach continued smiling at him.
Spud walked away and just wandered around. What Coach had said got into him and made him feel guilty. "It takes two to tango." Well, he guessed he'd tangoed, and he wondered what would happen next.
It was Friday, he recalled, and there would be a ball game that night. Donna's club would meet afterwards.
Maybe Coach had wanted him to play in the game. But he wouldn't be at the game. He wouldn't be at Donna's old club meeting, either!
He was out of everything!
He went into the drugstore and bought a comic book. Then he ordered a Coke and carried it and the book to a booth. He read the comic book but didn't find anything in it funny.
It was evening, and the sky was dark when he started home. He took a short cut, and when he came to his street, he noticed that his house was dark. He remembered it was the night his mom and pop would go to their bridge game.
The Rankin house was dark, too. Old Rankin, of course, would be up at the ball game. He figured Hazel would sneak off to Donna's club, but to hell with her, he thought with bitter frustration. Spud's head ached, and he had a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
When he entered the dark and empty house, the living room forlornly echoed his footsteps. He glanced at his watch. The ball game had started. Now, it wouldn't be too long until Donna's club members would start gathering at her house.
He thought about turning on TV and watching the game. Outside, the lightning flashed, and there were distant rumbles of thunder. Spud switched on TV, but got nothing but static.
Sure as hell, there was going to be a downpour.
The house was too quiet. He felt terribly alone as he wiped his sleeve across his eyes and cursed the TV set.
The phone rang.
He cursed again as he went to answer the phone.
But when he heard Frani's excited voice, he became frightened.
"What is it, Frani?" he asked. "Where are you? What's wrong?"
Twice, she tried to tell him, but her sobs choked off her words.
Unsteady with his own mounting fright, Spud begged, "Please, Frani, stop crying. Tell me what's the matter."
"Spud - I know it's late, and everything -" "It's okay. Just tell me where you are. What's wrong!"
He could hear her choke back her sobs. "I'm at Coach's house," she managed.
"So -?"
He heard Frani sob. "Is it Coach's wife?" he asked quickly, remembering. "Frani, do - do you want me?"
"Spud, there's nobody else. My folks are gone. If you could come - right away -" "Sure, Frani."
Spud's heart pounded fast as he rushed up to his parents' bedroom. Somewhere in there, his pop had hidden his car keys. He went through dresser drawers until he found them.
It took him a long time to get his old car started. It coughed and died on him, then coughed and died again. It must have been half an hour from the time Frani called until he reached Coach's house.
Frani met him at the door. She seemed calmer now than she'd sounded over the phone. "If this is just a false alarm, Spud, you won't be mad, will you?" she asked, looking a little sheepish.
"Is - is Mrs. Nichols having her baby?" Spud gulped.
A scared look came over Frani's face. "I don't know -" Spud grabbed her and tried to kiss the scared look away.
She pushed him back. "Mrs. Nichols is awfully sick. She said not to call the doctor. But, Spud, I - I don't think she's getting any better."
"Is she in labor?" Spud asked, the terrible thought paralyzing him. When he could get his voice, he added, "I'd better go get Coach."
"Mrs. Nichols says not to. When I wanted to call the school, she wouldn't let me. She says she can't be in labor, that the baby isn't due for a week."
"Babies get in a hurry sometimes. Sometimes they come early."
Over Mrs. Nichols' protests from the bedroom, Spud hurried to the phone and called the school. Old Rankin answered and said the ball game was over and that Coach wasn't around.
"Maybe he's on his way home," Spud said.
"He said something about going to town," Mrs. Nichols groaned. "He may be late getting home."
"Town, shit!" Spud said under his breath. He started to tell Frani where Coach would be, then decided not to. He said, "At least, we'd better call the doctor."
"No," Mrs. Nichols protested from her bed. "I've had these pains before. They'll go away.
They're not labor pains.
Spud hurried into the bedroom ready to argue.
Coach's wife lay on the white sheets, her eyes closed. As Spud glanced down, he was poignantly aware of her swollen body, the hollowness of her face, the dark circles under her closed eyes.
She opened her eyes and smiled up weakly. "Hello, Gilbert," she said.
Suddenly, she started writhing and biting her lips. Another pain had hit her. It passed, and she turned frightened eyes up to Spud.
Her eyes filled with tears, and Spud didn't know if they were the result of her recent pains, or from not knowing where Coach was. He figured she was in labor.
"I'm going to get Coach!" he said, his voice quavering.
"Don't leave me alone here," Frani begged, holding on to him.
Another pain convulsed Mrs. Nichols, and when it passed, she told Frani to call the doctor. She was sort of holding her breath, as if expecting another pain to stab her.
When fright glued Frani to the floor, Spud moved to the phone. He'd already noticed the slip of paper with the doctor's number on it, and the doctor's name. As he dialed, Frani again begged him not to leave her.
"But I've got to get Coach!" he croaked, as scared now as Frani was.
He'd received no answer. He dialed again.
Behind him, Frani was crying. "Spud," she sobbed, "I don't know what to do."
"Me, either!" Spud answered. "I've never been around a woman having a baby."
He'd watched a cow have her calf once, and she'd had no trouble. She'd been grazing with the other cows. Then she went off to he down by herself, and in a few minutes, the calf was coming. It was all over in less than no time, and she was up and licking her newborn calf.
He'd heard it was sometimes different with women.
Mrs. Nichols screamed.
Both Spud and Frani rushed to her. A pain, sharper and fiercer than the others, had cramped her. It eased away slowly, but it left her face pinched and white. When she could move, she leaned clumsily on one elbow and looked at the clock. "I must start checking the intervals between pains," she told them.
"You're having your baby?" Spud choked.
Mrs. Nichols lay back on the pillows before she answered. "Don't be scared. There's plenty of time yet. Just keep trying to get the doctor."
While Spud tried the phone again, Frani got warm, damp cloths and bathed Mrs. Nichols' face. Fright stiffened Spud. He hoped he could get through to the doctor before the baby came.
He'd never realized that having babies was anything like this. It made him terribly sober.
He dialed the doctor's number.
No answer.
He heard Mrs. Nichols gasp for breath.
"I'm going for Coach!" he said, replacing the receiver. "Frani, you keep trying to get the doc."
"No," Mrs. Nichols begged, "I want to spare him the gory details."
Spud thought: if this were Frani having my baby, I'd want to be right by her side. Frani was dialing. There was an interval of silence, then she talked to somebody. After she hung up, she turned and said, "I got Doctor Rogers. He's sending an ambulance and says he'll be waiting in the labor room."
Spud saw Mrs. Nichols bite her lips. Another pain crushed her. If the baby came before the ambulance arrived, he didn't know what Frani and he would do.
He couldn't think. He couldn't move for a time. Fright had paralyzed him.
Mrs. Nichols began thrashing her arms and legs about on the bed. Frani started crying. When her pain left, Mrs. Nichols was crying, too. It was all Spud could do not to join them.
Then Mrs. Nichols wiped her eyes with her hand and smiled wanly.
She got out of bed and started walking around. "I remember now, the doctor said I should walk," she told Spud and Frani.
Her stomach was terribly swollen. Another pain caught her while she was on her feet and she would have fallen if Spud hadn't caught her.
"Oh, God, help me! Help me!" she screamed.
Her screams grew louder and seemed to tear her throat. They curdled Spud's blood. "Keep bathing her face," he told Frani. "I've got to go after Coach!"
He ran out to his car parked on the driveway. When he tried to start it up, it wouldn't spark off.
He tried again. Nothing happened.
He jumped out and started running wildly. He came to a phone booth and dialed Donna Overstreet's number. Some clown answered the phone and refused to call Donna. The bastard wouldn't even say if Coach was there, or not.
Spud tried Hazel Rankin's number and let the phone ring six times.
No answer.
He tried City Hall, thinking Coach might be down there with Jake. Somebody told him it was Jake's night off.
He ran back to the house.
Mrs. Nichols was lying on the bedroom floor, amid a pool of water, having convulsions. Frani was hysterical. When Mrs. Nichols began to scream, Spud thought she would never stop. He wanted to get her back on the bed, but he was afraid to move her.
When she rolled back, Spud saw that the roundness of her belly had slipped down. He saw the baby's head there between her legs, trying to expel itself from her tortured body.
An ambulance screamed to a halt outside. Frani ran to the door to let two white-clad young men in. One of them carried a folded stretcher, the other a bag. The one with the bag bent over Mrs. Nichols, then opened the bag and gave her an injection in the arm.
Looking up at Frani, he asked, "Why wasn't a doctor notified?"
Frani was able to tell him about calling Doctor Rogers, who had ordered the ambulance.
"There's no cause for a woman to suffer like this," he said.
The other man unfolded the stretcher, and they put Mrs. Nichols on it and carried her to the ambulance. The shot must have knocked her out immediately, for she was quiet, like she was asleep.
As the ambulance drove away, Frani fell, exhausted, into Spud's arms. He held her for a long time, feeling a hundred years old -and very, very wise. He'd begun to see women in an entirely different light. They were not creatures to be played with and manipulated any more!
And sex took on a different meaning.
He hugged Frani to him, but he didn't go all hot for her. He wondered then, if Hazel could have had the baby she wanted, would she have been a different woman than she was?
And Donna - poor Donna - with the mother she had, the poor girl didn't stand a chance!
As the hot fire in Spud died, pity took over. It was like a soothing balm. He felt no desire for a promiscuous fucking party and wondered if he ever would again. Seeing Mrs. Nichols in the throes of childbirth, seeing a baby's head coming out of the place that had so often given him a kind of joy, he wondered if he'd ever want to bang some broad's pussy again.
The whole dreadful experience had made him a man!
When he could speak again, he told Frani, "There's nothing to worry about now. You stay here. I'm going to get Coach!"
He ran all the way to Donna's house.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Donna's house was dark, and Spud wondered if she'd decided not to have the meeting after all.
When he stepped up on the porch, two big-muscled fellows grabbed him.
"Hold it, Mac," one of them growled.
Spud, panting and gasping, said, "I've got to see Donna! I'm a friend!"
Behind those two brutes, the inside of the house loomed indistinctly. Spud supposed the meeting was being held in the basement. He had to get down there.
He made his voice sound rough. "Fuck off!" he said. "I'm going in!"
One of the fellows shoved him.
Spud doubled up his fists and caught him on the chin, sending him reeling. But the next thing he knew, both bastards had grabbed him. He kicked and fought viciously, but the two men were too much for him. He pounded one of them in the gut, but the other fellow's fist slammed into Spud's belly, and, for a long time, he couldn't get his breath.
He gasped as if he were drowning, and they shoved and boxed him around like a plaything while he struggled for air.
He felt his lungs fill up, and his strength rushed back to him. Two men against one, however, was no fair fight. Spud had taken about all he could endure when a female voice demanded, "What's going on out there?"
"Donna!" Spud cried.
With a smile for Spud, and a string of obscene words, she ordered the two brutes to let Spud in. His jaw felt as if he'd just come from the dentist's chair. With effort, he told Donna, "I've got to find Coach!"
Donna's grin was evil. "I'd like to find the fuckin' bastard, too!"
"You mean, he's not here?"
"Somebody stole him!"
"Who? Where?"
"Maybe Mrs. Rankin can tell you!" Donna said nastily.
Somebody handed Spud a can of beer. The can was opened, and its sides were frosty. He took a quick swallow, then tossed the can and the rest of its contents away.
The precious minutes were ticking by, and still he hadn't found Coach. He didn't want to think of the terrible pain Mrs. Nichols was going through, but he couldn't help it. He hoped the doctor had eased her some.
He started to leave the porch, but Donna grabbed him.
"Hey, Spud, where are you going? The action's here!" she said.
He didn't tell her. He just jerked away and started running.
He was only a few blocks from Donna's house, headed for the Rankin place, when he heard sirens screaming in the distance. Pretty soon, two police cars sped by. Then two more followed. He wondered vaguely if there was a fire somewhere.
To hell with fires! To hell with everything and everybody until he found Coach! He beat it on toward the Rankin house, thinking his lungs were going to burst. When he got there, the place was dark.
He ran back to City Hall. He didn't expect to find Coach there, but he wanted to know where Jake Sears lived. He asked, and the fellows down there started kidding him.
"What do you want ole Jake for?" somebody asked. "Want him to take your picture?"
"It's serious," Spud tried to explain, amid their laughter. "I've got to ask if he knows where I can find Coach Nichols!"
"Yeah, them two's been whoring around together lately!" another man said, "Might try Mamie's Parlor, eh, kid?"
Spud knew about Mamie's place of business. He was sure Coach wouldn't be there. Finally, somebody gave him Jake's address, and he lit out like he was going to a fire.
It was the address of a large apartment building, not far from City Hall. Spud got into the self-service elevator, and as he was lifted up to the fifth floor, he prayed that Coach would be up there.
He didn't bother to knock when he found Jake's apartment number and saw that the door was ajar. He pushed and went on in.
Jake, Coach, and some strange woman were there. Jake and the woman were naked, and Spud supposed they'd been fucking around. Coach, however, was fully dressed, and, at the moment, was engaged in conversation and didn't hear Spud come in.
Coach looked at Jake and laughed, "It's business, I guess," he said.
"I like monkey business better," Jake said, with a broad grin. He groped Coach, and the woman groped both men.
"Cool it!" Coach cautioned. "It's monkey business that's got a lot of kids in trouble."
Jake offered, "I'm wondering if they'll really arrest Donna Overstreet and her gang tonight." Then he added, "I felt it wise to skip her party."
"Yeah," Coach said, taking the woman's hand from his cock, "I'll settle for a can of beer and TV."
"I'll settle for this!" Jake said, unzipping his fly and pretending to beat his meat.
"Don't neither of you boys want no pussy?" the woman whined. "I thought, when I came up here -" Disgusted, Spud saw that Jake was hot and ready for some action. But it wasn't the woman he was after. It was Coach.
"Cool it," Coach advised. "Better be careful. These walls may have ears."
"It's not likely!" Jake was now beating away at his cock, trying to entice Coach.
"Here, let me," the woman said, taking Jake's hard little rod in her hands.
"Zip yourself up!" Coach ordered harshly. "Christ, you've got a willing woman, yet you want to jack it off! Better give up that stuff!"
"I'll let you do it for me!"
"Jake, you ought to get married!"
"Marriage didn't break you of the habit!" Jake teased.
"Fuck it to me, Jake," the woman begged.
Jake ignored her.
Coach said, "When I mentioned marriage, I wasn't kidding. Just be sure you find the right girl-" "Ain't you gonna fuck me?" the woman asked Jake.
"I'm not ready to settle down," Jake told Coach. "Anyway, women get pregnant, and that's messy!"
"Cut it out, Jake! Let's slip down to City Hall and see if they've brought in any of those kids yet."
Jake continued playing with himself. The woman tried to help him, squeezing her fingers around his hard cock.
Spud didn't believe Coach had indulged in any sex that evening, and he was glad. He stared miserably at him, then hacked in his throat to get Coach's attention.
The two men, and the woman, turned, looking frightened and shocked.
"Coach," Spud managed, his voice only a hoarse whisper, "It's your wife. She's having the baby -" Coach's face went suddenly white. He started making odd noises that sounded a lot like sobbing, then asked where she was.
"At the hospital," Spud said.
"I'm a gutless wonder," Coach got out brokenly.
Jake had stopped his jacking off and now he offered Coach his car.
The woman whined, "Ain't one of you fellows gonna fuck me?"
"Not tonight," Coach said.
He and Spud drove by the house to pick up Frani, and on the way, Spud told him the details.
Frani looked sick with fright and worry, and there were dark circles under her eyes. On the way to the hospital, she turned to Spud and asked, "Did you hear all of those sirens right after you left me, Spud?"
Spud said he had and he guessed there'd been a fire.
Coach cried out, "Oh, God, no! And I left Donna's house just in time!"
The east was rosy with the promise of dawn as they reached the hospital. Together, each with his own silent thoughts, they went up the steps and through the entrance which led to the information desk.
At the desk, a white-clad nurse told them the baby had been born.
"May I see my wife, please?" Coach asked.
"She's sleeping now," the nurse told him. "But if you'll follow me to the big glass window, I'll introduce you to your son!"
Coach beckoned Frani and Spud to follow.
Awed by the quietness in the huge building, Spud tiptoed behind Coach and Frani, down the carpeted hall.
The nurse had slipped a mask over her nose and mouth. She went behind the glass enclosure, and when she lifted a tiny bundle from its crib, Coach was the proudest man in the world. His chest swelled until Spud thought the buttons would burst off his shirt.
He tapped his fingers on the glass and cooed at the baby. But the baby just slept there in the nurse's arms.
"Gosh, he sure is pint-sized!" Coach exclaimed.
"I guess hell grow," Spud said. To him, the little wrinkled, red-faced piece of humanity looked just like any other newborn baby, nothing to make a fuss over.
Coach kept trying to get the baby's attention through the glass. But it yawned and never opened its eyes.
The nurse laid it back in its crib.
Spud and Frani remained there at the hospital with Coach. A long time later, another nurse came to them in the waiting room and said Mrs. Nichols was awake.
"You may see her alone, briefly," the nurse told Coach.
Coach's face was pain-wracked now. Spud could tell he'd suffered over his wife. He remembered what Hazel had said - about his wife's pregnancy being too much for a hot-blooded man like Coach. And she'd been right. Spud was sure now there wasn't a thing wrong with Coach his wife couldn't cure, and he was glad.
For the first time in several weeks, a good, wholesome feeling took over in him.
He was glad for the chance to be alone with Frani. He took her arm and led her through a door, to the balcony. She looked up at him out of dark, mysterious eyes, and her lips were red and damp. A groan of desire escaped Spud's lips as he clutched her to him.
He controlled the rising passion in him, brought on by Frani's nearness, and begged, "Marry me, Frani! Right now! Right this day!"
Gently, she pushed him back.
"Not now, Spud. We're not ready for marriage. Maybe some day -" "I've quit school, Frani! I'll get a job -" "Spud, listen! What happened last night proves we're not ready for adult responsibilities. But, Spud, dear, soon we will be."
Her words sounded like a promise to Spud.
And, as if to seal it, she put her lips close to Spud's ear and whispered, "In a year or two, Spud. We can wait, can't we?"
For an instant, Spud thought he couldn't. Then he knew he could. He could wait a long time for Frani. . .
The moment was sacred, and it lifted Spud to the heights of heaven.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Spud left the hospital at mid-morning and started home.
Sobered by his experiences, he had many things on his mind. He almost chewed his tongue off thinking of Donna Overstreet. Spud didn't think Donna looked like a whore, the way people usually pictured one, with clown-red cheeks, hard eyes, heavy make-up, tight, flashy clothes. And, of course, a body that wouldn't quit.
His thoughts went to Jake Sears, and he felt a twinge of disgust. Jake's masculinity was a most vulnerable quality. "There's as much cunt in him as cock," Spud said to himself.
Oh, well, if Jake wanted to stay an adolescent all his life, it was none of Spud's business! He shrugged, feeling there was no hope for Jake.
He walked on several blocks. After a while, Frani came into his thoughts. Frani! Brave, honest, genuine - a real person! Just thinking of her calmed Spud down and made him feel that the whole world was right again. He visualized her smile and knew what real love was like.
It was like Frani.
And, God, he wished he was good enough for her!
A girl like Frani deserved the best.
Spud knew he had a long way to go to measure up with the best of men.
But a guy could try, couldn't he?
When Spud reached home, he found his mom wringing her hands in her apron and looking like she was going to faint.
"What's wrong, mom?" he asked. "Just listen!" Spud listened.
Something terrible was going on over at the Rankin house!
"They've been fighting for an hour!" his mom said.
Spud's mind had been on all his problems, and he hadn't heard the yelling and cursing as he'd come up the street. But now, he knew that Hazel and old Rankin were at each other's throats. You could have heard their hot words for a block, Spud guessed.
His mom began gasping for breath, and her face turned pasty white. Spud helped her to a chair.
In a small, weak voice, lonely and forlorn, Spud's mom said, "I don't know what's going to happen, and I'm scared stiff. I think Mr. Rankin's got a gun. Someone ought to go over there and see what's going on!"
That someone meant Spud. His head began to throb as fright flowed into him. He felt defenseless.
His mom continued to sob out the whole story. "Mrs. Rankin got arrested last night, along with those crazy teenagers! Mr. Rankin went her bond this morning, got her out of jail."
Spud did a strange thing then.
He laughed.
He didn't know why he laughed, and there was no humor in it. His fright thickened. Then a weariness overpowered him, more hurting than his fright.
He couldn't move as he recalled hearing those sirens last night. Now, he knew Donna's house had been raided. He listened in a sort of stupor as his mom filled in some of the details.
Miss Parks, it seemed, had gone to Editor Millhouse, after the local police had refused to investigate Donna's club. Together, they'd gone to the county officials.
They had surrounded the house and watched. But they had no warrant, no legal right to enter.
Then a fight had started inside the house.
"It was between two men, over Hazel Rankin. That's when the sheriff and his deputies broke in."
The noise over at the Rankin house was getting louder . . .
"Gilbert," Spud's mom begged, "Please go over there and see what's happening. I'm scared."
Just then, old Rankin screamed, "I'm going to shoot you!"
Spud ran out the back door, and through the hedge. He entered the Rankin house through the kitchen, without knocking.
Hell, who would have answered his knock, anyway?
He found old Rankin and Hazel in the living room, going at it with all they had, which was wild tiger fury. Rankin brandished a revolver. He kept telling Hazel, "I'm going to shoot you!"
But he didn't pull the trigger.
Spud figured he didn't have the guts to do it.
He wasn't too sure, however. You never knew what a madman would do, and old Rankin was insane! Spud knew he should get the revolver out of his hands.
He made a lunge for old Rankin.
The gun went off, and Hazel crumpled to the floor.
When Spud saw her sprawled there on the turquoise rug, lying in her own blood, he couldn't move.
Rankin did a strange thing then. With the revolver still smoking in his hand, he got down on his knees and bent over Hazel. He kissed her.
Hazel lay there with her hair fanned out around her head, her eyes closed. Spud thought she was dead.
Suddenly, he sprang into action and knocked the revolver from old Rankin's hand. It hit the wall in one corner of the room, bounced back, and lay there. Spud bent his ear to Hazel's chest. She was still breathing. He thought maybe old Rankin hadn't really wanted to kill her. He ought to call a doctor.
Soon, Hazel's eyes opened, and she moaned. She was in pain, Spud knew, but he figured she wasn't hurt very badly.
He tried to get to the telephone, but a weakness surged through him and his knees buckled. He knew he should get a doctor and report the shooting. He would rest a moment, then try to make it to the telephone again.
Rankin had fallen limply into a chair. He sat there, looking as if he didn't care about anything, anymore.
Spud managed to call a doctor.
Then he dialed the police. It wasn't any time at all until an ambulance screamed up to the driveway. It was followed by a squad car with two policemen in it.
Spud watched the two ambulance men load Hazel in the ambulance. He answered the policemen's questions.
Then he went home.
Spud had started for the stairs, when his pop burst through the front door. He was throwing his arms around wildly and acting pretty excited.
"Didn't I tell you? Didn't I warn you that Hazel Rankin is no good?" He was shaking his finger at Spud, acting pleased for being right, acting smug.
Then he demanded, "Why ain't you locked up with the rest of them teenage hoodlums?"
Spud wasn't going to answer his old man.
But the look on his pop's face made him confess, "Because I was with Frani Cravens, over at Coach's house!"
His pop respected Frani, and for a minute, he acted human. Then the Coach bit must have got to him, making his anger rise.
He cursed Coach a while, and when he got through, Spud said that Mrs. Nichols had had her baby.
His mom pressed him for some of the details, so he told her.
"Oh, dear God!" she cried, twisting her hands in her apron.
Recalling the whole experience, Spud felt humbled. He wanted to explain to his mom how terrible it was and how it had affected him. He felt changed deep down inside, but he didn't know how to explain it.
Looking weepily at her husband, Spud's mom said, "I'm glad Gilbert didn't do nothing wrong this time."
Spud's pop, however, wouldn't give him any credit for anything. "Them kids, along with some grown-ups, are in real trouble!" The smug look on his face said he was pleased. "They're going to be questioned this afternoon!"
The blood rushed to Spud's face. He went hot and cold all over. His one thought was that others could get involved - Jake - Coach! "Even me!" he said to himself, trembling.
If anybody questioned Frani, Coach's reputation would probably depend on what she'd say. Spud wasn't as much concerned over Coach as he was about his poor wife. He figured she'd taken enough punishment, and he would spare her taking any more if it was in his power.
He wanted to see Frani, talk to her!
His pop had turned to his mom, still raving. Spud watched his chance and slipped out the back door. He hurried back to Coach's house.
Frani was in the kitchen, washing dishes.
"Spud!" she cried.
Not caring that she had sudsy water up to her elbows, he grabbed her and kissed her, getting the foamy stuff all over his shirt.
Frani said, "Spud, I want to ask a favor."
"Anything you want, Frani. Just name it!"
"Take me down to the hearing this afternoon, will you?"
Spud hesitated.
"Please, Spud."
At last, he said he would.
The inquiry was being held in the same big room where Spud had been questioned for speeding. The place was jammed.
Frani and Spud arrived just as Donna and her club members were being led in. Gawking spectators watched goggle-eyed as boys and girls, men and women, took their places on the front benches reserved for them. Many of them were red-eyed from weeping.
One of the teenage boys immediately began boasting that his old man had enough political power around town to get him out of the jam he was in. He was defiant toward the white-haired judge behind the desk, who only shrugged, then eyed him like he thought he was insane.
Donna tried to act defiant at first, too. But Spud could tell she was just plain scared.
Spud was pretty scared, too, when the questioning began in earnest. The white-haired judge, a stranger to Spud, looked kind and sympathetic. But he was also firm. When he started talking, at first, to no one in particular, but to everyone, Spud leaned forward.
What the man was saying made sense.
"Many of our teenagers demand adult rights, but, at the same time, refuse adult responsibilities -" He was interrupted when two cops brought Hazel Rankin in, bandaged and weeping. Rankin followed down the aisle, looking a hundred years old.
Spud had to force himself to look at Hazel. She wore a black dress that made her face look even whiter than it was.
The judge went on talking to the entire assembly. Then he got down to the individuals. He called on several of the teenagers briefly.
Then it was Donna's turn.
"Remember," he said to her, kindly, "this is just a preliminary hearing. Nobody is on trial. Now, Miss Overstreet, may we hear your testimony?"
Donna rose unsteadily and moved a few steps closer to the judge. She had her back turned to the group, but her shoulders drooped, and Spud had never seen anyone as shook up as she was.
"Just tell us what went on at your house last night," the judge encouraged.
"Sir, I - I can't," Donna faltered, her voice so low she could hardly be heard. She started crying. "I - I don't have any statement." The judge looked sad. He gave her a kind and reassuring look, and his eyes showed he was sympathetic. "Don't be afraid, my child. Just tell us what happened in your own words."
For a moment, it seemed that Donna was gaining courage. Suddenly, she became hysterical and cried out, "I can't! I can't! I don't know any nice words to describe all the ugly things we did!"
"Try," the judge insisted firmly.
In that same weak, scared voice, Donna managed to relate some facts about her home life, and some of her most intimate feelings. "I'm not blaming my mom. It was my fault. But I was always lonely, and I've done things with boys just to feel close to somebody - even for a minute."
At that point, Donna broke down. Anyone should have understood how lonely and mixed-up she was.
"I know I've done wrong," she managed to sob out.
The judge excused her, and she went back and sat down.
Hazel was called up next. The very sight of her frightened Spud. He wanted to grab Frani and beat it out of there. There was no telling what Hazel was going to confess!
Hazel had dressed for the occasion in a simple black dress. She didn't look sexy. Her blonde hair was done up severely in a bun at the back of her neck. Through the cigarette smoke which hovered over the big room, she looked innocent and demure.
"She knows what she's doing!" Spud whispered to Frani. "I bet she's been in a jam like this before!"
She hadn't fooled Spud. And it soon became evident that she hadn't fooled the old judge, either.
While Hazel was being questioned, Spud looked around the room. He located Coach and Jake Sears sitting together near the back of the room. He thought he read sorrow and regret on Coach's face, then wondered if it was just because he wanted it that way. Jake's face, on the other hand, showed no emotion. Spud wondered why he'd ever thought Jake Sears was handsome.
He hadn't realized that the judge had finished with Hazel, that somebody else was standing before him.
Then he heard the judge ask, "You're a neighbor of the Rankins?"
Spud looked. He hadn't known his pop was in the courtroom until that instant.
"Yes, Sir!" his pop said.
"Please give us your observations."
"Well, Mrs. Rankin didn't exactly street-walk, I don't reckon," he began.
Laughter exploded over the room.
The judge rapped to restore order.
"Go on."
"But she sure had a lot of men callers - that is, when her husband was away."
"Can you be more definite? Can you give us some names?"
Spud went weak. He braced himself for his execution, sure his pop would involve him.
"I never made her callers my business. I couldn't say!"
Spud began breathing normally again.
Once more, Donna, a picture of utter dejection, was called up. This time, she lifted her shoulders and looked the judge straight in the face. She didn't whine or beg for mercy, or try to place the blame on somebody else, like Hazel Rankin had. She just told it all as it was, straight from the shoulder.
Spud got the shock of his life when Miss Parks jumped up in Donna's defense. Staring at the judge through her funny glasses, she asked permission to say a few words.
"Permission granted."
Spud could tell that the judge respected Miss Parks.
You could have knocked Spud over with a feather when she declared that Donna was truthful and sweet. She placed the blame for Donna's actions on her mother, on the school, on the entire town. Then she pleaded with the judge, saying she was sure Donna would profit by her mistakes, if given the chance.
And did she impress everybody!
Spud just couldn't believe what followed, when the judge asked, "Provided I can make proper arrangements, would you consent to having this girl put in your custody?"
"Indeed, I would!" Miss Parks said.
A sort of subdued noise went over the courtroom. It sounded like cheering.
Spud stole a glance to see how Donna was taking all this. She was so miserable that Spud figured she didn't care what was happening. Then, all at once, her whole face lit up, and her gaze searched out Miss Parks. Her eyes gave thanks more clearly than words could have.
Miss Parks still had the floor. And, being Miss Parks, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to say something more. "I've been pressured to follow loose school policies, to go against my honest convictions, everything-" she went on.
Now, she glanced at old Rankin, hunkered in his seat. With a weak note of apology, she continued, "A school unit isn't any stronger than its principal, no matter how hard the teachers fry. Oh, I know Mr. Rankin has had many things to contend with, and everybody to please. But you can't head a school by ignoring its problems, or refusing to admit they exist! I believe that much of this nasty scandal had its beginning right in high school!"
Finally, Miss Parks finished. Spud felt she hadn't left a stone unturned, as the saying went. When the meeting was dismissed, he tugged on Frani's arm.
"Frani," he said, "I'd just like to let Miss Parks know I'm on her side!"
"Me, too," Frani answered.
Holding hands, they pushed up the crowded aisle to find Miss Parks.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nobody in Donna's 'F' Club got off easy. The whole community had been too aroused for that.
Those adults caught in the raid drew prison sentences. Most of the teenagers had their sentences suspended, with the stipulation that they would report weekly to a psychiatric clinic for as long as the judge thought feasible.
Old Rankin was a pitiful sight after the trial. When he learned that Hazel would go to prison, he stood condemned and accused, too, before everybody. He wrote out his resignation and left town.
As usually happens, a few guilty ones - like coach and Jake Sears - and yes, even himself, Spud had to admit - were lucky and didn't get involved in the trial. But Spud carried his guilt around with him for a long time afterward.
Spud saw Coach from time to time, and they discussed the whole thing together. Spud felt that Coach was once more on the right track, and he was glad. Since his wife was safely over her pregnancy, Coach wouldn't be anybody to worry about.
But Jake Sears was another matter.
Spud met him one afternoon several weeks after the trial. He'd been scared silly for a time, but now, he was right back to his old tricks.
He asked Spud to come up to his apartment.
Spud wanted to find out from Jake what he could about Hazel, so he went.
Jake seemed to feel sorry for Hazel, and Spud began giving him the benefit of any doubts.
Then a man and two women arrived. They seemed to be Jake's friends.
Right away, the man asked Spud if he wanted to get turned on.
Spud wasn't quite sure what he meant.
He supposed the guy wanted to blow him, until Jake said something about smoking marijuana. "We all do it here," he said.
"Marijuana?" Spud croaked. "Not me!"
"It's not habit-forming," one of the girls said, putting her lips close to Spud's cheek. "It makes you lose your inhibitions, makes fucking better. Try it, kid."
Spud shoved her away and stared at Jake. "You use the shit?" he asked. He couldn't believe it.
One of the girls said, "I'm about ready for a refill!"
Spud thought she already acted pretty loaded. Curious now, he stayed to see what would happen next.
A lot did. First, the girls stripped the two men and wanted to help Spud out of his clothes, too. He wouldn't let them. Then the men stripped the girls. Both girls were pretty high, and Spud didn't know if it was from liquor, or the pot. Spud kept moving away, telling himself it was time to get out.
But he didn't.
He stayed and watched the party.
The naked man left the girls and went to Jake. Grabbing Jake's cock, he hissed, "Lemme suck it off!"
Jake didn't answer, but he pushed his prong at the man. The man fell to his knees and took Jake's dick in his mouth, running his tongue over the end of it, then gobbling it down.
Spud began to feel kind of sick. His stomach churned, and he headed for the bathroom. One of the girls was there, jabbing a needle into her arm. Spud felt as if his own flesh had taken the thrust of the needle, as if its poison had invaded his own bloodstream.
He had to get out of there. This was something that should be reported! He'd get out of there and go find Coach! Maybe Coach would know what to do about it.
He started to the door, but then he heard someone scream in the bedroom.
He ran to the bedroom.
Jake was there - with the man and the other girl. The man was holding the girl's head while Jake stood in front of her, trying to make her take his stiff cock in her mouth.
When she wouldn't, the man flopped her over, crawled on her quickly, and fucked her hotly, violently. He pumped his cock in to the hilt, jabbing her fast and rubbing her clit, making her squirm. Jake got behind and climbed the man and started to fuck him, and the three of them panted and moaned in sheer delight. Spud knew when the men's driving cocks spouted almost at the same time. They clung together, naked, and slow-fucked, shuddering in sweet anguish.
When the man pulled his cock out of the woman, it was still hard.
"Hey," Jake said, "let me!"
"All right," the guy said. "I've got a lot of fuck stored up in me."
Jake went down, covering the cock with his mouth. He sucked it hotly, playing with the man's balls.
Spud had seen all he cared to see. He found the door, got out of there, and headed for Coach's house.
On the way over, he tried to analyze Jake Sears. What kind of a freak was he, anyway? Spud wondered if there was a woman on earth who could give Jake all the kicks he sought.
Like Coach had said, maybe Jake ought to get married. Jake could carry off the physical side of a marriage, but maybe he would never change underneath. Maybe he would always need a man's hot cock, or ass too, to satisfy his tormenting sex drive.
Spud's thoughts of sex made him hot, and he thought about Hazel Rankin. He thought about her juicy, demanding cunt, that had brought him so much pleasure. Despite his couple of early experiences, Hazel had been the one who had really taught him about sex and its hot pleasures, and for that his healthy-sized cock would always be grateful. He felt sorry for what had happened to Hazel, and even the thought of her made his cock throb, but, in another way, he was glad that she was no longer available to him.
Yes, Hazel had been like the spider in the old nursery rhyme. She had tempted him into her parlor with the promise of many things, and she had delivered! But, like the spider had done to the fly, she had entangled him in her web, and he knew now she'd been pure poison. She - and all her kind.
He'd been lucky. He'd been luckier than the poor fly, but only by the grace of God!
Frani was at Coach's house. Mrs. Nichols had returned home, but she remained in bed and Frani waited on her. Mrs. Nichols was asleep.
Frani was alone in the living room reading a book.
"You know something," Spud started out. "I bet I can kiss you without touching your lips!"
"On the mouth?"
"Yeah, on the mouth!"
"Spud, that's impossible!" Frani said.
"No, I bet a quarter I can!"
He laid down a quarter and kissed Frani before she could protest. The kiss stirred him, but he controlled himself. Laughing, he said, "I lost!"
He asked for Coach, and when Frani said she didn't know where he was, Spud felt stirrings of fear. But that was silly, he assured himself. He knew Coach wasn't out chasing women - or even with Jake. All that was over.
Coach had been cured of a lot of bad habits.
Spud stayed. Partly, he wanted to be near Frani, and partly, he wanted to wait for Coach.
They talked about the new principal at Valley High, an older man, and a widower, too, like Rankin had once been, before he married Hazel. But he was an entirely different type of man from Rankin.
"You know," Frani said, "I think he has a crush on Miss Parks!"
"Fine!" Spud answered. "Miss Parks is all right, and I'm rooting hard for a little romance in her life."
"She's pretty great," Frani added. "And you don't have to take my word for it. Just ask Donna Overstreet!"
Spud felt that his whole life had changed. He knew, however, that there would be times when he craved pure, raw sex. He discussed that with Frani.
"You think a girl doesn't feel the same way, too?" she asked. "But sex isn't everything - and it isn't a sign of a person's maturity by any means!"
Spud agreed.
Without anybody's urging, Spud went back to school. He wanted a better understanding of himself. And school was offering him that opportunity now. Coach had persuaded a medical doctor to come in and talk to his classes. And a lot of people were so grateful to Miss Parks, that she got about anything she asked for to improve the school. She brought in a full-time counsellor and psychologist.
One evening, Frani borrowed her father's car and drove by to pick up Spud. They drove out to the river and lay down in the cool, green grass on its bank.
Frani stretched out, facing Spud, and for a long time they just looked at each other. Spud felt his cock rise, but he cooled it. Looking at Frani, he decided that anyone as nice as she was, would be worth waiting for.
"Frani," Spud said, "I think I've learned what real love is - it's the way I feel about you. I want to marry you, Frani, whenever you're ready."
"I love you too, Spud. But then, I always have!" "The other part - the sex part - I still want you, Frani, my whole body does. But I'll wait for that too, until you're ready."
After a moment of quiet, Frani said, "There's no need to wait - now that I know how you really feel."
Spud looked at her searchingly. "Frani -?"
"Undress me, Spud, and undress yourself . . ."
When they were naked, his hands moved lovingly over her body, and hers over his. He kissed her deeply, and pressed his bare body against her, with an urgency born of love as well as desire. He felt her desire, and he gently got on top of her, spreading her legs with his own body. His cock was throbbing, but he didn't hurry it. He continued his kisses, building up her want of him even more, and when he felt she was ready, he slowly pressed his cock into her cunt.
It was tight, but her juices soon lubricated his cock, so that it went more easily. He pressed more urgently then, but still gently, until he felt himself pass the natural barrier inside her. He waited a few moments to let her get used to it, and then her own instinctive movements showed him that she wanted him to go on. He started fucking her more passionately, and she responded with an ardor that surprised and excited him.
He felt her body shudder with orgasm, and he was happy for the pleasure he was giving her. Even in his excitement, he realized fleetingly that this was the first time that he was thinking about the pleasure of his partner, rather than his own.
"Oh, Spud," Frani whispered softly, "I'm sorry we waited."
"No, Frani, I'm glad we did! It's never been as wonderful as now, with you!"
And his words were proven by the wild surge he felt, building up in his balls, rushing through the hard length of his cock, into her no-longer-virgin cunt.
They lay quietly for a few minutes, just caressing each other's body, and then they fucked again, as lovingly as the first time.
Then they lay together, naked under the starlit sky, in a world that seemed made only for them.
Later, they dressed, and talked about how it had been.
Spud said, "I don't have to tell you, Frani, I've fucked around with a few girls before, but it's so different, so wonderfully, excitingly different, when you do it with someone whom you really love." He paused. "You know, Frani, I'm going to make something out of myself - for you!"
"Not for me," Frani corrected. "For yourself!"
"Anything - if I can share the rest of my life with you."
They kissed, and the whole world was theirs.
They got up and drove home.
As they passed the Rankin house, somebody was moving in. To Spud, the Rankins seemed like people from another century. He told Frani, "I hope we get nice neighbors this time - different from the Rankins."
Frani said it was best to forget the Rankins.
"One shouldn't live his yesterdays," Spud agreed. "He should look forward to his tomorrows."
And he caught himself doing just that. His tomorrows would mean having Frani for his own. They would get married, and there would be children - beautiful children. Children resulted from sexual love and were its meaningful end.
He would remember that. And there would be beautiful children - love children.
