This is the story of a middle-aged woman who suddenly began to realize that life was passing her by, and bringing her very little satisfaction as it went. What Susan did about her problem is not as unusual as it might seem. We are living in an age of rapid social change, in which the old certainties have yet to be replaced by new mores and morals. Social observer Walter Meade tells us in a recent magazine article that "Libertarian sexuality comes and goes in human history, usually surfacing during times of great social change-as in France after the Napoleonic wars."
He goes on to explain that for many, the freer sexuality by itself is not enough. Marriages still exist, and still make many people happy. Our heroine here makes the same discovery about herself after trying some rather bizarre ways of satisfying her need for love and physical gratification.
The writer makes the point that for those of us who were brought up in a restricted moral code, the most difficult thing of all is communication. In the story, both Susan and her long-time escort Harold yearn for love and for an exciting sex life. The times have influenced them to the extent that they believe this is possible, but they personally do not know how to go about it. Susan has read about such formerly banned subjects as orgasm, incest, and various sexual techniques. Everything is explained to her by women's magazines, newspapers, even television. Additionally she is a librarian, with access to more information than most of us. Yet all the input slams head on into the wall of her rigid beliefs-beliefs she absorbed almost without words from her parents and others in her community.
It takes real courage to break free from this mold and to experiment for oneself. While her path is not necessarily recommended for all, it worked for Susan.
There is more truth than comedy in the many fumbling attempts she and Harold make before they can face the truth together. His private solutions are more orthodox, involving a visit to a prostitute "and masturbation. Nothing is really satisfying to him. Susan believes she's found the answer; although she knows the danger involved in sexual contact with young boys, she cannot resist. One suspects that her courage comes from the very fact that they are young, and so are not apt to be demanding or ungrateful.
Fortunately for the pair, they find each other and themselves before the conclusion of the novel. But their experiences have changed them. Sexual liberality is a part of their lives and probably always will be.
Many will disagree, perhaps violently, with the solutions that bring happiness to this couple. Obviously it is not for everyone, although an increasing number of individuals believe along with Susan that love is where and how you find it.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Harold kissed Susan on the lips. It was a chaste friendly hiss, his hands on her shoulders and inches of air between their bodies. All the same, he felt his cock stiffen. He stepped back hastily, glad for the dimness of the porch light. He looked at her searchingly, but her face wore its usual look of bland coolness. If she'd ever had a strong emotion in her life, he'd be very surprised. Of course, until recently that had been perfectly all right with Harold. He'd never analyzed the reasons they'd been keeping company for so long, but he knew dimly it had to do with her placid, unexciting personality.
He was embarrassed about his unexpected hard-on and the rush of sensual emotion that accompanied it, but he felt sure Susan wouldn't recognize an erect penis if it were waving in her face.
Harold wouldn't have believed Susan if she'd told him where her thoughts were at that very moment.
"I'd better go in now, Harold," she said, outwardly composed. "You know Mike is here." At his blank look, she added, "You don't listen to me, do you? My sister's boy, Mike? He's here for a visit. Thanks so much for the concert, I really enjoyed it."
But it wasn't Mike who occupied her thoughts. No; the boy was old enough to take care of himself, and besides, her mind was on a totally different young man, a nameless, almost faceless fellow whose hard young body had her in a hot turmoil. She would have died before she let Harold-or anyone else-know about her secret vice. But the thought of the book tucked carefully under her mattress had made the evening seem endless.
She hoped Harold hadn't noticed the way she squirmed in her seat, her mind far away from the music. She'd tried to concentrate but from time to time during the evening, she remembered the book. And when she did', thick juices flooded the crotch of her panties and threatened to soak right into her good print dress. This was the first time she'd ever let herself go as far as to bring one of the books home, and she was in a fever of impatience to get back to it.
Susan was a librarian, a widow, a woman who'd long ago sublimated whatever sex drive she had. Her husband had been dead so long he wasn't even a memory. Sex had been the last thing in the world she'd worried about during the seven years she'd been going with Harold. They'd talked about marrying "some day," but there never seemed a reason to make it happen. In fact, she'd put him off from time to time, when he seemed about to urge her to set a date. She liked her life as it was, and was in no hurry to get into "all that," as she thought of the bed part of marriage.
She didn't know what had happened to her recently.
In her many years as librarian, she'd always known about the locked case in the back of the stacks. Just hearing it mentioned would bring a blush to her middle-aged yet girlish face. Every library had a collection of erotic literature, large or small, she supposed. Every few years some scholarly researcher would go through the necessary ritual of forms in order to look at one or another of the volumes. In between, the books gathered dust.
It was one of those scholars who had gotten her started, though unwittingly on his part, in her secret vice. A vague, absent-minded professor, he'd left one of the books lying on her desk when he locked up the rest. Susan picked it up and it fell open at a picture that was still engraved on her memory. The boy in the picture, looking to be in his middle teens, was avidly making love to a luscious young girl. Susan couldn't exactly recall what the girl looked like, but the boy's fresh youth was vividly in her mind. His broad smooth-skinned shoulders, the lovely line of his long back, his smoothly muscled arms! And when she turned the page with trembling fingers, she saw the photographer had caught the couple from a different angle. The girl knelt in front of him, her outstretched hands clasping his thick smooth cock.
Below his taut stomach, his balls dangled in clear visibility. When she could tear her eyes away from his lightly -haired crotch, she also admired the smooth sweep of his chest and the small buttons of his nipples.
The chance discovery of this book changed Susan's life.
Feeling like a criminal, she used to sneak back to the locked case and take out one book at a time. Only a few were illustrated, and the others didn't interest her much. The ones with drawings or photographs gradually absorbed so much of her attention, it was a wonder she could still fulfill her duties.
Of course, she lived in dread of being caught peeping, and the hurried glimpses were never enough. Some evenings she stayed half an hour after closing, as late as she dared, in order to study the pictures at her leisure.
With her nephew Mike coming for a long visit, she was afraid she wouldn't have time for those extra half-hours, and that's why she took for the first time a bold step. She brought one of the forbidden books home with her, carefully wrapped in a newspaper and shoved down into her knitting bag. And then she'd put it between her mattress and box springs, wishing this wasn't the evening she always spent with Harold.
"Hi, Aunt Susan!" Her nephew Mike looked up from, his television program. "Have a good time?"
"Oh yes, but I hope you weren't lonely."
"No, of course not."
Susan methodically put out the lights and locked up the house, trying to ignore the heat raging in her loins. Her skin was so sensitive, even the light material of her dress seemed to inflame her senses and send lust roaring through her. She'd never felt like this in her life, even as a young girl, and she didn't know how to handle the surge of sexuality.
All she could think about was getting through her routine, past her routine, when she could spend time looking at the pictures in the book. He was so beautiful, that boy! She didn't think of him as a real person, yet at the same time she knew she loved him.
Mike didn't see anything different about his aunt. To him, she was a kindly but boring lady who fed him well and let him go his own way. He was used to being dumped on her when his mother got bored with being domestic. He didn't have to look at her to know she had a dumpy figure, with widened hips, bulging fat breasts and stomach. To him, forty-three was old.
Eventually Susan reached the sanctuary of her bedroom. The pleasures of the erotic pictures had inspired her, a few days earlier, to buy herself a peach-colored negligee, very thin and transparent. Now she stripped off her clothes, looking with dislike at the red marks left on her flesh by her girdle, and put on the robe. With only a dim light burning, she stretched out on her bed, book in hand.
She opened it to her favorite photograph, the one in which the graceful young girl knelt worshipfully before the boy. And immediately her juices began to flow again. Saliva filled her mouth and hot rich moisture oozed from her inflamed cunt. She ran her hands over her plump body, feeling the fine material mould itself to her bulbous breasts and plump thighs. When she closed her eyes, she could imagine guiltily that it was the handsome boy who was touching her.
"This is so wicked," she said aloud, knowing it didn't make the slightest difference to her. She couldn't help herself! But somehow it wasn't as terrible if she imagined that her pudgy fingers were really the hard young hands of the youth in the photographs. If only he could be there in reality, his smoothly muscled body naked beside her, his hands roving easily over her burning flesh, his demanding mouth covering her own wet firm kisses! A shudder ran through her, quaking her mounds of flesh, as she fantasized just how it would be. He would be gentle yet insistent, he would pin her to the mattress with the weight of his lithe body. His lovely long smooth cock would press its way between her thighs and then insinuate itself up into her cunt, relieving the tormenting ache and filling her completely....
Even as she thought it, her own hand pushed between the slick cushions of her labia, over her fat wet clit, up the hot slippery depth of her womb. Panting and moaning, grinding her hips down against her hand, Susan finger-fucked herself while she imagined she was being made love to by the nameless unknown young man. And because he was unknown, she could picture his personality any way she liked. He said incredibly exciting and vulgar words to her-in her mind-commanding her to fuck him harder, to spread her legs, to give it to him good.
"Yes, yes, fuck me," Susan panted. "Love your cock, love it inside me! Screw me, you bastard, screw!"
Her finger slowed to leisurely strokes, rubbing lovingly over her bulbous clit, penetrating deeper and deeper with each measured stroke. She was so deep in her fantasy, she could convince herself she felt his smooth-skinned chest pushing down on her fat tits, his hard small nipples grinding into her heaving breast. His hands would be grasping her hips, urging her on, moving them in tight circles. She speeded up the action, her finger moving hard and fast.
"Darling, darling," she moaned. "I love the way you fuck, it's so good, so great! Yes, go faster, do it harder now, that's right, that's so wonderful! Oooohhhh, it feels so goooooddd!"
The copious flow of juices from her hungry cunt amazed her, but she felt womanly as she'd never felt before. Dimly she wondered why she'd never tried this before, but she really knew the answer. Masturbating was bad and evil, in spite of the recent magazine articles she'd read. The horror of
"touching herself" had been ground-into her soul so long ago, when she was just a little girl. She'd never done it before-but then, she'd never felt like this before, either. No matter what happened, nothing could make her quit now!
Susan had never had an orgasm, either. Her short, long-ago marriage had only taught her that her mother was right; sex wasn't very nice. Her husband's quick pantings and plungings always ended so soon, just when her juices began to flow. During the only conversation she'd had about sex with her husband, he'd explained that meant she'd cum; and she could never understand why cumming left her so restless and unsatisfied. If that was all there was to it, if the appearance of the embarrassing smelly fluids were the signal of an orgasm, she could certainly understand why women hated having to put up with men's urges.
But this was different and she had no intention of stopping, it would have taken an earthquake to remove the "penis" which was her own finger from her juicy cunt. Susan had read enough in recent years, actually, to know there was more to sex than her husband once told her. But a dim confusion lingered in her mind, an uncertainty as to who was really right. All she knew for sure was that the handsome young lover she fantasized was nowhere near the end of his hard plunging action, nor washer creaming vagina satisfied. Her inner vaginal muscles clenched and unclamped rhythmically, seeming to pull her finger deeper and deeper. Her hairy muff was already matted with her cream, and still the fireball inside her showed no signs of quitting or fading.
Her cum took her by surprise.
"Ummmppfff! Owwwwww!" she grunted. The bedsprings stopped squeaking for a moment as she felt the ripples began to spread through her quivering body. It was as if a delicate barrier had broken and let loose a flood of utterly unimaginable pleasure. "OOOHHHHH" came out of her throat in an astonished gurgle. All the plump curves of her boobs and belly shook with the force of her climax.
So this was cumming! She realized for the first time that, like many women, she'd been cheated and lied to all her life. Not that she'd ever wanted it different before, not that she wouldn't have been shocked and disapproving if someone else told her about it years ago. All the same, now that she knew, she was in an ecstasy of happiness. Her body felt languorous and comfortable, no longer feverish, no longer restless. The insomnia which bothered her for years had found a cure at last.
To think I never knew this! It may be evil and sinful, but it's so wonderful, too! I wish I knew who he is, that heavenly handsome boy. I wish I could write and tell him what he's done for me!
She never gave a thought to Harold, not even to wonder if he'd ever experienced this fantastic pleasure.
Her nephew Mike, in the spare bedroom, had fallen asleep over a pile of comic books. A healthy normal twelve year old, he ordinarily wouldn't have waked until morning-except that he'd left light on. Eventually it bothered him enough that he shook his head drowsily, wishing he didn't have to get out of bed to turn it off. It was as he was stumbling across the room, reaching for the light switch, that he heard the strange noises coming from his aunt's bedroom. He flipped off the light and then stood there, leaning against the wall in the dark, wondering if he were awake or dreaming.
The unearthly moans and groans couldn't possibly be coming from Aunt Susan! It had to be the wind, or a neighbor's dog howling, or something else outside. In fact the sounds had stopped before he finally became curious enough to take a look. He saw a dim light through the half-opened door, and assumed his aunt was awake. He'd go in and ask her about the noises, he thought, just for reassurance. They certainly had been very strange.
When he pushed open the door, he didn't realize at first what he was seeing. It was the familiar sweet, expressionless face of Aunt Susan, with her graying curls for once untidy, spread out on the pillow. Her mouth hung a little open, and a gentle bubbling snore came out of the slack lips. But it was the rest of her which held the boy in fascination, unable to move forward or retreat.
The plump body was partly covered with a rosy film of chiffon, ruffled here and there-not the kind of garment he'd ever seen her wear. One round thigh and one bulging breast were totally exposed! And even where the material covered her, it was so thin he could see right through it! Even more than the bare breast with its rosy rough-skinned nipple, the dark triangle of hair veiled in peach chiffon compelled his attention.
He'd seen Aunt Susan often enough in her long nightie and quilted robe, but he realized now he'd never really seen Aunt Susan before.
The sight of a naked female was something totally new to the boy. He'd had his curiosities, but he never expected to have them satisfied in this particular way.
"Phhewww!" The boy's whistle cut sharply through the air, penetrating even Susan's satisfied sleep.
The woman blinked and slowly came awake, seeing Mike gawking at her. The boy was transfixed, almost hypnotized, and when she looked down at herself, she understood why. Her eyes travelled from his flushed face and staring eyes, to her own almost naked body exposed on the bed. She didn't understand why for a moment, but her still damp cunt, so recently satisfied, began to throb again. A new trickle of juices gathered inside her contracting cunt and oozed down her thigh.
"Why, Mike," she said, and gave a little laugh, a laugh that sounded artificial to her ears. "What are you staring at?"
The boy couldn't answer, but his face grew redder.
"Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before? Or-almost naked, I guess you'd say." Looking at him, she suddenly thought she saw a resemblance to the handsome youth in the photograph. Funny she'd never noticed it before! Of course the boy in the erotic picture was older, Mike was only twelve. She wondered if her nephew had a smooth white prick, too, as sweet and handsome as the other's.
"N-no, Aunt Susan," the boy mumbled.
"Well, it's all right, we're relatives, after all."
"You're ... not mad at me? I'm sorry, Auntie, I shouldn't have walked in without knocking. It's just I-I heard funny noises."
"No, I'm not angry. Look all you want."
A really terrible, sinful idea was forming in Susan's mind. She wondered if she dared. The resemblance between Mike and the young man in the book was so striking, now she thought of it. But did it go farther than look-alike faces? She. summoned up the image of the youthful smooth cock, and her eyes went to Mike's crotch. Could she, dared she, see it for herself?
CHAPTER TWO
"Golly, Aunt Susan!" The boy was clearly fascinated, his eyes roaming from her bulbous rosy tits to the dark triangle still veiled by the chiffon negligee. "I always wondered what ladies look like. I sure hope you're not mad at me for staring."
"Not at all, my dear," she said graciously. She was still lying sprawled against the pillows, but under his eyes she sat up. With a smile on her face, she opened the tie of her robe and dropped it off her shoulders. Folds of it still clung to her hips and thighs, and she loosened these gently until her entire naked body was exposed to his eyes.
Mike sucked in his breath sharply. Almost without volition, his legs moved him closer to the bed until he was within arm's reach of his aunt's nude body. He swallowed hard, blushed more deeply, and let his eyes have their fill.
Her breasts were big and round, sagging somewhat, with protuberant dark red tits. The brownish aureoles around them surprised him, especially in contrast with the smooth satiny whiteness of her skin. Her hips and thighs and ass were big; but he'd always known that. Seen without clothes, they had a plump attractiveness he'd never suspected. Her belly button was like a deep dimple in the creamy expanse of her stomach. But what fascinated him most of all was the dark triangle of hair at the base of her belly. The hair was curly and wiry at the same time, dark brown but glinting with light. From the rounded shape, the boy could see that her mons actually swelled out under its covering mantle of fur. His hands itched to touch that muff of hair a nd his hand moved forward. Then he realized what he was doing and jerked back, his mouth going dry. He looked at Susan's face in apprehension.
"That's all right, Mike, you can touch me. Go ahead," she invited, "it won't bite you."
He grinned nervously, hardly believing his ears. But his hands accepted the invitation even if his mind didn't. He not only touched her, he laid his hand flat against that hairy mound! It was like plugging in a light cord; an electrical connection was made that shot sparks right through him! He looked at his own square boyish paw, his fingers curled slightly toward the base of her mons, and gulped. Who would ever believe it? He thought he must be dreaming, but if so, it was the best darn dream he'd ever had!
Getting bolder, he stroked the muff, petting it as if it were a soft fuzzy kitten. And like a cat, it generated a great deal of heat. He thought of his own boyish genitals and was filled with amazement. Of course, he knew girls didn't have a cock and balls, he wasn't that dumb. But knowing it, and seeing the firm hot flesh and beginnings of the crack of her cunt, was something else.
He lost all concept of his aunt as a person and began to explore her body with a small boy's curiosity. His hands moved over her belly, feeling the cushion of fat, poking a little finger playfully into her belly button. His mouth salivated as he reached the plump breasts that sagged down over her rib cage. Some instinct deep inside him made him want to pillow his head on their warm comfort. His fingers explored the odd surface of her tits, which was rough and smooth at the same time. When he pressed down on a tit, it gave way-but the next second popped up, firmer and harder than before!
His sturdy hands stroked and probed and even pinched lightly. Susan was breathing shallowly, hardly daring to move. That soft touch spent spasms of delight through her. Now she could see that Mike really didn't look like the boy in the picture at all! He was just Mike, her dear nephew, with his suntanned face, snub nose and her own deep brown eyes. The family resemblance between them, instead of frightening her as it might have done, made her feel comfortable and easy instead.
Her cunt contracted sharply and a profuse flow of pungent juices trickled over her legs. Her heavy white thighs quivered with restrained lust, as the boy returned his attention to the fascinating area between her legs. He patted the furry mound, one finger slipping into the mysterious gulf between her thighs. She could see he was terribly curious, but afraid to explore any farther. She caught his quick imploring glance, and smiled.
"Go ahead, darling," she said softly. She moved her legs so the thighs were invitingly open. "You can touch me there; it's all right."
Susan was wondering how far she could go with her nephew. She hadn't forgotten her burning desire to see his body as he was seeing hers, but she didn't want to frighten him by acting too quickly. So she tried to restrain herself as the sturdy fingers explored her hairy crack, taking hold of the plump lips and separating them so he felt the slick moisture between.
"You're-you're all wet down there," he said incredulously. For a minute he thought something was wrong.
She laughed. "Yes, of course I am, Mike. That's a woman's cream, didn't you know that?"
The boy hung his head. "I don't know much about ladies," he whined.
"Well, you'll never have a better chance to find out! Go ahead," she said again.
Mike was glad she had because he didn't think he could pull loose if he tried! His fingers had discovered the magnetic qualities of thick hairless slippery female flesh, and were roving busily. There was a strange bump at the front of her slit, and he pinched it gently. He felt her buck a little, and looked up again in alarm. Had he hurt her? He guessed not, because Aunt Susan had her head thrown back and a smile on her face. She was licking her lips too. He knew his aunt well enough to be sure he'd hear about it if he weren't pleasing her.
"You feel so soft," he said. "Soft and wet."
"Ummmmmm. Don't stop, Mike, it feels good."
Truth to tell, Susan knew little more about her clitoris than Mike did. She'd read some articles lately in women's magazines, articles that made her blush and wonder what the world was coming to. But she'd never actually experienced this excitement and was amazed at the new feelings that surged over her. Why, this was twenty times as good as masturbating herself! She closed her eyes to capture more of the good hot feeling, then opened them wide, seeing the dear boy's dark head bent over her open crotch.
"Do it like this," she urged, putting her bigger hand over his. She guided him into a gentle stroking action which agitated her clit and the whole swollen length of her hair-lined slit.
"Is this okay, Aunt Susan?" the boy asked anxiously.
"Aaarrrggghhh! Ummmmmphhh!" the woman gurgled, her hips switching rhythmically. To her intense surprise, an orgasm burst inside her body and spread its sweet honey through her suddenly weak arms and legs. "Mikey, Mikey! That was so nice! You are quite a little man, Mike. You make your auntie very happy."
The boy was confused but delighted. He knew something had happened to her, although he wasn't sure what. He knew too that his questing hand was suddenly drenched in her thick juices, and he rubbed it against the inside of her thighs. He still worried about the propriety of seeing and touching Aunt Susan, but her obvious pleasure eased his mind.
She clamped her thighs together for a moment, capturing his hand. Then she sighed and released him. Her primary object was not forgotten, only postponed.
"It's so nice lying here without clothes, honey. Why don't you take your pajamas off too?" she said slyly.
Mike shook his head quickly. Something strange was happening to his little prick and he was embarrassed about it. Besides, the idea of being naked himself was rather frightening.
"I'm okay, Aunt Susan."
She frowned at him. "That's not very nice of you, Mike. And you're not being a good boy at all." Seeing a stubborn look come over his face, she added, "Auntie wants to do something good for you, just as you did for me. Come on now, Mike, let me show you a nice surprise."
Reluctantly the boy stood and pulled his pajama top over his head. He looked down at the drawstring of the pants and tugged it slowly. But the material still clung to his thin body and he made no move to pull it down. Susan couldn't stand it any longer. She reached out impatiently and tugged. The pants fell to the floor and the blushing boy stepped out of them.
"Oh, you look so nice!" Susan stared with pleasure at the boy's skinny body and most particularly at his groin. He had hardly any ass at all; well, she'd known that, but seeing for herself was different. His flaccid small balls hung behind his half-hard cock, and they were smooth and rounded, as if designed just to be cupped in a woman's hand. Best of all was his dick, smooth and uncircumcised, creamy-white and ending in a sort of point. The absence of hair particularly delighted her-he seemed so virginal and fine! The fact that his slim shaft was growing fatter, arching out toward her hungry hands, made her catch her breath and run her tongue over her lips. Was he like the naked youth in her forbidden book? She compared them carefully, seeing that Mike's was of course smaller, the boy being younger; but on the other hand, it was so deliciously smooth and white! Besides, it was real, Mike was flesh and blood and right here with her. She didn't need to imagine him, or fantasize the touch of him. She could fill her eyes and mind with reality instead of dreams. Not that she intended to have him replace the imaginary boy by fucking her, no indeed. That would be sinful and immoral. It was not only-what did they call it? Molesting a minor child. Besides that, Mike was her very own nephew, born out of her sister's body, the same blood and genes as Susan. If they fucked, that would be incest-an even dirtier word than molest. She felt sure there was something in the Bible about incest, though she couldn't remember what.
No, fucking the child was out.
On the other hand, touching and playing with him a little bit wouldn't hurt anybody.
And her cunt, which was unable to reason the way her head could, contracted and twitched and showed every sign of coming to life again, even though immediately after that satisfying little cum. Susan was so bewitched by the boy's hairless body, she felt she might cum again simply from looking at it.
"Come closer, Mike" she cooed, and the boy perched uneasily on the edge of the bed. Fear made his little dick wilt again and he looked down at it, not sure whether to be pleased or ashamed.
Saliva clogged Susan's throat as she reached out for the delicious organ. The touch of it burned her fingers excitingly. It was so little and sweet, so dear! Compared to a man's, she thought (though she really had little basis for comparison) it was like the difference between a baby's satiny cheek and a man's rough prickly chin. And best of all, maybe, was the fact that Mike's prick could be held in her hand, her fingers closed around it, in a possessive way. The silky thin skin slipped beneath her grasp, she could pump the skin up and down and feel the slow movement of the gradually hardening flesh underneath.
And, too, this was her first real opportunity to study a real penis. She discovered the interesting way the foreskin slid back, and used a thumb and finger to do this. The wrinkled tip was loose, and underneath it lay a scarlet bulb with its tiny opening. She was so fascinated by this, she flopped on her belly and held the hardening cock near her eyes-and consequently, of course, near her mouth.
The temptation was irresistible. Her tongue flicked out like a lizard's, touching, testing, tasting.
"Uuurrrgghhhh." The boy's gurgling moan startled her, and she looked up quickly. No need to worry. Mike's ecstatic expression told her that in doing what came naturally, she was pleasing him very, very much. So she let her dripping tongue curl around the sweet morsel, swirling it wetly.
Mike was indeed ecstatic, even though he couldn't believe what was happening. Aunt Susan's plump buttocks rode majestically in the air as she wriggled herself almost into his lap. Her warm breath tickled his balls gently, while the heat of her wet tongue seemed to light a matching fire in his loins.
Proudly he watched as his small dick stiffened and stretched, until it seemed twice its normal size. Then, as her hands pulled back the foreskin once more, and her tongue wetly bathed the small red nut of his glans, the swollen cock arched itself upward, almost touching his belly. For a minute, the boy was afraid.
"Golly, Aunt Susan! It looks so funny. It never did that before, not that big, I mean. Do you think it's all right?"
Susan didn't want to admit to her own ignorance. Cautiously she said, "How does it feel?"
"Wow, it feels like-like the best thing ever happened to me!" The inarticulate boy squirmed and grew red-faced, trying to find the right words. "It's like-like I don't ever want you to stop! Wow, it's the greatest!"
"Then it must be all right," she said with relief. She knew she wanted to put it right in her mouth, to pop it in like a stick of candy, and the very thought scared her. Sucking on his peepee, she thought childishly. But then she remembered seeing a drawing of that very thing in the book, and although at the time she'd turned the page hurriedly, the memory lingered on. And the idea of sucking his cock burned in her brain, so she was unable to think of anything else. Slowly she found her face moving forward, her mouth, which was as plump as the rest of her, dropping open a trifle, until her face was pressed against his flat belly and her lips just barely encircling the stiff rod.
"Mmmmmmmm," she sighed happily as her throat worked and the fat little worm was suctioned in. It tasted just as good as it looked! Once she was doing it, sucking on his sweet innocent cock didn't even seem perverse any more!
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Mike was titillated and alarmed at the same time. "Aunt Susan! What are you doooiinngg!" But he made no move to pull away; in fact, he felt glued to the spot. Whatever strange idea his aunt had now, it sure felt good! He hunched up his skinny ass and pushed forward, glorying in the new sensations, until a thought struck him. It was such a scary idea, his blooming cock began to wilt a little.
"You gotta quit, Aunt Susan. Pul-leasse!" he whined.
She reluctantly let the sweet bit of flesh slip out of her mouth, and raised her eyes to her nephew's tormented face.
"What's the matter?" she asked crossly. "What's wrong with you, Mike? You're being a bad boy!"
He didn't want to tell her, but he had to. He'd jerked off, just once or twice, and he knew what would happen. He was ashamed of himself, but he'd feel twice as bad if he didn't quit right now. "Ummmm," he mumbled. "Aunt Susan, it felt so good, I was gonna ... I was almost gonna cum," he confessed.
"That's fun, you'll love it," she assured him, on the basis of her two experiences in orgasm.
"Yeah, but ... I would of cum in your mouth." He was red-faced at having to say it, but knew he had to.
His amazing aunt only laughed! "That's all right, sweetie, go ahead! You can squirt your jism in my mouth, I don't care."
The boy had somehow equated cumming with urinating, so he was very surprised at her answer. But he was a brave lad, and besides his balls were feeling very full and hot, and his cock was aching to be sucked and touched by her tongue and to regain its exciting position. So he tried to relax and not worry, telling himself that there were all kinds of grown-up things he didn't know yet.
Susan immediately fell on his half-hard cock and licked it hotly into full erection. Then she slid her mouth over it again, loving the heavy feel of it on her tongue. Her throat worked convulsively until she was almost swallowing the pungent firm organ, and to Mike it felt as if she was pulling it out by the roots-but he loved it! He hunched forward as far as he could until her flushed sweaty forehead was pressed against the base of his belly.
She asked for it, he thought with little-boy defiance, knowing he couldn't hold back one instant longer. And here it cummmms! The sensation was so sweet and exciting and unique, he found his heart going like a trip-hammer while his bony hips pumped back and forward, beating his swollen balls against her face. He could actually feel the thin stream of sperm shooting into his aunt's mouth, and her hollowing cheeks told him she was swallowing as avidly and hotly as he was shooting! The boy shuddered from the top of his head to his toes, and then fell sideways on the bed.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he mumbled, one hand resting on her plump shoulder.
Susan pumped it all in, swallowing greedily until long after the boy was bone dry. The feel of the loosening cock in her mouth triggered something in the pit of her belly, and with her mouth still around the limp organ she quivered with her own cum.
"Gollyyy," Mike whispered. He felt like a piece of cooked macaroni, hanging from a fork. There was no bone left in his dick and not much in his spine, either!
A few minutes later the two lay side by side, happily exhausted. Mike dozed off to sleep in a healthy small-boy way. His aunt was equally sated in her body, but her newly aroused sensuality wouldn't let her mind rest. She knew that sooner or later she was going to have to fuck the boy. Or let him fuck her, however it happened. She knew it for a fact.
But how was she going to square it with her conscience? What would she do with that ugly word incest that burned redly in her mind?
CHAPTER THREE
When Susan opened the library the next morning, she was glad that it was Saturday. She'd have a busy day, of course, with the kids out of school. But that was good, it would keep her mind occupied. And the library closed at three, she wouldn't have to go back until Monday morning, and she'd have extra time to think about her own concerns.
Her own concerns being, of course, her nephew Mike.
When the boy showed up in front of her desk at two-thirty, she was both glad and sorry. Glad because the sight of him reminded of their exciting adventures on the previous evening. Her eyes wondered affectionately over his thin, boyish frame and lingered at his crotch, so she blushed as she thought about his boyish cock and the round balls dangling behind it. Sorry because, to her disappointment, he had one of his friends with him, a boy named Tim. She had a feeling what would come next, and she was right: the two were on their way to the movies.
Every other year, when her sister sent Mike for a vacation, she'd been glad the boy made friends so easily. Now she thought resentfully about the wasted time, time she might have spent alone with her nephew.
Of course she had to look Tim over in the light of her new knowledge. He was thirteen, a year older than Mike, and a much bigger boy. His blue jeans rode low over his hips, exposing a strip of tanned flesh below his T-shirt. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could see the bulge of his dick under the soft, much-washed fabric.
The two took off on their bikes, and after the library emptied she began to put things away and close up. Remembering the book hidden in her knitting bag, she pulled it out and slammed it pettishly down on the desk. It flew open, of course, to the photographs she'd looked at so often, and she paused a moment to study them once more. Her dream-lover was definitely older than Mike, maybe fifteen or sixteen. She hadn't known that before she had a basis of comparison.
The pictures looked as exciting to her as ever. She studied them closely, noticing details which hadn't struck her before. The youth in the picture was uncircumcised, too, but his cock was definitely longer and fatter than Mike's. A smudge of pubic hair proved his maturity. He was still devastatingly attractive to Susan, and she thought again about writing to him. If she sent a letter to the publisher, would they see it got to him? She felt such an overflowing affection for him, it seemed to her as if she should let him know about it.
On the other hand, Mike was real, and he was here.
"What's so interesting, Susan?"
She jumped. She hadn't even heard Harold walk in! Terribly embarrassed, she slammed the book shut. "Nothing, Harold, just a book I have to put back. How are you?"
Harold caught a glimpse of a naked girl, doing something interesting to a young guy. Her sweet young curves jolted him, sending a flash of lust through him. He felt his dick begin to swell and quickly shifted his position so Susan wouldn't notice. Then he did a double take. Susan? Looking at a book with erotic pictures? Impossible! She whisked the book away so quickly, shoving it into the bottom drawer of her desk, that he didn't get a good look at the cover even.
He decided that whatever was happening to him lately was more serious than he'd realized. When he started seeing sexy picture books where none existed, or could exist, he must be really going off his rocker! His half hard-on died. He decided if this kept up, he'd have to go see his doctor. Maybe he needed hormone shots or something. He hadn't been so horny since he was seventeen, and he thought it was peculiar and undignified. Just last night, he'd jacked off three times and even that left him unsatisfied, because he'd waked up in the morning with an erection so big it frightened him.
Harold ran an instant-printing shop which provided him with a small but steady income. He'd had a wife once, but she ran off with a paper salesman. The note she left him said she was starved for affection and sex, and he mournfully admitted she had a right to be. He just didn't feel he was highly sexed and in fact, the whole subject had always been rather distasteful to him. Since his divorce, he'd jacked off whenever he felt the need, which wasn't often, and about once a year, went to a prostitute. Meeting Susan had seemed like fate. She was pleasant company, but she never demanded anything of him in a sexual way. He supposed they'd get married eventually but he wasn't in any bigger hurry than she was.
It was only recently that he'd begun to feel so horny, both night and day. He caught himself trying to peek in the neighbor's bathroom while the wife was taking a bath. The thought of discovery frightened him, but didn't stop his growing avid interest in female flesh. For instance, getting a hard-on from kissing Susan! Incredible! He was terrified she might find out and, quite properly, tell him to take his hat and leave. He loved her in his own way, and he'd miss her company.
Harold decided he'd better go look up the girl he'd had paid sex with a year ago. His mind was . playing frightening tricks on him.
Nevertheless, he couldn't help but think he saw what in fact he did see, which was his middle-aged girl friend looking at a book full of pornographic pictures. In defense of his own sanity, Harold decided he had to take another look at that book. He'd caught a glimpse of its cover, and was sure he'd know it again.
While all these thoughts were flashing through his mind, he also maintained his usual proper decorum.
"I just stopped by to see if you'd like to go out to supper," he said. "Maybe we could take in the new movie at the Orpheum."
"Fine," she answered, wishing he would go away so she could put the book back in its locked case. He hadn't really seen anything, had he? "About six-thirty?"
"Yes, the usual time."
She wished he'd go away. And eventually after more small talk he did, heading, if she'd only known, for the only sex-for-pay he knew about. Harold's mind was filled with visions of tits and pussy and young nubile flesh, and he went looking for a place he could take his hard-on without offense or complications.
Susan sat back down at her desk, her fleshy ass filling the chair, her striped voile dress clinging damply to her plump thighs. She didn't have the nerve to take out the book right away, but she could see it plainly in her mind's eye. Her cunt contracted, the rich juices beginning to flow. It was such a torment! Life was simpler before she'd gotten these unreasonable, unseasonable itches! Eventually she headed back to the locked case, key in hand.
Everything might have been different if she hadn't yielded to temptation-just one more time, she told herself. The incident with Harold still disturbed her, as well as her possessive jealousy of Mike. The answer seemed to be, one more last exciting run-through of the pages which sent her into such ecstasy.
Squatting down beside the big library case, she let it fall open to the same old familiar pages. They looked different to her, once she'd had some experience of her own. Her eye was more critical but nonetheless loving as she studied the handsome young man who had broken through her almost virginal reserve. She could appreciate the size of his cock, and the way it arched upward as if feeding itself into the girl's hands. His balls, she saw, had a light furring of hair on them-a detail she'd barely noticed before.
Once again she felt herself falling under the spell of her dream lover. Letting her plump body sag onto the dusty floor, she reached up under her dress' and slip. Damn it, she was wearing a panty girdle! But she worked her pudgy fingers inside its tight nylon confines, and found her slit soaking with juices, as wet as she'd been the night before with Mike. She explored the wet puffy surfaces, her thumb sliding back and forth across her clit. Her legs sprawled wide, her whole body expressing abandonment to pleasure, she let herself fantasize.
He was there with her, in the back room of the library, his naked beautiful body a shocking contrast to its stuffiness and quiet. He couldn't wait, he told her; he had to have her that very minute, no matter where they were. His hard young strength carried her right down to the floor, his burgeoning prick insinuated itself between her legs and somehow miraculously bypassed the tight girdle. With her finger probing her wet hot depths, she imagined his rigid rod doing the same exciting exploration. Her fingertips were wet and sticky, and she found she could get most of her hand into the quaking passage. Her wide hips moved back and forward across the floor, scraping up and accumulating dust as she fucked back at her finger-lover.
"Uuuuhhhhh," she groaned, rocking on her fat buttocks, trying to squeeze every last ounce of sensation out of the moment. "Oh that feels so good, that feels so heavenly ... Aaarrrr!"
Contrary to her usual custom, Susan had forgotten to lock the big front door of the library before she went back to the stacks. It was the first time in all her years as librarian that she'd forgotten, and later she told herself that it was all the excitement of her heat which made her so careless. But for whatever reason, when Mike returned looking for his aunt, he found no trouble entering the building. Standing by Susan's desk, looking around, he suddenly heard the same strange noises he'd heard the night before, the same noises which had led him to his aunt's room and bed. As curious as any other normal young boy, he followed his ears to the back room.
The boy having almost persuaded himself that his sexual encounter of the previous night was a dream, he found himself astounded all over again at the sight of his prim aunt groveling and groaning on the hardwood floor. He had a perfect view right up her skirts, and it was obvious that she had her own fingers up her cunt. This was a new one to Mike. He stood and gawked, aware that however weird the sight, it was affecting his body in an interesting way. He grasped his hard-on through his jeans and stared.
The open book beside her on the floor meant nothing to Mike; he didn't even notice it.
"Oh, Aunt Susan!" the boy gasped.
She heard him but her mind didn't register the interruption for a few seconds, as she was in the throes of a most delightful cum. Then her eyes flew open and she saw the boy. Mike quickly knelt beside her, his eager hands reaching out to her soft inner thighs. It was like a dream to Susan, or rather a continuation of the dream she was already having. At that moment, it seemed perfectly natural to grab her nephew by his shoulders and bring his face down to hers. She kissed him with a smack, and then daringly let her mouth fall open. When he didn't take instant advantage of this, she pushed her own tongue out into the little boy's warm mouth. At the same time, his body fell full length on hers.
She felt the heavy beating of his heart as she ran her hands up and down his slim back, cupping his asscheeks and pulling him closer to her. She realized her clothes were an impediment to what her body urgently desired, and tried to pull down her girdle with one hand while she held him close with the other.
"Oh, Mikey," she panted, "are you going to fuck Susan? That's a good boy! Fuck your auntie, right now!"
Mike had stumbled into her dream and become part of it. She was lost to all reason and common sense, knowing only her cunt's urgent demands.
"Help me!" she demanded, not wanting to let go of him, but filled with the need to expose her creaming cunt.
Afterward, she was never sure how she got the girdle and her nylons off, but somehow with his clumsy help she did it. "There now, you sweet boy," she crooned, "take your pants off." Her hands tugged at his zipper and the jeans came down. His Jockey shorts were bulging with his boyish erection, and when he pulled them down too, the dear little prick arched upward almost to his stomach. Susan feasted her eyes and hands on it for long moments, but the urgency inside her drove her on.
"Put it inside me," she begged, hugging him tightly.
Mike was willing enough but he couldn't figure out exactly what to do. The way she held him, with a woman's eager strength, his face was almost buried in her tits, and his cock was endless inches away from her body. As fired up as his aunt, he tore loose and kneeled between her loosely sprawled legs. He fingered his cock for a moment, just to be sure it was really as stiff as he thought. Then he aimed it in the general direction of her hot, gaping pussy, and hunched forward. Almost miraculously, or so it seemed to him, it encountered the puffy slick lips of her cunt immediately. And then he felt as if it were drawn forward and in by a powerful vacuum cleaner, as her inner muscles contracted and swallowed up the hot rigid rod.
It felt so fantastically good, he thought he was going to pass out! The walls seemed to close around his cock lovingly, wet and warm and pulsing. It was a moment the boy never forgot: his first real encounter with sex.
"Wow, Aunt Susan," he gulped, "is this fucking?"
"Ohhh yesss," she said. "Does that feel good, Mikey? Do you like it?"
"Golly, yeah! Shit-excuse me, Aunt Susan-it's the most! He wanted to do the right thing and somehow his instincts told him what that was. Pumping his slim hips back and forward, he groaned and sighed as the wet warmth enclosed him. "Is this okay? Tell me what to do!"
"You're ... doing ... fine," the woman gasped. She was loving every minute of the hot hard connection. "Fuck me harder, Mike! Harder!"
The boy manfully stroked in and out, his hands grasping her fat tits right through her dress and slip and bra. Nobody would every believe him if he told them about this,! Last night hadn't seemed real but there was no denying the actuality of this. Fucking his own aunt right on the floor of the library!
The excitement was almost too much for him. He climaxed in a hurry and then lay on her full breast, breathing heavily. He could tell she wasn't done yet because she kept moving her hips in an agitated fashion, pumping up and down while his flaccid penis gradually slipped out of its warm nest.
"Oh Mikey, don't stop now!" But she knew he had stopped, that for the minute he was all washed up. And Susan herself was still hot and ready to go. She pulled him down beside herself and rocked back and forth, his face buried in her pudgy body. "Oh Mikey, you've got to get hard again, I can't stand this!" She squirmed around and pushed his head down between her legs. "Please, Mikey, kiss me like I kissed you! Suck me! Make me cum!"
Mike didn't think he liked that idea but he didn't know how to say no to her. Besides, once he got his head up into her crotch, the pungent odor and the heat of her cream fascinated him. He could see the shiny red of her labia, and the ragged-looking pink flesh underneath. Her legs scissored around him, holding him prisoner while he took a first lapping taste of her pussy. It was good! It made him all hot inside, just like kissing her had done! He clamped his little mouth around the bud of her clit, remembering how she'd squirmed when he touched it last night. And he knew right away that was a good thing to do, by the way she sighed and moaned.
"Put your tongue up me," she urged.
Tasting his own sperm as well as her juices, he sucked and stuck his hot stiff tongue up her cunt. Her warm thighs enveloped him. His hands were under her body, cupped around the massive asscheeks, sliding up and down in the damp crease.
Susan felt as if every nerve in her body were exposed and sensitized. As his tongue pushed its way inside the hungry cunt, she felt the first stirrings of her cum.
"More! Do it more!" she said hoarsely.
His nose deep inside her pussy, the matted wet hairs clinging to his forehead and chin, Mike sloshed his tongue around happily. This was something like it! The new experiences had come so fast, one on top of another, that he could hardly sort them out. He felt tremors in her body, spreading out from the pit of her belly. Her juices flowed thicker and heavier than ever. He vibrated his hot poker of a tongue faster and faster in her viscous flesh.
"Owwwww!" she howled. "Uummpphh!"
She began to flail her arms and legs in the air. Mike pulled his head out and watched her contorted face, her eyeballs rolling back in her head. "Eeee! Oh shit, oh God, OH OH OH YESSS!" She moaned on a lower note as the tingling ecstasy spread through her plump body.
The boy felt proud he'd given her this much pleasure, and he sat back with a satisfied grin. Then a voice spoke behind him, and Mike almost flew through the ceiling.
"What's the matter with her? Is she having a fit?"
He wheeled around, already recognizing the voice. "Tim! What are you doing here?"
His friend stood open-mouthed, his voice lowered in awe. "Jeez, Mike, what's wrong with your aunt? We'd better get a doctor. Is she gonna die?"
"Naw, she's okay. She gets that way when she cums."
For Susan the shock was greater, as her vision cleared and she saw their audience. All the dangerous implications flashed through her mind immediately. Pulling her dress down, she sat up and began smoothing her tangled hair. "Tim! What are you doing here?"
The boy began to realize what was happening, even though he couldn't quite believe it. Before Susan pulled her dress down, he'd seen those mysterious shiny-red lips under her matted pubic hair. Suddenly he realized that his buddy Mike was naked from the waist down, and with interesting stain marks on his thighs and flaccid cock.
"Jeeesss-uzz!" Tim whistled and shoved his hands in his pockets. His breath came a little quicker and his heart began to pound. "What the shit! You guys are fucking, that's what you're doing!"
Susan was terribly afraid. Her mind worked quickly on a way to gain control of the situation. This boy could ruin her! "You shouldn't come sneaking in here! Damn it, if I tell your mother ...." Her voice trailed off. She didn't dare tell anyone, and could only pray that the boys wouldn't either. Plaintively she asked: "Are you going to tell, Tim?"
"Well, gosh no! I mean-" He thought for a long minute. This was an opportunity to learn what all youngsters are curious about, the chance to actually see and handle naked female flesh-if he kept cool and said the right thing. "I won't tell," he said cheerfully, "if you cut me in. Let me have some, too, and my lips are sealed!"
It was blackmail of the worst sort, Susan knew.
But the youngster was really rather attractive. He was a year older than Mike, and definitely more mature. Would his cock be as sweet and white and irresistible as her nephew's? The temptation to find out was really being forced on her!
"We'll see about that," she said standing up. "We'll just see about that ... "
"Gosh, Tim, she sucked my cock and everything! Wait'll you try it! Golly, it's the greatest!"
Tim's eyes popped! Cocksucking, fucking and who knew what else! "The first thing we're gonna do is go lock that door!" He eyed the woman's curves avidly, licking his lips as he thought of touching all that exciting warm female flesh.
CHAPTER FOUR
Harold couldn't get that photo out of his mind. True, he'd only had a glimpse of it. But his imagination could supply all the details with no effort. He drove away uncomfortably aware of the bulging prick between his legs, pulsing hot with blood and demanding satisfaction. He had flashed almost entirely on the gorgeous young piece, so it wasn't hard to substitute his own face and body for that of the anonymous male.
He'd been dreaming about pussy for weeks, and now he was having the same dream while wide awake! The two of them, he and the girl, were wandering hand in hand across a deserted meadow.
Being naked out of doors seemed to the man the height of delicious perversion. They stopped by a bubbling mountain stream, and he turned to her, his legs spread wide in the exact position of the fellow in the picture.
The girl was looking at him with adoring glances, while his eyes feasted on her tender young curves. He could see the upward tilt of her hard little breasts, their rosy tits erect and firm. A slender waist flowed into rounded hips, with her blond bush startlingly prominent. His own cock stood high and full, its head an angry red against the blue-veined white skin.
The girl licked her lips, and suddenly fell to her knees in front of him. "Oh please, may I hold it?" she begged prettily.
"Why not?"
Then her fingers curled around the rigid pulsing rod, while her eyes caressed it. The touch of her firm little fingers sent burning heat through his middle-aged frame. That was what the girl in the photo had been doing, wasn't it? Adoring, almost worshipping the man's huge erection! And she'd love his even better. He was a full grown man, with a cock larger than average size. She'd love it, of course!
"I've just got to kiss it," the girl said, salivating so profusely that bubbles of spit formed on her rosy lips.
"Kiss it and suck it!" the new Harold commanded.
She rubbed at the foreskin with a finger, pushing it back so she could see the bulbous red tip of the glans. Her tongue flicked against the tiny eye and the cock almost jerked out of her hands as it swelled impressively.
"Ummmmm, I just love your cock," the girl whispered, rubbing her soft cheek on it. Then she took the tip into her mouth, letting the wrinkled skin slip back until her tongue found it. Her hands curled around the shaft and gently stroked up and down. Her lips ovaled around the hot hard flesh, she rolled her eyes up at him in appreciation.
He was going to cum too soon! Harold jerked the steering wheel abruptly, realizing he shouldn't be driving in this state. He spotted an alley up ahead and pulled into it, managing to park and kill the motor, unzip his pants and pull out a handkerchief, before his spurting cock made a mess out of his clothes.
"Phheewww!" Nervously he looked around, sweating and praying. It was okay. He was all alone, no witnesses to see respectable Harold jerking off in his car, in broad daylight, in the center of town.
This was getting too much for him, he realized. In other days, he'd have gone home and napped, his body and mind contented. But this wasn't other days, this was now, and neither his body or mind were cooperating in maintaining his placid life. Even if he had just cum, he'd better go find a whore. He started the engine and backed out, trying to remember the street and number, or at least the looks of the house....
Susan tested the door one more time, then led the two boys to the rear of the building. "There's a couch in the lounge, and nobody will disturb us on Saturday afternoon," she said.
Once over the initial shock, Tim was confused. He never knew grown-up ladies did things like this! He certainly didn't associate sex with his own parents, figuring they were to old for it. Wondering if this were some sort of hoax, he trailed after Mike and waited to see what the younger boy would do.
"Let's get undressed," Mike said happily. "Show Tim your titties, Aunt Susan, will you?"
She smiled at the dear little boy. "All right, honey. Let's all get undressed. I want to see Tim, too."
Mike eagerly, Tim more slowly, the two boys stripped off their jeans and shirts and shoes and underpants. Tim blushed as he looked down at his own small genitals, and covered them with his hand.
"Don't be so shy," Susan urged him. She turned so Mike could unzip the back of her dress, and then shrugged her way out of it. This was going to be so much fun! She'd completely forgotten her worries and fears about incest. Being fucked by the little boy was so heavenly, how could it be wrong? She undressed more slowly, aware of their fascinated eyes watching. When she unhooked her sturdy cotton bra and pulled it down her arms, she could see Tim's shock and it made her smile.
The boy realized she was overweight and over-age, nothing like the pretty slender chicks in the movies, or even the older girls in high school. Still he was impressed. Who knew if he'd ever get a chance at one of those gorgeous dolls? And the best part about Susan was that she was here, she was available. He'd never dreamed he'd have an opportunity to learn about sex, not for years. It seemed fair enough to him that his opening experiences would have to be with a Susan. Besides, with younger girls he'd be worried for fear he'd do something wrong or seem immature.
Susan was still carrying her girdle and nylons in her hand, so it didn't take her long to undress. She perched her full ass on the sofa and beamed a smile at the kids. "Come closer, Tim," she said.
Tim, as she discovered, had a much sturdier body than Mike's. His shoulders were broader and he didn't taper down to such slim hips as her nephew's. She liked the looks of him; maybe he wasn't quite as pretty but his heavier bones and air of fleshiness promised strength and stamina.
He had a few longish hairs curling in his groin, but not enough to conceal his sturdy white prick and dangling balls. His cock was thicker than Mike's but not a bit longer. It hung limp and flaccid in his crotch.
The boy's hot eyes had already taken in her fat sagging breasts and the plump dark triangle of her mons. Greedily he squeezed and fondled a tit, startled by the soft yet firm feel of it. He could spend about a year, he reckoned, playing with those big boobs-but not yet! First of all he wanted his basic curiosity satisfied. And while they were locking the door, going to the lounge and undressing, his busy little mind had come up with some satisfying facts. He thought of how his parents and other grown-ups would view this scene, and knew he held Susan in the palm of his hand.
"Lie down," he commanded. "I want to see your pussy."
"Hey, Tim! You don't have to talk like that." Mike didn't like the tone of his friend's voice. After all, Susan was his aunt, not Tim's.
But Susan didn't mind. She lay back obligingly while Mike took Tim on a conducted tour of female anatomy. The boys separated her slick puffy lips, their warm breath tickling her sensitive skin. She smiled as she felt the now-familiar warm stirring in the pit of her belly, and the trickling of warm fluids bathing her cunt.
"That's her love bump," Mike said proudly, "Look now! See what happens when I play with it." His stubby fingers stroked alongside the fat nubbin, titillating it with gentle probes and pinchings. He listened happily while a deep growl began from his aunt's throat. Her hips twitched uncontrollably, and her secretions oozed thicker over his hands.
"Let me!" Tim shoved his friend aside and grabbed her clit. It felt so good yet so funny, goose bumps crawled over his skinny body.
"Owww!" The heavy touch was intolerable and she sat up quickly, shoving the kid away. "Don't be so rough, Tim!"
"Yeah," Mike chimed in. "Golleee, Tim, you don't know how to do it. Don't hurt Aunt Susan!"
Tim was a feisty little guy who didn't like to be told what to do. Bristling, he said, "Cut it out, I'm not hurting her! Anyhow, you guys better not make me mad. I'll tell my Pop on you! I'll tell him you get little kids in here and take all their clothes off! You'll see what happens then!"
"Of course you could do that," Susan purred, still sure she was in command of the situation. "But then I'd never get to hold your little dick, and kiss it, and suck it, would I? You'd have to wait for years to get another look at a woman's pussy, wouldn't you? Now seriously, Tim, wouldn't you rather do it my way?"
"Aw shit," Mike said, borrowing his friend's favorite word, "if you do anything to hurt Aunt Susan I'll-I'll kill you!"
While Mike's threats didn't mean anything, Susan's reasoning did. "Awright," he growled. "Show me how to do it."
"The best way is to kiss it. Put your face right down there and use your tongue on it," Susan said complacently.
Tim took his time about it. First he carefully examined and touched her clit, and her vulva. He poked a finger at her anus, while little shivers of pleasure ran through her body. Then he doubtfully put his face down into the crack between her legs.
"Uugggghhhh!" The boy drew back.
"Sissy! Let me show you," Mike taunted. He elbowed the other boy aside and sloppily planted a kiss on the wet cunt. Then he got down to work, more skillful by the minute.
He tongued her clit until Susan was in spasms of pleasure, her hands digging into the upholstery and her head wagging wildly from side to side. He loved the wet rubbery feel of her pussy lips, and slavered his hot tongue over them. Even before he'd gotten to the point of tongue-fucking, he sensed his aunt was ready to cum. He smiled into her cunt as the ripply vibrations wracked her plump body, setting her tits to quivering and all her luscious rolls of flesh into motion.
"Oooooo," she gasped, her tongue hanging loosely from her mouth as she moaned.
Moments later, Susan sat up and looked fondly at the sweet little boys. Tim, she was happy to notice, had half an erection. His stubby cock was filling out and growing stiff. She reached for it and cuddled it in her hands. "Sweet baby," she crooned.
"Go on, blow him," Mike urged.
That was exactly what she meant to do anyway. So she took a firmer hold on the fat white worm, and planted soft butterfly kisses up and down it. He was getting harder! She opened her lips and sucked, until his growing dick disappeared into the wet warm cavity. His cock tasted good, different from Mike, she discovered, but just as delicious. Her tongue found the wrinkled skin at the tip of his cock and pushed at it, until the round red bulb was exposed to the warmth, bathed in her profuse saliva.
Tim jerked and jumped, but never so as to pull his cock out of that wonderful mouth. Muscles in his ass tightened and let go, his hands and arms and feet twitched with the intensity of his pleasure. Then he felt her hands between his legs, one cupping his full balls, the other creeping up into the crack of his ass. Her finger poked delicately at his asshole and then penetrated the puckered brown hole.
"Eeekk! Oh shit, oh Jes-uzzz!" he squealed.
The finger fucked his anus harder, sending him into a jolting spasmodic orgasm. Her tongue and mouth never stopped, and he had the fantastic pleasure of feeling her suck him dry. His hands dug into her shoulders as he beat his slackening cock into her mouth. The sigh of her cheeks hollowing as she swallowed added a final, almost painful delight to the total sensation. When she finally let the limp worm slip over her semen-stained lips, the little boy dropped to the floor in exhaustion.
That was all Mike was waiting for. With a broad grin on his face, he sprang up on the sofa. He kept remembering how great it felt to fuck, and he quickly pushed his hard-on into his aunt's wet capacious womb. Every time the head of his prick butted up against the slick wall of her vagina, he thought he'd die! Then he was climbing that high ladder, reaching for the remembered but always new peak of orgasm.
Susan was climbing, too, or soaring rather, into some place she'd never been before. Each orgasm seemed to make her more susceptible to the next one. It was like opening a door she'd never known existed, and finding an Aladdin's cave of joy behind it. She bucked and twitched, muttered wildly, throwing not only her head but her upper body frantically from side to side.
Tim watched, as awed as he'd ever been in his life. His mouth watered as he saw those fat tits swinging, their rosy buds fully erect and bouncing on the white fleshy mounds. Impulsively he bent over her and sucked on a hard nipple, his head swinging with the movement of her torso. He knew he was increasing her pleasure by the way she gasped and reached out toward him blindly. He squeezed her other tit in his hand, and felt her arms go around him in a sweaty hug.
"I ... I ... I'm cumming. I'M CUMMMINNNG!" Mike shouted.
"Yes yes yes yes YESS!" Susan answered.
"Cum cum cum CUMMM!" Tim hollered.
Mike's balls exploded and he felt the burning wetness shoot out, stream after stream as if it were trying to drown her cunt. He shook himself like a wet dog, and then fell away with a sigh.
Tim felt something strange in his groin. Letting go of Susan, he looked down in astonishment. His little prick, untouched by hands or cunt, was going off on its own! The milky liquid spattered wildly, splashing Susan's big belly and tits and even her arms and neck. A couple of drops landed wetly near the corner of her mouth.
"Oh sweet Jesus," he muttered reverently.
For some twenty minutes, the silence was broken only by the heavy breathing of the exhausted boys, and Susan's light bubbling snore. Tim slept where he'd dropped, on the bare wooden floor, curled up like a little wild animal. Mike cuddled up next to his aunt, one hand flung across her breast, his fingers curled lightly over her tit.
Susan could have slept longer, could have dozed for an hour and then awakened to do it all over again. There were things to experiment with, various lewd contortions of the body, which came to her imagination-helped along somewhat by the various positions she'd seen portrayed in the erotic books. But something kept nagging at her mind. There was somewhere she had to go, something to do-something important. Finally she freed her arm from under Mike's body and looked at her wristwatch. Good Lord! It was a quarter to six-and Harold was to pick her up at six-thirty! And Harold, good old steady reliable DULL Harold, was always punctual to the minute! She shook the boys awake, and began to dress. It certainly was difficult to pull the girdle on over her damp flesh! She wished wistfully that she could go without it, but knew very well how she'd wobble and sway.
"Why don't you boys go eat at the diner?" She gave them money from her purse and told Tim to be sure and phone home first, for permission. She certainly didn't want to get into trouble with his parents! Feeling guilty both because of Harold and for not cooking Mike's supper, she hurried the few blocks to her house.
A quick shower, quick even though she couldn't resist running her soapy hands languorously over her steamy flesh, and she put on one of her flowered dresses. Susan wore a half-size dress from the Daytime Dress department, and up until now she'd always been complacently pleased with her looks. Now she studied herself critically in the full-length mirror, and wished she could find something more youthful and flattering.
Nevertheless, it was good enough for Harold!
Exactly as six-thirty she sat in the living room with the front door open. Through the screen, she could watch the walk from the driveway where he always parked.
Six-thirty-five.
Six-forty-five.
Seven o'clock.
Terrible fears began to filter into her mind. Harold had returned to the library and seen her fucking Mikey. Right now he was at the police station telling the sergeant all about it. No, he wouldn't do that. He'd gone and gotten drunk instead? No, that wasn't like Harold either.
He'd seen her with Mikey and Tim, in some way she couldn't fathom. The library door was locked wasn't it? She'd tested it twice. Anyhow, he was right now spreading the terrible news, feeling it his duty to inform Tim's parents. Any minute, the knock at the door would come.
Her stomach heaved and she wondered if she'd make it back upstairs to the bathroom, before she vomited up her guts. When Harold's usual light rat-tat-tat sounded, she jumped as if she'd been stung by a bee. "Harold!"
He let himself in. "I'm sorry I'm late, honey. I was clear out on the other side of town, delivering some printing, and I had a flat tire."
Her stomach settled back into place, but Harold's still leaped and churned. His lie sounded phony to himself; how could she be taken in?
CHAPTER FIVE
All through supper and a Walt Disney movie, Harold's thoughts strayed. If Susan hadn't been so full of her own secrets, and defensively trying to hide them, she would have noticed that her long-time steady boy friend was in a strange mood. They dined as usual at Mom's Good Eats, ordering the Salisbury steak and mashed potato special. Susan's usual good appetite deserted her. On the other hand, Harold was ravenous, shoveling in the food as if he were just coming off a diet.
They settled back onto the hard seats in the theater with private, separate sighs of relief. Susan relived her adventures of the afternoon so intensely that her white cotton panties were soon soaked by her cream. She shifted her haunches uneasily, hoping her dress stayed dry. If not, she had no idea how-to explain the betraying damp stain.
Harold stared at the screen, his hands loosely folded in his lap. He had no fears similar to hers; in fact, he wondered if he would ever get an erection again. He remembered a phrase one of his more vulgar friends used: he was screwed, blued and tattooed. While not very nice, it exactly expressed his condition at the moment. He gave himself up to his memories of the day, every now and then heaving a sigh which seemed drawn up from his toes. He wasn't sure exactly which memories were real and which drunken fantasy, but they were all good.
After his involuntary erection and climax in the car, he was confused. Should he go look up a whore? Could he even get it up if he did? And-if he didn't-would this shameful embarrassing thing happen to him while he was having dinner with Susan? If it did, that would be the end of everything, for there'd be no way of hiding it. His girl, maybe even his job-depending on who saw him and what Susan said.
The either/or was too depressing. He looked around as the car cruised slowly, and saw a bar on the comer. Nobody he knew would be in this part of town, much less in a bar in the middle of the afternoon. He parked and walked in timidly, ordering a seven-seven with a double shot. After the ice cubes and the booze, there wasn't much room for pop in the glass, but he drank it thirstily.
He'd started out with some confidence, but it faded as he tried to remember the whore's house or even the street. Come to think of it, what the hell was her name? He ordered another, and with it came a girl. Not the one he'd been looking for, but this one was even prettier, he thought fuzzily.
"Hello, handsome. What's a guy like you doing all alone?"
She had wide blue eyes and a low-cut dress, and that was nearly all he could recall. He remembered buying her a drink, then another and another. All the time he was peering down into the deep cleft of her bosom. The rose-shadowed curve of her breast was plainly visible. Then, when he leaned back, he saw that she was braless. Her nipples were boldly out-lined against the thin blue stuff of her dress.
She wanted fifty dollars.
"Fifty is okay, but-I've been drinking. I'm not sure I can get it up ... I don' wanna waste fifty."
"That's all right, honey," she grinned at him. "Getting it up is my job, isn't it? Tell you what. If you're not satisfied, I'll give you your money back. You can't ask fairer than that, can you?"
He knew what fifty dollars squandered would do to his finances, but recklessly he said yes. They had a couple more drinks to seal the bargain, then she led him off to her apartment, while the bartender smiled knowingly.
More bits of memory came to him as he slumped in the uncomfortable seat, pieces fitting into the jigsaw puzzle of his wild afternoon. Her apartment was cheap but clean. The girl wasted no time throwing off her clothes, and he studied her body as carefully as his bleary eyes would let him. She was a hefty piece, wide in the hips, big-assed in fact. His dreams had been about a sweet slender young girl who'd look up to and respect him, and instead he had a wise prostitute with a broad ass. But it was all right, really; he liked a bit of meat on the bones. In fact, he wished she'd had bigger tits.
But that was all right, too. Everything was all right, especially after he undressed and she got on her knees on the bed, and sucked his drooping penis up into her accomplished mouth.
Harold wished he knew exactly what her technique was, how her tongue could seem to be so many different places at the same time. But she did what she'd promised. With her small breasts (big nipples, though, he remembered!) hanging down, her haunches swaying, her fantastic mouth and throat sucking, probing, swallowing, she gave him a hard-on that surprised both of them.
"Wow, mister, you really have got one huge dong on you," the girl said admiringly, and Harold swelled with pride. He could see it for himself. A good nine inches, his cock was rigidly reaching for the ceiling. It pulsed with blood and the wrinkled tip looked like a fist or the knotted end of a club. The thin white skin was stretched tautly over its enormous erection. He grinned up at her, seeing that she really had a pretty face, and her figure wasn't all that bad, either.
Still, fifty was a lot and he wanted to get his money's worth.
"You get on top," he ordered, thinking she might as well be the one to work. The girl kept smiling as she brought herself up on her toes, her open groin arched over his crotch. He could see the pink pouting cuntlips under her muff of hair, and even the glistening ragged inner lips. They were as shiny red, he thought crazily, as an unsheathed prick of a dog with a hard-on. She lowered herself slowly on his big pole, guiding it in with one hand while she balanced with the other.
It had been a year since Harold had fucked anyone except in his dreams. The sensation of his rod sliding into her moist slippery pussy was indescribable. He clenched his hands and grunted as he remembered it, then quickly became aware of his surroundings. He glanced at Susan; she was seemingly absorbed in the movie, and nobody else had noticed. He tried to follow the movie for a moment and then gave himself up again to his memories.
by God, the girl was a snapper! Her cunt closed on his like a velvet fist, a wet velvet fist. Slowly she took the whole length of his rod up into her fantastically warm and slippery vagina. The tip of his cock was butting against the cervix when her thighs finally closed on his. By Jesus, she felt like a virgin! So tight and soft and smooth! Then her inner muscles clamped down and released, clamped and let go.
"Goddd," he breathed, "God, but you're good!"
For fifty dollars, I have to be," she reminded him. Hardly moving her hips at all, she brought him to a peak of almost intolerable excitement. He gasped like a beached fish. His eyes rolled back in his head, his very toes curled up. In one more second, his charged balls would spew out their hot load into her incredible cunt.
And she stopped.
"Wassa matter?" He opened his eyes and looked at her, and she had her perpetual grin spread across her face.
"Don't cum yet, honey," she whispered. "Try to hold back a little now, will you?"
Harold realized she was as wet and hot and excited as he was. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead and her tongue poked out of one corner of her mouth.
"Anything special you'd like now, honey?"
"Yeah ... I wanna cum in your ass." He didn't know what made him say that; certainly he'd never done such a vulgar thing in his life! But at that moment, it seemed deliciously perverted. If he was degrading himself by screwing a whore, he might as well do the worst thing he could think of. It wasn't logic which his rational mind would have accepted, but he was out of his gourd with lust and liquor.
She shrugged. "Why not?" Pulling off him with agonizing slowness, she reversed her position on the bed. Leaning her head on her hands, she flaunted the wide cheeks of her ass in the air. Then she changed position; pulling a pillow toward her, she rested her flushed face on it. Her hands went back to her asscheeks, spreading them wide and invitingly open. The plump white flesh, with a blue vein only accentuating the thick satiny skin, fascinated him. Her asshole was like a little brown dimple in the shadows of her crease.
Harold hoisted himself up slowly, wondering if he had the nerve to go through with it. The throbbing of his nuts answered that question. He was ready for anything, anything at all. He pulled himself semi-upright and centered the bulbous red head of his cock right on the round puckered hole. It gave way easily before his determined thrust. Holding her hips to increase the pressure, he shoved again. Oh shit, but that felt fantastically fine! The tight sheath gripped his sensitive organ in a way he'd never experienced before.
He worked his cock slowly in and out of the tight fiery passage, marveling at the way it seemed to grip his hard rod. It was gross, it was perverted, it was the best sex he'd ever had! She was moist and fiery inside both openings! He could hear her moaning softly, not in pain but in total mind-blowing ecstasy. He heard obscenities gush over his lips with amazement. "Oh shit oh fuck sweet Jesus I'm screwing her ass ... it's so damn fucking good ... Jesus Christ I can't stand it ... motherfuckin beautiful ... you bitchin little whore, I love you!" Seized by a sudden impulse, he leaned over and sank his teeth into one white meaty asscheek. He bit her fairly hard, but she gave no sign except a stifled gasp. Her hips continued to move steadily back and forth, meeting his stroke.
The enormous cock reamed her anus from stem to stern, pulling the pink inner flesh out with it when he pulled back. He planted a smacking wet kiss on her buttock, in the same place where he'd bit her. He could see blue teeth marks there already.
She began to buck harder, more wildly, and he speeded up his pace to meet hers. His hands gripped tighter, and his balls slapped against her soft flesh. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he chanted, ready to die for love of this obscenely talented woman. She knew what he wanted, and she wanted only to give it to him! He certainly knew all prostitutes weren't like that. He'd just lucked out, that was all!
Harold gave a final hard lunge that threatened to drive her right through the headboard, before his balls contracted and creamed into her asshole. He could feel his own warm sperm around his jerking cock, bathing it in a lovely hot liquid bath. His heart pounded harder, his breath came raspingly; and he fell away from her, asleep before his head hit the sheets.
When Harold awoke, his first sensation was one of total pleasure. His poor abused cock was losing its soreness in the warmth and wetness of the girl's mouth. Her hands were on his balls, squeezing gently, the hairy sacs growing fuller under the pressure. Her face was right up in the vee of his legs, her nose pressed hard on his crotch. There was another delightfully ticklish sensation which at first his sleepy mind couldn't identify, and then he realized; she had a finger up his ass, and was wiggling it gently back and forth.
Harold didn't know what readers of modern sex texts were well aware of, that there are more responsive nerve endings in the anus that even on a penis. But he discovered for himself how delightfully exciting, rich and electric it was to get that tight passage agitated and reamed out. As he lay there half asleep, he felt her move away from his cock; it fell out with a heavy sad plop! Before he could open his mouth to complain, he felt the wet stiffness of her tongue pressing on his asshole. The surge of pleasure sent him into orbit! His hips bucked and jerked, but she had a tight hold on him and the fiery tongue still pushed its way into the narrow odorous opening. Her hands meanwhile were busily jerking him off, her knowing fingers sliding the moveable skin up and down on the now-hard shaft.
It was no time at all before the hot jism pooled in his balls and forced its way out the tiny eye, splashing her fingers along with his own hairy thighs.
"Ummfph! Oooph!" he snorted, as the sizzling fluid spurted. "Rrowwrrr!"
Suddenly he had left the girl on her bed and was back in the theater with Susan. "Wake up! You snored," she hissed accusingly.
He'd be damned if he'd snored, but if she thought so it was all to the good. Better to be accused of being a drowsy old man than a sex-crazed bachelor who'd spent the entire afternoon in a prostitute's bed, even making him late for a date for the first time in living memory!
"Sorry," he muttered.
Their usual practice was to stop for a soda after their trip to the movies. Usual practice be damned, thought Harold, who desperately needed a little hair of the dog. "Why don't we go to the Cozy Corner for a beer instead?"
Susan agreed without hesitation. One new experience seemed to lead to others! She drank her half of the pitcher of beer he ordered, and even agreed to split another.
With a mighty effort, Harold yanked his mind back to the present, and so did Susan. They talked idly of this and that over the second pitcher before he drove her home through the warm summer night. At her doorway, Susan sighed. Another of those awkward unsatisfying kisses was about to take place; what a bore!
But her long-time steady surprised her. Taking her shoulders firmly he pulled her to him, and pressed his mouth warmly on hers. She could feel his teeth, as if he had his mouth open. The startled woman could feel his body pressing tightly against her, and even-could it be?-imagined a fat cock pushing against her flowered print dress.
Harold kissed her angrily. If only she showed the slightest interest, they could get married! And he'd be saved! "Susan, I need you so! Why don't we set the date?"
She was faint with astonishment. "To get married?"
"Of course! It's ridiculous to go on like this year after year. Susan, I don't know how to say this." He held his head back, to see her face in the moonlight, but his arms were still around her, holding her thick body close. He hesitated and went on: "A man has certain needs, dear. Do you understand what I mean?"
Her body was acting like that of a skittish young girl! She not only didn't pull away, she actually leaned harder on his broad chest. She knew what he meant, all right, but to think of going to bed with Harold ... No matter how she was creaming in her panties at the moment, she couldn't even imagine seeing him naked. He had the beginnings of a pot-belly, and his cock must be terribly huge and coarse and ugly.
"Oh Harold, I don't know what to say."
"Just don't tell me it's so sudden."
They both laughed, and he released her from the tight grasp. 'Think about it, won't you?" he pleaded.
"I didn't know you were ... were ... in such a hurry."
"Well, I am! Seven years is ... it's ludicrous! It's sick! I'm going to have a wife in the next six months, Susan. All I can say is that I hope it's you." Or, his mind added, I'm going back and propose to that whore. I'll have to find out her name first, and she probably doesn't want me anyway. But if not her, then somebody! Soon!
"I'll think about it," she promised. Once inside the house, she leaned against the closed door. What had gotten into that damned old goat, anyway? She surely didn't want to lose him. Life without his company would be unthinkable. She'd be just another single woman, home alone with her television.
But marriage? Going to bed with Harold was not her idea of a jolly treat, specially since she had two darling young lovers. She tossed and turned half the night, wondering what to do. Lose Harold, or lose the only sexual pleasure she'd ever known.
CHAPTER SIX
Susan woke up the next morning full of apprehension. She couldn't figure out what was going on with Harold, why he'd suddenly gotten the idea of getting married right away. Naturally, with her bad conscience, she thought perhaps he'd noticed the change in her. Did he see the stain of pussy-juices on her dress? Or perhaps catch her rich womanly scent and realize she was sexually excited? Was he in fact trying to save her from herself? It was hard to believe, but no harder than thinking Harold himself felt the need for nooky, and was turning to her sedate self for relief.
If he persisted on this path, she had two choices and neither one of them was appealing. She could marry Harold and give up her darling little boy-lovers. What would she get in exchange? Harold's middle-aged pot-bellied body! And since she'd been convinced for years he had little or no sex drive, she doubted that he would do her much good.
Her other choice was even more unthinkable. She knew plenty of women who'd leap at the chance of grabbing him, if only for security. Some of them were younger and prettier than Susan, too. She'd gotten into the habit of taking him for granted, but now she remembered the lonely time of her widowhood before he'd come into her life. Going to movies and playing cards with "the girls," women like herself without men. Of course she'd be one up on them because of Mike and Tim, but how long could that last?
"Who was that?" Mike asked sleepily, yawning and scratching his thatch of hair.
"Harold. He's having breakfast with us."
"Oh. If you don't mind, Aunt Susan, I'll just have some toast and split. Ol' Harold won't miss me.
She knew he was disappointed not to have her to himself, but there was nothing she could do about it. Beginning her usual routine, she squeezed oranges, mixed the batter for blueberry pancakes, put on a pot of coffee. Susan was turning over the sputtering, sizzling sausages in the pan when she felt a hand on her behind. Wriggling a little with pleasure as the hand squeezed her asscheek, she said over her shoulder: "So you want some sausage and pancakes after all?"
"I never said I didn't."
God! It was HAROLD!
She wheeled around, shocked at the way she'd almost given away her secret. The poor man was looking at her with a puzzled air, and she blushed deeply because it had been his hand pinching her buttocks so familiarly.
"Don't mind me, Harold, I'm not awake yet. Have a cup of coffee."
He sat at the kitchen table and looked at her over the newspaper. What in hell was going on with Susan? His methodical mind turned over the clues. She hadn't screamed when he pinched her ass, the way she was supposed to. He'd never even touched her there before! And her comment was ... peculiar. She looked the same, a little prettier than usual maybe, with her rosy cheeks. She was wearing the same quilted housecoat she always wore, but ... his hand still tingled from contact with her flesh. There was no stiff girdle squeezing her in. She sounded like ... he thought about it longer. She sounded as if she were talking to her husband! Could it be she was absent-mindedly reliving her long-ago marriage.?
That must be it, and he was responsible by pushing her to set a date.
Harold decided he liked the cozy familiarity of marriage and breakfasting together. It wouldn't be so bad; and when he got these terribly horny feelings, he could always reach for her plump body. She wasn't the sexiest looking woman in the world, but all the same, there was something very attractive about her.
He felt his cock begin to stiffen, and quickly rearranged the newspapers, piling the want ad sections on his lap. His embarrassing and almost perpetual hard-on died away while he tackled the food, appreciating her cooking as never before. He felt a possessive pride in the knowledge that she was a good cook, and smacked his lips at the thought of all the good meals he could look forward to. Why had this never occurred to him before, he wondered, and knew the answer. Food couldn't hold a marriage together; sex could and would.
"More coffee?"
"Please. That was real good, Susan, as always." He hesitated, and then went ahead boldly. "How about it, honey? Are you going to be cooking my breakfasts every day?"
"Lord, but you're romantic this morning."
"I'll show you romance, as soon as I've digested the meal," he mock-threatened. "Come on, honey, make up your mind. We've wasted too many years as it is."
There could be only one answer, and she gave it, however reluctantly. "All right, Harold, whenever you say."
He'd thought it all out during a sleepless night. The printing business was slow in summer; one of the boys who helped him at busy times could manage for a week. "How about next Saturday? We don't want a fancy wedding, do we? I can take a week off ... we can go to the mountains or, well, wherever you like."
Later, side by side on the sofa, he hugged her up to him. One hand crawled over and squeezed her titties. Instant lust sprang up in her body, and her panties grew wet. But she put his hand away, saying, "We've waited this long, we can wait another week."
She was creaming in her panties all right, but it wasn't for him.
"It's my turn," Tim whined. "Mike's been here with you all night. I bet you've been sucking and fucking and everything, without me."
Susan was serenely in control. "Well, that's not true, Tim. Besides, there's plenty for everyone. You just stand there and see if there isn't."
The two naked little boys were sitting on the edge of her bed while she removed the last of her clothing, skinning her heavy tan nylons off her pudgy legs. She'd sent Harold off to his Sunday afternoon poker game with the happy assurance that she'd be all his in a week, but she didn't mean to think about that. Next Saturday was time enough to face it. Nor did she want the boys to know one second sooner than necessary; she wasn't at all sure how they'd react.
Sighing over the red marks left on her round belly and legs from her underclothing, she lowered her haunches to the floor. Neither boy had an erection yet, though Mike's little cock was twitching as if ready to go. She fondled a prick in each hand, gratified by the way her touch made them begin to swell.
"My cock's bigger than his," Tim said.
"It isn't! It isn't!" Mike looked ready to cry.
"Now, now, boys. His is longer, but yours is fatter. Anyhow, it's not the size, but what you do with it that counts." She loved handling the dear young penises and the balls that seemed so soft and vulnerable. She inched closer and sent her head flying back and forth, as she licked and kissed first one and then the other. She sighed, wishing she could get both of them in her mouth at the same time. Well, why not? Saliva flooded over her tongue at the very thought.
"Move closer together," she urged them, and when they saw her game, they cooperated happily. Slurping loudly, she drew both penises in at once until her mouth was filled with their warm sweet flesh. Her tongue wagged back and forth frantically, while a deeper swallow pulled the hot meat farther back in her throat.
"Oh, shit! That feels super!" Tim cried. "Jeez, Aunt Susan ... is it okay if I call you Aunt Susan too?" All his hostility was forgotten in the ecstatic moment.
She bobbed her head up and down to signify yes, thinking what a crazy question that was.
"Let's fuck her mouth at the same time, okay Tim? One ... two ... three and go!"
It worked for a minute, while she strained her jaws wider and wider. The feel of the hot cocks pounding into her soft palate sent chills up and down her spine. Her pussy creamed and the thick fluid ran down her thighs, staining the bedroom rug. But then their beat became irregular, they were getting in each other's way. Mike pulled out, watching and jacking off while his pal fucked harder and harder into the ovaled rosy lips.
Remembering how much he'd like having his asshole reamed, she cupped her hands around his flat asscheeks and inserted a finger. His anus gulped it in while she bounced him back and forth between her avidly gulping mouth and her hard penetration of the asshole.
"Oh, boy! Oh, shit!" The youngster blissfully closed his eyes as his steaming jism spurted into her mouth, and she sucked furiously to swallow it all.
This was just absolutely the greatest thing that ever happened to him!
Afterward, as Susan rested on the bed, Tim crept to her side and put his arms around her. "I'm sorry I was so mean. You're really good to us, and Mike's my best friend."
"That's all right, honey," she crooned. "Just snuggle up to Aunt Susan now, and have a little taste of titty." With a boy on either side, and a hot mouth on each rosy erect nipple, she thought she was in heaven. Every now and then thoughts of the future slipped in to roil her calm, but she quickly put them away from her. Time enough to think about Harold when it happened. She supposed he'd roll on her and bang away a few times, and then begin to snore. This was the way she vaguely remembered her husband in bed. But that was all right. It was the price she had to pay in order to keep Harold, and she could handle it.
Somehow, she'd manage to satisfy him and sneak at least quickies with the boys. Her resolve hardened as she contemplated losing them. No, she wouldn't let them go. She'd lie and sneak and do whatever she had to, because her body and aroused sexuality just wouldn't let her go any other way.
It was time for action, particularly as a couple of hard warm hands were crawling over her vulva, tweaking her clit and caressing her asshole. She had an inspiration.
"Listen here, boys, have you ever heard of ... fucking in the ass?" They grew wide-eyed.
"That's what dogs do," said Tim.
"People, too. I know. I saw it in a book." It was a page she flipped past rapidly, but now all the details were photographed in her mind.
She directed them to lie on either side of her, while she swung her sagging body on her side. Tim was behind, his small penis growing hard as he rubbed it up and down in the crease between her buttocks. His cock was longer but slimmer, and she hoped it would fit best in the narrow opening.
Mike hugged her around the waist, his face almost suffocated by her boobs. His erection came quickly as he nuzzled and sucked on her tits. He wiggled his skinny body into position, shoving his slim rigid rod into her warm cunt with its seemingly endless flow of lubricating fluid. She pinched her inner muscles down to keep it in place, and by moving her hips managed to create a delicious friction on her clit.
"Go ahead, Tim, put it in! You can do it!"
The boy was hesitant but he tried. Directing his cock with his hands, he pointed it at the elastic-ringed hole. To his surprise, it penetrated almost right away. The tightness and warmth sent waves of lust flooding over him, and he bucked and poked erratically before he settled down to a steady rhythm.
Susan was in heaven. The two hard cocks slammed into her from either side, with such fresh young vigor she thought they might go right through flesh and membrane and meet! Her asshole gave her fantastic stabs of lewd pleasure! And the fat bump of her clit was throbbing with heart-stopping lust!
"Oh, my God," Susan moaned. "Oh, you dear little fuckers, you darling hard cocks. Oh, sock it into me, gimme gimme gimme! Oh oh OHHHH!" She felt her cum ripple over her but the boys were nowhere near finished. The steady beat kept up, pushing even her big body back and forth as lightly as a leaf in the wind. She arched her butt backward and Tim slammed down, his little balls slapping on her asscheeks. She went forward, and Mike shoved his heated meat into her grasping pussy. Backward to Tim, forward to Mike, a wild frenzied coupling that nearly drove her out of her mind. She climaxed again ... and again ... shouting out wordlessly each time.
"EEEKKK! AAARRRGH! WOOOF!" She moaned steadily as the hard lewd double-fucking kept her constantly shaking with one cum after the other, until she was almost praying for the end.
Tim popped first, and his steaming white sperm drenching her asshole brought on the strongest cum of all. She gasped raggedly, her eyes rolled back in her head and her teeth clamped down on her lower lip. Then Mike shot his load into her achingly hungry cunt, flooding it with sweet warm stickiness. She had one last rolling overwhelming cum which seemed to go on and on and on....
She slept deeply for half an hour, and when she awoke the boys were still dozing. As earlier that day, her first thought was of Harold, but this time it was a contented, self-satisfied way. Of course she could marry him and still keep her necessary relationship with Mike and Tim. Why should she ever doubt it? Susan didn't realize that once again her body was playing tricks on her mind. The sated languorous happiness which filled her so lulled her fears that anything seemed possible.
She looked at the darling boys sprawled beside her on the big bed, and thought she knew what love was for the first time in her life. Not even marriage could deprive her of it!
Mike and Tim woke up gradually and soon were bouncing on the bed and giggling over their exciting experiences.
"Oh boy, oh boy! Did it ever feel funny when you were fucking her cunt and I was ploughing into her bunghole! That was just something else, wasn't it, Mike?"
"You bet!" The little boy laughed and then added, "I wanna do that too, Aunt Susan. I wanna fuck your ass. Can I, huh? Can I stick my dong right up your shitter-hole?" Mike asked.
She reproved him gently. "Such language, Mikey! That's not a very nice way to describe it ... But yes, you can, any time. I enjoyed it very much."
"I wanna do it right now!"
"With that little weenie?" Tim scoffed at him. "You gotta get a stiffie first, dummy."
"I KNOW that. But Aunt Susan can give me a stiffie any time she wants to, can't you, Auntie?
Please, please! Make my dong all hard again. I love it. I love it 'cause it feels so good!"
Susan checked her wristwatch, the only article she wore on her ample body. Harold would still be at the poker game. Even if he did unexpectedly show up on a Sunday evening, it wouldn't be for hours. She'd have time to shower and dress; maybe she'd bake a lemon meringue pie, just in case, and brew some iced tea. Yes, there was plenty of time for her to indulge her little darling in his lascivious desires.
"Just you move over here to Aunt Susan," she cooed. "Let me get that pretty little prick in my hands, and you'll see a stiffie, I promise you."
With a trusting smile, Mike spread his legs and scooted forward on his bum. He watched with happy anticipation while his aunt took the little blob of limp flesh in her hands and blew her breath hotly on it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mike and Tim were the only ones to eat lemon meringue pie that evening. Harold had other ideas. Nutty ones, he told himself, but then, lately all his ideas had been nutty. He felt like a man driving a reluctant friend into crime, himself being both the innocent but gutless friend, and the would-be criminal.
The poker game had been a bummer. Because he couldn't keep his mind on it, he lost six dollars and seventy-five cents, and took a heavy ribbing from his pals.
Leaving the game early, he wandered down to the Cozy Corner for a beer. He had a lot of things on his mind. Going home to an empty house was not very appealing, and the synthetic friendliness of a bar was better than anything else he could think of. Going to Susan's would be no better than going home, because she was one of the things he had to think about.
He kept having this weird suspicion that something odd was going on in her life, but when he tried to pin it down, he had no proof. There was the book she'd been lost in, the book he'd swear had sexy pictures in it; there was the odd remark about the sausage and pancakes; and there was some peculiar aura about her which he couldn't identify. She was the same fat, friendly woman he'd known for years, but still there was something....
He nursed a draft beer and stared at the bottles behind the bar. There was nobody here he wanted to talk to-just a couple of long-haired freaks with beards, and several young women. And he didn't dare even talk to women, with the way his treacherous cock was behaving. Being thrown out of the Cozy Corner was definitely not an attractive prospect.
The only part of the vague suspicions he could possibly pin down was the book. He debated inwardly on the possibilities of getting caught, and what sort of explanation he could come up with.
Even though he couldn't think of anything plausible, the temptation was strong. It would be easy; he had a key to the big front door. It was thanks to Susan that he'd been elected to the Board of Directors, along with more prominent citizens like the banker and the high school principal.
Harold drank several more beers to get his courage up. When he left the bar he still wasn't decided, but his feet led him toward the red brick building. The night was dark and moonless, and with the porch sheltering the doorway, he felt safe from being seen. Once inside, he muttered angry low-voiced curses. Why hadn't he thought to bring a flashlight? But he made his way to the back room without rapping his shins more than twice. Lighting matches, he unlocked the case which held the collection of erotica.
That book was right on top! He recognized the cover from the gold design on it, which on closer inspection turned out to be some sort of phallic design.
Slipping his find under his arm, he made his way out again. If he'd had the foresight to bring a flashlight, he could have examined it on the spot; but as it was, he'd have to risk nobody looking for it the next day. It wasn't much of a risk, he knew, as the case was rarely opened.
Harold prepared himself deliberately for what might or might not be a titillating find. He was the kind of man who shaves at night to be ready for the morning, so he shaved and showered. He found a half bottle of bourbon in the back of the cupboard and built himself a stiff drink. Then he went back to the bedroom and adjusted the lamp.
Everything ready, he lay on his bed and opened the expensive leather cover. This artist was a great one, he read, and his collection, combining photographs with line drawings was considered his masterpiece. It was the gift, he noted, of the deceased father of one of the wealthiest men in town. Hmph! He'd heard the old boy went a little dotty near the end. Must have been, to throw away his money on books.
Harold turned the pages slowly, impressed in spite of himself. Some-of the young women portrayed were fantastically well built, and he lost himself for long moments in staring at hips and thighs and tits and luscious triangular muffs. Ummhmmm! The artist was certainly a great tit man, whatever else. Harold absent-mindedly began to stroke his cock, which had poked its way through the fly of his pajamas.
Then he turned one more page, and saw it. He was positive this was the very page Susan was looking at at her desk that morning. He hardly noticed the young man, but took in every detail of the young girl with her back to the camera. The line of her hips and ass was particularly enticing. And on the facing page, he saw, was an artist's rendition of the same scene.
Eventually he put the book down and lay back, jacking off as furiously as he'd ever done. When he'd cum and wiped up the frothy white semen with a kleenex, he lay there looking at the ceiling and thinking.
Okay, it was perfectly normal for people to be interested in sexy pictures. Even women? Yes, even women! But when it came to Susan, he was foxed. He just couldn't put it together in his mind. Nevertheless, he had to face the facts. Somewhere under her blubber beat the heart of a sensual woman ... and all these years he hadn't guessed. Poor thing, she was probably afraid to admit it even to herself!
She'd get the surprise of her life next Saturday night, because he had to confess he'd never given her any reason to think her lascivious needs might be reciprocated.
Come to think of it, why wait until Saturday night? They way he was going, her bridegroom might be in trouble by then, even have his can thrown in jail if he kept on the way he'd been going.
Harold smiled happily and began to plan. He picked up the telephone and dialed.,....
"Have a brandy alexander, honey. I made them especially for you." Harold put the stemmed glass in her hand, sure that would do the trick. Neither he nor Susan were drinkers, in spite of his indulgences lately. After all, they'd both been brought up by old-fashioned strict parents, and liquor was almost as bad as sex-according to their ingrained beliefs. He sometimes wondered sardonically how he'd happened to be conceived, but he was damn sure his mother and father hadn't let themselves enjoy it.
Anyhow he'd set the scene for seduction. The brandy alexanders were sweet and tasted good, but they packed a wallop. His hi-fi was filled with a stack of records, the kind he'd heard lately described as "wallpaper music." He didn't care; he knew what he liked, and what would seem romantic to his woman.
It hadn't been easy to get Susan to his house for dinner. She was suspicious and obstinate, but he'd finally talked her around. "We have so much to talk about. We haven't settled any of the details of the wedding yet! And with your nephew there, it'll be easier to talk at my place."
Then he'd persuaded the cook at Mom's Good Eats to fix a hot dinner and deliver it to the kitchen, where it was keeping warm in the oven. Harold personally didn't give a shit about eating at this point, but he couldn't get Susan here under false pretenses.
She sipped the drink and discovered it went down very easily, in fact she liked the taste. She accepted another and studied Harold. Evidently he meant to hold her to her promise, which she'd given so reluctantly. What was his big hurry? First he'd phoned her late Sunday night demanding to know if she really meant she'd marry him. Then, he insisted on this private dinner party which made her even more suspicious. Could old reliable Harold possibly be getting horny? She guessed she'd have to let him do it to her after they were married, but she'd reserve her own pleasures for the boys.
"Come on now, honey, tell me where you'd like to go for our honeymoon."
They'd already decided to be married by a justice of the peace, and Harold had promised to make immediate appointments for their blood tests. She couldn't care less about where they honeymooned, looking on it as something to be endured. But she knew she couldn't back out of their marriage now. People would be suspicious if she turned him down; it would call attention to her and that was the last thing she needed to have happen.
"The mountains will be fine with me, Harold. What about that lodge everyone says is so nice? Pinecrest, I think that's the name of it."
"Fine, fine." He edged closer to her. He'd actually had to steer her away from a chair and onto the overstuffed sofa, and he meant to take full advantage of it. "Let me top your glass up, Susan," he urged.
She took it, yawning and complaining. "I'm afraid it'll put me to sleep, Harold. For some reason I didn't sleep well last night. The night was awfully warm, wasn't it? I think I'll have to buy a fan for my bedroom." Warm was hardly the word for her night. After it became clear that Harold wouldn't show up, Tim had gotten permission to spend the night with his friend Mike. The three of them played together almost until daylight, and Susan wasn't used to it.
He corrected her gently. "I'll buy a fan for our bedroom."
"Oh yes, I'm sorry, dear. I keep forgetting."
Harold thought he smelled something from the kitchen. Had he turned the oven too high. Dinner would definitely be late but he didn't want it spoiled. "Excuse me just a minute, honey."
"Of course, dear." Once alone, her eye was attracted by the blender container sitting on the coffee table. One more little sip wouldn't hurt, particularly if Harold meant to keep her waiting for her dinner. Susan refilled her glass, drained it, refilled again. When she set it down on the table, she almost missed and it slopped over messily. She couldn't help it, she was just too damned tired! She gulped half the glassful and leaned her head back.
Harold could have cried in rage and frustration. He'd meant to get her tipsy, not knock her out! And there she was, bubbles forming on her lips as she snored in a ladylike way! He stood in front of the unconscious woman, his prick rock-hard, his careful plan a shambles. Damn her, I'm gonna have her anyway! If she wakes up, so much the better! If she doesn't ... it's better than jerking off, isn't it!
Not too carefully, he pushed her head down and lifted her legs onto the sofa. He thought grimly about the girdle and slip and sensible stockings she'd be sure to be wearing, but it didn't stop him. He pulled the pink striped skirt up and got his second surprise of the evening-and this a happy one. No slip! No girdle! Her stockings were rolled around her thick thighs, he didn't need to bother with them at all. The only underwear she had on, he discovered, was a white cotton bra and a pair of pink rayon panties.
Never dreaming that two young boys had talked her into leaving off her "armor," he figured it must have been planned for him, and his heart softened.
He dragged the panties down and off her feet and put them with her shoes. Her dress was rumpled around her waist, and he had his first view of his future wife's hairy cunt. It was more attractive than he'd expected! There was really something adorable about her plump thighs and dimpled navel. Her labia shone rosily beneath the thickly -haired triangle. His hand cupped her crotch and he felt a thrill at its moist warmth. By God, she was ready even in her sleep! What a helluva woman she was turning out to be-even sound asleep and snoring!
He cupped her asscheeks, letting his fingers trail down the damp crease. Ummmhmmm! His hard-on was getting painful, confined as it was by his undershorts and trousers. Harold quickly took off his shoes and socks, pants and boxer shorts. Naked from the waist down, he stood over her with his huge hard erection soaring out proudly. He fingered it while he stared down at the unconscious body, pulling back the foreskin and squeezing the heavy shaft. He was shaking with excitement.
On impulse, he leaned over her and trailed his red-tipped cock on her cheeks and closed eyes and chin. It left a wet trail like a snail's path, so he smeared it harder over her saliva-dampened lips. This wasn't so bad after all! It might take months to get her to allow this when she was awake!
His insistent cock wouldn't let him wait any longer. He wedged one knee on either side of her body and aimed the ruby tip between the puffy slick lips. It went in as easy as a hot knife cutting butter! Susan stirred and mumbled something but he didn't catch her words. Anyhow, he was much too busy. He bucked and lunged, enjoying the exquisite silken touch of her cunt on his hot rod. He trembled all over as he slammed in again and again, his cockhead butting continuously against the slick walls of her vagina, pounding hard against her cervix. He felt all-powerful, marvelous, as if he could go on forever. And then he caught his breath as he noticed something. She was moving! She was fucking him! In her sleep she bounced back to his every stroke! Harold thought he'd die of happiness. Imagine what it would be like when she was awake!
"You're the one I love," he said thickly. "You! You! YOU!"
His balls slapped stingingly against her ass, and added to his pleasure. She was squirming and moaning now, moving her hips in rhythm as if to get his cock deeper inside her, muttering soft words. He listened and heard: "Darling! Darling! You darling precious boy!"
His cup of happiness overflowed, and so did his balls. The milky white steaming jism spurted in a jerking but continuous stream, drenching her thighs and the sofa as well as splashing back on his own nakedness.
Harold sat back, thoroughly sated. He hated to take his prick out of her, but it slowly slurped over the puffy pussy lips. After washing himself, he used a damp washcloth on her thighs, mopping up the thighs, mopping up the most obvious stains. She still didn't wake, but mumbled something about "darling little prick" and he smiled again.
The dinner obviously would be a ruin. He picked at it, and then put the rest in the refrigerator. Covering Susan with a sheet, he curled up in the big lounge chair. He wanted to be there when she wakened. He wanted to make love to her again and again, when the sweetheart caught up on her sleep.
He was half asleep when the words were replayed in his memory: darling precious BOY? Darling LITTLE prick?
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Ooof! Where in the world am I?" Susan came awake blinking, peering through the dimly lit room. It came to her very slowly that she was still in Harold's living room, with a cover over her. She saw him sleeping in the big chair with a blissful smile on his face. Heavens, she must have fallen asleep! Terribly embarrassed, she struggled to her feet.
She was awfully hungry, but something else was wrong. Rubbing her hands over her face, she sniffed at her fingers. What was all this? Something sticky on her face, and the scent of it was familiar though she couldn't place it.
It was then she discovered her shoes tossed on the carpet, and her pink panties draped over them.
She finished dressing and tiptoed toward the door. She was in a bemused state and didn't want to see or talk to Harold until she'd had time to think. Looking back to be sure he was still asleep, she froze. There on the floor beside him lay a large leather-bound book, one she recognized. Susan turned and scurried out of the house, thoroughly frightened by the series of unexplained events.
Back in her own bedroom, she tried to assemble the facts and make sense out of them. Something was dripping from her pussy, and it wasn't her own fluids; it was male cum. Obviously, she'd had sexual intercourse in the last several hours-while she was asleep! Why, that was no better than rape! What kind of man was Harold, to attack a defenseless woman! And now she realized the stains on her face came from the same source, more cum. He had taken her panties off, he'd smeared her lips and nose with his semen, he'd put his ugly big prick in her and balled her!
She was torn between indignation and amusement. Harold certainly had a nerve! Just thinking about it made her cunt contract and her juices begin to flow. She supposed he thought he was justified, since they were to be married so soon. But to do it while she was asleep! It was so very peculiar, she didn't know what to think.
She couldn't help feeling violated (and in some ways that was a thrilling concept) even though her honesty told her she'd done much stranger things herself during the past week.
And then, of course, there was the book.
Just as if she'd been there, she knew how that happened. He saw her looking at it, and he was curious. He used his key to open the library, and he took it home to see what had been so interesting to her. But after that, her explanations ran out. She refused to think Harold, or nay other man, had been changed by a book. Something else was behind his odd behavior, and sooner or later she'd have to know what it was. She knew, in her own case, the book only satisfied some of her curiosity; the inner itch toward sex came first, it wasn't created by what she'd seen on those glossy pages.
As a matter-of-fact, her basic honesty reminded her that no twelve-year-old boys were photographed in it; she had seen what she wanted to see. Presumably Harold had done the same, she thought, and chuckled. He could probably describe every tit and pussy and female ass in it, and had no idea of what the male partners looked like.
The only thing to do now, she concluded, was play it by ear. She wouldn't mention the sleep-fucking it he didn't.
"Golly, Aunt Susan! Where have you been? It's four o'clock in the morning! I didn't even hear the car."
She felt awfully cheerful under the circumstances, and smiled at the indignant little boy. "I walked home, honey. Now don't get excited. I fell asleep on the sofa before dinner, and I guess poor Harold just gave up on me. I don't know if he ate or not, but he was sound asleep in a chair when I came to."
She knew she shouldn't encourage his boyish jealousy, particularly in view of her coming marriage-which the kids didn't know about yet. But she didn't want any more hassles that night, so she added placatingly, "Don't worry, nothing happened except I missed my dinner. And am I hungry!"
She went downstairs in nothing but her robe, telling herself she was getting more careless every day. She used to wear a bra and panties under it even when she was alone! Mike said he was hungry too, and together they raided the refrigerator, finding some cold chicken and the remains of the pie.
"Mmmmm, lemon meringue! There's only one thing tastes better than that!" Mike said.
It was an old joke, one even Susan had heard. But the boy presented it as a brand new witticism, and they laughed together. A daringly evil idea came to her mind, and she shivered with excitement. It was so gross, and yet so deliciously thrilling to think about! Slyly she said, "Don't eat your pie yet, Mike. Let me serve it to you."
He stared open-mouthed as she perched on the edge of the kitchen table and untied her robe. Her pendulous breasts quivered with her hardly suppressed lasciviousness. She scooped up a handful of pie filling and egg whites, and smeared it into her already hot pussy. Smilingly she licked off her fingers, slowly, sucking each one with seductive emphasis.
"Want some pie, honey? Help yourself."
Mike got it then. He gulped, and knelt on the linoleum between her outspread legs. He looked the situation over carefully, his eyes shining with lust. Then he began to lap the thick sweetness with his hot muscular tongue. The pie tasted great! Susan's own juices were dribbling through like a sweet syrup topping. He cleaned every shining hair on her pussy, leaving it damp. And then he worked his way right to the puffy lips of her cunt and up inside, as if the entire steamy hole was filled with the best pie in the world.
Tears came to Susan's eyes as she wriggled ecstatically down on the boy's mouth and tongue. It felt so damn good! She felt a small cum burst inside her, like a rainbow-covered bubble, and sighed deeply. Mike was such a loving little fellow! She wanted to make him as happy as he made her.
She pulled him to his feet and took his place on the cold floor. Her robe trailed around her as she knelt and took his limp white prick in her hands. It wouldn't be limp for long! She tongued it and kissed it, feeling the gradual stiffening as the Organ responded fatly. She sucked up his immature balls, one at a time, and bathed them in her warm saliva. Returning her attention to his cock, she saw it had quite a respectable hard-on. She sucked it in her mouth and slurped happily, as the wrinkled tip hit the back of her throat.
Mike had his hands on her shoulders for balance, and his legs spread wide. His head was thrown back so the cords in his neck stood out. Rolling her eyes up at him, Susan thought he was the cutest little boy she'd ever seen. Realizing he was her very own nephew made her so proud!
Why hadn't she looked at it that way before? No matter what anyone said, incest couldn't be bad-when it was gentle and kind and loving like this. She could understand how it could be bad in some circumstances. Say, a father took advantage of his daughters, and they didn't have any choice in the matter. That must be the type of incest everyone was against, and so was she.
But sucking this dear boy's prick, squeezing his balls and putting a finger up his rectum-as she was just that minute doing-that did nothing but good! It was pleasure for both of them, and it taught the boy something about sex. Taught him better than some little snip of a selfish girl would do, or a paid whore either.
She sucked harder as all these thoughts flashed through her mind. The tip of her tongue wriggled smoothly under the wrinkled foreskin, hotly tickling the naked gland. Her middle finger plunged in and out of his small asshole, while with her other hand she managed to tickle his balls.
"Oh, shit, Aunt Susan! Gollleeeee! You are absolutely the greatest, most super woman who ever lived."
Her tongue whipped wildly under and around his prick, making it swell larger and grew noticeably warmer.
"Woowwweee! It feels so great!"
It wasn't long before Mike felt the hot pooling in his testicles and the sperm sizzling the length of his cock to burst forth in his aunt's mouth. She was filled with joy at the taste of his boyish cum, and swallowed frantically to take it all down her throat. She lapped and sucked until the flattened organ was shiny clean, and at the same time felt her orgasm overtake her swiftly.
Would Harold ever give her thrills like this? She doubted it. Fucking a sleeping woman was more his style!
As they went upstairs arm in arm to cuddle in her double bed, she mentally rehearsed the arguments she used on herself. She remembered a story she hadn't thought of in years. Her late and not-very-lamented husband had been raised in as strict an atmosphere as had Susan. He'd joined the Navy at eighteen mostly to get away from his family, who still treated him like a child. And he'd been first shocked then intrigued by the tales he heard from older, more experienced sailors. Some of the fellows had taken him one night to get laid for the first time, in a house of prostitution.
The incident was still so vivid in Clarence's mind that he broke the taboo against sex talk, to tell it to his wife. He was in Chicago, at the Great Lakes Naval Station; this was during World War Two. The house they took him to was down some dark odorous alley, and the building looked as if it belonged there. Clarence had been shy, but the other fellows ribbed him so much he knew he had to go through with it.
The girl was young but tough. She had a scar across one side of her face, and some of her teeth were missing. She took him to a bare little cell of a room with an iron, bedstead and a wash basin. Carelessly shrugging her robe off, she ordered him to wash "his privates" with the soap supplied.
At this point, Susan remembered, she broke in with a delicate question. "Did you, uh, think you could do it?"
Her husband flushed. "Yeah, I was just a kid, you know. The idea of getting some was stronger than the disgust...."
The whore climbed on the bed while he shyly dried himself, then gestured him over. "C'mon, c'mon, we ain't got all night."
Clarence indicated that it didn't take him long, but even that was too much for the girl. She kept hustling him along, saying she had five other Johns waiting for her. On the way out he stopped in the toilet to take a nervous pee. It too was filthy, with toilets that hadn't flushed in days.
To top it all off, once out on the sidewalk he discovered his wallet was missing. He'd lost twenty dollars, which was big sum to him then. The other sailors convinced him there was no use returning to look for it, that he'd probably get beaten up by the pimps.
"Maybe Ma and Pa were right about sex," he concluded. "Anything you have to do in places like that must be downright dirty."
Clarence certainly acted as if it were dirty. They never undressed in front of each other, but took turns in the bathroom. When he wanted to get a lay, he'd fumble for her in the dark and raise her nightgown to the waist. His big already-hard cock plunged into her roughly for a few moments. Since Susan never had an advance warning, she was always dry and unready. She hadn't been so heavy in those days, she remembered. In fact she'd been rather pretty. That made no difference to her husband, nor did the fact that she lay rigid with pain while he ploughed her tight dry furrow. If she had enjoyed it, he'd have been shocked.
It was only recently that she began to see the error in his reasoning. It wasn't only dirty people in dirty places who had sex. It was like eating: some ate beans and some ate steak. Her poor dead Clarence would have been a different person if someone, an older woman-for instance, even his mother-took the time and trouble to initiate the boy properly. He might have seen that sex could be beautiful, glorious! And he might have been able to infect his wife with the same feeling. God, it was really sick to think what she'd missed all these years!
Mike was asleep already, trustfully hanging on to one tit, so she tried to stifle her giggles at what she'd just said to herself. Clarence's mother! Teaching her son how great sex is! Old Vinegar Face as she'd always called her privately!
In spite of the moment of merriment, Susan was depressed. Remembering Clarence, which she tried never to do, only reminded her that Harold was of the same non-liberated generation, and the same prudish background. What did she have to look forward to in marriage but more of the same!
He's really afraid of women, she thought, or he wouldn't have balled me while I was sleeping. Shit, that's pathetic in a man his age! I don't even want his ugly old-man cock up my pussy. I don't want it at all!
Harold lay awake."
Damn, but she's a lot of woman! I can hardly wait to get my hands on all that juicy female flesh! I'll have to go easy at first, of course. Just because she's curious about sex doesn't mean she's ready to try anything new. Anyhow I'll TR Y to go easy, but as randy as I've been lately, who knows?
He turned his pillow over and punched it into a more comfortable shape. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her mounds of pink-and-white flesh, her ample boobs and hips and ass. Her cunt wasn't exactly virginal, but he had the meat to stuff it tight and full! He wondered what she thought, if she realized what happened. He couldn't remember if she had her pants on again before he went to sleep. Had he wrestled them up over her thighs or not? You'd think he could remember a detail like that, but he'd been so intoxicated with her body, he wasn't sure of anything. He finally decided it was very simple.
If she had her pants on, she'd never guess she'd been screwed.
If she didn't have her pants on, she still wouldn't be sure, would she? If he said nothing, she'd put it out of her mind and never know how he'd cheated her.
Only one more thing bothered him. Why had she said BOY and DARLING LITTLE PRICK? Why?
CHAPTER NINE
"... sorry, I'm so sorry...." Harold babbled on, but Susan was dizzy with relief. A big smile wanted to break across her face but she knew that was inappropriate and would look strange at the least.
"It's really all right, dear. We're mature people, after all. There's just one thing. If we have to honeymoon here at home, I want it to be in my own house, not yours. I'll get settled in later, but for right now-"
He agreed quickly. He'd been so afraid she'd want to postpone the wedding, he'd have agreed to almost any terms. For at least a year, Harold had been angling for business from the largest company in town. They'd always sent their printing to the city, and he hoped to prove he could do it better and cheaper in his own shop. So at last, fate being what it is, they'd given him a big order, a rush order, which had to be done the very week of his honeymoon. It meant so much to their future security, he told Susan solemnly, that he really couldn't turn it down-or leave it to an inexperienced assistant, either.
The last thing Susan wanted was a whole week alone with Harold. If they were to be married, let them get it over with, she figured. Everyone in town knew about it, and there was no way she could weasel out. Public opinion meant too much to her. But a honeymoon at home, now, was a whole different ball game. Harold working late at the print shop, herself at home with her young lovers ... What an ideal marriage that would be!
The big day itself passed in an unreal haze. The Library Board gave them a quickly organized reception. Susan's floor-length blue wedding dress made her look slim and pretty. Harold was proud of his bride, and the champagne flowed like water.
Mike and his friend Tim hung around the fringes, much subdued. Tim's mother had invited Mike to spend the week with them, so the newlyweds could have privacy. Everything happened so fast, with Harold pushing her, Susan hardly had time to think.
She was so full of champagne, she almost forgot her smoldering resentment. It wasn't until she walked in her own front room and almost stumbled over her new husband's suitcases that reality overtook her.
She was alone with Harold, and he had a license to do whatever he wanted to her.
She took her new nightie to the bathroom and struggled alone with the zipper of her dress. She was so damn horny she didn't know how she'd get through the night. If only she could be herself!
She needed cock to suck, and cock to fuck. She needed the hard young bodies of her innocent boys pressing up to her, kissing and licking her titties, running their hands over the aching lump of her clit, reaming out her asshole, probing the depths of her steamy cunt, making her cum again and again and again. Instead, she had middle-aged puritan Harold. It would be too humiliating to let him see how she really felt. Humiliating for both of them, naturally, because he'd not only despise her for her unladylike yearnings, he would also feel inadequate in not being able to satisfy his bride. She really had a deep fondness for him, or she couldn't have gone with him all these years. Why did life and sex have to be so difficult, she wondered mournfully.
While she crawled under the sheets, her bridegroom took a fast shower and shaved, and put on his new honeymoon pajamas. He was as nervous and scared as she was. After all those horny days and nights, times when his swollen cock would give him no peace, driving him to whores among other things, he was afraid he couldn't get it up for Susan! Had his newly found potency deserted him already? If so, it made a mockery of all his plans for the rest of his life! He put the toilet lid down and sat on it, looking down at the fat limp white slug between his legs. His pajama pants puddled around his ankles. The toilet lid was cold and hard. He yanked at his uncooperative flesh, trying to get an erection. Damnit, he was trying too hard! Leaning back against the chilly white porcelain, Harold closed his eyes and dreamed. He'd been just as flaccid with the whore whose name he'd never known, and she'd sucked up his meat as if she wanted to swallow it whole. And it had worked, by God, it had worked! He'd gotten a hard-on that made her gulp and blink her pretty blue eyes!
She'd said ... what was it she'd said? Something about the size of his dick. She'd admired it, loved it! And then she climbed on top of him and slid her pussy down the flagpole, and her cunt was so tight and hot, he'd never forget it. He still didn't know how the hell she managed to clamp down her insides until it felt like a velvet vise, but she'd been a snapper, all right!
Harold dreamily pumped his fist up and down, hardly noticing that his fantasies finally brought him an erection. He even forgot that his bride was waiting for him, until he was close to cumming. God! He leaped up, kicked his pajama pants out of the way. Here was the hard-on, in there was the waiting, willing pussy. He had to get them together right now!
Susan couldn't imagine what was taking him so long in the bathroom. She lay rigidly waiting, anxious to get it over with. Her pussy was steaming hot but she didn't give in to the temptation of masturbating. He might open the bathroom door any minute and catch her at it. She wanted desperately to put her fingers down between her fat furry lips, to finger her swollen damp clit, and shove her fingers up her hungry wet cunt. But she didn't. He would be shocked, and she'd be ashamed.
Old man's cock or not, she wished he'd put it in!
Harold snapped out the bathroom light and padded across the room. He could hear her hoarse breathing. He pulled the sheet up over both of them, and reached out for her capacious bosom. She didn't say a word, just lay quietly while he fingered her tits through her nightie. His erection was becoming damn uncomfortable and he realized he'd waited almost too long.
He heaved his body over hers, supporting himself on his hands. Something kept him from resting his body on hers so inches of air separated the two, except at the groin. His enormous pulsing rod bobbled around and came to rest at the entrance to her womb. He found the right spot, his cock was drawn to its magnetic warmth. She was wet and slippery, as he'd hoped! Lunging forward, he made the connection. His hips bucked furiously as he began to fuck into her. Why didn't she move, or say something, at least wiggle her fat ass! It was as if the only thing alive about her was that grasping avid pussy.
Susan's insides were melting as she felt the hardness of him slamming into her. She moaned softly in the back of her throat, then clamped her lips down on the telltale sound. She was determined not to respond to him. Her reasons were so mixed, she couldn't sort them out. She was convinced he would lose all respect for her, once he knew what a horny bitch she really was. More, the knowledge would somehow give him power over her. It was a question of keeping her own integrity, she thought.
Besides, he'd more or less forced her into this marriage and she still resented it. It was either/or, neither alternative being very nice. Nobody in town was going to believe she'd turned him down, so she'd look like a woman deserted after seven years. The gossips would want to know why ... too many eyes would be turned in her direction. Marriage would protect her reputation. But why couldn't they have gone on as they were?
She kept her body rigid, arms at her side, legs spread wide but slack. It took all her willpower to keep her that way, and she knew she was weakening rapidly. The ecstatic sighs kept bursting into her throat, where she swallowed them painfully. Her buttocks twitched, wanting to beat back up at him. She couldn't keep it up much longer!
Between the champagne and his limp wife, Harold was having a difficult time of it. He'd jerked off for too long a time, and the affect of her fiery pussy was stupendous. He wanted to wait, coax her along and make her excited. The evidence of her oozing pussy told him it was possible. But damn it, he couldn't wait! His nuts were ready to burst. With a despairing groan, he let it all go. The steaming jism shot out of his cock in an orgasmic frenzy, bathing the inside of her vagina with its sticky wetness.
Had Harold but known it, his wife's flood of sexuality was even then breaking down the dam of resistance. With disbelief, she felt her insides drenched with sperm. "Oh, no!" she cried, her face twisted with disappointment. "Oh, no!"
But it was Oh, yes for Harold; he couldn't help himself. His heart pounding heavily, he rolled off her and onto his back. Moments later she knew by his breathing that he was asleep.
This was what she'd expected, but being proved right didn't necessarily make her happy. The bitter woman lay gasping for a long time, hating the heavy unconcerned body next to her. This was what she could expect for the rest of her life! She was trapped again, as she had been in her first marriage. But there was a difference. Before it had been a rather unpleasant duty which lasted five minutes, maybe twice a week. In between she never thought about sex. She'd been luckier than she knew.
Now her awakened body kept her constantly aware of what she was missing. She didn't know what caused this arousal in her forty-fifth year of life, unless it was menopausal, some kind of hormone imbalance. It might even be something she should go to the doctor about, a kind of sickness. Or maybe it was her body telling her mind that there weren't too many years left, she didn't know. Whatever, the condition existed and her life alternated between ecstatic joy and miserable frustration. Deep in her heart, she'd had hopes of marriage. It seemed to be the answer for most people, helping keep their raw sex urges under control. That it wasn't going to work for Susan was dismally obvious the first night.
She rolled herself out of bed, careful not to wake her new husband. She simply couldn't go to sleep without some relief! She thought longingly of Mike and Tim, and wondered if they were thinking of her. A whole week of this, damnit!
With the bathroom door locked, she stripped off her nightie and got in the tub. A short length of hose with showerhead attached lay alongside, and she fastened it to the faucet. This was what she usually used to wash and rinse her hair, preferring it to the shower. Now she adjusted the water temperature to a tepid warmth. Lolling back in the tub, she directed the fine spray between her legs. The gush of water might put out the fire which burned inside her creaming pussy.
To her happy surprise, it did more than that. The spray was like a hundred tiny fingers, stroking and titillating her hot vagina. Her big hips squirming with pleasure, she brought the showerhead closer. Tingling thrills ran through her as the increased pressure agitated her clit and sensitive vulva.
"Oooooooooh," she squealed. "Ahhhhhhhh!"
Her cum was as satisfying, or more so, than she was usually able to reach with her fingers. She hadn't even needed to fantasize a dream lover, but maybe that was because she was already so hot. Harold had brought her almost all the way to climax, before he took his balls and bat and went home.
Just about the time Susan pulled the sheets up and went to sleep, her bridegroom woke up. He'd been vaguely aware of the sound of water running, and associated it in his dreams with his first wife. She used to spend hours in the bathroom after intercourse-douching, she said. But it was a lie, and somehow the splashing of water into a tub penetrated his dreams and made him feel cheated.
What she'd really been doing-not his wife, the other one, he thought hazily, was jerking herself off, masturbating. She let the faucets splash in the tub and run out the drain so the noise would cover the buzzing hum of her vibrator.
One time she neglected to lock the door, and it sprang open a trifle. Harold couldn't help but peek, not only out of curiosity, but because the thought of watching her douche aroused his lust. He only meant to peek a while, and see if the sight was as erotic as he imagined. It was erotic all right, but not in the way he'd thought.
There lay his pretty wife Patty on the bath mat, her feet in the air, her hands guiding the vibrator up and down her wet slit. He could see the glazed look in her eyes, and the blissful smile she wore. And even as he watched, she put the tiny machine in a different position. Her fingertips were stroking her erect clit, while the vibrator on the back of her hand, set up its continuous rapid movement.
Later she told him defiantly that it was the only way she could cum, and begged him to use it on her before they fucked. He refused. Two weeks later she ran off with the paper salesman, and he never saw her again.
His mind tripped on. Had he been right or wrong? The champagne still circulating in his veins made him see life with greater clarity. He'd been wrong, of course. If he'd gone along with it, and now it didn't seem nearly as perverse, he'd have had a contented wife all these years. What harm would it have done, after all. It might have been fun, even, and she could have used it to arouse him when his body refused to obey his mind. He supposed it might bring a man an erection as easily as it gave a woman a climax.
He knew it was absurd, but he stumbled his way to the bathroom in the dark. Turning on the light and locking the door, he searched the medicine cabinet and towel cupboard. He'd seen Susan silhouetted in the light, she'd had nothing in her hands. If she had the small appliance, it would have been in the bathroom. He found the rest of his pajamas, but no vibrator.
That was one worry off his mind, but there were others. He didn't know if he'd just failed Susan, or if she'd failed him. He knew he was drunk, and that he'd waited almost too long to stick it in her. So maybe it was his fault she didn't cum. On the other hand, damnit, she hadn't made the least effort! She lay there like a huge lump of suet; he might as well have been masturbating as making love to a live woman.
It was a puzzle. The evidence of her excitement was unmistakable. Her cunt was very warm. His erection was lubricated as never before-she fairly swam with pussyjuices. She could have taken on a regiment, he thought coarsely. Then why did she lie there like a dummy?
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. She did it deliberately! But then he softened, thinking no woman would be like that on purpose. Maybe she suffered as he did, from an excess of puritan upbringing. It would take time to bring her out of it. And there he was, with a hard-on again and she was definitely asleep this time. What a rotten sense of timing he had!
Harold closed his eyes and rubbed his cock, and made himself a fantasy partner to go with his jerk off. She looked remarkably like the nameless whore who'd been worth every penny he spent on her. She must have liked him better than average, because she loved his cock. Suppose the poor girl couldn't stand it any longer, and tracked him down to the printing office....
"Gee, Harold, can't I see you alone a minute? Please!"
His eyes sweeping hotly over her skimpy clothing and full body, he ushered her into his private office and locked the door. Once inside, she gave way and let him know the truth. Rubbing herself up against him, she confessed how she'd missed him. "If I could just hold your cock for a few minutes ... give you a blow-job ... fuck you good ... I'll do all the work. You don't need to pay me this time!"
While she talked and rubbed her almost naked boobs on him. her hands were busy with his belt and zipper. His pants fell around his knees-no, shit, they disappeared. This was a dream, wasn't it? Who needed mechanical details! Anyhow, there was his fat nine-inch rod, arching out proudly, the head bulging and purplish-red.
The girl dropped to her knees and nuzzled it frantically. Her fingers skinned back the foreskin, exposing the bulbous scarlet glans. A drop of semen glistened in the little eye, and her tongue swept over it greedily.
She raised her head a minute and said, "Ummmmm! It tastes so good!" Then with a noisy slurp, she took it all in her mouth. The hot wet pressure excited Harold almost beyond endurance. He didn't want to make a lot of noise and wake Susan, and the sweat stood out on his forehead from his effort at control. He could see the exciting young woman kneeling in front of him, and at the same time he was aware of the reality of Susan's bulk beside him in the bed.
He pumped his hips hard while her talented tongue curled around the shaft, titillated the sensitive underside and then zeroed in on the tip, shoving the wrinkled foreskin down and boring heavily hotly on the little eye.
The tingling sensation in his cockhead spread back to his balls and forward again. Too late he fumbled for Kleenex in the usual place on the bedside table-he wasn't in his own bed, there was no Kleenex. He pulled off his pajama pants and wadded them into a ball. He tried to mop up the sheets but realized he'd have to sleep in the damp spot. He wiped himself off as good as he could before he straightened the pants out and put them on again. Hell, he'd be asleep so soon it wouldn't matter. And likely Susan wouldn't know the difference.
As he drifted off to sleep, Susan shifted her hips and turned on her side. Her beautiful dream was reaching its climax, as Mike shoved his cock harder into her asshole, and Tim lapped hungrily at her creaming pussy....
CHAPTER TEN
The faded, low-slung jeans fit so tightly the seams were stretched, and every inch of the boy's genitals was clearly out-lined. Susan's hands trembled and she had trouble counting out the proper change. Funny she'd never noticed before how very attractive the paper boy was.
"How old are you, Francis?"
He gave her a funny look. "Thirteen, ma'am. Why?"
"Oh, I just wondered. My nephew is here for the summer ... he's twelve." The way he stared so boldly, she wondered if she should have worn a heavier robe. But this after all was her honeymoon, ludicrous as that was, and she didn't think her new robe was too revealing. Francis certainly had piercing eyes! Wouldn't it be interesting if he were a friend of Tim's and ... oh, well, she mustn't be greedy.
She poured a second cup of coffee and took it to the telephone. Harold left without wakening her this morning, and she knew he'd be very busy all day. Her hands still shook a little as she dialed.
"Is Tim there ... well, is this his mother? Yes, I'm Mike's aunt. We certainly must meet some day, it's so nice of you to have him this week ... Could I talk to Mike, please? ... Oh! They are? ... They are. Yes, I suppose so. Would you ask him to call me, please?"
Shit! Fuck! Hell and damnation! Here she had the whole day free, too. She deserved a treat after putting up with Harold last night. That weird bastard! First he fucks without a word or a bit of foreplay, then he jerks off without a word after I'm asleep! The sheets were a horrible mess! His jism doesn't even smell good, not like Mike's and Tim's. What a goddamn freak I've married.
Tim's mother must be a jerk, too, and what's more, Susan didn't believe a word the stupid woman said. Sarcastically mimicking, she said, "So they're out on their bikes, are they? Riding up and down in front of Janey's house! Yeah, boys are like that! What the hell does that dumb cunt know about boys?"
Looking at herself in the full-length mirror, she saw that the pale green negligee was much sheerer than she'd thought. Her tits were plainly out-lined and the shadow of her pubis was visible. Oh, well, what the hell! He was an awfully cute boy. Tim might bring him over some day and they could introduce him into their fuck fun. The way he wore his pants so tight, she figured he must be ready for it. She let herself go in a daydream, where she was the center of attention from three little boys....
by the time the doorbell rang she was squirming with lust. Tim and Mike looked at her with shining boyish faces. "We thought we shouldn't just walk in," Tim explained. "Mom said you phoned."
Her eyes crawled all over them, but concentrating mainly on the parts she liked best. "Come in, boys," she purred, and followed their taut flat asses into the living room. "Harold won't be home all day, isn't that great? I thought we could have some fun."
The boys looked at each other. "Sure, Aunt Susan," Mike said politely. "Gosh, what are we gonna do? Can we fuck for a while?"
"My mom's taking us to the lake this afternoon," Tim said, and hesitated. "Anyhow, um, Aunt Susan ... does it make any difference? I mean, you're being married and all....
"Difference?"
"I don't know much about it but ... isn't that kinda like cheating? I mean ... oh shit! We learned in Sunday school about adultery. Know what that is? Golly, I wouldn't want to do anything like that."
Susan was furious but tried not to let it show. "I certainly wouldn't want you to do anything you don't think is right," she said coldly.
The youngster blushed. "Please don't be mad at me. You know I wanna fuck and suck and everything...."
"If your little girl friend leaves you the time."
"Never mind him, Aunt Susan! I'm here! I wanna love you up and kiss your titties and everything!"
by now she was frantic with lust but she couldn't let Tim get away with his moralistic attitude. "Then if your friend will just run along," she said haughtily, "his little girl friend is probably waiting for him, anyway. I hope you have the decency to keep your mouth shut, Timothy. And not be a tattletale. Anyhow, we can get along without you."
"Aw, gee, Aunt Susan! I don't wanna go. I wanna stay here with you. After all, I'm just a kid. I don't know what's right and wrong like you do," he added ingenuously. "You're sure looking pretty today. That green bathrobe, or whatever you call it, is real pretty too."
She couldn't help but soften toward him, but she had to be sure. "It's up to you, Tim, make your own decision."
by now the boy's eyes were glued to her big tits. All he cared about was getting his hands and mouth on them. "Please, please! I didn't mean it, honest! Let me stay!"
"Very well, if you're sure. Let's go to the bedroom, in that case."
In her hurry to make herself beautiful for the boys, Susan forgot to change the messy sheets. The covers and top sheet were flung back, plainly revealing the telltale stains on the bottom sheet. She saw the boys notice this and pointedly look away. Oh well, what the hell. She couldn't do anything about it at the moment her lust was almost choking her. She sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Well, are you two going to get undressed or just stand there gawking?"
There was another advantage, she discovered, to having child-lovers. They accepted things as an adult wouldn't. She supposed they thought all grown-ups were a little crazy, anyhow. They wouldn't question anything she did. Besides, they were so in the habit of obedience, and she really liked that!
Two pairs of faded jeans tumbled to the floor. T-shirts and Jockey shorts followed. And there they were, the smooth little cocks and soft balls she craved! Her mouth watered and her pussy filled with heat. "Come here, Mikey, and give Aunt Susan a great big kiss."
The boy put his arms around her. She cupped his ass in her hands and pulled him into the cleft of her legs. While Mike nuzzled her neck, she stuck her tongue in his ear and bit gently at the lobe. Mike, feeling very bold, first kissed her throat moistly and then bit it gently. She could feel his erection beginning, pressed against her as he was.
"Me too," Tim said jealously. Somehow he also wedged his slim body inside the broad vee of her legs. Perching on her knee, he lifted a fat boob in both hands. His mouth seized on the tit and sucked noisily.
All worries were forgotten as the two boys pushed her back on the bed and clambered up beside her. The horrible night was as if it had never happened and this was like all her dreams come true. With a blissful smile on her face, she leaned back on the .pillows, her plump legs sprawled wide, her pearly flesh gleaming. Both the little fellows were suntanned, and she loved the contrast between their hard little brown bodies and her own opulent whiteness. Tim cuddled one plump bouncing breast in his hands, his teeth gently fastened on an erect rosy-brown tit. Her handsome nephew fastened on the other, greedily sucking, his one hand making little curls in her protuberant bush.
Now that she had them with her, she wasn't in such a hurry. The long lovely day stretched ahead of her. How would they get out of picnicking? She didn't know but was sure she'd think of something. She was not only jealous of the unknown Janey, the girl she imagined with a slim budding body and long floating hair, but of Tim's mother. The woman thought she had first call on her son's time, but Susan felt differently. The boys were an obsession with her now, and she had to continually warn herself to be cautious.
"What do you want to do first?" she asked.
"Fuck!" Tim answered promptly.
"Suck!" Mike put in a second later.
"All right, boys," she laughed. "Let's see, Mike, you want me to suck you off, right? You get over my head, honey, and I'll do you while Tim screws me, okay?"
They were agreeable and quickly got into position. Susan put a pillow under her ass, raising her mons higher, to make it easier for Tim. There was such a discrepancy in the size of their bodies, it took a bit of ingenuity to make the right contact. She hadn't really noticed the difference until the night before; and one thing she had to admit, her husband filled her cunt like the little boys were unable to do.
Mike squatted over her face, lowering his skinny hips onto her open mouth. His plump cock was nothing but a few ounces of limp flesh, but she'd soon remedy that! Her tongue snaked out and caressed it lovingly, curling around the underside and poking playfully at the wrinkled tip. Almost instantly, the responsive organ began to twitch and swell. He let his weight down on her and she mouthed his balls, first one and then the other getting the thrill of being held in her warm wet cavity.
She couldn't see Tim, of course, with Mike's thighs pressed on her closed eyelids. But she could feel the bed bounce as he scooted down by her crotch. A wet slavering told her he was kissing her and licking the puffy pink labia first. The darling! Young as these boys were, neither one would ever plunge right in the way Harold did! One day some girl, as yet unknown, would have reason to thank her for the lessons they'd learned. These two wouldn't grow up the way she and Harold did, afraid of their own bodies, filled with stupid unworkable ideas about sex and life! And that was justification enough, she thought hazily, for what she was doing.
Just as Mike's swollen organ poked at her lips, and she opened wide to take it in, Tim's stiffening rod shoved its way into her slick heated vagina. Her mouth was crammed, jammed full of tender young cock, balls and all! And while Tim's prick might have been lost in her capacious womb, he cleverly slid against her clit and poked sideways onto the wall of her cunt. It might not be a full grown man reaming out and filling her with his masculinity, it was sure as hell better than her own fingers! And better than the loveless insensitive approach of her bridegroom.
Too bad ... too bad ... her mind, seeming to work independently of her body, thought sadly of what might have been. She was helping out the next generation, but who would help her? She heaved and panted, moving her ass in small circles, frantically tonguing and sucking, and wished she'd been taught the way she was teaching them. Better yet, if some grown woman had taken Harold in tow at an impressionable age, what a lover he might have been! She still hadn't seen his genitals, but after last night she could easily imagine their size and power. Why did he have to grow up as repressed and frustrated as she did! If there was a stranger marriage than hers, she'd like to hear about it! But it wasn't her fault, she knew, not her fault at all!
It's not my fault, Harold said to himself grimly. The whole thing was ridiculous! All these years he'd been dating Susan, with both of them perfectly content-when they could have been doing all the exciting sexy things he now wanted to do. And it wasn't his fault that she passed out on Brandy Alexanders, or that he got a bit too much champagne at the wedding reception. Nor could he blame himself for the sudden rush of business which ruined his honeymoon. What he should have done, he saw now, was to postpone the wedding until he could devote his time to his bride.
On the other hand, with his embarrassing new capacity for erection and orgasm, he might have gotten into real trouble ... and lost Susan forever! So he pushed her into the marriage, only in order to save himself....
At least the business was going well. The big order he had to get out was already in the works. A retired printer he knew had come in to help him, and everything was under control, between the older man and the young assistant. In fact, he wasn't really needed here for the next few hours. He pictured Susan sitting home alone, probably as frustrated as he was. She wouldn't want to go out anywhere, and be teased about checking up on the library or grocery shopping on her honeymoon. Maybe if he went home right now, in the middle of the day, when there weren't any other distractions ... just maybe, he might be able to convince his bride that things weren't the way they seemed. He couldn't believe she was really frigid, just scared.
He stopped at the florist's for a big bunch of roses, and let himself quietly into the house. He'd surprise her in whatever she was doing. She wasn't downstairs ... maybe she was up there making the bed, or puttering around. Maybe even unpacking his suitcases, which he hadn't even opened.
He walked up quietly on the side of the treads so the squeaking stairway wouldn't spoil the surprise. He stopped in the hall, puzzled. Could that be voices coming from her bedroom? Tiptoeing to the door, he stopped dead. He felt as if he'd been struck by lightning and was unable to move.
A young voice squealed, "Oh! Golleee, Aunt Susan, that was great! You sure do know how to blow a guy!"
"Ooommmph!" Harold's wife was in the throes of orgasm and unable to answer. A boy he'd seen before but didn't know was crouched between her heaving thighs, watching her face intently, a gleeful smile on his face. His hips bucked forward and back slowly. It was obvious he'd just cum himself, and was enjoying the sight of her orgasm. Mike, the nephew Harold hadn't paid any attention to, was sitting at the head of the bed, leaning back in a satisfied manner. One hand squeezed his aunt's full-blown tit while she bucked and huffed and mewled. Susan's big body-his bride, he thought bitterly-subsided slowly, as the child who'd been fucking her withdrew.
It was unbelievable, and Harold didn't believe it. Nonetheless, something happened to his spine and legs. He slowly slid down the doorframe, his knees buckling under him, until he was sitting in the doorway, the roses still clutched in his hand. Bile rose in his throat as he looked upward at the bed and heard the childish voices prattling on...." the most, no kidding! Hey, Aunt Susan, Tim and I want to ask you something ... none of our business...."
Blood rose in his eyes and ears and he went blind and deaf. Gradually his head cleared and he heard Susan's calm voice talking on and on.
She was telling the boys about their most intimate moments and somehow that hurt worse than seeing her fucking around with two little kids. He wanted to kill them all, but he just wasn't the type. And besides, he discovered, he wanted to hear what she had to say...." rubbed his pecker all over my face ... fucked me while I was asleep....."
Mike's voice broke in. "Yeah, sure." He sounded skeptical. "But you both slept in this bed last night, and we see jism marks all over it! So how come you're so horny today?"
Mike chimed in. "Yeah, Aunt Susan, are all grown-up ladies like you? How 'bout my mom?"
If she refused to answer their questions, Susan saw, they'd grow up with some very strange ideas. She felt guilty, talking about Harold like this. Yet she owed it to the boys to undo any damage she'd done. Picking her words carefully, so as not to be any more insulting to her husband than necessary, she gave the kids her version of the previous night.
"Harold doesn't really like sex," she concluded. 'That's because no woman taught him about it when he was young enough, the way I'm teaching you. And that's why you have to keep our little secret, you understand? Society hasn't changed that much. People were mostly brought up the way Harold and I were, and nobody would understand."
"He doesn't like sex?"
"If he did, we'd have been fucking seven years ago."
"But what about you? You say you haven't had any in all those years, either."
She was stumped. "That's the one thing I can't explain. All the time, I thought I was happy without it, but now ... now it's different. I just don't know the answer."
At least Harold's mind was relieved about one thing. For a few minutes, he'd imagined she'd been corrupting kids all the time he'd known her. His mind whirled with the information he'd just received. So Susan thought he didn't like to fuck ... and he could even see how she'd gotten that idea. And she'd known all along what happened the evening she fell asleep in his living room ... and hadn't said a word! Not only that, she was well-aware of the fact he'd jerked off the night before. He couldn't understand her reasoning in being so cold last night, he'd have to puzzle over that one. The flowers slipped out of his grasp and he put his head in his hands. What to do now?
There was only one thing he could think of: another visit to the Cozy Corner. Not that liquor had helped him up to the present, but he needed somewhere quiet to think it all over.
Susan's voice broke into his reverie. "But why waste time talking? If you boys are going to grow up to be good husbands, you should practice fucking as much as you can!"
Harold wasn't ready for that! No way could he sit here and watch, or even hear the noises that went along with their sex play. On hands and knees, he turned and crept down the hall to the staircase. On to the Cozy Corner! A whole new life was opening up before him. He had to think seriously about it, and make sure he didn't blow this one too.
Susan held one limp dick in each hand, sharing her tongue between them. They crouched side by side, shoulders together, watching her with lewd anticipation. She hesitated, frowned, raised her head.
"What was that noise? It sounded like the front door slamming. Mike, maybe you'd better go down and make sure it's locked. Put your pants on first."
He was all the way to the doorway hall door before he looked down, surprised. "Hey, what's this?" Holding the big bouquet of roses, he turned to his aunt. "Where did these come from? They weren't here when we came up."
Flowers in the doorway. Susan paled. How long had Harold stood there? What did he hear, what did he see? Trouble had never been very far away, and now it was walking on her heels.
What was Harold going to do?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"You drunken old fool!"
"You horny bitch! Child molester!"
This wasn't going to get them anywhere, she thought wearily. They'd started out calmly enough, but all the hidden resentments had come to the surface. It seemed they had a mutual problem, but they weren't able to talk about it rationally. Or maybe the lack of communication was the real problem, and always had been. "There's no use our screaming at each other any more," she said. "You can have a divorce, anything you want. Just let me get some sleep."
He'd come home after dark, so drunk he could hardly stagger. But the booze hadn't kept him from making her face facts, as he called it. Everything had come tumbling out: his own horniness, the time with the whore, his plan to seduce her which she'd ruined by falling asleep, his midnight burglary of the library-everything. Most of all, it was his hurt pride. The longer he brooded over what he'd learned, the more it seemed as if she'd preferred two boys, barely teenagers, to himself.
And to Susan came the unpalatable knowledge that he only wanted to marry her to secure his own safety.
"I'm going to bed." She could hardly drag her body up the stairs, and expected she'd fall into a deep slumber immediately. But to her fury, she was still exactly what he'd called her: a horny bitch. No matter how she tossed and turned, her cunt was keeping her awake. She and the two boys had done everything they could think of, until the two finally left for their picnic. Even Susan hadn't thought of a good enough excuse to keep them away. Maybe that was it, the lovemaking had been cut short. But she'd cum several times, and her annoyingly creaming cunt should have been satisfied.
There was only one thing to do. She wouldn't give Harold the satisfaction of finding her masturbating in her bed. She went in the bathroom and stripped off her sweaty nightgown. The hose attachment went on the faucet, and she adjusted the water temperature. Getting it just right was difficult: too hot, and it was painful; too cold gave her the shivers. Finally she had it just right. She sprayed her fevered body all over first, and then wedged her haunches on the slippery porcelain. She was more comfortable this time, as she'd taken the cover off a sponge rubber pillow, and arranged the pillow behind her back.
The needle-like spray tingled warmly on the inside of her thighs. She spread her legs farther so the gushing water hit against her vulva and even penetrated slightly up her cunt. It massaged her clit softly, until electric vibrations shot through her and her buttocks contracted sharply.
"Oooooohhhh," she whispered. "That's so heavenly!"
It was time to close her eyes and fantasize. She remembered earlier days, when she'd imagined the young man in the photograph making love to her. Now she couldn't even remember his face. It was much better to think of her darling boys....
She remembered the first time she'd seen Mike naked. How shy he'd been, and how inexperienced! He blushed when she stroked his little penis. It was just about the width of her middle finger, she mused dreamily, until he got an erection. Even then it wasn't very big, certainly nothing compared to what Harold's must be. How fantastic, to know so much about her nephew while she'd never even seen her new husband's penis! But hell, she didn't lie down here with the water caressing her pooched-open pussy in order to think about Harold!
She started the fantasy all over again.
...Two fat cocks side by side, her tongue flicking from one to the other, until the randy organs stood upright, nuzzling the boy's stomachs. Then, two erect pricks inside her hungry mouth, soaked slick and shiny by her saliva, throbbing with blood as her tongue swirled around each pointed tip in turn.
And the same sweet dicks in her cunt at one time! Now that was something to dream over! It felt so strange, so good. And the time one boy fucked her in the ass while the other one did it in her cunt. Harold's big pecker would probably break her poor little anus wide open! Or maybe not, maybe the asshole was as elastic as the vagina, she had no idea. It would be fun to try anyway, if only she and her husband were on speaking terms. She giggled to herself. They were on fucking terms, or had been up till today! They just didn't talk.
Shit! There she was thinking about Harold again. Him she didn't have to dream about. He was right in the same house, sulking downstairs while she was masturbating in the bathroom. He was probably waiting until she'd gone to sleep so he could score again! That was just about his speed! Or maybe, for all she knew, he was back at the Cozy Corner getting liquored up again. Trying to find the nerve to come home and ball his wife.
But she was wrong. While she lay in the tub, fingering her fat wet labia and wishing she could cum, Harold sat in the kitchen with a pot of black coffee. He'd never been so confused in his life. The things he thought were perverted and depraved, according to his bride were really fine and wonderful. Whereas a simple ordinary occurrence such as screwing your wife turned out to practically obscene! If he sobered up, maybe the whole topsy-turvy mess would make sense to him.
"Damn her anyway," he muttered. "I sure don't have any luck with women. What in the world do they want, anyway?"
When he decided he was sober enough to face her, he washed in the kitchen sink and combed back his greying hair. He climbed the stairs slowly, hoping she wasn't asleep. They desperately needed to talk without shouting to try and understand one another. He yelled a lot of stuff he didn't mean, especially the part where he said he wanted a divorce. He couldn't face the town's speculations if the sudden marriage were as quickly ended. More, he still felt a deep affection for the woman, perverted though she turned out to be.
He heard the sound of water from the bathroom, and carefully eased the door open, remembering again his first wife's curious habits with the vibrator. But Susan was in the tub, right enough. She lay back, eyes closed, with the small shower head aimed between her legs. Even as he watched, she shrugged angrily. Without opening her eyes, she reached in her crotch and began to stroke her clit. So she was masturbating, but in a quite different way! The sight of her big pale body, the pendulous breasts and fat round thighs, the drenched bush of her pussy hair, made his belly begin to burn. With an instant hard-on, he turned away and closed the door softly.
She was a sex pot, all right-for herself, for the boys, for anybody but her husband. Anybody could get in her pants, he thought bitterly, but her old man! And did she ever have a lot to give-to anybody else! It made him so angry, he got up and kicked the bedpost. And immediately, of course, was hopping on one foot, muttering curses, wondering if he'd broken a toe!
Susan heard the noises. Damn, she couldn't get off anyway, and there was old clumsy Harold, probably waiting to spy on her. Hastily she closed the bathtub drain and unhooked the hose. So she was taking a bath instead of a shower, what could he say about that?
"I'm going to try one more time," the angry man told himself, and then I give up. Gossip or no gossip, if I can't fuck her I can't live with her."
He went in the bathroom quite openly.
"Hi, honey." He yawned and scratched and began to unbutton his shirt. "Hope you don't mind. I'm getting ready for bed, and I've got to pee."
He undressed leisurely, tossing his soiled clothes in the hamper. When he was quite naked, he raised the toilet seat and aimed his cock. A thick yellow stream splashed into the bowl.
Susan watched all this open-mouthed, the soap in one hand. She'd been in the middle of washing and one of her fat boobs was covered with lather. After all this time, she was about to see Harold naked? Evidently so. She couldn't decide whether to be angry or not. Besides, she wanted to see what he looked like.
He wasn't too bad, at that. His shoulders were good, and the little pouch in his belly didn't bother her at all. Look at her own sagging abdomen, if it came to that! His body was smooth and hairless except for the dark line of hair down the middle of his stomach. Mesmerized, her eyes followed it to his thickly -haired crotch. Wow, he did have a big one! The balls dangling behind were covered with wiry hair. The penis itself looked long and strong, not milk-white like the boys' but sort of skin-colored, until it turned reddish brown near the tip. It hung from his thatch like an elephant's trunk, she thought, and was filled with an insane desire to giggle.
When he urinated into the bowl, her mouth began to salivate. There was something about the dark yellow stream and the odor from it which turned her on. She rubbed wet thighs together, feeling a sharp pang as her juices began to flow.
"Make yourself at home," she said sardonically, to cover up her confusion.
"Thanks, I will." He shook his cock to get the remaining drops off the end of it.
Then he turned to face her directly. In a childish voice, he said "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."
They both began to laugh and were unable to stop. Shaking her mounds of fat while the water roiled around her. she whooped and hollered until tears came to her eyes. "Are we really as ridiculous as I think we are, Harold?" she asked finally.
"Maybe I'm the one who's ridiculous."
"Oh, Harold!" She held out her wet soapy arms to him. "We can do better than this if we try!"
He didn't know if she was being dramatic, or if her arm gesture was an invitation. Deciding to take it as the latter, he climbed into the tub. With water sloshing around them, he took her in his arms. "I really do love you, Susan."
Love or no love, she was getting hot and she'd seen his cock begin to get hard. "Can you prove it to me? Now?" she asked, impishly for such a big woman.
He climbed on top, weighting her so only her face was out of water. What a way to begin a marriage! Under him, she opened her legs as wide as she could. Shaking with horniness, she said, "God, Harold, is all that cock for real?"
"All for real, and all for you."
Grinning crazily, he slammed the huge instrument into her so hard that half the tub water flew to the floor. "God, what a place to fuck. That's what you want, isn't it? To get balled?"
"Yesss, oh yes! Oh, what a hunk of meat you've got! Sock it to me, sweetie, let me have it all!"
Still smiling, he rammed into her so hard her head went under for a moment. It didn't even faze Susan, who rocked back at him. Their bellies met in resounding wet smacks that sent the water slanting back and forth around them. The syrup from her flooded cunt coated his enormous organ, but even so she felt every burning inch of it. His balls slapped against her ass. She clutched his shoulders, her fingertips digging in. She wasn't even aware of the hard tub under her, or the slap-slap of the water around them.
"I want it, I want it," she husked. "Fuck me harder!"
Her obscene words sent him on more frantically, as his cock felt her warm moisture and swelled even bigger. Breathing raggedly, sweat dropped off his forehead onto her contorted face. A low steady moaning poured from her lips. A hot turmoil surged through her belly, her whole body felt alive with pleasure. Harold could see how excited she was by the glazed eyes, flushed face, parted mouth and swollen lips.
He pounded harder and then relaxed a moment while a slow, wet-lipped smile spread over her pretty face. Her hips bucked up against his. She stared without seeing, her gaze turned inward, her whole being concentrating on the fantastic thrills he was giving her.
Harold knew, however much they gave each other in the years to come, that this was the best damn fuck of his life! And in a half full bathtub, to boot! He was tiring now and he slowed, holding back his eager balls, wanting to outlast her. He waited for some sign that her climax was near.
In a faraway voice, Susan mumbled: "Oh, God, Oh, shit, Oh sweet Jess-uzz! I'm going to cum! Hang on to me, darling, I'm cumming ... I'm CUMMMIIINNNGGG! EEEEEKKK!"
He continued to fuck her slowly and gently, waiting for his own overdue climax.
"Now, now, NOW!" she chanted, as the waves of passion broke over her head and sent her mind spinning and tumbling in a vast surge of sensation.
He held her close and his own eyes shut, while his balls tightened and sent their hot load burgeoning into her creaming vagina. His sperm frothed and spilled over, running down her thighs and legs, turning the water in the tub milky and full of its acrid scent.
She moved her body carefully away from the wet white porcelain. "Shit, Harold, my back will never be the same!"
After that they had to shower, to wash off the sweat and sperm. Sudsing each other happily, they finally rinsed and dried themselves. As if by unspoken agreement, they left all discussion of their differences for the moment.
For the first time in her life, Susan crawled into bed naked alongside a naked adult man. The thought of it made her shiver and she reached for his cock. "Mind if I hold it? Not to do anything, you know just for comfort."
"Lady, it's all yours."
She sank back with a sign of contentment. Her mind was beginning to catch up with her body and she shook her head in wonder. "Marriage isn't so bad after all."
"We almost blew it."
She turned into his arms and put her face on his chest. He stroked her back and buttocks, lingering between her fat asscheeks. She shivered and snuggled closer. It was confession time, and she had to begin. "I'm an awfully horny woman, honey. I didn't used to be, but I am now. I just didn't know what to do about it."
"It didn't hurt the boys any," he said comfortably. "Every kid wants it, tries for it. They just got lucky a little sooner than most."
"Oh, Harold, you're so understanding!"
Then he told her more of his own troubles, how he'd felt so randy he was afraid of getting arrested on Main Street. He described the time he'd jerked off in the car, and then gone to a bar. 'That's the time I had the whore, finally."
"Poor baby." She stroked his cheek. "What'll we do now, Harold? Do you think we can control it?"
"We take care of each other," he answered promptly. "When you feel horny, I'll do my best to satisfy you. And if you want to suck cock, if you like it, well ... most of the time, I think I can keep you satisfied. If not, I'll play with you. How does that sound?"
She smiled. "I'll do the same for you. Of course, it's easier for me. But I can always try to make you hard, that'll be fun."
"The only thing which still bothers me is the boys. I wonder how they'll take the news that we're together at last."
"You'll have to help me make them understand."
She had what she wanted at last, what she really wanted. Mike and Tim would have to accept it, and they would. She lay quiet for a little while, then said, "What is it I'm supposed to do when I want to fuck? And you're not ready?"
"Try sucking it," he advised, grinning into the darkness as she put her head under the covers and found his already swelling cock.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Gosh, I don't wanna hurt her feelings," Mike said. His young face was troubled.
"You don't need to, dummy! Aunt Susan will understand, and between us we can make both of them happy."
Mike wisely thought it wasn't as easy to please a woman as his buddy said it was. He did love Aunt Susan, and she'd done a lot for them. Janey said so too. She'd noticed something different about them, she said. They weren't little boys any more. That was the reason she was willing to play fuck games with them, she said.
The boys couldn't help but notice a difference between the overweight Susan and the slim, young fifteen-year-old girl. And in their eyes, the difference was all in Janey's favor.
Janey had kept quiet up till then, but she was growing impatient. All this mooning over a middle-aged woman! "There's only one thing to do," she said. "Let's go and talk to her, all three of us."
She was not only anxious to get it settled, so they could get on with their fun, but she was curious about Aunt Susan. She vaguely remembered the librarian as a dumpy gray-haired lady who wouldn't say "shit" if she had a mouthful of it. "Come on, let's do it now! Otherwise, my folks will be home and we won't have any place to go."
Susan and Harold were lingering over their first honeymoon breakfast. He'd already been to the shop and found that things were going on perfectly without him. He was startled when he answered the door, napkin in hand, and saw the three youngsters on the step.
"Can we come in, and talk to Aunt Susan?"
"You can talk to both of us."
The boys exchanged glances, and Harold went on, "Don't be afraid, I know all about-oops! Where is my mind?" His glance indicated discretion in front of Janey.
"She knows, too." The boys were greatly relieved to see that Harold wasn't angry. "Janey is-she knows all about it."
"Let's not talk about it in the doorway. Come on in."
Susan discovered she was chagrined and faintly jealous, even if she had no right to be. But she stifled the resentment, knowing she'd done the same to the boys as they to her. She studied the girl's rather plain face and rather voluptuous body. "I hope you know how secret all this has to be, Janey. You have all our lives in your hands."
The girl smiled. "Don't worry, ma'am. My pa would literally kill me if it ever got out. And I couldn't give you away without telling on myself, could I?"
The older couple decided she could be trusted, and the whole problem was being solved very simply. Susan eyed "her boys" and said, "It's all for the best, I guess. I shouldn't say this, but I guess I have to. There's going to be times when I miss you two. Harold, you understand, I hope."
Harold was in fine fettle. A daring thought had come to his mind, and he wondered if he had the nerve to say it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? And he felt fairly confident. The girl was eyeing him with curiosity, and then looking at Susan. She was wondering, he guessed, what he'd done to give his bride that beautiful glow, and make her content to surrender the two boys.
So he said it. "Some time we might all get together, eh? Do you know what I mean?"
It took Susan, Mike and Tim a few minutes to come to terms with the new idea. She was the first to say thoughtfully, "It may be what we all need. Some variety in our sex life."
"I won't be jealous-I don't think," Tim said. "After all, Mike and I have shared our women up till now!"
From words to action didn't take as long as Harold expected. After discussing the situation solemnly for a while, the five found themselves in the living room with the heavy draperies closed. Susan looked around, in bright-eyed anticipation. Her husband plainly wanted a taste of that teenaged ass, and she had no objections. Who was she to object, anyway?
She patted Mike on the ass. "We really started something, didn't we, honey?"
"Yeah!" He grinned at his beloved aunt. "If all grown-ups were like you and Harold, there wouldn't be any wars or anything. Everybody would be too busy fucking! And too happy to fight!"
