In the news recently a young mother of three children left her husband and family and ran away with a teenager because she wanted "to be free to live her own life, to be a real person."
Probably no one element of woman's life is so much a strain as motherhood, and the involved and eighteen-year struggle to "raise the kids." Traditionally this has been the woman's role, and now more and more women are protesting and rebelling from it.
But for all of this, there are a few who try desperately to work themselves into this "trap". The woman who is trying vainly to become pregnant, has an even stronger emotional problem. Is she barren? Is she not right to be a mother? Why has she been prejudged? Isn't there someone, some way that she can find help?
Even in populations like our own where too high a birth rate is becoming a problem, failure to conceive by a woman is one of the most difficult and troublesome failures in her life.
In their book Fundamentals of Human Sexuality, Drs. H. A. Katchadourian and D. T. Lunde say: "In many societies barrenness is a source of great shame and even social ostracism for a woman. Failure to conceive after a certain period of time is considered sufficient grounds for divorce among orthodox Jews, as well as in many primitive tribes. It was not unusual for a woman of the Lango tribe of East Africa to commit suicide if she failed to have children. This high premium placed on having children is especially understandable in societies with high mortality rates."
But in this country the move toward fewer babies per family, and to many couples who elect not to add to the overpopulation of the world by going childless, there has been a marked softening of the cultural stigma of barenness. Indeed many woman and couples now brag about their ability not to have children.
This is fine for those so inclined. However for the woman who wants a child, her inability leads to many problems. One which often troubles such a woman is an almost subconscious questioning of her sexuality. She often believes that she can't get pregnant because her husband really doesn't want her to because she isn't good enough for his child. This can then move in all sorts of different action-oriented behavior patterns.
The woman in this book, Leslie, has such a problem and she reacts to it in a typical way. She doesn't understand why she has a passion for young boys. She has only one real and true desire, that is to get pregnant, and the "flings" she has with the boys have nothing to do with that. At least that is her conscious rationale. But deep down in her mind there is a craving for sex to satisfy this wondering about her sexuality. Is she too ugly to be a mother? Is she not built right? Can't she excite a man into planting the seed? What is her problem?
Take this problem and complicate it with a high-pressure mother-in-law who is aching for a grandchild, a business where millions of dollars are changing hands, and a husband who is regularly having extramarital sex with his secretary, and you begin to see some of the multiple strains and tortures that are pulling at this woman.
All she wants to do is get pregnant. When a doctor gets into the act, the woman has one more complication to work her way through before she can finally, and at last come to grips with her true situation.
We think you will be sympathetic with the woman shown here who is so typical of thousands of American females who want to get pregnant but can't.
How she copes with her problem may seem to you to be wrong, illegal, immoral, and stupid, but this is the right of every individual, to live her own life and make her own mistakes. As you read this study of a sexually troubled woman, try to figure out what you would have done in her case, and then see what happens in the end.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Leslie Martin sat in the straight-backed chair in the treatment room, her spine ramrod stiff, her mouth pinched in, green eyes hooded, worried. She was afraid by the grunts and nods Dr. Lawrence made as he examined her that it would be the same old story. She had dressed quickly when he had finished the pelvic exam, and now she sat waiting for him.
She was not a large woman, about five feet, five inches, just over thirty, with a trim, compact figure that had not bloated or broadened. Her red hair, styl'jhly short in the current trend, had been styled only yesterday at a hair salon.
Leslie was so fearful that Dr. Lawrence would come back with the same results he had the other three times that she gripped her hands tightly in her lap. She looked accusingly at her crotch and frowned. It had been her fault every time before this-they knew that. But why?
The throbbing, blinding headache came again, the same one she had been experiencing for the last month which the doctor said was a simple tension problem.
She had to relax, to ease off. He'd given her some pills for the pain on her last visit, and she wished she'd brought them along. She stood and used a paper cup to get a drink from the sink, then dropped the cup in the wastebasket.
Now that was bad ecology, starkly wasteful. Paper shouldn't be used for cups and napkins and paper plates; we should use permanent materials which can be reused, glass, plastic, pottery. As she finished the thought, Dr. Lawrence came in with his customary bustle, a short syringe in his hand.
"Oh, no!" she yelped. "Not again. You mean I'm just late having my period again?"
"That's my guess, Mrs. Martin."
Dr. Lawrence was small, leathery-tanned from weekends on his sailboat, and the best gynecologist in town. She held out her arm and looked away as he pushed up the white blouse and neatly administered the shot. She hardly felt the sting.
"Now, if you're late, you should know in a few days. My guess is you're just late, but in your case that's bad news. Your nerves just gang up on your normal body processes and slow everything down."
"But I eat like a pro football player."
"Overcompensation." He smiled. "You've got to stop worrying so much." The doctor laughed watching her. Sometimes a smile and a chuckle were his best medicine. But he still couldn't figure out why this perfectly normal woman couldn't conceive. She was amazingly beautiful, with a cover-girl smile, dazzling red hair, enticing thirty-six-inch breasts and a Playboy centerfold figure.
"Mrs. Martin, you simply don't have any of the positive signs of pregnancy, none at all. But I can't detect any physical problems, which should be some small bit of good news. I don't know how to convince you to relax. I would say take a vacation, but I understand you just returned from one."
Leslie hated shots, but she hadn't even winced when the needle went into her arm. She would go through almost any struggle to have a baby of her very own. Other women did. Girls who didn't want to got pregnant with just one quick bang! She had been trying like crazy now for almost two years. It was unfair. Poor Terry was working himself down to a nub trying to do the job.
"Mrs. Martin, we've touched on this point before, but I think it's worth going over again. I said I couldn't find any physical reason why you haven't been pregnant long ago. You've been properly exposed from what you tell me at the right times. Your husband has a sperm count that is one of the highest I've ever seen, so there's no worry there."
Dr. Lawrence leaned against the examining table and watched her. "You ever play sports, Mrs. Martin? Volleyball, ping pong, tennis, even gymnastics or swimming?"
"Not really, not in competition."
"There's a sports principle here that applies. Sometimes in games, a player wants to win desperately. It can be for any reason, but soon he is trying too hard and everything goes wrong. He misses an easy shot, he can't pass or handle the ball, blowing easy fundamentals he learned in grade school. We say he's 'choking', pressing too hard, trying too hard. I think that could be your situation. Mrs. Martin, you need to forget all about having a baby. Take up a new hobby or a sport, get your mind somewhere else for a while. If you can really do that, first thing you know, you'll be in here fat as a summer heifer on new grass."
Leslie smiled.
"Dr. Lawrence, I'd give anything right now to be big and fat as a cow!"
"Then try it. Ease up, get a new routine."
"I'll try it."
"Good girl. Now get out of here and swim the English Channel or something."
She grinned and went out the door ahead of him. Leslie waved at the nurses and walked into the dry, hot Arizona shunshine. She would do something different. That art class she had wanted to try. A beginning oil class, that should do for an outside activity.
By the time she drove the Mercury Montego home, she had already decided how much she would spend on oils, brushes and exactly where she would buy them. She gave a little moan as she saw her mother-in-law's car parked in the drive. Just the wrong time for Mother Martin to come calling, damnit!
Mrs. Martha Martin sat in her air-conditioned Mercedes in front of her daughter-in-law's home. It was a nice little place, but she would be glad when they could afford a larger home. Something more in keeping ... Leslie should be home at just any time, since her doctor's appointment had been for three.
Mrs. Martin sighed. Leslie was such a pretty girl, it was a shame she couldn't have at least one child. Even the most proper ladies had one child. Without realizing it Martha polished the ring on her right hand, a large solitaire diamond of over four carats she had received on her silver anniversary. She was dreaming again, just dreaming. Something you could simply not give a person: native intelligence, good health, or pregnancy.
Martha scowled. She wasn't used to having fate push her around. Why in the world shouldn't she have one grandchild? A girl, a sweet little girl child to be a comfort for her in her middle years. Not that she felt like slowing down at fifty-three. She was just coming into her own in some of the top clubs and organizations. But she had been waiting and hoping for a grandchild for seven years. Of course, they hadn't planned to have any children, not at first. For five years Leslie had stayed at her position with the brokerage house, where she was executive assistant to the president. She had hoped to be a broker herself one day but Terry told her one in the family was enough.
Mrs. Martin frowned as she checked her eyebrows in the rear-view mirror. Where was that girl? She didn't like waiting. She turned on the radio to a music station, and let the soft, mellow tones roll over her. If that girl did not come in ten minutes, she would drive on home. The bridge club was coming tonight and she had so many things for Lucy to do first.
Five minutes later she saw Leslie turn her Mercury into the short paved drive in front of the garage and step out. Martha waited for her to come and open the car door for her.
"Mother Martin, what a surprise. Come in and I'll fix some tea."
"Leslie, dear, hello. I simply had to rush over and find out about our baby."
Leslie sighed, turned and faced the older woman. "Mother Martin, your baby is hard at work trying to beat the Dow Jones averages down in the salt mine. My baby is still high up in my fallopian tubes somewhere, trying to get fertilized at some later date, she hopes."
"No luck?"
"No, damnit. Dr. Lawrence says I'm too tense, over anxious. I'm afraid I'm only late again."
"Poor dear," Mrs. Martin said, her eyes narrowing slightly. She brushed away a curious feeling and took the young woman's arm and walked toward the house. "Now, dear, you listen to what the doctor says, he may just be right you know. I heard once that more women become pregnant when they're drunk than any other time. Do you think that could be true? I mean if they are woozy they certainly must be relaxed, and maybe that would...." She stopped and laughed. "Come on, let's find that tea."
Inside the house, Leslie hoped that she had cleaned well that morning. She refused to keep the part time maid on after she quit work. What else would she do all day? She saw the house was respectable, the big living room and the separate dining room at least. They went on to the kitchen where she fixed tea, then carried it back to the living room.
"Now, Leslie dear, should we go over the basics about the best time for a woman to conceive? There's the reverse rhythm method which is supposed to be very productive, and the ejaculation-a-day plan."
Leslie held up her hand, having no patience for going over the sixteen ways to get pregnant again.
"Mother Martin. Dr. Lawrence said I should think about something else for a while. I'm going to take up oil painting."
Dr. Warren Lawrence watched Mrs. Leslie Martin walk down the short hall and into the outer office. He even liked the way her little tight ass twitched. When he turned around there was a strange smile on his face. He spotted the new RN, Johnson, and motioned to her.
"Miss Johnson, get a box of cotton swabs and take them into room C please, right away."
Dr. Lawrence watched Miss Johnson come into the examining room.
"Is there something I can do for you, doctor?" she asked.
He moved past her and locked the door, then turned her around and cupped both of her breasts with his hands.
"Miss Johnson, do you have any idea what it takes to get a gynecologist worked up sexually? All day I look into cunts, I work on assholes, I feel up pretty tits for nodules. What's left? How can I possibly get a hard-on?"
Miss Johnson unzipped the front of her uniform and shrugged it off her shoulders. She wore nothing under it, and leaned forward so her thirty-seven-inch tits would hang more perfectly. Dr. Lawrence sighed and fondled them.
"Yes, Johnson, yes, tits, I've seen them. Beautiful, and I am a tit man, but that's hardly enough for me...."
"Doctor, you just leave that to me. All day you've been staring at and punching cunts. Now we reverse the tables. It's time for me to examine you. Please take your clothes off and get up on the table."
He looked at her for a moment. "Take my clothes off?"
"You can hardly expect me to examine you and discover your condition if you don't take your clothes off, now can you, Doctor?"
He mumbled something, and she whipped the white coat off him, then unbuttoned his .shirt and pulled it from his pants. Slowly, extremely slowly, she undressed him. Her hands caressed his bare chest, his flat belly. Miss Johnson unhooked his belt and zipped down his fly, and he looked up, grinning.
"Hey, this just might the hell work!"
"I know it will," she said, brushing one huge hanging tit against his mouth. He kissed it, started to bite it and then shook his head. "Later, Miss Johnson."
By the time she had his pants off he got on the table in his brief shorts. She "examined" his chest, his face, then worked down to his hips.
"Let me just pull down the shorts now, that's the way," she said, stripping the shorts off his ankles. "My goodness, I do see that you have a problem. Limpitis if I've ever seen it. Yes, unless we can get a swelling here, we do have a serious case."
Dr. Lawrence grinned. Now this was living.
"First we'll just check to see if the old gonadus perfectus are both there."
Her hand snaked between his legs, feeling his balls, teasing them, grinding one against the other until the doctor groaned. She toyed with them, then stroked each gently before she leaned down and licked his scrotum clean of the faint musky man smell, then one at a time gulped the tasty balls into her mouth and chewed tenderly at them through the scrotum sac. Her hands had been busy too, moving up to his limp cock, playing with it, stroking it back and forth.
His prick didn't show much attention. At last she bent and let her tits lower over his cock. "How would you like to get your cock tit-smothered?" she said looking up.
Dr. Warren Lawrence had dozed off. She whacked his leg waking him up. "What's the idea? I'm being sexy, sucking on your goddamn balls, and you go to sleep."
"Miss Johnson, I told you when I hired you. I'm a goddamn gynecologist, remember? I'm way past the straight fucking stuff. You said you could really do me a job, something different. Now give me something different!"
Lonnie Burkhalt kicked the can as far as he could down the alley, then he turned and went the opposite direction, moving quickly along the fence to the hole where the boards had shrunk and pulled apart a half-inch. On the other side of the seven foot board fence, the lawn he wanted to mow lay lush and green. But they mowed it themselves. He'd given up trying to get them as a regular customer two months ago.
But just last week he found out some girl had been sunbathing in the back yard every afternoon. She had a skimpy little bikini and sometimes she let her damn tits hang out in the sun! Maybe he'd be lucky today.
His eye hovered over the crack and he reached through the hole in his right pocket and grabbed his cock, hot at the sight. Almost directly in front of him lay a teen-aged girl. She had moved over from where she had been, the sun was moving a shadow toward her. She lay with her head toward him, and the bra top of her sun suit lay at her side. Her eyes were closed against the sun, and she had small blue plastic eye shields over them.
Lonnie couldn't get his eyes away from her tits. They didn't look so big all spread out and on her back that way, but they were real. Without thinking he began jacking off. She moved, then sat up with her side to him. JESUS, LOOK AT THE FUCKING TITS SHE'S GOT! He wanted to shout it. But he couldn't say a word. A moment later she stood and walked into the house, trailing the bikini bra top behind her.
"Shit," Lonnie said. He looked down where his cum-hot prick made a big hump in his pants.
Should he go ahead and finish jerking off, or get on to work? He stared through the crack again, hoping the girl would come back out. He guessed she'd had enough sun for one day, so he pulled his hand out of his pocket and kept walking toward the end of the block.
Where was he going? Oh, yeah, the Martins' place. Nice layout, and he pulled in a cool three bucks a week for mowing and edging the lawn, more if he had to do anything for the pool. Now that Mrs. Martin: there was one sweet-looking woman. But she'd no more look at him than she would piss up his nose. She was stacked. One day he saw her sunbathing with her bra top off. Keerist! She had more tit laying flat on her back than most women did letting them hang straight down.
By this time the hard-on from the girl on the lawn was only a fond memory. He ran the last half a block and up to the front step where he rang the bell. No one came. He rang again and heard somebody moving around. Her car was here: she had to be home.
On the third ring she came. She opened the door just a crack until she saw who it was.
"Hi, Mrs. Martin. Okay if I start doing the lawn?"
"Oh, Lonnie, yes." She opened the door a little more and he saw she wore a blue robe. "I was getting ready to go out to the pool."
"Just the regular mow and edging today, Mrs. Martin?" he asked.
She nodded, let go of one side of the robe to brush back her trim red hair. As she did the robe swung open and he stared directly at her pink-tipped breast. She recovered quickly.
"I'm sorry, Lonnie."
He grinned. "Hey, that's okay, I like to look at pretty girls."
He was gone then, down the steps and around to the back. Five minutes later, she heard the electric lawnmower purring away in the back yard.
In her second story bedroom, Leslie Martin dropped her robe and stared at her naked body in the full length mirror. Her little experiment had worked on Lonnie. He had been impressed with his quick peek at her bobbies. It was after four. Terry said he'd be home about six tonight. Something about a special training session for the new man. Leslie smiled as she slipped into her bikini, fitted her big tits in the center of the small triangles and took her sunglasses, towel and suntan lotion and went down to the pool. Lonnie always started mowing in the back yard. He should still be near the pool somewhere....
CHAPTER TWO
Terrance Martin sat behind his huge free-form teakwood desk and lit a long thin cigar. He pushed the intercom button, two short blasts which meant his secretary was supposed to get into his office quickly. She came through the door with that sexy little wriggle with her hips that was the primary factor in lifting her from the secretarial pool six months ago. She was blonde, five-nine, with only a hint of a bustline, and hips so slender she could pass for a boy. Her blouse plunged hopefully to her beltline but revealed nothing.
"You buzzed, Mr. Martin."
"Yes, Danica. You're going to have to stay late tonight."
"Some important business, Mr. Martin?"
"Oh, yes, very," he said glancing at the couch at the side of his office which faced the glass panels.
From the fourteenth floor, the whole little city spread out at their feet. The top floor office suite was befitting the son and only heir of the Martin, Martin and Martin brokerage house with seats on all the big exchanges.
She took a deep breath. "Bastard," she said evenly, with only a hint of a smile.
"True, but don't let it get around. You'll have a line of a dozen little cunts trying for your job."
"Why don't you just rent me an apartment? Wouldn't it be a lot simpler?" She began to take off her blouse.
"Because I can't afford to be caught renting you an apartment. The old man would blow his cork."
"And blow your two million dollars, right?"
"Hey, wait on that blouse. Hadn't you better close up the outer office?"
She threw the blouse to the corner of his desk exposing small round breasts, a sensitive soft white, with brown rings and brown nipples.
"Big Cock Martin, I saw you rubbing yourself off half the afternoon, so I knew you'd be calling. I've had the outer office shut down for fifteen minutes."
He held out his arms. "Danica, you are one hell of a typist, but when it comes to the executive couch you sure know how to throw your sweet little cunt around."
She went behind the desk and pushed back his swivel executive's chair. Gracefully she stripped off her skirt and he saw that she had already dropped her panties and panty hose. Carefully she humped her twat up to him so he could see the pink, twinkling of her cunt, then she unzipped his pants and dug around until she pulled his cock out of his pants.
"Now just relax darling, this is a little number called the executive chair sit-fuck which I just invented. Sit there and rest easy and don't let the fucking chair fall over."
She straddled the arms of the chair with her legs and began lowering her juiced-up cunt toward his ramrod stiff, pulsating cock which he held straight up.
Leslie Martin dove in the pool, waiting until she was sure that Lonnie, the lawn boy, could see her. She swam three lengths of the pool, then swam under water and unhooked her bikini bra top and let it drift to the top of the water. She came up in the deep end and held onto the side of the pool, looking for Lonnie. He came close and she waved for him to come over. He shut off the motor and came toward the pool. She carefully kept her breasts under water, but the water was so clear and still he could see that she was topless.
"Oh, Lonnie, I don't know how to say this, but the top came off my suit. Do you see it in the water anywhere?"
He wasn't looking around the pool, he stared directly at her breasts through the water. She waited a moment.
"Lonnie, do you see my bikini top in the pool?"
"Oh, not yet." He tore his stare away from her tits and looked around the pool. He saw it at the far end, but shook his head. "Can't find it. You want me to get you a towel so you can cover up?"
"Well, yes, Lonnie. Please. There's one over there by the chairs."
He looked back at her tits, grinned and went for the towel. When he brought it back he put it on the grass beside the pool.
"Want me to help you out of the water?" he asked.
"I can get out just...." she hesitated. "That might be a good idea, Lonnie. Give me your hand." She came up not to a sitting position as she normally would, but with the lift of the boy she came all the way to one knee, facing him. She was both pleased and thrilled by the surprise and awe on his face when he stared at her breasts within touching distance. She made no move to get the towel. Instead she stood up and smiled at him.
"Thank you, Lonnie, for the help." Then she noticed his expression. "Lonnie, you're staring. Surely you've seen a girl's breasts before."
He glanced up at her face, then back down at her tits.
"No, ma'am. I mean, yes, but nothing anywhere near as beautiful and perfect as yours. Yours're beautiful."
"Lonnie, you are a darling. Hand me the towel, would you please?"
He did, watching as she put it over her back and pulled the ends of it together over her breasts. She left room so half of one tit peeked out.
"Oh, Lonnie, I may want you to do some cleaning up on the little dressing rooms we have over here. Did you see them?" She took him to the side of the pool where two small aluminum buildings had been set up. Each was about six by eight feet. She took him into one marked with the female sign and showed him. It had pegs and hangers on one side, two chairs and a small day bed on the side. As soon as they were inside she closed the door and slid a locking bolt into place. Then she dropped the towel and turned toward Lonnie.
"Do you really like my titties, Lon?"
"Jesus!" he said and began rubbing his hard-on through his pants. "Like them? Just the most beautiful, wonderful things I've ever seen. Marvelous."
She caught his hand and moved him to the couch where she sat down. She tugged at his hand.
"I won't get in any trouble, will I, Mrs. Martin?"
"Not if you sit down and do what I tell you to," she said.
Leslie Martin had been building a slow boil all afternoon. First that sonofabitching doctor had the guts to tell her she didn't fuck right, then Mother Martin came over and started to tell her the same thing. It was just too much. Anybody would have served, but Lon happened to be there, and he seemed more than willing.
She knew he was just fourteen, but she was sure he had a prick that would get hard. As soon as she had showed him a tit at the door, she had started getting hot. Her breasts were warming. When she dived into the pool and did her strip act, she felt her hot blood surging into her naked tits. Now with the more intimate revealing of her breasts she could feel them pounding with more blood and start to ache. She was sure her nipples were ready to spring up at his first touch.
He was still staring at her tits as she pulled him down beside her. She made sure that her leg touched his all the way to the knee.
"Lonnie, what do you know about girls?"
He laughed. "Lots, and I like them-especially when they go topless."
"You like tits?"
"Sure."
"Show me. Pet me. Feel me. Have you ever petted tits before, Lonnie?"
He shook his head. Never in his life, and for sure not bare ones like this. He began to reach out a hand and looked at her. She smiled. Goddamn, the cunt was still smiling! He touched her and expected a slap, but she just sighed. When his hand reached around her big bobbie she began laughing softly. Goddamn, he could play with them all night, he bet! He got his other hand over to her other tit and began working with it.
Leslie moaned softly as his hand connected with her bare breast. Marvelous, so damn sexy, and he was so young! She felt his hands playing with the gentle sag of her tits, then work up the swell toward the nipples. He was so smooth and soft she barely knew when he got there until her nipples jolted and surged with boiling blood and stood up a half inch from her tit.
"Oh, yes, darling, that feels wonderful."
"You like that?"
"Yes, little darling, yes! I know some girl has probably slapped you for touching her breast, right? Or your mother told you never to hit a girl up there. A grown woman likes to be petted on her tits. Why don't you kiss them for me?"
"No shit?" She nodded.
His face went down on her breast and skyrockets bloomed and roared around her head. His lips touched her tit on one side and left a stain of fire. He skipped upward on the swell and burrowed over the top, making her gasp with a sudden thrill that she was afraid she would never feel again. She moaned in delight and opened her eyes to watch him. His mouth worked higher, and when his lips touched her nipple Leslie had a small mini-climax. She hadn't done that since she was first married! A sudden sharp jolt from her clit and one tremor, then it passed and she saw he had sucked her nipple into his mouth!
"Beautiful," she crooned, holding the back of his head, pinning him to her breast. He licked it for a moment, then bit tenderly and at last sucked in more of her tit until his mouth was full.
"You're a little tit-sucker, you know that, Lonnie. How do you like eating tit."
"Far out!" he said. "I cum once already, right in my messed up pants."
"Don't worry, darling, you have plenty more." She sat up straighter and began pulling his red T-shirt up. "Let's take this off, sweetheart. It's too warm in here." He let her strip it off him and the sudden young boy chest and tiny man-tits caught her off guard.
"Beautiful yourself," she said rubbing her hands over his bared chest. "You are one beautiful guy!"
His hands rubbed her tits again, and she took one hand working it down, down until it was almost on her crotch.
He looked at her. "You want me to mess around down there?"
"Do you want to?"
"Well, sure."
"Then start petting me gently, rubbing around, and around, down my legs, up my legs, softly over my ... pussy. Build up the thrill. You do, and maybe we can take off the wrappings."
She felt his hands wandering, and as they did she opened his belt buckle and zipped down his pants. He looked at her.
"Do you mind if I check out your plumbing?"
He shook his head. "Just watch out for the goo." Then he went back to rubbing her legs.
Leslie found his hard cock at once, just behind his pants fly. He wore no shorts. She peeled back his pants and soon pulled them off his legs. His darling little cock wasn't so little. She guessed it was almost four inches long, and hard as a battleaxe. Soft little brown curls of cock hair showed around his balls. She petted the cock for a moment and felt it tremble. So hard, yet so tender too! She was so moved she wanted to cry, but she knew he would misunderstand.
She felt his fingers probing under the edge of her bikini bottoms. She grabbed the tie strings and undid them, then pulled the offending cloth away.
"My god!" Lonnie Burkhalt said, staring down at the first pussy of any age he had ever seen. "My god, but you've got a lot of hair."
"That's to help you find the right spot, darling." She was stroking his cock now, feeling the bulb of the head, amazed at the satin sleek purpleness of even this young prick.
"Can you find anything, darling?" she asked.
He shook his head, so she shifted her legs, spreading them wide and holding them there.
"Jesus...." He stared down at her cunt, wide open, panting, her cunt cream lapping at the edges, making it wink at him, she began opening and closing muscles deep in her cunt so it kept up a little tremor of hope. He knelt on the floor staring at her juicy cunt, hardly knowing what to do.
"Touch it, darling, but be gentle."
His hand edged out, his own cock forgotten now. His finger brushed the outer labia and Leslie moaned in pure desire.
"More, darling, touch it more!"
He reached out again, touching the same place, then doing it again and again around her cunt hole.
Leslie was panting now, her breath ragged, her hips beginning to weave and move. "Delicious, darling, so delicious. Do it again-rub me more!"
His hand seemed to understand the mission now and her cunt lips were massaged until she ground her hips into the quilt on the daybed and gurgled in wanton desire. Cunt cream leaked against his hand and he jumped back, then grinned and went back to his task.
That was when he found her clit, the little node higher and seemingly out of place. He brushed it, and she yelped. He touched it again, and she squealed.
"What's that?" he asked.
"That, little fucker, is my clit. Touch it again, try to pick up that little round ball in there. It sets me on fire, that's a girl's prick, it's how she climaxes."
He rubbed it again, then again and at last set up a steady little rhythm, listening to her groan and squeal in rapture.
Then she stopped him. "No more right now, sweet, not yet. Instead poke a finger up my pussy. You ever do that?"
He shook his head, then looked back at her hole. He found the right spot easily and began working one finger into her creamy sinkhole. She yelped as his first finger sank in up to his last knuckle.
"Jesus. ... Am I inside you?"
"That's not a ripe watermelon, boy." She moaned and told him to go back to her clit. It had given her a little time to cool off. She was almost ready to cum. Now she turned her attention to his cock. It was harder now, and throbbing. She picked it up and stroked it, then played with his balls and he pulled back.
"You want a face full of cum, you do that again."
She grinned and pumped his cock again, then once more, and five strokes later she watched his cum fly out, jet out and plop on the floor of indoor-outdoor carpet. Lonnie groaned and panted and swore as he came, and she urged him on. Then she looked back at her own cunt and felt her own desire building.
"Darling, pet me some more, stroke my clit the way you were. I'll get you hard again." She turned on the couch so she faced his feet and pulled his still dripping cock into her mouth. Lonnie gasped in surprise, then went back to strumming her cunt and watched his own cock grow. Before long it was out of her mouth by two inches, and he knew he could cum again.
Leslie had never felt so sexed-up in her life. Lately, with Terry, it had been so damn mechanical. He hadn't cared about petting or warming her up, he just wanted to "plant the damn seed" and get to sleep. And that was what he did. It was as romantic as watching a bitch dog get bred in the living room.
She felt her blood boiling again. Her hips were weaving, her breasts on fire. She felt the storm building deep inside her body. Now his cock was ready.
She let go of his cock, and pushed him off the couch. She lay down with her back planted on the material, her legs spread and her knees lifted.
"Sweetheart, plant your meat up my cunt right now. I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME!" She shouted the last, and Lonnie sat there on the floor dazed.
"Me, fuck you?"
"Yes, sweetheart. Get up here. FUCK ME NOW, DAMNIT. I WANT YOUR COCK IN MY PUSSY!"
He got between her legs and somehow nosed down. She caught his prick and nosed it into her juicy, creamed-up cunt, and when it slid into her greased tube, she wailed.
He stopped, but she grabbed his asscheeks and rammed him forward.
"AAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!" she bellowed. Oh, damn, you're inside. YOU'RE FUCKING ME NOW!" Leslie began working her hips, humping up at him, but he didn't respond. "Come on, dummy, push it in and out: that's the fucking part!"
"Oh, I get more to do." he began pumping into her then, and she built up a rhythm. She felt his hot, hot prick slanting in against the tender sides of her sensitive vaginal walls, scrape downward, and then bottom out against her pelvic bones with his own and begin the outward thrust. She could feel the edges of her juiced-up pussy being caught on the sides of his cock and sucked in with it, only to slip and slide away as he stroked too deeply, puckering her cunt on the inward stroke, and making it blossom like a red-creamed flower on the outward journey.
With each stroke she felt the muscles stretch and work across her clit, bringing sharp spasms of delight and helping to build her passion higher.
There was no way to estimate the drive of his ass as he plunged in and out of this new thing to jack off into. It was different, and it was good. Lonnie didn't quite realize that he was fucking. And fucking a grown woman with tits bigger than the Arizona mountains. Goddamn, was this him fucking Mrs. Martin? Nobody would believe it, absolutely nobody!
He knew his cock was harder than it had ever been. First, just seeing her tits made it hard, and he had lost two loads in his pants, not the one he admitted to. Then she jacked him off once, so he was working on number four. Damn, four times!
His cock rumbled in and out of her juicy cunt. Cunt was the best thing he had ever fucked. Even better than his sister's panties and bra combined. Next best was Wanda's arm pit that night. He'd been so sexed-up he had to shoot it somewhere, and she agreed. She thought it was wild until he splashed cum all over her arm and her blouse.
Lonnie began to experiment, wobbling his prick around. Damn, she must have a big cunt. He came all the way out and listened to her wail, then jammed it back in full length. That was good. He did it again, then again, and ten more times. The woman was bouncing below him so he slowed his stroke and fell hard against her whole body, squashing down her tits, and that was when she lifted her legs over his back and locked them together. It changed the angle or something and on every stroke now he thought he was cumming.
He punched in and out faster, faster, faster, until he thought he would die. His head was flying off. He couldn't get enough air forced into his lungs. His feet and hands began tightening and cupping. Then he exploded. Never had he felt a climax anything like it. The whole room shook and his cock felt like it was a mile long. He jammed and jammed and planted all of his cum deep, deep inside her fucking cunt.
Leslie had sensed him start, and it triggered her own climax which had been close for five minutes. She began humping against him, plowing up to meet his prick, so good, so long! She wiggled around to excite the glans, to make him cum faster. When she put her legs up and over his back, it seemed to do the trick and at once he began panting.
By that time she was lost in a wild whirlwind of emotion. Her body shook apart with a dozen gigantic spasms that shook every muscle and bone in her body, rattling her head, making her count hands and feet. Her whole body burst into flame, spewing hot fire and cinders in all directions. Every cell had a nerve ending that was shooting messages of rapture and wonder to her brain. The lines were down, the whole world was out of phase, and the rainbow that broke over her cunt was the most beautiful she had ever seen.
They both climaxed at the same time and dissolved into each other's arms on the couch.
It was nearly ten minutes before either moved. Then the boy sat up and came out of her.
"Goddamn, I really fucked you."
She sat up and patted his prick. "You sure did, and Lonnie if you so much as hint about this to anyone, I'll see that you never get another lawn mowing job in town and that you go on report at the police department because I'll accuse you of stealing items from me. Not enough to put you in jail, but enough to get you in all kinds of trouble. And I can do it."
He sat on the couch. "You didn't have to say that. I wouldn't tell anybody. Wow, it's the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me. I'd never do anything to get you in trouble." He looked up in awe and wonder. "Wow, and if there's anything I can do, you know, anything...."
"You can, right now. Give me a kiss, then get your clothes on, and work on the yard. I've got to think about dinner."
She slipped back into her bikini bottoms, ignoring the cunt cream and his cum oozing out of her well-fucked cunt.
When she saw him last, he was running for the lawnmower, eager to get back at his job.
CHAPTER THREE
"Dr. Lawrence, Warren, you are a prick."
"Huh?"
Nurse Thompson giggled. "You are a prick, and you have a body. You must have something similar to that. All we have to do is get your prick hard enough to fuck." She stared for a moment at the medical examining table in the doctor's office room. She had him bare-assed, now what? She'd never had any trouble getting men to go hard. Most of her problems had been trying to stop them. But she said she could, so she damn well would. She was naked now, too, and bent over his crotch, gulping half of his soft cock into her mouth, sucking on it, grinding his balls between her fingers until he yelped.
"Damn, don't castrate me, woman!"
"Sorry, some guys like more pain than others."
She had spit out his penis when she answered him, but it was just as well, he wasn't responding at all. Maybe the old sonofabitch was anal erotic. She slid one finger around to his brown pucker and rubbed it. He looked up.
"What the hell?"
"What the hell what?"
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Just messing around." She smiled and watched his face carefully as she kept rubbing his asshole. "Does that feel good, kind of sexy?"
He frowned, then twisted his mouth. At last he nodded. "Yeah, but don't let it get around."
She grinned, so he was wild for assholes! She wormed her finger into the opening, pulled it out and reached for a jar of Vaseline petroleum jelly he kept for anal exams. A little on her longest middle finger and she went back to his rectum. She saw his prick begin to move a little as she toyed with the pucker. When she found the right spot and pushed from side to side, his cock came heavier with blood and began to rise.
She slashed her finger up his asshole and watched his cock come hard and jolt upward.
"Goddamn!" he crooned. "Holy fuck, but that is wild! You know, you're the first cunt who's ever got me hard that way."
"Great, you big prick, but I'm just getting started."
She got a small surgical towel from the drawer and had him sit up, then turn over on his stomach. As he turned she wrapped his cock in the towel.
"Now lay on it and pretend that it's that bitch-cunt Mrs. Martin you're humping." Leslie smiled as he lay down on the table and closed his eyes. She spread his legs and spanked his asscheeks a dozen times, then parted them and began finger fucking his asshole until he began groaning.
Dr. Lawrence was in a sea of fantasy. Leslie Martin had just begged him to help her get pregnant and he told her there was only one other way. She was fully dressed as he backed her against a wall and began rubbing her up.
"A woman has to want to get pregnant, has to like to fuck," he said, watching her expression. But she only grinned.
"You're a cunt doctor, doctor, you poke around in pussies all day. I bet you can't get your cock hard in two minutes." She looked at her watch, then bent down and opened his pants and pulled aside his shorts. His cock, hard and pulsating sprung out at her. "Damn, I lose the bet," she said. But instead of reaching for her purse, she pulled up her short skirt and he saw nothing under it.
Quickly he spread her legs and jammed his finger into her cunt. She groaned and humped it outward toward him. "Sweet doctor, fuck me. FUCK ME RIGHT NOW!"
He laughed and pushed her against the examining room door, locked it and then pulled out her ass until he could see her twat winking at him. He nosed his prick into her, bent his knees and jammed his big tool up inside her.
"WWWOOOOOOOOWWWW!" she half screamed, keeping it low and soft. " OOOOOO HHHHHHYYEEEEEEAAAHHHH! Damn, that is fine! I didn't know it could be done standing up."
He pounded upward a dozen times and knew he was getting close. The woman had put her arms around his neck, the lifted up her legs and wound them around his back, locking her ankles. It was the wildest fuck he'd ever known.
Nurse Thompson watched the man as he got hotter. She had been finger fucking his asshole for five minutes, then she wiped it clean with a wet towel and bent her face between his asscheeks, letting her tongue dribble around his pucker.
"What's that?" he asked.
"How would you like a tongue job up your bung?" she asked. "Oh, shit."
"You just better not," Thompson laughed. She bored in, her tongue stabbing his soft asshole, working on the relaxed ring muscle, blowing it apart until her tongue wormed into his slot.
Dr. Lawrence groaned, then yelped. "What the fuck? Hell, your tongue is really in my asshole!" He said something else, but it was lost in his groans as his whole body shook with sudden spasms as he jolted his hips forward jetting his cum into the towel. She marveled at the energy a man expended in the planting. His whole body seemed to contract, to push, to surge upward with the basic, animal need to plant the seeds of the race deeply. She pulled out her tongue, wiped it with a towel and then rinsed out her mouth. She kissed both his asscheeks and let him lay where he was. Just before she sneaked out of the room, she covered him with a big towel.
He caught her leg as she went past on the way to the door.
"Hey, no way you're leaving me now. One cum is never enough. What you got for seconds?"
She grinned and turned, unbuttoning her white nurse's uniform again. "Fuck, I should have something left in the old sack. Let's take a look." She dropped the uniform spread her legs and looked at her crotch, but shook her head. "No, no pussy, it seems too much like business." She got a warm wet towel and wiped the cum off his cock and the table where he had squirted out, then washed off his balls and crotch as well. The warm cloth could sometimes do wonders. Even before she used the second warm towel he was getting hard again.
"What about a good tit fuck? You ever have a genuine tit fuck?"
He shook his head.
"Get on your knees on the floor."
He did, but when she got on her knees she was too high. She sat in the chair and had him come toward her. She bent over and pulled his cock between her hanging tits, then pushed her boobs together until they swamped his penis erectus.
"I'll be fucked in the ear, look at that! Your damn tits ate up my old horse cock. He still in there?"
"Sure, and my tits want to be fucked. Go ahead."
He began stroking up into her breasts much like he had dreamed of fucking up into Leslie Martin. Now there was one hunk of woman. She just turned him on. He could imagine himself in bed with her, for about a five-fuck all-night stand. Oh yeah! Now that would be something! He stroked upward, watching Thompson's big tits bulge out and jiggle and bounce. She held them together and grinned as he gave a heavier push.
"I think you like tit fucking," she said, grunting as he jammed her harder than usual.
"It's cleaner than asshole-fucking," he said. "But I'm not knocking either one. Whenever I can get it hard, I'll fuck something."
"You ever fuck your wife?"
"My ex? Once in a while. We've been divorced for five years, but about twice a year she calls and says to come on over for the night. About five o'clock in the morning she figures out how to get me hard, and we fuck until I cave in."
The nurse looked down at her breasts and watched them bouncing. "You going to cave in sometime today down there?"
"Sure, unless you want it in your mouth."
"Next time, fucker, next time."
He groaned and began shooting. She let go of her tits and his prick jolted through shooting a blob of cum onto her chin. The next squirts dropped lower on her chest until the last one dribbled out of his cock and wet down the valley between her big tits.
"So that's a tit fuck?" he asked wiping off his cock with a towel.
A knock came on the door.
"Dr. Lawrence. Mrs. McCurdy wonders if you'll be very much longer?"
"No, tell her I'll be right there. Take her temperature again."
He grinned at the naked nurse as he pulled on his shorts then his pants, shirt and his white coat.
She was dressing, too, and by the time he finished, she had her white uniform and panties back on. She slid into sneakers and checked her hair.
"Go down and tell Mrs. McCurdy that the little emergency is over, and that I should be right there.
"Damn, I've never been called an emergency before," Thompson said, going out the door.
Doctor Lawrence shook his head at the wobble of her ass as she went out. Best damn investment he ever made, hiring her. She wasn't much of a nurse, oh she had her cap and credentials, but she sure as hell did know how to get him hard! He went into the hallway and checked in one empty examination room before he found the complaining Mrs. McCurdy. She was in her sixties, with sagging, fleshless breasts and a beat-up pussy. It needed wall repair.
Ten minutes later he had finished with her and checked in at the desk. Two more patients and the office was empty. Nurse Thompson followed him down the short hall between the examining rooms. She spoke softly but he heard her.
"Hey, man, you left me all up on a ledge, know what I mean? You going to help me get down?"
He nodded. "Just as soon as we get the office cleared out. You stay late, or come back after the other women leave."
She did. The door was unlocked and all the patients and the other nurses had left. She walked in, locked the door and then looked for Dr. Lawrence. She found him in the largest of the examining rooms running a vibrator over his prick. It didn't respond.
"You didn't cum?"
She shook her head.
"Lay down on my table and show me your cunt."
She grinned, dropped her panties and lay on the table, her knees raised, legs spread.
"So spread them and rub yourself off."
"I wanted you to."
"No way. I see cunts all day." He watched her, then grinned. Got something in here that might help. I use it for demonstration purposes with frigid women, or for a cunt who don't think their husband is fucking right." He brought out a six-inch dildo made of some kind of hardwood polished to a gleaming flesh color. It was gloriously smooth and shaped exactly like the average stiff prick. He had a candle about the same length but only three-quarters of an inch in diameter. He handed her the dildo.
"Go fuck yourself," he said grinning.
"I've never used one of these."
He showed her how, rubbing a little Vaseline on it, then helping her edge it into her spread pussy.
"Hellofa lot better than a broom handle with splinters."
"Ouch," she yelped, "that would be rough."
She felt the thing sliding into her cunt and she couldn't believe how much like a real cock it felt. It wasn't warm, that was about the only difference But she'd get it warm! She got hotter and hotter as she pushed it farther and farther inside her, then she drew it out and pushed it back. Her hips pumped up to meet it. After stroking it a few seconds, she got onto it and used her left hand with it. Her right fingers moved over her delicious clit and twanged it.
"Oh, god but that's fine," she whispered.
She hit it five more times and felt like she would climax. She looked around, wondering where the doctor was. She found him lying on a towel on the floor. His coat was off, his pants down and his bare ass poked into the air. He held the candle behind him, gently working it into his asshole.
"Hey, you do that often?"
He looked up. "No, fact is I haven't thought about this old candle trick since I was fourteen and horny as hell. But damn, I guess it still works."
She couldn't wait then, her pussy was humping up at the dildo, her hand moving it in and out. Her right hand rubbing her clit faster and faster.
She knew it couldn't be a regular climax. Not after the buildup she'd had that afternoon. She kept humping and twanging, as the pressure built higher and higher.
"Oh, damn, so sweet!" she crooned. "So beautiful, so fucking good!"
It was the best fuck she'd had in months. Then she remembered it wasn't a real fuck, it was a rub-off and a dildo. So she'd steal this one, or have the doctor buy her one. It was tremendous!
Again and again she bridged the top of the gap without going over, then she moaned and leaped. The suspense was tremendous as she held her breath. Her body heaved and twanged and then the surging, smashing lightning hit and she was into the vibrating, shaking, trembling climax of her life. It threw her down and stomped on her, mashed her breasts and pumped her pussy dry and at last deposited her whole again and sobbing on the far side of the canyon, feeling refreshingly ravished. It took her five minutes to taper off to anywhere near normal. She sighed, wiped the tears from her eyes and looked down at him.
He shook his head. "Fuck, I've heard of good climaxes, but that must have been a great one. You all right?"
"Heavenly." The dildo was still in her hot and hard. She thought of rubbing off again.
"Once I figured you were going to bounce off the damn table and smash me."
She looked at his rump. The candle was jammed up his bung five inches, just the pink tip sticking out. He was tapping it in and pulling it about an inch out each stroke.
"Getting ass-fucked?"
"Oh, damn yes."
"You ever had a cock back there?"
"Of course not, I'm no damn queer."
"About half the cunt doctors are."
"No shit?" He was amazed. "I guess it figures. Looking into all these female holes turns a guy off after a while."
"You still working on the first one?"
He laughed. "Hell no, I'm working on number three. The damn candle hits some fucking little gland up there and it triggers my old gonads like a machine gun."
He gasped and humped his hips like a battering ram toward the floor, forgetting the candle. It gradually worked out of his asshole. He fell on the towel, panting, and she watched the sweat bead on his forehead. He was probably a latent homosexual, but she wasn't about to suggest it to him. Not after the way he bit her head off before. Let him find out for himself.
She rolled to one side and pulled the dildo from her cunt, amazed at the loss she felt. She shook her head, got off the table without stepping on him and washed off the woooden cock under the hot water, then dried it and put it back in the cupboard where it rested in a box. She found her panties and pulled them up, then zipped her uniform.
He had stirred, sat up and pulled up his shorts and pants.
"Holy shit, but that was wild." He frowned. "Look, you tell anyone, any fucker at all about this, and I'll fire you and put in a complaint about you to the medical association and the nurses' registry."
She smiled. "I just work here, Doctor. I wouldn't think of ratting on you. Not as long as you take care of me once in a while."
"Like today, right?"
"And maybe a night now and then, so we won't be rushed."
He nodded. "Seems like a fair exchange. This could get a little wild here at the office."
"Oh, I like it here, too, whenever you're ready. I can do you right."
"How would you like to help me get that fussy Mrs. Martin, Mrs. Leslie Martin. She can't get pregnant."
"Old tiny tits, I remember her. Sure. Any time I can help out, here or at your place."
"Let me do some thinking on that. It's about time I had a good party go at my place anyway." He rubbed his chin. "Oh, yes, I'm getting some ideas, some fine ideas for our good Mrs. Martin!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Terry Martin wheeled his Porsche home like he was driving the Monte Carlo Road Race. He shaved lights, squealed around corners, rammed past other cars and cheated on stop signs. He sang at the top of his voice, not knowing what he was singing, knowing only that it was a wonderful day, that he was in top form and nothing could stop him.
A block from his home he hit the brakes sharply, leaving a twenty foot skid mark of black angry rubber on the pavement. The kid had darted directly in front of his car. He had stopped, frozen in place as the car brakes slammed the car to a stop three feet from him. Then the scared kid thawed, gasped, and ran on across the street. Terry sat there for a few seconds trying to get his breath back, letting his racing heart come somewhere back to normal. He thought of moving to the curb carefully and parking it. Terry took three deep breaths then drove on to his driveway and eased onto the cement slab beside the Mercury.
He had never come so close to running down a pedestrian in his life. Still shaking, Terry took his briefcase and went inside.
Leslie met him at the door and kissed his cheek. "What's the matter, you look done in."
He told her about the narrow escape a block down and took the drink she had ready for him. When he. was settled in the big chair and the stereo was on, she told him about the shot.
"Looks like I'm just late again."
"Damn." He watched her. How in hell was he going to get her pregnant, invite in a gang bang for her? "Maybe you should go back to Switzerland for a couple of months."
"No, darling, that didn't help a bit." She told him what the doctor suggested of changing pace, doing something different. Not pushing so hard for a pregnancy. "So I'm going to take up oil painting. The class meets once a week." She saw he wasn't really listening. He drained his drink and went for another one.
"So this means we can forget the daily dick dipping?" She nodded.
"Thank god. I thought I was going to die in your pussy one of these nights from exhaustion."
"Darling, I know it's been hard on you. Why don't we plan that party we put off. I think it's time."
"Okay, go ahead. You tell Mom about the late shot?"
She nodded.
"At least that should keep her off our necks for couple of weeks. That woman is getting on my nerves."
"I think you need that vacation to Switzerland. We could both go and get up high and summer ski."
He sighed. "Leslie, I have a business to run. A goddamned firm down there somebody has to watch over and make decisions."
"But couldn't...."
His look stopped her. He got up and went into the bathroom, his usual runaway place. Jerry never argued with her anymore, he just left the room. She wasn't thinking that a baby would solve all of her problems. But it certainly would put her in solid with Mother Martin. And right now she was sure that she was in dire need of some support.
She finished dinner and called Terry, who had changed clothes and was working on the grandfather clock he was trying to assemble from a kit he bought last year. It was still only half done. She wanted to feel blue but she couldn't. Every time she started to, she thought about the great afternoon swim and things, and she smiled.
There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to hang onto Terry Martin. It would be her life's work, and the baby would be the best way to do it. A sudden wild thought struck her. What if all the tests and tests and tests that said Terry was loaded with sperm were wrong? What if she had somebody else's child? She pushed the idea away quickly. No chance! Then she considered Lonnie and shrugged. He was too little to be potent. Or was he? She'd have to ask a doctor about that. For now she served the best dinner she knew how. All in good time. She would have everything under control in good time.
Lonnie Burkhalt never saw the car coming. Or if he did, it was going so fast it surprised him that he wasn't across the street. Sure he was running. He wanted to be as far away from the Martin house as he could before Mrs. Martin's husband came home.
He almost pissed in his pants when he saw the brakes start to leave rubber on the street. Something made him stop and froze him to the spot. He couldn't explain it. He was just glad the damn brakes had been good. A fraction of a second later he was running again, running for the next block and the way home before whoever it was caught up with him. He didn't want to be chewed out for ten minutes by some adult. No, he wanted to think about his afternoon in the dressing room at the Martin pool, and remember those great tits!
He paused, panting, halfway down the block, watched the car start up again and move on down the street. Lonnie leaned against a big tree and panted. Damn, but that scared him. He'd never come so close to getting killed in his life. The car was coming fifty miles an hour, he'd swear. Lonnie shook his head and walked on down the street trying to decide if he should go past the school. Sometimes there were some high school girls there bouncing their tits around and teasing the younger kids. Yeah, tits. Wow! He had played with big ones, Mrs. Martin's, and he had fucked her! He still didn't believe it.
As he came around the end of the school he saw one girl sitting on the grass in front of the school offices. He knew her, Patty. She waved. He waved, she was in his class at school.
"You in a rush, Lonnie?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"Got time to look at something?"
"What?"
"I've got a magazine." His face lit up. "Yeah, a good one?"
"The best one, two actually. Want to see them?" them?"
"Sure. Where are they?"
"My secret place. Got to promise you won't tell."
He nodded. She stood and walked back toward the offices, then went around the corner of the building and looked around. Nobody seemed to be on the playground. She grinned at him and waved and slid behind a shrub that grew head high right next to the bricks of the wall. He followed her and found the area opened larger and the growth in front thickened until there was a little cave like place, eight feet long and four feet wide. An old blanket lay folded at one side.
She grinned showing buck teeth and waved around. "Like it?"
"Hey, cool, how'd you find it?"
"Just found it." She opened the blanket and took out two magazines, then spread the blanket on the ground and sat down on it. She held the magazines and watched him.
"So sit down," she said.
He laughed and sat beside her. She moved her leg so it touched his. She was wearing blue jeans and a green blouse. She gave him the magazine and he grinned.
"Wow, a Playboy. The centerfold still there?"
"Look and see." She watched him as he opened the magazine riffling through it to the center and saw the fold out picture of the naked girl. He whistled. "Now there is a real broad." he said. The girl lay in a small rope hammock, on two green pillows. One hand over her blonde head, one hand on her chin. Her big tits billowed out of her chest and her waist nipped in beautifully before swirling out into delicious hips. A thin gold chain circled her waist and one knee was lifted slightly but still you could see almost all of her blonde swirl of crotch hair.
"Goddamn, look at her!" Lonnie said.
The girl looked over his shoulder moving in against him.
"Yeah, she's okay, I guess. But I like this one lots better."
Lonnie looked at her, then down at the magazine she held. It was a stud book of some kind, and showed three pictures of a naked young man, full front poses with his prick hanging down in plain sight.
"Damn," Lonnie said. "Where'd you ever get that?"
"My older brother bought it for me. I wanted to see what a boy looks like, just like you're interested in girls' tits and things."
Lonnie laughed. Then he became aware that she was still pressed against him. His shoulder was resting on her right breast. "Uh-huh, but them are just pictures."
"True."
She looked at him, he looked back and he grinned. "You, ah, you ever seen the real thing?" Patty shook her head. "You want to?"
She didn't answer him, just turned back and looked at the full page color picture of the naked man. He felt his prick come up. She hadn't said no. He moved slightly so his arm was around her shoulder and she nestled against him, sighing.
"We could mess around a little bit." She didn't reply to his invitation. Lonnie took her hand and moved it down to his leg. He reached over her arm and rubbed the inside of her thigh, and she sighed again and let her legs spread a little.
"Patty, I'd like to show you what I look like. We could sort of trade, you know. I'll show you my prick and balls and you let me look at your ... your tits. Okay?"
Again she didn't say anything, just pushed against him closer. Her hand moved on his leg, rubbing his inner thigh, moving up higher. He moved his hand from her leg up to her blouse and cupped one breast. She looked at him, a small gasp on her lips, but he nodded at her, and she closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder.
His hand rubbed her small breast then, rubbed and rubbed and he watched her hand crawl higher on his leg. They were leaning against the school building and he worked his arm out from behind her, and held her face and kissed her lips.
Patty moaned softly. "Hey, do that again. Kiss me."
He did, and this time she grinned. "Oh, yes, I do like that. Once more." He kissed her again and this time he felt her hand get to his crotch. He came away from her lips and leaned her back against the wall, then slid his hand under her blouse and worked it up. She gasped when his hand reached her bare skin over the pants, but didn't object. He wormed his hand higher until it came to her breast. She wore no bra. Patty gasped again as his hand closed around her bare breast.
"Hey, that's...." She stopped. Her hand caught his jeans zipper and pulled it down.
"Yeah. Go, girl, go!" Lonnie said softly.
She flashed him a smile. "I want you to know I don't do this for just anybody. I mean, I've been waiting for you to come by for a week now."
Thanks. His fingers found her nipple, and he petted it, trying to make it get bigger, but he couldn't.
Her hand worked in through his pants and discovered his hard, pulsating cock. She giggled.
"Oh, Lonnie, can I ... I mean, would it be all right if Hooked at him?"
"Sure." He moved her hand, opened his belt and pushed down on his pants. His cock swung into view, and she laughed.
"Wow! He's so big. I didn't think they would be that big. The one in the pictures's half that size."
"He's soft, my cock is hard, he's all ready for fucking."
Patty giggled again. "That's a naughty word, Lonnie."
"What word, fucking?"
"Right. Fucking is a naughty word." They both laughed.
Her hands caught him and began to investigate. She stretched the loose skin and pumped him up and back a couple of times.
"Wild. This is so wild!" She kissed him. "I just love you for letting me look and play with him."
As she said it, he unbuttoned the fasteners on her blouse. She watched him, lifted her brows and at last nodded. When he undid the last button he brushed her blouse to one side. Her tits were about half the size as Mrs. Martin-no, a quarter of the size. But he bet she was proud of them. He pushed back the other side of her blouse and petted both of them. Her hands went back to his cock. She bent to look at the glans then stared lower.
"Wow, you sure are hairy. My little brother...."
"So you're playing around with your little brother."
"No, just helping him dress. He's only four." They both laughed and she began investigating his balls. "Now that is wild, to have all this stuff outside, where it can be hurt. At least a woman's is inside."
"Inside where?" he asked.
She frowned, laughed, then frowned again. "You don't know?" She frowned again. "No, you had that class in sex education."
"I flunked. Show me."
She giggled. "Now I see." She shook her head. "You'll have to find it all by yourself."
His hands moved for her legs and crotch. It took him five minutes of petting, arguing and kissing before he got the zipper at the side of her jeans' down. He slid it down, then began rubbing her crotch through the jeans again. She was still playing with his cock. Once she started to jack him off, and he stopped her.
"Can I see him go off?" she asked. "Maybe, maybe later."
His right hand wormed down inside her jeans, found the silky nylon panties and went back and got under them.
"Lonnie, maybe we shouldn't. I mean, that's getting serious, petting that way."
"What the hell? You've been playing with my cock and my balls for fifteen minutes, isn't that serious?"
She didn't reply, just seemed to slide a little farther along the wall. He saw what she was doing and rearranged the blanket, then eased her down on it on her back, and kissed her lips long and hard. She sighed and let his hand move down deeper toward her treasure box. He squeezed one finger into her crotch and found her pussy and rubbed it gently. A minute later he sat up and began working down her pants and panties.
"No, Lonnie."
"Why not?"
"Just because."
"Fuck, I don't see why not, you've been playing with my cock and balls. I at least get to look at your cunt."
She sighed, but didn't stop him as he lifted her hips and worked her pants on down. When he got them to her knees she grabbed and held them.
"That's far enough. You can see plenty."
He put his hand between her legs and began to rub, and at once her breath came like a derailed freight train. He kissed her and got his finger on her little clit. It took only two twangs on it before she exploded. Her hips humped and humped and he pushed his cock toward her crotch, lay on top of her hand jammed up toward her pussy but never got inside.
Patty couldn't help but moan as the tremendous climax ripped through her. She had rubbed off before, but it was nothing like this. Nothing like having a boy almost naked right there beside you, ON TOP OF YOU! Nothing like having his cock PUSHING AGAINST YOUR TENDER LITTLE PUSSY HOLE!
She rattled again and again, gluing her mouth to his and shivering so hard she was sure she'd come apart. When her body at last gave up the last tremors, she put her arms around Lonnie, holding him on top of her. She wasn't sure she could speak. But she tried.
"Lonnie! Oh, ... just beautiful. I can't describe it, so wonderful."
He kept trying to nose his dick into her cunt. Her legs were too tight together.
"Darling, Lonnie, that was fantastic. You're so good, your cock just made me cum and cum and cum. Darling, I don't know how to thank you enough."
"Let me fuck you."
She pushed back where she could get his face into focus, then shook her head. "Darling you know I can't do that. I might get pregnant. Unless you have a pill for me or some rubbers."
He shook his head. "Just let me fuck you. You had your fun, let me have some."
"I'll rub you off?"
"No, damnit, I want to fuck you, inside your pussy."
She watched him for several seconds. "Darling, I just can't do that. One of my friends who's fourteen got pregnant. Not me. You can fuck between my legs. I'll part them a little and your cock comes up against my crotch and my cunt hairs, but not inside. It's wild. You'll like it. Watch."
She pushed him off her, pulled up her panties and then urged him back on top Her legs were spread about an inch apart.
"Like that?" he asked.
"Sure, I've done it once before in the dark. Try it.".
He went down over her, nosed his still rock hard prick down between her soft inner thighs and felt a little thrill. It might be fun at that. He wasn't even sure if he could cum after his afternoon with Mrs. Martin. That red-haired lady really got his balls churning. He thought about her as he began pumping into the small shaft between her legs. Gradually she tightened her legs until he felt the friction and it got him started. Before he knew it he had shot his wad into her crotch. She squealed softly as he came.
"I felt it, I felt it," she said.
He grinned and rolled off her, then showed her the last glob of cum oozing from his prick. He kissed her once more, then kissed each of her bare tits and laughed softly.
"Hey, Patty, you are some kind of girl, you know that?"
"I don't do this with just anybody. Can I be your girl? Kind of go together."
He shrugged. "I guess. We could meet here. How about tomorrow night?"
She shook her head. "No, you just come past and I'll come past and if the other one is here, we'll do something."
He kissed her once more than they pulled on their clothes. She left first, telling him to wait for five minutes before he came out. She put the magazines back in the old blanket and hid it in the shrubs.
When Lonnie got out of the bushes, he couldn't see the girl. He had no idea where she lived. He shrugged and ran home before it got summer dark.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning at the Martin home Terry got off to work early. He had told Leslie about his near accident the night before and she cautioned him to drive carefully. He felt like shouting at her to tell the kids around here to be cautious about running across the street, but squelched it and drove too fast to work. The only good thing he could think about in this damn down market was cute little Danica. Maybe she'd be in a sexy mood today and tease him.
Leslie got the kitchen cleaned up, ran the vacuum over the almost new carpet in the living room, and ran a load of washing through the machine. Then she looked at the pool, then the telephone. She shrugged, and telephoned Lonnie Burkhalt's number. His mother answered.
"Mrs. Burkhalt? This is Mrs. Martin, how are you this morning?"
"Just fine."
"I was hoping that Lonnie wasn't working today somewhere else. There were a few things I forgot to tell him to do yesterday when he was here. Take a couple of hours, I imagine."
"He's here someplace," Mrs. Burkhalt said. "Want to talk to him?"
"No, no. But if he isn't busy, would you ask him to come over about ten or so."
"Sure will, Mrs. Martin. 'Bye."
Leslie hung up and shivered. There wasn't a damn thing that needed doing in the yard. She just had an urge to love that boy again. She'd had enough psychology to know it wasn't right, and the doctors would have a word for it, but she didn't care. She'd heard that a stiff cock has no conscience. Well she could testify that an itching cunt had far fewer scruples!
She ran to her bedroom and put on her string bikini, the one Terry told her she couldn't wear at the beach or in anyone else's pool. It was almost all string with two little opaque spots over her nipples and a slightly larger one to cover up her crotch hair. It made her feel so sexy that she rubbed one breast. At once her nipple leaped upward, begging for more attention. Oh, yes, she was ready. She was so ready it hurt!
Just thinking about his sleek young body, so perfect, so tender, so hairless, made her gasp in anticipation. Who was it who told her anticipating sex was almost as good as actually fucking? She couldn't remember. She went down to the living room and paced back and forth near the front door. It was after ten. Wasn't he ever going to come? Her hand brushed her crotch and she shuddered. It was going to be simply delicious today. Outstanding! Suddenly she thought of another phrase, "Outstanding, and they are mild." What was that from? Some cigarette commercial probably, maybe from radio. That was a long time ago.
She rubbed her breast, popped it out of the bikini to see how easy it would be. No trouble, no trouble at all. Would she give her little man something to look at, to feel of, to chew on! She felt the wetness at her crotch already. If he didn't come now, she'd kill him!
The door bell rang. She jumped, so surprised, then so pleased and thrilled. She ran to it, pulled it open and smiled at Lonnie. He stood barefooted, bare-chested and with only cut-off ragged jeans.
"Hi. Mom said you had something for me to do?"
She laughed. "I sure have. Come in."
He stared at her. "Wow, that is some swim suit. Is it legal? I mean, I can see all of you except just--"
"Just my nipples and my cunt, right?"
Lonnie laughed, now he knew. He hadn't dreamed that he'd fucked her pussy yesterday, he had. He looked at her.
"I've never known a girl who talked as ... well, as dirty as you do."
"So enjoy it." She smiled and watched him. "Come here." He moved the three feet between them and stood in front of her. He was almost as tall as she was, not quite. Her tits were so close he shivered. She took his arms and put them around her and then moved hard against him, from her tits all the way down to her ankles.
"Like that, you little prick?" she whispered.
"Yeah, fuck yes." He giggled.
"You have fun here yesterday?"
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'll say."
"Want to have some more fun today?"
He nodded, hardly able to breathe. He felt his cock, hard ever since he left home, now pushing against her belly.
She moved her shoulder and hand and popped one tit out of it's net of string. He laughed, bent and sucked on her boob, then chewed it.
Leslie would have been willing to stand right there and be sucked all afternoon. She worked her hand between their bodies and pushed it inside his jeans. His cock was straight up, and she grabbed it.
"Caught you, you little fucker!" she said.
"Hey, wild!" he yelped. He tried to kiss her, then laughed. "Come on, let's fuck."
She pushed him away. "Lonnie, that's no way to talk to a lady. You've got to be sweet and gentle. You've got to pet a girl and warm her up and get her to want to fuck. It's not easy to talk a girl into spreading her legs. Don't get that idea, or it'll cause you lots of trouble."
"Sure, but you are ready to fuck, aren't you? You want it right now." His mouth caught hers and his tongue jammed inside her mouth melting any phony resistance she had left.
She nodded as he kissed her, and shrugged out of the string bra, then moved her hands down and unsnapped. the fasteners on the sides of the bikini bottom. She let the scrap of cloth and strings fall to the floor, and worked on his pants, getting the top button open then pushing down his pants until they both stood naked.
She pulled away from his mouth and turned toward the living room windows. The drapes were wide open and the curtains so sheer you looked right through them. She pointed and he understood. They went into the hallway and she grabbed him again, kissing him long, leaning against the wall pulling him up hard at her crotch, feeling him try to get his hard cock between her legs.
Then she pushed him away against the other wall and went on her knees. She kissed his prick and watched it bounce, then looked up. "Has anyone ever sucked your cock?" she asked.
"What? You kidding?" He shook his head.
She kissed his red glans and he jumped. She kissed it again, then began licking the sleek silkiness of it and he almost climaxed.
"Hey, what you doing that for?"
"Because I like it, I want to. Doesn't it feel good? Does it excite you?"
He nodded. She grinned then opened her mouth wide and descended on his prick, bringing half of it inside her mouth before she closed around it, and fought with it with her tongue.
Lonnie began to shake, then his hips pounded. He couldn't believe it. He'd heard about "cock-suckers" but thought it was just a dirty word. Now, she ... she had his prick in her mouth! His hips pumped forward. Damn, it was just like fucking her cunt. He pumped again, and she nodded. He felt something break loose in his belly and hoped it wasn't his cum so fast. He was just getting started. He felt his prick glancing off the roof of her mouth and heading for her throat. Deep Throat-sure, he heard about doing that! Then he couldn't stop it. He tried to pull out of her but she held him as if she wanted it, and he ejaculated right in her mouth! He couldn't believe it. Right inside of her pretty mouth. His cum! He shook his head as she held him tightly and kept bouncing up and down on his cock. He jolted his last time and tried to pull out, but now she sucked harder and harder, draining every speck of cum from his cock tube. She swallowed, came off him and kissed his softening prick.
"Oh, yeah, you taste good," she said, then kissed him.
He imagined that he could taste his own cum, but he wasn't sure. He felt drained for just a minute, then she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the back of the house.
"Let's have a swim. Best thing in the world after a good suck off."
"I don't have a swim suit."
"Neither do I," she said and pulled him out the back door.
He hadn't noticed before, but the back yard of the Martin house was almost entirely screened by fences, trees, or the other house. It made for a good skinny dipping pool. She ran to it and dove in, and he followed her, making a terrible splash with a belly whopper. He came up with a red stomach. She raced him to the diving board, then back to the shallow part. When he caught her, he grabbed her by both big tits and hung on.
"Careful, darling, they are a little tender."
"Why?"
She cocked her head and frowned. "I don't know. But they do seem more sensitive than yesterday. Maybe you chewed them too hard."
Her hands ran over his body under water, playing with his cock and balls. He grinned. "I like that."
"Good, you're normal." She floated on her back, and he swam up beside her and without touching her, chewed on one tit which floated out of the water. She giggled. He swam with one hand as he chewed and tried to get his finger into her cunt, but as he did, they both stopped swimming and sank slowly into the pool. Both came up splashing and laughing.
"I wonder if we could fuck in the water," she asked. She was holding onto him then as he treaded water. She had one hand firmly around his hard cock. She moved back to the side of the pool and let her legs float up. He swam between them and aimed his sizzling hot prick for her wet cunt hole. It took him three tries to penetrate, then it seemed so tight that he wasn't sure if he were in or not.
"Yes, darling, yes, push it in," Leslie crooned softly to him. He pushed harder and felt something burn, then he knew he was inside. She wrapped her arms around him and pushed away from the side of the pool. They floated for a minute, then sank again into a blubbering, arm-waving heap at the bottom of the water.
They came apart and pulled for the surface where they both laughed again.
He motioned for her to swim up to the shallow end and there she lay on the first step which was almost a foot under the water. He moved over her and using the same dry push technique, drove his cock into her.
She flashed a smile at him and groaned. "Yes, darling, yes, that feels so fine!" She let the water wash over her, laid her head back, letting it float, holding her breath with her eyes closed, feeling, just letting her emotions hold total sway. She had never felt more fucked. There was something about the motion of the water, the pumping in and out of even his small cock that stirred some ancient water-born intuitive urgings. To copulate, to mate, to join, to fuck and reproduce. Only she couldn't reproduce! What was the matter with her? No tipped cervix, no hangups on the tubes, no lack of binding by the tiny eggs in exactly the right area. Yet no pregnancy, either.
She washed all that aside and opened her eyes, the sun was out, with a few fleecy clouds, and she was being fucked in her own swimming pool by the lawn boy. Ridiculous, but wonderful, too. She felt him drive harder and sensed his chest over hers heaving. He was cumming. She couldn't help him much, no leverage. But she put her arms around his body and urged him on.
Lonnie was in a daze. He had his cock sucked, now he was fucking this big-titted grown woman in her own swimming pool. Fantastic. And nobody would believe him. Who could he tell? He slashed into her again and again. The water was cooler than their bodies and tended to make her shrink up, so her pussy was tighter. He wondered if there was steam coming from them, but decided there wasn't. How long had all this fucking fun been going on? He'd had two years of pounding his pud when he could have been messing around with a girl. Damn. But he was going to make up for lost time now.
Between little Patty and big-titted Mrs. Martin, he'd have all the tits and pussy he could handle. He felt the juices moving then. Driving as deep as he could each time. He sent a little wave of water ahead of his chest as he lunged forward. The water broke over her nose and covered her eyes. He drove again, and exploded. All of the good things in the world dropped into him and he blasted his second cum of the day deep inside her pretty cunt.
She groaned and rolled, tipping them off the step into the shallow end. They stayed under for a long time, and when they both pulled for the surface he had slid out of her cunt. She smiled and he smiled and they swam slowly to the other end of the pool.
"Let's get out and lay in the sun a while," she said.
He nodded and they crawled out of the water taking towels from a stack on a small table, and spreading them in the sun.
"This is a wonderful way to get my tits sunburned," she said, lying on her back looking up at the sun.
He scratched his limp cock. "I wonder if my dick could get sunburned? What do those people at nudist camps do, anyway? There must be a lot of sunburned asses around there."
She agreed with him but remained quiet, letting the sun soak into her body, warming her, making her feel sleepy. But she had no notion of going to sleep.
She found his hand by touch and pulled it to her crotch where she had parted her legs wide.
"Darling, I'm two cums behind you. My hot pussy wants to be rubbed off. Please."
His fingers found her, and drove inside her pussy, then retreated to her clit and began rubbing her.
"Darling put your other hand on my tit."
He did and rubbed it too, but concentrating on her snatch. Suddenly she felt ill-at-ease. She didn't know why. Because she was doing something wrong, even illegal? Damn, she wouldn't dare think what the law could do to her if it caught her. Or what Terry would say, and she would DIE before she would admit to Mother Martin anything about this little flyer. That's what it was, a little sex fling, only not with an adult male. What difference did it make? She was almost certain that Terry was fucking his secretary, what was her name? Danica. A little Jewish girl, she thought, or was she? He hadn't said anything, but the way he looked sometimes, and as tired as he was some nights. She could almost pinpoint when he was fucking for the second time the same day. He had to go to more exotic measures to crack his rocks.
She blinked, letting the feelings of her body take over, making her mind concentrate on the hand on her clit, and the head of steam it built up with every second. She was steaming again, at the boiling point, and she knew that she would trip over the top before long.
She felt the build, knew that her breasts were burning, that her hips were sliding on the towel, pumping up and down gently. She sensed a fresh squirt of cunt cream as it sprayed his hand and her thighs, but the final cum was a disappointment. Two or three shivers and a gasp or two and she was done. She reached down and stopped his hand and sat up.
"Not too good?" He asked.
"No, not one of the best." She tried to brighten. "Hell, you can't have a cunt burner every time. I've had my share."
"It always seems tremendous to me when I cum. I hope it never changes."
"Just hang onto that idea."
He moved and put his head in her lap looking up at her tits.
"You know, you have the biggest boobies that I've ever seen? No lie. Those tits are something. They make the Grand Tetons look like foothills."
"Thank you, Lonnie. That's sweet of you to compliment me to make me feel better, it truly is. But I'm alright. I just need a little bit of time to rest. Maybe I should have a nap. I don't know what time it is." She glanced at the sun. "Must be around noon somewhere. Let's go back in the house."
Inside she found her purse and gave him four dollars for the two hours of work. "No, you have to take it. Your mother will expect you to have made some money." He folded it and put it away quickly.
She looked at the kitchen clock. "Damn, almost twelve, and I have that 1:30 meeting. I guess I better get started getting ready."
"Can I watch?"
She smiled. "No, tiger, you better take your hot cock and walk it home. I'll be talking with you again. We still have some work, but probably not until next week, okay?"
Lonnie grinned and walked out the front door. Just on an off chance, he went a half block out of his way home to walk past the school. Patty wasn't anywhere around.
CHAPTER SIX
Leslie Martin stood in the living room, naked and watched the boy run across the street and down the block. She shouldn't have done that, damnit. What the hell was the matter with her? She pulled at her red hair and nervously twisted a strand around her finger, time and time again. Maybe it was because she got lonely. She had some club things and different activities. But it didn't take up all the lonely hours. Before she could turn, the phone rang. She ran to the kitchen and took it.
"Mrs. Martin? This is Dr. Lawrence calling. How do you feel today? Are you taking things easier?"
"Well, I'm going to try. It's only been one day."
"Never too early to get started. And that's what I wanted to talk with you about. I've got a new drug that I'm quite excited about. It's for experimental purposes only, yet, and must be used in controlled circumstances. But it's said to be a kind of mild tranquilizer and also is supposed to do something to the estrogen level in a woman's body to make her more susceptible to becoming pregnant. If you agree, I'd like to run a test on it with you."
"Experimental? Is it dangerous?"
He laughed. "The only danger associated with it is your hurting yourself when you go to sleep and roll off the couch. I assure you, it's entirely harmless. Now this afternoon is my day off and I thought we might try it. One of my nurses is going to assist me, and she suggested that we do it at my home rather than the office. If I'm down there I'd get called away constantly. I'm sure you can appreciate that. And I want to observe you and make notes during the two hours of the run of the drug."
"Well, it sounds all right. I said I wanted to do anything I could to get a baby. Maybe this is one of them. You said it was set for this afternoon?"
"Yes, at my home at 1:30 if you can make it. My nurse, Miss Thompson, will be here assisting me."
It was the second time he had told her that. He must not want her to think there would be any hanky-panky going on. She thought about it. Should she ask Jerry? No, he'd tell her to do what she thought best. She nodded.
"All right, Doctor, go ahead and set it up. I'll be there. Just give me your address."
She took it down and promised to be there by one-thirty, then went and had a shower and changed into a neat, white pants suit. She put on her makeup carefully, and left the house with twenty minutes to spare. She realized she hadn't eaten lunch, but brushed it aside. Five minutes before the appointed time, she rang the doctor's bell. The home was in an older section and the house was large and rambling. It looked expensive.
Dr. Lawrence met her at the door in his white coat.
"Mrs. Martin, I'm very pleased you could come."
"I just hope this does some good."
He smiled. "It's been known to help I understand, and at this point we try everything that looks good."
They went through a living room and into another room smaller in size which might have been called a "sitting room" seventy-five years ago. Nurse Thompson, in her whites, sat at a small table on which were two tablets and two glasses with liquid in them. She smiled and nodded.
"You remember Nurse Thompson from the office, Mrs. Martin. She'll assist us today. Now, if you'll sit here on this sofa, we'll be sure you won't fall off."
Leslie sat down, patting her not quite dry hair. She had the kind of hair that hardly ever needed a set and curled naturally if she kept it cut at the right level. She did, and she could swim and two hours later look beautiful with just a few brushings.
She looked at the table and its pills and glasses.
"Is that the magic potion?"
"Well, Mrs. Martin, we hope it is. You see, there's no way we can tell until we try it. This is not one of the fertility pills they had so much trouble with. It's perfectly safe, and there should be no aftereffects at all. None, that is, except the one with your estrogen. The literature I have says that you may tend to feel a little dizzy and disoriented after you take the medication. But don't let that worry you. It's best in those situations to simply relax and not try to fight it. That's why we're here. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, yes of course. Now do I take the pill or drink the potion?"
"I think the liquid would be best. It will have a faster reaction time." He looked at her. "Good, no earrings or dangling bracelets. Let's put your purse right over here so it won't be in the way."
He looked at Nurse Thompson. "The number one glass, Thompson," he said in a business-like voice of command. She handed it to him.
"Take this and drink it all, there's only four ounces there, but it does the job."
As she drank it he checked his watch. "Time: one thirty-seven, and twenty seconds." Thompson wrote it down on a pad. He stood. I'll be back in about five minutes. Try to relax. You may lie down and rest if you wish to. We're both here, remember and we won't let anything go wrong. Just try to relax."
He stood, and when he was behind the couch and Mrs. Martin, he winked at Nurse Thompson, who pretended she didn't see him.
When he was out of the room, Leslie frowned. "I didn't taste a thing. It seemed like plain water to me."
Nurse Thompson smiled. "I'll write that down. The first experiments everyone complained about the taste, so I guess we've got that solved."
Now, for the first time, Leslie looked at the nurse. She was a very attractive girl, nicely proportioned and with large breasts. They weren't supported very well, and as she watched the nurse move she realized the woman had on no bra. With that much breast she would have problems soon if she didn't get some support. She appeared to be young, not over twenty-one or twenty-two. She stood then, and Leslie saw how her waist nipped in dramatically. The nurse had said something.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you Miss Thompson."
"I only asked how you were feeling?"
"Fine, I really haven't felt anything at all yet."
The doctor came back then and said they should have one last instructional period.
"I know we talked about the best positions of intercourse for pregnancy, Mrs. Martin. The best remains the face-to-face type with the woman on her back. This simply allows the downward path of the sperm a better chance. This can be varied with the full-weight method, the husband supporting his weight on his arms, the full-length type, when the woman's legs are spread for penetration, then closed so the two bodies are touching full length, or the pillow under the woman's hips and her knees bent and pulled back toward her torso. The woman-above, face-to-face postiion is simply not suggested if you are seriously trying to get pregnant."
He smiled as he finished, but Leslie felt uncomfortable.
"Doctor, we went over this at least three times now. Please, no more." Did she slur her words just a little as she spoke? She wasn't sure. She looked at the lights and saw them begin to change color gradually, then pop back to white. Strange.
"Mrs. Leslie, let me be the doctor this time, all right? Now come into the next room where we have the next step in the experiment. I'm sure you won't mind this any." He gave her his hand and she did feel a little dizzy as she stood. In fact, she leaned on his arm as they walked into the next room, which seemed like a library. He sat her down at a small table and opened a book. It was beautifully illustrated in four color plates. When she looked closer, she gasped in surprise. The pictures were art renderings of couples in intercourse. They weren't quick line sketches, but fully painted couples, locked firmly together. The art was detailed and complete, nearly photographic.
She turned her face away.
"Oh, now Mrs. Martin. Really, I want to be sure you understand the various positions. Sometimes talking doesn't exactly complete the picture. Just look at the pictures and see if you notice anything different from what you and your husband do."
He turned the page and she saw in full page size facing drawings of an erect cock and a wet, ready-to-fuck cunt. She shook her head. "I don't want to look at these. What do they...?"
The lights came again, dozens of blues and greens and purples. She blinked, but they wouldn't go away. Her lightness of head was worse now. Dizzy, dizzy.
He flipped the pages and the pictures grew more exacting, showing a penis entering a vagina, a woman sucking on a cock, and one of a rear entry with the hard penis protruding from her rear area.
She shivered. What was happening to her? Why were they doing all this?
When the pages had all been flipped, she was swiveled around in the chair and looked at a wall. Was this doctor a quack? No, her mother-in-law had recommended him, he must be all right. But what was happening? Lights came up around the room and she saw more paintings, these life-sized on the wall, and they, too, showed couples in various positions.
She started to stand to get out of there, but her knees wouldn't work and she was dizzy again. In front of her she saw a heavy mat, and on it lay a naked couple. They began petting and fondling each other. Leslie tried to protest, but her tongue seemed thick and she couldn't make any sounds that were words. She stared at the couple and fell back against the chair when the man thrust his prick deeply into the woman who squealed in delight. As the couple fucked at her feet, Leslie's attention moved to the wall where the lights had lowered again and now she saw the flickering of a movie. Again the narrator said the interest of science must be furthered, and in this film they would show the best methods for use when a couple was trying for a pregnancy. The full-color film splashed on the wall.
It was more an art film than an educational one. The woman was white and had large tits and small waist. She danced, and a moment later a huge black man, naked, came in from the side. He swept the girl up and carried her to a bed where he flipped her over on her back and in one thrust rammed his huge black cock deep into her vagina. She smiled, then cried for more. The whole process was done again in slow motion, then once again as the big man entered her in a new position, with the camera within inches of her pussy.
Leslie screamed, but nothing came out. She closed her eyes, refusing to look at the picture any more, then she got dizzier and dizzier, until she thought she was going to fall off the chair. When she opened her eyes moments later, the couple at her feet were gone and so was the movie. Dr. Lawrence sat beside her, his hand on her knee. She turned the other way, and she saw that the nurse, Miss Thompson, was completely naked, and with a small start she realized this was the same girl who was in the movie. She blinked back the twinkling lights, and then she felt free, floating, as if nothing could hold her back.
She winked at Thompson and laughed, and this time sound did come out. She looked again at the doctor, and for the first time saw that he, too, was naked. Slowly she began taking off her clothes. She didn't want to be the only square in the group. She let the doctor help her, but it still was all in a mad whirl, a dizzy display of colors of many kinds.
Dr. Lawrence seems to know just what to do. He was talking to her and she looked, but he didn't have a hard-on yet. She thinks that's strange, but the whole world is upside down. She feels her body tensing and she knows she's getting hot. A gush of cunt cream stains her panties and she wiggles as she lifts up so the nurse can pull down her white pants, then the panties come off and she's as naked as the others.
The nurse lays down on the mat at her feet, and Dr. Lawrence lays down beside her. His hands fondle the nurse's breasts, and Leslie almost thinks his hands are on her. She breathes deeply, almost panting, and feels the cunt juices seeping into the chair.
Dr. Lawrence kissed the nurse, then bit her breasts until it brought gurgles of pain from her and left deep toothmarks that wouldn't vanish for hours. Then his mouth worked lower until his lips touched her thighs. Leslie groaned as his lips moved back to the girl's crotch. At the very moment her pussy lips felt the touch of Dr. Lawrence, the girl screamed and Leslie seemed to feel lips on her cunt as well. She was getting boiling hot. But she couldn't move. She tried to get out of the chair, but she almost fell. No, she would wait. She saw the girl on the floor playing with the doctor's penis, still soft, and gradually she brought it to hardness. He kept looking at Leslie, and she smiled at him, then motioned to him to come to her, but he shook his head.
When his prick was fully hard, he turned the nurse around, brought her up on her hands and knees and got in back of her, jamming his cock up her juiced-up cunt in a rear mount, slashing into her pussy deeply. Nurse Thompson groaned writhed in delight, and begged him to get in deeper. He shook his head. Then he came out of her and probed with his fingers and went in very slowly. He was in her asshole! Leslie groaned in anticipation. Nobody had ever ass-fucked her before.
Maybe Dr. Lawrence would ass-prong her, if .she asked him to. But how could she, when she couldn't even talk? She worried about it, but the bright lights flooded it out of her mind, as she watched him plowing in and out of the girl's tender asshole. He either came or stopped. She watched the man, and all the time he was fucking her, he watched Leslie. She winked at him, and he winked back. She motioned him with one hand to come get her, but he stayed with the other girl.
When he finished with her, he pushed her down and he came on his knees to Leslie. He began kissing her feet and worked up to her knees. She spread her legs as wide as she could, and when his lips touched her thighs, she caught his head and pulled it to her crotch. He seemed lost in it for a moment, then his tongue came out and stabbed into her cunt and she screamed. This time she had sound with her scream. The sound echoed around the house, and she slid out of the chair to the mat. The other woman was gone. Leslie panted there on the floor, reached for the doctor to come to her, but all she could see was his huge prick lowering toward her face.
She grabbed his legs and tried to bring him back down with her, but the long pole, so slippery and silvery in the faintly red light shimmered at her and turned again for her mouth. She knew what she was going to do then, and began to open her mouth, but he stepped over her and lay down beside her, pulling one of her tits into his mouth.
He chewed on her tit, then kissed her lips and fondled her red hair. He said something, but she couldn't understand him. His lips buried in her tits again, and then his kisses moved down her body to her twat, and she held her breath. But he went around it and spun on his ass, putting his feet back toward her head, and ducking between her legs with his head. She reached out and found his cock and pulled it toward her mouth.
"Damn," she said, and he grinned just as he kissed her cunnie. She yelped and opened her mouth to take his sticky sour prick. It had cum on it, or the girl's juices, she wasn't sure which, but she licked them off and swallowed and kept licking then gulped it down and began bobbing up and down, trying to make him cum in her mouth. She found his balls and milked them, then jammed one finger up his asshole and felt him start to get interested. His tongue was busy below, licking off her cunt lips.
Every touch shot her higher and higher. She wasn't sure how much more of it she could stand. Then he gave a heave and pulled out of her mouth. He turned her around and she saw Nurse Thompson in front of her. He lifted Leslie on her hands and knees and pushed a Thompson tit into Leslie's mouth.
Then he began poking his finger into her pussy and into her asshole. He had them both so free and loose that she hardly noticed when he rammed his prick up her cunt, stroked twice, then pulled it out and squeezed it into her asshole for a dozen hard rammings.
Those she felt. It was delicious, fantastic. She didn't realize that she had climaxed. The lights of blue and green went out just as she was shaking the final few spasms of a fine climax and she felt her whole body glowing like a fifteen cent sparkler on July Fourth. She heaved to one side and saw he was still in her. He stroked evenly, and she dropped to her elbows to increase the angle. He grunted and kept right on plowing.
Dr. Lawrence jammed his cock up her asshole again and grinned. Damn that junk sure worked like crazy. He knew he had her the first ten minutes with the pictures. She was fuckmeat from the start. And now the fun was just beginning. He would have her every way to breakfast before they were done.
He did a corkscrew into her asshole, and she didn't even yelp. There wasn't room enough in there to do that one, he knew, but she didn't mind. She must simply love to fuck.
Again and again he slashed into her but nowhere could he get up his nuts to blast off. He came out of her at last and rolled her over. He didn't have the heart to make her eat her own shit, so he motioned for a hot towel and wiped off his cock, then rolled the woman onto her back and sat astride her lovely belly.
"So you can't get pregnant, can't you? I'll give you a dose of sperm that will do the job whether you want them to or not." He grinned, knowing she didn't understand a word of what he was saying.
"Want a drag," Thompson said. He reached over and took the butt, dragged twice and held the smoke deep in his lungs for as long as he could, then blew it out and laughed.
"Thompson, we're gonna really have ourselves one hell of an afternoon. Almost as good as the day we made that film."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Leslie lifted up from where she lay on the mat and looked at them. She blinked. They were still two naked people with funny colored lights dancing around their bodies.
She still wanted more sex. She had to have more. He hadn't touched her clit. She groped for his hand, found it and pulled it between her legs, pressing it to her clit.
Dr. Lawrence laughed. "Yeah, now that just might get me worked up, a little three way." He caught Thompson by a tit and guided her to the floor. He put Leslie next to her but with her crotch even with Thompson's head. Then he lay down and jammed his still hard prick into the nurse. She groaned as she took it and grinned.
"Damned strange what some girls will do for a few extra bucks a month," she said.
Dr. Lawrence scowled. "A few bucks? That fucking pussy of yours costs me over five hundred dollars a month extra, besides your pay as a nurse, for which you work damn little. Now don't give me any more of that shit."
"Yeah, boss!" she said laughing.
He jammed into her hard again, and she moved a little, then settled down. Lawrence leaned away from her and pushed his face into Leslie's red cunt hair.
"Damn, she really is a real, goddamned redhead. You can always tell by cunt hair." He shrugged. "Well, not always, but usually. Fucking few women will dye their cunt hair. Look at that red pussy brush! That's enough to get my rocks off right there. Damn few red-haired pussies you see these days."
"Quit talking and go ahead and eat it," Thompson said.
Leslie vaguely figured out what was happening. She felt him moving her, getting her in the right spot, then it swept over her again, the blinking lights, the pounding headache and the feeling she had to go to the bathroom. She held everything inside and laughed wildly when his face went between her legs.
Minute by minute now she was feeling her body respond to his manipulations. He had strummed her clit for a dozen times, then when she got ahead of him he eased off and ran his tongue around her wet pussy lips. She rewarded him with a squirt of cunt cream right in his face. He backed off a little then drove into her red-hot pussy with his tongue.
"YIIIIIIIIIIIH," Leslie squealed, her hands rubbing his head, playing with his ears. He laughed at her and dug deep into her cunt again.
Leslie thought she knew what was happening, but the sweeping waves of colored lights, and strange music which had fascinated her from the very start pulled her mind away from the man at her crotch.
Then it would all be gone and she felt him again, getting hotter and hotter, poking his tongue deeper into her cunt, making her body shiver and rattle as he clanged her clit again and drove her over the top into a jolting climax that seemed to thrill him almost as much as it did her.
Thompson lay under Dr. Lawrence fully aware of what was going on. Calculating just how much the old doctor could take before he would pass out again and she could get into his billfold and lift a few bills. That man carried more money on him than he should, and it wouldn't be right not spreading some of it around.
He wasn't getting anywhere with his cock up her cunt, and she didn't feel like cumming just to make him happy, so she wriggled her finger into his asshole and expanded it to two fingers and began punching into him. He yelped and began swearing at her, but she knew he loved it. It had been the only way she had been able to really get his rocks off with any regularity lately. She maintained a steady pressure now and in a dozen more finger fucking strokes she had him panting and whining for release.
Dr. Lawrence grinned as he jammed his face into the red fluff. Damn if he didn't like red cunt hair. There was something special about redheads, he had always said that even though half of them were hard to get pregnant.
He looked up at the mounds of tits and between them saw her face. A beautiful fucking face, too, and enough tits to keep anybody happy. Damn, she was quite a fucking woman. He just hoped the damn junk worked long enough. Once he had been on this routine and the bitch came out of it about half an hour too soon, and all hell broke loose. She had demanded five thousand dollars cash on the spot, and he had to open his safe and pay her. It was too good a thing to let her mess it up. So she got paid off and spread her ass around someplace else.
When the finger went in his ass it was so gentle that at first he didn't notice it. Then he felt it and yelped.
"What the hell you doing, bitch woman? I say you could get your finger up my asshole?" She didn't reply, and he swore at her again. But she just ignored him. Then it started feeling good, and he didn't dare to stop anything he was doing for fear he would lose out entirely. He kept eating pussy and fucking hard and letting her finger ream him out. He chased it and chased it and this time he caught up. He pounded hard and somewhere deep inside him he felt the gates open and the damn jism started its downstream race.
"Goddamnit, I made it, Thompson. I'm gonna get there, I'm gonna cum!" He kept moving and talking and then pushed the redhead away and ground down hard on the nurse, pounding and grunting and pounding until he thought he'd go through her. The boiling cum spurted out in five salvos that left him so drained he didn't even want to roll off the woman.
"Damn, got there again," he said, and sat up. At thirty-eight he began to wonder how much longer he'd be able to keep on slapping it out twice a day. One of these days he'd find out and cut down to once a day. That would be a pisser when it came.
He shrugged and looked at Leslie Martin. She was tripping again. He shrugged and began to dress. He'd had the course for today. He motioned to Miss Thompson who dressed quickly and began to clean up Leslie. Then carefully, and with a minimum of cooperation, the nurse dressed Mrs. Martin. She rolled over a wheel chair and the two of them lifted her into it and then rolled her into the next room.
Now the hard part came, sitting there beside her until she came through the last phase of the trip and landed seemingly in the same room from where she had left. Dr. Lawrence grabbed a copy of a medical journal, and Miss Thompson was going through a copy of Playgirl when Leslie Martin came back to reality.
Leslie rubbed her head with one hand. The flashing lights, if only they would quit. Then she realized that they had. She couldn't see them now with her eyes closed. Her head even felt better. For a moment she was afraid to open her eyes, knowing that the chaotic world would be back with her. Then she knew she had to, and slowly she slitted one eye, then let it flip open.
Her other eye came uncovered as well and she discovered that she was in the sitting room, on the sofa, where she had first taken the liquid and waited for it to take effect.
"Well, it looks like our patient is back with us. You had a short dizzy spell there. We've been making notations," Dr. Lawrence went on. "As far as we can tell your reaction was just typical in the side effects. Let me check. You said at one time you were having a headache, the dizziness, and some flashes of white and then colored lights. Did we get it all down correctly?"
She stared at him. It couldn't be. What seemed like only a few minutes ago she had been naked on the floor with this man and he was eating her pussy, sticking his tongue up her cunt....
Leslie blinked, then turned to the other side and saw Nurse Thompson sitting beside her, the notebook and pencil in hand. She smiled at Leslie, who shook her head and let out a big sigh.
"Did the others say anything about dreams, fantasies?"
Dr. Lawrence's eyes narrowed, then he smiled and looked up at her. "I hope it wasn't too bad for you. Yes, there have been some patients who report a kind of sexual fantasy playout. But it can vary. Do you want to talk about it?"
Leslie shook her head. "No, it wasn't that bad, but I guess it was a kind of wish fulfilment, with all of the talk about sex and trying to get pregnant."
She paused, a strange sensation coursing through her body, the blue-tinged light flashed again right in the center of the doctor's forehead then faded. She relaxed.
"There may be some element of flashback for you, Mrs. Martin, but it's nothing to be worried about. This is typical with all of our patients. Say you had a dizzy spell with the original treatment. Sometime a day or two days later, you may have another short dizzy spell, but nothing like the original one."
She nodded. "Doctor what about the lights. I thought I kept seeing lights, bright-colored flashing lights, like one of those rock-and-roll light shows we used to see."
He turned serious. "I'm afraid you did have one of the more severe of the reactions. Get all this down, Thompson, we'll want it in the file." He turned back to Leslie. "Again it was a development from the high potency and the combination, chemically, of the drug and your estrogen makeup. There is no way to medically predict this." He stood.
Leslie stood, too, then lost her balance and almost fell to one side. The doctor caught her, one hand on her shoulder the other cupping one of her breasts. He moved her back upright again and dropped his hands.
"Thanks, I didn't think I was still that wobbly." She blinked, then smiled. "Thanks again for catching me. Is it all right if I go now?"
"Let me check your pulse." He took her hand, his fingers at her inner wrist. "Yes, yes, everything seems fine. Just take it easy for the rest of the day, and by dinner time you should be back to normal. And we hope the estrogen therapy works out."
"Thank you, Doctor Lawrence." She smiled. "I really do appreciate your help." Leslie went with Nurse Thompson to the front door and down the steps.
The nurse came back into the room and watched the doctor rubbing his crotch.
"You are really something, you know that, doctor? You pull off the neatest rape in history, and she doesn't even know it, and then you can't resist one last tit grab just before she leaves."
"She fell. I had to catch her."
"You catch a girl by the shoulders, not by the tits."
"In her case it was the handiest handle around. Now get out of here. I want to take a shower." He hesitated. "Yes, for a change I think I'll take a shower all by myself."
Leslie drove carefully on the way home, she didn't want any more flashbacks, especially that dizzy one. So she was only playing out a sexual fantasy! It all seemed so real. Like she were in a kind of fog, but still functioning. And still fucking. If it had been real, it was wild, absolutely wild. But how did you prove you'd been tongued off, or that you'd been ass-fucked, if he didn't ejaculate? You couldn't. At least she couldn't. She shook her head. This was ridiculous, thinking this way. He was a respected, and highly touted doctor. Her mother-in-law had recommended him. So she was thinking a lot about sex. The mind was a weird little gadget, and it played a trick on her.
When she drove into her spot in the driveway fifteen minutes later, she relaxed then got out of the car. It was about three o'clock. Up in the master bedroom she took off the white pants suit and hung it away carefully, but as she did she noticed a small stain on the front of it. It was nothing she could identify, and she had taken the suit right out of the cleaning bag. The more she looked at it the more it smelled medicinal. She shrugged, and took a shower. As she washed her crotch she felt a twinge of pain. There was a small tear around her puckered anus, the kind of little opening she got sometimes when she had an exceptionally hard stool. Now how in the world did she get that?
Leslie didn't worry about it. She had a long relaxing shower, then lounged on the bed for an hour reading before she got dressed and started dinner. She hadn't experienced a single flashback. The word seemed to have some bad connotations for her but she couldn't remember where she had read about them. Instead she cooked a fine dinner of marinated spareribs and all the trimmings.
Terry came home in a much better mood than he had left that morning. The market was up fourteen points, and he had done some profit taking selling of his own stocks. They even had a good game of backgammon that night, and he won forty cents from her grocery fund.
"If that had been downtown, I could have won forty dollars," he said.
Later that night she couldn't get to sleep. She thought of asking Terry to rub her off, but he'd been so good about seed planting her for so long, she resisted. Instead she got to thinking about her introduction to sex. She had been fourteen, and her tits had grown up before she had. She had the biggest boobies in her school, and the older boys always were hanging around, trying to tease her, and to touch them. She knew after the first time what they were after and neatly avoided them with two or three other girls on her way home. But this night she had to stay late to work on the yearbook. When she came out of the school everyone else had left. She had only a little over a half mile to walk, and began as usual, walking rapidly, not looking around, especially not looking at men driving cars. She was just at the edge of the park when a bike came up behind her.
"Hey, Les, that you?" a boy's voice asked.
She had turned around and saw Walt Clark, and she smiled and waved. He came up and rode beside her.
"You going to be my armed guard escort the rest of the way home?"
"If I have to."
"What do you mean by that smart crack, Walter?"
He laughed. "I meant I was hoping we could sit down and talk, get a little better acquainted. Like, I might want to ask you out."
"I can't have dates yet."
"Well, wouldn't do any harm to try. An afternoon movie or something."
She smiled. That would be nice, a real date. They were still next to the park. She walked off the sidewalk to a big tree that had low hanging branches, and sat down next to the tree in the grass.
"Well, are you going to sit down and talk or not?" she asked.
"Sure, sure." He parked his bike and sat down, not too close, and she saw his face stiff, unsure. She giggled.
"What's so funny?"
"I just realized for the first time that boys are bold and sassy only in a group. Get you alone, and you're just as shy with girls as girls are shy of boys."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah!" she said smiling.
He moved closer. "Then just don't yell rape when I kiss you." She didn't move. His head came closer to hers and stayed there. Their lips were an inch apart, but it seemed like he couldn't move. She leaned in, touched his cheek with her fingers and kissed his lips.
"Wow!" he said, and sat back dazed.
She frowned. "You're teasing me. I hardly felt a thing."
"No lie?"
She nodded.
"Then you need to be kissed again, longer. Okay?"
She didn't move as he bent toward her, and this time he made it all the way, his touching hers, his arm going around her shoulders and pulling her in closer. This time she closed her eyes and felt a stab of pleasure dart through her. He came away from her and opened his eyes.
"Well?"
"Yes, better. But not like ... well not like I thought it would be." He still had his arm around her and she didn't mind.
"Leslie, maybe we should try an open mouth kiss. You know, we kiss and then we both open our lips just a little."
She shrugged. This time she leaned toward him part way and when their lips touched she opened hers. At once she felt an electric shock as his tongue darted inside her mouth. She wanted to gasp, but then it began to feel all squishy and soft and good, and she didn't want him to stop. Then his tongue was gone, and she began working her tongue toward her lips, then through into his mouth, and she felt something rumble deep inside her and she wanted to scratch way down low.
He let go of her as their lips parted and she sighed.
"Now that is more like what I think a kiss should be," she said. She realized she was sitting in this deserted corner of the park, with her back against a tree and a boy's arm around her shoulders, and she wasn't scared.
"Maybe we should try that again." he said.
She watched him and a small smile edged around her mouth.
"You liked it too?"
"Oh, wow, yes. I'm all ... I mean I sure did."
She leaned toward him this time, and as their lips touched she realized her breasts brushed his chest, but then her mouth was open and she gave a soft little sigh as his tongue came in. She wanted him to go right on kissing her. She really didn't feel when his hand touched her breast, or closed around it gently. When she knew it was there, she wanted to tell him to stop, but she couldn't, not without ending the kiss. She let it stay there and felt the warming of his hand, then her breast felt much warmer than it should, so hot it was tingling, and his hand seemed good there.
When he broke off the kiss, she didn't lean back very much and he left his hand over her breast.
"Leslie, that's good, that's just fine. Once more."
She had a feeling she shouldn't, but the softness in her body urged her on and everything was feeling so warm and wonderful. She let him kiss her again and this time as their lips met she felt his hand moving on her breast. It was outside on her blouse and her bra was under that, but still it made her feel warm and wanted. She pulled away from his lips and put her head on his shoulder. His hand kept moving gently on her tit.
"Oh, Walt, I can't tell you how nice that was." She sighed. "I mean, a girl isn't supposed to say when she feels that way, but that's so sexy, it makes me feel just so super sexy."
His hand rubbed a little harder on her tit.
"But you shouldn't have your hand there. Please move your hand, Walt."
He moved her face back toward his and kissed her again, his tongue moving quickly inside her mouth, and this time his other hand found her lonesome breast, and now he rubbed both of her breasts. It was a long kiss, and Leslie had felt like opening her blouse for him, but she knew she couldn't. Anyway, she had to get home or her dad would be out driving up and down the streets.
She ended the kiss, took his hands in hers and moved them to her lap.
"Walter, I think you'd better walk on home with me now. My father will want to meet you."
Just as Leslie was remembering the startled, wary expression on Walt's face so many years ago, she saw blue-and-green lights dancing around the ceiling of her bedroom and she groaned softly. It was happening again, a flashback to her session with the doctor. Tears crept into her eyes as she fought against the sensation until she had battered it down, and then when the lights were gone, she drifted into a troubled, dream-filled sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next morning Leslie woke up tired, slightly angry and feeling like she'd had a year's hangover. She got breakfast for Terry and sent him off to work with less than a smile. She wasn't sure what really happened at Dr. Lawrence's home. If any of what she thought she had dreamed was true he was a very sick doctor. She shook her head. No, that couldn't be, Mother Martin had recommended him.
She cleaned the house and talked for half an hour with her mother-in-law on the phone turning down a job as chairman of the "go-getter" committee for the local arts benefit auction, and at last settled down to reading the morning paper. That was when the doorbell rang. She got rid of him in a rush, some quiet little man selling vacuum cleaners. He'd better quit the business. If he couldn't sell pushover Leslie, he couldn't sell anyone.
Leslie picked up the paper, then threw it down. No, she didn't want to read. What the hell did she want to do? Run down the street after some thirteen-year-old boy? The memory of two times with Lonnie scorched back and burned her. That sure as hell had been a mistake. What was she thinking about? How could she be so careless. The fact was she had a two-million dollar husband by the tail, she should do absolutely nothing at any time to jeopardize that asset.
Asset! She was talking like Jerry did now. Her only real asset was her own ass, her cunt, her pussy and two big tits. She had met Jerry in the first place because he told a buddy he wanted to meet the redhead with the big tits. She patted her boobies but continued to pace.
So what was she supposed to do, take that art course? She had lost all desire for drawing and colors and pigments. Maybe if she couldn't grow her own baby, she could adopt one. Mrs. Martin would be thrilled with any kind of a grandson, whether he were a true blood line or not. She wasn't that stuffy.
Leslie thought about everything she had heard about adopting a baby. The cost was of no importance. Legally it cost about $1500 she had heard. Illegally you could get a few-days-old baby for from ten to fifteen thousand. She thought Jerry would be happy to have any kind of a kid, that would get his mother off his back. She paced the route again, through the kitchen, out the back yard, around the pool and back into the living room. She would talk to Jerry about it tonight, then in the morning she could talk to the local agency, and then Phoenix and maybe even Los Angeles. She felt better.
Now, what else did she have on tap to do today? Clean the bathroom? She frowned and went into the kitchen and brewed a new pot of coffee, then sipped a cup as she sat at the table.
The door bell rang twice before she let it penetrate into her conscious thought. By the time she got to the door the person was almost down the walk. It was the paperboy.
"Hello," she called. He turned, flashed a bright smile, and came back to the door with his receipt book in hand.
"Thought I missed you, Mrs. Martin. Hope I didn't disturb you."
He was a nice-looking kid, probably fourteen, and bigger than most of them. She shook her head to his question. "Come on in, I'll have to find my purse." He stepped inside and she closed the door. A little tremor ran through her cunt, and she felt her tits warming. Her body had to be kidding. He was just the paper boy after his money. But another jolt of pure desire drilled down through her, and she smiled at him. He was just a little taller than she was. "I think I left my purse down this way. Why don't you come with me and save some time?"
She led him to the master bedroom and when he got inside she closed the door, feeling her whole body warming, panting. She had this kid in her own bedroom!
She picked up her purse from her night stand and was glad she'd made the bed when she got up. He looked at the bed, then back at her and tried to keep a straight face. She smiled at him, then she looked inside her purse.
"It doesn't make you nervous, does it, being in my bedroom this way with the door closed?"
"Oh, uh, no."
"What are you thinking about?"
"Uh, what a nice ... what a nice place."
"You're not thinking if that's where I do it with my husband? If that's the bed where we make love?"
He laughed. "Yeah, I guess I was."
"Your name is Stan, isn't it?"
He nodded.
"Stanley just how much do you know about girls?"
"Plenty."
"So you've had the course on sex education, Stan. Have you ever kissed a girl?"
"Oh, yeah, lots of them."
"Ever been slapped?" He grinned. "Twice.".
"Stan, tell me now, have you ever petted a girl's tits?" As she said it she began opening the buttons on her blouse. There were only four.
He. looked away from her, laughing at the question. "You really tie a guy down, don't you. Yeah, I've played with a couple of breasts. That's when I got slapped."
She laughed this time and opened another button. "And Stan, have you ever fucked a girl?"
He frowned now, looked over at the door.
"Stan, don't misunderstand. I'm not holding you prisoner. If you want to walk out the door and take your paper money, just tell me, and you can walk right out." She opened the last button and left the sides of the blouse covering her breasts.
He nodded, staring at the narrow streak of pale white skin showing between the yellow halves of the blouse. Stan swallowed. Then shook his head. "No. No, Mrs. Martin, I've never fucked a girl."
"Don't you think it's about time, Stan?" She held out a hand to him. Slowly he reached for it and when their fingers met she pulled him closer to her. "Go ahead, Stan, look at them. They won't hurt you."
He grinned, then blinked and lifted back one flap of her blouse.
"Holy cow. That's all real! I thought maybe that you...." He stopped and lifted back the other half of the blouse and as he did she pulled the garment off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
He shook his head in amazement. "Jesus...."
"Do you like my tits, Stan?" His glance went to her face for a moment, then back down to her chest.
"Oh, damn right. Yes! The biggest, most beautiful pair I've ever seen. Now those are tits!"
"Thank you, Stan." She waited a moment. "It's all right if you want to touch them."
Again he looked up to see if she was teasing. He saw she wasn't and reached out a hand. His fingers brushed her tit and pulled back.
"Did I hurt you," she asked a laugh in her voice. He grinned and touched her again, then curved his hand around her tit and laughed. "Jesus H. Nice, but this is great!" He looked up at her as his other hand touched and then fondled. "You don't mind?"
"Stan, I like it. Remember this about tits. Girls protect them, and are careful who they let play around. But once a girl is in the mood, then she wants you to touch them, to undress her tits, to play with them."
"No lie? It makes you feel good? Feel sexy?"
She nodded. "It's part of the preliminary, the warm up to what comes later."
"What's that?"
"Stan, that's just whatever you want it to be." She took his hand and led him to the bed where she sat down, and gently pulled him down beside ', her. Her hand fell on his leg. He looked at her. "It can be just what you want it to be, Stan."
She moved toward him slowly, then he saw what she wanted and he reached out and kissed her lips. He kissed her the way he had kissed girls before, straight and hard. She came away from his lips and put his hands back on her breasts.
"Rub, them darling, make them get hot. They need you to help them right now."
He rubbed and sat there amazed at his good luck. What a set of boobs. Keerist, wait until he told the guys at the paper shed about this!
Her hand on his leg moved upward now and he watched it. When it came to his crotch it explored until it found his balls, then his stiff prick above them, pointing at his belt. She rubbed it. "Oh! Damn! Careful! It's gonna go off!" She moved her hand and pulled his shirt up. "Take it off, darling."
He did and then she lay with him on the bed, pushing her tits at him, playing with his chest, rubbing her hands down to his flat belly. She unbuckled his belt and opened his pants before he realized what she was doing.
"Darling, pull your pants and shorts down so I can have something to play with.
He nodded, did it, and when his cock popped out of his shorts, she gave a little cry of joy.
"Oh, so beautiful, perfect! So hot and ready." She caught it and played with it. Before she had his prick in her hands ten seconds, he was panting and his hips started to pump. She held his prick and let him squirt into her hand.
"Oh, damn!" he growled after he finished, panting with the cum. "Now I messed up the fun."
She shook her head. "You've got lots more, Stan, wait and see. Now we both can relax and really have some fun."
She bent and pulled off the skirt she had been wearing and the nylon panties.
"Stan, kiss my tits."
He grinned and bent to the work. She sat up so he would have more to work with and he went crazy. Between mouthfuls of tits, he laughed. "I sure ain't never had any girl who would do this for me before."
"That's because you've been messing around with little girls. A woman likes it!"
She had been playing with his cock, getting it warmed up again. She massaged his balls and ran her finger over his little asshole until he yelped.
"You like that, right?"
She pushed him off her breasts. "There's more to me than just tits. Look around, see if you can find anything else interesting."
He laughed as he moved down to her legs and spread them wide.
"Real live pussy?"
"The one and only, see if you can find bottom."
He shook his head in wonder and began examining her crotch.
"Jeeze, so much hair, cunt hair, and it's all red. You must be a real redhead."
"Unless I dye it to match my head. Of course I'm a real redhead you snob."
He touched her cuntlips and Leslie moaned. His face turned to hers quickly but saw she was smiling. "Yeah, that's good, try it again."
His fingers began working on her then, petting, poking in and out of her cunnie, and once he touched her clit. "Hey, do that again," she commanded. It took her a moment showing him what to do, then she spread her legs and lifted her knees for a good rub off.
There was nothing in the world right then that she would rather be doing. It felt so good, so right. She didn't care if the kid was only fourteen, she was showing him something no other woman had bothered to do, she was a teacher educating him in the ways of women and cunt and fucking.
The build had been so gradual that she almost lost it in the thrill of helping a young boy to his first real woman fuck. Now she realized her breasts were burning brightly, her nipples standing straight and tall as beacons. Her hips began to jiggle, then to rotate in a little dirty dance that meant it was going to be a fine one.
When his finger hit her clit at just the right angle it set off her fire, and she felt the long steam whistle roaring as she came down the tracks. Her body shook violently, as if a big dog held her, then she gasped for breath until the boy thought he had somehow hurt her. When the spasms at last rattled through her body and left her crushed and quiet on the bed, the boy stopped rubbing her and sat up.
For a frightening moment he was afraid she was dead. Then he saw her breathing again, and he grinned and went back to playing with her tits. Never in his life bad he seen such big boobies.
He looked down at his hard cock and wondered what it would feel like to nose it into her. He pushed her legs wider apart and kneeled between them, then he aimed his cock for her cunt and moved forward. He hit her leg and slid forward. She groaned and did nothing to help. He tried again and this time he came closer. On the third try, his cock hit her hole and edged in a fraction of an inch, and she popped her eyes open.
"What the hell?" Then she remembered and slapped him on his ass. Stan drove ahead then, and his whole prick vanished right into her.
"Hey, I hurt you?"
She laughed. "Hurt me? Hell no. You're inside my cunt. Now the idea is to pull it out and jam it back in. The big guys call that fucking."
He snorted and began pumping into her. He had never felt anything so wild in his life. It was like a wild horse was pulling on his prick. She was doing something inside her cunt with muscles, because on every stroke it felt like a dozen. Whatever it was it was wild.
As he fucked, he got his hand in front of him and grabbed one of her tits. Laid out flat that way she still had more boobies than all the girls' tits he'd ever seen put together.
Stan kept pumping and groaning. Why couldn't this go on forever? It was just right. His hot prick slamming away inside her superheated cunt hole. His jism way back there somewhere, just waiting for the signal to come out. He tried moving from side to side with his cock, to see how big her hole was, but it didn't make much difference. Her hips were moving now too and she tried to kiss him. He wanted to reach down and get her other tit in his mouth, but then he couldn't slam into her snatch the way he wanted to.
"Damn, you might learn to fuck yet, if you get a little practice," she said.
He laughed and drove it in harder. "I might get some practice every day if you're always feeling this sexy."
Then she whacked him on his ass.
"We fucked every day, how in hell would you get your papers delivered?"
"Oh, I'm morning, remember? I deliver in the morning while you're still sleeping, then I come around in the afternoon after you've woke up and slam my big cock into your good old slippery cunt."
"My, my, for a cherry boy you sure talk a good fuck."
He was lunging at her then. He hadn't thrown the switch but someone had, and now he was blasting for everything he had, wanting to plant his jism so far down in her hole that none of it would ever come out.
"Oh, goddamn!" he shouted as his first load came unleashed. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" He kept pressed in after the last lunge and felt the last bit of his cum squirt into her pussy. She clamped her arms around him so he couldn't get off and relaxed.
"Now that was a good fuck, Stan honey. Even for your first, it was a good cum."
"So what do we do now?" he asked.
"Rest, you little prick, so we can both have strength to get up and get dressed before my husband comes in here with a shotgun and blows us both to hell."
That scared him, and he shook. She laughed and calmed him, telling him Jerry never came home until after six. That seemed to calm him down. She let him off her five minutes later and watched him as he sat up and sighed. His cock Was ready to get hard again. But she was tired. One good fuck today was plenty.
She lay on the bed on her stomach watching him dress.
"You want a shower first?"
He shook his head. "I'm behind enough now collecting. My bill is here, and I still haven't got all my money."
She went to her purse and gave him a ten dollar bill. When he reached for change she caught his prick and pumped it twice.
"That's all the change I need, Stan.
"Thanks." He bent and kissed both her bare tits, then put his face between them and shook it, hitting tits on both sides. She laughed.
Ten minutes later she had dressed too and they stood near the front door.
"Hey, I really enjoyed that. I mean, thanks."
She brushed it aside, kissed his lips softly. "My pleasure. You get all horny some time about a month from now, you come around collecting again, but be sure it's in the early afternoon. Maybe we can discover something we forgot today."
"Wild, wild! He kissed her lips, then pushed his hand down the front of her blouse and fondled her tits. "Keerist, I'm never going to forget these two sweethearts."
She caught his balls in her hand and held them tightly.
"Hey, easy."
"Stan, you like your balls, right? Not a word about this to anyone, not your best friend, not anyone. Understand? If I hear even a whisper about you and me, I'll hire somebody to find you and slice your balls right off. You understand?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. But you'll let me come back?"
She smiled. "Well, I'll see how good you are at keeping quiet, and in a month, we'll see."
He kissed her once more, bent and kissed both tits through the blouse and ran out the front door whistling.
CHAPTER NINE
It was just after eleven-thirty the next day that Leslie stepped into the Bird Cage Restaurant and went to the bar. She usually didn't drink before lunch, but this was to be a special lunch. She had a martini, then one more and left the bar for a table she had reserved overlooking the city. It was just after twelve when her guest arrived. The head waiter brought the girl to the table. Leslie had never seen her except at a distance.
"Mrs. Martin," the girl asked.
"Yes, Danica, please sit down."
The two women stared at each other for a moment. It was like a classic battle when the two combatants stare at one another trying to evaluate the opposition and psych them out before the bell rings.
"It's very good to meet you, Mrs. Martin."
"Is it, Danica? You look nervous to me, and just a little bit scared."
Danica lit a cigarette, then snubbed it out when she saw the other woman wasn't smoking.
"Mrs. Martin. I told you there was no need for us to meet, that there was no 'trouble' at the office as you put it. So I am curious why you insisted."
"It's simple, Danica. You are my husband's secretary. You are the seventh secretary he has had in the past four years. You could be the seventh secretary I've had him fire. Do I make myself clear?"
"Only that you like to fire his secretaries. Why would you do a thing like that?"
"For various reasons. In your case because you make love to my husband in the office during working hours and after."
Danica didn't move a cell in her body. She stared deeply into the other woman's eyes. "If you can prove that, why aren't you in a divorce lawyer's office."
"I don't believe in divorce, Danica, not when five million dollars are involved. That's not something I let go of just because Jerry is fucking his secretary."
"If you're so sure, why don't you have him fire me today?"
"Danica, Jerry is a complicated man. He's moody, he's bright, brilliant in some cases, and I usually don't go around slapping his hands because he's naughty, and taking his toys away from him. The first three secretaries he had were under my control when I worked at the firm. The fourth and fifth were simply not up to our quality standards and they were let go for having breasts too large and brains too small."
Danica sipped the drink she had ordered. Leslie drank half of the glass of milk that sat in front of her.
"That's only five, what happened to the sixth one?"
"She decided she wanted to have the baby anyway, so she was helped out financially and sent to Los Angles."
"Are you trying to frighten me, Mrs. Martin?"
"No, nor threaten you-that's illegal. What I am sincere in doing is to inform you of your situation, make sure you are genuinely aware of all of the ramifications of your position, and then offer any help I can in assisting you in your decision."
"That means you want me to quit?"
"If you wish to."
"And there could be some kind of a separation payment if I chose to?"
"A year's pay has been mentioned, about ten thousand dollars."
Danica laughed. "Mrs. Martin, you haven't done your homework. Didn't Jerry tell you that I had been a photographer before I came to work at the business? Evidently not. I'm an expert at available light pictures. That means I can take a picture without flash in a coal mine at midnight and turn out a print. Jerry's office is large, well equipped, and it also is very well lighted. I have all of the protection I need, Mrs. Martin." She drained her drink.
"Look at it this way. You have five million by the tail and won't let go. I also have a very good hold on a big chunk of that money, and I won't let go. You try to fire me, and I'll ruin the firm with a scandal that won't stop. As you know, the stock market is a very sensitive business. A lot of business is done on 'trust' and 'confidence' and 'in confidential relations.' If you try to have me fired, or demoted, I'll slap a rape charge against Jerry that will blast Martin, Martin and Martin right into bankruptcy. And I've got plenty of pictures to prove whatever I want to tell in court." She lowered her voice.
"Mrs. Martin, have you ever tried it sitting down in an office chair with the girl facing the man? Or how about on that deep pile rug next to the floor to ceiling windows, with the sun setting just at the horizon against a backdrop of red and gold and maroon clouds? That one turned out to be a true salon print except for the couple fucking in the foreground."
Leslie Martin caught her breath for the fifth time in the last minute, and steadied herself with both hands on the table. She pushed back, dropped a ten-dollar bill near her milk glass and walked as carefully as she could toward the door. Even so there was a hint of panic in her steps. She made it to the door and outside, where she almost fell. She caught herself and marched to the parking lot and got in the car. She sat there for a moment in the superheated car, then started the engine and felt the cooling breeze of the air conditioner.
The shock wore off slowly. She had guessed about Jerry's relations with the girl, but knowing the truth always hurts more. A dozen plans flew into her mind. She could hire someone to burgle the girl's apartment, find the pictures and negatives, all the film. But Leslie knew the girl was smarter than that. Three or four or a dozen prints and negatives probably rested safely in a bank safety deposit box, perhaps under a different name.
Other plans drifted through her mind like the stars, but nothing would work except killing the girl. Even then the truth might come out. The firm, the money would evaporate.
When Leslie decided she was composed enough to drive, she backed out of the parking lot and drove around town. Not sure where she was going, but carefully obeying all traffic laws.
It was after two o'clock when she parked and discovered she was two blocks down from a high school. A few kids were strolling by after summer school classes. One long loose-jointed boy came by and grinned at her. She ignored him, but it sparked an idea. Quickly she took off her jacket and threw it in the back seat, then unbuttoned one more button on her soft white blouse and slid to the passenger's side of the car. When the next boy came toward her she got out on the sidewalk and stood looking at her car. The boy came, slowed and glanced at her. The white blouse was filled and overflowing with her breasts. He glanced at her then at the car.
"Hi," he said. "Hey, anything the matter?"
She ignored him for a moment, then looked up. "What? Oh, hello. Yes, I can't get it started. I stopped here for a minute, and now it won't start."
"Hop in and give it a try, let me listen to it. Maybe I can help." He lifted the hood while she slid over into the driver's seat. She left the seat belt unfastened, left it in its holder. The belts had to be connected on this model before it would go.
"Give it a try," the boy said.
She turned the key for starting it, and nothing happened.
"I tried it. What's wrong?"
The boy came to her side of the car and stared down at her, his view letting him see half of each of her tits. He paused a minute, then motioned. "Try it again."
She did, and he laughed.
"Nothing really wrong. On this model you have to use the seat belts. They have to be fastened. Hook up the belt and then try it again."
She did, and the car started on the first crank as she knew it would. She looked up with her brightest smile.
"Oh, fine. That's just wonderful. I'm an idiot for not thinking of it. Let me pay you for your help. I was about ready to call a tow truck.
He held out his hands in protest. "No, no way. Glad to help." He looked back at her breasts. "It was my treat, really."
"Well, let me give you a ride home, that's the least I can do."
He hesitated, shrugged. "Okay, I do live quite a ways. I missed my ride today." He ran around the front of the car and got in, closing the door. The buzzer yelped until he got his seat belt fastened.
"Where to?" she asked.
He pointed back the way she had come and she drove away, circled the block and headed down a main avenue. She saw a drive-in ahead. "I don't even know your name."
"Arlin."
"I'm Leslie. Say, Arlin, I missed lunch, would you mind if I stopped at that drive-through up there for a Coke and a burger?"
"No, no, that's fine."
"Can I get you something? Hamburger, Coke?"
He protested again, but she ordered a Coke and burger for him and when they came, they both ate as they drove. They went past his turn off and she missed it. She looked over and shrugged. "We can turn around and go back. Or, if you don't mind we can go for a little ride. I haven't been out this way before very much."
He shrugged and she saw him glancing at her partly exposed breasts. "Suits me. When I get home, I'll just have to study anyway."
She drove another five miles into the dry hills, then turned off on a little flat place that overlooked the highway.
She parked and left the engine idling and the air-conditioner on. She turned toward the door and slipped another button on her blouse so it opened, now he could see more of her braless tits. She turned back toward him and laughed.
"Arlin, I just feel so stupid about that seat belt, I mean I usually don't forget that. I must have been flustered."
He was looking at her chest and she ignored it for a moment.
"Arlin, is something the matter, didn't I...." She looked down and stopped, saw the offending button, and shook her head. "Oh, sorry, that damn blouse is always doing that." She watched him. "Arlin, I didn't mean to embarrass you."
He laughed. "Leslie, looking at beautiful woman's half exposed breast doesn't embarrass me. I love it."
"Why do men like breasts so much, Arlin? I mean, in Africa women go bare breasted all the time, and they don't get raped or assaulted."
He laughed. "It's a whole different world. Up here we glamorize the old boobs. But I admit I am moved by breasts. Tits, just the word excites me. And yours, god, but they are beautiful."
"Why, thank you, Arlin. You're so nice I'm going to do a treat for you. She popped the tight buttons open one by one. "Arlin, go ahead, take a look." The blouse hung open, the sides draping her nipples, but pulled back exposing a deep valley and curve of each breast.
"Damn!" He looked up. "You mean it?"
She nodded. "Please, Arlin."
His hands pushed both sides back and then grabbed her boobs. "Christ, what tits. He fondled them. "You know I got a hard-on just looking at them when they were covered up." He humped out his crotch. "Look at that dandy!" She could see the long stiff rod just under his pants. Her hand reached for it, and he grinned.
She reached over and kissed him, jamming her tongue into his mouth. When she came away, he was bruising her tits.
"Arlin, I'm getting so sexed up I could pop. Would you please fuck me?"
"Goddamn!" he said and pushed his hips toward the roof of the car. "Fucking right!" She pulled open his zipper and tried to get his cock out. It tangled in his underwear. He pulled it out for her, and she groaned at the size of it. Twice the size of Lonnie's, and thick as an oak limb.
"Damn, you don't fool around do you, right to the prick."
"Darling Arlin, it's hard to fuck without a prick."
His hands kept warming her setting her breasts on fire. She shivered. "Arlin, that feels so good, the way your hands touch me, just wonderful. And I love your cock, it's rugged. You've fucked before, haven't you?"
He nodded. "But never ... Wow. Never with a body like yours. Tits, I just can't believe them, so big and beautiful. And I've got my hands on them!"
"Why don't you try kissing them instead." His eyes came up, surprised. "Goddamn, could I?"
"If you don't I'm gonna piss right in your face."
He laughed and bent, kissing one tit slowly, then moving to the other and kissing it. His tongue played with her nipple until she thought it was going to wash off. Then he gulped half of one big boob into his mouth and groaned.
"I just lost some cum."
"Don't worry about it, there'll be some more there when you need it."
She had seen the one glob of jism ooze out of his cock. It wasn't a real climax, just blowing out the tubes. She bent and kissed his cock and it jerked.
"Goddam, you just kiss my prick?"
She kissed it again, sucked the purplish glans into her mouth.
"Shit!" His hips pumped forward and she took all he wanted to thrust into her mouth, then he settled back to the seat. "Hell, but you are some woman."
She pushed lower in the seat but couldn't lay down. She realized it had been fifteen years since she'd fucked in the seat of a car.
"Darling, I wish I could lay down."
He frowned, then pushed open his door. It was the one most away from the highway. They had seen only two cars streaking by on the roadway below. He opened the door and slid out, then caught her feet and pulled them out the door until her knees bent over the edge of the seat.
She grinned. "Oh, yes, Arlin. It's so much better laying down. "You ever fucked on a real bed with your shoes off?"
He shook his head. "But I'm willing to try any time you call me."
She slid past it, settled on the sloping car seat and held out her arms to him. He lay down on her, crushing her, his cock jamming into her belly. She loved it.
"Yes, darling, just lay there a moment, I love to feel the weight of you pressing down on me. Makes me feel secure, and wanted."
He licked her ear, then kissed it. "Baby, you are wanted. I want to jam my cock right up your hot little cunt and make you screech for more. I want to fuck fuck, fuck you until you can't take any more."
"Oh, yes, darling, yes!"
He lifted up and looked around, checked the highway. Then he got his hand between them and began stroking her pussy through the thin little panties. He heard her panting, felt her wiggling under him. Damn, he had her! He could fuck this big broad!"
He took one more look, then came down fast. "Sit up, quick. Car's coming, and I think it's a highway cop."
She pulled her blouse back on and buttoned it just as the highway cruiser scattered dust of the turn off and coasted to a stop ten feet away. Arlin had pushed his cock back into his pants and leaned next to his door. The trooper got out of the vehicle and walked up slowly.
"Afternoon, ma'am," he said touching the bill of his cap. "Anything wrong?"
"No, not a thing, officer. I just wanted to stop and rest a minute, and look down over the country."
"Fine, be surprised how many rigs have car trouble along here." He looked at Arlin.
"Hey, you got the souped-up engine in that cruiser, the police special model?"
The officer frowned. "I guess so, son. Never asked." He turned, then looked back. "Just take it easy back on the road. I'm in no mood to pick up any wrecks today." He nodded, walked back to the cruiser and spun gravel getting back to the highway.
As soon as he got in the car, she reached over and pulled out his prick. That had been close. But she had to have him inside her. She had to!
When he saw the police car hit the main highway below and drive toward town, Arlin breathed easier. "Christ, that was close. If I hadn't lifted up to look...."
She shushed him and brought his head into her tits which she had bared again. "Darling, love them, love me!" She was still as hot as she had been, with no loss of desire at all if anything the postponement had made her hotter. She bent and sucked on his cock, bouncing up and down until he yelped.
"Hey, wait." Furiously now, he pulled at her skirt and panties, getting them down and off one leg, pushing that leg outward. He opened the passenger's side door again and by the time he got back in the car she was laid down, her legs spread, her juicy, rumbling pussy waiting for him.
"Shit!" he yelled and settled down between her thighs. He probed and probed before she reached down and guided him to her pulsating, cum-hot cunt.
"Darling, get it in me. Push, yes, that's it, jam it in me hard, I need to have you deep inside me. Yes. Oh, shit, but that is the way! Yes, yes! Now dive in deeper, deeper! Oh yes, but you're a good fucker!" Leslie surged away into a blue-pink fuzzy cloud and drifted as his prick caressed her heat-soaked vagina. She loved the sledge hammer attack he made, pounding harder and harder at her. She felt her own body respond with more heat, more loving, and she wanted to lift her legs around his back but there wasn't room.
She felt it coming, a climax, a vaginal climax! The more she urged it on, the faster it came. Her hips writhed in unison with him now as they banged and slammed against each other, pelvic bones grinding, chest caressing chest, lighting fires in her tits again.
Arlin had known she was going to make a pass at him ever since she pulled that dumb stunt with the seat belt. No broad was that dumb or she'd never get a license to drive. Now he knew she wasn't dumb, it had been a smart move to pick him up and it had worked. But she didn't need that. One look at her tits surging out from that blouse had been enough to hook him. Fuck but they were huge boobies.
Fuck, yeah! That's what he was doing. His second goddamned fuck, and this one the best. Shit, but did she love cock! He lifted up and looked around, saw no cars, no dust trails, so went back into the saddle and fucked her hard. He knew he couldn't hold out much longer. But he made it last as long as he could. Slamming hard into her with every stroke, he tried to come out a different direction each time and it caught her attention.
"Yes, that's wild, darling, wild. Do it some more." Then Leslie soared over the top of the giant falls in a rubber raft and she was falling, moaning and crying, as the pounding climax caught her at last and flung her down the torrent of water and air, and foam and spray breaking off. Then she was part of the spray, saturated air, drifting toward the rocks where she hit and clung, then dripped slowly down again until there was no more rock under her and a huge drip came surging loose and she was falling again.
The climax tore her from side to side, mixing her up, sending her into a wave of crying and moaning. She rattled like a freight trail on an unused siding, then it passed and she sighed and opened her eyes.
The boy was quiet inside her. His "moment of death" was past, too. She lay there panting, saw him push up from her and look out the windshield, protecting her, protecting him.
She wanted to stay like that for an hour, let him shrink up and fall out like a withered stem, but she knew she couldn't. Neither could he. He lifted off at her touch and took tissues from the dash box and handed her two. She wiped herself and threw them out the window, got two more and stuffed them, then pulled up her skirt, ignoring the panties.
She looked at him and saw the smile still on his face. He grinned and shook his head. "Fantastic," he said.
She laughed and saw him push his limp prick back into his pants and zip up.
"Arlin, thank you very much. This has been fantastic for me, too. It's a long story, so I won't tell you. But all I ask is that you don't try to find out who I am or contact me. And don't tell anybody about this.
"Oh, I wouldn't, I...."
She shushed him. "Arlin. I know you won't. It was just a fling, it can't ever happen again, so let's remember it for the sweetness and perfection it was."
He nodded.
CHAPTER TEN
Leslie went home, parked, and sat in the car for five minutes before she got out. She was trying to figure out what to do. What to do about Danica first. That little bitch! She was fucking Terry and didn't deny it. In fact, she said she even had proof of it came to a rape case.
Leslie shuddered. A scandal would break the firm faster than a three hundred point loss. She got out of the car and went inside the house and took a long shower. Then she put on her tennis dress and tights and went for a walk. She went barefoot and meandered. Once she came close to a tennis court so she detoured. She could come up with no solution for Danica except the final one, and she wasn't ready to start that. She wasn't going to kill Danica. That of course was the only solution, the final solution, as Hitler had said. She shivered. What was she turning into, even thinking such a thing?
She walked faster, jogged for a block and stopped, more tired than she had been for a long time. Leslie took her bearings and turned, walking back toward her home. At least she had decided not to do something, so that should be progress. It was a real Tijuana stand off. Danica had a pistol to Leslie's head, and Leslie had a pistol at Danica's heart. If either of them fired, they both lost, so neither of them would risk it. She would simply have to live with the fact that Terry had not just a woman on the side, but a full time mistress who was living off him, and who intended to do so until Terry himself tried to dump her, and even then, Danica would hold on, she had the photographic evidence to ruin Terry.
Leslie sighed. That was settled. Now what? What about her and her itching cunt? Why did she want to get it poked so often by young boys? Why didn't she pick up some guy at a bar the way the rest of the women did, or tackle the milk man or the dry cleaner man when he came around? She didn't know. Maybe it was deeply psychologically rooted in her childless state. A baby would solve her problems. Give her something to do with her hours, something more beneficial than the committee for the arts, or the symphony guild. She sighed and shook her head. She wouldn't look at another boy, at another male for a month. She would service her husband if he wanted it, but she wouldn't force herself upon him. She would be pure and pristine, and maybe that would help her conceive. She snorted. Now that was dumb.
She got home barely in time to fix dinner, and it wasn't the best, but Terry was very easy to cook for. He was a meat-and-potatoes man. A full time cook at home when he was growing up had foisted all kinds of exotic dishes on him and turned him against most of them.
Terry had to go to a special meeting with his father and two of the bankers in town about the chances for starting a new housing project. Martin, Martin, and Martin was branching out. Maybe.
Three times that lonely evening at home she started to the phone to call Mrs. Burkhalt, but each time she stopped. No. She simply would not put herself to that kind of a test again. The lawn did need mowing and trimming, but she simply couldn't risk it. She got a book from the shelves, Advise and Consent by Allen Drury, about Washington politics, and settled down in her favorite chair. She was still reading at eleven-thirty when Terry came home.
The meeting had been a success. The firm would put up over two million in matching funds with the bank and launch a new subdivision north of town.
"We're incorporating under the name of Martin Developers, Inc., and I'm the president and presiding officer. I'll be doing the overall coordination on the project. We hope to have houses started before the first of the year."
"Darling, that's wonderful." She grinned at him. "And you look as pleased as a kid with a new toy."
"True. The market is interesting, challenging, but it's sterile, only paper. Now a housing development means progress; it means people, it means building something that will last for maybe five hundred years and change the face of the globe. It's damn exciting for me."
The next morning Terry was still full of enthusiasm about his new baby. She brushed against the refrigerator with one breast and felt a stab of pain. That was strange. The boy yesterday must have squeezed her harder than she had thought.
By ten o'clock, she had her housework done and phoned Mrs. Burkhalt. Lonnie was playing football down the block, but he'd be over in half an hour.
She definitely would not go swimming. She would not go into the yard, she would be dressed and cool when he came. He would do the lawn and nothing else. She changed into a pair of old jeans, put on a bra and an old shirt and tore into the job of cleaning the bathroom. That would be as unsexy a thing as she could be doing when Lonnie came. The door bell bonged.
At the door she opened it just a little, the screen was locked.
"Lonnie, I'm cleaning this morning. You better mow the front and back and edge the front with the trimmer. Be sure to save the grass and leaves to mulch around the flowers along the sidewalk and the back. When you've mown it all, start the sprinklers going, okay?"
He had on the cut off jeans and a sweatshirt. He nodded. "Sure, the usual. You got it."
She closed the door and heard him going around back to get the tools. She gave a big sigh. She had looked at him and hadn't come unglued.
It took her an hour to finish in the bathroom, then she put away the cleaning things and went to the master bath and looked at herself. She was splatters from head to toe. She needed a shower now. A moment later she had stripped and was about to reach for the shower handle to warm up the water when the bathroom door opened and Lonnie walked in, holding his stiff cock in his hand.
"Party time," he said, grinning.
She tried to reach for a towel to cover herself, but he caught her hand.
"Lonnie, you get out of here right now!"
He shook his head and reached for one of her big hanging tits. "No way, I'm gonna leave, pretty cunt, not until I've got my rocks off at least once. That's part of our deal. I don't go shooting off my mouth about how you like to fuck underage kids, and you take care of my hard cock."
She looked at him, his prick so stiff, so reddish-purple. A momentary surge of hot blood coursed through her but she slapped it down.
"No. Now get out of here or I'll call the police."
"Shit!"
"I will. I'll say you broke in on me and tell them what you said. They'll believe me. Your stiff cock will be all I need to convince them."
"No way, not when two of us testify against you." He swung the door open farther, and a kid she'd never seen before stood there, his eyes wide as he stared at her body.
"Goddamn," the boy said.
"Lonnie, no!" Leslie screamed. He jumped forward then, his hand over her mouth, his other arm around her pinning her against the towel rack.
"Get her," Lonnie shouted to the other boy. "Grab her tits and play with them. She just takes a little warming up, then she'll be all fucking good."
Leslie fought against both of them. She twisted and heaved and turned, but she couldn't escape the two hands. They grabbed her breasts and squeezed, pinched and rubbed. The more they massaged her the less she wanted to fight them. She couldn't deny the hot blood that surged into her breasts, making them so tender she winced now each time the boy stroked her. Lonnie's hand left her mouth and she didn't scream. She wanted to. God, she wanted to! But somehow she didn't. His hand pressed between her naked legs, and she moved. Why, why did she do that? She knew she couldn't play with these boys. Damn, two of them. Two at the same time? She rejected it. That was bad, evil, she could go to prison for that. All she wanted was just to be left alone.
"Oh, god, Lonnie!"
She trembled. He was finger fucking her, with two fingers, and she shook so that she almost fell apart.
"Lonnie, don't." She was begging him.
"Hell, Mrs. Martin. Jim's never even seen a naked lady before. He wants some play time. You don't mind, do you? He can look at you and play around. You want to, you can even fuck him. He'd really like that."
She shivered and all at once she realized Lonnie wasn't holding her anymore. The boy called Jim was playing with her tits and her hands were free. Slowly she reached down and grabbed each boy's pulsing, throbbing cock. She stroked them back and forth, then sighed.
"Hey, let's move out to the big bed, it won't be nearly so cramped," Lonnie said.
Leslie fought it in her mind. Once she went into the bedroom, she was lost, hopelessly and completely lost, she knew that. She wouldn't go! But when the first faint pressure came on her hand urging her out of the bathroom, she went with them. One small boy with each hand, towing her naked body out the door into the big room. One after the other, then stripped out of their clothes and fell with her on the king-sized bed, laughing, poking at her tits, running their hands between her legs.
The new boy, Jim, began shaking.
"Oh, shit, here it comes. I'm gonna cum sure as hell!" Before he could move Leslie had dove for him, grabbed his bouncing cock and pulled it into her mouth. She bounced up and down on it and the kid yelled and shot his young cum into her mouth and down her throat. He shivered and shook for three or four minutes after it was over and she left his prick and held him in her arms.
"That's fine, Jim, you did just fine. I just sucked you off so it wouldn't go to waste. I do it all the time. It's okay, Jim, you didn't hurt me." As she was comforting him, she knew Lonnie was busy. He had wormed one hand under her leg and was pumping his finger in and out of her cunt.
She let go of Jim and turned to Lonnie. "You little fucker, what do you want to do now?"
He scratched his head. "What about an asshole fuck?"
She laughed. "You really think you have a rod big enough to do it?" He nodded. She reached over and jacked him off a few strokes, then lay down on her stomach and spread her legs. "Go ahead," she said.
"You got to tell me how to get it in."
"You're so smart, you figure out how."
She felt his finger at her asshole then, working inside, stretching it. He spit directly on her pucker and she yelped, then he spit on his cock, too, and began working it into the slippey hole. Damned if he wasn't going to make it! She yelped when he moved too fast, then laughed.
"Hell, you little shit fucker, I guess you are going to get in. Just pump away all you want to, I'm cleaned out in there."
She felt him slide in farther and it thrilled her in a way a regular vagina penetration never did. This was different, probably highly illegal, and fun! She laughed as he ran against her ass buns.
"Hey, I can't get in any farther."
"Oh, yeah, there is that, the old bumpers stop you. So enjoy what you've got."
Lonnie felt her move under him and jammed harder. What a wild feeling! He had this big woman down again, him and Jim, asshole fucking her. Goddamn, now that was something. He'd have to tell Patty next time he saw her. Maybe she'd let him get in her butt. No, he decided not to push his luck with the little cunt. He'd go slow with her and keep screwing around with her all summer, maybe this winter, too. They'd have to find someplace out of the cold and weather.
He forgot the other girl and pumped hard. He'd never shot a load into a woman's ass before. He plowed in and out, realizing that the stroke was short because of the ass. No way to go around it. He just kept plugging away and watched Jim move up to her tits. He had her lifting up so he could touch them. Jim was going to have a ball this afternoon.
For a minute Lonnie forgot he was pumping into her ass, and he stroked harder and she yelped. "Easy, damnit, easy!"
He slowed and then ground it a little from side to side and the old prick began to shoot. It was a wild cum, no real build up, no tight and tingling sensation and then the final blast as it escaped. This one wasn't as much fun, but he did cum up her asshole. That was wild.
He pushed off her, and she pointed to the bathroom.
"Go wash that prick off ten times with soap and water. Do it right in the bowl, but get him clean or we'll all smell like shit all afternoon."
He ran.
She looked at Jim who had cupped one tit.
"You ever kiss a tit?" she asked him.
He shook his head. She pushed one out at him, guiding his mouth around it and then laughed. "Bet you've never fucked either, have you?"
His head wobbled negatively on her ripe watermelon breast.
"Then I'm gonna get me another cherry today. This is crazy. She let him suck a while, then rolled on her back and pulled him between her legs. "Hey, Jim! Wantafuck?"
He nodded.
"Then get up there and act like it. My pussy is just waiting for your big hard cock."
He nosed down and almost hit, but edged past. She put her hands down and drew back her cuntlips and on the next try he plopped right in the center of her juiced up hole. She welcomed him with a squirt of cunt cream, and he groaned as he jammed it up her pussy.
"Am I in," Jim asked.
"What do you think?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I'm in. Now I kind of, you know, like jack off?"
She grinned and he began pumping it in and out.
Lonnie came back and watched them. He was hard again. She looked at him and he sat down beside her.
"I turn my back, and you're fucking somebody else?"
She laughed. "How long has it been since you've been sucked off?"
He grinned. "Too long. She leaned to one side and turned so he could sit beside her and then went down on his little boy prick. She felt wild as it went into her mouth.
SHE HAD TWO PRICKS IN HER BODY AT ONE TIME. Goddamn!
Leslie sucked and bit the little prick, making it dance a tune. They were at a bad angle, so neither of them could get a good stroke going. But she knew just' having her mouth around his prick would make him cum. She thought of the shit fuck he had just done and shrugged. So what? It was her shit, and anyway he had washed clean. All she smelled when he came up to her was soap.
She relaxed and let the one boy pump his cock into her cunt and the other one slide his in and out of her mouth.
For just a moment she didn't feel sexy at all. It had all been so fucking mechanical. But then when she thought what was actually going on, that she had two cocks in her body at one time, she got so hot she almost burned up. Her tits were two mountains of fire. Her whole body seemed a burning coal, ready to sear and burn anything that came close enough to touch her. She felt her hips move, felt her body react. Now her hips were pumping up against Jim, making him move faster and faster.
She began a new bobbing motion on the little hard prick in her mouth and he got the message and worked against her until she thought she would go wild with the crazy sensations.
Her whole body reacted again, and now became cold as an ice cube. She pounded and thumped and worked to get one or both of them to climax. Then the little prick down below in her cunt somehow slid across her clit, and the one triggering sent her off into the wilds of the fantastic kinds of climaxes she had been experiencing lately.
This one was all blue-green, with Cadillacs swinging up to her door to let out elegantly gowned girls and men, all in formal clothes but the tits and pussies of the girls all were exposed, bare. The men's crotches were uncovered too and they seemed strangely matched. In the big ballroom she saw the orchestra, all women and all naked, and the rows of dancers, all men and all clothed except for their crotches and all had hard cocks from watching the orchestra. Leslie glided into the center of them, wearing only one ostrich feather from her hair and they fell down and worshipped her. Then they picked her up and passed her from hand to hand until she was at the very edge of the universe and when she looked down she saw only the terror of nothingness, of lonliness and the blackness of despair. She begged them not to, but they threw her off the edge and she dropped, screaming for the bottom, only to find that there was no bottom to despair and loneliness, and that blackness was its handmaiden.
She felt the shattering tremors pass through her for the last time and knew what the boys were thinking.
She motioned for them to go ahead and almost at once they both climaxed at the same time. She swallowed the cum from one and took the other's deep inside, then rolled them away and they all rested, trying to gain back their strength. Before the boys could move, she was off the bed and into the bathroom. She put on the clothes she had taken in before and came out to see the boys getting their pants on.
She stared at them both. "One word about this and I'll hire a Mafia killer to come around and chop your pricks right off, you guys understand?"
They both nodded. "Lonnie, you get out there now and finish mowing and edging the lawn. You do a damn good job because this is your last work from us. It's too dangerous having you around the place. But no hard feelings?"
He grinned and waved, then came back to the bathroom door and patted both of her tits.
"I'll never quite believe it," he said as he went back to the lawnmower.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Leslie took her shower, and had a cup of soup for lunch, before the phone rang. She wanted to let it ring, then she could get a quick nap before Jerry came home. But she picked it up. Never could tell when it might be important.
"Mrs. Martin? This is Dr. Lawrence. How are you feeling?"
"A little tired."
"Mmmmm, that may be good. Would you have time to come by the office this afternoon? There are some tests results we want to show you from the last smears we took."
"Yes, I guess I can come, if you really think I should."
"It's the sort of thing that doesn't work very well over the telephone."
"What?"
"I'd like to do a couple more tests, and I can't do them over the phone."
"Oh, well, how about two o'clock, would that be all right?"
"Fine, we'll see you then."
She hung up the instrument and sighed. She really didn't want to go anywhere. Maybe she was feeling a little tired, a little washed out. Yeah, but maybe it was just a little fucked out that she felt. She changed clothes and got ready to go. This had better be good.
She got to the office just before her appointed time, but Nurse Thompson was watching for her and led her at once into Dr. Lawrence's private office. It held a desk, a couch, some bookshelves and a fine stereo outfit with soft, gentle music playing on it.
"Doctor will be right with you," Nurse Thompson said, and she left, closing the door.
Leslie sat down, picked up a copy of a magazine, saw an open heart operation in progress and closed it quickly. This wasn't your average reading rack. She was into an article in Psychology Today when Dr. Lawrence bustled in.
"Well, well. You do look a little tired, Mrs. Martin. I'll have to check on your iron intake." He smiled, then sat down at his desk.
"Mrs. Martin, may I be frank with you?"
"Yes, please."
"All right. How much of a sexual purist are you?"
She frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"This sort of thing. Do you object to sex outside of marriage? Were you shocked by wife swapping? Have you and your husband ever talked about mutual sex with known partners other than each other? Are you above having an affair now and then that ends in sexual intercourse? In short, and dropping into the venacular, do you fuck around."
Leslie laughed. "That's about the last thing in the world I expected you to say, Dr. Lawrence." She sighed. "I guess I'm more sexually progressive than my mother's generation. If I knew my husband had a woman on the side, I wouldn't rush out and confront him with it and divorce him. I imagine if I were in the right mood and the situation and the man was right, I wouldn't absolutely rule out extra-marital sex."
"Delicately put, Mrs. Martin. Last week you said in my office you would do 'almost' anything to have a baby. Did you mean that?"
She frowned jumping ahead of him. "You mean would I submit to some type of artificial insemination, or to some sexual intercourse in order to have a child." She lifted her brows. "I'd have to know a lot more about it, but I think that every woman in my situation has thought of it. But who do you approach. How do you say to a man, I just want you to give me some sperm, I don't want to get intimate, just have intercourse so I can have a baby? And who would one approach, a friend, a relative, or a stranger?"
Dr. Lawrence nodded. "I can see that you have thought it through, and very well, I might add. You may be aware that I have something of a reputation in this area for helping women who thought they never could get pregnant, to conceive."
She nodded.
"I've earned that reputation by results, not standing on ceremony or rigid principles. Now, I have on record a man whose sperm count is the highest I've ever tested. He's willing to do such a service in a pleasant, emotionally fulfilling way, yet with scientific correctness. Does that interest you?"
Leslie took a deep breath. Why not? It would be no different than being fucked again, and maybe this time...."It would have to be at the very height of my fertile period, and then how many times, seven or eight?"
"We recommend nine days in a row, and in this case there would be two different donors."
"I just might try it. Where would the ... the injections be made?"
He laughed at her use of the word. "Here at the office. It would all be quite secret, quite proper, and with as much or as little romantic mood setting as you wanted."
"And you've used the same 'medical techniques' with other woman?" she asked.
"Now, Mrs. Martin, you're starting to sound like a detective. Let's just say that we know the procedure works in many cases, that it can't be guaranteed, but that there has been a high incidence of pregnancy."
"I just don't know, if the trouble is mine, what would different sperm around do? How could it help?"
"What could it hurt, Mrs. Martin?"
She had been turned around, when she looked back at him, Dr. Martin was standing, close to her, towering over where she sat. His pants were down and his hard, throbbing prick loomed a few inches from her face.
"Mr ... Dr. Lawrence!"
"Leslie, I'll be one of the donors. I just wanted to show you one of the injectors. Do you realize what I do all day, Leslie? Right, I poke into women's cunts and assholes and check their breasts and reproduction tracts. It takes one hell of a beautiful sexy woman to make me get a hard-on. But I've been hard as hell ever since we started talking. How about your first injection right now? Hell, mine are free."
He reached for her breasts, and she let him touch her. His prick was the biggest thing she had ever seen, at least ten inches long and so heavy and thick she knew it would never go up her cunt. She stared at it as he pushed his hand under the top of her blouse, caught one of her tits.
"Leslie you have the most beautiful tits I've ever seen, just magnificent, great proportions, so sleek, faintly nippled, beautiful, and your body is remarkable, let me show you how my prick can set you on fire."
He moved, dropping to his knees, unbuttoning her blouse, spreading it aside, kissing deliciously both of her breasts, reveling in their size, their shape.
"Just beautiful, Leslie, the most gorgeous body I've seen in many years, perfect! Hips just right, legs lean and sexy, belly flat and marvelous. And your crotch is beauty without equal."
He caught her hands and lifted her to a standing position, then led her to the couch. He sat down and then urged her down beside him. He took her hand and curved her fingers around his big cock, then he pushed her blouse off and hunted for the zipper. It slashed down and he pulled her skirt and panties free. Quickly he kicked off his pants and rolled against her on the long, flat couch.
"Leslie, you're so beautiful it makes me hurt, makes my cock strangle." He kissed her and drove his tongue into her mouth. She let it move in, let it spark fire in her, but strangely it was as if someone else were being seduced. She had a faint glimmer of something before, but she couldn't remember it.
He drove his hand between her legs, spreading them, coming up toward her promised land.
"Why?" the one word slid out of her throat, and Leslie looked at him. "You must fuck that Nurse Thompson any time you want to. Why me?"
"You're different. You've got red pussy hair, a real live redhead. I dig them. I dig you. You don't mind, do you?"
She lay there a moment. It didn't matter if she minded or not. His hand was on her cunt now, working it around and around, trying to get her hot, then not caring if he did or not. Somehow she couldn't get warmed up. She couldn't think of Dr. Lawrence as a fuck partner. He pushed her legs aside carefully and went between them.
Gently he lowered his big cock into her crotch and positioned it directly in front of her cunt. Then he began to push. The small point of him went in and stuck. He pushed harder and she knew he was big, nearly twice as big as Jerry's cock. She winced as the pressure kept up, as her muscles spread and spread and then stretched some more.
"God, it's big," she said breathing deeply.
"But good," he said, as he pronged harder at her. He came out a little, then pushed back in. Twice more he did that and some of her natural juices flushed over his prick. They both felt it at about the same time and he drove hard into her. The lubrication was enough, it eased him inside with a clean stroke and Leslie climaxed. She didn't know where it came from. The booming climax thrilled him and he lay quiet while it roared through her. Her teeth chattered and she humped up at him as her ass played a little dance on the couch. When the shock waves passed, he grinned at her.
"I do that to a lot of women. The size of me gets them so sexy they can't wait." He stopped talking then and drove ahead, pumped out and slid in again. A dozen strokes and the pathway was lubricated again, but the very size of him drew half her cunt in with it when he stroked home.
"Did I tell you that your body should be done in marble somewhere. Your mons alone is worth a statue. Honest to god." His hips jerked and he moved again, working against her. Slowly her body came alive and ground back the compliment and a few moments later they were locked in a panting, grinding, churning fuck fest. His breath panted and roared at her. He pulled his knees up, driving her thighs straight up and her legs high over his head. He shot a dozen strokes that way, then lifted his knees, pushing her thighs higher yet, back toward her chest. At last he hooked her legs under his shoulders and she saw he was almost standing on his knees straight up, and she was bent in half, double, as he charged down on her legs with each stroke.
The combination of the angle and her great body tipped him over the crest of the hill, and he jolted his pent-up cum into her stretched cunt. Four times he bellowed as he shot his wad, and then he was through. He pulled out of her so fast she blinked a moment wondering what had happened. Before she could sit up, he had his cock wrapped up, his pants back on, and he was buttoning his shirt.
When his white coat was on and he was presentable again, he helped her get dressed. He put her panties in her purse, and when she was ready for other eyes, he led her out of his office and into examination room B.
"Get on the table, Leslie, I want to examine you again."
She frowned. "Why?"
"I'm not sure, but I may have some good news."
CHAPTER TWELVE
She begs off to go to the bathroom, and when she comes back, he examines her. She says that her breasts are a little tender, but nothing to worry her.
"What about this morning, did you feel a little upset, like your stomach was a little queasy?"
"A little, but nothing that I haven't felt for the past two or three days. I've had a touch of the flu, I think."
He nodded. He pulled up her skirt and checked her crotch.
"Leslie, you know anything about cervical mucus?"
She shook her head.
"I do. It changes color at certain times, and not during the menustral cycle. Yours has changed. What about your urination? Is your frequency up and is it a little irritating when you perform?"
"Yes, how in the world did you know?"
"It happens that I'm a doctor, or hadn't you noticed. You are now about ninety-five percent pregnant. I'll tell you about the other five percent in three weeks."
She leaned up and kissed him. "Doctor Lawrence! That's fantastic. When? ... Then if you can tell now, that means Jerry hit my bird during that long seed-planting experiment!"
Lawrence nodded. "Looks like the kid beat me to it. I would have shelled out to get a few more sessions like that last one." He sighed. "Maybe next time you're trying to get knocked up, you'll come to your doctor first."
She had pulled on her panties and adjusted her clothes. As she stood next to the doctor she pushed her chest out and rubbed against his arm. "Here's one last little present. From now on I'm going to be a very busy girl. I've got a baby to feed and grow, I've got a room to get ready, and a grandmother to tell and try to keep her feet on the ground."
"Oh, Mrs. Martin," Dr. Lawrence said. "Be sure to give my best to your mother-in-law."
"I will, thank you." She turned and hurried out the door, almost ran to the street and did run for her car.
Back home Leslie picked up the phone and dialed her husband's private line. It went directly to his secretary, bypassing the company switchboard.
"Yes, Terry Martin."
"Oh, darling, I got right to you. I just wanted to call and ask how the homebuilding thing is going."
"You nut, it's still all on paper, not even on paper yet, but we're getting it put together. That's why I had to answer the phone. Danica is out getting some more research material for me."
"Good. I just wanted to say hello." She had been going to tell him, but decided to wait until dinner. A nice quiet dinner with candles. "I'll see you when you get home. Dinner about six?"
"What, oh, yes, six will be fine. I may bring some work home. I haven't done that for five years."
"'Bye Darling."
"Yeah, 'bye."
He hung up the phone wondering what was on her mind. It was almost as if she were going to tell him something, then decided not to. She was one hellofa woman. Not that he was comparing her with Danica. Danica was different: she was just pure, raw sex. He went back to his desk work, trying to figure the lay of the land from the maze of concentric lines on the topographical map.
Ten minutes later Danica came in with two more books.
"Damn, these got heavy," Danica said putting them down on his desk. "I hope you don't want any more."
He saw a touch of sweat on her brow and couldn't ever remember seeing her sweat before.
"Thanks, Danica. I'll use those tonight. Now if you can get that rough draft of the agreement and the letters knocked out before five I'll be in good shape."
She walked up beside him, leaning over, kissing his lips.
"Hey, what's this work, work, work deal? I can get that back in the secretarial pool."
"But not the fringe benefits, right?" He cupped one of her breasts and pinched it gently.
"Yeah, and all that shit. You got time to mess around a little?"
He had figured half of a suggested elevation on the map and looked away at her. "What?"
"I said let's fuck."
"Baby, I've got work to do. Don't you see? This is a whole new game, a new idea, my idea, and I'm going to take that two million and with some raw land, some streets, and two-by-fours, I'm going to turn that two into ten million. It could be just the real beginning for me." He bent and kissed her cheek. "For all of us."
"But right now, it means your nose to the grindstone instead of sniffing up my crotch?"
He put down the map. "Danica, I guess you don't understand. I've been coasting. I knew this job inside out and did it that fast and had the rest of the time to mess around, with sports, with race cars, and with your cunt. Now I'm cutting out the sports and the cars. So if you want to stay on the team, give me a few weeks to get on top of this project."
"I want you on top of me."
"Soon, soon."
She turned and went to the door. "Terry, that might not be soon enough."
She went out the door and slammed it. Terry lifted his brows and watched the door for a moment. Then he shrugged. Secretaries were easy to come by, any kind of a secretary. He might let Leslie pick out his next one. He went back to the map and remembered it was five only when Danica slammed out the outer door without saying good-bye.
Mrs. Martha Martin smoothed back her dark hair and told Charles to hold dinner as she picked up the telephone.
"Oh, Dr. Lawrence, so good of you to call."
"I suppose you've heard the good news.
"Yes, Leslie, dear girl, called me the second she got home from your office. I'm pleased, Warren, very pleased. I'm not sure just how much you had to do with the pregnancy, but you must have used just the right combination of advice, magic potions and sexy ideas. Are you positive?"
"She has all the positive signs. Something could go wrong yet. We don't know if she has ever miscarried early in a term like this, but I'd say right now it's about ninety-eight percent certain."
"Good, Warren, good. Should I send you a check, Dr. Lawrence, or would you prefer cash?"
"Cash is a better idea. Nothing smaller than a hundred please, Mrs. Martin. They fit so nicely into boxes."
"That's true, Warren, and you are an expert on boxes. I'll send my driver over tomorrow. Of course if there's any change in status...."
"Cheerfully refunded until her next ovulation; then I've got my big guns ready."
Mrs. Martin laughed. "I've heard rumors about them, Warren. Be very discreet."
She said good-bye and hung up, then went in for a dinner for one at the big teakwood table with the formal dining service. Why did money mean you had to be lonely?
Dr. Lawrence sat in his office smiling. He would have the five thousand in cash early in the morning, just after the office opened if he knew Mrs. Martin. Always good on her word. And she had wanted a grandchild so desperately.
He looked into the outer office and saw only Miss Thompson licking envelopes.
So they had her doing the dirty work, did they? He laughed softly. She earned it.
"Miss Thompson, are you busy?"
A moment later she was in his office, the top button on her uniform newly opened so the edges of her big breasts peeked out.
"Done with the statements yet?"
"No. Do I have to do all of them? That bitch of an office manager orders me around like the bed-pan girl."
"Don't get so uptight, she may check back on your RN qualifications. We don't want that, do we?"
Thompson shook her head. 'Thompson, how would you look as a redhead?"
"Terrific, unless you want me to dye my pussy fur, too."
"That was the whole idea. I'm about ready to make another picture. You know how well that ugly bitch did with Deep Throat? I figure we can call this one "A Deeper Throat Yet" and make a bundle on the title alone. You don't mind sucking cock, do you?"
"Not if the money is right. I get a cut of the picture and, say, fifteen thousand for acting."
He put his hands inside her uniform and found her tits and shook his head. "You would call that acting? All you do is lay around bare-assed and get cum squirted in your face. Let some jock play with your big boobs and fuck your ass and your face. That's acting?"
"It takes talent, worn-out old man. It takes talent and not more than about twenty years of living, 'cause after that your ass and your tits are too old to get anybody's dick up. You don't put me down for my acting, and I won't put you down for your lousy porno movies."
Dr. Lawrence nodded. "Okay, baby, just don't get a snit up your twat. I still want you in my porno flic. Just take it easy and see if you can get this old man's flip up, 'cause if you can, there's a cool hundred-dollar bill in it for you. Now strip or something and see how you can make him sit up."
Nurse Thompson peeled out of her blouse, a grin starting to come back on her face. Now this was work she knew something about.
Lonnie kicked a tin can as he walked through the alley. Nothing was falling for him. The damn high school tit girl wasn't in the alley. He had no more job with Mrs. Martin, and he missed those afternoon sessions they used to have. Damn she had a lot of tit!
He kicked another can and turned into the street. The only poon he had around was good old Patty. She was mud-fence ugly, but she had a cunt and little tits he could play with. One of these days he'd get her to suck his cock. That would be wild.
Down the block he saw the school, and he walked a little faster when he realized someone sat on the lawn in front of the school office reading. Damn, it was Patty. She didn't even wave as he walked by, but he saw her get up and move back toward the furnace room. She went toward the back playground and vanished. He ran around the front wing of the school and cut through the breezeway and slid into the space between the bu'lding and the bricks. She was sitting on the blanket when he came in.
"Some smart-ass boys stole the Playboy magazine," she said.
He shrugged. "I don't need it, I'll look at you."
She smiled. "Lonnie, that's the nicest thing you ever said about me."
He spread out the blanket, and they lay down. His hands got on her tits right away. She let him feel her, then he lifted up the old sweater she wore.
She turned toward him.
"Lonnie, let's do something different today."
"You don't like jacking me off?"
"Oh, sure, but maybe ... I don't know. Isn't there something else we could do?"
"Sure, I could fuck you in your pussy."
She shook her head. "I told you no to that every time we've been in here."
"Well, you could suck my cock."
That stopped her. "You mean taste it-put it in my mouth?"
"Yeah. Women do it all the time. They like it: say the taste of cum is great."
"Ugh, not me!"
"Hey, what if I had a new way to give you a real bang, besides rubbing you off, and you couldn't get pregnant."
"Yeah, sounds good, what?"
"I'll tell you later." He had his hard cock out of his pants and put her hand on it. Then he wormed his finger between her legs and felt for the hole in her panties. She wore the same pair every time. He tickled her cunt, and she giggled.
"Maybe rubbing off is enough."
He spread her legs more and worked his finger down to her bung. He probed twice before she yelped.
"Hey, up higher, dummie."
"Dummie yourself, big girls get fucked back there, in the old asshole."
"Do not!"
"They do too. I've done it before." That stopped her. She looked up at him. "Really?"
"Sure, you think I only play around with you?"
"Well, I don't know. Tell me about it." He told her in detail about the bung fuck, and she shook her head. "I just don't believe it."
"Live and learn," he said.
He moved back to her cunt and had her half rubbed off when she stopped him. "Maybe your finger, you know, just try it a little back there."
Lonnie grinned. "Roll over on your stomach."
"She do it that way?"
Lonnie nodded. She rolled over, and he began to loosen up her asshole. With any luck, he'd have a shit fuck here before he let her get away.
That night when Terry got home from the office, he had a briefcase full of work. Leslie hadn't seen him do that for five years. She gave him a peck on the cheek, then kissed his lips and that surprised him.
"Hey, what's with you? Going to rape me every day for a month again?"
"I just might," she said leading him into the dining room. It was set for a formal dinner, only their plates were side by side. Their sterling silverware was out, the good china, crystal and four candles at each end of the table. "Celebration," she said.
He frowned. "No, not your birthday or our anniversary....Got me. What kind of a celebration?"
She held out her arms and when she was safely snuggled against him, she started to cry.
"Hey, what's this. A crying celebration?"
"She dried her eyes and hugged him very tight.
"I ... AM ... PREG ... NANT!"
He pushed back from her and stared at her face. Then a grin broke out on his face, and he yelped a southern rebel yell.
"Goddamn! All that seed planting finally paid off with a crop!" He twirled her around and around the dining room, until she was so dizzy they both sat down on the sofa. She leaned against him, then he fell sideways and pulled her on top of him.
"One thing I like about you, woman, is your big tits, did I ever tell you that?"
"Once or twice."
He kissed her and they both giggled.
"The damn doctor say for sure?"
"He said ninety-five percent chance. Your seed might tear away from the wall or something strange like that, but you sure fertilized me good. Just perfect!"
"Hot damn!" He bent and kissed both her breasts through the low cut dress she wore. "Hey, a woman's breasts get larger when the baby comes and the milk comes in, right?"
She nodded.
"Sonofagun! You really gonna have a pair of whoppers then. Hey, I get to taste some of your breast milk, okay?"
"Sure, that's standard procedure."
He held her and looked down at her sparkling face.
"Will you still love me when I get fat as a cow and ugly as a corn-cob mule?"
"You never will be ugly. Big and fat, I damn well hope so." He lifted her up and set her on her feet. "Now, woman, pregnant, like you are, get my dinner." He followed her to the kitchen where everything was ready and helped her carry it in.
"Tomorrow we hire a maid, and next week we look for a bigger house. I know mother has been dying to move us out of here. I'm sure she'll foot the bill, kind of a present for the little guy."
"Little girl."
They stood there, frowning at each other. "Hell, I don't care where the plumbing is, inside or outside, just so he's healthy. Let's see, should we let him go into stocks or into community development?"
They ate leisurely, then he took her hand and headed for the bedroom.
"Hey, it won't hurt anything? I mean we can still...."
She laughed. "Of course, we can fuck and suck and play any of the games you like, for at least six months yet."
He grinned and bent down, kissing both of her breasts which he pushed out of her low cut dress.
"Come on, woman, we got some lost time to make up for, and it starts right now!"
