Braking the car to a halt under the carport and withdrawing the key from the ignition, Margret Griffy looked at her brand new white stucco duplex. Now that she had finally accomplished her dream of having her own home in a neighborhood with lawns and trees and even children, it was silly, she knew, to keep dwelling on the unpleasant times she had endured since her divorce almost eight years ago. Here in the well-manicured Cedar Ct. she was certain to be surrounded by happy, stable families, far from the strange breed of city men who regard an attractive young divorcee as nothing more than a lonely woman hungry for a quick, loveless night of sexual thrills, the very type of male that had finally driven her to the firm decision that she would rather be alone, with only the memory of her ex-husband for company. Even loneliness was better than risking one more so-called "date" that would probably prove to be merely the same kind of gruesome wrestling match she had endured so many times before, her virtue and self-respect always at stake for the prize.
It had been a difficult decision for a young girl, then in her mid-twenties to make, yet to her there had seemed to be no other choice. These "dates" had often left her shaken for weeks afterward, not only by the physical exhaustion ... that would fade after a good night's sleep ... but more by the unexpectedly powerful desires that would be kindled within her. The strange ungovernable feelings would run wildly through her body at times such as this, feelings that she associated with the nights of sensual delight she and Harmen had shared before he had fallen for his young secretary and demanded a divorce. She had agreed, though she still loved him very much. It seemed almost obscene that she could not help feeling the same way sometimes when she was with the aging, hot-eyed, grabby men who always asked her out after her divorce. Rather than submit to something for which she knew she would always be sorry, she simply stopped dating, hoping that another handsome young idealist like Harmen would someday come to take her away from the hard-hearted social life of the city.
But he never came. Gradually, she began to live only for herself and dream of a somehow happy future with no one else to share it, planning for the day when she would have her own home away from the city. Now, at last, her chance had arrived and she would enjoy it and forget about all the unhappiness of the past!
Margret sat only a moment longer in her old white mustang, checking her clothing and hair before she emerged to walk out of the carport to the front door of her house. She had taken particular care with her appearance the last two mornings, hoping that her first impression with the neighbors would be a good one, and now she peered anxiously into the car's rear-view mirror as she ran a comb hurriedly through her thick, shoulder-length honey blonde hair. Her reflection in the tiny mirror heartened her somewhat, for though she still retained the languorous lush-mouthed beauty she had had when she married, the following ten years had softened the dramatic natural expression of her face that she had always feared made her look "easy" to men. Above all, she didn't want any of the neighborhood men or their wives to think that she was husband-hunting or even worse, that she was some kind of wanton adventuress who would thoughtlessly curry favors with other women's men. That was the farthest thing from the truth, for she had come to Cedar Court simply to escape that kind of person who laughed at the sanctity of marriage and the family and who would try to take advantage of a divorcee only because her husband was no longer there to protect and advise her.
"Hullo, Mrs. Griffy," a tiny voice suddenly came faintly into the car as small grimy knuckles appeared seemingly out of nowhere to tap on the window beside Margret. "Where ya goin?"
Hurriedly replacing her comb in her purse, the happy woman carefully opened the door of the car and smiled down at the grubby-faced carrot-haired toddler who stood beside the auto, an apparently well-traveled package of crumbled cookies clenched tightly in her other hand. "I just came home from work, Polly," she slowly explained to the youngster who had ambled into her carport yesterday afternoon with the same question. "I'm going inside now to make my dinner."
"Me, too?" the child demanded, taking a firm grip on Margret's hand as she slid outside the car.
"No, not tonight, dear," the blonde chuckled. "Your mommy doesn't know me yet and she might worry about you. Besides, all those cookies should keep you filled up for a while." She gently extricated her fingers from the grasp of the little girl's fist and strode out of the carport to the front of her house. Behind her, she could hear Polly's loud "humph!" of disapproval before the tot went scampering back to the yard next door.
The thick grass of her lawn felt soft and spongy under Margret's wedged shoes and she luxuriated in the sights and sounds of the early evening street games of the neighborhood children. Her mood was so buoyantly happy that when a basketball suddenly landed at her feet, she quickly swept it up off the ground and tossed it back to the teenaged boys gathered in front of the garage. She light-heartedly returned their broad grins, then turned to climb the short, brick stairway to her front door.
"Hey, that was a great pass," a young male voice suddenly called out from behind her. "C'mon and toss it around with us for a while!"
Flattered that the youngsters would want her to join them in their basketball game, the lovely thirty-three-year-old divorcee paused to consider the request for a moment before realizing that she would probably look too silly running around in the street in her "work" clothes, a tailored white blouse and short slim skirt. With a rueful smile, she looked back at the group of youths and reluctantly shook her head.
"Try me some other time, boys," she called back. "Maybe on a weekend. I've had a hard day at the office." She looked back again to search her purse for the key to the front door, then stiffened with abrupt shock as she heard another, not so friendly, teenaged voice yell out, "I bet you have, babe! With an ass like that, you must just be as busy as a bee!"
Automatically, the blonde whirled about to discover the owner of the snide remark, but by the time she was again facing the street, her startled brown eyes met nothing but the sight of a half dozen boys, none of them over fifteen years of age, she thought, all smiling up at her with angelic innocence.
No, that wasn't quite true, she suddenly corrected herself as she realized with a start that above their sweet smiles the the boys' eyes were raking over her body with such salacious interest that she almost felt that her clothes were being burnt off her skin by the fiery intensity of their gazes. Her soft full lips compressed tightly together as she futilely searched her brain for a sufficiently biting remark to toss back to the arrogant teenagers. Then with a low groan of angry frustration, she turned her back on them and began frantically rummaging through the contents of her purse again, trying to find the key to the front door before she could be embarrassed further by the cocky youths.
"Hey, sweetie, need a little help? Me and my buddies would be happy to give you anything you want," the same voice piped up again, but this time it was lower and much, much closer. Margret peered anxiously into the bag that carried her groceries for dinner, wondering if she could have dropped her key-ring into it by mistake.
"Anywhere you want it too, sweetie," the taunting voice continued as she heard footsteps on the stairs behind her. "Why don't you ask us inside so we can get to know you a little better?" The last mocking question was punctuated by a sudden pinch to Margret's smooth skirt-clad buttock, making her catch her breath in horrified dismay.
Instantly infuriated, she swung around to face a leering blond youth who had led the troup of teenaged boys up to her front steps. "What's your name and where do you live, young man?" she angrily demanded, her dark eyes flashing at his insolent grin. "I'm going to see your father about this!"
She saw the youth's face drop for a moment, but then, obviously remembering that his friends were all waiting for his reply, the fair-haired boy swaggered a little closer to her and whispered in a voice loud enought for the others to hear, "What for, baby? He's old ... Wouldn't you rather have me slip a dick to you? Or one of the boys here?"
This last statement apparently shocked even the other boys with its lewdness and as Margret backed away in horror, she heard one of the smaller boys squeak up to the top of the porch, "Hey, Bret, we better get out of here before she really does get us in trouble. C'mon, you guys."
The youngsters began to nervously move back away from the porch and across the lawn toward the street again, but the blond-haired boy who was obviously the leader of the group, stood his ground, an expression of disgust on his face at his comrades' frightened retreat.
"Aw, what'sa matter with you?" he glared down at the teenagers who now waited uncertainly by the curb. "Didn't I tell you that these older broads just love anything they can get! I bet it's been years since she's seen a man who's young enough to get one up! Remember, my brother Wally told us all about it."
Some of the youths below brightened at their friend's words and one boy who looked barely old enough to know the facts of life tittered loudly, "Hey, yeah, Bret! Do you think she'd like it in the ass, like Wally said?"
"Or in her mouth? I want to shove mine in her mouth!" another excitedly interjected amidst the giggles.
Margret cringed back even closer to her front door, her eyes darting fearfully up and down the block to see if the younger children playing there had taken notice of the gross foulness that had been spewing from the lips of the boys at the curbside. To her astonished relief, she saw that none of the little girls or boys had even turned their heads away from the various games they were involved in and, in fact, most were even shouting noisily to one another, as if to overcome the distraction of the older boys' obscene exchange with the new neighbor. Thank God for the trusting innocence of children, she sighed inwardly, before her attention was rudely jerked back to her present predicament by another rude comment from the street.
"Hey, Bret, Ask her if she's horny! We could do it right a way, huh Bret?"
"Yeah, lady, whadya say?" the blond boy said coolly to the beautiful blonde, grinning in obvious enjoyment of her terror and confusion. "Let's you and me and the guys go inside for a while and we'll heat up that nice firm tail of yours...."
"N ... no!" Margret burst out, almost dropping her grocery bag as the youth took a step closer. As she hugged the package closer to her trembling body, she felt something metalic bite into her clenching fingers and barely kept from sobbing in relief as she realized that the keys had been right in her hand all the time. With speed born of desperate fear, she whirled around and shoved the key into the unfamiliar lock of her new home, quickly slipping inside as soon as she felt the bolt give. Fighting back tears of humiliation, she slammed the door shut and collapsed limply against it, reddening at the sound of the boys' mocking laughter as they returned to their basketball game.
A minute later, she shakily moved away from the doorway, walking slowly through her living room to the back of the house. She had been stunned into an almost stuperous feeling by the unanticipated exchange with the boys, all seemingly so young, barely high school age. Still the brazen obscenities that had come from their mouths shocked her more than even the most frightening of the dates she had endured since her divorce. Was this the innocence she had hoped to find away from the city? she mused unhappily.
Dropping her purse and the grocery bag on the dressing table in her bedroom, she began to unbutton her blouse, a worried frown still furrowing her brow. Somehow, she felt that the boys had not been entirely to blame this afternoon, for the attractive divorcee had been the victim of such assaults, both verbal and physical, almost since she could remember, and she had always been grateful that, one way or another, most men showed some of the same type of selfish crudeness as the boys this afternoon.. Otherwise, she knew very well that her body would have naturally responded to the intoxicating stimulation of male appreciation. Only one man in her life had been respectful and gentle with her and that man, her husband Harmen, was the only one who ever enjoyed her body. If only he had not, after only a year of marriage ... might be a happy, fulfilled woman now, she thought sadly.
Unzipping her skirt and stripping it down over her long, beautifully curved legs, she placed it neatly on the bed beside her blouse, then quickly removed her bra and panties in preparation for the cool shower she took each afternoon to symboliacly wash away the worries of her city-bound working day. But this evening, instead of going directly into the bathroom, Margret impulsively padded across the room to the mirror over her dressing table, vaguely wondering exactly what quality about her made most men act so lewdly obnoxious in her presence.
The beautiful blonde stopped a few yards short of the huge looking-glass that she had inherited from her aunt Beth eight years ago and almost fearfully let her eyes roam over the naked female contours that were reflected before her. Even her own critical gaze could not find fault in the perfection of her satin skin, fleshy, high set breasts or the inviting curves of her hips disappearing into her tiny wisp of a waist. What met her eyes was an all-over picture of total femininity and yet she reminded herself that other women had bodies just as beautiful as hers and still managed to maintain control over the men they were with.
Then her puzzled eyes flicked lower to the dark triangle of her sex. Between her slightly spread legs, Margret could see clearly the fleshy pinkness of her vaginal slit, glistening moistly through the softness of her pubic hair in the golden waning light of the late afternoon sun through the bedroom window. Unconsciously she began to nibble nervously on her full lower lip as a disturbing idea developed in her mind.
Did men have some kind of extra sense about women, she brooded uncomfortably, did they suspect the struggles that so often raged within her, under the demure, deliberately unprovocative clothing she always wore and the expression of glacial indifference she wore like a mask? Were even strangers aware of how frequently she wanted desperately to cast aside all her modesty and reserve, to give in to the strong sexual instincts and urges that seemed only normal for a ripe, beautiful woman of thirty years? Oh, Margret, don't be silly, she suddenly chided herself, turning away from the mirror before the alarming train of thought could proceed any further. The curvaceous divorcee was aware of a familiar, throbbing hunger growing demandingly between her bare thighs, a response she had learned to expect whenever sex entered her thoughts, and as always, she quickly searched the room for something to distract her mind while she waited for her body to forget that a man's drive-hardened penis had not entered it for almost ten years. A child's joyful whoop drew her attention to the window and, grateful for any means to ignore the aching void between her legs, she hurried to see what was going on outside, pausing only to draw down the Venetian blinds to hide her nakedness from the sly gazes of the older boys in the street.
Right below her window, Margret saw little Polly determinedly grinding her cookies into the face of a large baby doll and the blonde watched in amusement for a minute or two until the little girl lost interest in the pastime and toddled off toward the front of her own home next door. Watching the sweet-faced youngster had proved the perfect remedy to cool the fires that had blazed momentarily in Margret's loins, and she was about to leave the window when her gaze suddenly fell on a lone boy who was hurriedly striding down the sidewalk, stopping at every home to remove a newspaper from the burlap cloth bag slung over his shoulder.
After the humiliating ordeal with the youths on the street, she found herself nodding in smiling approval at the conscientious way this boy folded each paper and carefully placed it in the mailbox of each house he stopped at. Although he looked to be about the same age as the leering, insulting group she had encountered earlier, the red-haired teenager delivering the evening newspapers was obviously head and shoulders above the other boys in temperament and character. Margret thoughtfully studied the youth's open, vulnerable, adolescent face, instantly wishing that she had met him, instead of the vile-mouthed neighborhood rowdies she had been forced to deal with after she arrived home from her job in the city. This boy seemed to be exactly the type of youngster she had hoped to find here in this neighborhood ... friendly and intelligent, and perhaps a little shy and afraid of girls, the way Harmen had been as a teenager. Her gaze lingered on the unruly shock of sun-lightened hair that hung over the boy's eyes, then on the supple slim frame that carried the heavy newspaper pouch. With a strange excitement welling up in her, Margret carefully deciphered the ornate black lettering painted on the burlap bag.
"The Sacramento Evening News," the lovely blonde slowly read aloud, her soft voice trembling with the force of the rising emotions that were suddenly pounding through her veins.
Without pausing another moment, she turned on her heel and walked from the room, the smooth firm flesh of her naked breasts and buttocks quivering slightly with each step. Abruptly halting before the tiny telephone table in the hallway, she jerked the heavy phone book from its shelf below and flipped through its pages, a light pink flush of exhilaration staining her cheeks as she scanned the entries. A moment later, Margret held the telephone receiver to her ear, breathlessly eager as she listened to the measured ringing of the phone whose number she had dialed.
"Sacramento Evening News. Can I help you?" a crisp female voice finally announced.
It was a full ten seconds before the beautiful divorcee could find the words to answer;
"Yes, please ... I ... I'd like to have your paper delivered to my home...."
Swathed uncomfortably in the oppressive heat that had lingered long past sundown that night, Margret sat up in bed only long enough to tear off the thin nylon nightgown she had worn to bed, then sank down on the sheets again, letting the damp garment fall into a limp pile at the side of the bed. Staring into the blackness of her bedroom, she prayed for rain, a-breeze, anything to cool her sweat-drenched flesh.
The flash of unexplained excitement she had felt this afternoon had faded soon after she had arranged to have the newspaper delivered to her home starting tomorrow, and now she wondered what could have been wrong with her to make her so strangely enthusiastic at the prospect of meeting the red-haired youngster on the street. The lonely years must be finally affecting her mind, she decided with a sigh, then ruefully amended the thought. It was her body that was betraying her and even now, an insistent throbbed deep in her belly, the same dormant need that had been plaguing her ever since she had hung up the telephone.
No matter how hard she tried, she could not think of anything else but that young paperboy, his soft, gentle face apd his lithe, youthful body striding gracefully from house to house. What she was feeling was crazy, no, it was sick, she angrily told herself, yet her vagina still throbbed defiantly, demanding relief instead of lectures. She moaned softly as her entire groin began to tingle with a ferocity that would not be ignored.
The beautiful divorcee thrashed despondently on the mattress for several minutes, then with a sigh of defeat, closed her eyes as her right hand began to steal slowly down toward the soft blonde curls that covered the juncture of her thighs.
Stiffening with annoyance at her own nakedness, Margret suddenly pulled her arm back and clenched her knees tightly together in an attempt to stifle the wicked sexual blaze that roared out of control in her loins. She quickly realized the futility of her struggle and she knew that she could easily lie awake all through the night if she did not soon surrender to the maddening tingle deep in her belly.
Still trying to erase the inciting image of the slender, red-haired boy from her mind, Margret let her hands drift restlessly over the smooth warm skin of her body, kneading her own breasts and pinching the soft pliant nipples till they had tightened to tiny ringling points of hard flesh. Her long, shapely legs began to scissor open and closed slowly as she thrust one hand down between them and started rhythmically stroking at her clitoris, working herself into a driving, desperate passion. Her eyes became glazed and smoky as she surrendered completely to the need building within her, her smooth rounded buttocks twisting frantically into the sheets until the damp soft fabric bunched into the lightly perspiring crevice between and grazed thrilling against the tender swelling of her vulva. At the almost electrical contact, the blonde's breathing deepened and the frantic yearning blossomed inside her inflamed vagina.
The divorcee was horrified to think that the mere sight of a strange young boy had driven her to this state of hopeless arousal, but the shame she felt strangely stimulated her more. Her lips opened in wanton delight as her slender trembling fingers slid downward to the soft, hair-covered lips of her pussy and pulled them gently outward until the moist pink furrow was fully exposed to the warm night air and the tiny mouth-like opening throbbed hungrily into the darkness.
Tentatively, she wormed her long middle finger into the moistly quivering hole, forcing it downward until the tight smooth passageway had engulfed her entire finger. Then, suddenly afraid to pause as her excitement mounted, Margret quickly thrust another finger past the swollen flanges of her ever moistening cunt, gradually widening the lips as she rotated the inserted fingers in sensual abandon. Incoherent, barely remembered images of her husband driving his young, hard penis into her own writhing body flashed hotly through her mind, then, suddenly, the pictures changed.
It was not Harmen, but that boy! Her eyes closed in rapture as she imagined the slim, smooth hips of the red-haired paper boy pounding against her body where her own palm now slammed against her heaving loins each time she drove her fingers deeper and harder into her insatiable pussy. In a frenzy of shameless lust, she threw her hips upward and jerked her legs back tight against her chest to meet each lewdly delightful stroke of her hammering fingers. Her face contorted with the efforts of her frenzied manipulations, but it was not enough!
Wailing in frustration, she jammed another finger into her ravenously hungry pussy while she reached with her other hand between her legs for her hard, swollen clitoris. Feverishly, she pinched and teased at the tiny bud of her sex while her clenching buttocks danced insanely to the savage rhythms of her driving fingers. Deep moans of animal pleasure rose from the depths of her throat as she speeded into a more rapid rhythm, straining for a climax, lunging upward to bury the invading fingers deep in the tight wet opening of her vagina. Her long wavy hair whirled around her face as her head tossed from side to side on her pillow as she tried and tried to bring herself to an orgasm.
She hovered for what seemed like centuries on the edge of a climax, lunging upward to bury invading fingers deep in the tight wet opening of her vagina. Her long wavy hair whirled around her face as her head tossed from side to side on the pillow as she tried to bring herself to an orgasm.
She hovered for what seemed like centuries on the edge of a climax and she put both her hands over her cunt, massaging and fingering herself with all her strength. Margret forced herself to go on long after she realized that she was weak with exhaustion, and finally, she fell onto her side, huddling into a shuddering ball of despair, biting the pillowcase under her head to keep from screaming in frustration. It would just not come!
The beautiful divorcee lay, gulping for breath, until her sexual tension slowly receded and her tautened muscles gradually relaxed from the strain of her frustrating rodea. A soft moan fell from her lips as a trembling rush of shame suddenly enveloped her. How many times had she sworn to control these frequent and debasing moments of sexual need, she angrily demanded of herself, and how many times had she succumbed, like tonight, acting like an animal, a mindless rutting animal? Angrily, she jerked her hands out from between her still-quivering thighs, heedless of the sharp biting pain as her finger-nails scraped against the sensitive flesh of her vagina as they slipped moistly out from passion-drenched vagina.
Still breathing heavily, she staggered into the bathroom in search of the sleeping pills she kept for times such as this. She knew that it was already just a few hours before the dawn, but it didn't matter.
Even if she had difficulty dragging herself from the bed in the morning, it would be less punishment than she knew deserved for the vile, lewd, unnatural thoughts that had triggered her lust this night. Her thoughts about the young and innocent paperboy had been wicked and wrong and ... dangerous.
After all these years of restraining and deliberately denying the rich female sexuality with which nature had so imprudently endowed her, she knew that something had snapped inside her today. While staring innocently out of her bedroom window, Margret had arrived at the end of her rope, and she found herself in a strange land where her body somehow controlled her mind.
It was wrong, wrong, she desperately repeated as she stumbled back into bed ... but, somehow, precisely because her fantasies about the paperboy were so wicked, they were all the more exciting ... and tempting.
* * *
Margret arrived home the next evening a little late, having stopped for an unaccustomed drink before leaving for home. As she unlocked her front door and stepped out of the blazing afternoon sun into the cool dimness of her living room, she thanked her stars that the group of rowdy, basketball playing boys were mercifully absent from the street that afternoon. Perhaps they had played tennis at the local" park, she mused, or maybe she had frightened them off with her talk of reporting the ringleader to his father. Whatever, she was grateful that she had managed to avoid them. She was in no condition for another confrontation this afternoon.
For that matter, the shapely blonde realized suddenly as she tripped and almost fell on the edge of her living room rug, she was in no shape at all. The one martini she had drunk some minutes ago was the first alcohol she had swallowed in months and she was already feeling the effects of the potent drink. Usually it took a special occasion before she would drink liquor at all, but this day had been strange, if not particularly special.
Margret had been awakened at ten that morning, three hours after her alarm clock had apparently run down without rousing her, by a telephone call from the office. She had been tempted to plead sickness, but Dr. Mason's frantic reports of an office full of unexpected patients had touched her conscience and, after driving the sleep from her brain with several cups of steaming black coffee, she had sped into the city as fast as the old mustang would carry her. In the mad rush of her first waking hours, the lovely divorcee temporarily forgot about her shameful thoughts of the night before. It wasn't until later soon after her lunch break, that the unusual character of this particular day began to assert itself.
Margret had been sitting at her desk in the waiting room, carefully listing the names of the patients and their complaints on the doctor's work pad, when two obviously embarrassed teenaged boys peered into the finally deserted reception room. As was her habit with boys of that age group, she invited them in and immediately began smiling and teasing them in a flirting way she often used to put them at ease before sending the youths in to see the dentist. It was a manner that came easily to her, as she and Harmen had been barely past high school age themselves when they first became "serious" and since then, she had never become sufficiently involved with another man to make her want to trade her coy, youthful mannerisms for those suitable for a thirty three year old divorcee. Besides, she always found such satisfaction in seeing them drop their frightened expressions and later, to feel the gratitude in their young eyes when the boys emerged from the examining room, still intact and usually very relieved at the doctor's diagnoses of their teeth.
Now, several hours later, Margret sunk down on her living room couch, still not certain of exactly what had gone wrong that afternoon. Knowing what she now knew about those boys, she suspected that what had happened had been their fault and not hers, but, at the time, she had felt frightened and guilty ... afraid that those two teenagers could somehow see past her primly modest appearance to that secret part of her being that held the corrupt and unnatural feelings that had held sway over her mind as she had writhed beneath the wanton titillations of her own hands the night before.
And even the doctor, the dear, gentle, old dentist for whom she had worked for nearly five years, had seemed suddenly cold and distant when he had discovered the strange scene taking place in his waiting room.
Actually, nothing earth-shattering had occurred, Margret now thought to herself as she kicked off her shoes and leaned back into the cushiony softness of the sofa to relieve the dizziness the after-work drink had produced in her brain. At least, it had been nothing much to anyone but her, she quickly amended the thought, remembering how the doctor had clucked sympathetically and given her the last hour of the day off, when she told him what exactly had happened.
The lovely divorcee had simply asked the two boys why they had come to the doctor's office, then repeated the question when they did nothing but stare at her with little smiles on their faces, shaking their heads. Then, abruptly, she had realized that she should stop flirting with them, for the smoldering looks in their eyes told her that the youths were taking her innocent play all too seriously. Margret had hurriedly straightened her shoulders and stared sternly up at them, but not before one of the youths, a husky black boy of about sixteen had leaned over her desk and casually reached beneath the starched white blouse she had worn to work.
"If I'm this close, baby, you just might catch it," he had whispered with a cocky smile on his face.
At that moment, the doctor had opened the door from his examining room and, after a long moment of embarrassing silence, had beckoned the boys inside. Margret knew that he must have seen the boy's fingers tracing the fabric-covered contour of her bulging right breast, and she blushed a bright red as the old gentleman had wordlessly lifted the still-blank information sheet from her desk before reentering the inner office.
The attractive receptionist spent a nervous and apprehensive half hour before the two teenagers emerged from the examining room and left the office, both scowling angrily. The old doctor had followed close behind and, with a trace of a smile on his face, had softly asked the young divorcee what had happened.
Little had the kindly old dentist suspected the underlying reason for her jangled nerves that afternoon. It had taken Margret herself more than half a martini before she would admit it, even in her own mind. But the time she spent in the plush ladies bar in the city had loosened up her inhibitions until she was finally able to face the fact that she had been truly aroused by the touch of that young, less than half her age, boy's hand.
Not simply aroused, but almost quivering with excitement, she had shamefully admitted to herself. Never, never in her life, except for the brief time she had spent with Harmen, had she felt anything like it. It was horrible, it was degrading, it was perverted, and nothing but raw animal lust, and yet, in spite of her revulsion at her own response, she had become excited again in the bar, even thinking about the young smooth hand that had momentarily brushed over the sensitive tip of her breast through her blouse and bra underneath. Every nerve in her body had come to quivering life in a disturbingly familiar tingling sensation, the same way, she now remembered, it had happened each time she had ever looked up from the paper work on her desk and seen a young boy peering over a magazine at her breasts or her thighs, a light beading of perspiration forming on his upper lip.
At last, no longer able to stand the terrifying knowledge of her own secret nature, she had tossed down the remains of her drink and rushed out to her car parked in the street, hoping that she might somehow leave the ugly reality of her unnatural perversion behind her in the bar with the empty martini glass.
Now as she snuggled back into the softness of her own overstuffed sofa, it seemed that she had almost succeeded in doing just that. The entire drink had been absorbed into her bloodstream during the drive home and the alcohol wafted lazily through her brain, settling her frayed nerves and driving away the frightened horror she had experienced in the bar, during her anguished moments of self-revelation. It suddenly seemed like little more than a bad dream, surely one that she could learn from, but nothing so terrible that it could not be faced in the light of day.
Realizing that she felt sweaty and somehow dirtied by the emotional ordeal she had undergone that afternoon, Margret went to the rear of the house to shower and change her clothes, after first indulging herself with a glass of port from her ill-used liquor supply, For some reason, it felt a time for some small celebration. After all, she had come to face an important if disturbing, aspect of her own personality, and now that her secret desires were no longer hidden to her, she felt sure that she would overcome these strange, perverted feelings she had been unknowlingly suffering from throughout the years.
The shapely divorcee pulled on a pair of shorts and a brief, cool halter, then stepped out into her back yard for a taste of the late spring sun that never seemed quite fresh after it filtered down through the smog and the towering skyscrapers of the cities. But, here at her new home in Cedar Ct. she was nearly bowled over by the late afternoon brilliance and the blasting May heat. But it was an extraordinarily beautiful day and, as she sipped at the second and last glass of port she had allowed herself, the blonde felt a joyful exuberance at the sweet clean air in her lungs, the sight of the neatly rowed houses on all sides, each framed by lush velvety lawns and bright patches of carefully tended flowers and foliage. The sound of happy children frolicking nearby perfected her new surroundings and, as she smilingly settled down on the back porch steps, she remembered the dreams she had shared with Harmen of someday owning a home exactly like this.
Suddenly, her contemplation was cut short by the sound of the doorbell ringing in the front of the house, startling Margret even though she quickly remembered that the paper delivery was due to start this evening. Smoothing her hair and futilely pulling down the legs of the summer shorts that she now realized were a bit too brief for the eyes of a teenaged boy, she strode nervously through the house and pulled open the front door. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw not only the sweet-faced boy she had observed yesterday afternoon, but another youth with him, a tall, huling, breathtakingly handsome male who appeared to be several years older.
"Are you Mrs. Griffy, ma'am?" the slender redheaded youth inquired respectfully, a shy smile on his smooth features. "I deliver the Sacramento Evening News and they told me you might want to get the paper at your house...."
"Yes ... yes, I'm Mrs. Griffy," the beautiful divorcee finally said lamely, flushing pink as she realized that her eyes were excitedly darting from one boy to the other, not certain which of the two handsome specimens of youthful masculinity she should focus her attention on. Despite the fact that she thought she had at last accepted and conquered the strange excitement that had risen within her yesterday afternoon at the sight of the paperboy, she felt the heat of the odd fascination rising in her loins once again. But now there were two of them, and it was doubly powerful. Her mind cast about aimlessly as she tried to think of what to say next.
"Mrs. Griffy...." the slim boy with the burlap bag over his shoulder repeated again, obviously confusd by her silence. Behind him, the taller, broad-shouldered youth merely smiled vacantly, as though he detected nothing unusual in the atmosphere.
"Oh, please, forgive me. Come in and tell me about how all this works. I've never had a regular delivery before," Margret breathlessly managed, pointing hopefully to the interior of the house as she wondered anxiously how long she would be able to talk to the exciting boys before they had to leave to complete their deliveries. "They ... they didn't tell me much on the phone yesterday."
"Oh, it's easy, ma'am," the red-haired teenager smiled uncertainly at her obvious distress. "You just...."
"Please, please, come in," Margret interrupted him, hoping her suddenly all-consuming excitement was not revealed in her voice. "I'll bet you're thirsty after walking around that sun. We'll talk about it over a soft drink, okay?"
The red-haired youth's face was shiny from perspiration and the beautiful divorcee's eyes brightened as she saw him pause to consider his proposal. After what seemed like hours of silence, he nodded cautiously, then looked back over his shoulder at his friend.
"Jeff, you'd better go on home," the paperboy said very slowly, as if talking to a child. "I have to talk to this lady for awhile, and I'll stop by and see you on my way home."
Before Margret could protest, the tall, good-looking boy's grin widened and he bobbed his head up and down as though grateful for the directions. "Okay, Peter. I'll go play with Bret for a while," he said in a slow, husky voice. "I think he ain't mad at me any more. So long!"
Margret watched regretfully as the husky black-haired boy bounded gracefully across the yard and down the street, then started in embarrassment as she realized that the remaining youth was still standing on the porch before her, patiently waiting for her next words. Trying desperately to stifle the strange nervousness she felt building within her, she stepped back from the doorway to allow him to enter the house. Her mind tried to call a warning out as she closed the front door behind him, but the alcohol that now dulled her consciousness made it easy for her to ignore signal for caution.
"Do you like the house, Mrs. Griffy?" the boy said, obviously self-conscious about his effort at conversation. "It was for sale a long time, and I thought some crotchety old man was going to buy it. It's nicer...." he added hesitantly, looking down at the floor in embarrassment, "I mean, we're glad you got it instead."
A thrill ran through Margret. Here was this beautiful boy, and he was already telling her that he liked her. She felt her knees become a little wobbly as she realized that he was unconsciously staring at her lush, scantily-clad body. Without thinking, she smiled coyly back at him and walked over to the tiny liquor cabinet, swaying her hips provocatively as she moved.
"I don't think I have anything in the refrigerator but milk," Margret said, her lovely white teeth flashing in a friendly smile. "Would you like a tiny glass of wine?"
"Gee, I don't know ... well, I guess so, if you think it would be all right, Mrs. Griffy."
"Good, I'll have one with you," she said, even though she knew that she had already had much too much to drink that afternoon. "Your name's Peter, right? How old are you?"
"Uh, almost sixteen, ma'am," he said slowly, a fresh beading of perspiration breaking out on his forehead as he watched the curvaceous blonde glide across the room with two small glasses of amber liquid in her hands. The tip of his tongue swiped nervously at his lower lips before he quickly added, "About the paper, ma'am ... all you have to do...."
"Oh, sit down, Peter," Margret broke in with a little tinkling laugh. "Let's just relax a moment before we get down to business." She watched as he backed up to settle down on the couch, then held out one of the brimful glasses to him. She was fighting with all her strength to overcome the maddening temptation to reach out and touch his face. Only fourteen years old, she marvelled silently, and yet so powerfully masculine. She studied the smooth, innocent features that faced her and realized with a start that he had not yet even begun to shave. Once again, she realized that he was averting his eyes from her penetrating gaze and, feeling instantly contrite for embarrassing him, the beautiful divorcee settled herself beside him on the sofa.
"Excuse me for staring at you, Peter," she apologized softly, leaning forward to gaze sincerely into the red-haired youth's eyes. "It's just that you're very handsome ... I hope you don't mind my saying that."
"N ... no, ma'am," the boy faltered, unable to tear his gaze from the deep cleavage between her full, white breasts that had become exposed beneath the low-cut neckline of her halter. His brow furrowed as though he were trying to find the proper words for what he wanted to say and then he looked up at her with an innocent sincerity that made Margret's blood race with excitement. "I don't think I've ever been close to anyone as beautiful as you, either, if that's okay."
Since her divorce, virtually dozens of older men had said essentially the same thing to the lovely blonde but never before had the words had such an effect on her. For some reason she didn't even try to justify to herself, Margret's gaze darted down to the crotch of the boy's faded jeans and the sight that met her eyes filled her with a passionate yearning that both thrilled and frightened her. Pressing out against the soft, blue fabric, she could clearly see a stiff, slender form, pressing up and outward, and she felt her fingers almost aching with the desire to touch and fondle the youthfully swelling flesh.
"I'm glad, Peter, so very glad you feel that way," she breathed, reaching out to lay her cool fingers on the hand that still held his newspaper pouch tightly to his side. She could feel the throbbing center of her loins flexing almost violently in passionate answer to the sight of his hardening young flesh beneath his pants. Her tingling vaginal slit was moist-under the thin filmy silkiness of her panties, and her nipples had grown pebble-hard and burned against the now-abrasive inner material of her brassiere as her generously curving breasts heaved higher and swelled with the torment of her excitement.
CHAPTER TWO
Margret struggled against the almost overpowering desire to plunge her hand down inside of her brief cotton shorts and rub the fleshy burning ridges of her pussy to even greater arousal. This was the kind of honest sexual arousal that she had always looked for in the presence of a man, but had never been quite right with the middle aged men of the past years. Those men had been, crude and flabbily ugly, but now with this sweet, confused boy sitting next to her, she wished desperately that she could simply tell him that she wanted him, wanted to have his virile young penis inside of her so that they could both enjoy each other to the fullest. This moment was like a dream come true and her alcohol-fogged mind could not quite comprehend why she should restrain herself and feel guilty because this boy made her breasts and cunt cry out for the soothing pleasure of his touch.
"Mrs. Griffy, are you feeling all right?" Peter's voice broke into her thoughts, shocking her back to the reality of the moment. "You ... you look a little upset. I didn't insult you or anything, did I?" He nervously swallowed the last dregs of wine in his glass, then stood up as if to leave, hoisting the bag of newspaper higher on his shoulder. But, though he shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other, Margret could feel his eyes upon her, staring ravenously at her fully curved body, not like a teenaged boy, but as a full grown man stares at a woman who excites his natural lust to boldness.
"I ... I think...." Margret began haltingly, unable to think clearly as his eyes feasted on her immodestly clad form, brazenly resting on her high, plush bosom, then wandering downward to take in her bare midriff. Pull yourself together! some part of her conscience cried out to her. Let him go now before its too late! But it was already too late and Margret heard a voice she barely recognized as her own huskily whisper, "I think I feel a little faint, Peter. Would you help me into my bedroom?"
He stared questioningly for a moment and then slowly lowered the heavy pouch to the floor, confusion and youthful lust both showing clearly in his expression. Margret was visibly trembling now from the delicious erotic sensations rippling through every nerve in her body and she did not know or care anymore whether her lie had really deceived the boy. The only thing she was sure about was the sexual currents of feeling that had begun to leap between their bodies. She remembered what other men had told her about using sex to bring pleasure to herself and her mind was momentarily filled with visions of aggressiveness that bordered on shameless plans of seducing the young fifteen year old who stood so innocently before her. Her gaze fell again to his trousers and paused a moment on the dark spot of moisture that had appeared around his hard young cock, then ran over the rest of his slim youthful form, coming to rest at last on his face and the wide blue eyes slight with newly discovered passion.
"Please, Peter," she murmured throatily, holding out her hand to him. "I have to lie down. Take me back to my room, and then you can go if you like."
"Oh, no, ma'am, I won't leave you feelin' sick," he said ardently, stepped closer to help her to her feet. "I won't go until you tell me to," he shakily whispered, drinking in her closeness as she stood before him, his gaze roving hungrily over every soft contour of her ripe female form.
Then, with a tiny strangled cry, he snaked both arms around her, catching her tiny waist, pulling her closer to plant several moist rapid kisses up on her cheeks and throat. A gasp of shock burst from Margret's lips before he rose on his tip toes and his mouth locked on hers as he flicked out his hot tongue to stab deeply between her lips. This was wrong, she knew it, and yet her senses were suddenly screaming with desire for this smooth-bodied youngster, for the hard rod of flesh she felt digging into her belly as he ground his body against her. His own innocent desire for her aroused her even more until she ceased squirming and actually wrapped her own arms around his neck pulling his torso protectively tighter against her breasts as she began to press her hips forward in a suggestive, seductive gesture of encouragement.
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Griffy, I can't help myself ... you're so beautiful and nice. Please, please, don't be mad at me," he pleaded, searching her face for some sign of her true feelings. His hands slipped down to her firm globular buttocks under her shorts and began squeezing and kneading them with a hypnotic rhythm that matched the jarring pulse of her pounding heart. More and more the insane desire that had been building in her since yesterday, when she had first seen this slender, red-haired boy, was taking control of her mind and emotions. She wanted him desperately and was willing to risk anything to achieve her goal.
"Peter, Peter, wait," she gasped, forcing her voice to sound calm and logical. "We can't ... can't...." Her voice faded out as she stared into his anguished blue eyes. "I ... I have to he d ... down," she breathlessly entreated him, taking his hand in her own and leading him toward the doorway of her tiny bedroom, Margret's courage deserted her and she stopped, frantically searching her mind for any excuse to avoid what she knew was about to take place.
"Please, come on, Mrs. Griffy," Peter gently urged her, pulling her forward until her legs brushed the bedspread and she resignedly lowered herself down on the mattress. The boy watched, his hands clenching and unclenching nervously at his sides, as she slowly lifted her long, shapely legs onto the bed, then dropped her head down to the pillow.
"Do you want me to go now, ma'am?" Peter finally asked in a voice straining with misery and frustration, his eyes staring unseeingly at the wall on the opposite side of the bedroom as his rampant young prick continued to jerk and throb painfully against the confinement of his jeans.
Yes, yes, for God's sake go, Margret's mind screamed silently, get out of here before I lose all control over myself. But her body was beyond answering the commands of her mind and her soft full lips opened, uttering the words that she would regret the rest of her life.
"No, Peter, stay with me. Don't go."
Even in his adolescent innocence, the auburn-haired boy also understood the irrevocable meaning of her words and, with a barely audible gasp of delight, he dropped onto the bed beside her and she gathered him up into her waiting arms, crushing him to her. He kissed her first on the lips and then on her neck and fumbling youthful fevor that made her loins grow warm and her entire body tremble in passionate acceptance. Then, he pushed her onto her back and sat up on the edge of the bed, staring down at the beautiful woman in unbelieving joy at his own good fortune.
Margret was past all thought or reason, aware of nothing but the glorious sensations created by the youngster's hands and lips against her flesh. She stared glassy-eyed at the ceiling, her arms and legs askew as they had fallen when he gently shoved her away from him and righted himself beside her. The white nylon band of her panties was clearly visible beneath the narrow crotch of her brief shorts and Peter's eyes widened as he stared at the tiny tendrils of soft blonde pubic hair that curled invitingly out around the edges of the tight elastic leg bands that stretched tautly around her creamy thighs.
With smoky half-closed eyes, Margret stared up at the boy who leaned over her, an eager smile etched almost obscenely on his innocent young features. This was impossible, it couldn't be happening to her, not after all these years, she thought incredulously. For the first time since her divorce, the beautiful divorcee felt real hunger for the man she was with, felt like a living female animal, all her thousands of tiny nerves crying out for satisfaction. She was vaguely aware of a desperate struggle going on in her alcohol-dimmed brain, one part of her mind was fully aware of the shameless immorality of what was happening, that she had invited this sweet, perfectly innocent youngster into her home was now inciting him as well as responding to his passionate caresses. But in another part of her brain, a much more persuasive voice was repeating over and over that she wanted this fifteen year old boy more than anything in the world, and he wanted her just as strongly. How could she deny herself, or him, satisfaction of the raging desires that were now coursing between their bodies like ten thousand volts of unleashed electricity.
No longer able to control himself in the presence of this maddening beautiful older woman, Peter groaned and leaned over her prostrate form, his slender hands snaking behind her back to undo the fastenings of her halter, but the excitement that flooded through his mind left him helplessly pulling and tugging at the stubborn device that stood between him and the divorcee's warm, vibrant flesh. Flinging aside the last of her unwanted scruples, Margret rose up on her elbows and reached behind her back with one hand to open the garment before he ripped it from her body. Without pausing for a moment, his fingers dug deeper into her clothing to get at the clasps of her bra, his breath rasping excitingly past her ear as he struggled with the tiny hooks. Smiling at his youthful awkwardness, Margret deftly unsnapped them as well, and then fell back on the bed with a breathless moan, abandoning her body to his grasping fingers as they tore the few scanty pieces of clothing from her upper body, exposing her firmly quivering breasts to his gaze.
She lay motionless on the bedspread, her face glowing with a strange kind of pride as she saw Peter's eyes light wonderingly on her full-swelling white mounds of flesh. A soft moan of lewd delight issued from his open lips and then suddenly his head dipped down, his teeth fastening babyishly onto the rosy upturned nipple of her heaving left breast. Margret groaned in pain, attempting to twist away from the unexpected sharp bite, but his hands, roaming wildly over her thighs and hips, held her firmly to the mattress. His searching lips greedily explored the soft, palpitating mounds, nipping and kissing the warm female flesh until a blissful twitch of glorious feeling descended feather-like to her loins below. Margret's still-clad buttocks began a slow, impatient grinding down into the bed.
"God, you're so beautiful, ma'am," he groaned as he worshipfully kissed and licked over her ears and throat, then back down over her heaving breasts, and further, until his hot pointed tongue swabbed hungrily at the tiny indentation of her naval above her cotton shorts. His fingers played indecisively for a moment at the waistband of the brief pants and then he looked up at her, his glazed blue eyes clearly displaying the agony of his need.
"Please, ma'am, I got to, I just got to," he moaned out in a plea for understanding as he fumbled down the zipper of her shorts and hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband of her panties, pulling both garments down over her hips in one surprisingly powerful movement. Then, he slithered up beside her on the bed and kissed her on the mouth, his own lips wide and open and his tongue probing her lips and teeth. Like some wanton animal, Margret felt her body responding with equal abandonment and her tongue burrowed deep into his fresh young mouth. Suddenly, he was above her, swiftly undressing.
"Peter ... Peter ... we...." the blonde waveringly began, her voice betraying her even as she tried to conjure up some words of protestation. No matter how wickedly exciting it seemed, there was something immoral and wrong in being with the young boy, so close and naked to his lusting gaze. But as the fifteen year old youth dropped one garment after another to the floor, Margret felt all the arguments somehow slipping out of her mind. She shivered at the sight of his young slimly hairless body, and her eyes locked greedily on the throbbing boyish shaft of flesh that jutted from the sparse golden red pubic hair below his flat belly.
"You want to, don't you, ma'am?" the red-haired teenager asked abruptly as he saw her eyes close in resignation. "I've ... I've never done it before. The guys call it fucking, but it wouldn't be fucking with you, ma'am. It's like they say in the books ... we'd be making love."
Margret lay frozen under the bluntness of the obscene word he had used. And yet the innocent sincerity in his expression excited her more and more, so that she was at a loss to understand her violent reactions to what was happening. She could feel the moisture soaking her vagina and crossed her legs to press them closely together, trying to ease the burning sensation that was churning madly in the pit of her stomach. The boy had sunk down on the mattress once again and his fervent kisses and manipulations of her soft pliant flesh were turning her entire body into a loose bundle of raw nerve ends that she was helpless to control. Then his hands seized both her breasts and squeezed them together like huge straining melons and tiny burning pin-pricks of delicious sensation drifted down to her loins as he rolled the sensitive hardening nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. She could feel the moist warmth of his fresh young breath rushing into her ear as he turned her head toward his and locked his mouth wildly against hers. She tried for a moment to twist free of his arms, to make a last futile stand against the seduction she had started and yet was now helpless to restrain, but the needing pressure of his youthful grip was too thrilling for her to resist any longer.
She had forgotten about her husband, Harmen, about the other men, about everything but the marvelous feeling of having this virginal young boy's hot lusting body against her tingling female flesh. Every moral was gone now, every last shred of conscience. Her brain whirled, and she groaned huskily as his hands dropped from her solid swollen breasts to trace the lovely full convexities of her writhing buttocks.
"Please, can I do it to you? Please?" he beseeched between breathless gulping pants.
"Yes! Yes, for God's sake, Peter, do it now!" she moaned. The thrill of hearing herself say the forbidden words coursed through her body, and she started at the realization that she truly did want it as much as this young male animal who was now crawling hotly over her quivering naked form.
She reached out her arms to twine them tightly around his neck, pulling his smooth sun-bronzed chest into the soft whiteness of her breasts. She was a slave to the surges of hot longing that made her ache to have him inside of her and there was no thought in her mind but excited anticipation for the moment when he would bury his hard, thin young penis deep into her hungering vagina. Margret felt him uncertainly prying her trembling thighs far apart, then joyfully lifted her pelvis to meet the welcome weight of his hips as he climbed between her legs, positioning his body in a push-up posture over her now spread-eagle form.
As if in a dream, Peter's boyish features swam before her lusty-glazed eyes and she felt the youthful hardness of his quivering young cock slipping down over the full length of her excitedly soaking vaginal crevice. The lurching head of his rampant hardness rested throbbingly between her widely spread buttocks, insinuating itself up and down the sweat-moistened slit between the divorcee's legs as the boy's hips twisted madly in an effort to place the hard, blood-filled head inside the moist, swollen lips of her open pussy.
At last, no longer able to bear the teasing sensation, the young divorcee reached down between their bodies and grasped the full length of his slender, rock-hard penis. Her tightly closed fist stroked up and down the smooth taut flesh for a moment, feeling its urgent pulsing against her soft palms and the warm sticky fluids that oozed in driblets from the passion-engorged tip. Then, with a deep moan, she guided the thin, arrow-shaped head into the valley of her buttocks, carefully poising it between the hair-framed lips of her inflamed vagina. She steadied it there with one hand and placed the other on the boy's excitedly clenching buttocks, drawing with all her strength to pull it into her, to let it drown once and for all the gnawing heat that burned out of control in her belly. Her eyes closed in ecstasy as she felt its first soft electrical contact against the sensitive ragged edges of her moistly throbbing pussy, then she held her breath for what seemed like an eternity as she lay in utter wantonness beneath the teenager, waiting for him to impale her on his rigidly thin rod of hot pulsating flesh.
"Now, Peter, now," she pled, her voice trembling as she felt him slowly pressurizing against the tight elastic opening of her vagina.
It slipped in slowly at first, spreading and stretching in spite of its boyish size, the tight unused walls of her vagina deliciously. Margret winced at the sensation of pleasure mixed with pain as it seemed to slide in forever, filling and stretching her cunt more than she believed possible. Peter was lost in the throes of his first sexual experience with a woman, and suddenly his no longer innocent face twisted into a contorted expression of raw animal lust as he looked down at his first woman wantonly spread-eagled beneath him, the head of his fiery young penis slipping into the moist, rippling walls of her pussy. He gasped and fell forward, his boyish weight smashing her full rounded tits tightly back against her chest as he thrust his hips forward to slide his long, pulsating cock into her cunt like a driving piston, pushing the soft moist flesh of her vaginal walls in velvety waves before its blunt head. Margret groaned in rapture as she felt his virile young balls slam heavily against the cheeks of her tightly clenched ass and the desire-swollen head of his penis nose gently against her cervix.
A lewd thrill of excitement ran through her and she kicked her feet quiveringly out in the air, locking her arms and legs tight around his tense young body. The sleek inner muscles of her cunt tightened around his throbbing young prick as she pulled him close. The thrill of gratifying so young a boy, of bringing him to a semen-erupting climax up inside her was overpowering. For a frightened moment, she wondered what she must look like, a thirty three year old woman, her legs open wide and a fifteen year old teenager's strong young sexual organ sunk deep up into her belly, but as she felt him begin to experimentally flick his hips back and forth, trying to thrust further and further into her, she abandoned her fears. She felt her breath being whipped away by the sensation of the paperboy plunging his young excited cock up into her hungrily needing pussy and she began grinding her buttocks in the most provocative manner she knew how. She would give this virginal youngster something he would never forget, she passionately vowed. This afternoon, she would teach him all the wonderful things she had been trying so hard to forget.
Peter had never known such pleasure as he was experiencing at that moment. His hips bucked madly up and down to bury the full length of his lust-hardened rod in the delicate moist walls of the beautiful older woman's pussy. He panted heavily as he watched his rock-hard prick, moist with her secretions, pistoning into the coral-hued slit of her beautiful hair-fringed cunt. The sight of her full, white breast joggling beneath his face, the rosy pointed tips like two rounded eyes staring back up at him, was almost more than he could stand. His eyes bulged wider as he gaped down at the ragged pink flanges of the soft fleshy folds of her pussy, drawing back with each slow outstroke, and then swallowed in again as he gently thrust forward into her with the smooth in and out rhythm he had begun. The lovely blonde's eyes opened and closed in a lost glaze of passion and he vaguely wondered if he were hurting the tight, tiny slit he had seen when he pulled off her shorts and panties.
"Oh, God, yessssss ... oh, that's wonderful...." she crooned softly as if reading his thoughts. She was no longer ashamed for having led this magnificent boy to her bed ... not even though he had turned on the hot streak in her and she was now engaged in committing her first act of illicit sex, and revelling in it like the lewd, wanton woman she now knew she was. Her eyes closed as she writhed beneath him from the intensity of her wild, ever-mounting excitement, holding right to his excitedly pulsating cock with the clenching, hair-lined lips of her pussy as hard as she could.
Peter sweated over her, moving suddenly into a series of longer, smoother plunging strokes that brought his fiery rod of flesh almost all the way out of her clutching vagina on the back-stroke and then ramming forward into her until he could feel the blood-engorged head of his cock colliding hard against her cervix deep inside. He felt her begin to thrash wildly beneath him and, instinctively, quickened his thrusts, grabbing her flailing legs behind the knees and shoving them back against her shoulders until her slender ankles locked tightly behind his neck. The glistening, wetly flattened plane of her nakedly sucking vagina was presented up to his youthfully driving lunges, hot and pulsating and deep. The wet, flat smack of his hips thudding against her upturned pelvis resounded through the bedroom as he thrust his young fresh tasting tongue deep into her throat, stifling the low animal groans that were forming there. Then, as if by male instinct, his hands slipped down between the mattress and the white full cheeks of her ass and Peter cupped them in his spread fingers and palms, kneading the warm soft flesh in lewd delight, pulling the smooth rounded globes far apart. His slim muscular shoulders pushing against the back of her full-rounded calves kept her locked in that helpless position while he rammed his plunging shaft into her steaming dilated pussy, sweeping her buttocks wider and wider apart with each desperate forward lunge of his young straining loins.
Margret groaned defenselessly beneath him, her flushed face showing a mixture of emotions. She suddenly realized that she had lost control over the situation, that the passion-strengthened youth had forgotten her and was aware of nothing but the fire of animal lust that raged out of control in his slamming young penis. She was powerless to move as he buffeted her helpless now jelly-like body along the bed, driving her up toward the headbord with every pounding lunge-even her arms were pinned down at her sides by her own updrawn legs and she could feel the hard blood-filled head sliding up and down inside her warm viscous passageway like a well-oiled piston. His sperm-bloated little balls slapped loudly against her nakedly working anus each time he crushed his loins down into the valley of her buttocks and wafts of cool air rushed maddeningly between her widely spread thighs each time he withdrew. One of his hands reached up to grasp her full heaving breasts, twisting and squeezing them with a savage brutality that seemed unnatural for the gentle youth she had met only this afternoon, teasing and tugging at the hard pink nipples until Margret thought they would surely burst from his wild manipulations.
This wasn't what she had meant to do, this wasn't what she had intended at all, she groaned inwardly as he dug more deeply into her, pinning her flatter to the bed and restricting her movement until she thought she would go mad unless she could move with him as freely as she wanted. But before she could protest, she felt herself growing aroused again, growing more passionate by the second, by each stroke of his excited young cock into her hot willing cunt. Though she missed his innocent awkwardness of a few minutes ago, Margret suddenly realized that it was unimportant next to the delicious throbbing of her cunt and her body began to match his driving thrusts with her own rhythmic thrashings. The straining springs of the bed squeaked loudly in time to the two tightly entwined bodies struggling wildly against each other. The gutteral sounds of deep panting grunts and groans filled the tiny house, mingling with the moist noises of sweat-soaked flesh smacking sharply against sweat-soaked flesh and the moist viscous slurp of the boy's pile-driving young cock pounding madly in and out of the beautiful divorcee's wet sucking cunt.
"Oh, yes ... yes ... yesssssssss...." she crooned mindlessly as she humped madly upward with her hips. Margret could feel her climax approaching and the rosy hue of her face brightened and deepened as her body began to twist and contort beneath him. Her head thrashed wildly from side to side on the bed, her full lower lip thrust out in abandon. She waved her buttocks into the air, spiraling her excited cunt up and down his burrowing, hotly expanded cock. As her hands darted behind his driving buttocks, pulling him as far as humanly possible into her open loins, Peter felt the hot white cum boiling in his heated testicles. He grunted savagely and quickened his strokes, grinding hard and deep until his tingling cock bored far up into the hidden, untouched recesses of her womb.
Suddenly, she shivered beneath him!
"Oh, my God, my baby ... I'm cuuummmmmmiiinnnggg. I'm cuuummmmmmiiinnnggg!" Her groaning voice rose to a whine of ecstasy as her body stiffened and began vibrating uncontrollably, her own wet white fluids oozing from her wildly quivering vagina and drowning the boy's impaling young member in its sticky warmth.
The red-haired youth paused for a moment, startled by the older woman's orgasmic convulsions, then went beserk as she gasped out her climax against his matted pelvis, her body jerking spasmodically as his harshly kneading hands pulled the widely spread cheeks of her smooth white buttocks hard up against his writhing pelvis and he jammed his exploding cock all the way to the hilt, in the heated depths of her desperately contracting vagina.
Margret thought her insides were about to split apart as she felt the head of the deeply sunk cock flex and flare into a hugeness that threatened to tear into her sexually unaccustomed belly. Then, suddenly, he too erupted, his hot, creamy young liquid spurting deep up into her widely stretched pussy, mixing deliriously with the juices of her own cumming. Her mind whirled in a seemingly endless orgasm as the sweet boiling sperm pumped deep inside her, filling her to overflowing with its hot sticky wetness. The hungry walls of her cunt clasped and unclasped around it, gratefully milking at the jerking organ like a sucking, starving mouth, Cum juices flowed wetly out around his still surging cock, spilling down into the soft, excitedly tensing crevice of her buttocks and flooding down over his balls and the base of his penis as he drubbed relentlessly into her. Brilliant flashes of light filled the divorcee's brain as she continued to pant out her mind-shattering orgasm, her orgasmic fluids still flowing in uncontrollable spurts down the full quivering spheres of her grinding ass.
"Oh, God, don't stop! Don't stop!" she cried dazedly. The ravenous pores of her vagina squeezed at the viril, lurching young prick until it finally gave one last spasmodic throb and then lay still inside her still slowly writhing belly.
The gasping teenager collapsed exhaustedly across her body, feeling her insides still gushing forth around his rapidly deflating penis. At last, she too, trembled to stillness, her legs falling loosely on either side of his panting body as the young paperboy's grip on her buttocks slowly relaxed and was finally released altogether. Her firm, perfectly molded body felt drained of everything and Margret could feel her belly filled to the bursting point with the warm, heated mixture of their orgiastic juices. A few moments later, his slim, hairless young body rolled off her, breathing thickly in an effort to fill his lungs with air. The beautiful blonde groaned as she felt his cock sliding slowly out of her sperm-flooded cunt, then sighed with relief as a cool rush of summer breeze laved her spent, sweat-soaked body.
Peter lay motionless beside her, trying to recover his strength and collect his thoughts after the afternoon's unexpected windfall of good fortune. He stared almost reverently at the beautiful woman's still form, almost embarrassed by the sight of the wet, semen-soaked furrow of her sex glistening wetly in the fading light of the early evening. The insides of her thighs were heavily smeared with the white sticky sexual juices that trickled in tiny rivulets out of her vagina to form a moist, lewd pool between her widely splayed thighs. Though he was weak with exhaustion, the fifteen year old felt a stirring in his loins at the thought of his unbelievable conquest of the beautiful woman and he wondered how he could ever express his gratitude to her. Peter remembered Bret's taunting jibes about the fact that neither he nor the other boys had ever had a woman before, but now the red-haired boy wondered if Bret really knew what he was talking about, or if he was just repeating all the exciting things his older brother Wally had told him. Bret had never said anything about a woman going wild like this one had and just thinking about it made Peter want to climb right back between her still limply opened legs and do it all over again.
"I ... I want to thank you, ma'am," Peter finally whispered tentatively, staring curiously at Margret's now-peaceful face. He recalled how she had looked a few minutes ago, when she had been groaning out her climax, and the inexperienced youth could hardly believe it was the same woman. "That was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I mean, I didn't know that it was going to be anything like that."
Too sated and happy to stir, Margret merely smiled contentedly at the youngster's words. It had been such a long time since she had had a male ejaculate up inside her and fill her with the warmth of his semen that she barely dared make comparisons, but secretly she thought that Peter's cock might well have been the best thing that ever happened to her, too.
"Are you all right, ma'am?" the tousle-haired boy inquired, feeling a slight pang, of alarm at her lifelessness. "I didn't mean to hurt you. God, I wouldn't hurt you for the world. I thought you were liking it...."
As she heard the anxiety in his young voice, Margret lazily opened her eyes and hoisted herself up onto her elbows. How could she begin to tell this innocent youngster that he had cured what had been "hurting" her for the past ten years? she mused warmly. What she felt now, the golden glow of satisfaction that had saturated her body from her head to the tips of her toes, was almost too much for her to comprehend, let alone explain to this sweet young boy beside her on the bed.
"I was liking it, Peter," she said, smiling lovingly up to his still-flushed face. "It was wonderful. You held back for so long. ... I can hardly believe that you've never done it before today."
"Oh, well, I...." he falteringly began, then blushed a deep scarlet. "I never did, but lots of times in the day, I ... well, I...."
"Oh, you mean you play with yourself," Margret prompted him with a gentle chuckle. "Well, I'm glad you did. It made it better for the both of us, didn't it?"
"I ... I don't know, ma'am," he replied uncomfortably, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed at everything that had happened to him. Nobody had ever told him that it would be this easy and uncomplicated and he began to feel a little confused about the apparent calmness of the woman beside him. He searched his brain to find the missing factor, then remembered what he had read in all the novels that he had stolen from his father's bedroom closet. "Mrs. Griffy, uh, when two people do that, aren't they supposed to be in love or something?"
"Of course, Peter. And I do love you," Margret murmured dreamily, realizing only after she had said it that the sweet satisfaction she felt right now was very like the feelings she had had for Harmen and still had, "Don't you feel sort of the same way, Peter?"
To her delight, the youth smiled at her with affection that bordered on adulation. "Ma'am, I just don't know how to say what I feel," he said slowly. "I guess, I wish that everybody could feel like I do right now!"
"Everybody's not as nice as you are, Peter," she glowed, then sobered as a frightening thought suddenly occurred to her. "Darling, you're not going to tell anyone about what happened this afternoon, are you? Your parents might not understand...."
Beaming as he heard her use the affectionate term, the red-haired boy passionately shook his head. "My folks don't understand about anything and I couldn't tell the guys about you. They wouldn't understand about ... love." Then, as though her words had triggered some sort of memory in his mind, Peter glanced at the bedside clock and stared aghast at the time. "Wow, I have to hurry. I've still got half my paper route to go. And I have to go see Jeff before I go home."
Despite her sated exhaustion, Margret felt a quickening of her pulse at the remembrance of the brawny dark-haired boy who had accompanied Peter to her door that afternoon and, even though she felt guilty at her sudden rush of excitement, she couldn't help but ask, "Was he with you this afternoon? He seemed like a very nice boy ... not like some of the others around here."
"Oh, he's all right, I guess. There's something wrong with his head. He's a lot older than me, but he acts just like a little kid." Peter shrugged as he bent to pick up his scattered clothing. "I take care of him when the other guys act like they're mad at him. He's awfully big and he could get into a whole lot of trouble if nobody watched him."
But Margret was too preoccupied with watching the gradual disappearance of his smoothly naked young flesh, as he donned one garment after another, to pay much heed to what he was saying. She signed with regret as he pulled his jeans up over the beautiful boyish penis that had thrilled her so that afternoon. She was already hungry to touch it again, to feel its gleaming hardness boring down into the soft depths of her long-neglected pussy. Though she could not forget the harsh and dangerous realities of her situation, she nevertheless felt an undeniable glow of satisfaction and a glorious sense of adventure in her illicit relationship with the teenager standing beside her rumpled bed. She lay there for a moment longer, then gathered her strength for the tremendous effort of rising to her feet. The beautiful blonde gasped as she felt her knees buckle as she rose from the mattress and then remembered the quantity of liquor she had drunk that afternoon before the boy had arrived.
"You'd better let yourself out, Peter," she said as she sunk dizzily back onto the sperm-soaked bedspread. "I'm a little tired, I think."
"Okay. See you tomorrow," he breezily said over his shoulder as he headed for the door. Then, as an afterthought, he returned to the bedside and leaned over her prostrate form, planting a tender kiss on her open lips. "Good-bye ... uh, darling," he whispered self-consciously, then rushed through the doorway, blushing a bright red.
Margret waited for the sound of the front door latch, then dissolved into helpless half-drunken giggles of amusement at his youthful ineptitude. But her laughter quickly faded as she remembered the devouring orgasm that had wracked her body as she writhed under his inexperienced loins. It had been wonderful, better than she ever would have believed possible, and she drifted off to sleep, vaguely wondering why she had denied herself so much pleasure for all those lonely years.
CHAPTER THREE
"Gee whiz, Peter, where ya been?"
The red-haired teenager stared aghast at the hulking youth who was laboriously climbing to his feet from where he had been sitting on the curb in front of Margret Griffy's new home. Remembering the beautiful woman's instructions, he searched his brain for some sort of explanation for his prolonged visit.
"I ... well, we were just talking, Jeff," he said, feeling the heat rushing to his face as he wondered if the dim-witted youth had heard Mrs. Griffy's cries of passion. Hoping to make his excuse more plausible to the child-man before him, he hurriedly added, "She wanted to give me some candy, that's all, and we just got to talking. Now, I've got to deliver these papers in a big hurry, so go on home."
"Yeah, okay, Peter," he acquiesced, a crestfallen expression on his handsome face. "Golly, I been waitin' here a long time. Everybody's gone in to dinner all ready. Do you think she might give me some candy, too? Maybe tomorrow?"
"No, Jeff, not until she gets some more," the red-haired boy patiently lied. "Now, go home. I've got to do my deliveries before I get fired."
"Yeah, okay," Jeff slowly repeated as his friend turned to stride hurriedly up the street, tossing papers with unusual carelessness toward doorways and porches in his effort to get his route done and be home in time for dinner. The tall, dark-haired boy stared after him, his narrow brow wrinkling with the effort of trying to understand why it would take Peter so long to eat some candy. Finally, he gave it up as one more of the many things in the world he could not comprehend.
But tomorrow, for sure, he vowed as he began to amble toward his own home, tomorrow he was going to stay with Peter all the way through his delivery route. Peter was his friend, and if Peter was going to get candy, then he wanted his share, too!
"There, that's done!" Margret signed as she carefully placed the last glass in the tall kitchen cabinet that held all her dishes and glassware. She had spent the whole day cleaning and really examining her new home and now, at five in the afternoon, she realized that there was no more to do. Every chair and table had been dusted or scrubbed, every plate and pan washed and polished. And she gratefully realized that the day's busy work had made her feel much better.
Hanging the damp dish towel on the metal rack beside the kitchen sink, she once again'mentally thanked the kindly old dentist for letting her have the day off, without so much as a question as to her reason. Thinking back, she didn't blame him for not inquiring further when she called his home after she awakened at seven-thirty this morning. She had felt as though she were on the edge of a nervous breakdown and the beautiful blonde now realized that her distress must have shown in her voice.
The thirty-three year old divorcee strolled into her living room, trying to shake the somber mood that had suddenly reappeared as she recalled her first hour this morning. But, like the dull, burning ache in her pussy, the dark feeling of depression would not be banished or ignored. Both were the unhappy results of an action that she could not justify to herself no matter how hard she tried.
Margret pulled back the draperies to let more cheering sunshine into her living room, then sat down in an easy chair, propping her slim ankles up on the coffee table. It was almost impossible for her to believe that she had actually seduced a fifteen year old neighborhood boy, but the lewd sight of her bedspread this morning, stiffened and white with dried cum fluids, left no room for doubt in her mind. The cotton coverlet was clean now, hanging on the clothesline in her back yard, but the beautiful blonde knew she would never be able to totally purge from her mind the shock she had felt earlier that day when she had awakened, her head throbbing painfully with a hangover and the obscene evidence of her shameless depravity smeared all over her bed and her still-naked body.
After calling the dentist, she had simply collapsed back on the bed, sobbing gently in disbelief. But after a few minutes, she realized that she would have to pull herself together, to somehow decide what she would have to do about Peter, and about her own uncontrollable urges. She had almost felt as though another person, someone viciously evil and immoral, had been in control of her body and her mind for the past few days, making her do and feel things that were absolutely foreign to her nature. She wondered what warped thing in her own mind could have caused her to lead that sweet young boy into her bed yesterday afternoon ... and worse, encourage him on as he abandoned his innocence to satisfy her perverted desires.
Margret had pondered these things for well over an hour, unable to answer any of the questions that ran through her mind. In fact, the more she thought about the whole situation, the more distraught and confused she became. At last, she had decided to try to clear her head by occupying herself with the house cleaning and later, when she was more rational, she would make a decision about what should be done.
Now, as she rose from the couch and headed back into her bedroom, Margret thought she might be approaching an answer. The young boy was undoubtedly going to come by this afternoon and when he arrived, she would simply have to try to explain what had happened, in terms his young mind would be able to understand. It would not be easy, she knew, but she was certain that Peter was an intelligent and sensitive youth who would make every effort to comprehend what she would tell him.
Yes, there was no doubt at all that the boy was intelligent, Margret mused as she stripped off her clothing in preparation for a quick shower to wash away the grime accumulated in a day of cleaning. He had been completely virginal and inexperienced yesterday, and yet, he had somehow sensed exactly what she had needed ... how to touch her most sensitive areas and when to plunge his rod of hard stiffened flesh into her hungry vagina until she exploded again and again in the most incapacitating and satisfying orgasms she could ever remember having experienced.
Suddenly, the curvaceous divorcee realized that she was trembling, her skin tingling as though it were covered with a sheet of fire. Margret could feel the strength steadily leaving her body as she remembered the thin boyish prick spearing in and out of her hot willing vagina, swelling and throbbing inside her expanded pussy until it erupted with a burst of boiling sperm that warmed and laved the most secret part of her body.
"No! N ... no, please, not again," she cried out to the empty bedroom, then fled to the bathroom to douse her passions in the cold water of the shower.
* * *
Peter pulled the next to the last newspaper from his orange pouch and placed it carefully on the porch of the house at 9 Cedar Ct., then broke into a smile of anticipation as he folded the copy of the Sacramento Evening News yet to be delivered to the white stucco duplex. He thought of Mrs. Griffy's soft white body and the way she had made him cum yesterday afternoon, then blushed as he felt his penis start to jerk in his pants. He thought of walking around the block, just to tease himself before he rang her doorbell, but then thought the better of it. After all, he had waited almost an hour this afternoon at the newspaper office, just so that he could get his delivery copies as soon as they left the presses, and it was silly to waste any of the precious time he had saved by his trouble. It was only five and he was already finished with his route, almost an hour before he usually picked up the papers at the corner. Would Mrs. Griffy ever be surprised and happy to see him this early, he gloated to himself. And today they would have lots of time before he had to go home for dinner...."Peter! Hey, Peter!"
The slender red-haired boy heard the familiar husky voice as he saw Jeff loping around the corner at the far end of the block and his heart sunk at the thought that he would somehow have to convince his feeble-minded friend that he couldn't play again this afternoon. The tall, black-haired youth was peering closely into every doorway as he ambulated down the sidewalk, looking for his buddy and, hopefully, some candy in the bargain.
"Hey, Bret, ya seen Peter? I wanna go with him to the new lady's house and get some candy!"
Peter almost jumped with joy as he watched Jeff move closer to the window of a home a couple of doors down the street. The red-haired boy could no longer hear the conversation his dim-witted friend was having with the other boy inside the house, but he recognized his chance and sprinted from the bushes he had been hiding behind to the tiny white duplex next door.
But his empty burlap pouch fluttered behind him like a flag and as he mounted Margret's steps, he heard Jeff's triumphant whoop. Suddenly panicky, Peter leaned hard on the doorbell and did not let up until the front door opened and Margret's dripping face peered around the frame to see who was outside.
"Peter! Peter, wait for me!" the hulking youth cried out as his slim red-haired friend stepped inside the doorway. "I want some, too!"
"No, Jeff, not today! Go play with Bret!" Peter called firmly, grabbing the doorknob from the drenched, towel-wrapped Margret to slam it tightly shut.
The handsome, muscular youth stood blankly at the bottom of the steps leading up to Margret's door, wondering why his best friend had gotten so mean all of a sudden. He considered stomping up and ringing the doorbell to demand his rights as Peter's buddy ... after all, Peter always gave him candy lots of other times ... when he heard a voice calling from a house down the block.
"Hey, Jeff, c'mere for a minute."
He looked down the block to see a grinning face, topped by a shock of bright blonde hair, leaning out the same window he had been standing in front of a minute ago. Jeff's face immediately brightened at the prospect of playing with Bret. Bret wasn't as nice as Peter, but he laughed a lot more, so Jeff assumed he was more fun to hang around with.
"Okay, Bret," Jeff panted as he lumbered back down the street and into the open doorway of his friend's house. "What do you wanna do?" he inquired excitedly as he dropped heavily into the armchair the blond pointed out.
"Aw, nothin' much," Bret shrugged with studied nonchalance as he, too, seated himself. "By the way, what's old Peter doin' over at that broad's house?"
"Gee whiz, I don't know. She gives him candy all the time," the big boy said glumly. "But they won't let me have none...."
"Oh yeah? Tell me about it, buddy," Bret prompted with a knowing smirk forming on his freckled face.. "She wouldn't give me or the guys none either."
"What do you mean, 'not today'?" Margret coldly demanded of the boy who stood panting inside her doorway. "What did you tell that boy?"
Water was streaming down her long slender legs to form soggy pools on the throw rug beneath her feet but she didn't pay any attention. In her shocked astonishment at the conversation she had heard, Margret didn't even remember that she was clad in nothing but the bathtowel she had hurriedly wrapped around herself when she rushed from the shower to answer the insistent ringing of the front doorbell.
"Why ... nothing. I didn't tell him anything," Peter answered in bewilderment. He had dreamed all day and all last night of coming to see his beautiful new lover again, but now he sensed there was something terribly wrong. Didn't she like him anymore? "What's the matter, ma'am? I've been hurrying all day and got my paper route done early, just to come and see you. Are you mad at me?"
Margret stared at the wide-eyed expression on his face and felt like gritting her teeth in exasperation. Had he told every boy on the block? Would she be harrassed by those young ruffians she had met the other day? Or even worse, would his somehow find out and send her to jail for contributing to the delinquency of a minor? She felt fear overtaking her mind like a creeping sickness and she reached out to grab his hand, holding it in her own trembling fingers as she repeated the question.
"Peter, what did you mean when you said, 'not today?' "
"Oh, don't worry about him," the red-haired youth smiled reassuringly up at her. "That's just Jeff. He always wants to play with me. I had to tell him to go mess around with the other guys."
"Oh, please, don't tease me like this," she moaned softly, feeling tears of shame and fright welling up in her eyes. "Jeff, for God's sake," she gasped, struggling to keep down the sobs that were threatening to rise from her heaving chest, "Did you tell ... uh, Jeff ... did you tell him about" what ... w ... we ... did yesterday afternoon? Did you tell anybody?"
"Gosh! Oh, no," he said stoutly as the light of comprehension dawned on his face. "I'd never tell anybody about us!"
"Then why did you say, 'not today'?" she tearfully insisted.
Peter stared hard at the floor for a moment as he tried to remember what he had said to Jeff, then he looked up at her with a beautiful smile. "I forgot. He wanted to know where I was going, so I told him you wanted to give me some candy," the teenager said simply. "I guess he wanted some, too."
"Candy? Oh, no," she giggled as relief flooded over her. "Candy!" Helpless with laughter, she collapsed against the startled boy who joyfully wrapped his arms around her and amiably joined in her mirth. "Oh, Peter, forgive me. I thought ... well, never mind. It's not important now."
After the crippling fear she had felt, Margret now was so delighted with the red-headed youngster's cleverness that she joyfully twined her arms around him, nuzzling her face down into his shoulder. It felt good in his sinuous young arms, even better than she remembered from the night before, and for a moment, Margret didn't object when she felt the towel slipping slowly down her back and his fingers softly massaging down the raised ridges of her spine. Then, without warning, Peter gently pushed her forehead out of the smooth hollow of his neck and locked his lips up to hers, his probing young tongue driving hard into the warm cavern of her mouth. The beautiful divorcee's body responded involuntarily and their two bodies began to writhe against each other, their hands hungrily exploring the other's bodies. As her towel dropped completely away from her body, falling into a sodden heap on the floor, Margret suddenly remembered her resolution to stop this unnatural affair.
"Peter ... Peter, wait...." she mumbled brokenly as she tried to tear her lips away from his hot mouth. With desperate effort, she managed to pull herself free of his grip and she stepped back against the wall in the entranceway, fighting for her breath. "Peter, we have to talk. I've been thinking about things, and...."
"Later, we can talk later," the red-haired youth interrupted her in a determined voice she had never heard him use before. Startled she stared hard into his face and saw pure animal lust gleaming dully from his eyes, the passion she had ignited yesterday afternoon when she had wantonly led him into her bed. "First, I want to touch you and kiss you. I want to do it to you again ... now!"
"Peter, listen to me!" Margret snapped sharply as the youth reached out to stroke one of the twin fleshy moons of her naked breasts. But he seemed not to hear her, and she angrily cried out again, "Damnit, Peter, stop it! Do you hear me?"
Her cold fierceness shocked him and he stared questioningly at her, his soft young hand halted in its exploration of her heaving chest. The red-haired teenager was disturbed and confused that she was shunning him like this and his disbelieving hurt showed in his eyes. There was a long silence as they exchanged uneasy glances, then the boy spoke again. "Ma'am, did I do something wrong? You aren't angry at me, are you? God, I think I'd rather die than have you not like me anymore."
The contrite, doleful tone of his voice made Margret instantly sorry that she had treated the sweet youngster so harshly in order to contain her own shameless desire for him. She remembered how innocent and thoughtful he had been yesterday afternoon and wondered how she could have been so cruel to the obviously sensitive boy. It had not been his fault but hers.
"No, darling, I'm not angry," she finally said softly. "It's just that I think that we'd better not ... well, do what we did yesterday any more. If you'll give me my towel, we can go into the living room and I'll explain why."
"All right, ma'am, if that's what you want," he said slowly, heartbreaking disappointment showing on his face. "But please, if it's okay with you, could I just touch your titties again," he whispered, gazing beseechingly into her eyes. "They're so beautiful and I want to remember...."
Margret had not the heart to deny him the simple request and she nodded mutely, gathering all her strength to resist the temptation she knew was about to come.
Peter's blue eyes sparkled with tears of boyish misery as he took one step away from her to study more carefully the perfect contours of her ripe naked body. His eyes moved slowly over her gleaming ivory flesh, drinking in all the exciting beauty of the older woman's generous rounded curves. Then, with a barely audible sigh, he moved closer again, reaching out with the very tips of his fingers to stroke the velvety softness of her skin.
Margret felt a warm flush of sympathy for the boy as his fingers stroked worshipfully down over her throat and she relaxed back against the wall, knowing that she had done the right thing by allowing him this farewell visit with her naked body. She closed her eyes and smiled softly at the soothing gentleness of his touch as his hands moved downward, pausing only momentarily to cup the full mounds of her breasts before traveling onto the taut flatness of her belly. The lovely blonde clenched her eyes more tightly shut as the relacing sensation gradually changed to a warm tingling deep between her thighs when his fingernails lightly scraped over the sensitive flesh at the soft, furred mound of her pubic triangle but she vowed to hold her emotions in control, for his sake as well as hers. As his young uncalloused palms rubbed softly over the tender flesh of her inner thighs, Margret felt the sensation grow to an insistantly throbbing itch deep in her belly and she had to struggle to keep from crying out from the sheer pleasure of his touch.
Just one more minute, another minute and he'll be finished, she anxiously told herself as she fought to control the desire that was already raging in her loins, then suddenly she felt his hands lift from her trembling naked body. She waited a moment for her passion to recede, not wanting to show him the lust that would betray her the moment she opened her eyes. It was hard, so hard to deny herself this boy's beautiful young body, but she had sworn to do it and she would-somehow.
Peter stared at the exciting female body standing naked before him and felt his temple beating with the force of his lust and need for her. He recalled the sensation of her naked white breasts pressed firmly into his own bare chest and saw that now they were warm and gleaming with her female perspiration. He ached to take them into his hands again, to finger the hard bud-like nipples that were like red flags before his impassioned eyes. His nostrils were full of the scent of her, causing the now-familiar cravings to spread through out his entire body and ignite his nerve endings like a thousand tiny pin-pricks.
His hand slipped silently down to the pulsing bulge filling his trousers and suddenly all his hesitation and worry about this wonderful woman fell away. Everything slid from his mind except the agonizing demands of his maleness and the erotic pulsations thumping in his groin, launching him boldly forward toward the irresistable temptation of Margret's body.
At last, no longer able to restrain himself from touching her, he moved his hands behind her and reached down to clutch her bared buttocks, massaging the soft, pliant flesh gently. Margret's eyes flew open in surprise and she gave a tiny moan of protest, but neither of them had the strength any longer to resist what was happening.
"No, Peter, we can't do it again," she murmured unconvincingly as his head dipped down to suck one of her soft throbbing nipples into the warm cavern of his fresh young mouth. Her head fell limply back against the wall behind her as she felt his fingers dancing over the tingling flesh of her lower belly then worm in between her quivering thighs to part her softly curling pubic hair and tease gently at the swelling lips of her involuntarily pulsating vagina. Involuntarily, her own hand reached out to struggle momentarily with the zipper of his pants, frantically feeling for his young virilely aroused cock.
Probing through his underwear, Margret's hand felt his naked flesh and gasped with surprise. It was bigger than she had remembered, hard and hot to her touch, ramrodded straight up against his sinewy belly. As her hand locked around it, a silent pulsating glow of warmth began to spread through her loins and flood the area around her clitoris.
"The couch ... we have to go sit down and talk, Peter," the blonde mumbled, drunk on the obscene pleasure that was coursing through her veins like a fire out of control. Her vaginal slit was becoming more and more moist under the manipulations of his probing fingers and she looked down and saw his face change into that of a wild youthful savage with the motion of her hand on his cock, stroking it up and down its length in a milking movement. "Have to talk...." she feebly repeated, trying to remember what in the world there was to talk about at a time like this, and finally she gave up the last shred of her resistance.
"Lie ... on the floor," Margret said huskily, pushing him back a little as she spoke. Peter did not have to be told twice....He immediately responded, backing up to the large carpet in front of the living room couch, grasping her hand to pull her with him. He sunk to his knees in front of her, then stared expectantly up at the beautiful woman standing over him.
Margret stood still for a moment, feeling the firm resilient mounds of her breasts swelling and quiverifig even more as tremors of greedy hunger for the young boy made her whole body shake. This was her last chance, she fearfully thought, she could tell him now and maybe he would understand, but once she got down there on the floor, she knew there would be no turning back. She looked away for a minute, staring out the window into the sunlit street outside, hoping to regain control of her body and emotions as she watched the children playing on the sidewalk. Then, suddenly, his lips pressed tightly against the nude flesh of her belly, causing her to sway and almost fall with shocked surprise.
The sudden wet contact sent a chill of excitement racing up the length of Margret's spine, and she automatically reached forward with both hands to grab his head to keep from toppling over. Her eyes glazed over with passion as he dropped his lips down to the mound of her crotch, spreading the softly curling pubic hair with his thumbs and flicking his tongue slowly into the moist flowering slit of her vagina. "Oh, God!" Margret moaned and jumped at the electrifying touch of his tongue against the tiny hard bud of her clitoris and she staggered backward out of his grip.
"Come down, ma'am ... please," he gasped, patting the flowered carpet at his knees. "I want to kiss you there between your legs. Please, let me. Just this once."
Her head swimming, Margret dreamily allowed the still-dressed boy to pull her naked body down to the floor beside him, and then lay sprawled on the rug as he groaningly tugged his hardened young penis from the constricting tightness of his pants. The aroused divorcee stared hungrily at the rigid pulsing rod of flesh and her belly quivered and heaved spasmodically as though he had already sunk the long gleaming cock extending out from his open fly deep into her throbbing belly. She reached out to touch it, then groaned in disappointment as he suddenly crawled away from her searching hand, prying her thighs wider apart to clamber between them. Margret could see him haunched on all fours staring up at her through the deep valley between her proud upstanding breasts. She watched as his tongue nervously circled his lip in preparation for the feast of pink moist flesh that was presented in defenseless offering up to his innocent young face.
Peter stared disbelieving at the hair-covered vee of her open loins, his mouth watering as his wide blue eyes locked on the spectacle of it grinding around, rotating sensuously, expectantly, just below his lips. Droplets of saliva dribbled down his chin to mingle with her rising vaginal juices in the delicious narrow split that began at the bottom of her smooth white belly and trailed down between the creamy twin spheres of her buttocks pressed tightly against the carpet. He gazed in wondering astonishment for a full minute and then looked up into her eyes.
"I've never seen anything like that before, ma'am. It's really beautiful," he softly exclaimed. "I've never done this before either, but if you don't like it, I'll stop right away. I just want to taste and kiss it for a minute, okay?"
Before Margret could force a word out of her tightly constricted throat, Peter's head dropped down out of her sight between her open thighs and his hot moist lips closed over the softly quivering mound at the base of her belly. She raised her head to watch in open-mouthed amazement as he planted wet tickling kisses on the still tightly closed little opening, his tongue flicking hesitantly at the quivering slit.
The beautiful divorcee was beside herself with the agonizing delight of the sensation and, almost before she knew what she was doing, her hands began to move sensuously down over her throbbing breasts, sliding slowly down her smooth flat stomach, settling on either side of her cunt lips. Her fingers stroked indecisively for a moment at the flexing cords of her inner thighs as he continued to rain the moist teasing kisses all over the tingling crevice and then, with an impatient groan, she spread the fleshy hair-framed lips of the moist throbbing furrow open allowing his hungry probing mouth complete access to her moist tender pussy hole.
"Ooooooohhh, oh my God! Ooohhhhhh, yes!" she whimpered as his tongue suddenly shot out to flick its hot searing tip around her quivering erected clitoris. Margret's elbows pressed convulsively against her ribs and her head tossed from side to side on the rug as she felt the young paperboy's lips begin to suck, drawing the warm soft folds of her sex deep into the heated cavern of his mouth.
Startled by her violent response, the youngster lifted his head and stared anxiously at the older woman's face. But the intelligent youth instantly realized that it was impassioned delight that was making her moan and writhe and with a smile of child-like enthusiasm, he went back to his task with renewed vigor. Margret moaned huskily from keep in her throat as the hot searching tip of Peter's tongue suddenly began working its way up and down the length of the narrow wet slit, starting at the base of her belly and wiggling its way downward over the pink -rimmed opening of her clasping vagina and into the crevice of her hungrily clenching buttocks. Her hips ground uncontrollably into the carpet as he paused to explore the tight, brownly throbbing hole of her anus, sending a strange thrill running out or control through her body.
The red-haired teenager worked hungrily, feeling her soft wet pubic hair grazing gently against his smooth boyish cheeks. His hands reached up over the milky flatness of her quivering belly and stroked the soft resilient globes, his fingers tweaking the achingly hard nipples between them to heighten her arousal. He labored enthusiastically as his mouth and tongue worked animal-like between the open lips of her pulsing cunt, his eyes wide open and watching with youthful male arrogance the seemingly agonized contortions of the older woman's beautiful face. Her groans drove his tongue faster as it worked its way up and down the streaming crevice and he knew that, once again, the exciting woman was his, his to carry away to utter sexual frenzy, just like the wildly impassioned women Peter had read about in some of his father's books.
Suddenly, he wanted to bring this ravishing older woman to the conclusion that he was the very best lover she had ever had and forced her thighs open even wider, lifting them and pushing them over her body so that her kneecaps touched the outer swells of her breasts, exposing the whole flat plane of her pelvis to his burning gaze. He ran his tongue into the soft -rimmed flesh of her pussy, flicking at it for a moment and then quickly withdrawing it to tease again around the ragged pink edges.
The youngster smiled inwardly as he felt her hands desperately clawing at his long, red hair, trying to guide his face into the palpitating opening of her cunt. He let her force him exactly where she wanted him to go, pressing his mouth directly over the tight little hole in "her hungrily squirming vaginal split.
As his lips rounded and covered the clasping viscous opening, Peter' drove his long slippery tongue deep into the warm throbbing depths of her pussy and was rewarded by the low gutteral groan from the older woman whose soft white thighs clamped convulsively around his bobbing head. He could feel the smooth moist flesh slipping wetly around his stiffly extended tongue as the inner walls of the invaded vagina opened and closed in a tiny greedy sucking motion as though the nibbling hair-lined mouth were trying to pull his tongue out by the roots, devouring it alive. Her heels pressed down against the back of his shirt pushing his body into the vise-like grip of her thighs until he could barely breathe. His nose was smashed tightly against the tiny hard clitoris above, breathing in the sweet pungent smell of the female lust juices that were now flowing in abundance from the throbbing open passage of her cunt. The tantalizing scent incited his penis to a hardness he could barely control until he was afraid he would explode his hot young semen all over his clothes and the carpet below.
He helpless divorcee's body was lost in the fire of the moment. Every muscle was tensed as she strained her hips upward toward that maddeningly probe between her legs and she felt wave after wave of goosebumps rippling over her quivering belly and full heaving breasts as the boy's head rocked up and down in greedy feast between her legs. Her lips ovaled and moaned in helpless delight before his attack, and suddenly, in spite of all her resolutions and self-recriminations of earlier in the day, she felt her body completely leaving her control. Her buttocks jerked back involuntarily as the darting tongue sent helpless spasms of mind-shattering sensation coursing through her raw nerves.
Peter knew that she was completely his now, had totally surrendered and would surely not be so anxious to end their affair after this afternoon. He triumphantly thrust this wet, excited tongue deeper into the quivering sheath of her vagina again and again, stroking in and out in a savage rhythm as she gyrated her buttocks up against his face.
Suddenly, the lovely blonde began to stiffen and lift her arched back high off the flowered carpet, forcing him to raise his head a little to keep his mouth locked on her pussy. He sensed that the older woman was approaching her orgasm and worked faster to bring her to the grand crest of ultimate sensation. He could feel the smooth walls of her pussy pulsing spasmodically around his. tongue as it fucked frantically into the throbbing depths of her aching cunt.
Suddenly it happened!
"Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!" she sobbed as the paralyzing peak of her pleasure seized her body and she flooded his young babyish lips with the warm wet juices of her climax. A trickle of thin, heated moisture ran down the widely spread crevice of her buttocks and saturated the light brown circle of her anus where his tongue had licked as hotly only a few moments before. Margret felt as though she were losing her insides as her orgasm gushed out around his still-thrashing tongue. Peter sucked hard at the parted vaginal opening and drank the pungent fluid, savoring it like some rare wine, until finally she collapsed back flat on the rug, dropping her legs like heavy weights on either side of her body. She could not have moved if she had wanted to. Equally, exhausted, Peter curled up between her legs, his head pillowed in the softness of her wet, blonde pubic hair, and they lay there together for a moment, totally enveloped by the silence of the room, a silence broken only by the gradually fainter sounds of their breathing.
CHAPTER FOUR
Several moments later, Peter crawled up over her body and pressed his mouth tightly against hers. Margret could feel the warm wetness of her orgasmic juices of his smooth cheeks and she thrust her tongue deep into his mouth in a heartfelt gesture of gratitude for the indescribable pleasure he had just given her. She knew that she should feel horribly ashamed for what had just happened, that she should be angry at this fifteen year old youngster for leading her away from her determination to end their illicit affair, but instead Margret felt warmly thankful to the young paperboy. She wanted to repay him somehow for the unselfish kindness he had bestowed upon her. Suddenly, she felt Peter stirring beside her and the divorcee realized that he was trying to stuff his still-hardened penis back into his clothing.
"I ... I guess I'd better leave now, ma'am" he said unhappily. "I'm sorry if you're mad at me. I guess I shouldn't have done that, but I really wanted to...."
"Oh, Peter, wait a minute," she whispered with a wicked little smile. "Let me just catch my breath and then I want to do you, too. I can't leave you like that, not after you...." Her voice faded into silence as she suddenly realized what she was proposing. Ever since she was old enough to understand, the word "cocksucker" had brought disgusting images of sluttish, wanton girls to her mind, but now she realized that the thought of doing it to this young boy, who was less than half her age, did not sicken her as she would have imagined. Her own loins were still moist and warm from the pleasures he had so unselfishly bestowed on her and anything that made a person feel that good could not be as degrading an act as it had always seemed.
"Wow, really?" he almost shouted in his eagerness. "What ... what do you want me to do?"
"Just he down on your back, darling," she smiled. "I'll do all the rest."
Margret was surprised at her own boldness, but with this sweet, innocent youngster, it was hard to feel that anything was really immoral. She began slowly, first running her tongue over his ears and the hollows of his throat as she carefully unbuttoned his shirt. Then, she lowered her head to the small male nipples on his chest and bit gently, not certain they would respond. She was pleasantly surprised when he writhed slightly beneath her at the strange sensation. She did not know much about the male body and worked slowly to learn.
With one hand, she reached down and unzipped his trousers, pushing the jeans and the white jockey shorts he wore underneath down over his hips until his erect young cock sprung free of its confinement and jerked excitedly up into the air. Grasping the hardened penis tightly, she drew back the thin foreskin in a slow teasing motion that brought soft pleasurable moans from his lips. She began to stroke and massage it, rubbing the skin back and forth and then slipping her slender fingers down lower to his sperm-bloated balls, cradling their velvety softness in her smooth, feminine palm. Peter groaned rapturously at her tender ministrations of his cock and testicles.
Her face was over his loins now and she continued the gentle stroking of the loose foreskin up and down the length of the boy's erectly throbbing penis. Her lips were a bare inch away from its tip and she opened her mouth and breathed softly against it, allowing her hot breath to flow over the taut shiny skin of the blood-filled pulsing head. Peter swallowed deeply as he saw her haunched over his loins, stroking his throbbing hardness with both hands now at the same time, laving it with her sweet warm breath.
Margret's pink tongue flicked out, tentatively touching the sensitive skin of the gland. She circled it around the smooth rubbery flesh and the red-haired teenager groaned and twisted beneath her. The pointed tip of her searching tongue found the tiny opening of the gland at the end and darted wetly into it. Tiny droplets of seminal fluid were already seeping upward from his rising excitement and the sharp pungent taste and odor caused Margret's mouth to water and her nostrils to flare out slightly. Unable to bring herself to take the hard fleshy rod into her mouth just yet, the lovely divorcee began to plant moist warm kisses around the smoothly throbbing little head, beginning at the tip and tracing a path down the full length of it to the base and then back up to the mushroom-shaped tip again. She played longer than she knew she should, but with each passing second, it seemed more and more difficult to imagine allowing the jerking sex organ to slip up into her mouth.
Suddenly, the fifteen year old boy took the decision out of her hands. With a strangled moan from deep in his throat, he reached down with his hands, tangled them in her hair and thrust his slender loins up toward her face. Margret's lips clamped shut as doubt ran wildly through her mind, but the hard swollen head rammed inside, crushing through her soft moist lips and into the warm, wet saliva of her mouth. As he felt the delicious wet warmth of her lips closing over the sensitive, pulsing head of his prick, he lifted his head from the floor and stared down at her passion-contorted face. The sight of his hard thin shaft of flesh sunk halfway between her lipstick-ovaled lips sent wild little chills rippling along the length of Peter's spine and he unconsciously began a slow rhythmic undulation of his hips up into her face.
Margret sensed his increasing excitement and twirled her tongue uncertainly around the moist stickiness of the bulbous head. She began to suck gently, tightening her lips like a pencil-thin elastic band just below the head, trapping it completely in the warm wet cavern of her mouth.
"Oh, God," Peter groaned as he lifted his head higher from the rug to watch the divorcee's penis-contorted face, her lips stretched wide with the thickness of his aching cock buried in her mouth. Margret massaged the soft resilient skin of his testicles gently with one hand and stroked the base of his cock between the thumb and forefinger of the other as she began to suck rhythmically up and down its length. Just the sight of his hard shaft sawing in and out of her ovaled mouth caused Peter's loins to tense more and jerk up into her face until it seemed as though he were ramming the whole length into her slender throat. Practically all of it seemed to disappear with each hard thrust he made until only a short stretch of it showed glistening and white, protruding like the stump of a wet tree from between her roundly distended lips. It was gorged with his fiery blood, a pulsating shaft like a creature with its own existence and desires that he could not control.
Margret was strangely elated by his throbbing reaction and began to suck a little harder, the tips of her teeth digging gently into the hard resisting flesh, leaving small white trails where they had scraped the blood from beneath the surface of the skin. Then, without removing her mouth from his cock, she shifted position over his thighs and knelt on all fours between his open legs. She reached under his slim buttocks and cupped them in her palms, jerking his loins up tighter to her face. Her entire being was focused on the labor of giving him pleasure and she swiped her tongue around and around the growing gland as he rammed the rigid shaft again and again into her throat. She felt like she would choke any minute, but she continued the frenzied sucking on and on, struggling for breath and catching small gasps of air on each outstroke. Her full heavy breasts danced and swayed below her rocking torso and she felt the flesh of her lips being pulled out grotesquely and clinging to the thickness of his cock as she sucked hungrily, her cheeks hollowing and filling with each young virle thrust.
"Oh, suck it, suck it," the teenager gasped through clenched teeth. Margret's body was starting to gleam from the sheen of sweat forming over her skin and Peter began to enjoy the vision of the gorgeous older woman's kneeling subservient position along with the tremendous physical sensation. He had never in his wildest dreams believed that he would know the day when a beautiful woman would do to him what he had heard Bret and his know-it-all brother talking about. But there she was ... he could look down at her and see the top of her head bobbing up and down like a demon over his rigid shaft sunk halfway down into her throat. He felt a strong pressure building up to a pitch in his balls and he knew that it would not be long now. His cock felt like it was ready to explode and spew his hot sperm all over the room. He thrust his hips up violently into her face and heard a sudden mumble of protest from her as his young prick bludgeoned relentlessly far up into the hot wet cavern, banging far back against her desperately working throat. But he didn't care now, he could think of nothing but his need to end this exquisite torturing sensation that was building, building, building, mounting toward the final peak of ecstasy.
Peter moaned over and over again, his mouth opening and shutting as he muttered incoherently, the fire in his balls now unbearable hot. Suddenly he gasped and his cock began a wild staccato jerking that without warning flooded the beautiful woman's greedily sucking mouth with burst after burst of the hot sticky sperm. Her cheeks hollowed and expanded as she greedily swallowed the warm flooding gushes to keep from choking.
"Aaaaaaahhh, suck it, suck it, Mrs. Griffy!" he groaned as he tightened his hands in her hair and convulsively slammed his pulsating cock farther and farther into her mouth and down into her throat.
Margret gagged and coughed spasmodically as she swallowed to regain her breath, but the lovely blonde kept sucking wildly as he continued to shoot his youthfully sweet sperm into her throat. Small droplets of the pungent liquid dribbled from the corners of her mouth as he moaned his last, sighing with relief. Little by little, the exhausted penis deflated in her mouth and Peter panted heavily as he flung out his arms to either side in happy weariness. Margret lay there for another moment or two with her head resting on his thigh, still nibbling softly at the now limp and spent cock. At last she lifted her head and his tiny soft penis slipped out of her lips with a soft reluctant slurping sound.
Margret crawled up alongside Peter's prostrate form then and sat down on the floor a few feet from his head, gazing reflectively down at his angelically peaceful face. It was impossible for her to reconcile the fact that this sweetly smiling youngster who looked like he were about to curl up and sleep on her rug was making her so perverted and sex-hungry that she barely knew herself.
Oh, she had to admit she felt good now, warm and glowing from the satisfaction of her own orgasm and then bringing him to a peak with her mouth, but she knew that wasn't the issue. If she didn't find some way to explain to this youngster that these meetings had to be stopped, Margret knew she was going to wake up in jail some morning, or maybe even lynched by the irate parents of Sacramento.
"Peter, get up. I want to talk to you," she sighed wearily. Margret hated herself already for the pain she knew her announcement would cause in the sensitive boy, but there was no other way.
* * *
"What did ya' see, Bret, huh? Was it good candy or just oT lollipops or something?" Jeff said eagerly as the blond boy stepped back into the living room, a devilish smile twisting his freckled features. The hulking dim-witted youth almost jumped up and down with delight as Bret slowly crossed the room and sunk down in his father's armchair. "Gee whiz, that was sure a funny trick to play on Peter! Come on, tell me ... what did ya' see? Was it good stuff?"
"Absolutely the best, kid," Bret finally said with a strange secret smile. "It's candy like you ain't never had before, Jeff, and one of these days me and you and the guys are gonna get some, too. After all, old Peter shouldn't have it all," he added, watching Jeff for his reaction.
"Yeah, Bret," the handsome half-wit stoutly agreed with a decisive nod. Then, gleefully remembering what they had done, he pressed his friend again. "Come on, how did ya' do it? Just walked right up and looked in the window and they were just gobbling down all this candy? You were gone for a pretty long time...."
"Yeah, well I had to make sure I was seeing it right," the blond said, unable to restrain an evil chuckle. "Anyway, Jeff, that's what they were doin', all right. Old Peter and that broad just sittin' there gobblin' like maniacs, trying to keep it all to themselves."
"Boy, that's really crummy," Jeff sighed, then brightened as he added, "Hey, ya' really think we're gonna get some of that candy too?"
"I guess me and the boys could do it, Jeff, if you promised to give us a little of it, too," Bret said with teasing reluctance. "You know us, we just hate to see anybody gettin' all the candy!"
* * *
"Margret, this is getting ridiculous, You've more than made up for the time you lost. Now go on home and enjoy your new house. After all, it's Saturday."
"But, doctor, I still have to file some of yesterday's registrations and...." The beautiful blonde divorcee shuffled through the few remaining papers on her desk, trying to find another excuse for staying in the doctor's office.
"Child, that's absurd," the old man gently interrupted her. "There's not all that much work here and, besides, you know as well as I do that some hooligans might just pop in here and try to clean out my medicine cabinet if they knew you were here by yourself. Now, scat. I want you out of here in ten minutes."
"Yes, sir," she gloomily answered, responding to the unusual sternness in the doctor's tone of voice. "But it might take a little more than that to get everything organized for Monday...."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, just leave it," he chided her with a hint of impatience. "I just don't know what's wrong with you the past few days, working until all hours of the night and now you won't go home on a Saturday afternoon. Has something gone wrong out your way?"
"Of course not, sir," Margret lied with a too-bright smile. "It couldn't be better. Everything's just ... lovely...."
"Humph, if that's so, then why don't you go home," he asked pointedly. Softening, he continued, "Look child, it's always a bit difficult getting used to a big change in your life, but you're never going to feel at home out there unless you simply go and do it. Now stop acting like a foolish teenager. It's a beautiful afternoon ... a perfect day for getting to know your new neighborhood. So go on back to your house and don't give me any more excuses."
"Yes, sir," she meekly repeated, but he had already returned to his own office.
The ravishing blonde reluctantly stacked up the half-dozen papers still on her desk and unhappily wondered if she really dared go back to her house that afternoon. Margret knew she would have to start living in her new house again sooner or later, but for the past two nights, she had been sneaking into her own home like a burglar, creeping in long after dark and not daring to turn on the lights for fear that Peter would spot them and return to tempt her once again beyond all resistance.
Even though she had explained to the boy in great detail with torturous attention to his fragile adolescent feelings, why they could not continue to be lovers, Margret had sensed his unwillingness to accept her decision. And, in fact, the next evening she had returned from work well after eleven o'clock at night and found her newspaper wedged tightly into her front mail slot, as though Peter had tried her doorbell before leaving the paper at the empty house. Then, yesterday, she had been relieved to discover her copy of the Sacramento Evening News tossed carelessly, almost angrily she suspected, under some of the shrubbery that surrounded her front porch. Margret's heart ached at the thought that she might have injured the innocent youngster's feelings, but she recognized that it was a necessary part of breaking off the unnatural relationship that had so quickly mushroomed out of control. If she were going to be completely honest, the young divorcee knew she would have to admit that she had incited the teenager until it was too late, but now she knew she had to somehow avoid him for awhile if she really wanted to get over the perverted desires she had felt for him.
"Aren't you out of here yet?"
Margret started up to see the elderly dentist striding out of his inner office, his black bag in his hand. She hurriedly searched her brain for some valid reason to stay in the quiet, empty office for the rest of the afternoon, then gave it up as she recognized the old man's determined expression. He was not going to be dissuaded from sending her home. With a barely muffled sigh, the blonde rose from her chair, stopping only to retrieve her purse from a file drawer before she walked head down through the doorway he held open for her.
"Margret, wait a minute," he called just as she was about to start down the stairway of the old building. "Child, is there anything you want to talk about?"
"N ... no, it's nothing," she mumbled, shaking her head to dry the hot tears of shame that had suddenly risen to her eyes. "I'm just a little nervous, I guess."
"Even I can see that it's a little more than that," he grumbled good-naturedly, "but if you don't want to alk about it, that's your business. Just let me give you a little piece of advice. You don't escape anything by running away from it. If you don't conquer it, it'll catch up with you someday when you least expect it. So, it might be better to face it now, than wait and let it catch you unawares...."
"Uh, thank you," Margret said awkwardly, afraid to reveal her problem by saying anything more. "I ... guess I'd better go home now."
"Good girl," he said approvingly as he passed her and headed down the stairway. "I knew you weren't a quitter."
A quitter? Margret stared after the bent form of the old doctor as he moved quickly down the stars and she wished she could ask him to stay and talk to her for a while longer. His words made sense to her, but then he didn't know the true reason for her fear of going home. Nevertheless, maybe he was right. Maybe she should go and face this thing today, while she still understood that she had to conquer it. If someday, Peter came to her door and she felt the same things she had been feeling all week, she might be surprised and give in, before she remembered all the heartache she had been through because of her unnatural liason with the boy.
Yes, she was sure the doctor was right. The two days she had stayed away from the neighborhood, just going home after dark to sleep, had given her a chance to view things from a perspective. After eight years of sexual deprivation, anyone might go a little crazy for a day or two ... and Peter just happened to be the closest male at the time. It was just a wild regretful experience that probably comes into everyone's life at least once. Well, now she had had her fling and she would forget it. After all, it hadn't been a complete loss. She had learned that an occasional session of abandoned lovemaking might be good for her ... if she chose the right man next time!
But, whether or not she found another, older lover, she would still have to live at Cedar Ct. and there was no day like today to start!
* * *
Margret couldn't help but feel a certain sense of triumph as the afternoon progressed, after she came home. Accepting little Polly's invitation to a "tea party" in the tot's yard next door, the beautiful divorcee had managed to put her own problems aside for a while and simply enjoy the innocent pastimes of drinking root beer from tiny china cups and exchanging bantering formalities with the precocious little red-headed girl.
After an hour of playing with her young neighbor, Margret began to feel more relaxed than she had since she had first moved to the suburbs a week before. She began to suspect that the old doctor had been even more perceptive than she had realized when he had commented that it was always difficult getting used to big changes in your life. The lovely blonde felt even more self-confident after she saw Peter pedalling by her home on a bicycle, his face obviously lighting up when he saw her old mustang parked in the carport. Though the sight of the teenager had rattled her to the point that she had almost dropped a teacup, she quickly realized that it was not sexual excitement she felt, but nervousness about seeing the boy again.
To Margret, there was a world of difference between the violent, unnatural attraction she had felt toward the handsome youngster a few days ago and the milk anxiety she was now experiencing. The realization that she was well on the road toward being her old self again gave her the courage to say good-bye to Polly and return to her own home, to face whatever might happen that afternoon when Peter came to deliver the evening paper.
Margret imagined that the youngster might want to talk with her again, that he might not really believe that their brief affair was ended. It was understandable, and she knew that she owed the fifteen year old boy much after she had so brazenly seduced him in her home. Somehow, she would have to make him understand that it was unhealthy for the both of them to indulge their senses in a way that was condemned so thoroughly by the society in which they live. He was an intelligent boy and she had no doubt that he would eventually comprehend the danger that was involved in their meetings.
Once inside her little home, Margret poured herself a modest glass of chilled white wine, to fortify herself in case Peter did want to discuss her decision, and settled down with the last night's Sacramento Evening News. It was the first time she had ever actually read the paper and she idly wondered if the quality would be worth all the trouble she had been through to have it delivered to her home. She had barely scanned the headlines when she heard a light knocking at the back door in the kitchen.
The divorcee's throat tightened as she realized that it must be Peter, finished with his deliveries, coming by in hopes that she had changed her mind. At least he had paid enough attention to her lecture the other day to knock on the back door so no one would suspect anything, she thought ruefully, but apparently, he hadn't understood the basic issue, that there was no longer any reason for him to stop at her home every afternoon. Well, she would simply have to explain it all to him again, and this time, she proudly realized there would be no argument. Margret knew for certain that she was once again in complete control of her body and emotions.
She drained away the remains of her wine and strode into the kitchen, leaving the glass in the sink before she went to the kitchen door. For a brief second, she considered not answering until the boy went home, but that seemed too cruel. No, she had started this mess and she would end it once and for all this afternoon. Arranging her face into a cool, but friendly smile, she unlatched the wooden door, and pulled it open. Her smile faded as she saw a strange blond boy standing on her back porch, a copy of the Sacramento Evening News in his outstretched hand.
"Hiya, sweetie, here's your paper," he greeted her with a malicious chuckle. "Peter said that if I brought yours over, you'd give me a little of the good stuff you been givin' him."
"Wh ... what are you talking about?" she blurted, frightened and astonished by this unexpected development. "I'll thank you to take your paper and get off my property!"
"Aw hey, that's not fair," a deep voice suddenly drawled slowly from the tall bushes beside the porch. Margret gasped, taking a step backwards as she recognized Peter's friend Jeff stepping out of the shrubbery. "Ya' can't give it all to Peter. We want some, too!"
"Yeah!" a chorus of young male voices answered as a half-dozen more youths began to emerge from their hiding places in her back yard. The first twinges of dread began to purl in Margret's stomach as she stared at the boys who were filing up onto the porch to stand beside the leader, all smiling and nodding but undressing her with their eyes. Her heart sank even further as she suddenly recognized the group. They were the same boys who had lewdly bated her, making all sort of sickening suggestions, when she had come home from work earlier that week, the same night she had first seen Peter delivering the papers.
"Listen, I don't know what you're talking about and I have no intention of waiting to find out," she shakily said. "Now, please get out of my yard." She slammed the door shut and heard it thud against someone's tennis shoe shoved in the doorway.
"Now, why are you being so unfriendly?" the blond asked mockingly, pushing the door open again. "You weren't nasty to old Peter."
"If you don't leave me alone, I'll call the police," Margret threatened angrily as she saw the teenagers begin to troop into her kitchen. "Do you hear me? I say get away from me."
"Now, now, sweetie, calm down," the boy who was obviously the leader of the group said, throwing his arm around her shoulder to lead her toward the front of her home. "If you don't be nice to us, we might scream for help and tell everybody that you were tryin' to molest us, just like you did with Peter. Wouldn't Peter's mom love to hear about that?"
"Oh, no," she moaned softly as she finally realized that she was being blackmailed by this group of youngsters. How did they find out? It broke her heart to think that Peter might have told them, but now that it was happening, it didn't really make any difference. The point was that they did know and now she would be made to pay for her secret affair with the teenaged boy. "What ... What do you mean be nice to you?" she finally asked dully as she stood surrounded by the leering youngster in the center of her living room.
"Well, old Jeff here thinks he wants some candy, but we can probably convince him to have what we're all goin' to have," he informed her with a lewd gleam in his eye.
"You're crazy," she gasped incredulously as she realized exactly what he and the others intended to do to her. Breaking away from his arm, she headed for the front door, then abruptly halted as she saw him unbuckling his trousers with a strange smile on his freckled face, "What are you doing?"
"Come on, guys, make yourselves at home," the blond instructed his friends, deliberately ignoring Margret's question. "That way, if she calls anybody in here, she'll have to explain why all of us kids are runnin' around with no clothes on. All I know is that she invited us in for some candy, then wouldn't let us have any until she saw our peckers. Right?"
"Yeah, Bret, that's right," one of the younger members of the group chimed in. With that, all of them followed their leader's example, grinning and giggling excitedly as they tore off every last piece of their clothing.
The sight was too much for Margret's shattered nerves and she collapsed into a chair, gazing around in stunned horror as one after another of the boy's naked young bodies became exposed to her view. Her attempted escape had been a miserable failure and she knew there was little she could do now without risking the righteous wrath of all the parents in the neighborhood.
The young divorcee was almost tempted to laugh at the bitter irony of her situation ... she had come to Cedar Ct. to avoid the grizzled old men who had always stared so hungrily at her from the darkened corners of shabby apartment buildings and now, here she was in her own suburban apartment buildings and now, here she was in her own suburban home, trapped by a handful of leering youngsters. And she had no doubt that this group would not be satisfied just to look.
As if to confirm her unspoken fears, one of the boys suddenly reached out to pinch cruelly at one of Margret's breasts under her summer dress, and the frightened woman heard snickers of undisguised delight ripple through the group. Her dread advanced to near-paralyzing terror as she stared from one to the other of the youthful faces, their features contorted into obscene masks of lust. She wondered if it would do her any good to try to reason with Bret, the leader, then realized that it would probably only make her situation worse. She remembered their sadistic teasing of her earlier this week and the great glee the blond seemed to derive from her embarrassment. No, fighting would only make matters worse and she wanted to end this as soon as she could.
"Hey, Bret, when are we gonna get our candy?" a whining voice suddenly came from the other side of the living room. Margret looked up to see that Jeff, the older feeble-minded boy, was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, still dressed, his handsome face in a childish pout.
"Aw, Jeff, ya' gotta take your clothes off to get it," Bret groaned in exasperation amidst the chuckles from the other boys. "This is a special kind of candy ... like my big brother Wally told us about, remember?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess so," the hulking dimwit said uncertainly. "Did I ever have any before?"
"Nah, none of you guys ever had any but me," the blond proudly informed him. "But Peter sure liked it ... and I liked it, too, that time Wally took me to the drive-in with him and we picked up some girls. So, come on, kid, hurry and get your clothes off. Andy, help him with his buttons, will you? We gotta get this show on the road!"
"I can do it myself!" Jeff indignantly assured the youngster who quickly stepped up to work at the fastenings of his shirt. "See?" With that he proceeded to painstakingly free each button of his checked sports shirt while the other boys milled around him in ill-concealed impatience.
Margret swallowed and tried to look away as the older boy stripped off his shirt, his hands working next at the buttons on his trouser fly. Being surrounded by the other naked leering boys was humiliating enough, but the idea that this poor feeble-minded youth was taking part in her debasement was almost more than she could bear. Suddenly, the divorcee heard a soft gasp from one of the boys, then another and another, and her eyes involuntarily lifted to see what was causing the small sensation in her living room.
"Oh, my God, no, it can't be," she weakly whispered. Her eyes widened with shock as she stared at Jeff's unclothed body and Margret shivered slightly at the unbelievable sight before her. She barely noticed most of the boy's youthful, heavily muscled body, its powerful swelling lines and deeply tanned surfaces. What had captured her gaze was the breathtaking sight of the long, heavy thickness of the huge young cock that hung limply between his thighs. His testicles were larger than anything she could have imagined in her wildest dreams and sagged down almost as far as the thickly tapering tip of Jeff's huge uncircumcized penis. With conscious self-control, she forced herself to gaze down at the floor once again. This had to be a prank, she tried to reassure herself. They would simply torment her with this childish prank for a few moments longer, then leave. Surely, they couldn't think....
"Well, well, looks like old Jeff got some candy for the lady, too," Bret chortled in delight, breaking the stunned silence that hung over the room like a menacing storm cloud. "What's 'a matter, honey," he gleefully addressed the cringing divorcee, "don't you want any of Jeff's big fat candy?"
"Whadya mean? Where's my candy?" the hulking youth demanded, his interest sparking at the mention of his favorite treat. "C'mon, Bret, where is it?"
"You gonna share, like you said?" the blond inquired teasingly, then turned to the others as Jeff nodded eagerly. "Okay, guys, let's get her clothes off. Our buddy here wants his candy."
"Oh, no, please!" Margret begged piteously as young hands grasped her shoulders and hoisted her out of the chair to her feet. "I can't. I just can't let you do this to me!"
A wave of sniggers and chortles filled the room for an answer while she stared incredulously at the leering, excited faces of the boys, standing around her with legs spread, each obscenely stroking his individual lust-provoked member.
"Wow, I've been jerking off for months just thinking about all the stuff you and Wally told us about," someone exclaimed. "Can we do all that stuff to her?"
"Bret gets to fuck her first!" another announced.
"Yeah, well, I want to stick my cock in her mouth," she heard another chime in. "Wow, just think, she'll really suck my prick!"
"Do you think I could do it in her asshole, like Wally said," a high wistful voice piped up. "That might be nice...."
"Don't you think you'd better get her clothes off first?" Bret interrupted with a self-important grin. "Then we'll see. If we can't do it all today, we can always come back tomorrow."
Margret tried to speak but couldn't. Her words knotted in her throat and she could barely catch her breath. A numbing sense, of helplessness had overtaken as she listened to the vile foulness spewing from the lips of the youngsters around her. She gazed into the faces of the teenaged boys, her tear-wet eyes pleading for mercy, but they were too busy stripping her, their hands tentatively exploring her lush curves, to pay any attention to her misery. There was nothing she could do now, without risking discovery by the people in the neighborhood. She was physically outnumbered by the boys and their cruel blackmail had placed her at their mercy. The beautiful divorcee stood passively as young fingers moved more and more demandingly over the rounded whiteness of her buttocks and the heaving mounds of her breasts, twisting and kneading the flaccid flesh with unquenchable fascination.
"Okay, that's enough," Bret suddenly warned the other. "I'm gonna fuck her now and you guys can watch."
Margret trembled with dread as the blond youth grasped her arm and pulled her toward the couch, flinging her forward so that she stumbled face-down on the cushions. She moaned softly, in a half-daze of horror and humiliation, as her body collapsed unresistingly on the couch and the eager eyes of the boys feasted on the sight of her voluptuous flesh curving out at the buttocks and shoulders from her tiny narrow waist. For a moment, she had an urge to turn her head back and look at them in defiance, but it was pointless, she knew. These youngsters, barely older than the children playing in the street, had somehow managed to back her into a corner and she would be rewarded by nothing but further humiliation if she tried to resist them. If only she had never moved to lovely Cedar Ct., she thought, wearily, if only she could have learned to put aside her foolish pride and accept the lewd offers from the middle-aged men she had dated in the city. It might have been difficult at first, but anything would have been better than this....
She felt somebody's hands coursing down over the raised ridges of her spine and a tremor passed through her. Around the couch, she could hear young voices whispering excitedly and she dully wondered how many times she would have to endure this same ordeal, just to preserve the guilty secret of her two afternoons of unpardonable weakness in the arms of an innocent fifteen year old paperboy.
"Hey, divorcee, look what we got for you," Bret's jeering voice cut into her thoughts. Before she could move, Margret felt a hand tangling roughly in her honey-colored hair to pull her head a few inches off the cushions. Her eyes opened automatically and she involuntarily cringed back as she saw several erect penises of varying lengths and sizes jabbing the air in front of her face like a phalanx of primitive spears ready for the savage attack she knew was about the begin.
"You know what we're going to do with 'em?" the blond taunted her. "We're gonna shove 'em in your pussy! We're gonna fuck you, that's what! How do you like that?"
"Oh, no," she gasped softly. An instinctive shudder of disgust passed through her body at the teenager's use of the lewd words. Where had they ever learned such language, she wondered vaguely, and then the hand wound tighter in her hair, causing her to cry out with the sudden pain.
"C'mon, sweetie," the yough prodded her, more harshly this time as his position of leadership with the group was being threatened by her reluctance to obey him. "Tell us all how much you want us to fuck you. We want to hear you beg us for it!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Margret trembled in revulsion at the very idea of using such language and she remained mute before his lewd demand. This she knew would be the final surrender to these young monsters and, if nothing else, she could at least retain that one tiny measure of self-respect deep within her soul. She just couldn't give them the pleasure of hearing her bed, too. That was asking too much!
"Gee, Wally says they all beg," a voice inquired in a whisper. "How come she doesn't want to, Bret?"
"Damned if I know," Bret said disgustedly, releasing his grip on her hair so that her face fell back down into the couch cushions. "But if she don't start asking for it right now, we're gonna give the neighbors a little show. Tom, go over by the window with Ken and when I tell you, draw the curtain and stand there until somebody sees you.
"Oh, no!" Margret almost shrieked, staring up in terror. "Don't do that! Oh, please, don't!"
"Then, beg," the blonde repeated with greater arrogance.
"Oh, no, I can't, I just can't!" she moaned.
"Okay, Tom, pull 'em open!" Bret cried out, turning his head so that Margret couldn't see the concealed wink he gave the boy by the window.
"Oh, God," she sobbed, her resistance shattered by the helplessness of her position. "Do it to me, do it to me."
"Not like that, say it right," he demanded cruelly.
"Oh, fuck me!" she hissed from between tightly clenched teeth. "Go on, fuck me! Fuck me, all of you! Fuck me!"
As she heard the group of youngsters whoop in triumph, Margret knew her humiliation and degradation were complete. Now that she had said the lewd and obscene words that she had never dared even think before, she doubted she would ever have been able to face herself again. For just once in her life she had allowed herself to lose control over all the things she knew were right and now she wished she were dead. She was a whore now, nothing better than a filthy slut off the street who pandered to teenaged boys.
"Good!" Bret crowed exultantly. "Now I'm gonna stuff my cock up your belly until you can taste it!"
The other boys laughed nervously from excitement, thinking of what was about to happen. It had been different listening to Bret and Wally telling them about what it was like to fuck a woman, then lying in their bed at night pretending their hands were the same thing as a soft wet cunt. Now, they had a real woman stretched out before them completely naked to their gazes and they were going to watch her get fucked by Bret and then, they were all going to fuck her themselves, even dumb old Jeff! Around the couch a dozen eyes glowed in anticipation that had been building like a storm since Bret first told them of his plan a few days ago. Even Jeff was caught up in the electrical tension, and he watched from a chair in the other side of the living room.
"You guys hold her down until I get it in," Bret commanded nervously. His voice trembled from the salacious thought of what he was about to do to this beautiful older woman and his long hard cock ached like it had never ached before in all his life. He dropped onto the couch and lay across the full length of her smooth white back, his face pressed into the soft cushion of her blonde hair.
Margret cringed away from the attack and tried to wriggle away from the boy, but young unseen hands forced her deeper into the softness of the sofa. Her shoulders were pressed down into the cushions and held in a vise-like grip that she could not shake free of. Bret's knees behind her were slowly and relentlessly forcing her kness apart with an urgency that bruised the tender back-flesh of her thighs.
Her face reddening slightly with the effort, she strained to clench her thighs tighter together, but it was a hopeless struggle. The breath surged painfully from her lungs as her resistance suddenly broke and the youth dropped between her legs as they fell limply apart. A deep moan of despair fell from Margret's lips as she felt the hardness of the boy's stiff penis pressing sharply against the soft flesh of her inrer thighs. He moved forward along the couch, insmuating the full length of it along the narrow tightly clenched crevice of her buttocks as she squirmed and twisted frantically beneath him, inciting his lust even more with her struggles.
"Kneel up," he suddenly gasped from behind her.
Instead, Margret stiffened her body, pressing her hips down tightly into the couch. Bitter tears of anger and fear were beginning "to spill into the fabric of the cushions and she tried not to move, hoping that perhaps he would give, up the awful rape of her body. But with an angry grunt, the boy slapped the flat of his palm down across her bare buttocks, causing her to scream and jerk her body. But with an angry grunt, the boy slapped the flat of his palm down across her bare buttocks, causing her to scream and jerk her body. Hands on her now relaxed hips pulled them quickly up off the cushions into a kneeling position while the other boys continued to press her face and shoulders down on the couch. By the time she regained control of her muscles, her buttocks were waving high off the couch behind, and she made a momentary and fruitless attempt to flatten them again. Bret's hand raised and slapped her again and again until she relaxed and ceased her resistance.
She knew she would have to give in finally anyway. The boys had her in a position where she had no place to turn. There was nothing left now but the horrible humiliating submission to their obscene desires. Her body was no more than an unwilling toy for these near-children to be used as they wanted in their inhuman quest for sexual knowledge....a search that would only be ended when each of them had exploded their hot young liquid lust deep up inside her soft white body. It was useless for her to struggle or even care anymore.
Crouched between her creamy widely spread thighs, Bret gazed down at the full white moons of Margret's buttocks stretched up in defenseless offering. The boy's face glowed with pride as the others gathered closer to the couch, their eyes bulging with hot uncontrollable desire. None of them had ever seen anything like this before and each of the teenagers felt his balls tingle and ache with desire. Hard pricks stabbed up toward the ceiling, throbbing and lurching with the need to be thrust into the narrow slit of soft pink flesh that was waving in the air before them. But still Bret waited. He remembered how the beautiful blonde had cold-shouldered him earlier this week and he wanted to get the most enjoyment he could from the subjugation of her kneeling body before he decided to shoot his hot load of white cum into her warm waiting little cunt.
The blonde teenager held himself back, purposely torturing himself now in anticipation of the moment when he would thrust forward and slide his tingling cock deep between the full white gloves of the proud, perfectly molded ass that swayed gently before his eyes. It galled him, more than he even cared to admit to himself, that Peter, the quiet bookworm of the group, the one who was always ruining their fun with his worrying and his courtesy, should have gotten into this gorgeous woman's pants before he, Bret, the knowledgeable one. He wanted to feel this bitch squirming under him, to want him more than she ever wanted old dumb Peter. That would be the ultimate triumph ... to take Peter's older girl friend away from him, to have her for himself whenever he wanted her. The thought raced through his loins like a jolt of burning electricity.
Yeah, he was going to make this beautiful divorcee woman squirm and like having his cock shoved in her ... whether she wanted to or not.
That would show the guys that he knew what he was talking about!
Teasing himself a moment longer, Bret ground his hard white cock around in the narrow crevice of her ass, pressing the soft quivering cheeks of flesh around it to enclose it like the fitting of a warm kidskin glove. Still not quite certain of what he wanted to do, he leaned forward and planted a long trail of warm wet kisses along the raised ridges of Margret's spine, gloating silently as he felt her tremble beneath him. The beautiful divorcee groaned softly and the muscles of her body tensed nervously as she felt the moist contact along her loins and back. Then, he haunched back on his heels and slid his soft pink tongue slowly and tauntingly down the line in the center of her lower back until he reached the tightly clenched valley of her buttocks propped up high off the couch. Once again, the frightened blonde tried to struggle free, but her shoulders were held tightly in place against the cushions by the two wide-eyed teenaged boys at the other end of the sofa.
Smiling knowledgeably at the youngsters around him, Bret dropped his hands to the full rounded spheres of Marrgret's buttocks, placing his thumbs on either side of the soft resilient globes and pressing gently outward. Bret's big brother Wally had told him many times that there was a special way to get a broad exactly where you wanted her and now was the perfect time to test Wally's foolproof method.
Margret tensed her buttocks together, fighting the outward pressure the lewdly grinning was exerting with his fingers but bit by bit, the straining muscles of her inner thighs began to give way to the relentless pull. His face was poised directly in front of the thin red folds of hair-framed flesh that covered her vagina and his gleaming eyes watched hawk-like as the soft flanges gradually parted. He could see a slight dew of moisture forming and pearling on the tender insides of her thighs as, with the fatigue of her rapidly tiring muscles, Margret involuntarily let her backside slip wider and wider apart.
The boy's abrupt change from humiliating brutality to tenderly caressing her private parts began to catch Margret off guard, in spite of her angry resistance. She had geared her mind to the fighting of pain and cruelty, not softness and pleasure, and she was not prepared for the boy's new tactics. They were beginning to have a strange, unexpected effect on her captive body.
Bret slowly moved his face forward until his lips were a scant few inches from the soft golden pubic hair that covered the sensitive lips of her vagina, and his nostrils flared as the sweet odor of her sex drifted incitingly toward him. He swallowed deeply as his thumbs pressured outward and her delicate inner cuntal flesh suddenly flowered open to his hungry gaze. It was satiny smooth and a slight moisture from her secretions was visible, glistening wetly on the soft inner flesh of her thighs.
Winking at the others in a signal to watch, Bret took a deep breath and expelled it softly into the open crevice. Almost as if in reply, Margret quivered and a faint groan escaped her open lips. She tried to move a little, but the pressure of the other boys' hands was still too strong against her shoulders. Her struggles were becoming less impassioned now and the voluptuous young divorcee's horrified fear was gradually being overcome by her body's instinctive reaction to the torturing touch of Bret's hands and the warmth of his breath against the secret parts of her helplessly pinioned body.
The lovely blonde woman fought to stifle a moan rising in her throat and she struggled to ignore the tiny wisps of forbidden pleasure that were beginning to ripple deep down in her belly. Nevertheless, her muscles that had been so keyed against the humiliating torture of a few minutes ago now began to relax into a soft receptiveness. Now something else had replaced the terror and the harsh blows that had been inflicted on her helpless form, a light gentle sensation of warmth soothing over her defenseless genitals and she suddenly found it hard to remember that she was being blackmailed into a vicious sex party by a group of teenage hoodlums. A long, low sigh escaped her lips as she felt another rush of the warm moist air float over the crevice between the open moons of her soft rounded buttocks.
The tension in the room was almost electric and each of the teenagers smiled in relief as they heard the soft sound of surrender from the beautiful older woman kneeling on the couch. Even Jeff, slouched disconsolately in his armchair as he waited for the promised candy, leaned forward with interest dawning in his eyes. His dull brain slogged through its inventory of half-remembered, half-understood ideas, trying to recall exactly what Wally had been telling them about. Watching Bret crouched over the curvaceous woman's bent form had triggered a recollection but he couldn't quite capture the thought. His attempt at reasoning was hampered by the insistance of his penis Jhat was now throbbing angrily as it stood out above the egg-sized testicles in his lap and he stared down at the jutting rod of flesh for a moment, almost remembering that it was all connected somehow.
On the other side of the living room, Bret pressed his face forward, pushing his open mouth hard against the wetness of Margret's vaginal slit. The divorcee squirmed fearfully for a moment and he tightened his hands on her buttocks so that she couldn't slip away. Then, with one quick flick of his thick wet tongue, he slid it between the warm flesh folds of her cunt.
Her gasp of pleased surprise resounded through the room, causing the youngsters to crowd closer for a better view of the ravishment of the woman's soft pink pussy by the boy's tongue. She had jerked forward with the first hot teasing contact in an involuntary spasm of delight but quickly screwed her buttocks back hard against his freckled face. Her vaginal passage began to expand and contract, clenching tightly around the long smooth length of his tongue sunk deep inside her. Her breath exploded down into the cushions in small quick gasps that muffled themselves into tiny mewling grunts as she twisted her face harder and harder into the couch. He curled and flicked the searing point of his tongue up inside her helplessly quivering pussy while he sucked wildly at the buttocks that swayed almost out of control around his face.
"Golly, Bret, golly," one of the boys gasped in awe at the unbelievable sight of the beautiful older woman's sudden and complete surrender to the flushed young face bobbing madly over her cunt from behind. Several of the boys had already lost the battle to restrain themselves and were frantically stroking their rampant young cocks in an effort to relieve the passions that were building up in their bodies well past the danger point. The two youngsters at the other end of the sofa released Margret's shoulders and moved around to watch more closely. There was no longer any need to hold her down.
Bret basked in the admiration of his friends as he worked hungrily over the wide-spread tightness of the helplessly kneeling divorcee's cunt, his tongue thrusting and withdrawing, plunging into her again and again making a tiny wet sluicing noise with each forceful lunge. Her little cries were lengthening out to one long continuous moan as his tongue suddenly located her hard, throbbing clitoris and licked and sucked savagely at the tiny pulsating bud. His face dove farther into the damp Warm crevice and his mouth sucked and teased at it gleefully, teasing it with the sharp tips of his teeth, while she writhed and churned her buttocks above him in a lewd dance of unleashed desire.
"Ooohhhhhh, yes, oooooohhhhhh, yessssss," she chanted deliriously, her body and mind completely lost in the whirlpools of sensation that arose from the delicious sucking of her loins. Bret grinned with lewd and triumphant satisfaction as he felt the powerful muscles of her buttocks hollowing and contracting around the sides of his cheeks in an exhibition of wild untamed animal lust that was unlike anything that Wally had ever told him about. Her cunt flowered open wider and wider, her moistness increasing with each further second his sucking mouth worked at her wide-stretched split. It ran in narrow, lewd trickles down the sides of the boy's freckled cheeks pressed tightly against the softness of her ass warmly enclosing his face, and down the inside of her smoothly working loins into the hollowing flesh of her soft inner thighs.
Bret could sense that their gorgeous new neighbor was almost ready to cum. The wild abandoned tempo of her grinding loins told him it was time to drive his cock into the softness of her hot little belly so that he could feel the warm throbbing walls of her cunt clenching around until they both exploded. He wanted to hear her cries of ecstasy and fill her with his cum until she would never forget this afternoon as long as she lived. He wanted to stretch her so wide that she would never even be able to feel Peter's puny little cock again.
The blonde boy felt his hard boyish prick tingling with anticipation while he worked at her loins with his relentlessly sucking mouth. Then, he could stand it no longer. He had to fuck her now and quick! He pulled his face away from the warm wet folds of her quivering vagina and slithered up to his knees, working his hips into the now wet and glistening opening of her buttocks from behind. Around him, the waiting group of youngsters ogled the scene with renewed interest.
"Wow, look! He's gonna fuck her from behind now!" a dark-haired boy hissed excitedly. The boy who did not appear to be older than eleven or twelve years old reached out to run his trembling fingers lightly over Margret's upturned buttocks, gaping and blinking as though he thought he might be in a dream.
"Jesus, yeah," breathed another two or three years older. His eyes wide with wonder, the dark-haired boy slipped his smooth young fingers between her bent body and the cushions of the couch and began to knead and squeeze the creamy smooth flesh of her full swelling breasts. The boy teased and pinched at the tiny bud-like nipples until they became hard as pebbles and Margret involuntarily moaned at the thrilling sensation that fluttered hotly down to her writhing loins below.
Acorss the room, Jeff, usually dull eyes were beginning to sparkle with excitement. Wally's words still eluded him but the sight of Bret's long pulsing cock poised against the deep split in the beautiful blonde's buttocks was beginning to spark a long-buried instinctive knowledge in the handsome half-wit's weak brain, the long-awaited explanation of why his cock got so hard and itchy sometimes and why he sometimes couldn't go to sleep at night until he had squeezed all the sticky juice out of it. A slight frown wrinkling his brow, Jeff rose from his chair and slowly ambled closer to the dramatic tableau on the couch. His cock was throbbing harder than it ever had before, but a faint hope rising in his mind kept him from trying to make it squirt right now. A vague feeling filled him that he was going to get to see and do something that he had waited in some vague way to do for a long, long time....
The excitedly grinning blond boy was crouched behind her now, his pulsing white cock held tightly between his fingers with the large red blood-filled head aimed at the tight elastic opening of her cunt. His gaze was locked on the gleaming whiteness of her body and he let his eyes feast for the slightest of seconds on the way her soft full ass curved sharply down into the .narrow wasp waist that looked as though it might snap at the slightest pressure. On either side of his kneeling legs, the blond boy could see her long ivory thighs tapering down sharply to her small well-formed knees and then blossoming out again to the fullness of her firm shapely calves. He imagined those white calves looked tightly around Peter's back as he hammered his cock into her warmly sucking depths and once again Bret swore to himself that he and the others would do better than anything Peter had done. They would make her beg and scream for more and more cock ... but that would have to be later. Right now, Bret's penis and testicles ached as they had never ached for anything before, and he had to ram it into her now before it was too late ... before he lost control and shot all of his boiling sperm all over the soft white buttocks that were waving submissively before him.
There was just an inch of space between her open, glistening vagina and the smooth rounded tip of his cock now, and Bret pressed her buttocks wider apart so that all the other youngsters could see the moist throbbing slit more clearly. His cock jerked painfully as the tiny brown opening of her defensively puckered anus came into view and the boy remembered that his older brother had said that assholes were the tightest place in the world to fuck, but he abandoned the lewd thought as he saw a gleaming dewdrop of moisture oozing slowly from the swollen, inflamed head of his pulsating prick. He had to fuck her now or it would be too late.
Margret barely remembered what had happened to her to place her in this compromising position, naked and surrounded by a group of lusting, panting youngsters. The only thing she knew for certain was that the hot pointed tongue had ceased its fiery ministrations to the wet crevice between her thighs and just as she had been on the verge of a beautiful climax. Now the tender sensitive flesh that had been so soothingly laved by the blond youth's lips and tongue a few moments before felt hungry and empty, a burning hole back between her open thighs that begged to be filled. There was no excuse for her mindless passion at that moment, surrounded as she was by the leering young boys who had so cruelly tricked and blackmailed her, but she wasn't searching for justifucation any more. It had felt so good and now she was teetering on the edge of a breathtaking orgasm, just waiting to be fulfulled. There was only one thing she wanted now ... a cock, a big stiff prick to fill the aching need inside her and she ground her buttocks back toward the boy behind her, silently praying that he would quickly stuff his long hard shaft of lust-engorged flesh into her naked starving cunt before she lost her mind from frustration.
"Ooooooohhhhhh," she suddenly breathed in gratitude as she felt the boy leader's hands grip her tightly around the waist and pull her body back toward him so that he could slowly slip the rock-hard length of his urgently throbbing cock up into the tight hot walls of her wildly contracting cunt. Margret had never acted so shamelessly wanton in her life, but she didn't even think about it. The boy's tongue had ignited the hot streak in her and now her full rounded body trembled and shook before the welcome assault on her innermost being. She ground her ass back shamelessly now toward him as she felt her thighs and buttocks being swept wider apart by the stone hard penis tunneling up into her hungrily-clasping pussy. His sperm bloated testicles danced teasingly against the hard tingling bud of her erected clitoris and then he jerked his hips back again to ram the entire length of his rampant penis up into her belly once more.
"Wow, look at her go," Bret gasped, his lips bared back over his teeth in a salacious grin. "Geez, look. I'm all the way in and she's lovin' it. Yeah, fuck it, baby, shake that ass," he chanted obscenely.
Kneeling behind her bent and quivering body, the blond teenager began to fuck in and out of her with long, lunging strokes. The stifling hot air in Margret's living room was filled with the wet sucking sounds of the in and out sawing motions as she bucked back against him, burying his hack-hammering cock as deep as it would go in her hot moist passage with each driving stroke. Bret could barely keep himself in control as he felt the beautiful woman's pelvis sliding madly back and forth along the length of his throbbing pulsing prick, the delicate strands of secret female muscles inside her cunt nibbling hungrily at the inflamed head of his cock. Looking down between them, the boy could view how the pink inner lips of her vagina pulled reluctantly away each time his shaft withdrew, then hungrily devoured the long gleaming rod again when he thrust his pelvis back toward her, until her soft golden pubic hair entangled with his own golden shining thatch. The sight of it almost drove him crazy with excitement.
Margret chanted incoherently beneath the panting youth as the warm wet walls of her vagina clasped tightly around the pole of stiff flesh racing in and out of the depths of her heaving belly, the wetness surrounding it and lubricating the strokes. As the teenager ground his pelvis forward into her writhing buttocks, the lovely divorcee strained back at him, arching her back to drive her loins higher and harder against his powerful thrusts. And moaned ceaselessly beneath the pounding of his young body, rotating her smooth curving hips in tight little circles around the pummeling cock as her head thrashed from side to side on the cushions in wild sexual abandon.
Bret swept into her with a growing frantic need and she matched his every moment, straining once again for the peak of sensation that was so near, so very near, Margret could feel him thrusting more violently, the sight of her bucking body inciting him to greater and greater effort. Dimly she heard the excited murmurings of the boys surrounding the couch and she momentarily remembered what had happened this afternoon, but even the horror of her situation could not diminish her mounting passion. She had been forced to do this, she had no choice, she reasoned dizzily, it was not her fault if she enjoyed it.
Suddenly, there was another movement on the cushion under her head and she turned her face to see another of the boys kneeling on the floor beside her. In his hand he held a long thick cock and abruptly she realized that the boy's fingers were fumbling with her lips, trying to open her mouth. The boy held her head sideways with the flat of his palm against her cheek and with his other hand he was trying to force the head of his prick into her mouth.
"Hey, look, she's gonna suck my prick, guys." The high youthful voice seemed to come from far above her head but Margret mumbled a protest and tried to shake her head away but the youngster only gripped her head more tightly until she could not move and pressed the rubbery head harder against her lips. She could only purse her lips and clench her teeth tightly together and try to keep it away, but the boy was not about to be denied. As he shoved harder against her face, it felt as though her lips were being pushed back through the sharpness of her teeth. The determined youngster gasped and struggled against the softness of her mouth, feeling it parting, little bit by little bit, until abruptly with the air of an extra hard lunge from the blond teenager fucking into her from behind, she gasped. The broad thick young cock crushed through her full moist lips and into the wet warm cavern of her mouth. The boy fucked it up mercilessly into her face as though it was a second cunt and Margret gagged for a moment as he brutally rammed the jerking rampant penis half-way down her throat, the full thick length of it disappearing into her pink ovaled mouth until just a tiny bit of the broad shiny base appeared between her widely stretched lips.
Though she had voluntarily taken Peter's boyish young cock into her mouth a few days ago, the beautiful divorcee still fought against the obscene rape of her mouth by a youth she neither knew nor cared for. But it was a useless struggle for the wildly excited boy held her head vise-like between his sweating palms and immediately quickened his riveting thrusts to match those of their teenage leader fucking into her from behind, never quite pulling his jabbing cock, all the way out of her mouth, but always leaving a slight part of the flaring tip beyond her open lips in the hot moist shelter of her cheeks. His balls slapped harshly against her chin, the soft dark fuzz covering them tickling like a feather. She struggled to breath, catching small gasps of air each time the two cock simultaneously withdrew on the outstroke.
"Oh, God," the lovely blonde groaned piteously as the two teenagers buffeted her back and forth between them, using her helpless body as a mindless receptable into which they would pump their burning sperm. Margret forced herself not to think or feel and, in a nearly trance-like state, she watched the length of the long thick cock where it rose from the dark that of the boy's pubic hair and invaded her mouth like the thick trunk of an ancient tree rising from the forest to pierce the clouds.
The disgust she felt at what was happening to her had driven all excitement from her body ever since the unknown boy had shoved his rigid cock into her mouth, but then, suddenly, the very helplessness of her position flickered through her mind. She imagined what she must look like, being fucked between the two naked youngsters at the same time. The strange mental image incited her and she began to feel the fiery feeling rekindling deep in her belly. She began to squeeze her cunt muscles around the hot fleshy pole burrowing into her buttocks and her lips began to nibble tentatively at the thrusting instrument in her mouth. She was abruptly over come with the weirdest feeling of her life. She wanted the boys to use her body, to use it in any lewd, perverted way they desired. After all, she had deserved this for seducing poor young Peter and now she was getting her proper punishment and strangely loveing it. She wanted to feel Bret's cock exploding to fill her belly with the hot sticky fluids and feel the other boy's creamy, fresh young cum pouring down her throat. Drunk veins, Margret sucked hungrily at the cock hammering into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing and bloating with every thrust. Swirling her tongue-tip wildly around the pulsating, blood-filled head, she probed hotly into the tiny opening on the end. She wanted it to erupt in her mouth, to swallow it until her stomaach was as filled as her cunt would be. She wanted to feel the creamy warmth of the youngster's boiling sticky sperm as it shot into her from both ends of her tortured body.
Behind her, the teenage blonde couldn't back much longer. He began to thrust into her harder and faster, battering mercilessly against the quivering cheeks of her upthrust buttocks with his hard-driving loins. His hands clawed frantically at her writhing hips, squeezing the soft flesh cruelly between his clenching fingers. His breath became hoarse and labored and he could not close his mouth. He looked down at the naked slenderly bucking body and bobbing head and the sight of the lovely older woman being skewered from both ends sent chills racing up his spine.
"Holy shit!" someone squeaked increduloualy from among the circle of young spectators gaping at the obscene spectacle. "Look at them go! Boy, Bret sure was right!"
Gazing awestruck from his vantage-point at the back of the couch, Jeff nodded dumbly.
The saliva in Margret's mouth was becoming sticky from the emissions of lubricating fluids that seeped from the end of the prick sunk into the warm depths of her roundly ovaled lips. She could see the boy's slim hips writhing and straining before her face as though he were in the throes of a spastic seizure. The teenager's strong fingers were wound tightly into her shiny golden hair, pulling her mouth back and forth over the entire length of his thrusting pole as though it were a second warm cunt into whiich he was venting his lust. The divorcee felt her own excitement mounting as the boyish penis throbbed and expanded in her mouth, ramming forward down to her tonsils as though trying to collide with the other cock jabbing into her belly from behind.
Then, suddenly, as she felt her body building up to an orgasm like a churning volcano almost ready to erupt, she felt the cock fucking into her seething pussy begin to throb and inflate. Suddenly panicky that he might cum before she was ready, she churned her buttocks wildly against Bret's loins, trying to get every last atom of sensation before it all ended. She felt her thighs and buttocks being flattened by the force of Bret's last crushing thrust as the blonde boy shoved his prick as far as it could go in her belly and began spewing his hot sticky liquid deep up inside her greedily clasping cunt. Margret could feel the boiling sperm flooding hotly into her and filly the depths of her womb as the young boy's balls banged down heavily against the sensitively exposed bud of her clitoris, causing her to jerk convulsively forward. The boy beside her head rammed forward at the same moment, burying his wildly sucking mouth. It, too, erupted, flooding her cheeks with the youthfully sweet tasting liquid. She gagged in an effort to breath and swallowed in great gulps to keep from choking on the thick rush of creamy liquid rushing into her throat, her lips stretched taut as an elastic band around the fleshy shaft. Tiny droplets trickled from the corners of her mouth when the boy finally slipped his no longer virginal rod, now slippery and soft, from her still-sucking mouth and collapsed on the carpet in front of the sofa, his trembling fingers still resting on Margret's cheeks. Thin, gleaming strings of cum hung from her slack lipstick-shiny lips, connecting them to the deflated cock a few inches away.
Still desperately straining for the orgasm she needed so badly, Margret skewered her ass up tightly against the still-spurting cock in her cunt and suddenly every muscle in her body tensed and began to quiver like a string plucked oh a violin. Her climax flooded in great sensual waves of pleasure, flooding out around the cock buried in her cunt, seeping out in warm rivulets to mix with Bret's creamy sperm dribbling hotly down her straining thighs. She was still trembling insanely as the blonde youth's deflating cock slipped wetly from her sperm-drenched pussy, letting gushes of cool air come rushing into the unplugged opening between her upthrust buttocks.
"Well, I guess that shows you guys I knew what I was talking about," Bret panted as he climbed off of the couch with a cocky grin. With mock sorrow, he added, "I guess there's not much left there for you other guys."
But the self-satisfied look faded from his face as Margret suddenly rolled over onto her back on the couch cushions and gazed hungrily at the many still erect cocks that jutted up from the loins of the other youths surrounding the couch. Far from appeasing her, the climax she had just experienced had been but a fraction of the cataclysmic orgasm she had been building toward and now she wanted another cock, or more, as many as it took to grant her the peak of sensation she had fought so hard to achieve.
"What'sa matter with you, bitch?" he snarled as the crest-fallen looks began to fall from the faces of the other youngsters. "Ain't you had enough?"
"Aw, c'mon, gimme a break, guys!" Desperate young vices suddenly filled the room, then silenced just as quickly as the powerful form of Jeff shoved his way to the fore.
"No, I'm first," he said slowly, with unaccustomed emphasis. Then with a smile of satisfaction, he turned to Bret and asked excitedly. "This is my candy, huh, Bret? I figured it out and that's what ya meant all the time."
Bret's eyes scurried around the group, trying to find one youth who still was staring at him with the same awe-struck adulation he had commanded when he had made the beautiful woman cum, but all eyes were hungrily watching Margret as she invitingly squirmed on the couch below them. This wasn't the way he had planned it at all, and he searched his mind for some sort of revenge against the older woman who wasn't satisfied with the great fuck he knew he had given her.
"Huh, Bret? I was right, huh?" Jeff persisted, his eyes shining with pride at his developing powers of perception.
"Aw, for crissake, Jeff, you'll get yours when...." The blonde boy's voice faded out as a malicious smile began to appear on his freckled face. "Yes sir, boy, that's right," he quickly amended himself, patting the bigger boy on the shoulder. "Go to it, kid!"
CHAPTER SIX
Amidst the disappointed groans from the other boys, Margret looked up and her breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked on the giant young cock that reared out from Jeff's sinewed belly. It was like a third muscular arm with a huge pair of fists balled between the boy's powerful thighs. Erected, it was even larger than before and the divorcee couldn't believe it at afirst. Then it jerked before her horrified eyes, and she fearfully cringed back into the cushions of the sofa.
"Boy, that thing'll make some dent in her belly," Bret snickered evilly from somewhere nearby. "He'll break her in for the rest of you guys."
At the sound of the teasing voice, Margret jerked her eyes away from the sight of the gargantual penis and stared around the circle of youthful faces. Her body was still hungrily demanding more excitement, but her mind was rational enough to realize what was about to happen to her defenseless body. She drew her legs tightly together against the danger of the monstrous penis, her terror bubbling uncontrollably out of her.
"Oh, my God, no," Margret whispered weakly. "You can't. My God, he'll tear me down there. Y ... you must be crazy. No normal woman could take that!"
"Ah, don't listen to that stuff, Jeff," Bret assured the other boy who had turned to him with a worried frown, "They always say stuff like that, and act like they don't like it. Remember, she did before I got mine in her, but she sure like it in a little while."
"Yeah, that's right," Bret," Jeff agreed with a relieved smile, then turned back to the couch.
Margret shut her eyes to blot out the sight of the leering young faces closing in around the couch to get a better view of the unbelievable spectacle that was about to take place before them. Following Bret's gleefully whispered commands, two of his greinds grasped each of her ankles and pulled them far apart. The delicate coral slit nestled in the soft golden forest of her pubic hair flowered into full view of the young spectators, while the others strained closer to view of the young spectators, while the others strained closer to view the throbbing genitals of the struggling woman. Curious hands reached out to pinch quickly at the full white globes of her breasts, digging in greedily for a moment, then nervously withdrawing.
The hulking Jeff grinned delightedly at all the excitement he was causing, then quickly clambered between her widely spread thighs. Margret shook her head back and forth in dazed horror, then her face twisted in anguish as the hands holding her ankles raised them up and over her body until the toes of her feet were touching the arm of the couch behind her head. Every muscle in her body felt as though it were being stretched beyond all human endurance. The flat plane of her luscious hair-fringed pussy was offered up to the demented boy in unwilling sacrifice. It was his to plunder at will.
Jeff grinned down at it, his dull eyes glazed and his lips bared back over his teeth in newfound lust. The young brute stroked his immense cock with both hands in greedy preparation for the assault upon the helpless uptilted cunt before him. His great muscular body swayed slightly on his knees like a cobra poised and ready to strike out at its helpless victim and the glistening purplish skin on the head of his cock shone menacingly in the last afternoon sun filtering in through the curtains at the windows. He shuffled forward slowly on his knees, his pelvis and huge bulging prick thrusting out, the great rod of hard flesh bouncing slightly as he moved.
Margret peered up through her wide-held thighs, her eyes wide in awed horror as she watched the muscles bulging dramatically on the young torso advancing toward the defenselessly throbbing hole between her legs, She could not tear her eyes away from the frightening instrument that was only a second away from ripping into her quaking body in a vicious rape.
Suddenly, without further ceremoney, the drooling teenager jerked his hips back and Margret found herself lifting her pelvis upward as though she were under some sort of subconcious command, searching with her still-inflamed pussy for the monstrous pole that was going to tear her belly asunder. The giggling, whispering group around the couch suddenly hushed as the great bulging head found the narrow pulsating opening and hesitated for a moment, tentatively nuzzling the pink ragged edges of flesh. Then, the muscles of the boy's buttocks tightened as he lifted himself high into the air above the gaping woman. The blunt-nosed, flaring head slowly poised itself over the wet, wide-stretched opening of Margret's cunt and then, with a casual flick of his hips, the delightedly grinning youth, forced the chunky blood-filled head into the quivering lips of her hair-framed pussy, brutally stretching the soft fleshy opening almost to the bursting point.
"Aaaaaaggghhh!" she screamed, tossing her head insanely from side to side at the pain of the cruel intrusion.
"Yeah, just like I told ya'. They all do the same thing," Bret hurriedly reassured Jeff as the feeble-minded youth anxiously looked at him for advice. "Just ram it in there. She just doesn't want you to know how good it is."
Nodding somberly, the boy flexed his buttock again and the mammoth head submerged up inside her open cunt another torturous inch. The struggling young divorcee desperately tried to free her legs to kick free of the agonizing impalement, but the eager young teenager held her ankles tight against the padded arm of the couch.
"Uuuuuuuuugggggg! No, Jeff! It's too big! Ooohhh, stop!" she cried again, certain that she was being split apart. The pain was unbearable, coursing through her cruelly stretched body like a thousand tiny sharp puncturing needles.
"Gee whiz, you don't have to yell so much," Jeff gently rebuked her. "Look, don't this feel good?"
With that, the hulking youth levered up on his hands, straightening his arms into the push-up position, and pushed forward again, cramming the relentless monster another excruciating inch into Margret's helplessly stretched vaginal passage.
"Aaaaaaggghhhhhh! Please, no more! No more!"
Margret could feel hot breath coursing over her naked, now helplessly sweating body as the others leaned closer, their faces hovering inches above her straining nudity. Dizzy with the pain of the monstrous impalement, she was only vaguely aware of hands reaching out to clutch and squeeze at her breasts, fingers scurrying over every part of her flesh until it felt as though she were covered with tiny crawling things, all feverishly searching to enter every opening of her body.
"Nooooo! Pleeeeeeaaassseee!" she sobbed, half-hysterical with fear, tears gushing out from under the fluttering lids of her unseeing eyes.
Jeff stared down at her sobbing and struggling protests for a minute as though trying to decide what to do next, then with a resigned shrug of his shoulders, he suddenly pushed forward with a crushing thrust that plowed the monstrous cock deep into her tightly resisting passage, pushing great waves of rippling pink cunt flesh before it.
Margret quaked convulsively as the gigantic penis plunged relentlessly into her belly, crowding her inner organs as it tunneled even deeper. It felt as though it would burst through to her throat if it didn't stop, but still the monstrous organ slammed into her, shattering her consciousness with overwhelming waves of depraved sensuality.
Then, suddenly, it stopped. With an ass-crushing jolt, the boy's pelvis thudded heavily against the widely stretched globes of her buttocks and the immense sperm-bloated testicles thudded heavily into the tiny puckered ring of her anus. The huge shaft of lust-hardened flesh was sunk all the way to the hilt in her tortured pussy, filling every part of her insides.
The weak-brained youth hovered motionless above Margret's prostrate form, waiting for a word, some sign from the woman about how much she really liked it. Below him, the beautiful divorcee lay, still with agony, silently praying to be awakened from this nerve-shattering nightmare.
Parking his bicycle on the sidewalk in front of 9 Cedar Court, Peter paused for a moment to run a comb nervously through his sun-streaked red hair. After furtively checking up and down the street, he reached into the nearly empty burlap pouch that dangled from the handlebars and quickly pulled out a huge, heart-shaped candy box. He had gotten his week's pay today and, after the joy of seeing his "beautiful sweetheart's car in her carport, he hadn't been able to resist spending almost all the money he had earned on the paper route on the gorgeous, red satin-wrapped package of chocolates. If he had taken the time to go home and get his savings, he would have bought her some flowers, too, but he had been in too much of a rush to get his paper route finished, so he could see her before she went out again.
Peter had understood perfectly when Mrs. Griffy and explained to him about the dangers of what they had been doing and that she could get into a lot of trouble if anybody found out. Anybody knew that, and he probably would have thought of it eventually, if she hadn't. He couldn't bear the thought of her getting into trouble. She was the most wonderful woman he had ever known, he thought, and he had also decided that he would happily risk his life for her if need be. But how could he ever show her how much he liked her, if he had to stay away all the time? Even if they didn't make love everyday, they could still be good friends, he had concluded, and, once in a while, if anything happened ... well, it couldn't hurt just once in a while.
Suddenly, realizing that anybody might come along and see him with the monstrous candy box tucked under his arm, and ask for an explanation that might be embarrassing, Peter turned to stride up the walk to her house. He sidetracked a little to see if her car was really still in the carport after the two awful days he had spent waiting for her to be home when he was allowed to go outside his house. It was, and the young boy barely suppressed a laugh of joyous relief as he bounded up the steps. Boy, was she ever going to be surprised when she saw what he had bought her, he gleefully thought to himself as he raised his hand to the doorbell button.
Suddenly, he froze, his finger not more than an inch from the button, as he heard a long, soul-searing wail filtering faintly through the front door. The youngster racked his brain, searching for some logical explanation for the strange sound, but before he could arrive at a conclusion, another heart-rending shriek drifted out to the porch, softened and muffled by the thick wall of the house, but still clearly audible to the frowning boy outside the house.
"No, Jeff! It's too big! Oh, stop!"
It was Mrs. Griffy! Jeff was hurting her somehow! Peter dropped the package and was just about to start pounding on the door when he heard Jeff's deep voice slowly drawling in a tone of elaborate patience, "Gee whiz, you don't have to yell so much. Look, don't this feel good?"
Another piercing scream penetrated the heavy wooden door and Peter struggled to make sense of what he was hearing. The only answer he could find staggered him with its horror.
It sounded as though Jeff was trying to rape Mrs. Griffy, as though he might of suddenly gone crazy. Peter remembered all those dirty stories Bret was always telling Jeff and the other guys, but Jeff had never understood any of them. Maybe he had finally figured it out and decided to do all that stuff to the-beautiful divorcee, despite her anguished protest.
"Please, no more, no more!"
The stricken cry that accompanied this last plea from the lips of his sweetheart, sent Peter hurtling off the porch after first descreetly kicking the candy box into the bushes below. As he sprinted madly down the street, the red-haired youngster recalled some of the vile, degrading acts that Bret had told them all about and he prayed that Jeff's father would be at home this Saturday afternoon. If Jeff really was turned into a sex maniac, Peter didn't know of anyone else who could stop the hulking youth from overpowering the lovely woman, if he hadn't already.
As he raced down the block toward Jeff's home, Peter couldn't help but imagine how grateful the gorgeous divorcee would be after he had rescued her from the lust-maddened halfwit. A warm feeling was beginning to steal over his loins and he had to slow down for a moment while he willed his suddenly swelling cock to lie still in his trousers.
* * *
Margret's pain-contorted face had begun slowly to relax. Her tightly clenched teeth slowly opened in surprised relief as the initial agony of the massive penetration gradually faded. Her torturously stretched vagina was miraculously growing accustomed to the presence of the young boy, Jeff's, gigantic invading spear of flesh.
"Aaaaaahhhhhh," she breathed shakily in incredulous relief. Her eyes fluttered open and she unthinkingly gave a smile of assurance to the child-man whose face peered anxiously down at her. He seemed to be afraid that he had hurt her and, in her relief, she whispered up at him, "Don't worry, Jeff, it's all ri ... uuuuuugggggg!"
Certain that she was finally going to admit how much she liked it, Jeff had flexed the huge head of his prick inside her belly as a reward for telling the truth, but instead of thanking him, Margret groaned, her teeth reclenching. It felt too good to wait any longer and he flexed again, then again, no longer listening as her cries of protest became softer and softer as her throbbing passage became adjusted to the unnatural size of the monstrous cock. Reveling in the glorious feeling of her moist warm flesh stretched around his huge virginal penis, Jeff began to move his hips in a slow revolving motion, grinding the fleshy cudgel tightly into the divorcee's defenseless vagina, stretching the still-cringing walls until the enormous penis fit in the sheath of her cunt like an egg in its shell.
Unbelieving eyes peered lustfully within inches of the enormous buried weapon, amazed that the tight tiny pussy hole they had seen earlier could swallow the whole of the immense sunken male member. Anonymous hands began to stroke lewdly over the full twin moons of Margret's completely skewered buttocks. The beautiful divorcee felt fingers reaching out to quickly pull at the fleshy hair-lined lips that clamped so tightly around the broad base of the embedded prick, while someone's fingertips darted under the dangling balls at her tiny puckered anus, flirting teasingly with the sensitive opening like another flicking tongue. She winced and jerked involuntarily as it paused and then suddenly popped through the tight surrounding nether ring, worming deeply into the tender spongy flesh inside. It dug in relentlessly, expanding the tiny wrinkled aperature until the palm of the impaling hand lay flat against her asscheeks the whole of the finger solidly implanted inside the dry throbbing tunnel.
An angry gasp of protest burst from her lips at this further indecency against her helpless body. Her vaginal passage felt stretched and torn beyond all possible repair, and now the double rape of her loins with some youngster's probing, wiggling finger buried deep in her rectum made her feel all the more degraded and used. She tried not to stir as she felt the discomfort easing with the stillness of her body, but the lust-incited youth ground and twisted his finger more harshly, stretching and expanding her violated anal passage until the young divorcee's thought it would split from the almost unbearable pressure. Her hands were pinned tightly to her sides by her own drawn-up legs and she watched in helpless fury as another arm shot in between her body and Jeff's to cup her naked breast, teasing and pulling at every part of his proud round firmness until she thought she would scream from the painful manipulations.
Kneeling over her jackknifed trembling form, Jeff's powerful body began a painful sawing motion in and out of Margret's wide-stretched pussy, plunging pitilessly from the crest of his withdrawals to slam her beleaguered body down into the couch cushions with every forward thrust. The finger skewering her ass untied with the massive, pistoning cock to form a rhythmic fucking team that wrung groans of pain and gasps of pleasure in cadence to their simultaneous ravishment of her body.
The agonizing torture was now fading rapidly and an odd sensation of tingling pleasure began to flow through Margret's captive body. The unbelievable humiliation and debasement she had experienced that afternoon had once again built up to a strange masochistic excitement that had seized control of her mind and body, making her forget everything but lovely feeling of being fucked half to death by a cock as big around as her arm. Her buttocks began to rotate experimentally with her first attempt at movement since the torturous impalement, and then, feeling no pain, she allowed herself to follow the rhythm of the cock and finger fucking into her, grinding her hips upward with increasing speed to match the movements of the boy above her. Hands still reached from everywhere to help her on to greater heights of passion while lusting youthful faces leered down at her.
"Oh, yes, fuck me....fuck me harder, oh fuck me," she crooned mindlessly, squirming her body lustfully to meet the crawling hands and fingers that groped at her tingling flesh. She knew she was building up toward the greatest orgasm of her life and every single fingertip that touched her bare flesh added more fuel to the flames that were already raging out of control deep within her belly. Her eyes opened and she gazed around her in blurred ecstasy. Cocks were everywhere. The young teenage boys standing naked in the living room of her new home were all stroking themselves over her in time to the magnificent prick drubbing into her writhing body while one youngster's fingers skewered ceaselessly into her hotly clenching rectum like another throbbing penis. She was a prisoner, surrounded by long hard fiery bars of flesh and she had lost her will to be free. She was lost, almost unconscious with delight at the merciless assaults on her cunt and asshole, trapped between their slamming battering strokes like a pinned butterfly.
"Oh, God, don't stop, don't ever stop. Fuck meeeeee," she groaned huskily up at the moronically grinning boy pumping into her. She rotated her ass faster and faster to keep pace with the two pistons of flesh and finger hammering into her loins like an infernal fucking machine. There was nothing else, no shame, no fear, nothing in the world but the pulsing reality of the hard pole of flesh riveting into her hot steaming furrow.
"Jeff! Jeff! Are you in here, son?"
Margret barely heard the worried masculine voice calling from the back of her house. The impassioned divorcee was too involved in her own body, grinding her hips hungrily up against the pelvis of the dimwitted boy above her, pumping madly up and down the length of the huge rigid member hammering into her cunt. She was faintly aware of the finger in her asshole pulling out with a slight popping sound, the other hands lifting reluctantly from her writhing body, but they didn't matter now. Her body was slippery from the sweat caused by the wild untamed gyrations of her ravenous pussy and her head flailed uncontrollably back and forth on the cushions beneath her. Her mouth was wide open in ecstatic abandon as Jeff fucked into her from the tips of his toes, ramming every last inch of his long thick cock thunderingly up into her hole, bring new ecstatic cries from her lips that resounded through the house like the moans of a wounded animal. Her legs were suddenly freed from the hands that held them tightly around the boy's broad back, kicking her heels against his ass to spur him on.
"Oh....oh God....I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" she suddenly squealed with a high-pitched gasp of intense passion and locked her slender ankles in a death-grip behind Jeff's laboring back. Her body arched and she clasped the grunting youth tightly behind the neck, not moving but quivering and jerking around him in a pulsating rhythm that spewed her orgasmic fluid out around his still-hammering cock and down the wide split crevice of her ass, soaking the boy's monstrous balls as they danced madly against her tiny puckered anus.
Though he had been completely fascinated by the wonder of the new sensations rippling through his body, the strangely satisfying reactions of the beautiful woman under him and the joy of finally knowing what to do with his hard cock, to let himself explode and end this glorious experience, Jeff suddenly felt a slow aching pressure building deep within his balls and he gripped the cheeks of the older woman's still-rotating ass and squeezed with crushing strength, trying to make it last longer.
"Is anybody home? Jeff, damnit, I'm coming in there right now!" the deep voice called again.
But neither Jeff nor the beautiful divorcee could hear anything over the sound of their own paassionate moans as he increased the viciousness of his strokes until his pelvis smacked loudly against the ragged pink flanges of her open vagina and his unbelievably swelling prick drove deep down into the far, far, hidden recesses of her pulsating belly.
Then suddenly something snapped inside him. Gasping into the moistness of Margret's mouth, the youngster felt an explosion in his loins and ground down deeper into the soft warm depths of her wildly clenching pussy. With a sobbing grunt that went on and on into her mouth, he exploded inside her, shooting his hot, liquid sperm deep into the velvety depths of a woman's open and receptive womb for the first time in his life.
Too dazed from the force of her climax, Margret barely stirred as she heard an anguished groan from somewhere in the back of the room. It was not until a strange, powerful hand suddenly wrenched Jeff's panting body off the couch, breaking apart their lewd embrace, that Margret's eyes slowly opened. She had been through too much that afternoon to be much more than curious when she saw a strange man in a blue denim workshirt looming over the couch where she lay.
"Get dressed, son, and give me your shirt," the stranger instructed in a firm but calm voice. "Then, get home and stay there. We've got to have a talk."
"Yeah, Dad, okay. Boy, do I have something to tell you about!" the hulking youth beamed at the man who looked almost like his brother, except for the thin streaks of gray hair at the older man's temples. "Gee whiz, it's better than anything! I bet you'd really like it, too!"
Silently nodding as he took the plaid-shirt the boy handed to him, Jeff's father leaned down to drape it over Margret's nakedness, then looked away in embarrassment. The first stirrings of apprehension were beginning to cut through her glow of contentment and the beautiful divorcee roused herself sufficently to sit up and slip the over-sized garment around her still trembling body before she once again collapsed back on the sofa. Vaguely she wondered what had happened to all the other boys who had been there, but she was too weary to think properly and became distracted by Jeff's merry whistling as he slammed out the front door, shirtless and grinning.
"Mrs. Griffy, I'm Ken Holden, Jeff's father," the man began slowly, a trace of weariness in his voice. "I know you have every right to go to the police, but if there is any way I can make amends to you ... he has no mother ... I'd hoped to keep him from this sort of thing for several more years. Now, I'm afraid he'll have to be institutionalized for his own good."
"Oh, Mr. Holden, forgive me," Margret gasped. She sat up straight on the couch, her eyes wide with remorse. "I never thought...."
"No, I know you were raped. It's not your fault," he quietly interrupted her. "Look can I get you a drink or something. Thank God, the youngster came by to tell me. I'm only sorry I got here too late to help you."
"Youngster?" the beautiful divorcee asked in confusion. Nothing the tall man was saying made any sense to her, and she wondered why he had not already called the police for her! Had one of those young monsters summoned Jeff's father as a joke? she wondered. "Who are you talking about?"
"Peter, the Markson's boy. He came running...." Mr. Holden's voice faded out and the handsome man cocked his head to one side as if listening for something.
"Oh, yes, he's my paperboy," she quickly said. "He's been very nice to me and I guess he must have heard me screaming when he put my newspaper on the porch." Margret too had heard the tiny sound and she was now certain that she and Ken Holden were not alone in the house. The boys had probably not had a chance to get dressed and get out of the door before Jeff's father had stormed in, so she kept talking in order to cover up any other sounds they might make. "He's a charming boy, and I'll have to give him something for trying to rescue me. Heaven knows, if you hadn't come when you did, I can't imagine what might have happened next." She paused to take another breath, prepared to keep chattering until the man left the house, and then, suddenly, a high-pitched giggle broke the silence.
"What in hell is going on here?" the tall brawny man exploded and strode purposefully toward the back of the house. A moment later, he returned, leading six shamefaced, shuffling youngsters from Margret's bedroom. She gasped in dismay as she saw that one of the boys, a small dark-haired youth, wore no pants. The divorcee stared disbelievingly at the surprisingly large penis that dangled obscenely from under the boys baggy sweatshirt, then recoiled as she suddenly realized that it was probably the very same cock she had sucked to orgasm that afternoon. Jeff's father watched with narrowed eyes as the youth got down on his knees at Margret's feet and fished his trousers and undershorts out from under the couch. The exporession of mournful apology had faded from the man's face and in its place was a mask of fury so intense that the lovely blonde woman instinctively huddled further back into the corner of the comer of the couch.
"All of you, get out of here," he finally roared as the red-faced youngster zipped up his trouser fly and buckled his belt. "And if I see one of you on the street tonight, every one of your parents is going to hear about what I found in here, every bit of it!"
Nodding and all obviously too frightened to protest, the boys slunk one by one out the front door, with Bret at the end of the line, still faintly swaggering with a cocky smirk tilting his lips. But his arrogance was fairly transparent, and Margret could see that he too was worried, until he looked outside her house. She could see him perk up suddenly as his eyes caught sight of something in the shrubbery beside the porch. The blonde youth bent down and picked something out of the bushes and, then, with a sly grin that said more than a thousand words, he gently laid the ornate, heart-shaped candy box on the floor inside the house and shut the door.
"Is that from another one of your young....admirers?" Ken Holden's voice was cold with rage as he turned to face the beautiful woman again. "It couldn't be young Peter, could it? He ran out the back door crying when he saw you humping under my son like the cheap slut you are!"
"Mr. Holden, Please ... you don't understand," Margret protested weakly, biting her lower lip to keep back her tears. "I. ... I'd be happy to tell you exactly what happened but I'm very upset right now."
"Oh, I could see that, the moment I walked into this room," he sarcastically said. His icy hazel eyes hostilely surveyed her huddled form on the couch and Margret tried to pull Jeff's sport shirt down over her thighs as she remembered the trails of dried sperm that marred the smooth creamy flesh there. In her distress, she forgot to hold the unbuttoned shirt together at the neck and it fell loosely open, revealing one of the full billowing breasts beneath. She hurriedly closed the wayward garment, but not before Ken Holden's eyes had become glued to the sight of the soft heaving mound of velvety flesh.
"Please, Mr. Holden, could we talk about this some other time? I've had an extremely upsetting afternoon and I'd like to be left alone," she said in desperation.
"Tomorrow evening at seven at my house," he quickly agreed. Margret was surprised to notice that his voice had softened again and was almost shaky, but it quickly resumed its angry timbre as he added loudly, "and for God's sake, try to stay away from the children tomorrow. We need a rest ... all of us!"
Amen, the exhausted divorcee thought bitterly as the front door banged loudly shut after the departing man. Too weary to rise, she curled up on the sofa and quickly drifted to sleep, her face childishly peaceful above the huge plaid sport shirt that loosely cloaked her slender body.
* * *
"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Griffy? We haven't really been formally introduced, but Peter uttered your name with such feeling that I would have to be a cold-hearted man to ever forget it. I'm surprised and perhaps a little disappointed that you actually came over tonight. On time, too. You're lucky. I had planned to call the district attorney at five after seven."
Margret blushed and stared miserably at the floor as she heard the acid tone he was taking with her. It had been an exercise of all her courage to keep the appointment with Jeff's father this evening and now she knew it was going to be just as horrible as she had feared. She nervously sat down in one of the Holden's living room chairs and waited for the attack she knew would be forthcoming.
"Why did you come this evening, Mrs. Griffy?" the handsoome man asked coldly. "To find out what I think about your unspeakable behavior with those youngsters?"
"No, that's not it at all," Margret spoke up hurriedly, aware of the man's taking in the lush curves of her body beneath the light summer dress she had chosen. Suddenly, she was afraid that he might be thinking that she wanted to seduce him as well as his son. "I know it was mostly my fault. I really wanted to ask your help and advice, if you could every understand what really happened. You see, I just moved into the neighborhood last week and now...."
"And now you can't fit all the little boys into your schedule, right?" he sarcastically finished for her. "You sound just like my wife. When she ran away with the next door neighbor, she left broken hearts for three blocks around."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Margret gasped, wishing she had never spoken. "Have ... have you heard from her?"
"Sure, they sent me an invitation to their wedding right after the divorce. That was twelve years ago when Jeff was only four years old." The sadness left his voice as he angrily added, "She left me because of him, and now the poor kid's got to go to an institution because of another one just like her."
"Jeff's sixteen? That seems impossible," she couldn't help exclaiming.
"He doesn't have enough brains to figure out the things that put lines on people's faces," Jeff's father coldly explained. "He was just like any other youngster, playing with the kids in the neighborhood. He could have gone on doing it, too, if it hadn't been for you! Damned women, they never do anyone any good!"
"What do you mean?" the lovely blonde inquired, truly puzzled by what he had said. "What happened wasn't right. I was forced to do what I did. But it didn't seem to hurt Jeff in any way."
"Mrs. Griffy, Jeff isn't smart enough to recognize that formalities are sometimes needed in life, but he is a physically healthy young man with normal drives. Up to now, he hasn't known what to do with those drives, but now ... well, I've got to put him away before he rapes somebody on the street, not realizing that he's doing something wrong."
"I'm really sorry," she said sincerely, her heart breaking at the unhappiness she could see on the man's face. "But apparently that blonde boy, Bret, had been telling him things, anyway. Actually, neither Jeff nor I had too much choice in the whole thing. Bret started it all."
"Yeah, Jeff told me about what Bret said to you," Ken Holden nodded grudgingly. "But dammit, what does your husband think about you playing around with young Peter? What made you do a thing like that?"
Margret thought hard for a minute before answering, then decided to tell the truth, "My husband and I have been divorced for eight years, Mr. Holden. I guess Peter kind of reminded me of him and I lost control for a short time. It's all over now."
"For you maybe, but what about Jeff?" he exploded, his green eyes flashing sparks of fury. "You're just like her. Just because you've got a pretty face and a body that stops traffic, you think you can do anything you feel like, ruining anybody's life who gets in your way. I swore I'd marry an ugly woman after she left, but she ruined me for all but the likes of you and I wasn't going to let my son be hurt by another one like that! Now, after all these years, you come along!"
Margret slumped back in the chair, fighting back her tears. If killing herself would have erased what had happened, she would have gladly slit her wrists at that moment. More than anything else in the world, she wanted to run to Jeff's father, to hold him and comfort him, but she knew that the idea was ludicrous. She was the cause of his grief and the handsome, brawny man had every right to hate her with every atom in his body.
"Do you understand?" Ken Holden raged. "I've shared everything with him for sixteen years! He's my son! I'm his best friend ... and he's mine." His fury wearing down a little, the tall, brawny man leaned despairingly against the wall on the other side of the room. "We did everything together. Everything except this one thing ... and now I'm going to have to send him away."
Margret searched her mind for some words of consolation but before she could say anything, the door behind her chair pulled open and both she and Ken Holden turned to see Jeff standing in the doorway.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Hey, who you talkin' to, Dad? I heard you say something to somebody," the rugged-looking youth said slowly, smilingly inquiring at his father Instinctively knowing that Ken Holden did not want Jeff to know of their meeting, she quickly huddled down into the chair.
"Nobody, Go back downstairs and watch television," the older man gruffly commanded. "I'll be down in a minute."
"Okay, Dad," the youth shrugged amiably, but nevertheless stepped into the living room. "I guess I'll get a glass of soda while I'm ... hey, why didn't ya tell me she was here?"
Jeff's usually dull eyes lit up with delight as he noticed Margret in the chair for the first time. She smiled uncertainly at the boy, then looked over to his father for some hint as to what to do next.
"Oh, well, I ... I ... " Ken Holden faltered in embarrassment.
"You wanna do it, too?" Jeff asked happily, moving closer to Margret's chair. "I'll show you how. Bret told me all about it. It's easy and she likes it a lot, too!"
Before anyone could utter a word, the boy had reached out and jerked down the zipper of the lovely blonde's dress and began to tug it up over her head. Margret resisted for a moment, then went limp as she felt the dress begin to tear at 'the shoulders from the youngster's enthusiastic strength. She knew she could be hurt bodily by the innocent young strength if she resisted.
"Jeff, I think...." his father began, then stopped as the dress pulled free of Margret's body. His eyes locked on the gorgeous body that had been the cause of all his sorrow and his face set into an expression that was a strange mixture of anger and wistfulness.
"What difference does one more time make?" the older man said almost to himself, then looked up at his son. "All right, Jeff let's do it. I've done it a few times before, but this time we'll do it together. Okay, son?"
"Wow, yeah," the boy almost shouted with glee. He dropped the dress on the floor and began tearing at his own clothing.
"Mr. Holden, please," Margret weakly protested, trying vainly to hide her voluptuous body from his. gaze with her hands. She had worn nothing under her dress but her bra and panties and now she could feel the man s eyes boring through even that scant covering. "This is insane. You can't mean it."
"There are several mothers in this neighborhood who would not be as understanding with you as I have been, Mrs. Griffy," Jeff's father murmured softly, an unmistakable threat in his tone. "After what you've been doing with these boys, I can't believe you're really embarrassed."
"Aw, don't listen to any of that stuff, Dad," Jeff said cheerfully. "They always talk like that, even though they really want to. She did the same thing last time."
Margret sat there for a long moment, clearing her mind of all thought, then reached behind her back to unclasp the hooks of her bra. She knew better than to let her mind dwell on what was about to occur, or she would never be able to go through with it. It wasn't the boy she minded so much. In fact, she was already aware of a little thrill of excitement in her loins at the thought of enjoying his monstrous young penis again. No, it was the frustrating humiliation of being forced to submit to the young boy's father that filled her with revulsion.
She had fled the city to escape men like him, men who would thoughtlessly use her body for their own satisfaction, then toss her aside like just one more piece of female meat. It was all she could do not to just grab her clothing and run from the house, no matter who would see her. But she knew she couldn't. The neighborhood was filled with loving parents and Ken Holden would undoubtedly tell them all what she had done, if she tried to leave now. Staring unseeingly ahead of her, Margret rose from the chair and slipped her nylon panties down over her shapely legs and dropped them onto the crumpled pile of her dress and bra.
"Gee whiz, she sure is pretty," Jeff breathed looking over to his father as he reached out to run his fingertips lightly over Margret's bare flesh. "How are we gonna do it?"
"You'll see, son," Ken Holden advised him in a strange, flat voice. "You get down on the floor and make her sit on your cock. Then, we'll show her how nice it is to play around with strange little boys."
Excitement was already coursing through Margret's body from the touch of Jeff's fingers and the sight of his huge thick prick rising from his muscular loins. She allowed the boy to pull him down to the floor beside him, then crawled over his body, placing her pubic area directly over his. She straddled him on her hands and knees and felt her vagina begin to tingle anxiously as his hard young prick pressed tight against her flat lower abdomen. A moan escaped her throat as the youth began to squeeze the nipples of her breasts, thrilling her until she forgot the humiliation she had felt a moment before. The only thing she remembered now was how wonderful the boy's monstrous cock had felt yesterday, pummeling inside her widely stretched pussy, and her cunt lips began to throb and swell in joyous anticipation. At last, Jeff reached down between their bodies to seize this thickly veined penis, bending it down and back toward her openly palpitating cunt. The lust-driven boy strained his long rigid shaft against her pelvic bone for a moment, then suddenly forced it all the way back and Margret felt the hugely throbbing head wedge into the open lips of her inflamed pussy.
"Go on, son, get it in there," Ken Holden's deep determined voice came from behind them.
Obediently, Jeff grasped the divorcees waist and pressed her downward, lowering her slowly onto his excitedly pulsing member. Margret gasped breathlessly as she felt the hard, mushroom-shaped head tunnelling deep up into her belly, and then she gave a tiny cry of surprise as she felt the lust-hardened tip collide with her cervix as the full fleshy moons of her buttocks came to rest on the youngster's heavily corded thighs.
"That's right, Mrs. Griffy, you get even more that way," Ken Holden chuckled from behind her. "And you'll have even more in a minute. Jeff, hold her tight. I think she's going to start complaining again."
The tall handsome man threw away the last of his clothing and stared distastefully down at the beautiful woman crouched over his son's loins. She was gorgeous, the rampant state of his own cock would attest to that, but he wanted to punish her for what she had done to him and his son, to punish her for being so much like that other woman in Jeff's life, his mother. He got to his knees on the floor behind Margret and placed his hands on the smooth rounded globes of her behind.
"Oh, God, what are you doing?" Margret cried out in alarm as she felt the man's strong wiry fingers opening her buttocks, drawing the soft fleshy cheeks apart. She hadn't understood what Jeff's father had just said to her, but she tried to wriggle away in alarm when she suddenly felt one of the man's finers touch the tiny, now completely defenseless ring of her anus.
She tried to tense her buttocks together, but the pressure of his thumbs inserted in the moist crevice was too great. They were stretched cruelly away from each other until she could feel cool air rushing in to lave the warm interior between her thighs. "Stop that, Mr. Holden! I can't do that!"
"Move her up and down on your prick, son. Made her feel good," the older man instructed. "When I get this tight little hole stretched a bit, we'll both fuck her at the same time. Now, hold her tight!"
Margret gave a tiny cry of protest, tears coming to her eyes, as she realized what they were going to do to her. That man was planning to make love to her in her tiny virginal back passage! She would never live through this. She could never face anyone again after this ultimate degradation and subjugation. Yesterday had been tame compared to this. What had ever made her think that Jeff's father might have wanted to help her escape from the terrible situation she was in? He was even worse than the others, a devil, a horrible fiend!
Margret tried again to cringe her buttocks away from Ken Holden, but it was useless as Jeff grabbed her hips and began to powerfully lift her body up and down like a limp sack of potatoes, skewering her mercilessly on his huge teenage shaft. His father continued to probe with the tip of his finger for a minute on the outer edges of the small brown elastic circle and then suddenly shoved forward with a sadistic grin on his face, sinking it in with a pop up to the first knuckle. Margret jumped forward from the pain, but kept silent. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting her.
Ken Holden moved the finger around in the tight tiny opening in little rotating circles as the divorcee's voluptuous body was propelled up and down over Jeff's bucking loins. Gradually, the pain lessened and Margret became more aware of the beautiful sensation of the boy's mammoth prick pistoning in and out of her widely stretched vagina. She relaxed a little and began to move her hips voluntarily to meet each powerful thrust of the cock thundering up into her cunt, grazing the sensitive cervix and filling her as she had never been filled before. For a breathless moment, the obscene intrusion in her rectum actually felt good, intensifying all her sensations, just the way it had yesterday afternoon, but then suddenly, she felt the extra pressure of another finger ramming unexpectedly alongside the first. This time, it did hurt and she jerked up away from Jeff in a futile effort to escape the painful entry.
Oh God, no, Margret thought as she saw Jeff reach out to push her back toward his father, they really meant to do this awful thing to her. What had seemed like little more than a cruel joke designed to frighten and humiliate her was suddenly blossiming into a terrifying reality. She tried again to cringe her buttocks away but it was useless. Both males held her solid as the older man wormed his fingers in and out of her, turning and twisting them in the tight narrow hole in preparation for the oncoming assault. The pain began to lessen more and more and gradually the divorcee came to almost enjoy the sensation from the unnatural reaming. Then suddenly the fingers were pulled out of her.
The two fingers seemed to slip out reluctantly, the elastic ring of her anus clinging to them until they popped out with a slight sucking sound. The older man hobbled closer, pushing her lush legs wider with his knees, dropping his head to her buttocks to lick wetly at the crevice between them, moistening the tiny brown hole with his tongue and sending strange delicious shivers coursing over the beautiful woman's back. Jeff had stopped his lewd pumping and Margret knew he, too, was breathlessly waiting to see what was about to happen.
Then she felt the father's hand jerk her hips higher, momentarily freeing her loins from the impalement of Jeff's monstrous cock. He grasped harshly at her soft hips, holding them steady before him as he impressed his long, thick cock in the moist naked split of her drenched pussy, running it up and down the full length, moistening it with her own excited wetness. Then, squeezing it tightly, he guided the pulsing cock forward until it touched the slightly stretched anus and pressed hard against it.
Margret shuddered in fear at the first naked contact. God, it would never fit. It felt at least as big as Jeff's! She could never take that into her rectum without her whole belly ripping in half!
She tried desperately to wriggle away but both father and son held her securely and wickedly between them. She could feel the man's hairy loins behind her and his hard cock searching and probing into her upturned buttocks. Then she felt a direct probing between his thumbs that was soft and rubbery at first and then grew into an unresisting hardness.
"Oh, no please! Aaaaaagggggghhh!" she screamed as she felt the tight resisting nether ring of her anus suddenly giving way before the unyielding pressure of his cock, its head popping inside with a slight stretching jerk. She screamed and babbled incoherent pleas for mercy as the blunt intrusion of the older man's thick shaft vibrated through every fiber of her being, pushing the soft velvety flesh inside of her widely stretched anal passage in great painful waves before it. She groaned with agony as it sank deeper, deeper, deeper ... on and on into her until she felt the coarse hair of his loins smack heavily into the softness of her buttock cheeks. He was completely inside of her rectum, in her tiny virgin asshole, all the way up to the hilt!
Tears of anguish began to well up into her blue eyes and overflowed onto her cheeks as the cock in her back passage jerked teasingly within her. Then, Jeff, who had pulled his cock all the way out of her while his father penetrated her narrow little anus wrapped his young powerful hands around Margret's tiny waist once again and drove her down over his hard, waiting cock. It slithered tightly into the moist open cavern of her pussy and the beautiful blonde moaned deliriously as she realized that she was hopelessly impaled on the two lust hardened cocks of father and son. She could feel the thickness of the one in her rectum begin to rub against the teenager's monstrous organ below, separated only slightly by the thin membrane between her vagina and her back passage. But as she squirmed to escape the inhuman impalement, the divorcee suddenly realized that the pain was becoming weirdly pleasurable and she began to experimentally move backward to meet the jerking thrusts of the boy's father's loins.
There was no further delay. Ken, already excited by the lewd spectacle of this strange, gorgeous woman accepting his son's gigantic cock into her willing cunt, began to fuck furiously into the soft rubbery depths of her rectum, when the youth began thrusting up into her pussy with long hard strokes that made the floor beneath them squeak protestingly. As if be prearranged signal, both men pulled their fiery pricks almost out of her panting body, leaving on the bloated, blood-filled heads within her soft wet pussy and her ravished sphincter, then simultaneously, they drove deep into her body until Margret felt like the two cocks were about to tear into her belly. They began to move in unison, buffeting her body between them like a sack of soft foam-rubber and she uttered a single low whine of surprised pleasure as they smacked into her body with more and more passion.
It was like nothing she had ever dreamed of before, both of the dual passages up between her legs filled to the limit with rock-hard male flesh, father and son slamming into her body with almost superhuman strength. Again and again, the two men, older and young, pounded against her quivering flesh, pistoning into her open orifices. The pain was completely gone and she didn't want it to stop now, not ever!
It didn't matter anymore that one man hated her, that she had ruined the life of the other. It was impossible to remember anything but the beautiful kind of masochistic joy along with the sheer physical bliss she felt from the very helplessness of her position. The lewd, obscene thought that she was being sodomized and fucked in her cunt and asshole by two cocks at the same time filled her with a strange kind of rapture and she slammed her hips backward to meet the upward thrusts of the two pricks, sinking as much of them into her asshole and cunt as she could possibly hold. Her whole body was a quaking mass of lovely smooth flesh and she undulated wantonly between them in wild abandonment. A magnificent, almost volcanic sensation was building, building, higher and higher inside her and she felt that something great was about to happen, something bigger than she had ever known before.
"Ah ... ah....aaaaaaggghhhhhh!" Margret suddenly groaned as the waves of wonderful electric orgasm hit her loins and flooded out through her whole writhing body, making her forget everything in the world but what she was feeling, the glorious sensations that were pounding like stormy surf through her body.
"Jesus, look at her go, Jeff. She's cumming, son," Ken grunted as he rammed 'his prick hard down into her ravished rectum, leaving it there for a moment as he watched her body jerk and buck from the cresting climax. Considering that she'd been divorced for eight years, she certainly could take a lot of hard cock, though he had to admit she was acting like she hadn't been getting enough for a long, long time.
"Gee, Dad, it feels like she's gonna do it again," Jeff grunted as he felt the beautiful brunette's vaginal muscles tighten more around his plunging, engulfed prick.
"Christ ... I ... think ... you're ... right," Ken said with disbelief, measuring his words with a stroke apiece as he once again started pumping into her. He could feel her asshole tighten on him, despite how brutally stretched it was, and sensed another shudder of orgasm tear through her helplessly skewered body. The helpless woman was out of her mind with desire now and throbbed out an orgasm that seemed to go on and on forever until he thought it would never stop in preparation for the next one. Christ, had his own innocent Jeff stumbled upon one of those rare women who just came and came until they passed out from sheer exhaustion? It seemed impossible and yet she quivered and groaned, tightening more and more hungrily around the cocks relentlessly pounding into her wetly stretched passages. Again and again they slammed into her, fucking faster and faster until her tongue hung out loosely between her lips and she gasped desperately for air, her blonde hair spilling and swaying as she worked to get the most sensation from their steadily accelerating pace.
Then, suddenly, Margret's brain reeled anew as she heard a low animal-like groan erupt from deep in the throat of the sweating young boy filling her cunt with his thick cock from below. She peered down between her dancing breasts to watch his monstrous prick begin to throb out its boiling hot liquid deep inside her voraciously sucking pussy. She could see it jerking forward and tunneling its way as deeply in her as it could possibly go to shoot its hot flood of sperm far, far up into her wildly contracting belly. Then she saw the lewd white fluid of his pent-up desires bubbling and overflowing out his tightly sheated penis and down the insides of her widespread legs.
"Oh, Dad, it's cummin!... it's cummin!" Jeff cried up into the air. He jammed up into her crazily a last time, causing her to jump from the pain as the blunt head of his prick collided against her cervix, the collapsed against the floor as his own sperm dripped out of her and down onto his completely drained testicles.
Margret could feel the older man's hot load building up too to the bursting point as his prick thickened and flexed in her desperately contracting rectum, and she clamped even harder on it to speed on his orgasm. Suddenly, she felt the white bubbling river of his cum shoot with a spurting thud deep against the inside walls of her desperately milking rectum as she pitched out of control with her own final orgasm, the excruciating pleasure rippling through every bone and muscle of her body in almost electrical shocks. She could feel the jerking pulsation of his spewing cock as it emptied its deposit of white-hot male juices deep, deep up into her still greedily contracting bowels.
For what seemed like hours, their panting filled the now otherwise silent room, until finally Ken rolled over from between the young divorcee's buttocks, his deflating cock slipping from her flooded asshole with a slight, sucking popping sound. Thin strings of his sticky white cum still spanned the short distance between the end of his penis and her slowly closing anus. Margret felt a quick draft of cool evening air flow over her naked crotch like a soothing balm to her thoroughly used genitals. She rolled off of Jeff's panting body and lay between the sprawled forms of the father and son, her legs still open as the pink loose folds of her vulvae glistened with the sticky white animal fluid that dribbled out from deep in her dilated womb. Thin streams of it trickled out to run down into the soft yielding crevice of her buttocks and mix with that of Ken's oozing wetly from her forever-stretched rectum.
Slowly, the divorcee's sense began to return to her and her happiness quickly faded as she realized that she had been used like a common whore. She bitterly wondered if Ken Holden were going to simply hand her her clothing and shove her out into the street, with the lewd sperm of his cock and his son's still dribbling down her legs. Or maybe he would call the police now, or spend another hour castigating her for her immoratlity. After all she had been through in the past week, Margret couldn't bear the thought of any more attacks on her body or mind. She was just about to reach for her clothing when she heard Jeff lift his head to speak.
"Gee whiz, Dad, how come we never did that before? You liked it too, I could tell."
Margret braced herself for the blistering sarcasm she was certain was about to come from Jeff's father's lips. He would make some excuse, then revile her in front of his son to teach him a lesson. Well, why not? the divorcee shrugged mentally. She had sunk down as far as she could go now, and the boy was probably the only one who didn't realize it.
"Yes, I liked it, son. I'm sorry we never did do it before," Ken Holden finally admitted, his voice surprisingly gentle. "But we waited for the best, I guess. It's too bad that Mrs. Griffy...."
Margret was dumbstruck by the man's words. Unable to stop herself, she opened her eyes to look at him and saw an infinite amount of tenderness in his face. Instinctively, she cringed back as he reached out toward her, but he merely laid his hand on her smooth white stomach and rubbed gently.
"I guess I can understand why you've been having a little trouble ... you've been doing without a man for a long time, haven't you?" he softly inquired. "I'm sorry I was so nasty before. You're a real woman, Mrs. Griffy, but I don't guess there would be any way we could ever do this again. It would be good for both Jeff and Me, but I suppose you'd better leave the neighborhood before word gets around about you and the other boys.
Margret nodded dubly. She, too, had come to the same painful conclusion, but earlier in the day, she had only been sorry to leave her lovely new home. Now, staring at this handsome, gentle man, she suddenly felt another, greater sense of loss. This was the kind of person she had been hoping to meet all these years, and though he had been rough with her, she knew that it was only because she had hurt his son. For a short while this evening, she had felt at home, a part of a real family, but she knew it was over now, and she glumly maade a move as if to rise.
"Whadya mean, leave here?" Jeff indignantly exclaimed, possessively grabbing her shoulder to restrain her. "Why can't she live with us?"
"Oh, Jeff, I have to go," Margret murmured, fighting to restrain the tears of sorrow that were rising in her eyes. "I like you very much and your dad, too. But I don't know how we could ever do this again ... or if you dad would really ever want to." She remembered what Ken Holden had said about having to send the boy to an institution and she barely stifled a sob.
"Oh, Christ, I've been so stupid to spend all these years without a woman," Ken groaned angrily, hitting his head. "If only I could have found you years ago ... but it wouldn't have made any difference. I wouldn't have trusted you and, even now, we're all going to lose each other anyhow."
"Mr. Holden, I have to go back to the city," the beautiful blonde hesitantly began, looking up at him from under her long dark lashes. "But maybe your problem could be solved if you and Jeff came up to visit me there." She blushed faintly at her own boldness and added softly, "I wouldn't mind. We could be friends and ... Jeff ... would learn that I'm the only one he could ... well, you know."
It took a second or two for the misery on Ken Holden's face to give way to an expression of burgeoning hope, but then, he suddenly leaned forward to kiss Margret hearily on the cheek.
"I don't know. It's a long, long shot," he said slowly, shaking his head doubtfully. But then he smiled and added, "But it's worth a try. I'd do anything to keep him and ... I could easily enjoy this method." He looked down at his deflated penis and grinned almost boyishly. "It's been a long time for me, too, you know."
"A long time that's going to end now for all three of us," she said with a smile. "Right this very minute!"
