Mrs. Brown's lovely body held an evil fascination for Jimmy Dunn, who was not yet 15, and thus easily tempted. There was another body in hiding, too-that of Mr. Brown, who was dead but not buried. In any event, what adolescent boy could resist her naked beckonings? And how could Jimmy have known what L.T. Woodward, M.D., meant in his book, Sex Fiend?-"There is a darker side to sex. This mighty force, when thwarted, when damned by inhibitions, restraints, or frustrations, can find an outlet in violence ... In a frighteningly large number of people, the sex impulse does not receive healthy gratification..."
I
So you want to know how it happened that I, a kid, had the fun of fooling around with this Mrs. Brown? Well ... it was this way:
I didn't mean to be snooping or anything like that ... I just happened to be walking through some back yards, tossing my football up and catching it (I caught it most of the time anyway), when I passed this window and saw the woman in the process of taking off her clothes. Being fourteen years old (almost fifteen), I guess you could say I was right in the middle of the wild stage, and by wild stage I mean ... well, you guys will know what I mean, and maybe some of you girls will, too; but, anyhow, I was really knocked for a loop when I saw this woman-she was half undressed by now-standing in front of a mirror looking at her titties-at the reflection of them I mean. Boy, did I get excited! I was so excited I dropped the ball and it went bounding away, but I didn't see where it went and I didn't care much, either. I guess my face got kind of warm and red and stuff, but I knew enough to duck down so the woman wouldn't catch me staring at her through the window. The window, by the way, was up. The month was August, and it was warm, so I guess she knew what she was doing by having the window up-even though I thought she was awful careless about exposing herself the way she was doing.
I waited a moment and then straightened up a little and looked through the window again, being careful not to make any noise. I drew in my breath. She had her dress all the way off now, and all she had left on were black stockings, garters, and panties. The panties were also black and they fitted her body real tight-like. I'd never seen a woman like this before and it really grooved me like, mad. I felt my lips getting drier and drier and no matter how many times I moistened them with my tongue they'd be dry again right away.
I saw her turn and stare straight at me. My heart just about stopped beating because I knew she had caught me. I sucked in more air and held it, watching her as she walked across the room to the window and leaned out.
"Come inside, boy," she said in the softest voice imaginable. "I wish to talk to you. Crawl through the window, please. Hurry up, now."
I gulped and got redder and wanted to run, but I didn't. Those big titties so close to me fascinated me and I wanted to stay near this woman, wanted to do what she asked me to do-crawl through the window and...
"Boy," she said, "aren't you listening to me?"
"Yes, Ma'am," I replied, gulping again.
"Then crawl in and hurry up about it. I can't stand here naked like this forever. Someone might see mc."
I crawled into the room and stood up, but didn't quite look at her. Those titties of hers were so big and round and wonderful-looking they nearly drove me nuts.
"Boy," she said, taking my arm, "what's your name?"
"Jimmy," I gulped.
"Jimmy what?"
"Jimmy Dunn."
She squeezed my arm kind of hard. "You live atuund here, boy?"
I gulped again. "Yes, Ma'am. I live with my grandmother."
"Live with your grandmother, eh? That mean you don't have parents?"
"They were killed when I was a kid. Car accident."
She released my arm, quickly slipped on a robe and almost in the same motion yanked down the shade over the window. Turning about and looking at me with the darkest eyes you ever saw, she spoke very softly. "Why were you spying on me, boy?"
My face was burning more than before, so I glanced down at the carpet, sort of traced a pattern with my shoe, and wished she hadn't asked the question. How could I answer a thing like that? I didn't know why I had wanted to look at her.
"Boy, what did you say your name was?"
I looked up at her briefly. "Jimmy Dunn."
"How old is your grandmother?" she asked, surprising me. Why would she want to know a thing like that?
"I don't know," I mumbled. "She pretty old."
"How old would you say she was, Jimmy?" She had caught me by the arm again and was squeezing it like mad.
"Oh ... maybe sixty or eighty. Something like that, I don't know. She's awful old. Maybe a hundred."
The woman smiled oddly. "I'm Mrs. Brown, Jimmy. I'm glad to meet you."
"Hello ... I mean, glad to know you, Mrs. Brown."
"Do you have a girl, Jimmy?" She was breathing quite hard now and I wondered why. "I mean, do you like girls-are you old enough to ... er ... like girls?"
I glanced at her suspiciously. What did she mean by that? "Sure," I mumbled. "I mean I guess so ... I mean, I like girls. They're okay."
She pulled my head up against her shoulder and I could smell her perfume and stuff. Boy, was it ever great! My mouth got dry all over again. She pressed my head against her body hard now and something began to happen to me down lower.
"How old are you, Jimmy?" she purred in my ear. She was stroking my head and face now and I noticed how soft her hands were. "Almost fifteen."
"Almost fifteen," she murmured. "What a nice age for a boy."
"Yes, Ma'am. I guess so.
"And your parents are dead?" Again she stroked my head and face. "Yes. Ma'am."
"And you live alone with your grandmother ... and she's very old?" "Yes," Ma'am."
"And ... is your grandmother all right? I mean, she isn't ill or anything, is she?"
"She has arthritis, Ma'am-can't go no place, just stays home in her rocking chair."
"Who then takes care of you if she's unable to?"
"Another old lady comes in every day and gets the meals and stuff."
"A friend of your grandmother's?"
"I don't think so. They fight and argue about nearly everything."
"This other woman. Does she take good care of you, Jimmy? I mean do you feel she's concerned about you, really concerned?"
I blinked. "Don't know, Ma'am. Never thought about it. She just cleans the house and goes home. About all I know about her."
"I see." She patted my head this time instead of stroking it. I preferred having her stroke it.
"What's the matter with you, Jimmy?" she asked softly.
"Huh?" I was startled by the question.
"You ... I mean ... down ... you are ... protruding, aren't you, boy?"
This embarrassed me something awful. "What did you say, Ma'am?" I stammered.
She lifted my head from her shoulder and turned me about a little, took my face in her hands, kissed me wetly on the mouth and then, with a little wild cry, she buried my face in between those big titties of her. This just about made me flip and I got a real whoa-hold-it down there-you know what I mean.
"You're a very nice boy, Jimmy," she murmured. "I'm glad you happened to look through my window. Are you good at keeping secrets? I hope you are, because I'm going to tell you one."
"I'm pretty good at it," I managed to say. It was hard to talk because her big titties were shutting off my air.
"I'm going to tell you a secret, but you must promise me never to tell anyone. In fact, you must promise never to mention to anyone that you know me, or have even met me. Will you do that, Jimmy?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Sure. I promise."
"I'm very lonely, Jimmy. There ... does that explain it to you?"
"I was completely mystified by this. "No," I said stupidly. "What do you mean?"
She didn't bother answering this, but instead turned her body back and forth while at the same time holding my face steady with her hands. Her titties rubbed back and forth across my face and I wanted to kiss her there-to bite her, to do something.
"Does that make you ... hot, Jimmy?"
I gulped. "Y-Yes ... Ma'am ... Guess it sure does something to me."
"If you can really keep a secret, Jimmy ... then I should like for you to ... get very hot. Have you ever been ... very hot before ... with a girl, Jimmy?"
"I . . .er ... I-"
"Never mind. I see that embarrasses you. Don't answer. Don't even try to answer. You see, boy, I'm all alone. I'm a widow ... I need someone ... very badly."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Is your ... pecker very hard, Jimmy?" she asked suddenly in my ear, and ever so softly.
"What ... did you say, Ma'am?" I gasped.
She patted my face and rubbed her titties across my face again; her robe having come all the way open, it was better because I could feel the skin of her titties now and not just the softness of them through her robe. "I said, Jimmy ... I mean I asked you a question. The question was, is your pecker hard? "
I gulped again. "Yes, Ma'am, I guess it is, all right."
She stroked my head and heaved a great sigh, and when she did her titties seemed to grow twice as big for a moment. Boy, did it feel good-her titties against my face, I mean. "Would you like to do something with that hard pecker of yours, boy?"
"Such as what?" I gasped like an idiot.
"Well ... such as ... letting me see it, Jimmy boy?"
"You ... er ... want to see my--? "
"Yes, boy, I'd love to see it."
"Want me to pull down my pants?" I asked, a bit of boldness creeping over me for the moment.
"Would you like to pull down your pants for Mrs. Brown?"
I thought that was an awful funny way of putting it, but I just gulped again and tried to say I would, but the word was stuck in my throat.
"Speak up, boy. Don't mumble."
"Didn't say nothing," I managed to mutter.
"I asked you, Jimmy, if you'd like to pull down your pants for me."
"Yes, Ma'am. I guess I would. Only..., "
"Only what, boy?"
"I. . , . er ... don't know, Ma'am. I mean ... er ... I don't know what I'd like to do. I'm-"
"Sure, boy, I know. Mrs. Brown understands boys very well. She has known a lot of ... well, a couple of boys in her time, Jimmy."
"Why do you talk about yourself as if you were somebody else?" I asked, my voice more steady now.
"Oh ... my goodness, was I doing that again? I'm terribly sorry, Jimmy. I promise not to do it again, if I can help it. It's a bad habit of mine. Now let's see ... where were we? Oh, yes. You were about to pull down your pants and show me something."
"You really want me to, Mrs. Brown?" I asked, afraid she was just teasing me.
"Of course I do, Jimmy. I want very much to see what you've got. After all, you've seen what I've got, haven't you, dear?"
I gulped. "Yes, Ma'am. Guess I have. I didn't mean to be spying on you, though. Just happened to be passing by your window."
She stroked my head again. "Quite all right, boy. I understand. Don't apologize. As I said before, I'm glad you saw me through the window."
I was silent for a moment. "Mrs. Brown," I blurted at length, "can I kiss you?"
"Certainly, Jimmy. Where?"
"huh?"
"I asked you where you wanted to kiss me."
"Your ... er ... titty, Ma'am. It's so big and soft and nice. I just want to kiss the end of it."
She lifted my head by placing her hand under my chin as I glanced into her dark eyes. She had the strangest look in them. I glanced away from them, they almost scared me, they looked so intense-so something or other! Almost for the first time now I noticed she had long black hair, that it hung about her tanned shoulders in a very pretty way, that her teeth were white and even-she was half smiling at the moment-that her face was beautiful, that all of her was beautiful, not just her face. I had been so busy looking at and thinking about her titties that I hadn't had time to see any of the rest of her, but, as I say, now I did-and she was really beautiful.
"You're awful pretty, Mrs. Brown," I said unsteadily.
"Thank you, Jimmy. Do you want to kiss my titty now or later?"
I gulped once more. "Right now, Mrs. Brown. I won't bite you or anything like that. You don't have to worry none. I-"
She laughed musically, patted my butt, and talked real soft-like. "Please kiss my titty, Jimmy, please do."
I drew back my face from her front and looked at the big titty directly in front of my eyes. It looked even bigger now because it was so close to my eyes. The nipple was red and round and seemed to quiver a bit as I looked at it, my mouth suddenly very dry again. I wet my lips and kissed the titty and felt the hard little nub of it against my lips. Mrs. Brown pushed my face down hard on her titty.
"Suck it, boy," she ordered me harshly. "Suck my titty, boy."
I took her titty in my mouth and sucked on it and at the same time pressed my hard old whang up against her legs and tried to rub it against her there. She reached down and grabbed me by the butt with both hands-one on each side-and pulled me up against her body with all her strength. I guess she used all of her strength because she was gasping and breathing very hard now and I figured she must be getting tired or something. Of course she wasn't getting tired-it hadn't anything to do with getting tired, as I found out when I was more experienced at this sort of thing, but that's what I thought right then.
"Your pecker's awfully hard, boy," she muttered in my ear, my lips still being around her titty as I continued to suck on it gently. "Don't you want to stick it into something wet and warm, boy?"
I stopped sucking there and then. Her remark had just about snapped my back in two. My spine was tingling like crazy and I guess I had a lot of trouble breathing for a few moments. "I ... sure ... like to hear you talk, Mrs. Brown," I mumbled.
"You like hot talk, boy? That what you mean?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I sure do."
"You sure you can keep a tight mouth, boy?"
"What does that mean, Mrs. Brown?"
"Can you keep your trap shut if I let you play around with my body?"
"I won't ever tell nobody-honest I won't, not ever."
"Sure you won't try bragging about what you've done ... later on ... to the other boys?"
"I won't say nothing to nobody, Ma'am."
She tilted my head back and I stared straight at her instead of shifting my glance elsewhere. "That's better, boy. I like a boy who looks straight at me. You're real sure you won't ever mention to anyone that I ... I ... well, you know what I'm trying to say, boy."
I knew, all right, but I wanted to hear her say it. "Maybe you'd better tell me what you mean, Ma'am," I said craftily. I was a whole lot more at ease around her now, but I didn't know how long this new feeling would last.
She placed her lips to my ear. "Fuck" she whispered.
I gulped again. "What?" I whispered back, wanting to hear her speak the naughty word again.
She placed her lips against my other ear. "Fuck," she said softly.
"That ... what ... you're ... going ... to ... do ... to ... me?" I gasped, hardly believing what I had heard.
"It's what you're going to do to me, boy," she whispered. "Fuck."
"Say it. . . again, Ma'am."
She stuck her tongue in my ear, wetting it, then spoke again. "Fuck, boy! You're going to fuck Mrs. Brown."
I was so excited now that I could hardly breathe at all. "Ma'am," I stammered, "what do you want me to...,do first?"
"Take your pecker out, boy," she said hoarsely, her voice stiff and strange-sounding.
"Take my pecker out?" I repeated after her excitedly. "That what you want me to do first, Ma'am?"
"Don't call me 'Ma'am,' call me Mrs. Brown, boy."
"Mrs. Brown," I said hastily. "You want me to--? "
"I want you to take your pecker out so I can see what you've got, boy."
I was flabbergasted by this, to tell the truth. "You want me to ... just take it ... right out and ... show it to you?"
"Yes. Take your pecker out, boy, and let me see it."
"All right, Mrs. Brown. I feel kind of. . . funny, though."
"You'll get over that, boy." She was breathing even harder than I. For a minute I thought her face was going to explode, the way it looked all funny and everything. "Hurry up, boy," she told me. "Take it out and let Mrs. Brown see it."
I reached down and unzipped my pants and took out my joint. I pressed it up against her leg, but she pulled away and I felt her hand dart downward, between our bodies; and the next thing I knew she was holding my joint in her hand and running her fingers up and down on it and making me feel like two hundred million dollars, or something.
"Over to the bed, boy," she said, and this was the first time I knew we were actually in a bedroom; I had been much too excited to have noticed anything other than her body.
"Okay, Mrs. Brown?" I said tightly. "Want me to pull my pants off, all the way?"
"Just a minute," she said. "You go sit on the bed. I got some doors and windows to close and lock." She left the room quickly and I ran to the bed and yanked off my pants and shorts. I was getting very bold now, probably because I was so darned hot. She came back almost immediately and I saw her yank off her robe and give it a toss. Cupping her titties with both hands, she half lifted them and, swaying her hips about a good deal, she walked, semi-naked across the room toward me-never once taking her eyes from mine. I had never seen such a wild look in anyone's eyes before. She looked like she was ready to eat me up.
"You're ... awful pretty, Mrs. Brown," I stammered, hating myself for stammering.
"Thank you, Jimmy boy," she murmured, her eyes halfclosed, her hips still swaying. "Keep your eyes on me, dear. I'm going to show you something you want to see."
"All right, Mrs. Brown," I said eagerly, my gaze shooting down to her hip region.
"Watch boy. Your first glimpse of it." She inched her black panties down a bit until I could see the black hair. She fastened her eyes on me and inched the panties down a bit more and I saw more black hair. Then she pushed her panties all the way down to her knees and walked, taking very short steps. She stood with her bare stomach just an inch or two from my face. I started to draw back-I wanted to look down at it and not just at her bare stomach, but she placed her hands behind my head and pulled my face down into the hair between her legs.
Her stomach shot out and nearly knocked me backwards on the bed.
"Suck it, boy," she moaned. "Suck it, boy. Suck me there. I need it so..."
The truth was I didn't know what she wanted me to suck. There was nothing sticking out like her titties, but I ran my tongue through the stiff hair and suddenly I received a big surprise.
Something wet and hot began pouring down my chin.
She grabbed my head fiercely. "Suck me off, you little fool. Suck my cunt, damn you!"
I buried my face in all that black fur and began to lap her furiously-like a hungry puppy dog goes after a bowl of warm gravy. She came all over my face, instantly.
She moaned like a crazy woman and the next thing I knew she had pushed me down on my back and was lying on top of me, her fingers wrapped around my stiffened joint, her loins pumping at me like everything.
It was really something-Mrs. Brown's body.
II
I was so excited by all this that I thought I was going to take leave of my senses. My heart was hammering so hard it seemed like it was about to jump outside of me and along with this I began to sweat something terrible.
Mrs. Brown stopped her frantic pumping after a few minutes and lifted her head and stared down into my eyes. "Guess we'd better roll over, boy," she said thickly. "Won't get nowhere this way, with me on top." She wet her lips. "You should be on top, boy."
"Yes, Ma'am!" I gasped. "Whatever you say, Mrs. Brown."
She rolled us over until I was lying above her and between her large thighs. She put her hand between us, took my joint between her thumb and forefinger and began to jack me. Naturally, I couldn't take this without something happening, so I promptly proceeded to spray her body with hot boy juice.
"Hey!" she hollered at me. "Don't waste it that way, boy." Just the same I noticed how pleased she looked when my stuff squirted on her flesh. She began to grin at me and the first thing I knew she had pushed me off her for the moment and was wiping up my juice with her fingers. She then licked her fingers with her lips as if she liked the taste of my stuff pretty good.
"Seeing you do that," I panted, "makes me hot all over again, Ma'am."
She pushed me down on my back and took my thing in her mouth and started to suck it like crazy, her head bobbing up and down, her tongue darting about frantically on the head of it. It felt so good I squirted some more-straight into her mouth. Right away she began to bob her head up and down very fast. I shot some more into her mouth and she licked my piece clean and then flopped over and lay down flat on her back, her eyes tightly closed, her titties heaving up and down fiercely, her chin drooling.
"I swear," she said, "you make me hotter than I've ever been before, boy. What is it about you?"
"I don't know, Ma'am. I guess it's because you make me so awful hot."
A few moments passed while she recovered her breath. I glanced at her big tits and just doing this made me squirt a little. She saw me do this and got frantic again. More spittle drooled down her chin.
"Get on top of me, boy. Stick that piece of yours inside me. I want to feel it, kid." She glanced at me oddly. "You ever do it to a woman before?"
I wanted to lie and say yes, but I thought she'd know I was lying, so I told the truth. "No, Ma'am. I ... er ... had a girl's pants down once, but her kid brother came and..."
"Never mind that. Let's see that pecker of yours, again, boy."
I started to crawl on top of her instead of showing her my pecker when I heard a bell ringing in another room. Mrs. Brown muttered something, gave me a pat on the butt and told me she had to answer the phone, that she'd be right back. "Don't you crawl out that window and go home now, boy. You wait right there on the bed for Mrs. Brown. Mrs. Brown has some more pecker-draining to do." She grinned and, grabbing up her robe, whirled it over her body-guess that's what you could call it-and left the room, closing the door behind her. The bell stopped ringing a moment later, so I figured she had picked up the phone and was talking to the other person.
I lay there on the bed, my prong sticking up real stiff-like, my pants still off and everything, and wondered what was taking her so long, for she was gone a long time, a very long time, or so it seemed to me, probably because I was in such a hot state of mind. Finally, I got to my feet, hunted about for my pants and shorts, and drawing them on and zipping up my pants, went to the door she had disappeared though. I started to turn the knob, but something stopped me. Suppose there was someone else in that other room. How was I to know? Mrs. Brown had told me she was a widow and alone, but how was I to know if that meant all alone. At any rate, I didn't open the door but drew back away from it and walked toward the bed, conscious now that my joint was getting softer by the moment. This didn't bother me much-I knew it would get stiff easily enough once Mrs. Brown came back with that hot body of hers.
I waited and waited for her to come back, but she didn't and I was about to give up and crawl out the window and go home when I heard a sound somewhere in the house. I listened but didn't hear it again. It had sounded like someone coughing and this made me suspicious, but I didn't think Mrs. Brown would have such a low-sounding type of cough. It had sounded as if it had come from a man. A small piece of fear ran though me and I wondered if Mrs. Brown had lied to me about being a widow. What if she really had a husband and he was in another part of the house, maybe sick in bed or something? What if he found out I was in her bedroom? Sweat appeared on my face and I had a bad few minutes before the door was yanked open suddenly and Mrs. Brown swept into the room, almost angrily.
"Something wrong, Ma'am?" I inquired timidly.
She shook her head. "No, not really. Just a neighbor of mine ... he came to the front door and wanted to borrow some cough medicine, the fool. What does he think I've got here-a drugstore?"
I breathed a sigh of relief. That explained the deep cough I had heard. Mrs. Brown didn't have a husband in another room. "I'm sure glad to hear that, Ma'am," I said, hardly realizing what I was saying.
Mrs. Brown was taking off her robe. She stopped in the middle of the act and stared at me oddly. "How's that, boy? What did you say?"
"Nothing," I mumbled. "I mean ... er ... I forgot what I said."
She stared at me again. "Why did you put on your pants, boy?" She seemed displeased at this.
"I don't know, Ma'am. Guess I thought you wasn't coming back."
She frowned but prettily. "When Mrs. Brown says she's got something to do, boy, you can depend on it-she's got something to do. I told you I had some pecker-draining to do, boy. The pecker I was talking about draining is the one between your legs. Now, get those pants off and lie down. I feel like a suck job." She ran her clean, pink tongue over her full lips suggestively.
"You want me to lay down on the bed and take off my pants, Ma'am?" I asked stupidly, to stall for time. This woman took my breath away sometimes the way she spoke to me about things. She had a way of putting words together that made me almost go off all over myself.
"Yes, boy. Off with the pants. Your pecker still stiff, boy?"
"It went soft, but it's getting stiff again, Mrs. Brown."
"Good!" she cried, bobbing her head up and down in approval. "I like a boy with a good stiff one. I can't stand boys or men, either, who don't have..., "
"Mrs. Brown," I broke in, "are you married?" I had no good reason to ask this. She had already told me she was a widow.
She laughed softly. "You worried, boy?"
I glanced away from her probing gaze and felt real awkward. "Guess so. Kind of."
"Thought I was lying to you about being a widow, eh? Well, I wasn't lying, boy. I am a widow. You have nothing to worry about ... except your own mouth."
I stared at her open-mouthedly. "Huh?"
"If you talk about me-about your being here-boy, you ll have plenty to worry about later. You understand that?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I won't tell anybody. Anyway ... nobody would ever believe me ... nobody would."
"Yeah, but you just might try to convince them. Don't, boy. Don't say one word about me to anyone. Not ever."
"I promise, Mrs. Brown."
"Good. Take your pants off, boy. Let's get another look at that long, slim pecker of yours."
I pulled off my pants and shorts and stood there in fron of her, looking at her place, the one between her legs. She had her robe off now and I could see her cunt hair just as she could see my growing joint.
"I swear, boy, you got the prettiest, long, slimest pecker I ever saw."
I grinned and then did a very stupid thing-I changed the subject. "Who was that you talked to on the phone, Mrs. Brown?"
She frowned. "Why do you want to know that, boy?" "Guess I'm curious."
"Just the store where I sometimes buy my groceries. They wanted to check something I'd ordered." She moved closer to me and I guess you could say she had a look of lust in her eyes. I'm pretty sure that's the right word for it-lust. "Don't ask me questions about phone calls when I'm talking about your pecker, boy. Gets me out of the mood. Know what I mean?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry, Ma'am."
"Wish you wouldn't call me that. Can't you say Mrs. Brown?"
"I forgot,"! mumbled.
She waved her hand. "Oh, the hell with it. Doesn't matter. Call me 'Ma'am' if you like. Who cares." She reached down with her hand and took my joint in it and rubbed it up and down gently. My hair as well as my cock, seemed to stand straight up, the rubbing felt so good and wonderful.
"like that, don't you, boy?" she asked, breathing the words heavily. Suddenly and without waiting for me to answer she leaned over and kissed my mouth wetly, very wetly. In fact, she drooled all over my mouth. Funny thing. I liked it better than anything.
"Kiss me again like that," I begged her.
She laughed softly. "Got to you, didn't it, boy? You like Mrs. Brown's kisses, don't you?"
"Yes, Ma'am. They make me ... hot ... and everything."
She kissed my mouth again, all the time working her fingers up and down on my prick. I almost went off in her hand, but somehow I managed not to.
"You're some hot little boy, you know that?" she asked me when she had ceased kissing me.
I didn't like that "little boy" stuff too much. "I'm almost fifteen," I said stoutly. "I'm not a little boy, Ma'am."
She laughed softly again. "Sorry. Didn't mean to offend you. I should say you're not a little boy. You are, in fact, quite some shake of a man."
She pushed me down on the bed, bent her head and began to run her tongue over my stomach, all the while moving her fingers up and down on my joint. I kept getting bigger and bigger and I thought the thing was going to explode at any minute, it was getting so big and hard. It hurt because it was so hard. It really did. Then her tongue darted down my body and stopped on the head of my dink. She held my dink with her hand while her tongue made little circling movements on the head. Suddenly she took all of me into her mouth and then pulled up and away from it. I couldn't help it. I squirted cock juice in her face.
She jerked her head up, held her hand in front of her face and began to giggle like a girl. "Oh ... what ... a character you are, boy," she cried, choking on the words somewhat. "I never saw anything like it, never saw anyone like you, I mean. You've got enough juice in you for ten men. You..." She ceased speaking and began to lick the head of my dingus. Right away, of course, I squirted more into her mouth and she swallowed it down greedily, all the while breathing like a person who has just run a couple of blocks at top speed.
She straightened up after a moment and looked at me. "Some hot boy you are, kid. I like you. I think I'd like to own you, keep you here with me all the time. Would you like that, boy?" She grinned when she spoke the words.
"Yes, Ma'am, if you'd be like this all the time."
She laughed softly again. "Oh, I would be, boy. You could bet on it. I'd be after your pecker every minute. You really got a dandy one and I'm just the woman who can use one like yours."
"You can have it, Mrs. Brown," I said eagerly, "if you'll let me..."
She grinned. "Let you what, boy?"
"Let me stick it in," I blurted.
She laughed again and again that wild look of lust came into her dark eyes. "Oh, you're going to stick it into me, boy. That's another thing you can bet on. I wouldn't let you out of here without getting that thing up inside of me.
"I've never stuck it into a girl," I blurted. "I want to very much, Ma'am."
"How about that," she murmured. "I've got a virgin on my hands. Lovely-wonderful!"
"A virgin is a girl," I said, thinking I knew a few things as well as she did.
Mrs. Brown kissed my mouth wetly and quickly. "Yes, of course, boy ... oh! ... I just love you ... kid ... I could just eat you up, you make me so hot and bothered."
"Can I get on top and ... do it to you, Ma'am?" I panted.
"To be sure, to be sure," she replied strangely, and lay flat on her back, one leg drawn up and partially leaning over on the other one in a real hot kind of pose, I guess you would have called it. "Take your pecker in your hand, boy, and put it into my cunt. I'm waiting to receive it."
I took my pecker, as she was so fond of calling it, between my thumb and forefinger and aimed it at her hair spot and pressed my body at hers, at the same time jerking my loins back and forth frantically, much like a male dog does when he tops a female. Somehow or other, this didn't work for me. My joint didn't get inside of her, though I did feel the hot wetness of her ... hole.
"That's not the way to do it, boy. You're too frantic. Let me do it for you, dear."
There was something about the way she called me "dear" that made me feel funnier than ... anything. I didn't know what it was. Maybe it was because that's the way mothers are supposed to talk to their kids. I wasn't too sure about this because, well, I couldn't remember my own mother-or not very much, anyway.
Mrs. Brown took my cock in her hand and pressed it into her some way or other and the next thing I knew I was on top of her, squarely on top of her; her legs were spread wide, her eyes closed, and I felt my joint slip all the way in and I darned near lost the top of my head from the wild feeling I got from being inside.
"Wow!" I cried. "Wow! this feels ... good." I was already pumping at her cunt like a ... well, like I'd seen male dogs do it to females. Dogs were about the only source of real information I had on this thing I was doing.
Mrs. Brown half giggled but stopped it right away and wrapped her big, long legs about mine, holding onto my ankles somehow or other with her toes hooked around them. This seemed to draw me inside of her even farther, if that were possible, and again I felt the heat of her inner body on an around my prick. I couldn't help it. I squirted quite a bit into her, more than I had up to now at any one time.
"Cool it, boy," she warned me. "Don't blow off just yet. You got a lot of pumping to do first."
"Yes, Ma'am," I gasped, and tried to slow it down. It was a hard thing to do because I didn't want to go slow. I wanted to go as fast as I could, I wanted to empty myself into her cunt, but she kept grabbing my hips and forcing me to go more slowly until I finally did slow it down to the speed that she wanted. AH during this she kept moaning and groaning and muttering strange words I never heard of before (and which I can't remember even now) and stroking my back and patting my butt and biting my chin and cheeks and running her tongue over my mouth and kissing me wetly and ... well, you know ... all that wonderful stuff.
Then the phone began to ring again in the other room.
"Pay no attention to it, boy," she said thickly. "Damn thing would have to ring at a time, like this ... Pay no attention ... keep on fucking Mrs. Brown, boy ... keep on ... Goddamn it!" She gave me a big push and I nearly fell to the floor. She was on her feet then, swearing something terrible, and grabbing up her robe, stormed out of the room, slamming the door after her. Mrs. Brown, I knew, was madder'n hornet. So was I, to tell the truth. The fool of a phone ringing ... right then I hated telephones with a passion that was ... that was ... well, I was mad. I'll just say that. I was real mad.
I lay down on the bed, my prick throbbing like crazy and was half tempted to play with it till she came back, but I didn't. I think I was afraid she might return suddenly and catch me doing it and for some reason I didn't want her to think I ever did that sort of thing because it seemed, right then, to be an awful kiddish thing to do; which, as a matter-of-fact, it is-or so they tell me.
Just as it was the other time, Mrs. Brown didn't return to the bedroom for what seemed like a week. When she did come back and left her robe on, walked to the mirror, glanced at herself, smoothed back her long, black hair and turned about to face me.
"Jimmy," she said, "put your pants on, boy."
I thought I didn't hear her right. "What?"
"Put your pants on. You have to leave."
This put me in a near panic. "No," I said, begging her with my eyes. "No, please don't make me leave now."
"I don't want to, boy, goodness knows; but you must leave and do so quickly. Someone is coming here in a very few minutes."
"Oh..." I suppose my face had fallen a foot.
She came over and patted my butt. "You can come back, dear, as soon as it gets dark outside. Would you like to, boy?"
"Yes," I said quickly. "You want me to?"
She smiled and kissed me hurriedly. "Of course I do, boy. Now, pull on your pants and crawl back out through the window. Don't forget your football. It's on the ground out there somewhere. Wait till it gets dark, and then come to the window and tap on it. If the bedroom is dark, keep tapping till I come and open the window. Understand?" She searched my eyes carefully.
"Yes, Ma'am. I understand." I pulled on my shorts and pants and zipped my pants up. "I'll be here just as soon as it gets dark out."
"Will you have ... er ... any trouble getting away from your grandmother, boy?"
"No, Ma'am. She won't even know I'm gone from the house."
"Good. Remember now what I told you earlier. Don't you speak a word about all of this to any of your friends-not one word of it. Can I trust you, boy?"
"Yes, Ma'am, you sure can. I don't have many friends anyway."
"Good," she said. "Now be off with you. Come back to the window the moment it is good and dark outside. Don't come before that time. Someone might see you the next time ... you know ... crawling through my window. They might call in the police or something."
"I won't let nobody see me, Mrs. Brown-nobody at all."
"Good," she said again. "Now go. Wait a minute. I want to kiss you first." She grabbed my face and kissed my mouth wetly and hugged me and pushed her body up against mine, making me almost go off in my pants this time, wiggled her hips about a bit and then let go of me. "Good-bye for now, boy. Remember, come as soon as it gets dark." She gave me a very wonderful sort of look. "I'll be waiting for your ... pecker ... and you, boy. Both me and my cunt will be waiting for your pecker and you."
I almost went off in my pants again. The way she talked to me was enough to drive a guy right out of his stoker. She sounded as if my dingus was a thing all in itself, like a person or something. She was really a strange woman, but an awfully exciting woman, too. I never really knew that women could be so exciting. I had thought girls were pretty keen at times, but women ... well, I didn't know too much about a female that was full grown, other than my grandmother and old Mrs. Parks, the lady who did Grandma's housework.
I went to the window and pulled aside the shade, yanked up the window and stepped out into the driveway. I saw my football lying there, and felt like giving the fool thing a kick and forgetting about it; but instead of doing that, I picked it up and turned back to the window. I saw Mrs. Brown standing in front of the mirror, just like she had been doing the first time I had laid eyes on her-only this time she wasn't looking at her reflection but at me through the window, the shade having been lifted.
With her finger, she pointed at me, her eyes bright, her lips parted, and then she pointed her finger at her cunt in a poking motion, as if to say, "I'll be waiting for your stiff pecker, boy. Hurry back as soon as it gets dark."
I nodded to her and, not being able to stand looking at her, now that I couldn't get at her and touch her. I turned my head, and the next thing I knew I was running through the adjoining back yards until I had reached my grandma's place.
I slowed down and paused to get my breath, and thought about how nice it had been up inside Mrs. Brown's hot, wet cunt. Right away I had another thought: Would I live long enough for darkness to come? And would I ever again get my John in Mrs. Brown's body?
III
I was there beneath her window when it got dark, and I was as excited as it is possible to be and not pass out from shock. I saw the shade had been pulled down, but it was up a little, about one inch, and I could just barely see beneath it and into the room. Mrs. Brown wasn't in the bedroom at the moment, and I didn't dare try to enter until she told me I could. I remembered she had told me to lap on the pane, so I did this three or four times and waited, but she didn't come. I tapped several more times, hoping she'd hear me soon, because I was getting hot and bothered and didn't know how much longer I could stand not being able to see her and touch her. Mrs. Brown had me in a bag, I guess you could say. I was her property, if she wanted it, and I hoped she did. I remembered what she had said about my living with her. My heart began to race at the thought. Boy, would that ever be great, living with Mrs. Brown and having all that hot nooky close at hand! I grinned and took another peek into tin; bourse, and all the time my rod was dripping in my pants.
Mrs. Brown wasn't in the room yet, so I tapped on the pane again, louder this time. I waited. She didn't come, so I swore to myself and tapped on the pane once more. I was almost beside myself now, wanting to see her, wanting to touch her and having her touch me. It seemed like a year had passed since I had been on the bed with her, my joint all stiff and quivery and ready to explode in any direction at any given moment.
A car drove up in front of the house.
I ducked behind a bush and waited. I saw Mrs. Brown get out of the car, turn and say something to the driver, apparently, and close the car door. She walked up the inwalk (I thought) and onto the porch, though I couldn't see her now. I listened and heard a door being opened and knew that would be her opening the front door, so I ran back to the window and began tapping on the pane loudly. A moment later I saw her enter the bedroom and stare at the window.
"I'm out here, Ma'am," I called to her.
She removed her jacket and placed it over a chair and walked to the window and pulled it up high. "Don't make any noise," she cautioned. "The neighbors may be snooping around." She gestured to me-which I understood meant for me to climb into the room, so I did. She put the window down quickly, pulled the shade all the way down, and gave me a wet kiss me on the cheek.
"I'm so glad you came back, boy. I was afraid something might happen to prevent you."
"No, Ma'am. I wouldn't miss coming back for anything in the world."
She smiled and patted my butt lovingly. "You're some boy-you know that?"
I gulped. "You sure look pretty, Mrs. Brown. What kind of a dress is that you're wearing?"
"Velvet. Hardly an appropriate gown for this time of year, boy. All I had."
I didn't know anything about this appropriate stuff, so I just nodded and touched the dress with my fingers, not really meaning to do anything else.
"Never mind touching the gown, boy. Touch me-touch my flesh." She smiled when she spoke and put her arm around me, too.
"Mrs. Brown," I said breathlessly, "I could hardly stand it, being away from you for so long."
"Yeah," she returned, pulling me up tightly against her ample, firm body, "I know what you mean, boy. I've had the hots ever since you've been gone." She kissed my ear and then whispered words into it. "There's nothing like pecker-poking, is there, boy?"
"No, Ma'am," I gulped. "There sure ain't. Ain't nothing like it."
"Got a stiff pecker now, boy?" she asked, still with her lips to my ear and licking it with her tongue.
"Yes ... Ma'am ... very stiff. . . pecker." I couldn't help wondering again why she called it a pecker.
"Would you like to take my gown off, boy? Would you care to undress Mrs. Brown?"
"I'm afraid I'd tear it or something," I mumbled. "You better do it, Mrs. Brown."
"Oh ... very well, boy." She started to remove the dress.
"Mrs. Brown, may I ask you something?" She turned about and faced me, smiling at me in the nicest way imaginable. "Of course you may, boy. What do you want to know?"
"Who was that in the car, the one that drove you to the door?"
"My attorney, Mr. Swoon. Don't laugh. That's his real name. It's the type of guy he is, too, Jimmy. A swoon type, if you know what I mean."
I didn't know what she meant exactly, so I just nodded, sort of, and looked at her breasts as she pulled the velvet dress over her head. Her titties were covered with a dohickey so I couldn't see them at first, but she took the dohickey off and then, boy, did I ever see them! They seemed to be twice as large as I had remembered them. I wanted to suck them right away, but I guess I was too shy to try it just then. I saw her looking at me. She wet her lips and smiled.
"Got 'em, boy?" she asked. "Have you?"
I figured she meant did I have the hots, so I nodded and got red in the face at the same time.
"Hey, kid, thought you'd got over that red-faced stuff. Why don't you relax?"
"Yes, Ma'am," I muttered.
"Don't mutter that way. Speak up so I can hear you, boy."
I took a deep breath. "Yes, Mrs. Brown," I said, talking quite loudly now. "Is this better?"
"Much better. I hate people who mutter and mumble all the time."
"I didn't know I did it," I said, remembering to speak loud and clear.
She put the velvet dress away in the closet and closed the door, then she turned around to stare at me in that odd way she had. "Hell with it," she said vaguely. "Who cares if you mutter or not?"
I didn't know what to say to that, so I kept quiet.
"Come here, boy," she said, crooking a finger at me. "I want you to fondle my tits."
My heart jumped and I moved across the room hurriedly, stopping in front of her and looking at her large titties as they protruded up and out from her body. Her flesh was tanned and beautiful, being just the right shade of tan to be pretty, not dark brown and burnt-looking the way some people get their skin during the hot weather. I could have stood there all night looking at her smooth, firm, tanned flesh, she was so beautiful.
"Come on, boy," she coaxed, "don't just stand there gaping at me. Touch my titties. Fondle 'em like you loved em.
"I do love them, Mrs. Brown," I told her and I meant what I'd said. "I'm nuts about your titties. They drive me right out of my mind."
"Well, don't take leave of your mind just yet, boy," she said dryly. "I got things for you to do."
I cupped my hands over her titties and she shot her tummy out suggestively. You should have seen the look on her face when I touched her titties and she had shot her tummy out-it was the wildest look I'd ever seen.
"You're awful hot, ain't you, Mrs. Brown?" I asked hopefully.
"I'm burning up, boy. You damned near drive me nuts, do you know that? If anyone drives anyone else nuts, it's you doing it to me, boy. Twist my tits, hurt me, do something wild, boy! Make me cream all over myself!"
I didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to twist those lovely titties. I wanted to suck them, not harm them, but I thought I had better do what she told me to do, so I twisted one of them-but not very hard.
All the clothing Mrs. Brown had on now was her high heeled shoes, her black stockings and panties and the garters that held her stockings up. When I twisted her tit, she pushed her panties down to her knees and began jerking her hips back and forth for all the world like a male dog on top of a female.
It was a funny sight, believe me.
"You like to see me doing this, boy?" she gasped.
"Yes, Ma'am."
She stopped doing it and wrapped her arms about my body."You must remove your clothing, Jimmy-all of your clothing."
"I ... I can't, Ma'am."
"Huh? Why not?" she wanted to know, looking puzzled.
"You got ahold of me, that's why."
Mrs. Brown laughed oddly and let go of me and stepped back. I saw her smooth her long, black hair away from her face and out of her eyes. Her eyes were watching me every minute, I noticed. I pulled off my shoes and socks, then removed my shirt and undershirt and stood there with only my pants on.
"Take those pants off, boy, your shorts, too. I want you all nice and naked so I can . . , "
I hardly heard the rest of her remark. I was too excited and busy removing my pants and shorts. I felt kind of odd when I was naked, but she pushed her panties all the way off, slipped off her shoes and came to me, putting one arm about my waist and. kissing my mouth and face in an awful hot way.
My pecker, as she called it, stood straight out and up and was as stiff as a steel bar. It did something, too. It squirted hot goo all over her tummy. I jumped back, startled at this and afraid she might be mad about it-but not Mrs. Brown. She liked it. I could tell by the expression on her face.
"You're precious," she exclaimed. "Absolutely precious. I swear, I don't know where you get all that juice. Guess you've been storing it up for a couple of years, eh?"
"I'm awful hot, Mrs. Brown," I moaned, hardly hearing what she had said. "I'm just awful hot."
She turned me around suddenly and, placing a hand on each of my shoulders, looked at me fiercely. "You'd better not ever tell anyone you know me, boy. If people knew I was letting you ... enjoy yourself with me...,they'd try to hurt me. Do you understand?"
I swallowed hard. "I think so, Ma'am. You mean because I'm a kid."
"Right," she said. "It's against the law, you see. Stupid law, but that's the way things are. Stupid."
"I promise not ever to tell anyone about us, Mrs. Brown, if you'll just let me come and fuck you. '
"I intend that you shall, boy, and often. For the time being I want you to come to the window only after dark. Do you understand? Don't ever come near the place during daylight hours."
"I promise always to wait till it gets dark, Mrs. Brown. I'll be very careful, too. I don't want you to get into any trouble."
She patted my butt lovingly, sticking her finger into my ass-hole. "That's the way I like to hear my boy talk. Good boy. Mrs. Brown will be very good to you as long as you remain a good boy."
"I'll be good, honest I will, Mrs. Brown, and I'll do anything you tell me to."
She pulled her finger out of my ass and held me out at arm's length and looked into my eyes searchingly. "Anything, boy?" she murmured. "Anything at all?"
"Anything at all, Ma'am. You just name it-I'll do it!"
"Get down on your knees, boy," she said tensely.
"All right, Ma'am." I got down on my knees and looked straight ahead. Her cunt with all that black hair around it was only a few inches from my face.
She thrust her tummy out again and I saw the hair part a little. Underneath the hair I saw the pink and wet-looking place that was so exciting. "Stick you tongue in me, boy. Stick it in and lap."
I nodded, and seizing her buttocks with either hand, pulled her up tightly to my lips and then darted my tongue deeply into the warm, wet crevice, hearing her cry out at the same time.
"That's the way, Jimmy boy ... that's my boy ... lap Mrs. Brown ... off."
I darted my tongue in and out of her cunt for what seemed like a week, but was probably only a few minutes, and the next thing I knew she had shoved me down on my back on the floor and had turned her body around, while I sucked her cunt. Then she began to go down on me, rough-like. Naturally, I couldn't stand this sort of thing for long, so I shuddered like crazy and exploded in her mouth. I was astonished at her reaction then, for she became very angry and, getting up on her knees, hauled off and slapped my face several times.
I sat up and rubbed my face in a kind of shocked state. "What did you do that for?" I asked. "Did I do something wrong:
"You went off in my mouth before I was ready to receive, kid," she said roughly. "Don't ever do that again without somehow telling me." She glared at me. "You understand what I'm saying?"
"I didn't know I was going to blow, Mrs. Brown," I cried defensively. "It just happened before I could ... help it."
She sat down on the floor and rubbed her hair, working her mouth around and apparently trying to get over being mad at me. She didn't say a word for at least two minutes and then, finally, she grinned at me and patted my leg nicely.
"Oh well ... never mind, boy ... things happen sometimes. Get to your feet, will you? Walk across the room. I want to look at you."
I just stared at her.
"Don't you want to walk across the room, Jimmy?"
"I don't mind," I said. "But what for?"
"Just wanted to see your ass wiggle, boy. You don't have to if you don't want to."
I grinned. "Why you want to see my ass wiggle? I always thought it was guys who wanted to see women's asses wiggling."
She waved one hand as if to say, "Oh well, it doesn't matter, boy," and with her other hand pulled her long, black hair over her shoulders so that it hung down and partially covered her titties.
"You're some kid," she said softly. "You really are. I never saw the-likes of you, boy." She patted my leg again. "I'm sorry I lost my temper and slapped you, Jimmy. I really am."
"That's okay, Mrs. Brown. Ain't the first time I've had my face slapped."
She got to her feet, walked to the bed and threw herself down on it, but immediately drew the covering over her body so I couldn't feast my eyes on her. "You're some kid," she muttered, and paused briefly. Then: "When you think you've got another wad to get rid of, let me know. I'd like to take it in my cunt."
"I could do it again right now, Mrs. Brown," I told her quickly.
She lifted her head and stared at me in that dark-eyed, odd way she had. "You mean you can blow again after all that draining you just had?"
"I think so, Ma'am."
She sighed. "There you go with that 'ma'am' stuff again.
Makes me feel like I'm two hundred years old."
I wondered why she had changed the subject. "I'll try not to say it again, Mrs. Brown."
"No matter," she said, sniffing and waving her hand about. "I do a lot of talking and complaining about things that you need pay no attention to, boy. Come over here to the bed. I'll lie on my tummy and you get on top of me and see if you can put it in from the rear. Would you like to try?"
I became real bold then. "You mean you want me to stick it in your cunt from the back?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean, boy. Think you can do it?"
"I can try, Mrs. Brown."
"Then get your pecker up here on the bed and start stabbing at me, boy. I'm as hot as a firecracker."
I ran to the bed and looked down at her body. She was lying across the bed, her toes hooked over the edge of the bed. Her big butt stood out plainly and I wanted to pat it in the worst way-so I did, letting my fingers touch her here and there and all over her lower body at the rear. My dingus was as hard as a rock again just from touching her.
"Lie down on top of me, boy, and stick it in as far as you can."
I lay down on her butt and was surprised to find out how well it fit my front. It seemed as if her butt was built just to fit my front because everything went together so nice and comfortable.
"Put it in, kid," she said, glancing back at me over her shoulder. If you can't reach my cunt, ram it up my ass-hole."
I raised myself up a bit and jabbed at her crevice from the rear, holding my dingus in my hand, and felt the head of it entering her cunt. I lay down gingerly on her, taking care not to let it come out. She moved her butt in a certain way and immediately I felt my prick go deeper into her warm wetness. She had a way of closing herself over it, holding it with the lips of her cunt. At least, I think she did this. At any rate, it felt wonderful and I began to pump her slowly and carefully, not wanting it to slip out.
"That's good, boy-keep that up," she moaned. "Keep pumping it into me slowly and carefully. Don't try to go fast or take long strokes. You'll pull it out if you do."
"Yes, Ma'am," I said.
She said something then that nearly drove me crazy: "You ever have your cock jacked off by a woman's cunt?"
That did it. I blew in her like a madman, and I kept on blowing in her as I pumped frantically. She seemed to open up her cunt and take more and more of me inside of her as I drained into this wonderful woman for the second time in just a few minutes.
It was some time later that we lay side by side on the bed, both of us still naked, with her still fingering my joint, although it was only half hard now and certainly in no shape to do anything more at the moment.
"I still say you're some kid," she muttered. "Even though you go off too soon, I'm going to have to teach you to hold back and to keep the fun going, but that long pecker of yours beats anything I've ever had in me. That's the truth, boy."
I guess she knew what she was doing, talking this way, because all of a sudden I got real hard. She ran her fingers up and down on my dingus and sighed. She didn't say anything right then, but contented herself with feeling it.
"You like me, don't you, Mrs. Brown?" I ventured to say.
"Yes, boy, I like you very much. I'd like to own you. What a shame you have to go home to your grandmother."
"I don't have to go right now, do I?" I asked quickly, fearfully.
She laughed softly. "Of course not. Just a manner of ... speaking, I guess. I ... er ... I mean-oh, the hell with it, kid. I don't know what I mean. All I know is I'm still happy you passed by my window earlier and saw me half naked. That was a real lucky break for both of us."
"Yeah," I said, breathing the word happily. "It sure was.
I've had more fun today than I've ever had before in my life."
She turned to her side, facing me, and wetly kissed my cheek. "You know, I have, too. I've had a remarkably good day. And just as soon as I have you properly trained ... well, you and I are going to have some great sessions together."
"I don't see how it could ever be any hotter than just now," I said.
"Well, you wait and see, boy. It will be. You can bet on it."
I was silent for a moment. "Does that Mr. Swoon ... ever do it to you, Mrs. Brown?" I asked boldly.
She sat up straight on the bed and turned her body so that her great breasts were hanging down almost in my face. She took my face in her hand and playfully turned my head back and forth. "You bad boy," she said, smiling. "You're getting jealous already."
"No, I'm not, Mrs. Brown. Not really. I was.. .just curious."
She laughed nicely. "Mr. Swoon isn't interested in the ladies, Jimmy. Do you understand that? I mean, do you know what I'm saying?"
"Sure. You said Mr. Swoon wasn't interested in ladies. Why isn't he?"
She shrugged. "Who knows about such things? I certainly don't. Mr. Swoon-likes ... no ... don't believe I'd better put it into words. No use in doing that."
"No use in doing what, Mrs. Brown?"
"No use in hurling someone when there's no reason for it."
"Oh ... would you be hurting Mr. Swoon if you said something about him?"
"Yes," she said. "Words can hurt as much as anything else, Jimmy."
I thought about this for a time. Then: "I guess you're right, Mrs. Brown. When you called me a little fool today ... it hurt me something awful, only I didn't know it right away. It wasn't till after I had left here that I felt the hurt."
She kissed me wetly. "If I hurt you in any way, boy, I ought to have my ass kicked. I really mean that, boy." I giggled a bit. "Who would want to do that?" She seemed puzzled. "Do what?"
"Kick your ass," I said. "I never would. All I want to do is poke at it."
She grinned at me again. "Well. . . why don't you, then? Start poking."
What a woman she was. Just hearing her say those words made me go off-all over Mrs. Brown's body.
"Hey, kid," she cried. "If you're going to blow your wad, trying poking it inside of Mrs. Brown, first, huh?"
IV
I guess she was just kidding me because when I started to poke at her, she made me stop, laughed a little, got off the bed and slipped on her robe. She winked at me and left the room but didn't close the door after her. I figured she had gone to the bathroom, but when she returned in a few minutes with two bottles of beer I knew she hadn't.
She looked at me, looked at the beer, then frowned. "I'd better give you Vodka," she said. "Can't let your grandmother smell beer on your breath. She'd want to know where you got it."
I sat up straight on the bed. "What's Vodka? I never heard of it."
She shook her head strangely. "What the hell is going on in this head of mine?" she asked, seemingly of herself-"thinking about giving a fourteen-year-old boy a drink. Good grief, I must be cracking up." She looked over at me and grimaced. "You can't have anything to drink, boy, you're too young."
"Could I have a glass of milk, maybe?" I asked.
After all, I hadn't had any supper, having told my grandma and old Mrs. Parks that I wasn't hungry, which was partly the truth. I hadn't been hungry for food at the time for Mrs. Brown's firm, tanned body.
Her mouth opened wide. "Are you hungry, boy? Didn't you go home for your dinner?"
"I didn't eat anything. Guess I was too excited, Ma'am."
She carried the bottles of beer out of the room and came back with a tall glass of cold milk and a piece of apple pie. "Here, boy, get this into you. It probably isn't enough, and if it isn't, tell me and I'll scrape up something better for you.
"This is fine, Mrs. Brown. I'm not very hungry." I ate the pie and drank the milk fast. "That was good," I told her when the food was gone, "but I'd rather have you."
She took the empty glass from my hand. "Well, listen to the boy talk, will you. He's learning fast." She seemed to be studying me with amusement. "Put your clothes on, Jimmy. I'll be back in a few minutes." She left the room again.
I got dressed, wondering why she wanted to do so. It was a lot more fun being around her without clothing. I couldn't have thought of anything more pleasant than being naked in this bedroom with Mrs. Brown if I had tried. When my clothes were fully on, I looked at myself in her mirror. The brown-haired kid grinned back at me-my reflection, I mean-and I grinned right along with him. I felt pretty good; felt older, smarter, all that stuff.
"Think you look okay, Jimmy?" she asked.
I whirled around and saw her in the doorway. She was leaning one arm against the side of the doorway, her black hair was pulled down around her shoulders prettily, and her bosom was bare, but she was wearing a skirt and stockings.
"I didn't hear you come back," I stammered.
She came all the way into the room. "Have enough to eat, boy?" she asked, looking me up and down oddly.
"Yes, Mrs. Brown." I eyed her titties and she grinned when she saw me doing this.
"That's all for now, dear. I'm afraid you must go."
I fell like the rug had been jerked out from beneath me. "W ... what?" I stammered.
"You must go home now, boy. Mrs. Brown has some callers coming in. I'm sorry."
"Somebody coming here, Ma'am?"
"Yes. Some people. I'd rather have you with me, but. . . well, that's how it is. It's too late to call them and make some excuse for not having them. You see, boy, I had almost forgotten about them."
"I have to leave right now, Mrs. Brown?" I asked incredulously.
"I'm afraid so, boy. But you can come back tomorrow evening after dark, mind you. Don't come here while it's still daylight. Don't hang around the place, either. Understand me?"
I hung my head a bit. "Yes, Ma'am. I sure bale to go home, though."
She put her arm about my shoulders and led me lo the window, "Kiss me, kid," she said.
I kissed her and she grabbed me and kissed me back fiercely. "Listen lo me, boy. Soon as it gets dark tomorrow I want you to bring that long, slim, hard pecker of yours back to me. Understand, boy? Soon as it gets dark."
She kissed me again hurriedly, gave me a slap on the butt, and I knew it was time. I jumped through the window to the ground. Turning about to catch one more glimpse of her, I discovered she had ahead) turned out the bedroom light and there was nothing to see but pitch darkness. I fell as if the whole world had been turned off.
It was after nine o'clock when I sneaked into Grandma's house through the rear door, trying my best not to make any sounds. I didn't want Grandma or Mrs. Parks (if she were still here) to ask me any questions about where I had been and what I had been doing. I knew I could tell lies to Grandma and gel away with it, probably, but I was somewhat afraid she might see something in my manner that would make her suspicious. I definitely didn't want
Grandma to be suspicious of me in any way.
I went up the back stairs to my room.
I could hear Mrs. Parks talking to Grandma in her room, which was down the hall from mine. I undressed, washed my face, and crawled into bed. Not that I was ready for bed at nine o'clock, but I figured if the two of them, Grandma and Mrs. Parks, started questioning me as to where I'd been, I could always say I had been right here in bed, and if I thought it necessary to have more to say I could tell them I had been slightly sick and that's why I had missed dinner.
I heard Mrs. Parks walk past my room and go down the stairs. I sat up in bed and listened. The front door opened and closed with a bang and I knew Mrs. Parks had gone home for the night. I breathed a sigh of relief, not just because she was gone from the house but because her leaving meant that my grandmother wasn't ill tonight.
I thought about Mrs. Brown's firm butt, her big titties, the way she had entertained me and immediately I had a rod-on that was so hard it hurt. I was tempted to pull it out there and then and let it fly into a handkerchief, but I vaguely remember something Mrs. Brown had said about not wasting myself-something like that-so I didn't do it. The thing kept getting harder and harder, so I finally got up and went to the bathroom and tried to take a leak. Nothing happened. I couldn't do it. I had heard about older guys taking cold showers and wondered if I should try one. I decided not to bother with it. For one thing, it would probably arouse Grandma and she'd start in calling out to me and then I'd have to go in and stand there while she asked all sorts of questions. For another reason, I didn't want to lose my rod-on. I like it. I returned to the bedroom and pulled my clothes on hurriedly. I had no definite idea of what I was about to do, but I knew I had to get out of the house and at least walk somewhere, anywhere. Just lying there in bed ... and thinking about Mrs. Brown's naked body ... well, that was a good way to go nuts.
I left my room quietly and sneaked down the rear stairs and out of doors, making sure I had my rear door key before locking up the house. I didn't want to leave
Grandma alone in the house-this really worried me, but I figured she wouldn't know I wasn't there, so she wouldn't be frightened. Besides, I didn't plan on going anywhere. Not really. I'd just walk about a bit until my rod was gone and then I'd return to the house and go to bed quietly.
I walked around the house and out to the street and headed in the direction of Mrs. Brown's place. She lived in the next block, so it didn't take long for me to get there. I had crossed over the street so she couldn't see me in case she happened to glance out a window, and when I was directly across from her house I stood there looking at the place, my hard-on throbbing like crazy.
I glanced up and down the street carefully to make sure no one was watching me. I didn't want any cop to come along and start asking me questions. Every time a car would turn a corner nearby and head in my direction I would start walking until the car had passed. You never knew if one of these cars might not be a police cruiser. As it turned out, of the four or five cars that went by none of them were cruisers, but of course a guy can't afford to take chances. Cops take a dim view of kids being out on the street after ten o'clock-which time it must be by now, I knew.
The lights were on in Mrs. Brown's house, but that didn't tell me anything. What I mean is, it didn't tell me that she had people in the place or anything like that. I hit myself in the head with the flat of my hand then. What was wrong with me? Of course there were no people in her house-there wasn't a car parked anywhere near her place and not in her drive, either.
I ran across the street and up the driveway to her bedroom window. The light was on in the room and I bent down to peer under the shade. She wasn't in the room, but her robe lay on the bed-and so did a pair of white panties and a bra. My heart skipped a few beats when I saw her enter the room. She was entirely naked. I was about to tap on the window when I saw her do a strange thing. She dropped down across the bed, her legs spread apart and stuck her finger up her cunt. She jerked it in and out a few times and then sighed and removed it. I was through the window in a flash.
"I came back," I said.
She screamed and jumped off the bed, but when she saw it was me she stopped screaming, sat down on the bed and passed her fingers over her eyes. I saw she was breathing very hard.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Brown. I didn't mean to scare you."
She swore softly. "You scared the hell out of me, kid. Don't ever do a thing like that again. Say ... what are you doing here? Thought I sent you home an hour ago."
"I was home in bed and about to go half crazy, Mrs. Brown. I had to come back and at least see you once more tonight. Honest, I didn't mean for you to see me. I didn't mean to jump into the room, but when I saw you ... sticking your finger up your ... cunt ... I knew you were hot, same as me and I. . . "
"Never mind, boy," she interrupted. "Never mind all the explanations. You're here and to tell you the truth I'm glad of it. I got the hots again, something terrible. I've been thinking about that pecker of yours ever since I sent you home. I became so hot I called those people I told you were coming and lied to them, said I was ill and not able to entertain them tonight. I. . . "
"Gee, I'm glad you're hot like me, Ma'm. I'm so hot I'm about ready to die, I guess."
"Hey ... that's no way to talk. You mean you're ready to live, don't you, boy?"
"Yes, Ma'am, I'm ready ... to live ... ready to ... ready to fuck."
She laughed at my use of the word. "Now that's the way to talk, boy. Spit it out when you feel like it. Nothing like a good four-letter word to make a person come alive." Even as she said the words I noticed she was grabbing for her robe and pulling it about her body, shutting off my view of her flesh.
"Gee, how come you did that?" I asked, crestfallen. "It's better for the moment to have the robe on, boy," she said flatly, and without explaining why.
My hard-on was throbbing something terrible. "Mrs.
Brown," I said, taking my courage in hand, "I came through that window just now because I have to fuck you. Please take off the robe."
She laughed. "Don't get your shirt in a knot, boy. We'll get around to what we both want but first..."
"Yeah ... what?" I asked dubiously.
"First, I need a drink, kid. Too bad you can't join me. Can't let you have one. As I said before, it's too dangerous. You stay right there. I'll be right back soon as I've had a shot of something."
"All right," I said, my spirits sinking. "I ain't going nowhere anyway."
She left the room and didn't return for all of five minutes. I was fit to be tied by the time she did come back. I couldn't understand shy she had to go away somewhere and have a drink if she was as hot as she said she was. To me, being hot called for just one thing: getting 'em off quick. Why bother with drinking something?
She came to me and put her arm about my body and drew me up against her firm flesh, her robe corning open and exposing her bush to me-what I could see of her, that is. After all, she was holding me real tight and...
"Didn't you hear me, boy?" she asked.
"Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Brown. Guess I didn't. What did you say:
"I asked you a question, boy."
"Oh ... what was it?"
"I asked you if you'd mind if I sucked your pecker."
My heart threatened to jump out of my body. "Gee, when you talk like that, Mrs. Brown, you just about drive me crazy."
She dropped to her knees, pulled open my pants, took out my prick and began to run her tongue over the head of it, I nearly blew off in her mouth, but this time managed to hold back. I didn't want to make her angry again, as I had the other time. I would try very hard to wait until I thought she was ready to receive and then I would squirt mv juice. I was learning what to do and it was about time I did.
"Squeeze my arms or shoulders or something," she said, removing her mouth from me for the moment, "when you're ready to release. But hold it as long as you can, boy. Let me enjoy the sucking as much as you enjoy being sucked."
"Oh ... yes ... Mrs. Brown," I breathed. "I'll. . . do ... whatever ... you say..."
She ran her tongue over the head of it again and I thought for sure that this time I would go straight out of my mind from the wild feeling it gave me. Chills ran up and down my back each time her tongue caressed the head of it. The head is awfully sensitive anyhow and when a female starts running her tongue over it. . . well, you just about flip, that's all.
I just about flipped.
And then suddenly she stopped the whole thing, got to her feet and looked at me in that wild, strange manner. "I'll be damned," she muttered. "I'll be damned."
"What's wrong, Mrs. Brown?" I asked, frightened by the look on her face.
"I'll be damned," she muttered again. "Think there must have been something in that whiskey." She made a strange sound in her throat and stumbled to the bed and fell across it. She lay very still and I ran over to her and turned her over on her back and shook her as hard as I could.
"Mrs. Brown!" I yelled. "What's the matter with you? Wake up ... wake up, Mrs. Brown."
She managed to open her eyes, to half raise herself and look at me. "Somebody ... put. . . sleeping pills ... in bottle ... Don't worry kid. ... been done before ... I'll sleep ... it. . . off ... I ... " Her head dropped and a few moments later she began to snore softly.
I wasn't scared now. The way she had looked at me along with what she said caused me to have more courage. She had said the thing had happened before, so she must know something ... she must know she would be all right, later on.
I wished I had someone to ask about such a thing as a sleeping pill in a whiskey bottle, but of course there was no one.
"Mrs. Brown!" I cried, trying to awaken her and more. "Can't you wake up and talk to me?" I knew she couldn't. She was sleeping soundly now, her robe open and exposing her body to me in every way possible. I glanced at her eyes, then her hair, her mouth, her lips being slightly parted now, then her shoulders, her titties and on down to her cunt with all the black hair around it. I wet my lips. "Since you can't suck me no more, Mrs. Brown, then maybe I'd better suck you. Do you mind, Mrs. Brown?" But of course she didn't answer and I didn't know whether to feel glad or depressed for a few moments, but taking a second glance at her pretty nude body convinced me that I could...
That I could do what?
"That I can do anything I want with you and you won't ever know." The words came out softly from my lips, but they sounded loud to me just the same. A bead of sweat appeared on my nose and I wiped it away. "Mrs. Brown?" I called, my lips close to her ear. "Can you hear me?"
She grunted and moved her hand a little but didn't awaken. I spoke her name several more times, but she didn't move or give any other sign that she could hear. I examined her face, listened to her breathing and figured she was okay. I decided to fool around with her.
I left my clothes on-there was no need to remove them; she couldn't see me now-and crawled on the bed beside her. She was quite a heavy woman, though not fat by any means, and I had some trouble in straightening her around so that her head was on the pillow. I then separated her legs a bit and pulled her robe all the way open so I could see her entire body in one glance. I smoothed her black hair back and away from her face. Letting my glance travel downward, I took in the immense, sloping shoulders-immense for a woman, that is-and noticed for the dozenth time the large, pear-shaped titties. Looking at them set me up pretty good, so I bent my head and took a titty in my mouth and sucked on it for several minutes. When it was covered with spit, I went to the other breast and did the same thing. Her nipples became large and I giggled a bit.
"She's getting a rod-on," I muttered.
I removed my joint from my pants and tucked the head of it into her cunt but didn't lie down on her entirely. Holding myself up with my hands, I let my cock move in and out of her gently while I continued to mouth her titties wetly. Boy, wbat a sensational feeling that was! I could have kept that up all night long except for one slinking thing.
From another part of the house I heard a door being opened and slammed. In alarm, I yanked my cock out of her and got off her and to the floor. I zipped my pants, my heart beating wildly now from fear, and tried to cover her body with her robe, but she was lying on it in such a way that I couldn't manage it.
The door behind me burst open suddenly and I was frozen with fear.
The biggest blonde guy I had ever seen stood there weaving from side to side. I saw right away that something was wrong with him and a second later I knew what it was. The odor of whiskey hit me and I knew he was drunk. His eyes were red as he stared at me, open-mouthed.
"Who the hell are you?" he roared at me. "What the goddamn hell are you doing in Fern's room, you little bastard?"
"Answer me, you little punk son-of-a-bitch. What are you doing in Fern's room, goddamn it?"
I didn't answer him but circled him warily-he was standing in the center of the room and between me and the open window-hoping to get him to lunge at me so I could sidestep him, rush past him and jump through the window to safety.
My luck was good-he did exactly that, and missed. "Come back here, you punk bastard!" he roared as I ran to the window and jumped out to the ground neatly. "Come back here, goddamn you!" he roared again.
I saw that the big blonde man had fallen to the floor and as he attempted to regain his feet, I turned and ran as fast as I could in the direction of Grandma's place.
V
For a solid week I was afraid to go near Mrs. Brown's house, though I thought about it almost every waking moment. I thought she had lied to me about being a widow and that her husband had come home unexpectedly and caught me in the bedroom with her. I thought he was probably a traveling salesman, or something like that and it was not until I heard two women talking about Mrs. Brown in a supermarket that I knew she really was a widow. One of these women said she was when the other asked her and I just happened to be near enough to have heard the question and answer.
My heart leaped when I heard this.
The big blonde man must be a friend of hers.
Well ... so was I a friend of hers. This was the way I reasoned the thing.
That evening as soon as darkness came I stole through the back yards of the houses separating Mrs. Brown's place from Grandma's and crept up to the bedroom window. The shade, I soon saw, was drawn but as usual not all the way down. I got down on my haunches and peered under the shade and saw Mrs. Brown standing in front of the mirror, just as she had been the first time I had seen her, and as I watched, she lifted her bare titties up, each in turn, and let them drop down to her chest again. The action made me as hot as ever and I wanted to yell at her that I was outside, but something-probably a suspicion that the big blonde guy might be around somewhere-prevented me. I just crouched there for a lime and enjoyed looking at her body, even though the lower part of it was covered by a skirt. Her titties seemed even larger, more pointed and wonderful than they had before. They stood straight out tiom her chest in the most wonderful way imaginable and just the sight of them was enough to cause me to drip juice into my drawers, as my Grandma always calls them. The juice ran down my leg and made me shiver with pleasure.
I received a shock then. The big guy walked into the room naked. His John stuck out in front of him hi a real hard fashion, and as I saw him come up in back of Mrs. Brown, his prong poking at her skirt, I got as jealous as could be. It was all I could do to keep from yelling at that big ape to slay away from my girl.
My girl?
The big guy lifted her skirt and she seemed to sigh as she leaned over, her hands resting on the dressing table top to hold her up. He pulled her skirt up over her hips, yanked her panties down and sank the shaft into her from behind. Then, as Mrs. Brown bent over farther, her elbows resting on the dresser, he placed both of his big hands on her hips and began to pump furiously at her. The whole deal excited the devil out of me and I promptly forgot my jealousy-for the moment. I watched him as he fucked her from the rear and ... and I couldn't help noticing how much they resembled a couple of dogs on the street.
"Ralph," I heard Mrs. Brown cry out. "Oh, Ralph...! "
I saw the big guy close his eyes tightly, saw him grab her stomach and press in on it, saw him go on his tiptoes, saw him stiffen his entire body while at the same time Mrs. Brown seemed to go almost limp. The big guy must have been shooting off because Mrs. Brown got ail excited and began to cry out the weirdest-sounding words I'd ever heard, words that didn't mean anything, even as his body stiffened and jerked around something terrible.
He let out the loudest cry you'd ever want to hear and began to pump at her, but in much quicker fashion. I guess he wanted to blow off in her a second time, or maybe he hadn't quite completed all of his first discharge, there wasn't any way for me to know, of course. Right about then was when I did the stupidest thing in my entire life.
With a moan that seemed to come from my feet, I sprang into the room, rushed over to them and began to kiss Mrs. Brown's feet and legs.
Of course, the big guy stopped all his fooling around and right away he started yelling and wanting to bust my head and stuff, but Mrs. Brown grabbed him, pulled him away from me and made him sit down quietly in a chair. He still glared at me, but Mrs. Brown, her skirt down again now, put her arm about my shoulders and told me not to pay any attention to Ralph. That was what she called him. She said Ralph had a very bad temper, but he meant me no harm. I didn't know if I could believe this or not, the way he glared at me, but after a few minutes, she told him to get up and leave the room and get dressed. He did so without a word to either her or me. Mrs. Brown waited until he had left the room and then turned back to me.
"Jimmy boy," she asked softly, "where in the world have you been for the past week? I've missed you terribly." She kissed me on the cheek right after she said the words.
I told her about Ralph catching me in the bedroom with her after she had passed out from the sleeping pill, but she stopped me in the middle of it.
"I know all about that, dear. I explained it all to Ralph-just as if he didn't know anything about it."
I didn't know what she meant by that and said so.
"I mean, boy, that Ralph was the one who put the pill in the whiskey. He's done it to me before. He gets a big kick out of. . . taking me when I'm unconscious. One thing I'll say about Ralph, he never hurts me in any way. He-likes his fucking too much."
I guess I must have been pouting about then, for she laughed and ran her hand over my mouth and told me to cut it out.
"Cut what out?" I said, sulking just a little. "Don't act like you were mad at me, boy. I know you're not mad."
I reached out and touched one of her breasts. It felt wonderful, all soft and warm and nice and when I touched it, she laughed and squeezed me and said, "Still the hot kid, aren't you, boy?"
I didn't answer her. Instead I said, "Do you like his pecker in your cunt better'n mine?"
She laughed and shook her pretty head and squeezed me again. "Oh, I just love to see you so jealous, boy. It does something wonderful to me. However, you have no need to worry about Ralph. I only allow him around me when there's no one better, such as yourself. After all, boy and here she gave me a searching and reproachful look, "you have been neglecting Mrs. Brown something terrible of late. Now you must tell me. Why haven't you been to see me? You promised me you'd come every evening after dark ... I've been very lonely for you, boy, very lonely indeed."
"Do you really like me, Mrs. Brown?" I blurted. "Do you like me real good?"
"Yes, boy. I like you very much-more than anyone else I know."
I took a deep breath and looked at her stoutly. "Then will you do something for me?"
"I might," she replied cautiously. "What is it?"
"Will you send Ralph away from here ... right now?"
She started to smile but stopped it when she saw the serious look on my face. Sighing a bit, she let go of me and went to the door and opened it.
"Ralph," she said loudly, "finish getting dressed and go home. I don't want to see you any more. Understand?"
Ralph cursed and muttered something I couldn't understand, but a few moments later I heard the front door slam. Mrs. Brown smiled at me, left the room, apparently to lock the front door, for I heard it being slammed again, and returned after a few moments. She stood in the doorway, her hands on her wide hips and smiled widely. "There, boy ... does that prove I like you better'n him?"
I smiled tensely. "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am."
"Now," she said, walking toward me slowly and in a way that excited me greatly, "what would you like to do, dear?"
"Anything," I said eagerly. "What would you like, Mrs. Brown?"
"I'd like nothing at the moment," she said flatly. "Tell you the truth, I prefer to be around you for a time-and then have you take me, or I'll take you. Tell you what, boy. Come out into the other room with me. Wait, I'll put a blouse on. Have to look fairly respectable in the other room-never know when someone will come to the door wanting money for charity-that sort of thing." She stopped chattering for a moment and studied my face. "Something bothering you, boy?"
"No, Mrs. Brown," I said, sighing. "Guess I'm just so happy to be with you. Well, guess that's enough for me for now."
She kissed my mouth wetly and pulled away when I tried to cup my hand over her breast. She slipped on a blouse and took my hand and led me into the other room. It was a nice-looking room with lots of nice furniture in it, some of it new, some of it kind of old. The carpet was thick and ran from one wall to the other. It looked new. Mrs. Brown had a lot of lamps of all kinds in the big room and some of them were turned on.
"How do you like it, Jimmy?"
"A pretty room," I said. "Lot prettier than Grandma's." "Is your grandma poor, boy?"
I screwed up my face, I guess, in thought. "No, I don't think so. She's not rich, either. At least I don't think she is.
I guess I don't know-I never thought about Grandma that way.
"Most kids don't," she said.
"My Grandma's okay," I said defensively, and unnecessarily.
Mrs. Brown shot a sharp glance at me then. "I wasn't implying that she wasn't okay, boy."
I said nothing because I couldn't think of anything. A moment later I saw a picture on a shelf that interested me for some reason. It was a photograph of an old man. She noticed me looking at it and touched my arm gently.
I glanced at her. "Who is he, Mrs. Brown, your father?"
She smiled oddly. "He was my husband, boy. Mr. Nate Brown. I married him when I was a young girl and he was sixty-two. He was quite rich and when he died some years later I became ... well, I won't go into that."
"You were married to an old man?" I asked incredulously. "What did you do ... for...? " I broke off, not knowing how to say it.
She laughed softly. "What did I do for sex? Nothing much, boy. Not until he died. I was a faithful wife-whatever that is. After he passed on, I cut loose a bit, however."
"How long ... has he been ... dead?"
"About five years now, boy. Why are you interested in him?"
"Because..."
"Because why, boy?"
"Because he looks like a nice old man," I said truthfully.
She nodded and her bosom heaved at the same time. "You're right. He was a nice old man-very nice. He was extremely good to me, and, I think, so was I to him."
"But old men can't. . . can they? I mean, I've heard that."
"Sometimes they can, sometimes they can't. Let me put it this way. Some old men can, some can't. This one..." She sighed. "This one couldn't, not ever."
"Gee, you must have had a ... rough time."
She sighed. "At times it was rough, but I liked him ... and ... oh well, let's talk about something else."
I wanted to talk about her marriage for some nutty reason. "Didn't he every do it to you, Mrs. Brown-not even once?" I asked.
"No, not even once. Oh, he tried a lot of times, but he couldn't achieve the necessary erection."
"Gee," I said soberly. "That makes me feel awful sorry for him."
She squeezed my arm nicely and smiled at me. "That was a very nice thing to say, boy. I like you for it." She bent over, kissed my mouth wetly, pulled away and smiled at me again. "You're a good kid," she added huskily.
"I guess I'd just go nuts if I was around you all the time and couldn't get no rod-on, Mrs. Brown. Did he go nuts?"
She shook her head, even as she squeezed my arm again. "No, he didn't go nuts. Old men ... well ... I suppose they are resigned to that sort of thing. I mean I think they become that way ... after a number of failures."
"How come old men can't get no rod-on?" I wanted to know.
She shrugged. "Nobody knows, I guess."
"It must have been awful being in bed with him every night, and getting hot like you do and not getting anything done about it."
She nodded. "There were many times when it was almost unbearable, which is why I'm..."
I waited for her to go on, but she seemed to want to remain silent. "I wish you would say it," I told her. "Whatever it was you started to say and didn't."
"I guess I was going to say that his being the way he was. . . well ... maybe that's why I'm such a hot woman now."
"I'm glad you're a hot woman and I'm glad you let me come here."
She smiled and kissed me and led me to the sofa where we sat down together. Her skirt had crept up her leg quite a way, thrilling me a lot. I looked at her legs and got very hard quickly.
"Have you got one, boy?" she asked, leaning over and looking into my eyes in that wild way she had of doing.
"Yes, Ma'am, I have."
"Is it very hard, boy?" she asked softly.
I shifted my weight around on the sofa. "Yes, Ma'am. It's so hard ... it hurts."
"May I ... suck it off for you?"
I stiffened. "Y ... Yes," I replied, my voice faltering from the sheer excitement of hearing her speak in this manner.
She made no move to do what she had suggested but continued to lean toward me and look at me strangely. "Tell me, boy, What have you been doing all this past week?"
"Doing?" I was puzzled by this question. "I don't know what you mean."
She ran her hand up my leg suggestively. "I mean, have you been playing with yourself all week?"
I flushed. "No, Ma'am. You told me not ever to do that, don't you remember?"
She grinned and ran her hand up my leg again and this time squeezed it hard. "So I did, boy. I'd forgotten. Then ... you did nothing all week? ... I mean, you haven't gone off in a. . . whole week?" She sounded tremendously excited now.
"No, Ma'am, except for one time ... I woke up during the night and ... well, I was all wet ... you know."
She sucked in her breath and squeezed my leg again. "Wonderful," she said, breathing heavily. "So my boy had a wet dream. Wonderful, simply wonderful."
I didn't know what she meant by this. The dream had been okay but not all that wonderful. "Yes, Ma'am," I mumbled.
"Imagine anyone having a wet dream. I had forgotten that males have them. Oh ... that makes me so very hot, boy, you can't even imagine what it does to me."
I looked at her doubtfully. "No, Ma'am. I guess I can't,"
I said uncertainly.
"Take it out of your pants, boy," she said suddenly and harshly.
"You do it, Mrs. Brown," I suggested, wanting her to.
She unzipped me and snaked her hand inside my pants. I felt her fingers gripping my rod-on and a thrill ran up and down my back.
"You get on top of me, boy," she said harshly. "I don't want to mouth you. Just thought I did."
"I want to get on top of you, Mrs. Brown. I like it better that way."
"Really now, do you, boy? I had the idea you liked to be sucked." There may have been sarcasm in her tone, but if there was, I couldn't be sure of it, and besides, I wasn't too well informed (at the time) of what sarcasm meant.
"May I get on top of you now, Mrs. Brown?" I asked eagerly, my heart thumping fiercely.
"Just a minute, kid," she said. She got up from the sofa and left the room. She was always doing that sort of thing, it appeared. This was about the fifth of sixth time she had got up and left a room I was in. It occurred to me that she might have gone to the bathroom. This I wanted to see.
I jumped to my feet, walked across the room to the archway, glanced to my left and saw a door standing a few inches ajar. I tiptoed to the door, not wanting her to know I was going to sneak a look at her while she was peeing or whatever. I came to the door and pushed it open far enough to see into the room. Right away I saw it wasn't a bathroom but just a large room with a lot of paintings hanging around on the walls and sitting on stands or holders, or whatever you call the things they put paintings on. I stuck my head around the edge of the doov and saw Mrs. Brown standing in front of a painting, her chin resting in her left hand, her other hand holding the elbow her left arm. She was studying a painting that was only partially finished. The face in the painting looked familiar and with surprise I recognized it as being myself.
I stepped into the room and made a sound with my mouth.
Mrs. Brown whirled about quickly. Seeing me, she grabbed up a cloth and hung it over the painting. "Kid," she said, her voice low but angry-sounding. "Don't ever come in this room unless I tell you to. Now, beat it ...
I flushed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Brown. I didn't know you had a lot of pictures of. . . naked people in this room."
"Goddamn you!" she yelled. "Get out of this room and be quick about it."
"I'm ... sorry ... Mrs. Brown ... I ... "
"Get the hell out of here!" she hollered, and gave me a push.
I finally got the idea, I suppose. I got out of there fast. I ran back to the front room. I was half tempted to yank open the front door and run home. I knew I shouldn't have gone into that room without asking her permission. That is, I knew I shouldn't have tried to sneak a look at her just because I thought she might be peeing. I couldn't understand why she would get so angry because I happened to see those paintings, or maybe it was that one particular painting, the one that looked like it would be of me ... whenever she got it done. I say "she" got it done because I was fairly certain she was the one doing the painting, although I didn't know this for sure at the moment.
I sank down on the sofa and discovered I was trembling all over like a dog that's been swimming and has come up on the bank to feel cool air. The more I tried to stop trembling, the more I trembled. It got so bad I began to feel like a fool. I wasn't a sappy guy, the kind of guy who gets all worked up and wild and ... what's the word?-hysterical-over every little thing, but there had been something so savage and angry about her ordering me out of that room that really shook me up.
It was about this time that I decided I was going to clear out of there, and do it fast. I didn't want her to see me trembling this way-she would think I was a sissy or something, even though by now she ought to know differently. I jumped to my feet and moved to the front door quickly and pulled on the knob. The door didn't come open, so I checked it to see if it was locked.
The door didn't appear to be locked.
Still, I couldn't get the fool thing to open.
I swore and ran to the bedroom and headed for the open window. I was about to crawl through it and beat it when I heard Mrs. Brown's voice. I stopped halfway through the window and stared at her.
She was entirely naked and was carrying a long whip.
"Come back here, boy," she said severely. "It is time."
I wet my lips. "Time for what, Mrs. Brown?"
"Time for me to enjoy myself, boy. Come back into the room, if you please, all the way."
I looked at the whip in her hands, saw the extreme look of what I now recognized as being wild lust in her eyes, and jumped hastily to the ground.
"Damn you! Come back to Mrs. Brown, boy!" she yelled after me. "Come back, come back!"
I didn't hear any more. I was already two back yards away from her place.
VI
I was so scared of Mrs. Brown now that I didn't go near her place for almost two weeks. I don't mind telling you it was awful hard not to go there. I missed her like mad, missed seeing her big, bare titties, her firm, tanned legs, her narrow waist and big hips, missed seeing all of her in the worst way imaginable. I nearly went nuts trying not to go near her window after dark every night, but somehow-for, as I said, almost two weeks-I managed to stay away. I wasn't sure what I was scared of, but there was something kicking around in the back of my mind-something that refused to come out and let me take a good look at it.
It never occurred to me that she might have wanted me to whip her. I had jumped to the conclusion that she wanted to punish me for barging into that room filled with paintings. I couldn't imagine-at the time-why she had gotten so angry at me for seeing the paintings. After all, paintings were only paintings. Why get mad about someone seeing them?
Then one evening I couldn't stand it any longer, so I went to her bedroom window and peered in cautiously. The shade was drawn, but as usual it wasn't down all the way, and by bending low I could just barely see into the room. Mrs. Brown was in the room, fully dressed and lying on the bed, both hands behind her head, her bosom heaving up and down fantastically. I stared at her bosom, saw the rise and fall of it, and sure enough began to grow stiff in the pants.
I must have moaned softly or something because she glanced sharply and suddenly at the window. Sitting up quickly, she moistened her lips with her tongue. "Jimmy," she said, her voice sounding odd. "Are you there, boy?"
I discovered my own lips were very dry, so I moistened them as she had hers. I tried to answer her, but no words would come. They seemed to be stuck in my throat. I swallowed and tapped the windowpane. A moment later she was helping me into the room, pulling and tugging on my arms in a manner that wasn't at all necessary-I was quite capable of climbing into the bedroom by my own efforts. I think she was so excited at seeing me that she just wanted to touch me, grab me, do something to me that was physical in nature.
I didn't blame her. I wanted to do something physical to her, also. I did. I kissed her mouth right away, the moment my feet were planted inside the room and the shade had been put back in place. I ran my tongue over her lips, put my arms about her ample body, and pressed my hard-on against her tummy fiercely. I was going to take her this time, no matter what happened. Even if she got mad enough to kill me for it, which I knew she wouldn't do, of course. I had, as a matter-of-fact, forgotten about that whip.
"Oh, Jimmy boy," she moaned, pulling her lips away from mine momentarily. "You bad bad boy, staying away from Mrs. Brown and punishing her for being mean to you. I've missed you so, boy. I been half out of my mind thinking you might never come back to see me. Why did you stay away so long, dear, why?"
"I don't know, Ma'am. Guess I was ... scared."
"I wasn't going to harm you. I merely wanted you to whip me a little, to get me excited so I could fuck you better, boy. What's so terrible about that?"
I stared at her, open-mouthed. "You want me to whip you, Ma'am?"
"Yes, dear."
"What for?" I asked, gulping.
"Because..." she pulled away from me and walked toward the bed, her back turned to me, her shoulders heaving a little.
"Guess I don't understand that," I said slowly.
She turned around slowly and faced me. Her black eyes were alive with lust. "Never mind. You don't have to understand it right now, Jimmy boy. Just come here and put your arms about me, I've been so lonesome for your touch." Saying this, she quickly removed her blouse and yanked off her bra, exposing her great breasts to my view. I had almost forgotten what a wonderful sight they were and when I saw them now, so suddenly and wonderfully, I nearly had a happening in my pants.
"Oh..." she said, giggling, "you should see the look on your face. Talk about young lust. Come here, boy, fondle them, suck them, do anything you want." She began to sway her hips about suggestively. "Goodness, I'm hot. You can do more to me by looking at me than most men can over an entire night."
I thought it was a good time to make my point, so I said, "I'd better not, now that I've had time to think about things. You might get very mad at me if I touched you." I watched her eyes closely as I said the words.
She fluttered her lids a little and looked down oddly at the floor. "All right, boy," she said softly, very softly, "I stand reprimanded. I promise never to fly off the handle at you again, or to ever swear angrily at you again. Is that what you want to hear from me, boy?"
"Yes, Ma'am," I said with a quietness that surprised even me. "I'm a kid, sure. I admit it. Why wouldn't I admit it? That doesn't mean I'm a dog that has to be kicked around when the owner doesn't feel good."
She raised her eyes and I saw tears in them. "I'm sorry, boy. Sometimes I have a bad temper. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I like you too much to want to do it, but I'm just a human being and that means I have lots of faults. I'll try to be nicer to you all of the time. Okay, boy?"
I wanted to run to her and bury my face in her titties and tell her it didn't matter what she did or said to me, all that mattered was that I loved her so much it hurt.
But I didn't.
I lacked the courage to do it.
"Mrs. Brown," I said at length. "You're an awful nice woman. I ... "
She came to me and put her arms about me. "Never mind, boy. Just so we understand each other. You and I will get alone just fine. Only one thing that worries me now about our ... relationship."
"What's that, Ma'am?"
"That damned Ralph. He knows about it."
Sudden fear hit me. "What'll we do, Ma'am?" I stammered.
"Don't worry about it, boy. I know a way to keep his mouth shut. The way is money. Ralph loves money."
"Will it cost a lot of money?" I asked for something to say.
"Don't worry about that, either, boy. I have plenty of money. One other thing ... Ralph will probably insist on certain privileges..." She moistened her lips and glanced away from me momentarily. "That is to say, he will very-likely insist on coming here and ... making love to me from time to time. Are you going to be ... jealous of him of not?"
I swallowed hard. "I'll try not to be, Ma'am."
A sudden gleam came into her eyes. "Say ... would you like to ... watch me ... do it with him sometime? Would that thrill you, boy?"
I flushed. "I don't guess I would, Ma'am," I told her, but I couldn't quite meet her gaze because I knew then and there thai I would like to watch them very much if there was some way I could do it without her knowing.
"Well ... okay for now, boy. We'll just forget about Ralph for the time being. What would you like to do to me, first, boy?"
I swallowed again, very hard this time. "I'd-I'd like ... to lie on the bed with you ... and ... play ... with you, Ma'am."
"Come, then," she said abruptly, and led me to the bed.
I had something I wanted to ask her before getting on the bed. "Mrs. Brown, if I ask you a question, will you get mad at me?"
She laughed, one knee already on the bed, and pulled me down on it, throwing her right leg over my body lovingly. "Go ahead and ask it." She began to run her leg up and down on my body.
"Why did you get mad when I saw the picture of me?"
"Oh ... that ... well ... I never let people see my paintings till they're finished, boy. That's the only reason." She ran her leg up and down my body as if she were having a wonderful time touching me. I certainly was having a fine time feeling her leg on my body. I was awful hard now.
"Okay," I said absently, having forgotten what the question was. "I mean, I understand," I finished.
"Put your hand under my skirt, boy. Run your fingers up and down on my thigh flesh." I did.
"Stick your fingers under my panties, boy; I want to feel you tickle me there."
"You want me to finger-fuck you, Ma'am?" I asked bluntly.
She giggled. "Yes, that's what I want, boy. I was afraid to say it. I'm glad you did. You Ye much bolder than you used to be."
I got my fingers under her panties and felt for the wet spot. When I touched the heat and dampness of it, a chill ran up and down my spine and I began to tremble as much as I had that other time.
"What's the matter with you, boy? Why are you shaking so hard?"
"I ... I don't know, Mrs. Brown," I cried. "Guess I'm awful excited."
"Take your hand away for a time, boy. I don't want you shaking like that. My goodness..."
I removed my finger from her cunt and leaned my head on her bosom and felt the warmth of her big titties against my skin.
"You," she said strangely, "are the damndest kid I ever saw. I never know what to make of you."
I lifted her skirt with a yank, grabbed her panties and ripped them off, climbed between her legs and buried my shaft brutally inside of her cunt. I pumped her like a guy gone crazy because I had had enough talk and now I wanted action and plenty of it. Her cunt was hot and moist and maddening, and as my John went even deeper into her, I heard her muttering in a strange tongue.
"How does it feel, Mrs. Brown?" I asked her as I moved faster in her. "Do you like it, Mrs. Brown?"
"Mrs. Brown loves it," she said plainly, and immediately resumed muttering words I couldn't understand.
The next thing I knew she had either dumped me off or I slipped off her in some way, for I found myself lying on the floor while she remained on the bed. I climbed back onto the bed and looked at her wildly-or at least she told me later that I looked at her that way. I then did the craziest thing I had ever done in my life. Instead of burying the shaft in her all over again, I moaned and lay down beside her and took one of her titties in my mouth. Mrs. Brown told me something else later on. She said I had done this, instead of resuming fucking her, because I had a great need to be mothered. I didn't know anything about that. All I knew was that I felt sleepy and couldn't for the life of me keep my eyes open any longer.
When I did awaken she wasn't on the bed with me. I sat up and rubbed my eyes and looked about the room for her, but she wasn't in view. I climbed off the bed and stumbled into the front room, hoping she would be there, but she wasn't. I searched the entire house and even went to the door of the room that contained the paintings, but it was locked.
"Where could she have gone?" I muttered. "And why did she run out on me?" I didn't know whether to be angry or lonely. "I'll bet she went out with the Ralph guy," I muttered further. "Damn him." I yanked open the front door of her house and, turning the porch light on, stared out at the darkened street. A few cars went by but no people seemed to be out walking. I shut the door and glanced at the clock near the doorway: It was ten o'clock and I wondered if Grandma would be worried about where I was.
I decided to search the house once more for Mrs. Brown, which I did. She was definitely not in the place, so I left through the front door and walked slowly around to the rear of the house, pausing to glance through the open window of her bedroom. I sighed and continued on, crossing over the various rear yards until I had reached Grandma's house. I entered quietly, as usual, through the rear door, went up the back stairs to my room and pushed open the door. I turned on the light and pulled off my shirt and shoes and lay down on the bed. A moment later I heard footsteps in the hallway, so I sat up and examined my clothing hurriedly to make certain there were no telltale spots on it. There weren't.
Grandma entered the room a few feet and stood there looking at me oddly. Her hair was iron-gray, parted in the middle, and drawn together at the back of her head. Her dress was black as usual, and as her pale blue eyes peered at me over her glasses, I knew she wasn't much interested in whether I was in my room or not.
"Hello, Grandma," I said evenly. "Something wrong?"
She shook her head. "No, I guess not." She wet her lips. "Goodnight, James." She turned and started from the room and almost for the first time I noticed how humped over she had become. I felt very sorry for her briefly, but when she turned once again, facing me and scowling at me in that fierce way she sometimes had, I lost my sorry feeling.
"You'd better stay at home evenings, James," she said. "What do you mean, Grandma?"
She shook her head. "Don't know. Just know you'd better stay at home." Her voice sounded harsh.
"All right, Grandma," I told her. "I will." I had no intention of staying at home evenings, but it was of no use telling her that because the only way to get along well with Grandma was not to tell her very much. I had discovered this a long time ago.
"Good night again, James. Did you have enought supper:
"Good night, Grandma. Yes, I had enough supper. I'm not a bit hungry."
She put her hand on her hip as she walked from the room. "My arthritis is killing me tonight," she muttered, and closed the door. She opened the door again immediately. "Where do you go at night, James? You got a girl?"
I managed to look a trifle guilty, though I didn't feel a bit that way. "Yes, Grandma. She's a nice girl. She's in my grade in school."
"Hmm, what's her name?"
"Fern."
She nodded and, as her stomach made a growling sound, frowned, and this time left the room for good. I waited a few moments and then got off the bed and stood up. My prick, for some crazy reason, was as hard as a lead pipe.
"How about that?" I muttered. "And no Mrs. Brown."
I was tempted to go to the bathroom, but I withstood it and climbed into bed instead. I closed my eyes, after switching off the light, and surprisingly enough dropped off to sleep despite my horny condition. I had a dream, though.
I had a beauty of a dream.
It seemed that everywhere I went, the floor, the ground, was covered with large, soft titties. I was barefoot and whenever I took steps, my feet would sink down into the soft titty flesh. I was tremendously excited and began to run slowly about the room, or field, or whatever it was, but as I increased my speed I must have hurt the flesh of the titties, for some of them began to moan and groan as I stepped on them and after a few moments others began to cry out and call up to me to stop it. I could actually hear one or two of them begging me to stop.
"Mrs. Brown," I muttered in my dream, "why did you go away?"
One of the very large titties, followed by another very large one, got to its feet-yes, they had feet, some of them-and began to throw things at me. I could hear stones, sticks, and that sort of thing bouncing off some kind of a wall that was now between the titties and me. I must have cried out as I became rigid.
The next thing I was dimly aware of-and it wasn't a dream now-was that I was out of the bed and rushing down the rear stairs in my underwear. Out the rear door I went, leaving it standing open. I rushed across the back yards between Grandma's and Mrs. Brown's until, breathless now, I was crouched outside of her window. My cock was quivering with desire and as I peered into the room, my heart seemed to almost stop beating.
Mrs. Brown and Ralph lay naked on the bed, their bodies in positions that allowed them to go down on each other. I could see that Mrs. Brown had her eyes tightly closed and each time her head bobbed downward, taking Ralph's entire piece in her mouth, she would grab his hips and kind of shake him, or try to. I couldn't figure out why she was doing this and I didn't care, either. Inasmuch as I wasn't the guy doing it with her, the only thing I cared about now was crouching there outside the window and watching this scene between a man and a woman. I took great care not to make any sounds that would give them cause for alarm, because I wanted to see them continue with this frantic thing they were doing.
VII
Funny thing-I wasn't the least bit jealous of Ralph. I envied him, of course, but I didn't resent what he was doing and what Mrs. Brown was doing to him. I found it to be the most interesting and exciting thing I had ever seen, or even thought about. It was almost as good as being in on the deal myself. I wished I could somehow get the shade up a couple more inches so I could see them better, but I knew I didn't dare try to snap it up for fear it would go all the way to the top and make a noise that would bring their sex scene to a close, something I definitely didn't want to happen.
I took my hard-on out of my underwear now because I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be unloading and I didn't want my shorts to be drenched with thick goo. My peter was quivering like crazy and I-like the average kid-was tempted to jack off as I watched the torrid scene on the bed, but I didn't. The hell with that stuff. When you jacked off the fun stopped right away and I wanted things to continue for a long time.
I directed my entire attention back to the bed.
Ralph had his big, blonde head between Mrs. Brown's legs and was running his tongue over her cunt much in the manner of a puppydog licking your hand. He didn't dart his tongue inside of her the way I had done previously, but kept on running it up and over her wet hole. She seemed to be wanting him to go deeper because she tried to spread her legs wider than they would go, apparently. Also, she would every now and then pump her loins at his face, probably to get his tongue farther inside of her in some way. I could tell by the expression on her face that she wasn't quite satisfied with the job big Ralph was doing on her box.
Ralph was lying on his back now and Mrs. Brown was lying, tummy on tummy, above him and still facing the opposite direction. She had placed her hands under his butt now and was trying to lift his loins each time she bobbed her head down on his cock, taking the entire piece into her mouth as she had done before. This wasn't as much of a difficult thing to do as a guy might believe ... because Ralph wasn't long in the prick department; he was short and stubby. His wasn't like mine, if I do say it myself. It came to my mind then that even Mrs. Brown had said something like this to me about two ... Johns. I wasn't just sure of what it had been, but I recalled something she had said about liking long, slim ones like mine.
Ralph's tongue was slapping against Mrs. Brown's box with great speed, but he still wasn't going down deeply inside of her where it does the most good. Suddenly Mrs. Brown raised herself, flung herself off Ralph and, sitting up on the bed, stared at him angrily.
"Damn it," she said disgustedly. "You aren't any good this way, Ralph. I wish the kid was here. He really knows how to honey-dip."
"Come on, baby," Ralph said. "Lie down. I want to..."
"No," she returned. "The hell with it. I wish you'd go home, Ralph."
I saw Ralph's cheeks begin to burn. "Say," he retorted, "what the hell's wrong with you all of a sudden? AH I ever hear these days is the kid, the kid! Fuck the kid. He's just a punk. What you need is a man, baby, not a punk brat."
Mrs. Brown, I could see, was fighting to control her temper. I guess she managed to do it okay because she smiled at him kind of strangely and said, "AD right, Ralph. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be flinging the kid in your face all the time, but damn it, he has the strangest, hottest effect on me. I can't explain it. . . I don't understand it, myself. All I know is that when that kid is around, I feel like ... well ... I feel great. That's it. The boy makes me feel great, wonderful."
"Young stuff. That's all it is. Everybody wants young stuff once in a while ... for a change. If you had the kid around all the time, he'd bore you stiff."
Mrs. Brown began to laugh. "What a way to put it, Ralph. He can bore me stiff anytime, anytime at all. Does he ever bore me with that. . . stiff thing of his. He..."
"You're playing with words," Ralph said kind of nastily. "I'm getting sick of hearing about this goddamned brat."
Mrs. Brown slipped a robe over her nudity. "Get dressed, Ralph. I want you to go home."
"What?" he roared. "You haven't ... we haven't finished yet."
"I'm out of the mood, Ralph. Sorry."
The big guy ran his fingers through his blonde hair and scowled. He looked mad enough to bust somebody and I was glad he didn't know I was outside the window. He got off the bed and dressed himself slowly. When he was fully clad, he glanced at Mrs. Brown. "You're kicking me out again," he stated flatly, "and I don't like it, baby."
Her back was turned to him and she was busy doing something to her face as she stood in front of the mirror. "Not kicking you out, Ralph. I just lost the urge. I'm tired and want to go to bed. You can come again. I'll call you up sometime."
There was a sneer on his face when he answered her. "Big deal, baby. I can come here again, can I? You'll tell me when, will you? Big big deal, baby. Do you know what you've been doing? You've been laying yourself wide open to the biggest deal in town."
She turned about and faced him, her cheeks having gone slightly pale. "Just what do you mean by that, Ralph?"
He walked to the door and yanked it open. "You've been screwing a minor, baby. I know about it. I could take you for plenty if I wasn't a good guy. You know that?" His eyes blazed into hers from across the room.
Mrs. Brown looked less pale right now. "I doubt that you'd ever try to pull a deal like that on me, Ralph. That's blackmail. Remember who I am. Who my husband was. I have a lot of influence in certain quarters. All I'd have to do would be to make one phone call and Ralph boy would be long gone from town, now wouldn't he?" She looked him straight in the eye when she spoke.
Ralph swore and left the bedroom, slamming the door after him. I took a deep breath and waited to see if he would return, but he didn't. I watched the front of the house and when I saw the lights of a car come on and heard the motor being started, I knew that Ralph was leaving. A moment later the car pulled away and disappeared into the night.
I looked back at Mrs. Brown, my heart thumping faster than ever now as she pulled open her robe and seemed to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She was fond of doing that, I had noticed. She shot her tummy outward suggestively, placed both hands on her wide hips and began to writhe her body about in the hottest way I had ever seen. I saw some spittle run down her chin and this made me very hot indeed. I was about to call out to her when she surprised me by looking straight at the window.
"You may come in now, Jimmy. I got rid of Ralph for you."
I had never heard such happy words in my life. I bounded into the room, ran across it to her, and threw my arms about her bare hips and kissed her cunt with the hottest, most willing tongue in the world. I got it inside of her and proceeded to make her cream.
She did, and quickly, all over my face, my chin, everything. She was pulling my hair like mad and for a while, as I tongued her cunt, I thought she would end up by yanking out every hair in my head. However, she stopped pulling it and began to pat my cheeks.
"That's enough for now, boy," she told me. "You made me cream beautifully. Please remove your tongue for the time being."
I moaned, got to my feet and buried my head between her mammoth titties. "Where did you go when I went to sleep?" I asked, muttering the words.
"What did you say, boy?" she asked as she stroked my face.
I removed my face from between her breasts. "I said, where did you go when I fell asleep earlier?"
"I had to go out and just by chance I ran into Ralph. I didn't want him to come here, but he insisted, so..."
"So you let him come here ... and do it to you."
"Yes, I did, boy. I have to, you see. If I don't allow Ralph to have a certain amount of fun with me, he can do me great harm."
"I thought you told me he couldn't harm you."
She bit her lips. "Yes, I said that, but I'm not too sure it was ... the truth. After all, boy, you are just a boy, a minor, and I'm in something of a hot seat fooling around with you, sexually."
"You got a hot seat all right," I said, grinning.
She kissed my mouth fiercely. "Oh, I just love you, kid. I don't know what I ever did before I met you. I must have led a lonely, dumb life, that's all I can say about it."
"How come you like me so much?" I asked happily.
She sighed. "Ask me something easy, boy. I've been trying to figure that one out for days and days. I've just about given up trying to figure it out. All I know is that I'd rather have you around than any grown man I've every known."
"That includes Ralph?" I asked hopefully. "It does, boy; it includes 'em all, every last one of 'em ... to me, you're the greatest, but don't get a swelled head, boy. You get a swollen head and I'll belt you one. Understand me?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I promise not to get no swelled head."
"Now you're talking like my boy again."
My face must have fallen at this, for she laughed and lifted my chin with her hand and kissed my mouth again. Then she released me and walked across the room and picked up a glass of whiskey and drank it-all of it. She made a little face, choked a bit, and slammed the glass down on the table top.
"My nerves," she said, not looking at me. "They're getting a little out of whack here of late. I think it's because of you, kid. I think about you so much I can hardly sleep nights."
"That's the way I am sometimes, Mrs. Brown. I just lay there in bed and picture how your naked body looks and right away I get a hard-on and ... boy ... what a time I have then."
"Tell me, boy. Do you ... pull it when you get that way:
I looked her straight in the eye. "I used to, Mrs. Brown, but not no more. Not since you told me not to waste myself."
"Good for you, kid. That's the way I like to hear a kid talk. You see, if you pull it. . . well, it makes you a kind of a jerk."
"Is that what they mean by a jerk?" I asked.
She nodded. "That's the way the word got started, I believe. Let me tell you something, kid. Whenever you see a real jerk, you can just about lay odds that he jacks off all the time. Being a jerk and jerking. . . well, they go together ... always."
"Can we lie on the bed together, Mrs. Brown?" I asked hopefully.
She glanced at me ... in amusement (I supposed). "Do you ever think of anything but sex, kid?"
I shook my head. "Not when I'm around you. Only a darned fool would think of anything else when a wonderful woman like you is near."
"Picking up a bit in the flattery department, I see. Where did you learn that trick, boy?"
"It's no trick. I meant what I said."
She stretched her arms high above her head, which made her titties seem to be twice as large as usual. "Are you asking me to lie down so you can ram your prick into me, boy?"
"Yes, Ma'am," I said, summoning up all the courage I could.
"I'll be bombed. You're the craziest, sexiest damned kid I ever saw."
"Yes, Ma'am. I guess you're right."
"Tell me something, Jimmy. How long were you standing outside the window watching Ralph and me?"
"Just a few minutes, Mrs. Brown."
She arched her brows thoughtfully. "How many minutes would you say? Five, ten, what?"
"No, not that long. About three or four minutes."
She appeared to take a deep breath and to let the air out slowly. "Then you didn't see what happened at first?"
I frowned at this. "What happened at first, Mrs. Brown?"
She smiled. "So you didn't see that part. Good. I'm not sure I would have wanted you to."
I chewed on my lips. "Now you've got me curious. What happened between you and Ralph?"
She smiled again. "Never mind. Forget it. Want to lie down and fool around?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
She lay down on the bed and stared at me. "Come on, boy. Don't keep Mrs. Brown waiting."
"I have to go to the bathroom first, Ma'am."
She sighed and pulled her robe together, shutting off my view of her smooth, tanned body. "Very well, go and take care of yourself, boy, but don't keep Mrs. Brown waiting too long or shell get up and ... well, you know ... hurry up about your business."
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll hurry. Is that the door to the bathroom over there?" I pointed.
"Of course it is. Hurry up now, boy. I'm feeling a bit crabby tonight." , I headed for the bathroom door but stopped before I reached it. Turning about quickly, I glanced at her and grinned. "Hope you don't disappear on me again while I'm out of the room."
She laughed and shook her head. "Don't worry, you crazy kid ... coming over here late, at night wearing only your underwear ... that's the craziest thing I ever heard of."
I entered the bathroom, took care of myself, and then returned to the bedroom. Mrs. Brown was sitting on the edge of the bed, her robe pulled tightly about herself. I was disappointed because I thought she would be naked and panting for me, but she wasn't panting at all.
"Tell me something, boy," she said, studying my eyes. "When you ran out of your grandma's house, did you lock the door?"
I flushed. "No, Ma'am. I left the door open." She studied me even harder. "And your grandma, she's alone in the house, boy?" "Y-Yes, Ma'am."
Mrs. Brown sighed. "You go home, boy. Go to your room, get dressed, and come back here after you've made certain the door is locked. Understand?"
"What for, Ma'am? Grandma is asleep."
"I'm trying to teach you something, boy. I want you to be a little more considerate of others. I don't care for people who have no consideration for others. Your Grandma is an old lady and probably frightened to death of being alone. Now go home-run as fast as you can-and do what I told you to do. Hurry up."
"Gee, do I have to?"
"You're goddamned right you have to," she flared, and almost instantly her face softened again. "Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to blow up. Please go and do as I requested, will you?
That's a good kid."
"Yes, Ma'am," I said hastily. "I'll do exactly what you told me. Won't take long. I'll be right back. Hope ... you're ... awful hot by the time I get back, Mrs. Brown."
She smiled. "That's your job, boy. You get me hot. Okay?"
I nodded eagerly. "Shall I climb through the window or go out the front door?"
Again she smiled. "The window, boy. I can't have you going out my front door in your underwear, not even at this time of night when there are few if any people on the street."
I ran to the window, shoved one leg through, pulled the other one after me and jumped to the ground. I looked inside the room and saw her rubbing her breasts as she stared straight at the window. "I'll be right back," I called softly.
She blinked, threw open her robe, and let her stomach protrude in my direction. She had a way of doing this that was the hottest thing in the world to see. The sap trickled from my John down my leg and I knew I had better run home to Grandma's now if I was ever going to do it. With something like a strangled cry of excitement in my throat, I turned and fled across the back yards until I arrived at Grandma's rear door. It was open just as I had left it. I remembered what Mrs. Brown had told me to do and so I went up the back stairs quietly and to my room. I got dressed as quickly and quietly as possible and started to leave the house again. I thought about Grandma being scared and alone-Mrs. Brown had said old ladies get that way-and so I went to her bedroom door and peeked into the darkened room. I could see her form on the bed and I thought I could hear her breathing. I listened for a moment, decided she was sleeping okay, and left the doorway and went back down the stairs. I made sure I had my house key and after locking the rear door this time, went out into the yard. I walked back to Mrs. Brown's window. To my surprise and disappointment the lights were off in her house, even the bedroom had no light. I started to crawl through the window, but something stopped me cold. The window was down-and locked.
VIII
I was back in my room now lying on my bed and trying my best to understand why Mrs. Brown, my wonderful Mrs. Brown, would do such a terrible thing to me. I was almost in tears and this disgusted me so that I had a need to do something defiant in nature. The thing I did was, of course, the obvious one-I jacked my cock hard and frantically, throwing off the sheet, turned on my side and let the streaming syrup squirt to the floor. I then turned on the light and, using two handkerchiefs (an awfully lot of stuff comes from me usually) soaked up the sap and stuffed the handkerchiefs into the back pocket of my pants, which hung over the foot of the bed.
Then I turned off the light, lay down and went to sleep.
I slept like a baby and when I awakened, Grandma was standing by the bed looking down at me.
"Good morning, Grandma," I said, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.
"You going to stay in bed all day, James?" she asked, her voice very high-pitched today for some reason.
"No, Grandma," I said, a trace of guilt running through me for having done what I did during the night. "I'm getting up right now."
"Doctor was just here. Says I have to go to the hospital for some check-ups, tests and other nonsense. You be all right alone here for a few days, James?"
"Yes, Grandma, I'll be okay. Are you feeling worse?"
"No, I feel all right. That fool of a doctor-he never does know what he's talking about. You'd better get up. The ambulance will be here in a few minutes. Fool thing. I don't need an ambulance. Don't know what the neighbors will think, probably think I'm dead or sick or both."
I managed to hold back the grin that threatened to erupt into a laugh. Grandma had just said a funny thing and didn't realize it.
"I'll get up right now, Grandma," I told her, "and help you get ready. How many days will you be gone?"
She shook her head and wiped her chin with her kerchief. "I don't know. Who can say what those foolish doctors want a body to do. I declare the whole world is getting crazier every day. Tests. What do they need tests for? Ain't I test enough? I'm here, ain't I?" She turned and left the room without another word and by the time I had gotten up and washed and dressed and gone down the stairs the ambulance was pulling away from the house with Grandma in it. I hollered at the driver, but he didn't hear me, or stop, or anything else. Grandma hadn't told me what hospital she would be in. Well, Mrs. Parks would know. I could ask her when she came to do the cleaning, provided, of course, that Grandma made arrangements for her to continue to come to the house. I didn't know this, either. Grandma wasn't much for telling me what her plans were until the last minute, if then.
I had a bowl of cereal and milk and wondered what I'd do for something to eat while she was in the hospital. Apparently, Grandma hadn't thought of that, and neither had I until now. I shrugged this off right away. The hell worrying about small matters. I had a little money hidden away in my room; if need be, I could go to a hamburger joint and eat. I thought about being able, now, to go to a hamburger joint of my own free will, and whenever I felt like it, and decided I kind of liked this freedom and liberty thing-as long as my money held out. Mrs. Brown?
I frowned as her name popped into my head.
"Mrs. Brown," I muttered as I continued to stand in the front door staring up the street in the direction the ambulance had gone. "Mrs. Brown, I ought to be mad as can be at you for what you did last night, but somehow I can't be mad at you. All I can think about is how great it is to see you, to have you suck me and fuck me and ... well, touch me, even."
It dawned on me that I was talking out loud and I glanced up and down the street and across the yard and even behind me to see if anyone was about to have heard my remarks. I heaved a sigh of relief, for there was, of course, no one within earshot of me. I was entirely alone. I shivered a bit at the realization of this because it was the first time I had ever been left entirely alone and in charge of a house. I supposed I was in charge of it unless Grandma had given Mrs. Parks the authority.
I closed the door and locked it, even though it was a warm morning. Grandma always kept the front door locked, warm weather and otherwise. I suppose this was because she was, as Mrs. Brown had suggested, scared. Scared of what? was my thought. How could an old lady have anything to be frightened of? Who would want to do anything to her? I grinned at this thought. As usual, I was thinking only in terms of sexy stuff.
"I must be nuts or something," I muttered. "I can't think of anything else any more."
Naturally, this sort of thing turned me on and right away I started getting wild, hot thoughts. I wanted to leave the house and run all the way to Mrs. Brown's bedroom window, but I knew I couldn't. It was only a little after eleven o'clock in the morning and I had to wait until dark. She had told me this in no uncertain terms. I wasn't to come around during the daylight house-someone might see me and there would be hell to pay.
"Maybe," I muttered, "I could walk by the house but stay across the street from it. That way maybe I could catch a glimpse of Mrs. Brown." I wanted to do this in the worst way. I was, infact, getting more frantic about it by the minute as my prick began to grow and little squirts of sap trickled down my legs. In no time I was soaked with my own juice.
"What a waste," I said aloud. "That stuff ought to have been squirted into Mrs. Brown's box." Mrs. Brown's box? What a magic phrase that was.
It caused me to squirt a little more and before I knew what I was doing, I was out on the street, crossing it, and walking briskly toward Mrs. Brown's house. When I arrived at a spot across the street from the house, I glanced about as casually as I could to see if anyone was looking at me (no one was) and then I shot a glance at the house. I saw no sign of Mrs. Brown. The front door was closed and it looked as if the car was missing from the garage. I couldn't be certain of this-the garage" door was down. It occurred to me then that I had never seen Mrs. Brown's car, or even knew if she had one. I certainly had never seen her driving a car. Did she have one?
I walked down the street for two blocks, crossed over and returned to her side, this time boldly glancing into the driveway to see if the bedroom window was up or down. It seemed to be down. My hopes went skidding then and I swore silently to myself. I hated to keep on walking but didn't have enough nerve to go to the door and knock. A thought came to me. Why not go back to Grandma's and look up Mrs. Brown's phone number and call her? What was her first name? It came to me right away. Fern. Fern Brown. Crazy.
I almost ran back to Grandma's.
Looking through the phone book hastily, I found the number easily and with trembling fingers dialed the phone.
I waited while the phone rang and rang at the other end.
Mrs. Brown didn't answer.
I hung up and swore harshly.
I had a terrible aching rod-on now.
I waited a few minutes and called her again. This time I heard the phone being lifted and I almost cried out from sheer relief.
"Hello..." Her voice was soft and sexy-sounding over the phone and I knew then if I had never known before that I was madly in love with Mrs. Brown.
"This is Jimmy," I said, my voice faltering slightly.
Silence. My heart sank.
Then: "Beg your pardon," she said. "Who is it?"
I cleared my throat. "Jimmy. Your boy. I want to see you.
Again silence. Then: "Sorry," she said. "I know no such person. Are you sure you know who you're calling?"
"I ... thought I was calling Mrs..." But I didn't get a chance to complete the sentence, for she had hung up the phone. I spoke her name several times and asked if she were there, but, of course, there was no answer. I hung up the phone, my mind going around in a circle. Why would she do this to me? Hadn't she understood what I had said, or was there someone in the room with her which might prevent her from speaking to me on the phone.
My heart leaped. That must be the reason she had acted so funny toward me.
"Boy!" I muttered in relief. "I was scared for a moment."
But no matter how many times during the day I thought it over and agreed with this, I couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong. When darkness finally came, I was out the rear door of Grandma's house and racing toward the window of Mrs. Brown's bedroom. When I arrived there, I saw that the house was dark, but the window was up a couple of inches. I managed to push it higher and to crawl inside. Groping my way about the dark room, I found the bed and, using this as a guideline, made my way to the door that opened into the front room. I got the door open and stepped into the other room and stopped in my tracks. I could hear soft music coming from somewhere close at hand. It was very soft and it sounded scary coming at me from out of the darkness. I stumbled about the room, found a lamp and turned it on. Then I turned off the Hi-Fi set which was where the music had come from and wondered why she'd leave the house and not turn off the thing. I thought about turning off the lamp and waiting in the dark for her to return, but I didn't want to sit in the dark, didn't like the scariness of it.
I sank down on the sofa, the same one I had sat on before with her the time she had sucked me ... or had she sucked me as I sat there? I couldn't remember, and right at the moment I didn't care. I was as hard between the legs as could be, and nervously I got to my feet and began to walk around the room, wishing the hardness would leave me.
"What's happening around here?" I muttered aloud. "Where is she?"
It was some time before I got rid of my rod-on and when I did, I was glad because I still felt guilty about having "abused" myself earlier. I turned off the lamp-after making certain I knew where the archway was-and walked carefully in the dark to the door of the room that contained the paintings. I tried the knob, turning it enough to open the door. I stepped into the room and was surprised to see a small light burning in one corner. The light was a dim one I could hardly see anything else by, so I moved about with care, not wanting to knock any of her paintings off their standards. I saw the painting of myself in the nude and noticed that it seemed to be finished now. I also noticed something else about it. Mrs. Brown had painted a long, slim John at the front. I grinned at the painting of me with a rod-on and stood there looking at the thing and grinning ever harder now and wondering why she would paint me that way.
"Mrs. Brown," I murmured. "You're always talking about what a character I am, but you're an even bigger one than I am."
"Really, Jimmy boy, do you think so?" a voice said from behind me.
I whirled about, my heart jumping crazily, my face probably filled with fear. I drew in my breath harshly and let it out in a sudden whoosh. "Mrs. Brown," I said, "you scared me something awful."
"That makes us even, boy," she said. "You've frightened the wits out of me twice." I saw now that she was dressed in a long, black gown.
"What were you doing in here?" I asked.
"I should ask you that, boy. Come on." She gave her hand to me. "Let's leave my paintings to themselves and go to the bedroom, dear."
We went to the bedroom where she immediately removed her long, black dress, never once taking her eyes from my face.
"Mrs. Brown," I said carefully, "when I called you today, why did you pretend you didn't know me."
She turned her eyes away from me now and walked to the mirror and studied her body, which was clad only in a bra, panties and black stockings, her dress having been placed carefully over a chair. She took quite a while before turning around and staring me straight in the eyes again. "You didn't call me, boy. What on earth are you talking about? Do you mean over the phone?"
I was taken aback. Why was she lying to me, if she was lying? "Yes, over the phone. I called and you said you didn't know me, didn't know anyone by my name."
"Oh ... I remember now. For goodness sake, was that you, boy? You told me your name was Simmy."
I looked at her curiously. "No, Ma'am. I said my name was Jimmy. I said it quite plainly."
"I'm sorry," she replied, averting her eyes again. "I thought it was someone named Simmy and that he had a wrong number."
"All right, Mrs. Brown. I guess anyone can make a mistake."
She flashed me an odd look. "What did you mean by that?"
"Nothing. That is, I mean you thought I was someone named Simmy. It doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm here with you."
"Would you like to do it to me, Jimmy boy, on the bed ... naked?"
"Yes, Ma'am," I gulped, my pulse racing.
She removed her bra and panties swiftly and I gazed at the beautiful sight in front of me. It always thrilled me to see her naked. This time she looked even more beautiful than before. Her titties stuck straight out and seemed to be beckoning to me to caress them, to suck them, to love them. I let my gaze linger on them for a long time and then my eyes darted lower and saw the indentation of her round, little navel, the muscles of her tummy being slightly protruded, probably on purpose, because I suspected she knew this made her look more sexy to me. Her eyes, I saw as I glanced upward, were filled with that wonderful, wild lust-look of hers, a look I had never seen in any other person's eyes. My glance shot down to her cunt and I noticed she was standing with her legs spread apart to better allow me to glimpse its wet redness. I swallowed hard, my cock came up full tilt and fiercely hard, and I shoved down my pants and attempted to fuck her standing up.
She sighed and stood there, a look of wantonness on her lovely face, her tummy sticking out, her legs spread apart, and tried to help me insert my stiffened tube inside of her. It wouldn't go in and stay there, it kept slipping out and stabbing her-as I pumped frantically like a male dog-on the hip, the tummy, the hair. I poked her everywhere but inside the cunt. Again she took me in her hand and tried desperately to get it up inside of her, but because I was so frantic and wild with my stroke nothing good happened. She then turned me around and fell over on her back to the bed as I came crashing down on top of her firm warm flesh. I pumped at her cunt, this time hitting it squarely, and felt my tube sink all the way to the hilt. I then worked her like a maddened sailor who has been six months at sea.
"Fuck me, baby boy," she murmured softly. "Fuck your mama."
It never occurred to me that she was uttering words that gave her away-that she, too, had a great need, that her need was to have a child. I was too young and too dumb to ever think of anything of this nature. I was also too caught up in the thrill of sexual gratification to understand anything other than blowing off inside of this marvelously hot woman-this woman I had accidentally seen admiring her own titties in a mirror one day.
"Fuck me, boy," she grunted, her breathing very fast now. "Fuck the piss out of me, boy."
As hot as I was, this caused me to half grin. It seemed such a wild and wanton and yet funny way of putting it. "Yes, Mrs. Brown!" I cried. "Yes, of course I'll fuck the piss out of you. I'll fuck your cunt till the piss covers the bed." It was quite a long statement to make considering I was breathing hard, frantically hard. I knew I wasn't going to be able to hold back much longer; my cock was like a stick of dynamite with the fire of the lighted fuse having one inch to go to explosion time.
"Fuck the piss out of me, boy, goddamn you!" she screamed at the top of her voice and beginning to jerk her loins about on the bed underneath me in such a way that I had difficulty keeping up with her hectic movements. I still kept on poking the hardened tube into her cunt.
"Blow 'em, boy!" she screamed. "Give it to me, baby boy."
I increased my speed of movement and rammed the stiff piece into her as far as it would go. It was then that she began to beat my back with her fists, keeping up the unusual act, the punishment, I could almost say, until I hit the peak of my passion and emptied my love into her body, all of it, every last thick drop of it.
I kept on pumping her and she kept on thumping the small of my back with her fist in a rapid staccato. I blew again.
And again ... and again.
IX
Both Mrs. Brown and I took a nap after our hectic session because both of us were tired and spent. I awakened first and raising myself on one elbow, glanced down at her sleeping face. I kissed her cheek and caught the scent of her cologne-and for some reason this made me feel happy. At last, I had someone who cared about me. Now I wasn't just a parentless boy who had to be looked after and fed and sent to school. ... and put up with. Now I was a person, because someone was fond of me. Not that Grandma was mean to me-I don't mean that; it was just that I knew in my heart that she didn't care much about me, and never had. She, I had once been told, had been bitterly opposed to the marriage of my father and mother and I suppose some of that bitterness carried over and spilled out onto me, even though she might not have realized it.
I pushed the sheet down a little so I could see Mrs. Brown's breasts. They were exposed to my view now and as I looked at them critically, I felt myself growing between the legs. Hastily, I covered her titties with the sheet because I was too tired to indulge in sex at the moment. It would have to wait a while. I knew I would be back on top of her just as soon as I was rested, but right now wasn't the time. Just the same...
I wanted to run my hands over her wonderful body. I managed to refrain from doing it because I knew it would waken her, and if she was awake she would very-likely want me to do it to her again, and, as I have said, I was too tired at the moment. You may think it funny that a fourteen-year-old kid can get tired of making love to a grown woman, but believe me it is possible.
It is also wonderful, may I add?
I got up from the bed gingerly and put on my pants and shirt and left the room in search of a drink of water. I didn't go to the bathroom because I knew there was no drinking glass there. Instead, I went to the front room and when I had pushed open the door and turned on a light I nearly cried out from fright. Immediately, however, I calmed down and looked at the sleeping man on the sofa. It was Ralph; he looked and smelled as if he were drunk again. He lay there snoring and as I looked at him more closely I saw that his pants were unzipped, exposing his dink.
The strangest feeling came over me and I didn't understand it. And then I knew what it was. I wanted to touch him there. I don't think I wanted to do anything more than that-I just wanted to touch his John to see if it felt like my own did.
I got out of the room fast, afraid that something was really wrong with me, that I might be, for the moment, turning into one of those funny guys who act like girls. I found the kitchen and got a glass of water, drank it and returned, shaking somewhat, to the front room.
Ralph was awake, sitting up, and had an enormous hard-on. I tried not to stare at him but something impelled me to do so.
"Hello, kid," he said, leering at me and speaking very thickly. "What you looking at, kid-my cock?" "No ... sir," I said. "I mean, no, Ralph." "The hell you aren't. You're looking at my cock. I even saw you start to wet your lips. You one of those boys, kid?"
"No," I said firmly, "I'm not. I was looking at your ... cock, yes, but you're sitting there exposing it, so how could I help but look at it? Besides, there's nothing wrong with looking at a guy's cock."
He rubbed his eyes. "Wouldn't like to go down on me, would you, kid?"
I moved back away from him. "No," I said shortly.
He waved his hand about awkwardly. "Okay, okay, don't look so goddamned shocked. You'll have that sort of offer made to you a lot of times before you die, kid."
"I'm going back to the bedroom, Ralph," I said nervously.
"Wait a minute, kid," he said. "You've already had your fun with her; it's my turn now. You stay here while I go in and crawl on top of her. How about it?"
I wet my lips. "Why don't you go home?" I said nervously. "Mrs. Brown and I ... we..."
"Piss on you and Mrs. Brown. I knew her before you did, kid. Besides, I'm a man and you're just a punk. Don't tell me what to do. I might get mad and knock your goddamned head off."
I was scared of him now; he looked mean at the moment. "I didn't mean to make you mad, Ralph," I said hastily.
He grinned. "Come over here and suck Ralph's cock, kid."
I drew back quickly again. "No," I said. "I don't do things like that. You ought to know that by now."
He seemed more sober now and shrugged good-naturedly. "Okay, kid, you don't want to suck Ralph off, you don't have to. I'll go in and let Fern do it."
"No!" I cried, almost shouting it. "Mrs. Brown is my..."
He was on his feet now. "She's your what, kid?" he asked, his eyes getting smaller.
"She's my ... girl!" I cried. "You stay away from her."
He threw back his head and laughed crazily. "Hell, kid, she's not your girl. She's not anyone's girl-never will be. Mrs. Brown, as you call her, is her own woman. She never belonged to any man-never could, never will. Don't kid yourself she's your girl. She just-likes that stiff, young prick of yours.'
"So what if she does? I got one and she-"
"Kid," he said, "calm down a bit. Don't look so goddamned upset. After all, she's only another female.
World's full of 'em."
"Not for me. Mrs. Brown ... I love her. I just love her like..."
"Nuts," he said, interrupting me. "You got a lot to learn, kid-a hell of a lot to learn."
"I don't care if I do have a lot to learn," I cried back at him. "I love her and she's the most wonderful woman in the world."
He made a sneering sound with his mouth and taking his John in his hand, began to rub it a bit. Looking over at me oddly, he asked, "Sure you won't try sucking me off, kid? You might like it."
"No thanks!" I cried, getting mad at him. "What do you think I am?"
He laughed and shrugged. "Hell, I don't know what you are, kid. Just trying to find out. First place, what does a young kid like you want with screwing around with a woman old enough of be your mother and then some?"
"I love her, damn it!" I shouted at him, furious now.
"You ought to be out with some kid your own age, trying to get your pecker in her. You shouldn't be fooling around with a woman like Fern Brown. That woman will kill you, kid, believe me. She'll take all the juice you can squirt into her and forty tons more. You'll never be able to satisfy her-not that woman. Such women as Fern Brown are never satisfied by anything except for the moment."
"Well, who is?" I hollered at him. "Who is satisfied except for the moment?"
He glanced at me and replaced his John in his pants at the same time, zipping himself up, much to my relief. "Philosophy I'm getting ... and from a kid, too. How about that. Tell you what, kid-keep your philosophy till you grow up and dry off behind the ears. I don't want to hear it now."
I said nothing because there seemed to be nothing to say.
"What's going on out here?" Mrs. Brown said from the bedroom doorway. "Why are you two shouting at one another?"
I whirled about. "He's been trying to get me to ... suck him off," I told her, not realizing that I was squealing on someone. Or perhaps I did realize it and wanted to get back at him for his attempt to ridicule me by asking me to commit the act with him.
Mrs. Brown surprised me because I had thought she would be angry at finding this out about Ralph. She wasn't in the least angry. Pulling her robe about her body, she stepped all the way into the room and looked at me curiously.
"What if he did want you to suck him off, boy? What about it? You might try it and like it. Who knows?"
I drew in my breath. "You don't mean that, Mrs. Brown," I cried.
She shrugged. "I'm not saying you ought to do it, boy. I'm saying don't get all shook up about anything that's sexual. That's all."
I let my breath out in a rush. "Oh..." I muttered. "I guess I misunderstood you, Mrs. Brown."
She waved her hand about carelessly. "That's all right, boy. Lots of things you probably don't quite understand ... about life."
"Fern," Ralph said, looking her up and down, "let's you and me teach the kid a few things, shall we?"
She regarded him dubiously. "Such as what, Ralph? What did you have in mind?"
"You know, don't you?" He looked at her strangely, I thought.
"Well ... " Mrs. Brown glanced uncertainly at me, pulled her robe up about her shoulders, knocked her long, black hair out of her eyes in that characteristic way she had, looked at me again and shook her head. "No ... not that, Ralph. I don't think so. I ... "
"I won't hurt him," Ralph said eagerly.
She turned and faced him. "Now what the hell do you mean by that crack? "
Ralph looked taken aback. "Nothing," he muttered. "I mean to say ... how do you know?-the kid might like being ... bunged."
"No thanks!" I cried. "Not me. I don't go for any of that stuff."
Mrs. Brown came to me, put her arm over my shoulders and pulled me close to her. "All right, boy. Don't get upset. I won't let him do things to you that you don't go for." She sighed as she spoke.
"Mrs. Brown," I said, almost choking on the words, "Would you ... like to ... watch him ... do that ... to ... me? Is ... that. . . it?"
She stiffened and withdrew her arm from my shoulders. "Certainly not, Jimmy boy. What a terrible thing for you to
M say.
"Mrs. Brown," I said, "I'm all alone at my house now. My grandma has gone to the hospital for a few days. Will you come there with me right now?"
She laughed oddly. "What's the matter, boy? Does Ralph frighten you so much you want to get away from him?"
It hit me hard. What she had just said was the truth. Ralph did scare me. He scared the hell out of me. He was a big, powerful guy and if he really wanted to bung me-that was his word, but I knew what he meant-there wasn't anything I could do about it except fight like hell. I knew in my heart that I couldn't fight him off for long, he was far stronger than I. Another thing. I was afraid I would be afraid of him in front of her. This I didn't want her to see.
"Fern," Ralph said, his voice slightly thick again, "let me teach the kid a few tricks. You watch me do it. You and me. Well have a ball with him. How about it, baby?"
Mrs. Brown looked first at him and then at me. "What do you say to that, boy?" she asked. "You willing to let him teach you a few ... tricks while I watch?"
I hated to refuse her anything, but I did. I shook my head. "I don't want to do anything with him, Ma'am. He's a ... man ... and so'm I."
Ralph thought this very funny, for he laughed loudly and for a long time. "Some man you are," he sneered. "You ain't even got your ball growth yet."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Ralph," Mrs. Brown said dryly.
"Mrs. Brown," I cried, ignoring what both of them had said, "will you come to my house with me ... now?"
She shook her head. "No, boy, I couldn't do that. It would be too risky for me. I hope you understand that."
"All right," I said, my heart sinking. "Guess I'll go home and be alone, then."
"Say ... you aren't feeling sorry for yourself, are you?" she asked sharply.
"No, Ma'am."
"If I thought you were..." but she didn't finish the remark.
Ralph did a startling thing then. He removed his trousers and threw them down on the sofa. Then he pulled off his briefs and sat down on a sturdy-looking chair. He winked at Mrs. Brown and I saw her bosom heave and heard her sigh loudly.
"Is that what you want to do, Ralph?" she asked him. "Yes," he said, his eyes filled with lust. Mrs. Brown bit her lips and turned to me. "Go and sit down on Ralph's prick, boy. He wants you to." "What?" I almost shouted.
She took my arm and led me across the room to where Ralph sat on the chair regarding me lustfully. "Ralphy wants his prick up your ass-hole, boy. We must let him have what he wants, now mustn't we?"
"What for?" I bristled.
She smiled at me oddly. "Because ... boy ... he knows about you and me."
"So what if he does?" I asked hotly.
"He can ... do both of us an awful lot of harm, boy," she said firmly. "Come now. Don't hang back. It won't hurt you much. You may even like it. Lots of young boys learn to love it. How do you know until you try?" This last was uttered fiercely and into my ear.
I was on the verge of tears. Hearing her talk this way made the whole world seem to be tumbling down around me. Nevertheless, I let her turn me around; heard her tell me to take down my pants, which I did; let her guide me down, even as Ralph grabbed me roughly and pulled me down on his hard-on. I sat down gingerly, fearfully, and immediately Ralph pushed me up a bit.
"Wet me up good," he said to Mrs. Brown.
I saw her drop to her knees and take his cock in her mouth and get him wet with her spittle. Then she moved away, remaining on her knees nearly, and he pulled me down until I felt his hard prick stabbing at my ass-hole.
"I don't want to do this!" I cried desperately.
"Be quiet, kid," Ralph said. "I won't hurt you. You'll enjoy it once you get over your fear."
"He's right, boy," Mrs. Brown said, her breathing very rapid now. "Sit down and remain quiet. Enjoy it. All of us must enjoy it."
"I ain't no girl," I sobbed.
"No one says you are, boy," she told me. "Take his prick into you and love it. That's all you have to do. Then I'll show you what I'm going to do."
I really had no choice in the matter from that point on, even if I had had one up to that moment. With her pushing and him pulling on me, I sank down over his stiff tube and felt it shooting up into my ass. I winced as he drove it home and nearly hollered from the pain, but the pain left immediately and, wonder of wonders, I became terrifically hard, myself.
"Now, boy," Mrs. Brown said, "you'll see what the trick really is."
"What ... are ... you gonna do to me?" I asked fearfully.
"While Ralphy fucks your ass, I'm sucking you off, boy. Think you'll like the double-take?"
"Yes, Ma'am," I said breathlessly. "Please get on with it."
There followed the most hectic fifteen minutes of my young life. Ralph had his powerful arms about my waist and was squeezing the life out of me, it seemed, but after a few moments, I didn't really mind. It was just as they had said it would be.
I began to enjoy it tremendously.
Funny.
I guess a guy never knows what he might go for until he tries it. Ralph's cock was buried inside of me as far as it would go; and he kept on squeezing my body and trying to get me to move up and down, I found out after a few moments. I was supposed to move on him even as he moved under me and this was, of course, so that the friction would make him blow off in me while Mrs. Brown used her mouth on my pecker.
What a wonderful, crazy thing it was!
I felt Ralph getting more and more excited, so I began to pump up and down on him and each time I did he would cry out and stiffen his body almost to the point of standing up, which would have been a disaster, for it would have dumped me to the floor.
Mrs. Brown was bobbing her head up and down on my prick, her wet, warm mouth taking all of me in as she sucked.
I felt Ralph stiffening fearfully then and a moment later I knew what it was like to receive the hot male fluid into my body. He squirted the stuff into me at a wild rate, almost until I thought he would never stop, and all the while Mrs. Brown continued with her reckless sucking.
Of course it happened-it happened, and happened, wonderfully, beautifully!
While Ralph blew in me, I went off in her mouth, nearly choking her, so great was the amount of my hot, thick sap.
The two adults seemed to go almost crazy then for a while. They babbled like idiots-but satisfied idiots, I hasten to add.
X
The next day when I woke up in bed, I was terribly sore and stiff and definitely ashamed of myself. I got up and took a shower and went downstairs. Old Mrs. Parks was in the kitchen, to my surprise. I nodded to her and went to the refrigerator and got a carton of milk from it. I poUred milk cn a dish of cereal, sat down and ate it. Mrs. Parks kept looking at me oddly but didn't say anything until I had finished and was about to leave the room.
"Going to see your grandmother now, James?"
"She didn't tell me to come and see her. Besides, I don't know which hospital she's in."
"St. Mary's," Mrs. Parks said. "You can go any time after one o'clock. Your grandmother's in room four-fourteen."
"All right, Mrs. Parks. Are you planning on being here all day?"
She shook her gray head. "No. I'm leaving in about ten minutes and won't be back until your grandmother comes home."
I was almost out of the kitchen. I stopped, turned about and faced her. "When will she be coming home, Mrs. Parks, do you know?"
The old lady averted her eyes. "I couldn't say. Her doctor is Phelps-L. D. Phelps. You can call him and ask him whatever you want to."
"All right," I said, "I'll do that."
"Good-bye, James," she said quietly.
I glanced at her quickly. "Oh ... Good-bye, Mrs. Parks."
"Just a minute, James," she said. "I nearly forgot to give you the money your grandmother left with me." She picked up a purse from the cupboard and withdrew some bills from it. "Here it is, James-fifty dollars. You are to buy your meals at Quinn's, the restaurant on Fourth Street. Your grandmother said so."
I took the money from her hand. "All right, Mrs. Parks. I'll be all right. I know where Quinn's is located."
"Go and see Grandma now, won't you?"
"Sure. Good-bye again."
"Good-bye, James."
She started to leave the kitchen, walking past me but not looking at me. "Good-bye," I repeated.
She stopped. "Your grandma is a very sick woman, James."
I nodded solemnly. "I know. She has arthritis."
"More than that. She's a cardiac case."
"Oh ... what does that mean, Mrs. Parks?"
"Heart trouble. It means she could die at any minute." Mrs. Parks surveyed me coldly. "Means you'd be left all alone in the world, James."
"Yes," I replied. "I guess so." I looked down at the floor.
"Look at me, James," she commanded.
I looked up at her, meeting her gaze squarely.
"Your grandma asked me to take you into my home and care for you if she died, James."
I coughed uneasily. "Oh..." was all I said.
"I told your grandma I wasn't prepared to take care of a kid like you. I hope you understand. It's not that I dislike you, James."
I was becoming very uncomfortable. "Yes, Mrs. Parks."
"I told your grandma you'd have to be taken care of by the courts. I can't do it. I can't stand having young boys around me. They annoy me terribly."
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "Sure, I guess I understand what you mean, Mrs. Parks."
She gave me a very cold look. "I'm not trying to be unkind when your grandma is so ill, you understand. It's just that I don't like young boys."
"Sure, Mrs. Parks," I mumbled. "Guess it's okay."
"When your grandma dies, you tell the doctor that you are to see the judge or a lawyer or somebody. Dr. Phelps will tell you who to see, what to do."
"You're sure Grandma is going to die? " I asked.
She nodded. "Cardiac case. She's in failure."
"That mean she's dying?"
"Yes. Oh ... she might live for quite a spell. Don't get all upset, James. Who knows, your grandma might live a year or more."
"I hope so," I murmured.
"Good-bye, James. Remember to go and see Grandma."
"Good-bye again, Mrs. Parks. I'll go and see her today."
She gave me another cold look and walked to the front door, picked up her hat, put it on in front of the mirror, and stepped outside. She closed the door after her without speaking another word to me. I stood there and stared at the door for a long time, feeling strange. I had the feeling that Mrs. Parks enjoyed telling me that Grandma was dying.
I went to see Grandma at the hospital, but she was sleeping, so I couldn't speak to her or stay long. The nurse told me she was okay and there was no need for me to hang around. She said the hospital would call me if Grandma should get worse suddenly. I left the place and walked all the way home. I felt odd but not sad. Grandma had never been the sort to care much about me and consequently I didn't have any feeling about her, really-not the sort of feelings a boy probably ought to have for his only living relative. I had always wanted to love Grandma, and to be loved by her, but from the first moment I had lived in her house she had rejected me. She had told me it was her duty to look out for me, but that I was to consider it as such and nothing more.
Grandma died four days later.
I returned home from the funeral. There were a great many ladies at the house, straightening up things, dusting off tables, doing all sorts of things that I never saw Grandma do.
And then, one by one, they left and I was alone in the house. Grandma's lawyer had said he would drop in on me to talk to me in a couple of weeks. A couple, of weeks? What did he think I was going to do for money for the next two weeks. I had spent over half of the fifty dollars Mrs. Parks had given to me from Grandma.
I walked about the empty house, not knowing what or how I felt, and not caring too much.
It was three days later that my thoughts returned to Mrs. Brown with enough force to cause me to pant a little and want to possess her again. I waited until after dark and walked quickly lo her place; and crouched down beneath the bedroom window. There was a light on in the room and, as usual, the shade was up about one inch from the bottom. I peered under it and saw Mrs. Brown, her titties bare, but everything else fully covered, standing in front of the mirror again. She liked to look at her own titties, I knew; but the way she was doing it now struck me as being extremely hot. She was petting her titties and wetting her lips at the same time, just as if she were thinking about ... well, me doing the petting instead of herself.
"Mrs. Brown," I called softly. "It's me, Jimmy, at the window."
She stiffened and turned and faced the window, grabbing up a robe all at the same time. She slipped the robe over her shoulders lo hide her titties and then she walked slowly to the window. She lifted the shade a little and looked at me.
A wonderful smile came over her face. I saw her white, even teeth, her pretty pinkish tongue, her full, red lips that seemed,, in my imagination at least, to be begging silently for the chance to encircle my cock.
She appeared to swallow hard, but still she smiled, or at least the smile returned after a brief moment's loss of it. "Jimmy," she said softly, "you poor boy. Come in ... quickly."
I jumped into the room and immediately she put her arms about me, kissing me on the eyes, the lips, the nose, the neck, everywhere about the face. Then she led me to the bed and did a surprising thing, even for Mrs. Brown. She pulled open her robe, and, taking one tit in her hand, told me to open my mouth, which I did, naturally. She placed her tit in my mouth, told me to close my eyes and suck.
I did this, also.
For a long time.
"Doesn't it make you feel more comfortable, dear?" she asked, breaking the silence between us at length.
I stopped sucking her tit and removed it from my mouth. I sat up and took a deep breath and looked at her shining, black eyes. "Yes, Ma'am, I have to admit it. It does make me feel better, more comfortable. Why do you suppose that is?"
She patted my face and kissed my mouth but not passionately. "Everybody needs mothering, dear. Especially boys in ... grief."
I shook my head. "Guess you must have misunderstood me, Ma'am," I said, knowing I wasn't making much sense, for I hadn't said much of anything to her yet, so she had had no chance to misunderstand me. "I'm not in grief. I'm sorry for my grandma, but I'm not grieving for her. That is, not very much. I ... er ... I ... well, I don't know how to say it. I guess the thing that bothers me the most is that the courts are going to send me away somewhere after a while and that means I'll never see you again."
She laughed softly. "Don't you worry about what the courts will do to you, dear. My dead husband was a man of great influence in this town. I have some of that influence, and also some of my own of a kind that you would better understand if I were to tell you, which I will not, so ... well, what I'm trying to say is no judge or court will do anything to or with you without privately consulting with me first. I had put a bug in all three judges' ears. You see, there are three judges of probate in this county and I have enough on all three to ... oh, dear me ... what am I saying? ... I shouldn't be telling you this, boy." Mrs. Brown sat up on the bed then and pulled her robe about her titties, shutting off my view of them much to my disappointment. "It is sufficient for you to know this, Jimmy boy. I'm positive that you have nothing to worry about. I'm almost positive that a certain judge is ... er ... going to consider putting you in my ... er ... custody ... with the idea of being, later, that I might adopt you. There's a new law in this state that allows suitable single women of a certain age to adopt youngsters, as the law sometimes calls them." Mrs. Brown reached down and felt of my cock, which immediately got harder than ever, it having first gotten hard the moment I had seen her bare breasts through the window. "Dear boy," she went on, "you're certainly no youngster. You're the most adult male I've ever seen ... in certain ways. However, the judge should never be allowed to know anything about ... us ... so we will have to be exceedingly careful for the next few weeks and months."
That was quite a long speech for Mrs. Brown, and I thought she was never going to stop. "Ma'am," I said, "I love you very much. Do you know that? You're the only person in the world that I've ever really loved. The only one. Is it all right for me to tell you this?"
She put her arm about my neck and drew me down to her bosom. "Oh, you poor boy ... I'm so happy you like me.'"
I managed to get my face free of her titties long enough to speak. "Ma'am, I love you. I don't just like you. I really love you. I want to be with you the rest of my life."
She patted me on the head. "Sure you do, boy. I understand. You and me together. Believe me, boy, we can have some wild old sex sessions, the two of us. Just as long as we keep it quiet." Suddenly she changed her tone of voice. "That damned Ralph. He worries me. I've got to figure a way of shutting him up for good. Maybe, just maybe, I'll send him to Europe on a nice, long five-year vacation..."
"Mrs. Brown," I interjected bluntly and excitedly, "would you suck me off?"
We were" in the front room sometime later and she had given me my first drink of liquor, cautioning me to drink it slowly and carefully and telling me the reason she was doing this was because she damned well wanted to and because now there was no one at home to smell my breath, which, according to Mrs. Brown, would have gotten her into deep trouble with the law. I didn't know much about this, and, as a matter-of-fact, I didn't care anything at all about the taste of the stuff she gave me to drink, but to please my new "mother," I drank it down slowly and carefully only to discover that it made me light-headed and very, very hot. I felt like taking out my cock and sticking it in anything that was wet and warm.
"Mrs. Brown," I said, having set my glass down empty several minutes before, "does that liquor stuff always make a guy hot?"
"Sometimes ... a little of it does. A lot of it does just the opposite. That is, it does to a full-grown man, I don't know about boys."
"You just sucked me off a while ago and I'm ready to blow again."
She laughed. "Yes, I know. I want you to be that way, dear. I want you ready to go off at any moment. Think of the fun we can have if you're hot all of the time instead of just some of the time."
"You mean you're going to keep on giving me liquor so III be ready to fuck all the time, Mrs. Brown?"
She laughed softly, as we sat together on the sofa, then reached over and stroked my thigh suggestively. "I love hearing you speak frankly like that, boy. Say some more words of that type to me. Say anything you want to ... such words make me very hot. In fact, my cunt is dripping this very instant."
A thrill ran up my spine. "Your cunt is dripping, Mrs. Brown? Gee, what a waste. Wouldn't you like me to lick it up for you, the cunt juice, I mean?"
"The alcohol," she murmured, "is working even better than I had thought it would, my dear."
"Pull up your skirt and let me lick you, honey," I said, the liquor giving me courage.
Mrs. Brown laughed loudly. "Listen to my boy ... already he's calling me honey. Next thing I know you ll be referring to me as that hot, old broad."
"You are a hot, old broad," I said, grinning.
"I'm only thirty-five, dear," she said, smiling. "That's not very old."
"How many years did you subtract from your age, She laughed again. "My, hear him talk now that he has a bit of booze in him." She kissed the side of my face quickly. "Gee, that's one of your words ... I like to hear you talk this way. Say something else to me."
I reached over and started to lift her skirt. "I don't want to just talk, baby," I said. "I want to lick that dripping cunt of yours."
"Whew," she said, fanning herself playfully with her hand. "What hot talk. Would you be so kind as to stick your tongue up my ass-hole, too, I mean while you're down around my cunt with your mouth?"
"I'd like to stick my tongue up your ass-hole, baby. I'll do any goddamn thing you want, including sucking Ralph off if you like ... I mean if he were here."
She seemed to stiffen a lot at this, and I figured I had gone too far with my adult act, for that was all it had been, I knew. Liquor or no liquor, I wasn't about to suck any drunk, not now or any other time-I had just said this to shock the hell out of her, but now I could see I had shocked her, probably, the wrong way and too much.
"I would like it better if you didn't entertain any such thoughts, boy," she told me, her voice sounding odd.
I decided I had done enough acting for the moment. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Brown," I said contritely. "I didn't mean any of that stuff. I was just smarting off. I'm kind of a smart-alec sometimes."
"Don't ever let me hear any of that homosexual talk. I despise such remarks, such people."
I knew what a homosexual was, of course, having picked up the word somewhere since I had met her. "I'm not a homosexual," I said hotly. "I just said that for the hell of it."
"Very well, boy," she said, her tone sounding odd again.
"After all," I said, pursuing the subject in spite of the fact that I was afraid now that she might be angry. "You were the one who wanted me to sit on Ralph's lap that time. Have you forgotten that I did that, that he stuck his cock up my ass-hole and you ... you went down on me while he fucked me?" I discovered now that I was shaking all over.
"Boy," she said, grasping my hand and holding it firmly, "I do many things when I'm caught up in the throes of passion, but I don't necessarily approve of those things later. I'm sorry I spoke harshly to you because you playfully made a homosexual remark. I'm afraid I have a rotten disposition sometimes. Will you forgive me?"
I ceased my shaking almost immediately. "Sure, Mrs. Brown," I told her, my whole world seeming to brighten up considerably. "Sure, I forgive you, and I don't care what you do or say to me ... except when I get mad, but I'm going to try very hard not ever to get mad at you."
"Oh, dear me," she said, sighing. "How we do hop around from one subject to another. Do you know I've quite forgotten what it was you were going to do to me?"
"I was going to suck your cunt, Mrs. Brown, but I guess it's too late now. All your juice will be dried up by now."
"I have plenty more of it, boy, if you want to try."
"I guess I'll wait a while," I said. "I'd rather just talk to you now ... for a little while, I mean. Does liquor always make a guy kind of sick to his stomach after a while?"
She got a look of concern on her beautiful face immediately. "Oh no, boy, don't tell me you're feeling sick to your stomach?"
"I'm kind of ... queasy all of a sudden."
"Then go to the bathroom quickly and stick your finger down your throat. Hurry up now. You know where the bathroom is."
"Yes, Ma'am," I said, and ran to the bathroom.
When I returned some ten minutes later, Mrs. Brown was undressed completely and was sitting on the carpet playing cards all by herself. I walked over to her and glanced down at her big titties and grinned. "I'm okay now, Mrs. Brown. I got rid of all of it,"
"Very well," she said, "but stay away from me. You'll smell for a time. Did you gargle after throwing up?"
"No, Ma'am, I never thought of it."
She shuffled the cards, did something else to them-I didn't know what-and started to toss them down one at a time rapidly. "Go and do it, boy," she said. "Wash your mouth thoroughly."
"All right, Mrs. Brown. I'm sorry I forgot to do it."
I came back after another ten minutes to find Mrs. Brown lying on the sofa, the cards having been put away. At least I couldn't see them anywhere.
"I'm all right now, Mrs. Brown. I gargled and gargled and ... well, I'm okay now."
"Come here, boy," she said without looking at me. I walked close to her and she sniffed. "All right," she said. "You seem to be clean. I'm a nut about cleanliness, as you'll discover after you've lived with me for a time."
I sat down beside her and placed my hand on her titty. "Am I really going to live with you all of the time, Mrs. Brown?"
She lifted herself up on one elbow and studied my eyes. "Don't you know that, kid?"
Her titties hung down now and I wanted very much to run my tongue over them and over her entire body, in fact. "I guess ... I ... do ... Mrs. Brown."
She smiled strangely. "All right, boy. You tell me. What do I, a mature, full-grown woman want with a kid? Why do I want you around the house all the time?"
"Because..."
"Come on," she said, looking me straight in the eye. "That's no answer. Why do I want you here?"
"Because you like to have me fuck you," I ventured.
"Sure," she said, grinning. "But I'm a pretty woman. I can get lots of men to fuck me. Why do I need you, boy? Tell me. Give me your opinion."
I gathered up all of my courage, the temporary courage of the liquor having completely deserted me now, and tried to answer her. "You want me around, Mrs. Brown, because I have a long, slim prick, because I'm willing to do anything to or with you."
"That's pretty good, boy, but what else is there to it? Do you know?"
"I ... guess ... not, Mrs. Brown. Why else do you want me here?"
She smiled strangely again and sucked in her breath. "Because I enjoy wrecking people's lives, boy. Do you understand that?"
"No, Ma'am," I said, my voice faltering. "What do you mean:
"You'll find out, boy ... later, much later, after yours has been-" She stopped, grinned at me, and taking my cock in her hand, began to vigorously jack me off into her mouth.
XI
I was home in bed again and this time I knew I was alone. There wasn't any grandma at the hospital, no Mrs. Parks to come in and clean the place, no one at all. Even Mrs. Brown seemed like someone a long way off now. Her remark about wrecking people's lives had upset me more than I had realized at the time. I was smart enough to know that she was being honest when she told me this. I was also smart enough to realize that she couldn't wreck my life in any way, unless I allowed her to do it, and this I was determined not to do. Sure I would go and love with her make love to her every day and let her do whatever she wanted to do to me, sexually or otherwise. Why not? I liked what she did to me, usually. Mrs. Brown, despite her peculiarities, was an okay person; and even though she had said she liked to wreck lives, it didn't necessarily follow that she was always successful at it. Maybe I, later on, would do a bit of wrecking myself. We would wait and see.
I wasn't nearly as much afraid of her as I had been a few weeks before.
Besides, I liked being around her.
Any guy in his right mind would like to be around a hot woman like Mrs. Brown, wouldn't he?
I had another thought. How could a woman who liked to wreck people's lives, as she had said she did, also be the kind of woman who would tell a fourteen-year-old boy to be considerate of his grandmother?
"Mrs. Brown," I muttered, "I think you were lying to me when you said you like to wreck people's lives. I don't know why you said it, but I don't believe it."
I went to sleep finally but dreamed about the matter, and when I woke up in the morning, I realized I was upset about the thing she had said to me. I climbed out of bed, got dressed and ran all the way to Mrs. Brown's house. I didn't go to her bedroom window because it was daytime and someone might see me there. Instead, I went straight to the front door and rang the bell. She didn't come to the door, so I kept on ringing it until she did, finally. She looked sleepy and irritable.
"What is it?" she asked, drawing her robe about her neck. "What do you want, boy?"
"Let me in. I want to talk to you."
"Damn it. How many times have I warned you about not coming here in the daylight?"
"Lots of times," I said easily. "This time I didn't go to the bedroom window, so if someone sees me here on the porch, what about it? No one will think anything of a boy on your porch."
"I can't ... let you in, boy."
"Yes, you can, Mrs. Brown," I said firmly.
She swore softly but unhooked the safety chain from the door and opened it all the way. "Step inside," she said. "Close the door." I did so. "Now," she went on, "what is it you want to talk about?"
I saw that her titties were partially revealed and they looked exciting, as usual, so I forgot what I had wanted to talk to her about. All I wanted now was to fondle those same titties and to have fun with her.
"I'm hot," I told her bluntly. "I'm awful hot this morning."
She looked at me critically, made a face that denoted something not akin to displeasure (as they say in some of the old books I have read) and went immediately to the phone. I saw her dial a number and heard her speak into the phone a moment later.
"Ralph," she said. "This is Fern. Come over right away." Evidently Ralph had other plans, for I could hear him saying something that sounded like he was rejecting the idea, but she broke in on him. "You'd better come over, Ralph, and hurry up about it." Mrs. Brown slammed the phone down hard.
"Why did you call him, Ma'am?" I asked. "I didn't come here to ... see him. I-"
"You'll know soon enough, boy," she said harshly. "I want to find out something about you before we go any further."
I didn't know what she meant by that. It made no sense to me at the moment, but I merely shrugged because there were, I had learned, all sorts of little things about Mrs. Brown's personality that seemed to make little or no sense-her getting all shook up about my being in the room filled with paintings, for example. She had never explained this to me and I had a feeling she never would. Mrs. Brown had certain things she kept bottled up inside of her, I suspected, and now as I had this thought, I wondered if this business of saying she liked to wreck people's lives hadn't been a sort of mental punishment for me, though why she would punish me in that way, and for what reason, I couldn't imagine. Perhaps this was another of her peculiarities: she liked to punish people who liked her. Perhaps she-
"Hey," she said in my ear. "You look like you're lost in space. What are you thinking about so intensely?"
"I'm thinking about the reason you called Ralph, why you asked him to come over. I'm not sure I like that."
Her black eyes got larger. "Listen to the kid, will you? He's not sure he-likes it. How about that. How old are you now, boy?"
"Almost fifteen." "Hmm," was all she said.
I was silent for a moment. Then: "Mrs. Brown, you told Ralph to come here because you want to find out if I'll suck a prick. Ain't that the truth?"
She laughed and pulled her robe about her neck. "You might put it that way, boy. I like to know what sort of package I'm getting. I ... er ... I don't think you're entirely right, though. What I am interested in is something a bit different."
I went to her and put my arm about her waist and buried my face between her breasts momentarily, but she pushed me away and held me at arm's length, looking into my eyes with those fierce, black ones of hers.
"Boy," she said, "I don't really care if you suck a prick. That's not my concern. That is, it wouldn't be unless that was all you wanted to do, sexually. Lots of men do it and still remain able to have normal relations with women. Did you know that?"
"Ma'am," I blurted. "I don't know nothing about it. Nothing at all."
"The reason I asked Ralph over is to find out if you can carry out my orders. I like to be obeyed, boy. If I'm going to adopt you and support you from now on, I want to know if you're willing and able to do as I say. Do you understand me?"
"I've told you lots of times that I'll do anything you want me to, Mrs. Brown. Gee, you ought to know that by now.
"I see," she said, letting go of me but still staring me straight in the eyes. "Will you suck a cock if I command you to?"
I gulped. "But you wouldn't do a crazy thing like that, Mrs. Brown."
"How do you know I wouldn't, boy? I've already warned you, haven't I?"
"Warned me about what, Mrs. Brown?"
"I've told you I like to wreck people. How do you know I'm not trying to wreck you right now?"
"Maybe you are, but I don't believe it." I swallowed hard. "You're too nice a woman to do ... anything that was mean ... to me ... I know you are ... I-"
"Bosh. You don't know anything about me except that I'm a hot woman with an eye and lust for a young boy, a young boy all caught up in the passion of hot pants and wanting to squirt his jizz all over the place."
She had such a wild and angry look in her eyes that I was taken aback. I moved away from her and toward the door, suddenly feeling very lonely indeed. There wasn't anyone now ... was there? This was the thought I had for just a fleeting second.
"Come back here, Jimmy boy," she said, her tone changing completely. "You'll have to learn that I'm not just one woman but two, or more. Perhaps several. One time I'm this way; another time I'm another way. Don't try to figure me out. I'm too complex; and don't ever let me get you down by me remarks or actions. I really do love you, Jimmy boy, and I promise you I'll give you the best life you ... have ever had. Only thing is. . . you have to obey me at all times. This I insist on. I'm funny that way. I can't live with another person in the household unless that other person is subservient to my wishes. It's unfair of me. I know that. But it is my way. I can't be any other way. You must be subservient to me, Jimmy."
"Yes, Ma'am," I replied, swallowing and wondering what that long word meant. "I'll be sub . . . whatever it is."
"Good," she said. "When Ralph arrives, you will suck him off." She eyed me owlishly. "Not because I want my fuck-baby to commit a homosexual act, but because I want to test your ability to be subservient."
I was silent for a long time. Then: "I guess I have to do what you tell me to," I told her hesitantly, my stomach writhing.
"Good for you, boy. That's the way I like to hear you talk. You might as well get used to sucking Ralph off. He-likes it, you see, and I wish you ... er ... to keep him satisfied."
"I thought you were going to send him to Europe, Mrs. Brown-to get rid of him."
She laughed. "Too expensive. Besides, I have found out that it will be ... better for me to be married, if I am to adopt you."
I couldn't believe my ears. "What did you say, Ma'am?" I asked shakenly.
"I'm going through the legal motions of marrying Ralph. He will be, to all intents and purposes, your father, or stepfather. I'm sorry, boy. It is necessary. He knows ... er ... far too much about. . . er ... me-and about you, too, I might add."
"Don't marry him," I said evenly.
"Oh ... why not, boy? "
"I ... I don't ... like him."
She shrugged. "Don't have to like him. I don't care a great deal about Ralph, either. He has his good points, but he's no great bargain. At any rate, I can depend on him, usually, to do as I say and no questions asked. I like that."
"That's very important to you, ain't it, Mrs. Brown, having everybody do just as you say?"
"You are perfectly correct, boy."
I was silent again and this time it lasted for a full minute or maybe longer. I walked to the door slowly and rested my hand on the knob of it. Turning about and facing her, I said, "Mrs. Brown?"
Her lips parted as she stared at me from across the room. I mw her brush her long, black hair away from her face-nervously, I thought. "Y ... yes, boy, what is it?"
"Mrs. Brown," I said firmly, "I don't guess I want to come and live with you after all."
"W ... what?" Her face went pale.
"I'm going home, Mrs. Brown, and I ain't gonna suck no cock, either, not to please you or nobody else. Good-bye, Mrs. Brown."
"Come back here!" she gasped. "You can't run out on me. You're just a poor, scared kid, with no parents, no one at all to look after you ... come back here, you-"
But I had already opened the door, stepped out onto the porch and closed the door. I walked home slowly. When I arrived, I stood in front of the house and looked back at the street, observing the cars that passed by. Who were ail of these people in the cars? Did they all have families, or were some of them alone as I was? I wondered about this for a time and then I shrugged and entered the house, leaving the front door standing ajar. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was still morning. I counted the money in my wallet and it wasn't much. Too bad. Maybe I could get a job somewhere for the time being. At least, it might be more fun that going to school, which I'd have to do very shortly, September being only two days off.
Somehow or other I got through the day and when darkness fell I found myself back at Mrs. Brown's bedroom window, peeking in and hoping to see her, but not wanting her to see me. She wasn't in the room though the lights were on and the bed was mussed. Just looking at her bed, strangely enough, caused me to get a rod-on. I sucked in air and grinned to myself, both at the same time. I knew I would never be able to get Mrs. Brown out of my hair-out of my heart, if you want to put it that way. She had gotten to be a part of me, a very large part of me. She was, in fact, the only family, the only person I had in this world. I was strongly tempted to jump through the window, seek her out, and tell her I would suck Ralph off if she wanted to test me.
But I couldn't do it. The thoughts of doing this repelled me. I wondered if I would always be repelled by it.
The door flew open and Mrs. Brown, accompanied by big, burly Ralph, entered the bedroom. I saw right away that both of them had been drinking. It was easy to tell this. The way they grinned and looked at one another; the way they lost their balance-that sort of thing. I was no expert on drinking, but I could recognize a high person when I saw one-or as in this case, two. As I stared at them through the window, Mrs. Brown lifted her dress and pressed her loins against Ralph's front.
'Take it out, baby," she begged him. "Take it out and let Mama see it."
I grinned nervously as Ralph lost his balance and would have fallen if Mrs. Brown hadn't grabbed him and steered him to the bed where he fell down on it and lay across it, his feet on the floor, his legs spread apart. I saw Mrs. Brown run her hands over his crotch region, saw her unzip his pants and bury her face there, kissing him repeatedly on the spot. My rod-on became almost unbearable, but I resolved to remain quiet and observe what she did to him. I was tremendously excited and though I didn't know what voyeurism was, I knew I was getting one hell of a blast out of seeing them together. The fact that she didn't know I was watching seemed to make the thing more pleasurable. I began to drip a bit but scarcely noticed this. I had plenty of sap-let it spray all over my pants, I didn't care. Not now.
Just the same, I removed my piece from my pants and let it touch the side of the building lightly. The house didn't feel very sexy, but it was all the contact I had at the moment-except, of course, for my hand, which Mrs. Brown had forbidden me to use.
I watched her now, my heart beating furiously, as she released the passion that was inside of her.
XII
She pulled Ralph's pants down to his knees and also his briefs. Then she ran her tongue up and down his bare thighs, pushing his legs farther apart as she dipped her head between them. Straightening up a moment later, she appeared to be staring at the window, so I ducked down a bit, even though I knew she couldn't see me, it being much too dark out of doors.
She returned to Ralph's crotch region and once again ran her tongue over him as he lay limply on the bed. I couldn't see his eyes, but I guessed they were closed and that he had passed out from too much liquor. At any rate, he didn't move even though she began to bite him quite hard on the thighs and, though I didn't actually see her do it, I suspected on the dink.
Watching her do all of this made my own passion almost unbearable, and several times I had to hold myself back from flinging my body through the window and rushing to her and spraying my juice into her face. Oh, how I would have liked to shoot it in her face then! But I held back. I knew if I jumped into the room the spell would be broken, but just what the spell consisted of I wasn't certain. I knew only that it was enjoyable watching her, that I was having the time of my young life, that I might never again know such a dramatic moment of passion.
Mrs. Brown had taken Ralph's piece in her mouth and was bobbing her head up and down on the tube as she held it rather daintily between thumb and forefinger at the base of it.
Seeing this one thing alone caused me to erupt against the side of the house. I pulled back from the house a little and tried to see if the stuff had gotten on my clothing, but it was too dark to see anything. I felt the front of my pants with my hand and it came away sticky. I raised my hand to my lips and licked.
Wonderful.
I liked the taste of myself.
I turned my attention back to Mrs. Brown and what she was doing to Ralph. She had taken his pants all the way off and now she was undressing herself and I observed the frantic way she ripped and tore at her own clothing in something like amazement-I had never known her to be so careless with her own clothing.
She danced about the room naked, and for all the world acted like some nutty woman, or maybe just a drunk woman. I looked at her eyes as best I could, and decided she might not be as drunk as she was crazy. Something like that.
The thought shook me. Was Mrs. Brown crazy?
I watched her closely now, but she didn't do anything crazy again, except to lift Ralph's legs upon the bed and turn him around so that he was lying with his head on a pillow, his feet at the foot of the bed. I saw her lift him with difficulty and remove his shirt and undershirt until he was as nude as she was.
I sprayed the side of the house again when I saw her run her tongue the entire length of his body, from his lips to his crotch, that is. She stopped there and actually began to chew lightly on his piece, which was only half-hard, so I knew he must be pretty drunk, because no guy could take that sort of treatment and not get hard unless he was kind of out some way.
More than before I wanted to leap into the room and scream at her to do these things to me instead of to Ralph, but something prevented me from doing so.
I was quivering all over now.
And so was Mrs. Brown, I noted.
Now she was chewing at his flesh all over his body, his thighs, his tummy, his chest region, even his arms. Mrs. Brown was acting like a hot cannibal, I told myself.
Once again she took his semi-hard piece into her mouth and sucked on it. It occurred to me now that Mrs. Brown had always been very much concerned with having sex through the mouth. Most of the sexual acts she had committed had been done that way instead of with the cunt. What a strange, wild woman she was. Didn't she ever do anything the way other people did? I was fast becoming convinced that she didn't, had never, and never would.
I saw her remove his piece from her mouth, heard her muttering at the unconscious man. "Goddamn," she muttered, "why aren't you as good as the kid?"
This made me feel very good, naturally, and once again I was almost on the verge of leaping into the room.
Mrs. Brown seemed to be staring at the window now. I ducked down low so she couldn't see me and stayed there for what must have been four or five minutes. Cautiously, I raised my head back up to the level of the window and peeked into the room. Mrs. Brown had turned her body around and was attempting to get Ralph's rather long nose inside of her cunt.
I giggled softly.
She glanced toward the window and I stopped giggling.
Resuming her operation, she moved her body up and down across his face in an obvious attempt to get blown off by using his nose in place of his John, which was, I saw, by now very soft and practically useless to her.
"Poor Mrs. Brown," I whispered to myself. "You need me, not guys like him."
She finally gave up trying to accomplish anything with Ralph's nose. It wasn't practical, apparently. She got off the bed and walked to the mirror and shot her stomach out in that characteristic way she had that looked so darned hot and wanton.
My piece was harder than ever now, but still I didn't attempt to enter the room. I wanted to watch her as long as I possibly could. Maybe I could discover something about her that would be useful to me later on-in case there was a later on.
"Where are you, boy?" she snarled at the mirror. "Why aren't you here to fuck the old bat when she needs it?" She whirled about and stared at the man on the bed. "You damned ass," she snarled further. "You damned drunken excuse for a man. I could kill you when you get this way."
I couldn't stand it any longer, but instead of hollering at her or jumping into the room, I pushed my piece back in my pants and ran down the driveway toward the street as fast as I could, not stopping until I was in front of Grandma's house. I drew to a halt, once I arrived, and caught my breath and wondered why on earth I had done that. I entered the house and slumped down on a chair and sat there for perhaps half an hour, my head whirling, my heart pumping with a furious and strange beat.
"Maybe I'm the one who's crazy," I muttered. "I sure act like it sometimes."
I went to the bathroom and stared down at the bowl. "No," I said. "I won't do this. The hell with it. Why should I? I have a woman."
I left the bathroom and the house and ran all the way back to Mrs. Brown's bedroom window. The light had been turned off in the room, but the window was up a few inches, though it hadn't been up quite that far before, I thought. I pushed it higher, enough for me to crawl into the room. I called out to Mrs. Brown, but it was obvious that she wasn't in the room. I could see the form of Ralph-I guessed it was Ralph-on the bed, though I could barely see the bed itself. I decided not to try to turn on a light but to walk carefully across the bedroom and pass through the door into the large front room, where Mrs. Brown certainly must be. Very-likely she would be sleeping on the sofa, or perhaps sitting there with a drink. I groped about in the dark and found the knob of the door and opened it, stepping into the next room, which was also dark. I called softly to Mrs. Brown, but she apparently wasn't in this room, either.
I made my way to the archway and, by feeling of the wall, managed to move along the small hallway until my hand came in contact with the knob of the door that led into the painting room. I opened the door and called softly to Mrs. Brown, but received no answer. Entering, I looked about but saw nothing except a dim red light at the far end of the room. I moved closer to it, glanced down and felt the hair stand on the back of my neck.
There was a man lying in a coffin-like box. He was an old man but had been a fairly handsome guy. His eyes were closed and I knew instinctively that he was not only dead but embalmed, and probably had been for quite a long time. I continued to stare down at the floor-level coffin, my heart hammering, and as I did so, something touched my arm and I jumped away hurriedly and whirled about all in the same motion.
"It's all right, boy," Mrs. Brown said softly. "He was my husband. I loved him, so I kept him here in his house. He loved his home and didn't want to ... live eternally in the ground . . .soI.. .so ... I-"
"Sure, Mrs. Brown," I said hoarsely. "Don't bother to explain. I understand. You loved him and wanted him nearby." I squinted my eyes and tried to see her face more clearly. Then realizing that squinting wasn't the way to do it in the dim light, I leaned closer to her, only to have her draw back swiftly, an odd look on her face. "Mrs. Brown, Ma'am," I said. "What's wrong with your mouth. Did you cut your lips?"
"Y ... yes. I cut my lip. That is, I didn't cut it. Ralph ... er ... accidentally did it. He ... er ... oh, never mind about him, the drunken-"
"I saw him on the bed..."
It hurt, the way she was gripping my arms with her hands. "What did you say, boy?" she cried.
"I didn't really see him. I mean it was too dark in the room. Mrs. Brown, you're not going to marry him, are you ... please? "
She touched something with her foot and a door began to slide level with the floor. In a moment the glass-covered coffin was out of sight and only the floor itself remained to be seen.
"I always come and have a look at my husband whenever I am deeply troubled, boy," she said, her tone sounding strange. "As to your question ... no, I'm not going to marry Ralph. Not now, boy. I doubt that I would have gone through with it anyway. He just isn't man enough for Mrs. Brown, boy. Surely you can understand that, Jimmy. Ralph isn't man enough for Mrs. Brown. Mrs. Brown's body requires a great deal more than a fellow like Ralph can supply. Now take you, boy. You're a male after my own heart. Mrs. Brown's body has a great need for you, boy, for that long, slim prick of yours. Yes, indeed. Mrs. Brown's body has a lot of needs, many needs-far too many of them, she sometimes thinks." Here she stroked her mouth with her hand and even in the dim light I could see the blood from her lip come off on her finger.
"You'd better go to the bathroom and take care of that cut, Ma'am," I told her gently.
"Cunt, did you say? Did you say Mrs. Brown should go to the bathroom and take care of her cunt? What an odd thing to say, boy. Mrs. Brown has you to take care of her cunt. She..."
I knew she was still quite drunk just by the way she was talking, though I couldn't smell liquor on her breath very much. 'T said ... I mean I was talking about your cut lip, Ma'am, not your cunt." I grinned when I said it, but the grin was lost on her because she had turned her face away from me.
"May I kiss you, boy, blood and all?" she cried passionately.
"Certainly, Mrs. Brown. Your blood is ... my blood. I don't mind if you aren't afraid of infection."
She kissed my mouth suddenly and pulled back, leaving my lips somewhat wet, probably from her blood. I instinctively put my finger to my lips and a bit of blood came off on it. I didn't shudder. It was my Mrs. Brown's blood, wasn't it? Why should her blood bother me when the juice of her cunt thrilled me half to death?
"You are a nice boy," she said, sounding strange again. "I must go now to wash my ... lips. Stay here ... in this room ... do not touch any of my paintings, dear ... just stay where you are ... don't go away ... don't touch anything ... I'll ... be right. . . back ... dear ... boy."
She was gone from the room quickly then.
An eerie feeling passed through me.
I didn't know what caused it.
The dead man in the coffin?
Possibly.
But I doubted it.
I doubted it very much.
It was something else that was giving me this eerie feeling. What?
For God's sake, what? WHAT?
I had been shivering, I now realized, and in an attempt to get out of this odd mood I was in, moved away from the area of the coffin under the floor. I recalled the painting Mrs. Brown had done of me and now I wanted to see it again. If I hurried I could sneak a look at it and she'd never know. Going to the standard that held the paintings-as I remembered-I pulled aside the cloth and looked at it in the dim light. I could barely see it, but it was the one; it definitely was the painting of Jimmy Dunn. There was something wrong with it, however. In the place where my hard-on should have been there was only a hole. Someone had cut my hard-on out of the painting. I wasn't sure if I wanted to grin or to feel anger. I let the cloth slide back in place and moved away from the spot quickly.
I waited for Mrs. Brown and her wonderful body to return.
I was getting so I thought of her as a body even as she sometimes did.
"Why did you look at it, boy?" she asked from somewhere in the room.
I whirled about but couldn't see her anywhere. "Where are you, Mrs. Brown?"
"I'm in the doorway, boy. Can't you see me?"
I tried to focus my eyes and glanced about the room to look for the doorway in question, but the room was too dark to see in every direction. "I can't see you, Mrs. Brown."
"Never mind. Why did you look at it? Didn't I tell you not to touch anything in this room?"
I swallowed hard. "Yes, Ma'am."
"You didn't mind me, did you, boy?"
"No, Ma'am. I'm sorry, Ma'am."
"I hate people who disobey me, boy."
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm terribly sorry, Ma'am."
"You saw the mutilated painting, didn't you, boy? Do you want to know who cut off your penis, boy? "
"It's only a painting, Mrs. Brown. I. . . "
"Only a painting, the boy says. It was my masterpiece, dear boy. It has been ruined and that moron Ralph did it. He cut your penis out of the painting with his penknife, the depraved fool. He ruined you, boy, ruined you. Do you hear me? He ruined you."
"But it isn't me, Mrs. Brown ... it's a painting of me. It's ... "
"What are you talking about, boy? I, Mrs. Brown, created that work of art. That fool Ralph deliberately-and because he was insanely jealous of you-ruined my work. The horrible drunken fool."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Brown."
She laughed then, a strange, awful-sounding laugh. "To be sure, to be sure," she muttered. Then more clearly: "Mrs. Brown is very sorry it happened-very sorry indeed. But let me tell you something, boy. I avenged your honor."
"My honor, Mrs. Brown?" I asked, thoroughly mystified. "Whatever do you mean?"
She laughed mirthlessly now.
"Mrs. Brown," I said at length, and when she didn't reply, "are you all right?"
"Bet your life I'm all right, boy. I'm happy now. I'm as happy as a bird."
I knew relief then. I was most happy to hear her speak in this manner because I had begun to think she might be off her rocker. "I'm glad you are happy, Mrs. Brown. I wish I could see you. Can't we turn on a brighter light?"
She laughed again. "No, boy. No bright lights. Hate bright lights when I'm happy. Only fools need bright lights. Greatest pleasures you'll ever have in life come when the lights are off or turned down low. You might as well discover that now as later, dear boy."
"Yes, Ma'am," was all I could think of to say.
"I do love to have you call me 'ma'am,' dear boy. At first it annoyed me, but now I love it very much. It makes me feel very much loved, for some reason. I suppose you 're the only person in this world who repeatedly has called me that. I-"
I waited, but she didn't continue in this vein.
"Boy," she said at length, "may I have the pleasure, the very great pleasure of sucking your pecker?"
"Oh ... yes ... Mrs. Brown ... now?"
"Mrs. Brown's body," she intoned, "needs the pleasure of being filled with the sap of a young boy."
I waited for her to go on, but she didn't say anything again for perhaps half a minute.
"Suck you off, boy. That's what Mrs. Brown's body needs. She needs the warm, thick sap of a boy within her belly."
"Yes, Ma'am," I said. "If you will come here where I can see you, I'll take it out of my pants and you can suck it."
"Silence, boy. Don't tell me what you will do. I give the orders around here. That is to say, Mrs. Brown gives the orders. Go ... to ... the bedroom ... that's where I desire to suck you."
"But ... "
"Silence, boy. Go to the bed and lie down and wait for Mrs. Brown's body to ... come and suck you."
"May I ask you something, Mrs. Brown, before I go ... to the bedroom?"
"Ask, boy, and then go to the bed."
I swallowed hard. "Have ... you ... forgotten that. . . Ralph is on the bed, drunk?"
She was silent momentarily. Then: "Ralph, dear boy, is not drunk."
"Then he's sleeping there. I saw his form on the bed as I passed through the room."
She began to laugh. "Tell you what, boy. Go and take a look at Ralph and then come back and tell me if you think he is that drunk."
"What do you mean, Mrs. Brown? I don't understand what you mean by that drunk."
She laughed. "Go and take a look at Ralph and then come back here, boy. Come back here and let Mrs. Brown partake of you. Will you do that? Remember, Mrs. Brown is your only friend. She will do things to you that no one else ever will. She will do the same thing to you, eventually, that she did to her poor old husband ... Ralph ... Ralph the impotent drunk." She spat the last four or five words out with a vengeance. "He ruined my painting by cutting out my boy's pecker." Mrs. Brown began to weep, but I still couldn't see her. After a moment she stopped weeping and cleared her throat noisily. "Boy," she hollered at me, "go and wake up Ralph and tell him to clear out of the house immediately. Tell him to go and never come back.
Tell him that you and I are going to live and fuck here together, just the two of us-you and I, boy, you and I, boy. Go and tell Ralph to get the hell out of my house and never come back."
"I'll tell him to leave, Ma'am. I wouldn't dare talk that tough to him. He's a full-grown man and I'm just a boy."
Her voice seemed to come from a great distance now. "Very well, boy, dear boy. Do it whatever way you can, but get rid of him and then lie down on the bed and when he's gone from the house, I'll come ... and we shall have a sex session that will be better than anything you have seen up to now. I'll fix you up the same way I did ... all of them, boy. Go ... hurry ... get rid of Ralph so that I can do what it is I need to do to you on the bed, dear boy."
"Yes, Ma'am."
I ran from the room, stumbling over things in the dark, but finally I arrived at the bedroom door. I found the lightswitch by groping about the wall and turned on the lights.
I turned and stared at the man lying on the bed. I did not speak to him.
I did not do anything but stare at the blood-soaked bed.
Correction...
I did something else.
I ran to the window, crawled through it in wild panic, ran crazily from the driveway and up the street, screaming at the top of my lungs.
Mrs. Brown had bitten off Ralph's piece and he had bled to death-horribly-on the bed!
