"SEXUAL DESIRE," WRITES ERICH FROMM IN THE ART OF Loving, "aims at fusion-and is by no means only a physical appetite, the relief of a painful tension. But sexual desire can be stimulated by the anxiety of loneliness, by the wish to conquer or be conquered, by vanity, by the wish to hurt and even to destroy, as much as it can be stimulated by love. It seems that sexual desire can easily blend with and be stimulated by any strong emotion, of which love is only one." At seventeen Robert was tall and good-looking, and had his choice of any of the girls in his senior class. But only one woman would satisfy him, and she, in turn, desired only Robert. Strange? Not at all. Except that the woman was Robert's mother.
CHAPTER ONE
I HEARD MY MOTHER CALLING OUT TO me-as was her custom-and I got up from my bed and went to her.
She lay on her back, her breasts fully exposed, her eyes filled with a deep-longing lust.
"I am in need, Robert," she said, a sensuous smile playing about her mouth.
"But I have to go to school, Mother."
"You mustn't go until you've gratified me, dear. You know how I ... need it."
"Why don't you get married again, Mother? Wouldn't it be better for you ... and for me?" I was annoyed at her insistence. She treated me as if I were nothing but a convenient stud, something for her to use.
She raised her dark brows. "Do you object to gratifying your mother, dear?"
I forced a smile. "Of course not. It's just that I overslept." I grimaced. "I hate being late for school."
"I won't expect you to sex me in the usual manner, Robert," she said lustfully. "You may put it ... in my mouth. How does that strike you, dear? Does it appeal to you?"
"It's okay, Mother," I said irritably, "but I've got to hurry. I'll be late for school if I don't."
"Pull your shorts down and get on the bed ... on your knees, please. I do hope you're able to give me a good deal. I'm real thirsty for it, dear." She sighed. "You satisfy me so."
I again forced a smile. "I'll fill your tummy, Mother. Will that be sufficient for this morning?" I was intentionally sarcastic.
She rubbed her upper lip with a dainty forefinger. "I'll be so pleased, dear. I'm extremely hot."
I crawled on the bed and pointed my hardened piece at her lips. "Do you want me to jack it into you?"
"Yes, please." Her eyes were closed now, her breasts heaving.
I pushed the head between her lips and sighed.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, her eyes still closed.
"No, but perhaps you'd better induce it. I think you'd like it more if you did."
"Very well." She placed one hand between my legs, tenderly lifting my testicles, and placed the other hand about my hard-on. She then jacked it savagely a few times and then placed her mouth over it, running her tongue over the swollen gland. Her eyes still closed, she proceeded to do a combination of jacking and sucking, and it required little time and effort on my part to drain into her mouth, my sap flowing hard for a few moments, and then it ceased. She murmured softly, a happy smile on her face and removed her mouth from me. "You're such a sweet boy, Robert," she said. "I do so need a male about the place."
"Are you satisfied, Mother?" I asked quietly. "Will that be all for now?"
She opened one eye and glanced at me oddly. "That will be all for now, but when you come home from school, I shall need more of it. This time it wasn't good enough. Not nearly good enough ... "
"All right. May I go now and get dressed?"
She sighed and dropped back down on the pillow. "Yes, dear, of course. Run along to school, but come home directly afterwards. I'm going to be needing you badly. I'm terribly in need of you."
I bit my lips. "Good-bye."
She sighed again. "Good-bye, dear." She shot me the most lustful glance possible, and before I left the room, I saw her snaking her fingers into her cunt. I smiled and almost wished I had time to screw her.
School was out for the day, and I was walking slowly along the street with Abbie, my girl friend. She was seventeen, my age, a bright-eyed, little blonde girl, very nice, and I think I loved her then.
I pinched her arm lightly. "How are you getting along with your father these days, Abbie?"
She smiled. "Quite well, but he's after me practically all the time."
"And do you like it?"
Her smile became broader. "Yes, I like it. But sometimes when I'm doing homework and he has a need for me ... well, I don't get the work done properly, and my grades have been falling of late."
"Your father and my mother, they should get together." Then an idea came to my mind. "Hey, why don't you bring your father over this evening, and I'll introduce him to my mom. Perhaps they'll like one another so well, they'll leave us to ... you understand what I'm saying, don't you?"
Abbie laughed delightfully. "I'd love to do that; and it would be wonderful if they got to like one another enough so that we could have more time for each other."
"I wish we had enough time to go somewhere and play our game, Abbie."
She laughed. "Sorry, Robert, but I've got to hurry home to ... gratify my father. He's expecting me and gave me strict orders to get home immediately."
"I know what you mean; I have the same orders. We've got to make arrangements for our two parents to meet, Abbie. Tonight, if possible."
She just sighed.
I patted her round rump and leaned over as we walked. "How I'd love to stick my cock up your asshole, darling."
She sighed again. "I swear, I'm almost ready to have you do it here on the street. You really mustn't talk that way to me, Robert. You know it makes me hot."
"I want to make you hot, Abbie. If you'll come to the park with me now, I'm sure we can find a secluded place where we can at least suck one another off before going home."
She sighed once more. "I'd love to, Robert, but I really must hurry home. My father is waiting for me, and I don't dare keep him waiting too long."
I patted her rump again as we came to our street corner. "Could I see you tonight, late, after they've gone to bed?"
"I'll call you, Robert," she promised.
"I hope you can get away from your father."
"I'll call you," she repeated, and we parted.
I walked into the front room where Mother was lying on the sofa reading and having her afternoon cocktail. I bent over and kissed her as I usually did.
"Mother, there is a Mr. LeBlanc who would like to screw you," I said, letting her have it without introductory remarks.
She blinked and lifted herself upright. "I beg your pardon, dear. What did you say?"
"A Mr. LeBlanc, the father of a girl I know at school, is coming over this evening to screw you."
Her dark eyes lighted up considerably. "Are you joking with me, Robert?" she asked, probably for want of anything better to say.
"No, Mother. Abbie-that's the girl's name-. and I were talking it over a while ago. You see, her father has no wife, just as you have no husband. So her father does it to Abbie, just as you ... er ... do it with me. We thought it might be a good idea for you two to get together, so I asked Abbie to ... ask her father to come over this evening." I was lying just a bit, but I felt I could call Abbie on the phone and induce her to bring her father to the house.
Mother placed her feet on the floor, set her glass down and touched her upper lip with her forefinger as she so often did. "Are you certain, Robert? How do you know this Mr. LeBlanc will want to come here tonight?"
"Because he has a great need for a lovely woman. Abbie told me so."
"Do you think I'm lovely, dear?"
"Certainly. You're very desirable, and any man in his right mind would want you."
"Thank you, dear ... now tell me about your girl. Does she have a nice, tight little cunt?"
I smiled. "Not quite as tight as it possibly should be." I paused deliberately, and then delivered the punch line. "You see, her father is such a hot man he is always on top of her, and she tells me his cock is an unbelievably large and long one."
Her eyes glittered with interest. "He sounds like a most interesting man, dear. I do believe I'd like to meet the gentleman. What did you say his name was?"
"Mr. LeBlanc."
She pursed her lips. "I simply adore Frenchmen," she murmured. "How soon can you get him over her?"
I laughed. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait till evening. It's only four."
She frowned. "If he wants to meet me, have him come over now. I detest waiting on people."
"I'll phone Abbie," I told her happily.
"Wonderful," she said. "How old a man is he, dear?"
"In his late thirties, I believe. I've never met him."
"Hmmm. Most interesting. By all means call the girl, Robert."
I went to the phone and called Abbie, telling her that my mother was delighted at the prospect of meeting her father right away. I impressed on Abbie that she should have him come immediately. She asked me to hang on for a minute, which I did. It required somewhat longer than a minute for her to achieve the desired result with her father, but finally she spoke into the phone again.
"Father says he's also delighted, Robert, and that we'll be over right away, just as soon as he shaves."
"Fine," I said. "I have an idea this will turn out to be a most important evening for all of us, Abbie."
"Oh, I hope so, Robert. I'm so hot for you." I smiled. "Same here, lover. Please hurry."
"I will," she said, and hung up.
Mother was upstairs finishing her bath when the door buzzer sounded, and I went to let them in.
I found Mr. LeBlanc to be an enormously large man, not so very tall, but wide and powerful-looking. When he clasped my hand during Abbie's introduction, he nearly crushed it. He was almost totally bald, which, even to me, suggested a degree of masculinity to be found in few men. I was somewhat in awe of him, I admit, but this soon passed, for I found him to be a most interesting and amiable gentleman and exactly the sort of man my mother liked.
I kissed Abbie, and she smiled nicely. To her father I said, "Mom is upstairs finishing her bath and will be down presently, sir."
"Very nice of you and your mother to invite us," he said, his voice low and almost gruff.
I decided to help matters along a bit. "She's most anxious to meet you, sir."
Mr. LeBlanc beamed at me. "I also am most anxious to meet her. I understand she's a very remarkable woman."
I knew what he meant, of course. Abbie had told him about my mother and me and our love-making. "Thank you, sir," I replied politely. "Please come into the front room and sit down."
We were seated now, and I offered him a drink Mother had prepared cocktails-but he refused politely, telling me he would rather wait until my mother had come downstairs. There was a brief silence.
Then Mr. LeBlanc leaned forward in his chair. "Tell me, Robert. Does your mother understand my purpose in coming here?"
I smiled at him. "Yes. She's expecting you to screw her, sir."
He stared at me open-mouthed momentarily, and then leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Excellent. I like forthright people. Excellent indeed."
I pursued the subject. "And while you're screwing my mother, sir, I trust you won't object to my taking liberties with your daughter?"
He waved his hand. "Not at all, Robert. You two go right ahead and enjoy your hot, young blood."
Abbie came over and joined me on the sofa then. I felt her warm hand creep into my own. "How do you like him?" she whispered.
"Fine," I whispered back. "Mom will like him, too."
Mr. LeBlanc was on his feet now. He moistened his lips and studied me briefly. "Do you suppose your mother would object if I went upstairs and introduced myself, Robert?"
I got to my feet. "I think that would be all right with her. The bathroom is the first door to your right at the head of the stairs."
"Have I your permission to go up, Robert?"
I was surprised. No one had ever asked my permission for anything. "Yes, sir. Please do. If you like, I can call up and tell her you're coming."
He shook his head. "I would prefer to ... surprise her, Robert. Not too much, just a little."
"The stairs are over there, sir." I pointed at them.
He inclined his head slightly, smiled at Abbie, and turning about, headed for the open stairway. Abbie and I watched him as he climbed the stairs and knocked lightly on the bathroom door. He pushed the door open almost immediately and entered the room, closing the door quickly and shutting off our view of him.
"Your dad works quickly, Abbie," I observed, smiling.
"Yes, he does that, all right. I hope your mother isn't alarmed by seeing a strange man enter her bathroom."
I laughed. "You don't know my mother."
"Is she really as sexy as that?"
I nodded. "More so. Your father may have all he can handle."
It was her turn to laugh. "You don't know my father, Robert."
She gave me a playful push, and I sprawled down on the sofa, and before I could speak she had taken out my cock and encircled it with her hot lips. Her fingers ran up and down on my tube, and in no time at all I had blown my goo into her pretty mouth. She apparently swallowed it, licked her lips and glanced up at me, one eye closed.
"Oh, I love the taste of you, Robert. So warm and thick and sweet."
I took her face in my hands and kissed her forehead.
"Kiss my mouth, Robert," she said oddly.
I kissed her mouth, and, when I did, she spat into mine. The thick fluid she hadn't swallowed passed from her lips to mine, and I eagerly swallowed it down. Now my penis was fairly dripping with more of it. She saw this and immediately fastened her lips about it again, her fingers working at me frantically. I shortly blew off again, and this time she swallowed all my offerings.
"Wonderful," she breathed, licking her lips as she had done before. "I swear, Robert, I could suck you forever."
We had no chance for further talk, for suddenly from upstairs came a loud sound, as if someone or something had fallen out of a bed. Abbie and I exchanged glances.
"Sounds like Dad has located your mother, Robert!" she cried, clapping her hands like a child.
Muffled grunts, loud enough for us to hear, however, came from upstairs. "He's got the big prong into her!" Abbie cried. "That's the way I always grunt when he rams it up me."
My mother screamed, and I recognized it as being one of delight and not of pain or fear-I'd heard such screams from her many times, though never with such volume.
"Sounds as if you're right, Abbie. Something good is happening up there."
Abbie laughed. "When he sinks his shaft, it's good, believe me. He's built like a bull."
Suddenly, there were sounds of running feet upstairs, and Abbie and I immediately looked up at the stairs. My mother was down on her back, stark naked, and Mr. LeBlanc, also naked, was on top of her. They began to come down the stairs with each thrust of his pecker. Mother had her legs wrapped about his muscular legs, and he spread his hands out to prevent them from tumbling down all at once. Little by little and step by step the two of them moved down the stairs, making a most unusual and interesting sight. Finally, they were all the way to the bottom, neither of them paying any attention to Abbie or me, and Mr. LeBlanc kept up his powerful stroking of my mother. Mother's eyes were tightly closed, and I saw her shudder repeatedly as the powerful man dug his hardened cock into the deep recess of her cunt. Mr. LeBlanc let out an agonized groan; I saw his body stiffen, and I knew he was flooding into my mother's cunt.
Abbie came closer to me, and I turned and stared at her, my heart pounding furiously. She'd stripped off her clothing and was moving her butt about in circular fashion.
"Take your clothes off, Robert," she begged. "Let's join them on the floor."
I nearly tore my trousers getting them off. Dropping to the floor beside her, I took my penis in hand and thrust it at her red cunt. I never got to it, however, for Mr. LeBlanc roughly knocked me aside and, much to my surprise, began to suck my cock, while at the same time my mother grasped Abbie's hips and buried her face in my girl's crevice. Abbie reached out her hands, and I clasped both of them with my own, and the two of us were creamed simultaneously by one another's parents.
"Robert," my mother said later, after Mr. LeBlanc and Abbie had gone home, "I must thank you for inviting Mr. LeBlanc over. I found both him and his daughter to be delightful people."
I was in my pajamas now and having a glass of milk. "I'm glad you liked him."
"He is an utterly fascinating man, dear. What an enormous stabber. He's the kind of man I think I would marry."
I nearly choked on my milk. "Are you serious?"
She laughed and removed her dress. She wasn't wearing any underclothing. She had no inhibitions about revealing her body or her desires to me. Her breasts jounced about enticingly as she walked across the room, her butt swaying from side to side, the little creases coming and going in each cheek of her butt as she walked. I saw her pour herself a shot of whiskey, a drink she seldom indulged in least not without some sort of dilutent mixed in it.
"Robert," she said, turning about, "did you think us strange with that sudden turn of events...."
I waited for her to finish her question, but she didn't. "Do you mean did I think it strange when Mr. LeBlanc sucked me and you sucked Abbie?" I asked.
"Y-Yes," she muttered.
"No, I enjoyed it very much. Why?"
She laughed. "I'm afraid you've inherited my hot blood, dear." She paused, looked up at me over the rim of her glass. "I must say it pleases me that you have."
"I rather like it, too."
She moved her legs farther apart and stood there with the most delightful look of lust on her pretty face. "Robert, dear," she called over to me. "Please come over and get down on your knees. I need something from you."
I eagerly went to her and dropped to my knees. Her tummy was only inches from my spittle-filled mouth.
"Robert, dear, suck my cunt. Make me cream in your face, dear."
"Be happy to."
I grasped her buttocks and pulled her cunt to my lips, darting my tongue in and out of her with great rapidity.
Her response was wonderful. She discharged with a shudder, and I tasted and swallowed her hot, sweet fluid. She groaned and threw herself down on me, her great thighs spreading, her moist cunt pursuing my lips, my face, as if bent on swallowing me back into her womb.
The heat of my desire became so intense that my body jerked itself almost into a convulsion, and a moment later my swollen tube emptied itself out onto the carpet, drenching it with thick, gray milk.
She removed her cunt from my mouth long enough to speak. "I wonder what it would be like to be married to such a man as Mr. LeBlanc," she murmured.
I had no answer for her. None at all. Had I one I couldn't have given it, because she suddenly sat down firmly on my face, and my lips were covered completely. I closed my eyes and resumed sucking her.
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS THE FOLLOWING WEEKEND THAT she went on a trip with Mr. LeBlanc, leaving Abbie to keep me company, or so she said, but the trouble was when I phoned Abbie no one answered. I was somewhat put out by having Mother go away with Mr. LeBlanc for the weekend, even though I'd wanted her to meet him in the first place. I'd thought it a good thing for her to have a "male friend" other than myself, but I hadn't expected her to be so taken up with him immediately. I wondered about this as I hung up the phone. Could I be jealous of Mr. LeBlanc?
"Wonder where Abbie is." I murmured aloud. "She didn't tell me she was going out." I had seen her only that afternoon.
I left the house and got into my mother's car. She'd left it parked in the driveway-and drove to Abbie's. It was getting dark and there were no lights on in the place, but I went to the door and rang the doorbell, hoping she would be in. Apparently, she wasn't, as no one answered the doorbell. I returned to the car, swearing mildly, and climbed in. I drove downtown and parked near a bar that I knew sometimes sold liquor to underage people. I entered the place, walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. I held my breath, waiting to see if the bartender would serve me or refuse. He just grunted, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and drew a beer. I paid him and sat sipping the suds and looking about the place. Everyone in the place was much older than I, and I found this boring, so I finished the beer and left. I walked to the car and was about to climb in when I saw Abbie riding by in another car. I almost yelled at her, but then I saw she was with someone else.
"So that's how it is," I muttered. "Wonderful. I love you, too, Abbie." I was angry and hurt by her action as I'd thought of Abbie as being my girl. I was tempted to re-enter the bar and have a few more drinks, but this seemed to be the wrong tack to take. If I became drunk because of her unfaithfulness, it meant I was upset, and I was determined not to allow Abbie or anyone else to do that to me.
"That's kid stuff," I muttered, and climbed behind the wheel of the car. I started the motor and drove off, heading for home.
When I entered the driveway, I immediately saw the other car parked near the garage. I shut off the motor, jumped out and walked to the porch. Abbie was standing there with the other fellow. I quickly glanced at him and noticed his effeminate appearance. There was something about the way he stood, his weight resting for the most part on one foot, his knee bent. I turned to Abbie and smiled tightly.
"Hello," I said coolly. "Looking for me?"
Abbie hastily took my hand and drew me up onto the porch. "Robert, this is my cousin Alfie." She looked me straight in the eye. "He doesn't mind my telling you this. Alfie is gay. He said he'd like to meet you. He's visiting us this weekend."
I blinked. What did she mean by "us"?
"I mean, he's visiting my father and me, Robert."
"Your father and my mother are...."
"Yes, I know," she broke in quickly. "So Alfie is staying at our house." She smiled. "You don't have to worry. He is really a homosexual."
I turned to Alfie, wondering how he was taking all of this, but he wasn't a bit perturbed by Abbie's frank remarks. At least, he didn't appear to be. "Hello, Alfie. Glad to meet you."
"Hello," he said, flashing me a wide smile. "I swear, you are just as handsome as Abbie said you were. I'm delighted to meet you, Robert." He gave his blond head a toss and then cocked it at an angle, as though appraising me.
"Thanks," I said drily.
"Alfie and I came over because we knew your mother wasn't here, of course," Abbie told me. "Let's all three of us get drunk."
I was all in favor of getting drunk with Abbie, but I didn't think much of having this fag around while we were doing it. I forced myself to smile and invited them in. Unlocking the door, I held it open, and they entered. I got a bottle of my mother's whiskey and poured three drinks. I handed one to Abbie and another to Alfie. When I did this, he managed to touch my hand and cling to it for a brief instant. He surprised me with this move.
"I hope you don't mind my saying this, Robert," he said softly, "and you, Abbie ... I don't want to offend anyone ... but merely looking at Robert...."-he appeared to be talking to Abbie alone at this juncture-" ... merely looking at Robert," he repeated, "gives me a tremendous hard-on."
Abbie laughed, but I felt strangely uncomfortable for a moment. The feeling passed, and I relaxed and smiled, too. I glanced at Abbie.
"Robert understands, don't you, Robert?" she asked.
"Sure," I said. "Hot pants is ... hot pants, I suppose."
Alfie laughed now. "What a perfect way of saying it, Robert." He cleared his throat. "Would you care to see my ... condition?" He laughed again, but this time it came out in a nervous manner.
"By all means, Alfie," Abbie said, excitement in her blue eyes. "Show us your whang."
"Do you mind, Robert?" Alfie asked, leaning forward and nearly spilling his drink on the carpeting.
"Better put your drink down first," I said.
Alfie set the glass down and unzipped his pants, removing his long, hardened tube. He grinned at me and then at Abbie. "Isn't it a pretty one?" he asked.
"Lovely," Abbie cried, and clapped her hands. "Nice," I said coolly.
"I'd like you to touch it, Robert, if you have no objections."
This Alfie had his nerve, I felt. I simply shook my head. "Not my bag," I murmured.
"Oh, come on, Robert," Abbie cried. "Don't be a prude."
This was an unusual term, to say the least, for her to apply to me but I said nothing about it.
"Please, dear boy, touch my doobe," Alfie begged. "I promise not to go off in your hand."
I shrugged, and walked over to him and grabbed his cock in my hand. It was warm and hard and seemed to quiver when I touched it. I withdrew my hand after a few moments.
"Oh, thank you, Robert," he exclaimed. "You have no idea of how that pleases me."
"What did you call it, Alfie?" Abbie wanted to know.
"My doobe. Just a word I invented."
"I see it ... we've seen it," I said calmly. "Put it back in your pants, will you?"
Abbie snickered. "Does it bother you, Robert?"
"No," I replied shortly. "Not especially."
Abbie did an odd thing then. She was sitting beside Alfie, and suddenly she bent over and took his cock into her mouth and ran her tongue over the head of it. I was startled, but again I relaxed and watched her. Much to my further surprise, I saw Alfie gently push her away from it, and glance anxiously at me.
"Really now, Abbie," he said with what I took to be mock severity. "This isn't for girls. I prefer boys ... like Robert. Would you ... care to do the same, Robert?"
I forced myself to smile. "No Thanks."
He sighed and replaced his cock in his pants.
"Dear," he said, murmuring it. "I do have a hard time getting what I want."
"Don't we all," I replied.
"You tasted different from Robert, Alfie," Abbie exclaimed. "Does being gay make you taste different?"
"I really don't know," he sighed. "Very possibly."
"I'd love to see something very unusual tonight," Abbie said, her eyes alight with passion. "Can't one of us think up something different to do?"
Alfie changed the subject immediately. "Robert," he said, leaning forward again and staring at me intently. "Abbie tells me you're caught up in mother-love. Do you like it, if I may ask?"
"Sure," I said.
"My father is dead, too, Robert," he said. "And my mother has tried many times to seduce me, but, of course, I simply tell her it's unthinkable ... for me, that is."
"I should imagine so," I said carefully.
He laughed. "Come now, Robert, you can speak forthrightly with me. Tell him he can, Abbie."
"Oh, he knows he can, Alfie. It takes Robert a while to get acquainted with people sometimes, doesn't it, Robert?"
"Yes," I replied. "Why don't you two drink up and have another?"
They followed my suggestion, and a moment later Alfie turned his attention back to me. "I hope you don't mind my asking you such personal questions, but Abbie, as I said, has told me about how you are with your mother. Tell me, does she demand that you screw her every day, Robert?"
I smiled. "Pretty much. Sometimes two and three times a day."
"And do you always crawl right on and give her the old prong?"
"Sure. She's my mother. She knows what she wants of me."
He smiled and took another sip of his drink. "I think that is wonderfully generous of you, Robert. May I ask you something else?"
I shrugged. "Go ahead."
"Does your mother ever suck you off, Robert?"
My ears burned slightly, but I didn't allow him to upset me too much. "Yes, of course. She likes to suck me off. She says it satisfies a certain hunger in her."
He laughed again. "I definitely know what she means. I, too, have that hunger. I have it right now, as a matter-of-fact."
Abbie surprised me. "Alfie is a very nice fellow, Robert. Why don't you let him suck your cock? I wouldn't mind. Besides, I've never seen a homosexual suck off a boy. I think it'd be interesting."
I picked up my glass and swallowed a bit of the whiskey. "You're a strange girl sometimes, Abbie."
She giggled. "You can say that again. I guess all three of us are pretty strange when you come right down to it."
I had to admit she had a point there. "Maybe later," I said, hoping this would be enough to change the subject for the moment. I turned back to my drink, hoping neither of them would notice my burning ears. I wondered if they were as red as they were warm. To cover up my momentary attack of self-consciousness, I got to my feet and walked over to the liquor cabinet and picked up the bottle. I refilled their glasses, as well as my own, and by this time my ears had grown less warm, so I sat down across from them again. I saw that Abbie had pulled her skirt high around her hips, and her hand was down inside of her panties.
"Something bothering you, Abbie?" I asked, smiling.
She sighed. "All this sex talk has gotten me hot, Robert. You two keep on talking while I rub off my button."
"I'll be happy to take you upstairs, Abbie," I bluntly told her.
"That wouldn't be polite, Robert. Poor Alfie would just about die down here all by himself."
"I should be happy to go upstairs with you two," Alfie responded quickly, half-rising to his feet. "Perhaps while Robert is screwing you, I could in turn...." He turned from Abbie to me questioningly.
Abbie seemed delighted with this suggestion. "What do you say, Robert? Are you game?"
"What did you have in mind, Alfie?"
He giggled slightly. "I should be most grateful to you, Robert, if you would allow me to cornhole you while you screw Abbie. That's all."
I studied both of them briefly, then put my drink down. "Come on, you two," I said. "Hurry, before I change my mind."
Abbie lay naked on my bed, and I, also naked, lowered my body to hers. My cock was intensely hard, and, as I rammed it into her cunt, I saw that Alfie was undressing hurriedly. I knew what to expect from him, of course, but I wasn't at all certain I'd enjoy it. He threw himself on top of my buttocks, and I felt his stiffened dong poking at my asshole. Abbie kissed my mouth wetly at that precise moment, or I might have protested-albeit mildly-but, as it was, I made no move to get him off, but rather allowed him to shove his tube into me. He appeared to be experienced at this sort of thing, for each time I thrust into Abbie's cunt he would pull his tube out slightly, and when I pulled mine out of her, he would sink his deeply into me.
This went on for a long time, and, surprisingly enough, I found it didn't hurt me but that I actually enjoyed it. There must have been something about his stiff tube rubbing against my prostate gland, for each time it did, a shudder of delight would pass through me, causing me to squirt continuously into Abbie's cunt.
"Oh ... Robert," Abbie moaned. "This is ... so exciting, darling." Then to Alfie she said, "How is it up there, Alfie?"
"Delightful," he cried. "I swear this boy of yours has the most beautiful ass in the state."
He recklessly plunged into me, and it felt so wild that I couldn't continue. I blew my wad into Abbie with such force that she screamed and tried to wiggle her butt to get as much of the milky fluid as possible, but the combined weight of our two bodies on top of her own slender one prevented her from moving about. Apparently, Alfie realized I was blowing, so he lunged at me rapidly now and a moment later I felt his hot sap squirting into me, and this in turn achieved the desired effect as far as Abbie was concerned, for I kept on delivering into her cunt until it must have filled her to capacity.
We were back downstairs now, and the three of us were still trying to regain our breath. I noticed that Alfie had a rather strained look on his face, and I asked him about it.
He smiled slightly. "I'm very frustrated," he said. "I'm so used to receiving at the same time that I ... well, I swear, I'm going to have to leave you two alone and go out and look for a pickup. I want to swallow, if you understand me."
Abbie placed her hand on his arm. "We understand, Alfie. You take your car and go out and have fun. I'll stay here with Robert. When you're through, come back, if you want to. You know where I live. If you want to go there directly afterward, you'll find the rear door open."
He got to his feet and smiled at both of us. "I must say, you two are splendid sports about it."
"Not at all," I murmured. "It was my ... our pleasure."
"Good-bye then." He looked into my eyes. "If I'm not successful, would you allow me to suck it from you later?"
I glanced at Abbie. She nodded. I turned back to Alfie. "I'll think about it," I told him.
"Thank you," he said. "See you two later then." He left, and Abbie and I were finally alone.
It was then that I received the surprise of my life. Once he was out of the place, Abbie glared at me, her eyes angry. "Damn you," she cried. "Why did you let a queer stick you? What's wrong with you? Are you out of your mind?"
I stared at her incredulously. "It was your idea, Abbie. What's come over you?"
She picked up her glass and gulped the whiskey in it, choking a little. "I was just being nice to my cousin, but you didn't have to go along with it. You should have told him to go and take a flying leap!"
I suddenly became cold-all over. "Who gave you the right to inform me as to what I should or shouldn't do?"
Her lower lip stuck out, her head shot back. "Are you going to argue with me, Robert?"
"If you want it that way, yes."
She stamped her foot. "You're my man. I don't want you going down with a fag."
I walked to where my glass was on the table, picked it up, saw it was empty and refilled it. I drank a portion of the contents, then set the glass down. "Abbie," I said, "go home, please."
"W-What?"
I took a deep breath. "I said go home, please."
"Well, I never...."
I pointed at the door. "There it is. Take off."
Just then it burst open and Alfie stood there. "I'm sorry," he said. "Your car is blocking my way, Robert. Would you move it, please."
"He'll move it," Abbie said sullenly, "because I'm going with you."
I shrugged and went outside and backed my car out into the street. A moment later they left in his car, and only he waved at me as they drove away. I tried to figure out what had come over Abbie but finally gave up on it. I had never seen her act this way before. I went back inside the house, had one more drink, and began to wonder what I was going to do with myself for the weekend. Fortunately, I had plenty of money-my mother always saw to it that I did (as long as I was a "good boy" to her, that is). I decided to drive somewhere, perhaps to another city, and look for excitement. I was damned if I was going to attempt to settle things with Abbie. I though!, she'd acted badly.
I changed my clothes and walked back to the car and climbed in. Some twenty minutes later I was in the country, driving along a road that had only a small amount of traffic. I had no specific plans as yet but was content to drive and see where the road took me. I had never been on this particular road before. It was getting rather dark now, so I turned on the car lights and continued to drive at a slow rate of speed for several miles. I saw a crossroad and, acting on impulse, turned to the left. This road appeared to be even less used than the one I had been on, and for a moment I wondered if I shouldn't turn around and go back, but I didn't.
I must have driven for six or seven miles before seeing the fork in the road. Both prongs of the fork were paved, so I kept to the right and continued on for about a mile.
The road came to an abrupt end then, and I saw a high wall with a closed gate in front of me. I drove closer to it and could just barely make out the lettering of a sign at one side of the gate.
SEXUALIS, INC. tread.
I sat there, looking at the sign, at the gate, the wall. Absently I took out my cigarettes and lighted one.
"Sexualis, incorporated," I murmured. "What the hell does that mean?"
I got out of the car and walked up to the gate and peered through it. There were lights off to one side, a lot of lights.
"Wonder what's going on here," I muttered. "Some kind of a nudist camp, maybe."
I didn't have a chance to say anything more, for a hard object descended on my skull at that precise moment, and I vaguely saw the ground rise and smack me hard in the face.
At least I thought it was the ground. I wasn't sure. I passed out.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN I REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS, I found I was slumped in my car on another road. It was daylight, and this startled me momentarily until I realized I had been out cold all night long, and that someone-probably the person who had hit me with the hard object-had driven me away from the nudist camp, or whatever the place actually was. Evidently the person had resented my being there. Perhaps the location of the camp was supposed to be a secret.
I started the motor and headed back for the city. When I arrived at home, I found that my mother was back. She met me at the door and asked me where I'd been.
"Out," I replied evenly. "You weren't here, so I decided to look for fun elsewhere."
Her eyes grew large. "Are you drunk?"
"Of course not. Why do you ask?"
She rubbed her upper lip with her finger. "Do you know what day this is?"
"Must be Saturday. I took a drive last night and...."
"It's Monday, and you should be in school. I was about to call in the police."
"Monday? Why, it can't be," I faltered.
"It's Monday morning. I came home yesterday and you weren't here. I was getting worried about you, Robert. Where've you been?"
I rubbed my head, though it didn't hurt. "I must have been knocked out longer than I thought," I muttered.
"What did you say, dear?"
I shook my head. "Nothing in particular. I was just muttering."
"Well, it's too late to go to school now. You look dirty. Go up and take a bath and then ... come to my bedroom, dear."
"All right," I said, my mind whirling.
"I'll be waiting for you, dear."
"Didn't you like Mr. LeBlanc?"
"Yes, of course, Robert, but that was yesterday. I have another need today." She looked away.
"How could I have been out for three days?" I muttered.
"What did you say, dear?"
"Nothing. Just muttering again."
"Well, go up and take a bath. You're positively filthy." She'd turned back and was surveying me with distaste. "You look as if you'd been wallowing with hogs." She stared at the front of my pants. "That looks like come on you. Have you been fornicating with some dirty bitches?"
I laughed. "Not that I know of."
"I've warned you before about dirty bitches, Robert. I do hope you didn't bring back some outrageous disease to infect Mother."
I took a deep breath. "I don't know what I've been doing for the last three days. I was out cold."
She blinked and sniffed. "You've been drinking, Robert. I wish you wouldn't do things like that. It's not nice."
"I wasn't drunk, Mother."
"I don't want to discuss it any more. Please go up and bathe. You actually smell like a dirty bitch."
I entered the house and went up the stairs to my bedroom and undressed. After showering and putting on a robe, I went to her room as she'd requested. I found her lying on the bed, naked.
"You may get on me and gratify me, Robert," she said coldly. "I warn you, you had better do a good job of it. I'm quite passionate today."
"Did Mr. LeBlanc leave you that unsatisfied?" I couldn't help asking.
"Mr. LeBlanc was quite good, dear, but as I said, this is another day. Have you got a hard-on yet?"
"No."
"Get one, please."
"I don't seem to have any urge at all for some reason."
Her eyes went even colder on me now. "You will get a hard-on, please, and at once."
I laughed tensely. "You can't order it to get up. Not even you can do that if I'm not in the mood."
She sat up and rubbed her tummy. "I knew it! You've been fornicating with many dirty bitches!
Just how many did you have over the weekend, Robert?"
"None that I know of."
"What?" Her jaw went slack.
"I said, none that I know of, Mother."
"Why are you lying about it?"
"I'm not lying."
"That's the craziest thing I ever heard of, but I don't want to talk about it now. Do you know something, Robert? Mr. LeBlanc took me to the most wonderful place for the weekend. It's a place for married people, for the most part, to change partners. Of course we had to lie a bit and tell them we were man and wife or they might not have let us in. I saw the most exciting things happening there. You wouldn't believe what I saw, Robert."
Perhaps it was my sixth sense, but I seemed to know where this place was. I decided to ask her, however. "Where was the place, Mother?"
"Oh, it's out in the country somewhere. They called it Sexualis, Incorporated. Would you believe me if I told you I saw grown women sucking off other women, men sucking off men, and women and men going down on one another in a large room with everyone else standing around watching them?"
"Did you say Sexualis, Incorporated, Mother?" I asked slowly.
"Yes. Why? Have you heard of the place?"
"That's where I was over the weekend, I think." Her eyes grew large. "What did you say, Robert?"
I repeated my statement.
"But that can't be, Robert. I would have seen you. What happened?"
I rubbed my head. "I stumbled onto the place while out driving. I was knocked out. I don't know what happened to me. I came to in the car this morning. Someone had driven me away from the place."
"How very odd," she murmured. "They must have given you sedatives or something to keep you out."
"Probably. Maybe that's why I don't feel sexy now."
She nodded. "A lot of sedatives over a three-day period could temporarily lull your sex urges. Don't you feel anything at all?"
"I feel kind of dopey, that's all."
"I just remembered something. Next weekend at Sexuaks, Incorporated, they're having Bring a Youth Week for the females. How would you like to go along?"
"Sounds all right."
"We'll have to omit telling them our relationship, dear. It might be all right, but then again, they might object to a mother bringing her son."
"Okay," I said. Maybe I could find out why someone had slugged me if I went there with her.
"Fine. We'll plan on it, Robert. Now run along. I can see you aren't going to be any good for me now, and I want to sleep for a while."
"Did you have a rugged weekend, too?"
She smiled strangely. "Yes. Very rough ... but wonderful, too."
The following Friday evening we set out in the car for the place in the country. It was a good thing I'd been there before, because her directions were not only vague, they were entirely wrong. She was never too good at remembering such matters.
When we approached the gate of the place, I slowed down and looked around to see if anyone was in view. No one was. It was still light out, and I could see the high wall and the surrounding countryside fairly well. There was nothing ominous about the place. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet here, but I had the instinctive feeling that things were not quite as peaceful as they appeared to be. However, only time would tell if I was correct in my feelings.
Mother placed her hand on the front of me. "Oh, dear," she sighed. "Just being here makes me so very hot. I suppose all these other females will want to take you away from me the moment we enter."
I grinned. "Are you suggesting something?
"I really do think I should suck you off before we go in, but I suppose I can get along without it for once."
"All right," I said, not making too much sense.
"One thing I should warn you about, dear. Inside there's no such thing as heterosexuality and homosexuality. There is only sex, period. Do you understand? Inside, no one can refuse anyone else. If someone wants you, you must go along with them, regardless of their sex. If a man wants you to suck him off, you must do so."
I squirmed a bit. "You didn't tell me that before."
"I forgot, dear. Do you want to go back home?"
"No. Let's go inside. Who am I supposed to be?"
"I've been thinking about that, Robert. We'll simply tell the truth if anyone asks. You're my son. Understand?"
"All right. Let's go. I'm anxious to look over the place."
We got out of the car, and I saw her walk to a post and open a small door. She pressed something and the gates swung open. She seemed surprised at this.
"I believe they want you to drive the car inside the grounds, Robert. Seems to me that's what Mr. LeBlanc did last weekend."
"Don't you know for certain?" I asked.
"I didn't pay any attention. Besides, I'd had quite a few drinks from Mr. LeBlanc's bottle, and I wasn't in the mood for observing things. Though I did see him open the little door and press the button."
We got back into the car, and I drove into the grounds. There was a circular drive, and I followed it for what appeared to be the equivalent of a city block. I stopped the car and parked it alongside several others, and we got out.
"It looks like there are a few others here already," she said, rubbing her upper hp.
I glanced at her quickly. "You sound nervous, Mother. Are you?"
She shook her head. "Not nervous. Excited, Robert."
"Oh...."
She pointed. "Take a look at the poster over the door of the building."
I glanced in the direction she was pointing and read the poster. Oriental Weekend, it said. I grabbed Mother's arm. "I thought you said this was Bring a Youth Week, or something like that."
"I must have gotten my weekends mixed up," she confessed. "I'm not sure we should stay, Robert."
I shrugged. "Why not?" I was here now and didn't want to leave because my curiosity was fully aroused. I was wondering if this meant that for the most part Oriental people would be here, and I was also wondering what it would be like to top a Japanese girl, if there were any present. So far, we had seen no one at all. "Shall we go inside the building, Mother?" I asked.
"We might as well. We're here."
We entered and immediately a short, stocky, Oriental man, completely nude and possessing an enormous hard-on approached my mother, paying no attention at all to me.
"Come with me, madame," he said politely. "I am Hu Chou."
Mother didn't say a word but allowed herself to be led off by the gentleman, who was already unashamedly squeezing her ass. I saw them disappear through a doorway and the door swing back in place. I stood there looking around at the place. It appeared to be in a long hallway of sorts with doors leading off it, many of them. The building looked like an old type of auditorium, and I wondered who had built such a place in the country in the first place.
I stepped down the hallway and, acting on impulse, opened a door at random. When I stepped into the large room, I noted immediately that there were no bright lights, only dim ones, but not dim enough to hide the dozen people sitting in a circle on the floor, all of whom were naked. Some of them were in their thirties, but most were younger. One man gestured to me, and I tried to understand what it was he wanted. It dawned on me that he was telling me to take off my clothing, which I did. I felt a little silly standing there in the nude, but this passed after a moment. Two women beckoned to me to come and sit down between them. When I did, the blonde one immediately grabbed my cock and massaged it a bit, enough to make me grow very hard. The other woman stared at my cock and moistened her lips, but after a moment she turned away and the blonde woman bent her head over me and took my cock in her mouth. She sucked it for only a moment and then straightened up.
"Are you ready for the show?" she asked softly.
"What do you mean?" I whispered carefully.
"We move into the center of the circle and perform for the others to watch."
"What sort of performance do you want from me?"
"You just sit with your legs spread and I'll suck you off. That's all you have to do, let me suck you off."
I moistened my dry lips. "And all the others watch us?"
She glanced at me curiously. "Of course. Didn't you know?"
"Y-Yes," I said. "I knew about it, of course." I paused and was astonished at how much I was trembling.
She evidently noticed this. "Maybe you should wait a while. Would that be better for you, sir?"
I glanced at her sharply. No one had ever called me sir before. Grinning slightly, I nodded. "What's your name?"
"We never use names here, sir. You may call me miss."
"Then you aren't married, either?" She hesitated. "No," she said finally. "Are you single?"
"Yes." I studied her and figured out that she wasn't much older than I, perhaps twenty or so. "You're very pretty."
"That doesn't matter," she said. "Unless you're talking about my cunt."
I smiled. "I wasn't talking about your cunt because I haven't seen much of it yet."
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," she said, apologizing. Standing up, she stood with her cunt directly in front of my face. "Would you care to run your tongue over it?"
I noted that several others were watching me now and felt somewhat self-conscious at the moment. "No," I told her. "Later I will. Please sit down and talk to me."
She sank down beside me and placed her hand on my thigh. "You're extremely long," she said, indicating my cock. "I like long ones."
"Thank you."
"Any time you want to use it on me-when you're ready-just tell me what you want."
"I'll remember that."
"Everyone here has the right to do anything," she added.
"That sounds agreeable," I returned.
"That's how everyone is around here."
I cleared my throat. "I understood this was Oriental week, yet I don't see any Orientals."
"That's being held in one of the other rooms."
I changed the subject. "Please take hold of my deal again. I liked the feel of your hand."
Without any hesitation she reached over and began to jack me gently. I squirted a little into her hand, and was surprised when she raised her hand to her mouth and licked up my fluid. I say I was surprised. I meant to say I was flabbergasted. That anyone could do a thing like that with other people watching was a bit more than I had imagined possible. There was something about the act, however, that released me from my previous uneasy feeling. I whispered in her ear: "If you'd like to put on a show now, I'm ready."
"Good. But, we don't call it 'putting on a show.' It's simply show."
"I see. Anyhow, I'm ready if you are."
"We can't right now. That other couple is taking the center of the circle, as you can see."
There was a man and girl already sitting down in the center of the gathering, and I immediately saw that he had a hard-on of enormous proportions. Seeing him made me all the harder, and watching the lust in the other girl's eyes set me off even more, and I began to squirt in "my" girl's hand again. She bent her head swiftly and allowed me to go off a little into her mouth. She licked my top clean and straightened up with a smile.
"You taste so good."
"Thanks," I replied, feeling slightly ridiculous again.
"Look," she said, grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. "Looks like they're going to have a sado show."
"A what?"
"Just watch. This can get good."
I turned my attention to the couple in the center of the circle and, as I did so, I saw the man strike the girl on the buttocks with a savage-looking whip.
"Oh, delicious!" the girl beside me cried softly. "Marvelous! He's going to punish her into an orgasm!"
I sat there and watched the most incredible thing I had ever seen. The man was middle-aged and the girl young. He struck her with such force that the sound of the whip alone made me wince. The girl's body fairly leaped into the air each time he whipped her. She shrieked with pain and pleasure, and while he whipped her, I saw him spraying great quantities of milk from his hardened penis, the fluid flying about the circle and striking some of the people sitting there watching the scene. These people would applaud the man whenever he applied a devastating blow to the girl's body. The louder she shrieked, the more the watchers would nod their heads and murmur words of encouragement. It got to be a bit much for me, and I finally turned my head.
"Does it bother you?" the girl beside me asked in my ear. "No matter. It bothered me a bit the first time. You'll learn to love it."
"How about you and I going to another room?"
"All right," she said. "If you want to, fine." She got to her feet and so did I. "Bring your clothing with you," she suggested. "Otherwise it may become lost."
I picked up my clothes. "You lead the way," I told her, smiling at her.
"Certainly, sir. Come this way."
I followed her out of the door amid the shrieking and screaming of "tortured delight" from the girl and soon found myself in another room that was also dimly lighted.
"Don't they ever turn on the lights here?" I asked the girl.
"Sometime, yes," she replied. "Why? Would you like a better view of my cunt?"
I grinned. "Could be," I said. "Why don't you lie down on the carpet and spread your legs. I'll examine your cunt with my cock."
She clapped her hands. "Oh, good," she said. "That's the way I like to hear a man talk." She dropped to the carpet and spread her legs wide. "Come on. Get on top of me and ram your cock up into me! I'm waiting for you."
I dropped down on top of her and did as she asked. I buried my hard-on into her wet cunt as far as it would go. I pumped and blew off immediately.
"Please do it again," she begged.
"Happy to," I said, and began to unmercifully pump at her cunt with all the energy I possessed, which was considerable.
"Please," she said, in a begging tone, "spit in my mouth while you screw me."
So I spat into her mouth, our lips fiercely clinging together, while my tube drained juice into her cunt at the same time. She chewed my lips up pretty good then, and finally I had to pull my bleeding mouth from hers.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS PERHAPS TWO HOURS LATER THAT I looked for Mother and finally found her sitting in the car in the courtyard. I climbed in beside her.
"Why are you here?" I asked. "Didn't you enjoy your experience with the Japanese?"
She groaned. "My asshole, dear. Those Oriental gentleman, my goodness. All they wanted to do was to run it in my ass. I swear, there must have been a dozen pricks stuck up my asshole since we came here. I'm so sore I can barely sit down. Take me home, Robert. I need treatment for my poor, inflamed anus."
I smiled, said nothing, and drove her home as rapidly as I could. Inside the house, she disappeared into her room, and it wasn't until long past midnight that she came downstairs and spoke to me.
"I'm so sore, dear. My rear is paining me terribly."
I thought I'd tease her a little. "Want me to call a doctor, Mother, have him examine it?"
She gave me a curious look. "Certainly not, Robert. Whatever are you talking about? I do want you to do one thing for me, however."
"All right. What?"
"Call up Abbie and have her come over and bring her father."
"At this time of night?"
"Certainly. Mr. LeBlanc told me to call him at any hour any time."
"Are you joking?"
Her lips set. "I definitely am not joking. By the way, how did you make out at Sexualis, Incorporated?"
"I did all right."
"Did you find a nice, willing little girl, dear?"
"Yes."
"Don't you want to talk about it?"
"Perhaps later. Shall I call Abbie now?"
"Yes. Unless of course you want to gratify your poor old mother."
Poor old mother? I had never heard her call herself that before. "You just told me you were sore," I said lamely, mot wanting to have anything to do with her at the moment, and hoping to remind her that she was in no shape to indulge.
"Very well, call your girl and her father."
"I just happened to think, Mother," I said slowly. "Abbie's angry at me. I don't believe I should call her. I doubt that she'd even talk to me now."
Her finger shot to her upper lip and she rubbed it fiercely. "Whatever is she angry at you for? What happened?"
"She brought a homosexual cousin of hers over and he ... well, she got angry when the three of us had a bit of a go at it in bed."
Her jaw went slack. "You had her and a homosexual at the same time. How very exciting."
"Abbie thought it would be, too, at first, but later on, after it had happened, she got annoyed with me, angry, I mean, as I just said."
"What a terribly silly thing for her to do, dear. You just go and call her up and apologize to her."
"Apologize to her? What for? She should apologize to me, if anything."
"Girls, my dear, never apologize for anything. It's the men who must always do the apologizing."
"I don't see why."
"Because girls are children, dear boy. Women are children. There, I said it. However, it's true. You might as well know it now as find out about it later. All females are still children, and playing at being grownups. Now ... go and call her and apologize. A nice apology to a female is all it ever takes."
"Thanks for the vital information," I said drily.
"Quite all right," she said, sniffing. "But don't you ever dare throw that back in my face, Robert. I shall be most angry if you attempt it."
"I'll try to remember not to."
"On second thought," she said, drawing her red robe about her body more securely, "perhaps it would be better not to call. I don't mean about apologizing. I mean about asking Mr. LeBlanc to come over. I do feel terribly sore between my legs. I think that...."
I waited for her to go on, but she didn't. "Your Japanese friends must have really given you a rough time tonight," I said at length.
"Japanese? Oh, did I say that? They were Chinese. Yes, they did give me a rough time, or should I say a hard time? My goodness, but those Oriental men have large ones. They're very brutal about it, too. I loved it at first, but after a half-dozen of them got to me, every one of them ramming it into my ass and going off after hurting me terribly ... Well, I found it quite tiresome. Perhaps I'm getting old. Nothing seems to satisfy me for long any more. Do you suppose there comes a time when a person can no longer be gratified?"
"That's the first time you've ever asked me anything," I observed, "but since you asked, I'll try to answer. Yes, I think there does come a time when you've had so much of it that you need to take a rest."
"Nonsense," she said irritably. "What utter nonsense." She flounced up the stairs, disappearing into her room.
"My mother," I muttered softly, "is a damned odd woman."
Later, in my own bed, I awakened with a tremendous hard-on and went to my mother's room, crawled between her large, loving legs and screwed her wetly. She must have taken some sleeping pills because she didn't wake up while I gave it to her. It was strange to screw a woman-especially one's own mother-and not have her wake up. I rather liked it and made up my mind to keep a close watch over her, and the next time she took pills I would do a repeat. I returned to my room and slept soundly the remainder of the night.
The following Monday, as I left the school building, I happened to catch sight of Abbie walking alone on the opposite side of the street. I ran across the street to join her. She looked up at me in a startled way, as if she hadn't heard me approach.
"Oh ... Robert ... it's you." Her tone was cold.
"Come off it, Abbie. Why be mad at me?"
She walked along for several steps without replying. "Alfie's gone home, back to his home, I mean."
"The hell with Alfie. Why are you still mad at me?"
She hesitated just long enough to cause me some anxiety, and then glanced up at me and smiled. "I'm not mad at you now, Robert." She took my hand and squeezed it. "Come over to the house with me. My father isn't at home and we...."
I gave her hand a squeeze. "Fine. I've missed you, Abbie."
She giggled. "You've missed sticking it into my cunt, you mean."
"Yes, but I've missed you, too, honest."
She stopped in her tracks and giggled again. "Wonder what you'd do if I lifted my skirt here on the street and asked you to stick it in. What would you do, Robert?"
I laughed. "I'd think it a delightful idea but a bit nutty."
She sighed and walked along the street again with me holding her hand. "I guess it would be nutty. We can wait till we get to my house."
"Sure we can."
"Have you been screwing your mother much lately?"
This astonished me, and I felt my face redden. "I don't hear you speak like that very often. What's come over you, Abbie?"
"I feel reckless and restless today, I guess. I feel like doing something terribly wild."
"Such as what?" I gave her moist hand another squeeze.
She didn't answer me directly. "I had a dream last night," she told me. "In it I was sucking off a midget. Can you imagine that?"
Playfully, I bent my knees and walked hunched over. "Look, I'm not very tall. I'm practically a midget myself."
She giggled again. "Oh, Robert, I like you so much. You're such a nice boy."
We walked until we came to the corner where we turned and went to her house. She led me around to the rear and unlocked the door. We entered and she snapped the lock on.
"Why'd you lock it?" I asked.
"My father makes me do it. He's afraid I might get raped when he isn't at home."
I grinned. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"
She put her arms about my neck and pressed her front against mind. "Depends on who wanted to do the raping, honey."
"I'm ready," I said, grinning and patting her on the butt.
She appeared not to hear me. "Robert," she said, "do you ever feel funny about having incestuous relationships with your mother?"
I didn't know what to say for a moment. Then:
"I don't know as I've thought about it lately. Why do you ask?"
"I've been thinking about it a lot lately," she replied. "I think my father is spoiling me, somehow."
"You mean you like him better than, say, me?"
"I'm not sure what I mean. One thing I know: I can have sex with him and know I don't have to get deeply involved."
"And you're afraid you might become that way with me?"
"I don't want to become seriously involved with anyone, Robert. I want to be free, always."
"It all depends on what you mean by freedom. Lots of times people who want to be free are just selfish and don't want to share any of themselves with anyone else."
"You really believe that?"
"I think I do."
"It's awful to be so young and dumb, isn't it, Robert?"
"Yes, it is. Still, my mother isn't young, but she's dumb about some things, so maybe being older doesn't help."
"My father is terribly dumb about some things, too. What's the answer to ... things, Robert?"
"What things?"
She broke away from me. "Oh, I don't know. All I know is that I'm seventeen and bored to hell and gone. Why should that be?"
"Do you say it's because of incest?"
She turned and looked at me straight in the eye without blinking. "I could be, Robert." She paused. "I sometimes think that's the reason you and I are drawn to each other. Our parents, your mother and my father ... well, maybe they exploit us all the time. What do you think?"
"I agree with you. But I don't like to talk about it."
"Why not?" She came back and put her arms around me and buried her face against my chest.
"I can't speak for you, Abbie, but in my case I was perfectly willing to have an incestuous relationship ... so it's partly my fault if anything goes wrong, not that I think it will."
"Robert," she said thoughtfully, "have you ever considered the fact that you'll never be able to marry anyone except me?"
"That suits me fine: you, I mean."
"You didn't answer my question."
I squirmed a bit. "What makes you ask it?"
"Look, you have an incestuous relationship with your mother. What if you should marry some other girl someday. Would you be able to tell her about yourself and your mother?"
"No."
"And neither would I be able to tell my husband if he was someone other than you. Don't you see? If either of us ever gets married, it'll have to be to each other."
I smiled now. "Well, that wouldn't be so bad, would it?"
"Don't you ever get serious, Robert?" she asked reproachfully.
"Sometimes. But why are you so serious today?"
"Because I'm bored."
"What do you want to do?" I asked jokingly. "Run away and get married?"
She amazed me. "Yes," she said. "Right now.'?
"You're kidding!"
"No, I'm not kidding. My father has plenty of money right here in the house. In the safe. I know how to open it. We'll take it and the car and drive to another state and lie about our ages. It's done all the time, Robert. We could get away with it."
"I don't want to do that, Abbie. That's stealing."
She broke away from me. "So it's stealing. Is that any worse then climbing on top of your mother every time she screams for you to?"
That shook me up. "No, I suppose not."
"Let's face it, Robert. Your mother is selfish, and so is my father. Neither of them have remarried because they don't want to put up with a wife or husband. They've got us, Robert. We satisfy them and get nothing in return."
"I wouldn't say that. You've told me you like having your father do it to you."
"Our parents, your mother and my father ... well, they're using us, Robert, using us and neither of them care what happens to us later on in life."
"What's going to happen. They aren't going to tell anyone and we don't have to, either, so who's to know about what we're doing?"
"Things like this always get out. People find out about it sooner or later."
I rubbed my ear. "I wish you'd get off this serious stuff. I'm not in the mood for it. I came here to have fun with you."
"Sure, sure," she said bitterly. "Lie down and screw. That takes care of everything, doesn't it?"
"It takes care of an awful lot, Abbie, and you know it does."
"It's terrible to be so young and unimportant," she said impulsively.
I shook my head. "No, it isn't, Abbie. It's great to be young and unimportant."
She flashed me an odd look. "How can you say such a stupid thing?"
"But it's not stupid. It's smart."
She came closer but didn't put her arms around me. "I don't see how."
"It's great to be young and unimportant because when you are both you can have lots more fun, Abbie. If you're older and important that means you have a lot of responsibility all of the time. You have to work at jobs you may not like in order to support someone else. You have to worry about other people."
"You seem to think that having fun is the only thing in life."
"If you can't have fun, you can't have anything."
She put her arms around me. "I swear, I don't know what's wrong with me today. Maybe you'd better screw me and screw me good. Maybe that'll fix me up, make me feel better."
"I'd be happy to try," I said, grinning. Still, I thought it odd that a moment ago she had complained about the very thing she was now wanting. Perhaps that's the way it is when you're a girl, I reflected. "Shall we journey to your bedroom, fair lass?"
"Did you say lass or ass, sir?" she replied, smiling at me, "as I have the latter."
"You seem to have gotten over your morbid point of view."
Her blue eyes stared at me. "Oh, did you think I was being morbid?"
"Somewhat. Your room, Abbie?"
"My father won't be home tonight. Let's get drunk and sleep together all night, Robert."
"All right, but I'll have to call my mother. You know how she is, expects me home right after school every day."
She sighed. "Yes, I know how she is."
"Tell me something, Abbie. How did you get started with your father? I mean, how did it come about?"
"Sit down and I'll tell you. First, I'll steal us a couple of drinks from his bottle." She got the drinks and brought them back. I sat down and looked at her. "It happened when I was twelve. My mother had been dead for three years and my father was getting quieter and quieter every day."
I moved over to the sofa and lay down and motioned for her to sit beside me. "I like it better this way," I told her. "Now go ahead and tell me the rest of it."
She smiled and patted the front of my trousers. "I know what you have in mind, Robert," she said. "All right, where was I?"
"You were twelve years old," I offered.
"Oh yes. Well my father was becoming very withdrawn, and one night he had a few too many and came and got in bed with me. I was scared stiff for a few moments, and then I got over my fear. I began playing with his prick and I remember how thrilled it made me when I felt him getting hard. He kept muttering something or other about it being wrong, but I kept right on playing with him, and after a time he blew off a little. This excited the hell out of me and do you know what I did, Robert?"
I shook my head.
"I took his prick in my mouth and sucked him off."
"Whew, that was getting with it in a hurry for a twelve-year-old."
"Yes, my father sobered up in a hurry, too. He became very excited and I knew he was all mixed up. Imagine, I was only twelve, but I knew more about what was happening than he did at the moment."
"Was that all there was to it?"
"For a few minutes. We just lay there side by side while he regained his breath. I knew one thing. I wanted more of it. So I began to play with him again. He knocked my hand away at first, but I persisted, and pretty soon he was as hard as a rock again. I moved my body over against his and actually tried to insert him into my cunt. He pulled away and told me he was going back to his bed. When he was gone, I lay there for a long time feeling horrible. Then a wave of passion swept over me, and I got out of bed and went to his room. He was lying in his bed, one arm behind his head. I told him I was cold, that I wanted to sleep with him. He never said a word, so I climbed in beside him, waited a little while, and then started playing with his prick again. Once again it got hard, and this time I knew he was going to take me. I could feel it inside, and I don't mean that as a pun. I...."
I laughed. "I think I know how you felt, Abbie. Sounds familiar to me."
"Well, my father told me to go away and leave him alone. He said what I'd done was terrible, but I knew he didn't mean it. I may have been only twelve, but I was a smart kid about some things. I told him to relax, maybe not in those words, but that's what I meant. He just grunted when I took his prick in my mouth and began to suck on it. First thing I knew he had grabbed me and flung me over on my back. I remember I closed my eyes when he crawled on top of me and stabbed me with his hard, long cock. Boy, it hurt, but only at first. He had a lot of trouble getting it all the way in. I had never known this sort of thing before, of course, and I suppose I was awfully small and tight, my cunt, I mean. Well, anyway he pushed and shoved, and I tried to make myself bigger, and finally I became very moist down there and he slipped the long tube all the way in."
"How did it feel?"
"Like I said, it hurt a lot at first, but then it began to feel terrific. He pumped that hard thing into me like a man gone berserk, and later I knew he was almost at the point of cracking up. He really was. He'd been without sex for so long that it nearly drove him crazy. He blew into me over and over and didn't stop pumping it. I guess he must have filled my cunt up but good because I later felt the bed near my butt and it was soaked; and yet I had all of his cream inside me, or at least an awful lot of it. When I finally got out of bed to go to the bathroom, it ran down my legs, both of them, all the way to my feet. I remember how I felt when I was in the bathroom cleaning up."
"How did you feel then?" I asked.
"If I tell you, you'll probably laugh."
"No, I won't. Tell me how you felt."
"I had a wish," she replied. "A real strange wish."
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. "And what was your wish, Abbie."
She giggled. "I wish my father had ten pricks. One wasn't enough for me."
CHAPTER FIVE
I PUT MY ARM ABOUT HER AND DREW her close. "You seemed to have been pretty much the aggressor in the beginning," I remarked. "Did you keep on doing it, or did your father then start making his demands on you."
"That's the funny thing. Later on, during the next week or two, I was terribly ashamed of my actions. I couldn't look my father in the eye. That's when he started being the aggressor. He didn't come near me for those two weeks, and then one time he had a few too many drinks and awakened me in the middle of the night. I'll never forget that night. I think I had been dreaming, and when I woke up and discovered a hand on my pussy and a finger inside of me wiggling around, I was scared for a moment. That feeling passed-I knew it was my father, of course, though it was very dark in the room-and I became very passionate toward him."
"What did you do?" I asked eagerly.
"Well, what would you expect me to do? I did it to him. I mean, I lay there and let him do it to me."
"And did you enjoy it as much as the first time."
"After he got started, after he got it into me I did. At first, I felt, well, ashamed of myself all over again, but what girl can stay ashamed when there's a hot, hard cock rammed up her cunt and working in and out and rubbing the little button?"
"I don't know," I said with a grin. "I'm not a girl. Tell me more about it."
"You really like hearing about it, don't you, Robert?"
"Yes. Makes me hot."
She giggled. "Makes me hot just talking about it."
"How many times did he screw you this time?"
"Oh, I don't remember. He just kept on pumping me for a long, long time. I guess I must have had three or four orgasms, all of them simply terrific. I was as weak as a kitten when I felt him releasing his hot juice in me the first time."
I took her hand and pressed it to the front of me. "Feel that? That's what your story has done to me, Abbie."
She paid no attention to what I'd said but went on with her story. "I'll never forget the time my father came home from work and caught me taking a bath in the tub. He didn't know I was in the tub, but came up only to wash. When he burst through the door and saw me all naked and everything and bathing myself, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. He excused himself, though we had already done it a great many times, and he got all red and everything, but I noticed he took a long time in washing his hands. Then, when he had dried them, he turned around and looked at me. I looked right back at him and smiled, because I knew what he was thinking about and so I was very hot all of a sudden. He came over and leaned down and took hold of one of my breasts and told me I was a very pretty girl. Imagine, having your own father say and do a thing like that at the same time. Well, it got me all worked up, especially when he got down on his knees and unzipped his pants. I glanced over the side of the tub and saw his big prick standing straight up and bubbling a bit, and I laughed and reached over and touched him there. He blew a little and the stuff ran right up my arm. Boy, was I excited, and you should have seen the strained, tight look on his face. He looked like a small boy with his first shot at sex about to take place. He told me I was a hot little girl and that he knew he was a very bad man for doing this sort of thing to me. I told him I didn't mind, that I liked it, that I liked him, too. I told him that all the girls at school talked about sex all the time but that I didn't believe any of them had ever had any, not the way I had. He seemed to like hearing this from me, and the next thing I knew he had climbed into the tub with his clothes on and was stabbing away at my wet old cunt like crazy. He got it into me and darned near drowned me at the same time. Boy, was that great. I thought my father was never going to stop screwing me."
I cleared my throat. "If you keep on telling me about your father, I'm going to have a happening in my pants, Abbie."
She laughed. "Help yourself."
"I just may," I told her, grinning. "Another time, when I was fourteen," she went on, "I had my first date with a boy. I wasn't at all sure my father wanted me to have that date, but it was for the freshmen dance, and he couldn't very well object. The boy's name? Well, that doesn't matter-he doesn't live in this town any more. After the dance, because of my background with my father, I really expected the boy to screw me. We parked in the car down the street, but all he did was put his arm around me and kiss me on the cheek. This really bothered me. I finally grabbed hold of his dong and he almost fainted. Boy, you never saw any guy get so excited; trouble was, he blew off in his pants, said good night to me and practically pushed me out of the car. What a jerk he was. Imagine, a boy doing a thing like that. I had to walk the rest of the way home, and when my father let me in, I dropped to my knees and begged him to let me suck him off. He was sober at the time-not that he gets drunk very often, he doesn't-and it surprised him like crazy, I think. He picked me up and carried me to my room and placed me down on the bed and asked me what had come over me. I told him about the boy, only I omitted the part about my grabbing hold of him first. I guess my father thought the boy had tried to rape me, because he became furious and I had a hard time calming him down. He wanted to know where that boy lived, but I never told him. Anyway, I begged him to give me a little, and he stroked his chin thoughtfully and told me he thought he should stop doing what we'd been doing. I knew he didn't mean it, that he was only telling me this so that later on I couldn't come back at him and accuse him of ruining my life and all that rot. So ... I just told him that I loved him and that I needed to be screwed real often. He sighed and told me to wait till he put on his pajamas, so I did."
"What happened then?"
"Well, he became very wild and did the damnedest thing. Instead of waiting till I got undressed, too, he just stood there and jacked off in my face."
I smiled. "How did you like that?"
"It took me by surprise. I have to admit I liked it. It was so wild and strange. Of course, I didn't get an orgasm out of it, but I really got excited, and then when he threw himself on top of me and ripped my pants off and stuck it in ... well, then I really had an orgasm-the best one I had ever had. Do you know what my father did while he was screwing me, Robert?"
"Tell me."
"He licked up his own juice from my face. Wow!"
I recalled how Mr. LeBlanc had gone down on me at my mother's house, the same time she had gone down on Abbie. "Do you remember what your father did to me at our house that night?" I asked her.
She giggled. "Of course I do. I also remember your mother running her hot tongue up my cunt. Boy, did we have a wild time that night."
"But that's just the trouble," she replied. "They're too damned wild. They make all other sexual activities seem mild by comparison."
"You mean I don't compare with your father?" I asked, hurt.
"I didn't mean that. It's just that ... well, I have a right to expect you, my boy friend, to want to screw me. Every girl wants and expects that, or at least that the guy will attempt to ... but your father ... that's something different. When your own father does it to you all the time...." She sighed. "I'll never be able to explain it. Not ever. It's just too wild for words."
"You forget that I, too, am in the same situation. My mother expects me to lay her every day, twice a day, sometimes three times."
I had no more than said this when the phone rang. Right away I knew it was my mother calling.
"Shall I answer it, Robert?" Abbie asked.
"No. It'll be Mother wanting to know why I haven't come straight home from school. Don't answer it."
She appeared doubtful. "It might be Dad calling me, Robert. I'd better answer."
I sighed. "All right, Abbie, answer it. If it's my mother, tell her you left me on the street and that I should be home any time now."
She went to the phone and listened.
"No, he's not at home today, Mr. Chou." (I pricked up my ears at that name.) "He'll be back either tomorrow or the next day ... what? ... I'm quite all right, Mr. Chou. No, there's no need for that. I'm not afraid to stay alone. Thank you just the same. Good-bye, and thank you again." She hung up and came back to the sofa.
"That Mr. Chou," I said. "I think I may have seen him before. My mother and I went to this place in the country, and there was a Mr. Chou, a Chinese man, who seemed to know my mother, or if he didn't, he got acquainted with her farily fast."
"Yes, your mother told my father about it. Mr. Chou owns that place. He was the one who got my father to go there in the first place."
"What did he want to do, Abbie, come over and keep you company?"
She laughed. "Yes, Mr. Chou is very much taken with me, I'm afraid, or with anything female. He's the horniest man you ever saw."
I was just a bit jealous now. "How do you know that?"
"Don't worry. I haven't had anything to do with him, but he lives next door and leaves his shades up at night. He's always walking around naked and with a hard-on. Besides that, I can tell he's horny by the way he stares at my legs all the time."
"Does my mother call your father up?" I asked, surprised at hearing this.
"Lately she has. Didn't she tell you?"
"No."
Abbie screwed up her face. "Well, that's how parents are. They don't tell you much but want to know everything that's happened to you. Every time I'm with you my father wants to know all about it. He makes me tell him the details."
"I can't say as I blame him there. I like to hear the details of your affairs with him. Tell me more about him."
"There was one time I got a little high from stealing some of his whiskey, and he came home and caught me lying naked on the sofa. Want me to tell you about it, Robert?"
"Yes," I said eagerly. "I get a terrific bang out of hearing you talk about your father."
"Will you tell me about you and your mother sometime if I do?"
"Sure."
"Of course there's nothing very startling about him catching me naked. He was always doing that, but this time I was in the act of playing with myself."
"You were masturbating?"
"Yes. I was rubbing myself off with my fingers."
I smiled. "How does that feel?"
"So so. It's better'n nothing, that's about all I can say for it."
"What did your father do when he saw you?"
"He told me it was a lousy thing to do. Said I was wasting myself and that I should have waited till he got home. He pulled out his prick and showed it to me. I told him I'd be happy to have him stick it into me, but he said he had a yen for cornholing me. Well, I'd never been cornholed, so you can imagine how scared that made me, even though I was high."
"Did he actually cornhole you, Abbie?"
"He certainly did. Wow, how that hurt at first, but I kind of liked it. It was wild, believe me, Robert."
"How did he do it? I mean how did you go about it?"
"He yanked his pants down to his knees and sat down on the floor. Then he grabbed me and pulled me down to him and made me sit on it. Whew! Sitting down with my asshole going around that big cock of his was really something. I thought he'd kill me with it, it was so rock-like. I...."
"You got excited?"
"Yes, and scared, too. I was afraid he might do some damage to me internally."
"Did it really hurt that much?"
"No, not really. Not after he got the head of his prong in me. That made me flow a lot, and this lubricated it; and when I eased myself all the way down, it was in me all the way, rammed up my asshole as far as it could go."
"If you were sitting on your father's cock, how could he move?"
"He grabbed me just above the hips and made me bob up and down. When I made a wrong move, it hurt like hell, so I quickly learned to go up and down in a straight line, so to speak. My father was so hot he couldn't prolong it. He blew his sap up my ass in no time at all. Boy, he really filled me with the stuff. It seemed to flow and flow as though he had a gallon of it stored away somewhere. I tell you, Robert, it felt beautiful. Strange as it may sound, even though he had his prong in my asshole, it caused me to have a quick succession of orgasms. I've wanted to try it like that ever since, but never have."
I swallowed hard. "I'll get on the floor and take my pants down, and you can sit on me, Abbie. I'd be glad to ram it up your ass."
Her eyes became very bright. "Al right, Robert. Let me get my pants off."
I got down on the floor in just the manner she had described and sat there, my prick sticking straight up. My pants and shorts were down to my knees, and she looked at my cock for a long moment.
"You have a pretty one, Robert," she remarked, yanking off her panties. "A very pretty one."
"Sit on it," I begged. "Sit on my cock."
She smiled tensely and, getting down on her knees, straddled my body and took my cock in her hand and steered it to the lips of her asshole. Then she lowered herself, and little by little I felt and saw my prong enter her anus.
It was very warm inside of her at this tender spot.
"Do you like the feel of it, Robert?" she asked breathlessly. "Yes."
She sat down all the way, doing it slowly and carefully. I felt as if my prong was caught in some kind of tight, warm trap, but it felt damned good, even maddening.
She began to move up and down, and every time she did I drew in my breath sharply.
"You're cornholing me, Robert," she husked, her eyes tightly closed.
"Open your eyes, Abbie. I want you to look at me.
She opened her eyes and bent over slightly so that our faces were only inches apart.
"Fill my ass, honey!" she cried. "Fill it with your hot milk!"
I pulled her sweater over her head with some difficulty and tore her bra from her body. Then I grabbed her breasts and held them firmly, stroking them, pulling on them, while she went up and down and literally jacked me off with her asshole. I blew into her hard and long, and she cried out weakly but kept on with it until every last drop of my fluid was trapped in her body.
She lifted herself quickly, my cock dropping out of her ass, and then she tucked it into her cunt and sat down on me again.
She bent over and ran her tongue over my lips, my teeth, and my own tongue.
I grinned weakly. "Your cunt wants equal time, I take it."
She smiled tensely. "Right. It demands to be equalized."
I flipped her over on her back and began to pump it into her box, but it was at that precise moment that the doorbell rang. I kept on pumping, but she had stiffened her body, and now I noticed she was trying to push me off her.
"Never mind the doorbell, Abbie," I muttered.
"I can see him through the window, Robert. Let me up. It's Hu Chou. If I don't let him in...."
"The hell with him."
"I have to go to the door, Robert."
Reluctantly, even sulkily, I removed myself from her, pulled up my pants, zipped them and went over and slumped down on the sofa while she yanked up her panties, smoothed down her hair and went to the door.
The next thing I knew the Chinese gentleman was in the room and addressing me. I looked up at him, got to my feet. "Hello, sir," I said, frowning a bit. "I remember you."
"To be sure, young man. You have a most delightful mother. May I congratulate you?"
"Thank you."
He smiled and turned to Abbie, who stood nearby, her face sweaty and quite red. "I was just passing by and thought I would stop in and see if you were all right, Miss LeBlanc. I couldn't help seeing what you two were doing on the floor, and I must say it caused me to be rather, shall I say warm? If you have no objections, I'd like to remain while you finish the most interesting ... operation."
"Well, sir...." Abbie began but stopped.
I got to my feet slowly. "I think Abbie, Miss LeBlanc, would prefer it if you left, sir."
My remark didn't offend him in the least. He merely smiled, bowed and said, "The young lady you met at my establishment, Robert. (So he knew my name.) She's at my house now. She'd like to see you again ... now. I'd like very much to extend an invitation to both of you to pay a visit to my humble home."
I glanced at Abbie and saw the wild excitement in her eyes. I thought about the lovely girl I had met at the Sexualis, Incorporated. I turned my eyes in the direction of the man, and then studied Abbie's face.
"It's up to you, Abbie. He's your neighbor. What do you say?"
"Oh , Robert ... let's go over to Hu Chou's place I'd love to see ... it."
"If you want to go, Abbie, please do so. However, I think it's time for me to be getting home. My ... er ... mother will be wondering where I am."
"Robert," she said, "please come with us."
I didn't care for the way she used the word "us", so I shook my head, smiled at her, bowed to the Chinese gentleman and left. The truth was, I was annoyed at Abbie for being so eager to go to his place even though we had been in the middle of a sex act. If she preferred going next door and having the Chinese stab her cunt, then let her do so.
When I arrived home, my mother was lying half-naked on the sofa, having her usual cocktail.
"Hello, Mother," I said.
"Hello, dear. Wherever have you been? I was about to call the police or someone. I thought sure my boy had gotten run over by a car. Why didn't you tell me you were going to remain after school."
"I didn't remain after school."
Her dark eyes took on a glint and she half-arose from the sofa. "Then where, may I ask, have you been for the past two hours?"
"With a friend." I said listlessly.
"Not with a girl, I hope. You know I expect you to come home immediately to satisfy my needs, dear."
"Yes, I know."
"Then why didn't you?"
"I was with a friend."
"Have you been fornicating with your friend Abbie?" I nodded.
She drew in her breath and let it out slowly. "Am I to suppose that you blew it all into her silly little cunt and saved nothing for your poor old mother?"
"I'm afraid so, Mother."
A look of exasperation came over her handsome face. "I must say, I'm most annoyed, Robert. You're all the man I have, you know. I need your offerings. I don't intend to allow you to squander yourself on some silly little cunt."
"If you don't mind, Mother, I think I'll go up and take a bath."
"By all means," she snapped. "I can actually smell her cunt on you. I find it most repelling."
I went up the stairs slowly, and for the first time in my life I actually hated females, all females, every last one of them.
CHAPTER SIX
I WENT TO SLEEP EARLY, KNOWING that she'd pay me a visit during the night, which she did. I was awakened in the dark by hot hands exploring my body, and, when I was fully alert, I realized she had been drinking heavily and was, in fact, quite drunk. Her breath was strong and the odor of liquor, and her hands were eager and bold. She began kissing my body all over, running her tongue over my flesh in the most maddening manner. I became hard, and she felt it and immediately encircled my prick with her lips and began to suck me as only a drunken, hot woman might do. I tried to pull it away from her, not because I wasn't willing to go off in my mother's mouth, but because I was fed up with females at the moment. When I did yank it out of her mouth, she cried out and reached for my tube again, this time grasping it in her hand. She rubbed it and, with her other hand, cradled my testicles.
"Mother, cut it out," I said, annoyed at her more than ever before.
"My baby boy!" she cried, her voice thick. "Gotta suck off my baby boy. All I got to suck. My baby's cock."
I bounded out of bed and turned on the light.
"Come back," she sobbed. "I need it so."
"Go to hell! Get out of my bed or so help me I'll pick you up and carry you to your own room and lock you in!"
"What'sa matter with my baby boy?" she cried, drooling. "Don' he love his poor old mother any more?"
"Get to your own room, and leave me alone. I'm not in the mood tonight for screwing."
She sat up on the bed and brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and stared at me wildly. "What'sa matter, boy, you drunk?"
"I'm not drunk, but you are. Go back to your own room, please."
"Won't do it. Gotta suck my baby. Gotta be screwed."
I let her have it again, louder this time. "I'm not in the mood for screwing."
She crawled off the bed, stood up momentarily and then collapsed back onto it. "What a terribly filthy thing to say to your own mother. I could just die."
"Then why don't you?" I roared angrily and, while she was sobbing, got dressed hurriedly.
I left the house and began to walk aimlessly along the street, not caring where I went or if I ever returned.
I saw an all-night cafe and went in and ordered a cup of coffee. A faded blonde with big titties waited on me and, as she did so, looked me over speculatively.
"Kind of late for you, ain't it, kid?" She mopped up the counter with a cloth.
"Yes, guess so." I picked up the cup and sipped the coffee. It wasn't bad. "What about it?" I was in no mood for adult questioning.
"Just thought I'd tell you. Fuzz stops in here from time to time. They don't like seeing kids out in the middle of the night."
"Too bad."
"You have a fight with your folks, kid?"
"No." I wished she'd go away and leave me alone.
"I get a lot of kids in here during the night. Mostly it's because they had a fight at home."
"Big deal."
"Don't have to be nasty, kid. Only trying to help."
"Thanks," I said drily, and had another sip of the coffee. "I'm not being nasty."
She leaned over the counter, her large breasts almost popping out from beneath her uniform. "I'll bet I can guess what you've been doing, kid."
Goddamn her. Why couldn't she mind her own business? "So?" I said.
"Bet you've been out looking for a whore. Right?"
I took another sip of coffee. "Wrong. I'm not that hard up."
She laughed. "How old are you, kid?"
"Old enough."
"About sixteen. Right?"
I shook my head. "Wrong again, lady."
"Seventeen?"
I nodded. "Give me change for a dollar. Want to buy a pack of cigarettes."
She took the bill and gave me change. I went over and slipped the right coins into the cigarette machine and got my brand. I came back to the counter and lighted one.
She was still leaning over the counter. "You looking for a whore, kid?"
This really bumped me. "Why? Are you one?"
She grinned and straightened up. "I don't mind picking up a few bucks now and then."
I decided to be as cruel as she was. "You're too old for me, lady."
She didn't even blink. "All right, kid. Tell you what. I got a daughter who likes to make a little money on the side. She's fourteen. That young enough?"
"Is this a cafe or a cathouse?"
"Little of both."
"What about the fuzz you mentioned? Don't they bother you?"
"Not when you give them a little."
"A little what?"
"Whatever they want, money or a piece of ass."
"You say you have a fourteen-year-old daughter. What does she look like?"
"You got ten dollars, kid?"
"Sure." I took another sip of the coffee.
"Give it to me," she said. "And I'll tell her you're coming up to see her."
"You let your kid stay up all night?" I asked sarcastically.
"I'll wake her up for ten dollars."
"You're some gal," I remarked. "You remind me of someone," I added, thinking of my own mother and her selfishness.
"Thanks. Want me to wake up the kid?"
"Sorry. Not interested." I got to my feet. "Your coffee is pretty good. Good night, lady."
"Son of a bitch," she muttered.
I laughed grimly and left the place. I returned immediately. "Lady," I said, "you're right about one thing."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"I am a son of a bitch, literally." I turned about and left the place again and this time kept on walking until I came to the corner.
A car swerved into the curb and stopped. I glanced up and saw two guys in it.
"Hello, baby," one of them called. "Want to take a little ride?"
A couple of homos. "Get lost," I barked. "Beat it."
They swore and drove away, and I crossed the street wondering if everyone in town was anxious about sex this night. I walked for three blocks, turned a corner and found myself on Abbie's street. I stopped, thought for a moment, and then walked on until I was standing in front of her house. There were no lights on in the place, and, remembering that her father wasn't at home, I walked to the rear and tried the door. It was unlocked. Not quite sure that I wanted to enter, that I wanted to see her again, I entered anyhow. I walked to her bedroom and called to her. "Abbie."
I heard the bedsprings creak. "Robert?"
"Yes. Turn on a light, Abbie."
I heard her groaning as she climbed out of bed. The lights came on a moment later and I stared at her in horror. She was marked up and badly bruised, as if she had fallen down a flight of stairs.
"What happened to you?" I asked.
"I fell down the stairs," she replied, but not looking me in the eye.
The coincidence of my thought and her remark was too much to believe. "The hell you did, Abbie. That Chinese bastard beat you up, didn't he?"
"No," she said shortly. "I fell down the cellar steps." She bit her lips. "What are you doing here at this time of night? Is something wrong at your house?"
"My mother is going nuts," I said. "I mean, she's gone nuts."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh ... I don't know what I mean. She's drunk. Acting crazy. Wanting me to ... well, you know."
"Poor Robert," she said sympathetically.
"Poor Abbie, you mean, don't you? From the looks of you. Tell me the truth. Did you really fall down the stairs?"
"Y-Yes."
I considered my next remark briefly. "Did you have fun with the Chink?"
"I didn't do anything with him, Robert. I just went over and saw the inside of his house and met that girl he had there."
"Are you sure?"
"Don't you believe me?"
"All right, I believe you."
"Are you jealous, Robert?"
"Probably."
"Why don't we take the money from my father's safe and run off and get married?"
"No."
"All right, Robert. I won't ask you again. Tell me, did you have a fight with your mother?"
"I hate my mother," I rasped. "Why, Robert?"
"You ought to know. Because ... she robs me of my manhood."
"I see. So that's why you came here in the middle of the night. You wanted to prove you're still a man."
"No. I'm just mixed up at the moment."
She moved away from the bed and passed by me. "I'm going to the bathroom. I won't be gone long."
"Wash some of the blood off your face, Abbie. The blood that was caused by your falling downstairs."
There was sarcasm in my tone, and she stopped and looked at me, searching with her round blue eyes. "Don't you believe that, Robert?"
I shrugged. "Sure. Mind if I have a drink of your father's sauce?"
"Help yourself," she said quietly, and left the room to go to the bathroom.
I groped my way through the living room in the dark until I found a table lamp and turned it on. I had a drink of whiskey from a bottle and then another one. She came into the room and I saw she had slipped a robe on over her nudity.
"Give me the bottle, Robert. I think I need a drink, too."
I gave it to her.
She drank, then capped the bottle and put it down. She was choking somewhat and tears had come to her eyes. "Whew," she gasped. "I almost swallowed it the wrong way."
I said nothing.
A moment later she turned to me. "Robert, why don't you screw me? It'll make you feel better, maybe."
"I'm not in the mood for fornication. My mother sickened me."
She drew in her breath. "Oh, the hell with your mother. Don't let her bother you. Be your own guy."
This surprised me. "Don't you think I am my own guy?"
"Not the way you're acting." She bit her lips hard. "I have a feeling about you, Robert. I don't think your mother sickened you at all. I think you want to pout."
I started to get mad but managed to hold my temper. "Think whatever you choose, Abbie. But you're mistaken. Another thing-I might as well say it before I leave-I don't believe you fell down the stairs. I think that Chink beat you up in some weird kind of sex deal ... and I also believe that you liked it but are ashamed to admit it to me."
She shrugged. "Believe whatever you like, Robert."
I got to my feet and looked at her. "Good night, Abbie."
"Good night, Robert."
I left through the rear door and walked around the house to the front just in time to see the lights being turned off inside. I muttered something vague and started down the street, having no idea of where I was going and caring less. I saw a light come on at the house next door, and I glanced up at it quickly-it was the porch light, I saw. Someone was opening the door and a moment later I saw the Chinese thrusting his head and shoulders through the doorway.
"Boy," he called. "Come here."
"Go to hell," I called back, and kept on walking. I glanced back at the place when I had covered about half a block and saw the porch light go off. "Son of a bitch," I muttered. "I'd like to bust your head."
I turned at the next corner and headed back for the cafe-there seemed to be no other place I could go. When I arrived there, the blonde woman was sitting behind the counter reading a magazine, business not being very good, apparently.
I had no clear idea of why I did what I did, but I walked in and sat down. "I've got ten bucks," I told her. "Where's the kid?"
She became all smiles. "Decided you'd like a little after all, I see. Fine. Give me the money."
I handed a ten-dollar bill to her. I was curious to see if she really had a fourteen-year-old daughter. Something seemed to tell me that she was the one who would perform the act for a ten-spot and not her daughter. She motioned for me to follow her to the rear of the cafe and I did so.
"Aren't you afraid to leave the place unattended?" I asked as she held a curtain aside so I could enter the rear room.
"Won't be anyone around at this hour. But maybe I'd better go back and lock the door, just to play it safe."
I waited for her to lock the door, and when she had come back, she again motioned for me to follow her, this time up a short flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs she stopped and opened a door.
"Come in, I'll have to wake the kid."
She flicked on a light, and sure enough, there was a young girl sleeping on a bed. The blonde woman went over to the bed and shook the girl.
"Wake up, Lenza. I got a John for you, baby."
The girl was quite pretty, brown-haired and small for her age. She sat up and blinked her eyes. "What did you say, Mother?"-
"There's a boy who's going to sleep with you for a while. Are you awake?"
"Yes." The girl turned her brown eyes on me. "Hello."
"Hello," I said, excitement mounting in me.
"I'll leave you two alone," the blonde woman said, and did so quickly, closing the door after her.
I looked at the girl gravely. "Sure you want to do this, Lenza?"
She blinked and smiled nicely at the same time. "Sure. Why not?"
"Are you doing this because your mother told you to?"
"Sure. Why not? She's good to me, buys me lots of pretty things."
"You mean you're willing to be a whore because your mother buys you things?"
She smiled nicely. "Nothing wrong with being a whore. My mother was a whore for years. Matter of fact, I was a trick-baby."
"What's that?"
"I never knew who my father was and neither did my mother."
"You mean some John happened to...?"
"Sure. That's what a trick-baby is. The whore gets careless and then she gets pregnant, but there's no way of knowing who did it. It might have been one of a dozen men."
I was flabbergasted. This kid apparently thought no more of this, or of telling it to me, than she would have of going to a football game and telling the results of it.
"You're quite a kid," I remarked, and meant it.
"Thanks. And you're a nice-looking boy."
I grinned. It was the first time I had felt halfway good all evening. "Thank you," I said.
"I mean it. I think you're handsome."
I went over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Mind pulling the sheet down a bit?" I asked as casually as I could.
"Want to see what I got?"
"I want to look at you, Lenza."
"I ain't got nothing on."
I smiled. "Don't apologize for that. It's the way I like to see a girl."
She shoved the sheet down, exposing her small bosom. Her breasts were firm-looking and stood straight out. The nipples were tiny and pink. "You like 'em?" she asked. "I'd like to touch them."
"You bought 'em, help yourself, handsome boy."
I ran my hands over her breasts while she sat there and silently watched me. I squeezed them gently and then ran my hands down her body to her cunt. I inserted a digit and fingered her for a moment. Nothing happened to me. I was as soft as could be.
"Is something wrong?" she asked. "You're frowning terribly."
I continued to shove my fingers in and out of her pussy, but still nothing happened.
"Is there something wrong?" she repeated.
I withdrew my hand from her body. "Yes. There's something wrong. Want me to tell you what's happened to me?"
"Please do, handsome boy."
"It's my mother," I told her. "She's ruined me."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not sure. I seem to have developed a distaste for females."
"What's that mean?"
"It means I don't want to screw you, Lenza."
"Have you been drinking very much?"
"Not enough to bother me."
"Want me to play with it, take it in my mouth ... get it hard for you?"
"Wouldn't do any good tonight, I'm afraid."
"Maybe it would."
I shook my head. "There's only one person who can get it hard."
"Your ... mother?"
"Looks that way." She took a deep breath. "Is your mother alive, handsome boy?"
"Yes."
"Is she here ... in this city?"
"Yes."
She shrugged. "Then go home and screw her, handsome boy. Doesn't that make sense?"
I pulled the sheet over her nudity. "Yes. I think you're right. I'll do that. Thank you. You're a nice kid. Good-bye." I walked out of the place.
It required some fifteen minutes for me to walk back home, but when I entered the house, I found my mother sprawled on the floor of the front room. A bottle was nearby, also on the floor, and its contents, what she hadn't consumed, had spilled onto the carpet. She was almost totally naked and, as I stood staring down at her solid, rounded limbs, her narrow, sexy-looking waistline, the tanned skin, the great breasts, I became, little by little, extremely hard.
"I don't want to do it," I muttered to myself. "But it looks like I have to. I have a feeling that if I don't I'll never be able to again."
I pulled off my pants, flung my body on top of hers, and screwed her savagely for more than half an hour. She didn't once come out of her drunken stupor.
I picked her up, carried her to her bed and dumped her down on it, my heart pounding furiously. I wanted to do something wild, but as yet I hadn't figured out what it was.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I DIDN'T SEE MY MOTHER FOR NEARLY a week, for when I got up the next day, she was gone. She'd written a note and left it on the kitchen table where I would be certain to find it. It briefly stated that she had to go to another city on business for a few days and that she might be gone for a week. She didn't state what the business was and I couldn't have cared less.
I felt suddenly free, if only for a time, and I made up my mind that I was damned if I'd go to school this week. I would pack a bag, climb into my car and go somewhere, somewhere out of town. I considered asking Abbie to go with me but discarded this notion because I knew that her father wouldn't allow her to miss school, and even if I could take her somewhere she'd want to get married, something I had no wish to do.
The day was Sunday.
I had more than two hundred dollars stashed away in my bedroom, so money was no problem, and after eating breakfast I showered, shaved, packed and left the house. I climbed into the car and drove toward Abbie's place, still not positive if I wanted to at least ask her to go along. By sheer luck, or coincidence, she was in the front yard when I approached, and I slowed the car to a halt.
"Abbie," I called. "Come here."
She had already seen me and was on her way to the car. "Hi, Robert," she said. "Going somewhere?"
She had seen my bag on the rear seat. "Yes, I'm taking a trip. Want to go with me?"
"Where you going, Robert?"
I didn't answer this. "Is your father at home?"
Her eyes went wide. "Why didn't you know? My father and your mother went to Pittsburg together."
"My mother told me she was going away for a week on business, but she didn't mention your father."
Abbie giggled. "I have a sneaky feeling they're going to be married, Robert."
I thought my damned heart was going to stop. "W-What?" I asked stupidly.
She didn't reply to my question but said something else. "Don't you even know what day this is, Robert?"
"What?" I said again, confused now.
"It's October thirtieth, your birthday, silly. Both of us are eighteen today. Can't you even remember your own birthday?"
"I hadn't thought about it, Abbie. I wasn't brought up to think about birthdays much, only sex."
She giggled. "Well, what's wrong with sex?"
I relaxed and smiled. "Nothing. So what should we do? Celebrate? Shall we take a trip somewhere together and have a ball?"
"All right."
"You know something?" I said pensively. "I've never had a birthday present from my mother in my life."
"Robert," she said seriously, "please. Don't start sulking again."
This surprised me. "I'm not sulking, just stating a fact."
She laughed. "All right. Forget I said that. Will you come in and wait till I get a bag packed?"
"Sure." I climbed out of the car and entered the house with her.
She left me in the living room while she went to her bedroom and changed clothing. She was gone quite a while, but when she returned with her bag, she had put her blonde hair up and the change in her appearance astonished me. She looked ten years older.
"Hey," I said approvingly. "You look great with your hair up."
"I thought it would be a good idea to look older, Robert, if we're going somewhere together. You'd better brush your hair off your forehead a bit, too."
"Why do we have to look older."
"The police, silly. We don't want them thinking we're a couple of kids running away from home."
"I understand. Might be a good idea. Got a hairbrush I can use."
"In the bedroom."
I went in and brushed my hair straight back, and the fact was it did make me look older. I stood looking at myself in the mirror and was surprised to see how much I resembled my mother, if a male can resemble a female, really. I had the same high forehead, the same hairline, the small eyes. I'd never really noticed this before.
I returned to the living room. "How old would you say I am, Abbie?" I asked, grinning.
"About twenty-four. You're a very handsome guy, Robert."
I recalled what the fourteen-year-old whore had told me the night before. "Do you think so?" I said.
"Yes. Very handsome. Shall we go?"
"Right." I picked up her bag and we left the house after she'd locked it securely. We climbed into the car and I started the motor. "Let's just drive," I told her. "Let's don't make any plans or anything."
She giggled. "That sounds exciting. I hate to plan things out beforehand. I hope you'll take us somewhere where there's a motel-later on, I mean."
I smiled and drove the car away from the curb. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to do that, Abbie."
"Good," she said. "No point in going anywhere together if we can't sleep together."
"Do you ever think about anything but sex, Abbie?" I asked, grinning.
"No. What else is there to think about?"
I suppose I suspected all along, at least subconsciously, that it would happen, and it did. Abbie and I drove to another state, were quietly married by a justice of the peace who seemed to be totally uninterested in what our ages were. He simply went through the paces of marrying us, it paid him and that was that. We honeymooned for more than a week and would have kept it going longer if I hadn't run out of money. We were obliged then to return to town, and I drove directly to my mother's place.
She was there and so was Mr. LeBlanc. When we told them what we'd done, neither of them spoke for a moment.
Then Mr. LeBlanc smiled and said to me, "I suppose you suspect that we, too, were married, your mother and I. We're going to live here and ... well, now that you kids are married, I suppose I'll have to turn over my house to you for the time being." He studied me carefully. "No more school for you two. You'll have to get a job, Robert. You have a wife to support now."
I swallowed. "Yes, sir, I know that."
My mother never said a word. She simply sniffed once or twice, got up and left the room.
I looked at Abbie, and she in turn looked at me and then her father. "Father," she said, "Robert spent all of his money. Will you loan us some?"
Mr. LeBlanc took out his wallet and handed me a wad of bills. "You can pay it back later, Robert. Now ... if you'll please excuse me, I must go and see about my ... wife. She seems rather upset by the news."
Abbie and I left the house and climbed into the car. I turned sideways in the seat. "Well?" I said. "Where do we go from here?"
"Home, of course. I want to take a bath."
It was two months before I finally got a job in a gas station, and it was another two months before I happened to see the ad in the newspaper. I read it with curiosity and showed it to Abbie.
She read it aloud: "Exciting couple wants to meet another exciting couple. Object: Fun." The phone number was given.
"That's one of those swap things, Abbie," I said. "Want to look into it?"
At the time she was sitting on the edge of the bed, half-naked. Now she rubbed her breasts absently. "Do you want to, Robert?"
I smiled. "Might be interesting."
"You think I'm not enough woman for you?"
"No," I said quickly. "Nothing of the sort."
She stroked her breasts again. "I've noticed in the past three or four weeks that you've become increasingly restless. I want to ask you something."
"All right, shoot."
"Do you ... miss ... crawling on top of your mother?"
"No."
"Are you sure, Robert?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm glad all that's over and done with." I wet my lips. "What about you and your father. Do you miss him?"
"You mean, do I miss his prick, don't you?"
I was taken aback. "I wish you wouldn't put it so bluntly. We're married now, Abbie."
"All right. I'm sorry. I don't know if I miss him or not. Maybe we should call on them some night and see how they're getting along." We hadn't been to see them except that one time since our marriage.
"No," I said, "I don't believe I want to. Not just yet. I'd much prefer looking into this ad thing."
"Do you really want to?"
"Might add a little zest to things, Abbie."
"All right. Call the man up." She paused and rubbed her breasts again. "I know that you miss your mother. I don't blame you."
"But I don't," I protested. "Not really."
She smiled. "All right, have it your way."
I kissed her on the side of the face. "Want me to call these people up, the ones who put the ad in the paper?"
"Wait a while. Let me think about it?"
"But just a minute ago you said it was okay."
"It's a woman's privilege to change her mind."
"Who told you that?" I asked, grinning at her. "Nobody. I told myself."
I reached down and touched the nipple of her breast. "Feel like a little excitement?"
"I'm always ready for that." She bit her lips and frowned. "You haven't been very nice to me of late, you know."
"I know. I can't help it for some reason."
"You mean about not being able to get a hardon?"
"Of course. What else would I mean?"
"Is it because you've been having this trouble that you want to meet this other couple?"
"Maybe."
"Don't you love me any more, Robert?"
"It's not a question of love. It's ... something else."
"What else could it be?"
"I don't know."
"Have you been thinking about your mother a lot?"
I wet my lips. "Yes, damn her."
"Why blame her?"
"Because I think she ruined me."
"Nuts! You just think you're ruined. Take it out and let me play with it for a while. Bet I can get it hard for you, honey."
I hesitated.
"What's the matter with you? Don't you care about blowing off any more?"
"Hell yes. You know I do."
"Then take it out and let me play with it. I promise you I'll get it hard and we can screw one another."
"I'm not in the mood."
"You've said that a lot of times lately. Maybe you'd better ... go and see your mother."
"No. The hell with that."
"You'd have to go when my father isn't there, I imagine. Maybe he wouldn't like to have you screw his wife."
"I don't want to screw her, damn it! Knock it off about my mother, will you please?"
Tears came into her eyes. "What am I going to do with you? You don't want me to play with it, you don't want to do it to me. Why did we get married, if that's the way you feel toward me."
"Damn it, I don't feel that way toward you. It's just that there's something ... lacking in me, and I don't know what it is."
"I know what it is. You're used to having your mother around. Now you don't have that and you're lost."
"I'm not lost. It's just a physical thing."
"You're only eighteen. It can't he physical. Come on, honey. Unzip, take it out and I'll suck you off. That ought to be easy for you to do."
I sat on the edge of the bed. "All right, Abbie. Tell you what. You take it out and do whatever you want to do."
She reached over, unzipped me and snaked her hand into my pants. I felt her take my penis between her fingers and massage it gently. I became half-hard and, when she felt this, she sighed and leaned over my lap and placed her lips over my cock. She ran her tongue around on the gland, sucking me as she did so. Her left hand snaked between my legs, and, with her fingers, she gently rubbed my balls. I became a bit harder, and I could see and hear the excitement growing in her, her breathing growing faster, her body shivering, and beads of perspiration appearing on her brow. Her head bobbed up and down quite rapidly now, and I had to admit it felt good. My wife really knew how to suck a cock, no mistake about it. And then it happened without my having become fully hard.
I blew my wad into her mouth and she swallowed it down greedily, happily, and all the while giving my legs repeated pinches of joy with her right hand.
She pulled away from me, then, and flopped over on her back, her legs spread widely apart. "While it's still a bit hard, stick it in, honey," she panted. "Stick it into me and screw me."
I crawled on top of her and put it in as best I could, but I had difficulty getting it all the way in there just wasn't enough firmness to insert it properly. She cried out, wrapped her legs about mine and began to pump at me. I responded, of course, and together we had a sort of sex act, though it wasn't a good one.
I finally blew again, and she cried out in delight and kissed me passionately. "See, Robert, I knew you could if you'd only try."
I lay there on top of her and thought about my mother. Almost immediately, my prong became stiff and started dripping.
"Robert!" she cried out. "It hard, it's very hard. Oh ... good. Blow off in me, honey, blow off in me again."
I knew for certain now what was wrong with me, and I also knew what to do about it. I pretended I was screwing my mother, and in no time at all I was successful in filling my wife's cunt with thick, male milk.
I was elated at my discovery, and felt that from now on I would have no trouble in dealing with my problem. My spirits began to rise almost immediately, and Abbie and I had a ball of a time for two or three weeks before the same trouble returned to me one night while we were in bed.
"Robert," she said, "what's wrong now? I thought you had gotten over that." She'd just felt my dick, had rubbed it and nothing had happened.
"I can't get one just any old time, Abbie. No guy can do that."
"Guy your age should be able to, Robert," she cried angrily, and turned over on the bed, her back to me.
"Come on. Don't make a big deal of it."
She didn't reply, so I turned on my side and finally went to sleep. The next morning when I awakened she wasn't in bed. I didn't have to go to work-it was my day off-so I turned over on my other side and dropped off to sleep again. When I awakened the second time, it was noon. I got out of bed, showered and shaved, and went to the kitchen. Abbie wasn't there, nor was she in the house. Thinking she had gone shopping or something of that nature, I hunted about the house for cigarettes and couldn't find any. I slipped on a jacket and walked to the corner grocery.
When I had purchased a pack and was leaving the store, I almost bumped into a girl who apparently was about to enter the place.
"Hello," she said shyly. "Remember me?"
It was the fourteen-year-old whore. "Hi," I said, smiling. "How are you?"
"Fine. And you?"
"I'm fine, too."
"That's good. How is your ...?"
"My mother? I don't know. Haven't seen her in over four months."
She nodded thoughtfully. "That's good," she said. "Come and see me sometime. I owe you ... one."
"Thank you."
She walked into the store after smiling at me nicely, and I turned and moved down the street slowly. So she thought it was good for me not to have seen my mother. Maybe she was right. I was amazed by this kid's actions and words-she seemed to know more about life than I did and I was four years older than she.
I increased my pace and turned the corner to return home. I got about half a block from the house and stopped in my tracks. I didn't want to go home, didn't want to see my wife. I wanted something else, and immediately I knew what it was.
I wanted to screw my mother.
I found myself standing at the door of her home. I tried the door, but it was locked, so I pressed the button and waited. No one came to let me in, so I went around to the rear of the house and tried the kitchen door. It, too, was locked. I remembered a basement window I used to crawl through when out late with no key and I went to it and got into the basement. I hoped the door from the basement to the kitchen was unlocked, and a moment later I discovered it was. I stepped into the kitchen and looked around at the place. Everything was the same as it had always been. The place was spotlessly clean. There were new blue mats-I suppose you could call them mats-on the floor, little ones.
I walked through the dining room and living room and stood at the foot of the open staircase, glancing up it. My mother wasn't in the living room, nor was Mr. LeBlanc.
I hesitated.
I wanted to run up the stairs, enter my mother's bedroom and, provided she was there, throw my body on top of hers and....
Something prevented me from going up the stairs.
Perhaps it was fear. Fear that she wouldn't respond, that she might reject me and my lust for her.
I heard a sound from upstairs and turned my glance in that direction. I saw Mr. LeBlanc standing on the mezzanine looking down at me strangely.
I swallowed hard, scarcely able to believe what I saw.
Mr. LeBlanc in four months had become incredibly thin and aged.
"Sir," I called up to him, but he didn't answer. "Sir," I repeated. "Mr. LeBlanc. Is my mother in?"
His arm raised and he pointed a trembling finger at the front door. "Go," he rasped. "Go away from here, boy."
"What is it?" I called up. "Are you ill, Mr. LeBlanc? Where is my mother?"
"Go away, boy. Go home to my daughter and take care of her."
"Is my mother here?" I persisted.
"You cannot see your mother. Go home, boy."
"Why not? Is she ill, too?"
"Go," he intoned. "And be quick about it!"
I started to ascend the stairs, but something about the look on his face told me I'd better not. I studied him for a moment, noting the horrible look of his face: drawn, pale, wasted away.
"Are you ill, sir?" I asked again.
He pointed at the door. "Go home to your wife, boy. Don't come back here again."
I turned away from the stairs, went to the front door and let myself out. The door locked itself automatically when it swung shut. I could hear the click of the clock. This astonished me almost as much as had the appearance and behavior of Mr.
LeBlanc, for my mother had always insisted that the front door never be locked during the daylight hours.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MR. LEBLANC HAD NEVER REMOVED his supply of whiskey from his former home, so when I got back there, I immediately got one of the bottles and opened it. My hands were shaking as I did so, but I managed to get a drink in me, and a few minutes later the shaking subsided somewhat. I went to the side window and glanced over at Hu Chou's place. I could see no sign of movement inside his place, for the shades were drawn on every window. I had the uncomfortable idea that Abbie might have gone there either during the night or early in the morning. I was tempted to march over to Chou's place and knock on the door, but I didn't. Instead, I had another drink and lighted a cigarette.
"Where the hell is she?" I muttered, annoyed. I was still upset by the looks and behavior of Abbie's father. There was, I suspected, something drastically wrong between Mr. LeBlanc and my mother, even more so that there was between Abbie and me.
I finally left the house and went next door and rapped. I was somewhat surprised to see the blonde girl of Sexualis, Incorporated, open the door.
"Hello," she said. "Remember me?"
"Yes. How are you. Is my wife here?"
She frowned prettily. "Your wife? No, she isn't. There's no one here but me. Would you like to come inside?" She made a certain motion with her hips and looked at me lustfully.
"Some other time," I said, trying not to be rude to her. She was a pretty girl, sexy-looking and I might want to avail myself of her one of these days. "I'm trying to locate my wife."
She bit her lips. "All right, I'll tell you. She and Hu Chou went away this morning in his car. I don't know where they went."
I ground my teeth. "I see. Thank you."
She gave me another bold look. "Wouldn't you like to come inside."
"I'll be back in about an hour," I told her, thinking that I might, possibly. "I have something to do at the moment."
"Being with me is also something to do," she replied evenly.
I forced a smile. "I agree with you. I'll ... er ... see you later. Will that be all right?"
"I suppose so. You must come before Hu Chou returns, however."
"Sure," I said, and turned and walked down from the porch. It occurred to me that I didn't yet know her name, so I turned back around to ask her, but the door was closed. I shrugged and returned to the house and went inside. So Abbie had gone off somewhere with the Chink. I swore. I'd told the girl I had something to do, but the truth was I had nothing to do, nothing at all. This knowledge irritated me, and for the time being I forgot about the strange appearance and behavior of Mr. LeBlanc, and when Abbie finally came home late that evening, I said nothing about it to her at first.
When she came in the door, I was already half-drunk. "Where in the hell have you been?" I asked angrily.
"I went for a ride in the country with Hu Chou?"
"Where did you go and what did you do?"
"I ... he took me all through Sexualis, Incorporated, the building, I mean. There were only two or three other people there. Don't look so angry. I didn't do anything wrong."
"You had me half out of my mind worrying about you."
"You didn't seem to care much for me last night when I wanted you to."
"I took care of you last night. How much do you expect from one guy?"
"I expect nothing from any guy," she replied, "but I expect my husband to be a man and love me when I want it.".
"I see," I said, more angry than before. "I'm not a man now. Is that what you're saying?"
She threw her purse down on the sofa. "Except for our so-called honeymoon you haven't acted like a husband very often."
I said nothing but got the bottle and had another drink.
"Why the booze bit?" she asked. "You never used to drink."
"Have to start sometime."
"Robert, what's really bothering you, or am I being too personal?"
"Nothing's bothering me." I remembered then about seeing her father. "Come to think of it, there is something to bother me ... and you, too. Your father. I saw him today. He looks bad. Like he's sick."
"Yes, I know," she said slowly. "I saw him just now. I had quite an argument with him because he didn't like what I said."
"What did you say?"
She picked up her purse and walked to the bedroom door. "I told him if he had any brains he'd get away from your mother immediately." She closed the bedroom door and I heard her lock it.
I went over and banged on it as hard as I could. "Open the door, Abbie."
"No," she called through it. "I'm going to bed. You can sleep on the sofa."
"I'll be damned if I will."
"Then go next door and have fun with the girl."
"What?"
"You heard me. I know you were over there today."
"So what? You were out with the Chink."
"Go away. I'm going to sleep."
"All right," I said, more calmly now. "I'll do that. I'll go away."
"Good night, husband."
"Go to hell."
There was silence now on the other side of the door, and a moment later I returned to the sofa and had another drink. The phone rang and I picked it up.
"Hello," I said.
"Robert, dear, I understand you were here today to see me," my mother said silkily. "I'm so sorry I wasn't at home. I do miss you so, dear. Please come and see me tomorrow. Good-bye now, dear. I must hang up."
She hung up before I could say another word. I replaced the phone and glanced down at myself. I felt it and grinned. Unzipping my pants, I took out the most enormous hard-on I'd had in months.
I returned home from work the next day to find Abbie gone from the house. I showered and shaved, changed my clothes and headed for my mother's place. When I turned up the in-walk, I saw a car backing out of the drive and recognized Abbie's cousin Alfie behind the wheel. He saw me, waved gaily to me, and drove away. I frowned, wondering what he was doing at my mother's house, and entered the place. Mother was in her customary position, lying on the sofa having a drink. She was dressed in a black negligee and was wearing black stockings. She looked wonderfully sexy to me.
I stopped a few feet from her. "Hello, Mother," I said, my heart thumping wildly.
"Hello, Robert dear. How nice to see my sweet boy again. I've missed you so very much."
"I've missed you, too, but tell me, what was Alfie doing here?"
She frowned, put down her drink. "He comes to see Mr. LeBlanc all the time, dear. I'm afraid my so-called husband has turned into a homosexual. Of course I knew he always had been bisexual, but now ... well, he's become just impossible. He never touches me any more and I'm terribly lonely. This Alfie ... that dirty bastard ... I can't stand him. He and Mr. LeBlanc, but I'm sure I don't have to tell you what they're doing."
"That's too bad for you. Tell me, why did you marry Mr. LeBlanc in the first place?"
She sat up straight and bit her pretty lips hard. Then she relaxed and brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and regarded me with a fixed and sexy stare. "Because of money problems, Robert. I was getting rather low on finances. Mr. LeBlanc has plenty of money, so I married him."
"Did he ask you or did you ask him?" For some reason this seemed very important to me.
She laughed. "I asked him, of course, or to put it more accurately, I maneuvered him into marriage."
"And now you're sorry you did?"
"Only in the sense that being married to him appears to keep my boy away from me."
"That's not the reason, Mother. I'm married, too, you know."
She rubbed her upper lip with her finger. "Yes, I'm well aware of that," she said drily. "Both of us are caught up in a rather terrible situation, aren't we, dear?"
"Well, I...."
"How is your wife, dear. Does she treat you right, does she give you all the cunt you want?"
I took a deep breath. "I'd rather not talk about that.
She waved her hand. "No matter. You're here and Mr. LeBlanc is not. I saw to that. Come to the bedroom, Robert. I want my boy to crawl on top of me and gratify me. I haven't had you in so long I've almost forgotten what pleasure is."
"Why is it you like to have me make love to you? Why?"
"Because you're mine, dear. I like to have my things satisfy me."
"Am I just a thing?"
"Certainly not, dear. But you have a thing. That's what I meant."
She took my hand, got to her feet and led me upstairs to her room where she swiftly removed the negligee and stood before me in only her stockings, garter-belt and bra, all of them black in color. Her skin was tanned, her legs lovely. I became immediately hard.
"Take off your trousers, dear, and let me see it."
I did so, my tube sticking straight out in front of me and pointed more or less at her face because she was now sitting on the bed. She took it in her hand and kissed the end of it, and I nearly shot off.
She laughed softly. "Dear Robert, all I have to do is touch you and you're ready to blow, aren't you?"
"Yes," I replied, my heart thumping more wildly than before.
"Why in the world did you marry that girl, Robert?"
"Because you married her father. I guess I felt deserted."
"I see. Too bad. You should have waited and let me explain why I was marrying him."
"Take it in your mouth, Mother. Suck it like you used to."
"My my, aren't we in a big hurry today. Four months you haven't bothered to even call me on the phone and now you want to go off in my mouth immediately."
"Sorry," I mumbled. "Didn't mean to rush things."
"You love your mother, don't you, dear?"
This made me extremely uncomfortable. "Y Yes," I replied. "Of course, why shouldn't I?"
"Do you really love your mother or do you simply have this abnormal lust to take care of?"
"Do you think I'm abnormal, Mother?"
"Answer my question first, dear."
"I really love you," I said flatly.
"And you love to screw me, don't you? You'd rather screw your mother than any girl in the world, wouldn't you, Robert?"
I nodded, feeling rather miserable at the moment.
"You're a very hot, passionate boy, Robert. You need a real woman to drain you and you need it every day, don't you, dear?"
"Y-Yes."
She spread her legs apart and I glanced down at her pussy. It looked beautiful, exciting, moist. "Get down on your knees, dear."
"Is that what you want me to do?" My heart was really thumping now.
"I would like for you to kiss me there. Run your tongue over me as you used to do."
I dropped to my knees between her legs, and she immediately placed her legs over my shoulders. I kissed her cunt and drew back. "Wonderful," I murmured. "I like this."
She clutched my hair and pulled it hard. "Use your tongue in me, dear. Make me cream a little, please."
I ran my tongue over and around and inside of her cunt as she requested. "Wonderful," I murmured again.
"Did you miss it, Robert dear, very much? Miss my cunt, I mean?"
"Yes, very much."
"You may get on top of me, Robert."
"I'd rather kiss you here awhile."
"Very well, please yourself as well as me, dear."
"You're very nice, Mother." My former feeling of hatred toward her seemed to have disappeared entirely.
"Thank you, dear. Suck me as hard as you wish to. I do wish I could reach your penis, however. I'd love to play with it."
"We can lie on the bed together. How will that be?"
She moved back from me and lay flat on her back on the bed while I also crawled onto the bed and lay on top of her, my legs over her head, my face near her cunt region. I dipped my tongue inside of her, and at the same time I felt her lips go about my stiffened penis. She sucked me and I lapped her; it was wonderful. I knew now what I wanted-I wanted her and only her to sex me.
"When I pat you on the back, Robert," she said, her voice sounding strangely stifled, "it means I'm ready to achieve a climax, which also means I want you to come in me. Do you understand?"
I pulled my tongue out of her. "Yes, Mother," I said, and returned my tongue deep within her cunt as far as I could thrust it.
She began to writhe her buttocks about, and I had difficulty keeping my tongue up inside of her, but then I felt her entire body stiffen, felt her striking my back fiercely, not patting it as she had said, and I knew it was time for me to gratify her as well as myself. I concentrated on releasing my fluid into her immediately, kept my mind on this for one full minute and all the while continued to lap her off. And then I felt the peak about to hit and I dug even more deeply into her cunt, my tongue passing repeatedly in quick, darting movements over her stiffened button and....
I blew off in her and she began to suck my dick savagely, seeking to induce every drop possible of it to pass between her hot, wet lips. She swallowed my juice and kept on sucking at me until I had to ask her to stop for a moment while I caught my breath.
However, she wasn't having any part of it. "Turn around, Robert," she cried. "Turn around and stick that darling prick of yours in my cunt, dear." There was an authoritative ring to her tone that I didn't like. It brought back memories of her arrogance.
I got up from the bed. "Cool it," I told her evenly. "I'm not a machine at the moment, I'm going downstairs and have a drink. You come with me."
CHAPTER NINE
I PULLED ON MY PANTS AND OBSERVED her looking at me, her face slightly red. "What did you say to me, Robert?"
"Don't give me that routine. Come on, get up, put your negligee on. I want you to join me in a drink."
"How dare you issue orders to me, Robert!" she cried, her face growing more crimson.
I ignored her question. Walking to the door, I stopped and turned around. "If you want more of me, come downstairs. We can do it on the sofa, after I've had a couple of drinks."
She was sitting up straight now, her bra half-off and revealing one of her mammoth breasts, her breath coming fast. "What's come over you. That's not my son talking, not my boy who just spoke to his mother that rudely."
"I'm your son, not your slave. I happen to be a married man. Come along and join me in a drink, if you like. If you prefer not to, then lie there and sulk."
"Well, I never...."
"Probably not. See you downstairs."
"Don't drink that whiskey, you fool!" she yelled at me. "That's for Mr. LeBlanc."
I went down the stairs rapidly, feeling slightly giddy at the feeling of power I'd suddenly acquired. She needed me, I didn't need her. Not any more. To me, now, she was just a piece, not really a mother. She had never been a mother, really, but rather a woman in her thirties with whom I had lived since being a child.
I poured myself a drink from her bottle and sat down on the sofa and sipped it, lighting a cigarette a moment later. I listened intently for any sounds from upstairs, but there were none at the moment. I wondered if she'd come downstairs and attempt to start a scene. Probably she would. My mother wasn't the type of woman who gave up her authority over people if she could help it.
I waited.
I had another drink, smoked a second cigarette, but she hadn't come downstairs. I waited half an hour for her, and when I was fairly certain she wasn't going to join me, I got to my feet and walked to the bottom of the stairs.
"Since you aren't coming down," I called loudly, "I'll be leaving now."
I heard sounds in her room, and a moment later I saw her come out onto the mezzanine entirely naked. She looked down at me and moved her hips about suggestively.
"I'm leaving now," I repeated.
"If you don't come back upstairs to me immediately, young man, you needn't ever come here again." Her tone was half-pleading, half-rebuking.
"Sorry. Good-bye ... for now."
"If you leave me like this," she called down angrily, "I'll see to it that you...."
I waited for her to go on.
She stood there, glaring down at me angrily.
"What will you do?" I asked quietly.
"I'll have you taken care of, Robert."
I smiled. "Help yourself, Mother."
"Damn you!" she yelled. "Get your ass up here and screw me, you fool."
I was astonished at the ugliness of her tone and words. "Sorry, Mother," I said. "I'm not taking orders from you these days. If I happen to want to go down on you sometime, then I'll come and do it. You've got nothing to say about it."
"You ungrateful fool, after all the fun I've given you. That wife of yours has ruined you. You never used to be this way."
"Maybe I've grown up a bit. It was about time I did, I think."
"Get out of my house, damn you. Go back to that silly little piece you married, see if I care."
I laughed and went to the door and opened it. I stepped outside and left the door standing open.
Later, I realized that what I had done was rather childish, but just the same, childish or not, I'd had to do it. I owed it to myself to stand up to her, even if it had been done in a juvenile manner. I actually felt good walking up the street now. I walked rapidly and, when I came to the street on which Abbie and I lived, I kept on going. To hell with Abbie. To hell with my mother, I would find other females. After all, the world was full of them.
I came to the cafe I'd been in before, and I stopped and looked through the window. The blonde woman, the kid's mother, was waiting on two men who got up from the stool at the counter and smiled at the blonde.
"Hello," I said. "Cup of coffee, please."
"Hello there," she said carelessly. "You at loose ends again?"
How had she known that? "Sort of," I replied. "Is Lenza upstairs?"
She glanced at me quickly as she placed the cup of coffee down in front of me. "You got money to spend, kid?"
I nodded.
"Yes, she's up in her room, doing her schoolwork."
I almost laughed. It sounded ridiculous that a fourteen-year-old whore should be doing school homework. I paid the blonde for the coffee but didn't drink it.
"Okay if I go up?" I asked.
"For ten bucks it is," she said quickly.
"I'll give you the ten dollars," I said, and pulled out my wallet.
"Come to think of it, she said she owed you one, kid. You can go up this time without paying. You paid last time and didn't use it."
I was surprised. "I'm willing to pay again," I said rather foolishly.
She shrugged. "All right, give it here."
I gave her the ten dollars and she tucked it away in her bosom. "Any time, kid. You know where it is, the room, I mean."
'Sure," I got off the stool and walked to the rear.
"You forgot to drink your cofee," she called.
"Throw it out. I'll have another one later."
I went up the stairs and knocked on the door of the room where the girl had been the other time. I heard a sound from within and I knocked again.
"Come in," I heard her say.
I pushed the door open and saw her sitting on the side of the bed, her hair down in her eyes, a book on her lap, a pile of papers on a stand nearby.
"Hello, Lenza," I said.
Her eyes grew large. "Why ... hello ... how are you?" She put the book on the bed and smiled at me. "I was doing my homework."
"So your mother said. Hope I'm not interrupting you too much."
"I don't mind. Say, do you know anything about algebra?"
"No. I was lousy at it."
She sighed and pushed the pile of papers over a bit on the stand. "So'm I. I can't get the darned stuff through my head. Why do they have to teach such difficult stuff?"
I laughed. This kid had a way of making me feel good. "I don't know. I don't think they should require everyone to take the subject. It's all right for someone who has a flare for math. I wasn't one of these."
"Me either." She patted the bed. "Come sit down. My, you look handsome."
I laughed again. "You look very pretty yourself, Lenza."
She tapped her teeth with her fingernail. "What did you tell me your name was?"
"I'm not sure I told you. It's Robert."
"That's a nice name." She glanced up at me shyly. "You have trouble again, haven't you?"
I shrugged. "I don't really know, but everything seems to be going sour on me, Lenza."
"Yes, that's the way it is. It happens to everyone."
"May I ask you something?"
"Sure," she said, and blinked her eyes oddly.
"How come you know so much about people?"
She laughed. "I don't. Not really. My mother does, though. She knows people from start to finish. What little I know I learned from her."
"Your mother must be quite a woman."
"In some ways she is, but in other ways she isn't at all."
"You know, of course, why I came here."
"Sure. You want to have sex with me."
"Yes, but I want to talk to you, too."
"All right, Robert." She glanced at me again, but not at all shyly this time. "Would you like me to be naked while you talk to me?"
"If you want to be."
"It doesn't matter to me as long as you're satisfied."
"As long as I'm satisfied? What an odd thing to say."
She screwed up her face prettily. "Odd? Why is it odd?"
"I don't know. I don't think I ever had anyone say that to me before. As long as I'm satisfied. Everybody I've ever known, it seems, always wanted me to satisfy them."
"I'm here, Robert, to help you. You paid for me. Therefore, I'll try very hard to ... well, to satisfy you."
"I wish," I muttered, "that my mother and my wife had that attitude."
"Oh ... do you have a wife, too? I thought you just ... had a mother who ... Perhaps I'd better not say it."
"Please go ahead and say it, Lenza."
She shook her head. "No, it's not for me to put it into words, but you can if you wish."
"I'd rather talk about something else. You, for instance. Don't you grow tired of ... staying in this room and ... waiting for men to come to see you?"
She shook her head. "No, I was raised by my mother to do this."
"But that's not right, is it? Do you always do just what your mother says?"
"Pretty much. She's older than I and knows more than I ever will."
"I wonder," I muttered thoughtfully.
"I beg your pardon."
"Oh ... nothing. I was just talking to myself."
She laughed. "I do that a lot, too. Sometimes I lay here on the bed and mutter to myself by the hour."
I changed the subject. "Tell me something. You're only fourteen. There must be all sorts of men who'd be willing to pay a lot of money for having you. Why does your mother charge only ten dollars?"
She looked at me for a long moment. "Robert," she said slowly, "what my mother does is her business."
I felt rebuked. "I apologize to you, and to your mother. I don't know what made me say that."
"Everyone says things they shouldn't at times, Robert. Don't feel bad."
"You're quite a girl, do you know that?"
She laughed. "I don't think so."
"Well, I do."
"I can't even do my algebra, so what's so remarkable?"
"I don't know, but you're a very different person."
She sighed. "You don't know how I really am, Robert. Perhaps I'd better show you, and it'll explain things to you, including why my mother charges only ten dollars."
I felt a crazy chill pass over me. "What do you mean, Lenza?"
She sighed again. "I hope you aren't easily shocked, Robert. What I'm talking about is ... well, I don't know what I am."
I was completely mystified. "What are you saying?" I asked, my pulse racing.
"You'll know sooner or later, Robert, so I might as well show it to you now."
She lifted her skirt and pulled down her pants and I looked at her there, my heart pounding madly now.
"Do you understand now, Robert?" she asked quietly. "Do you know now why she can ask only ten dollars."
I nodded, fascinated by what I saw between her legs.
She pulled her pants up and her skirt down. "Do you want your money back, Robert? If so, you'll have to ask my mother."
"What made you ... that way?"
"I was born that way, of course."
"But can't you have an operation?"
"It's been done. It's a very expensive operation and my mother and I aren't that rich."
"The little penis over your cunt. Does it get ... hard when you're passionate."
"Yes."
"Wild," I muttered. "I never heard of anything so wild."
"Not really, Robert. I'm just a freak. There are lots of freaks in the world."
"You're not a freak, Lenza. Don't say that. You're the nicest ... girl I've ever known."
She glanced at me shyly again. "But you want to go now, don't you, Robert?"
"No."
"Yes, you do. You're shocked by my appearance down there. I can tell."
"Lenza," I said earnestly, "I'd like very much to take you. Could I?"
"Sure, if you still want to, but you don't have to just to make me feel better. It doesn't bother me, you know. Not much, anyway."
"I've never known anyone like you. I've never met anyone who...."
She laughed. "You said that before, Robert."
"Do you know something? You make me very hot."
She lifted her brows. "I do? That's strange. I was sure you'd be shocked, and even disgusted, by my appearance."
"Lenza," I said slowly, "you have a physical ... deformity. I have a mental one. That makes us even."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I mean ... about my mother. I'm mentally deformed about her." I paused. "It's not altogether her fault. I see that now. Much of the fault, if there is any fault, is my own."
"Robert," she said carefully, "you're not the first male who's been caught up in mother love."
"Mother love? I always thought that mother love was ... a mother loving her children."
"Isn't that what your mother's been doing to you all along?'
"My mother," I said harshly, "has been making me screw her for years. She never loved me."
Lenza seemed to be studying me. "Having intercourse with her ... well, that's love, a part of love, isn't it?"
"Guys don't relate sex and love."
"Then perhaps guys are wrong."
I suddenly didn't want to talk about my mother any more. I wished I hadn't brought her up. I wanted only to make love to this fourteen-year-old girl. "Lenza," I said, "will you take down your pants again and let me see you once more?"
"Sure." She lifted her skirt and pulled down her pants to her knees and leaned back on her elbows. "Look at it good, Robert. Make certain you want to ... do it to me before you try it."
I inspected the penis without being rude or offensive about it, or at least I tried to. I even touched it, and it became immediately hard. It was no larger than my little finger, but there was a head on it, and when I touched it, a bead of moisture appeared on the head.
"It fascinates me," I said softly. "I've heard about such things, but I never quite believed it."
"It's not common," she said quietly. "Only a few cases of it exist, I understand."
"Your ... er ... cunt. Can it be ... er ... entered without hurting you?"
She laughed. "Oh yes, I'm much more of a girl than I am a boy. Can't you tell by looking at me?"
"You're a very pretty girl, Lenza."
"Thanks, Robert." She paused. "Shall I pull my pants up, or do you want to play with it ... with me?"
"Stay just as you are, Lenza. I like looking at your body."
This surprised her. "You do? Honest?"
"Yes. Yes, I do. I really do."
"Do you want to get on top of me?" she asked, her tone a trifle agitated now.
"I will, after a while, Lenza. I just want to look at you for now."
She sighed. "You're getting me hot. Do you know that?"
There was something about the way she said it that set me off in great shape. Funny thing, the thought that leaped to my mind was about the time that Mr. LeBlanc had first come to see my mother and had ended up going down on me.
Suddenly I knew what I wanted to try.
"Would you mind?" I asked her.
"Would I mind what, Robert?"
I touched the little penis thing above her moist cunt. "That," I said unsteadily, "I'd like to. May I?"
"Sure?"
"Would it please you ... if I did?"
"Yes, very much."
"You won't think I'm nuts, will you?"
"No. You do whatever you want to."
"Thank you," I said, my voice actually shaking with passion now.
I drew in my breath, lowered my face to her cunt, ran my tongue inside of her and over the red lips of the crevice. I then moved up a bit and took her small, wet "penis" between my lips.
Moisture flew into my mouth almost instantly and it set me afire. I left that sweet spot and moved up to her tummy, running my tongue over her flesh with great relish. I was extremely hard, and I felt her hand groping for me and finally finding me. She massaged my penis gently, and I continued to run my tongue over her flesh and upwards until I'd placed my lips around and over one of her small breasts. She sighed and stroked my head with her other hand while keeping on with the massage. I was getting hotter by the moment and knew that she was getting the same. I sucked her breasts, going from one to the other and back again, and she moaned and pulled at my hair.
"Oh ... Robert ... go down and suck it again! I want to go off that way, too!"
I knew what she meant by "it", and I lowered myself and took it between my lips again and ran my tongue over the head of it wetly. She squirted into my mouth, and I swallowed it down eagerly. It had a sweet taste to it, warm and sweet and terrifically exciting.
"This is really something," I muttered.
"Oh, it feels so good, Robert. Suck it some more, please."
I sucked it again, and again she squirted into my mouth but in greater quantity this time. I again swallowed her strange juice, and glanced up to see that her eyes were tightly closed and that she was breathing very heavily, perspiration running down her face as well.
I snaked my tongue into her crevice deeply, and was astonished to feel her lubricate my lips from this point, also. This girl was lucky-she could have both the male and female pleasures.
"Oh ... Robert," she repeated. "It feels so good."
I lifted my body up higher and settled down on her, my stiffened prick stabbing at her cunt in a savage, wild manner. When I began to pump it into her, I felt her pointer going off and striking my tummy. It felt sticky and warm and wonderful, and caused me to pump faster into her and more deeply, too. I knew the peak was rapidly approaching and grunted at her. She stiffened her body, squirted more warm fluid and soon my stomach was covered by thick stuff, but still she squirted it at me. By this time I was nearly frantic, and I let go and my own milk streamed from me into her cunt with great force. It kept flowing and flowing, and each time I moved she would go off against my stomach and at the same time react like a female with me inside of her. It was the wildest thing I had ever experienced, and when, finally, I could pump no more, because of near exhaustion, I heard her sobbing as though her heart had been broken.
"What is it?" I asked, looking down into her eyes. "Is something wrong, Lenza?"
"Oh, no no. Nothing's wrong. It was beautiful, simply beautiful. Oh, I loved it so."
I got up from her and prepared my clothing for departure. "I liked it, too, Lenza. Maybe I'll come back and see you sometime."
Her eyes were very wet now. "I hope you do. You were so good."
I left the room, went down the stairs and out into the street.
CHAPTER TEN
I HAD NO MORE THAN REACHED THE second block when I became violently ill. It was all I could do to duck into an alleyway before throwing up. The whiskey I had drunk seemed to have turned into a bitter substance, and the taste and smell of it as it came up wasn't the taste and odor of whiskey alone, but of something else, something strong and acid-like. I heaved until I thought my stomach, too, was coming up and out of me. My head spun crazily, my eyes watered excessively, and I staggered about in the alley as if I were very drunk, but this passed after a few minutes. I felt light-headed and still sick to my stomach, but I managed after a time, to walk home and enter the house, whereupon I sank down full-length on the sofa and groaned. My stomach burned and ached almost beyond my ability to withstand it, and I got up and went to the kitchen to drink a large glass of cold milk. This didn't ease the pain; it made it worse, and I ran to the bathroom and promptly threw it up in a violent fashion. I stood over the bowl for perhaps ten minutes trying to vomit, but there was nothing else in my stomach to come up.
Finally, I left the bathroom and returned to the sofa and lay down. The front door came open and Abbie burst in.
"Well," she yelled, "where the hell have you been, Mother's boy?"
I just looked at her.
"What's wrong with you? You look awful. Did Mama screw you half to death?"
"Shut up," I growled, but weakly.
"Don't tell me to shut up, damn you. Have you been drinking?"
I looked away from her and realized she was the one I really disliked, not my mother. Why I had ever married her was beyond me.
"I asked you a question. Are you going to answer it?"
"Will you ... please ... leave me alone."
"No, I won't. You're damned right I won't. You went to see your goddamned mother, didn't you, you lousy bastard?"
"Why all the bitching? You know about my mother and me."
"I'm sick and tired of your wanting your mother to screw instead of your wife, that's why I'm angry. Why shouldn't I be angry? What wife would put up with a bum for a husband?"
I sat up and stared at her, though my stomach was giving me a bad time still. "I'm not a bum. You know that, Abbie. I work. I support you. If I have a thing about my mother, I can't help it. I don't really like her. She has some crazy kind of ... hold over me. I don't know what it is. I think I may be getting rid of it. Can't you be patient?"
"No, I'm too patient. I've been too damned patient. I know about your mother. She's no good. She's a bitch. She'll do anything at all to get her boy back for herself. She...."
"My mother is married to your father. Have you forgotten that? What's the matter with him? Isn't he man enough to take care of her?"
"He's all right, my father. It would drive any man crazy to have to live with her. My father's all right, believe me. It's that awful mother of yours that's making him sick."
"Is he sick?"
"Yes, of course he's sick. Why wouldn't he be sick, living with that horrible female?"
"You didn't used to think she was so horrible?"
"Well, I do now, damn her. I'd like to kill her."
I stared at her harder now. "I think you want your father, just as I have my mother. I think that's all that's really wrong with you, but you can't have your father any more, can you? He's turned into a queer."
"Don't you dare speak that way of my father, you louse!"
I made a face. "Piss on your father, Abbie."
Her face turned white. "Why, you dirty bastard! Don't you dare...."
I managed a faint grin. "You don't like hearing the truth about your father, do you? Do you know he's been sucking dicks with your cousin, Alfie? They've been seeing one another right along."
"If he has, your mother drove him to it."
"Nuts. You've found out your father is queer and you're trying to take it out on me and my mother."
She burst into tears and ran to the bedroom and slammed the door. I was sorry for what I'd said, but she'd started the argument, and who told females they could start an argument and have everything their own way? I lay down flat on my back and wondered what it was that had caused me to be so ill. I knew there was nothing psychological about it; at least I thought there wasn't. It had to be a physical sickness. Had there been something wrong with the whiskey I had drunk at my mother's house? It would appear so.
I thought about what I had just said to Abbie, about her being angry because her father had turned into a full-fledged homo and because of this she couldn't have intercourse with him any more. It had been a lucky guess, a guess that she might want her father, and it appeared now that it was a correct guess.
I got up from the sofa after a time and went to the bathroom and tried to heave again. There was nothing in my stomach, of course, so it was imposible to bring anything up but bitter stomach acid. I had a drink of water and returned to the sofa and sat down, holding my head in my hands. Even my head ached.
The bedroom door opened. "Give me a drink, Robert," Abbie said, a change in her tone of voice.
I got the bottle and took it over to her. "Here you are," I said coldly. "Going to get drunk?"
"No," she said. "I want something to settle my nerves, that's all. I'm a nervous wreck."
I said nothing but returned to the sofa, my head buzzing and swimming, and slumped down on it.
She came close to me. "What happened to you, Robert? You look ill."
"Been throwing up," I said.
"Is something wrong?"
"Obviously."
"Are you ill, Robert?" she persisted.
I became sarcastic. "Of course not, dear. I throw up now in the evenings instead of watching television."
"Don't be nasty."
I laughed. "Look who's talking about being nasty." I stopped laughing immediately, for my stomach started to rebel again.
"What on earth is wrong with you? I never saw you this way before. You look terrible."
"I don't know. I'm just sick to my stomach."
"Did your ... no ... I won't say it."
"You started to say did my mother make me sick. The answer is no. My mother and I got along quite well."
"You really love your mother, don't you, Robert?"
"Hell no. I don't love anybody. People give me a pain, all of them."
She pushed her blonde hair away from her face and eyed me strangely. "Do I, Robert?"
"Afraid so."
"You don't love me any more?"
"How can I love anyone who acts the way you do?"
"How do I act, Robert?"
"Unreasonable."
"I don't mean to be unreasonable."
"Well, you are."
"Robert, let's not fight. Let's go to bed and make love."
I made a face. "No thanks, I'm already sick."
"Am I really that repulsive to you now, Robert?" Her face was ashen.
Again I was sorry I said what I did. "No, Abbie. It's just that I feel like hell. Something I ate, maybe."
"Maybe," she said slowly, "it was the whiskey you drank at your mother's."
"I've drunk whiskey at home before and it never made me sick."
"Did you say at home? Is that your home, where your mother lives? I thought your home was here with me."
"Don't make a big thing out of that, please. I don't feel like fighting."
"You seem to be doing quite a bit of it."
"Look, I'm sick to my stomach. Will you leave me alone?"
"You've been poisoned, Robert," she said firmly. "I know you have."
I stared at her. "W-What?"
"You've been poisoned. What's more, I think your mother has been poisoning my father regularly. I think she's killing him by inches. She wants to get rid of him so she can have ... well, you know what I mean."
I stood up now and glared at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"
She knocked her blonde hair out of her eyes again. "It's just a feeling I have. I think your mother would like to get rid of me, too. Both me and my father. Then she could have her son and lover back with her all the time."
"Nuts. That's nonsense."
"Is it? I doubt it."
"What makes you think such a thing?"
"Because my father is growing more and more ill by the day."
"If you think she's poisoning your father, why don't you go to the police?"
"Because I can't. If I did that, she'd tell them he was a ... homosexual."
"So what about it? He is, you know."
She started to cry again but stopped it almost immediately. "What's happened to everybody, Robert? You, me. your mother, my father. What's going on with us?"
"The whole thing is a goddamned awful mess," I said and meant it.
"I agree with you. Everything is all fouled up and it's all your mother's fault."
"I wouldn't say that. I'd say it was mostly your father's fault. What woman wants to be married to a fag?"
She changed the entire context of our conversation then. "Robert," she said, "have you thought any more about answering that ad in the paper, the one about the exciting couple wanting to meet another couple?"
"No," I said shortly.
"Maybe it might be good for both of us."
"Forget it. I'm not interested in anything at the moment. I'm too damned sick."
"I think we ought to try it, Robert. If we don't, who knows what's going to happen to us? As it is, we're drifting further and further apart every day."
"Big deal," I growled.
"Don't you care about saving our marriage?"
"How would screwing two other people help our marriage?"
"I don't know, but I've heard that it's helped other couples."
"Who said so?"
"Lots of people say so. I've heard it many times."
"Nuts."
"It might be good for you, Robert. At least, it would be better than going over to your mother's house and screwing her."
"I don't intend going there again."
She sighed. "You say that now because you're upset, but I wonder if you really mean it."
"I mean it. The hell with her."
"Is it the hell with me, too. Is that your attitude now?"
"I wish you'd leave me alone. I've told you over and over that I'm sick."
"I don't care if you are, Robert. I've got hot pants something awful. I can't stand it any longer. I'm burning up and my husband won't do anything about it."
"Take the car and go out to that Sexualis joint. You'll find some guy there who'll be more than willing to lay you."
"That's a fine way to talk to your own wife."
"It's the way I happen to feel."
"Are you sure that's the way you feel."
"You're damned right I'm sure. Now leave me alone."
"All right, Robert. I'll leave you alone, but let me tell you what I'm going to do right now."
"All right, tell me and then shut up."
She drew herself up and glared at me fiercely. "I'm going over next door and get Hu Chou and ... suck off his Chinese cock. How do you like that, you son of a bitch?"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THINGS WENT FROM BAD TO WORSE for Abbie and me, and for the next three weeks we scarcely acknowledged one another's presence. She rarely spoke to me, and then did so only when speaking was an absolute necessity. I felt pretty much the same way toward her, avoiding her as much as possible, even to the point of sleeping on the sofa. This went on, as I've said, for about three weeks until one day she told me she was going to call up the people about the ad in the paper.
I merely grunted. I was lying on my sofa at the time, having a drink, my stomach having long since gotten over it's upset condition.
"Do you want me to call these people or not, Robert?" she asked, hands on hips. "Just say yes or no. I can't tell what you mean by a grunt."
"No, I don't want you to do anything except get lost," I growled.
"Somebody has to do something. You won't do anything. You're getting uglier every day."
"Why shouldn't I? It's not often a guy has a wife who likes sucking off a Chink."
She flushed. "I didn't suck him off. I just laid him."
"I'll bet."
"It's the truth. He got on top of me and stuck it in, and what's more, I liked it. Hu Chou has a big one, baby."
"About as big as yours, I'll bet."
"I don't have a big one. I have a small, tight cunt and you know it, or at least you do if you can remember that far back."
"Go away. Take a walk."
"I won't go away. I'm going to call this couple and see if they can't help us. Living this way is unbearable."
"You can say that again."
"Do you agree then? Shall I call them?"
I shrugged. "Suit yourself."
She went to the phone without saying another word to me. I didn't bother listening to her end of the conversation, so I didn't know what she said at first.
She came back to where I lay after a minute or so. "They weren't in," she stated flatly. "I'm to call back later. I mean, the husband wasn't in."
"What good do you think that'll do?" I asked.
"We've been over that before. It's worth trying. That's all I have to say about it." She turned and walked to the bedroom and slammed the door, something she had been doing quite a bit of recently.
It was my day off from work and I'd been in and out of the house all day long, hardly knowing what to do with myself. Now I got off the sofa and walked out of doors. Immediately I saw the blonde girl who sometimes stayed next door with Hu Chou. I looked at her and saw she was wearing an extremely short skirt which showed off her shapely legs in excellent fashion. I felt a bit of interest mounting in me and called over to her.
"Hi," I said. "How are you?"
She turned and saw me and smiled. "Hello, I haven't seen you in the yard recently. Have you been ill?"
"Not recently."
"Hu Chou isn't at home. If your wife ... doesn't object, why don't you come over?"
Funny thing. This girl had lived next door to me for several months (at least she was there a part of the time) and I still didn't know her name. What was more, neither did Abbie. I walked over to where she stood on the porch and looked up at her.
"What's your name?" I asked. "I don't know it even yet."
"It's Mary Breen."
"Glad to know you," I said, realizing that this sounded somewhat foolish. I flushed slightly. "I guess you know what I mean."
"Yes, I do. Want to come ... inside for a while?"
"Some other time," I told her, thinking about Abbie inside the house and more than likely watching the whole thing.
"Very well. I understand."
"Tell me something, will you? I'm not prying into your affairs, but I'm curious about what your relationship is to Hu Chou."
She looked about carefully and lowered her voice. "He doesn't want people to know," she said, "but I'm his wife."
"Oh ... why doesn't he want people to know?"
"For a Chinese it's considered almost a disgrace to be married to a white woman. He doesn't want his Chinese friends to find out about us."
"I see."
She did a startling thing then. Stepping back inside of the house where no one else could see her, she lifted her short skirt and showed me she wasn't wearing pants. She placed her other hand on her hip and began to wiggle her butt about, crooking her forefinger of her left hand at me in beckoning fashion. I shook my head, glancing at the side window of our house to see if Abbie was looking at me. She was. I could just barely make out her form standing back from the window a few steps. Again I shook my head slightly at Mary and a look of disappointment spread over her pretty face. She lifted her skirt higher and shot her loins forward so I could see her cunt. I became hard instantly and wanted very much to enter the house and throw her to the floor and top her, but something held me back. Not that I felt I owed any loyalty to Abbie. I didn't. It was something else that prevented me from satisfying my urge, and while I stood there uncertainly I saw a look of anger come over Mary's face, and she suddenly slammed the door, shutting off my pleasurable view of her cunt.
I sighed, and after a moment walked back to my own yard. I saw Abbie at the front door now. She was glaring at me and knocking her hair out of her eyes at the same time.
I looked at her and grinned.
The phone rang inside of our house before she could say anything, and she went to answer it. I turned my glance in the direction of the house next door but couldn't see Mary. Her door was still closed. While I was looking at it, Abbie came running out of the house."
"My father!" she cried. "Something's happened to him. The police found him lying in the park. Are the keys in the car?"
"Yes, I'll go with you," I said.
She stopped and turned about quickly. "No," she said. "I don't want you to go with me. I'll look after him myself." She jumped into the car, started the motor, backed out and was gone before I could stop her. I watched the car disappear down the street.
It was several hours later that Abbie returned. She was glum and wouldn't talk to me about her father at first.
"What's wrong with him?" I asked at length. "You can at least tell me that."
"He's very ill," she said. "That damned mother of yours, I could kill her."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean ... my father is very ill, damn it, and your mother poisoned him!"
"Are you sure?"
She nodded. "I know she did. The doctor said he'd been poisoned."
I was sitting on the sofa. Now I got up and went to her and picked her up in my arms.
"What are you doing?" she gasped. "I'm going to make love to you, Abbie," I said gently.
"A fine time for lust, if you ask me."
"Not just lust. Love, Abbie."
Her eyes brightened. "You mean you actually want to take me to bed?"
"Yes, I'm going to."
"Why? Are you feeling sorry for me?"
"Partly, but mostly it's because I have a hard-on for you."
"Do you love me, Robert?"
"Yes, Abbie. I've just realized how much."
"If I let you screw me, will you promise me one thing?"
"All right," I replied, knowing in advance what the promise would be.
"If I let you do it to me, Robert, you must promise never to screw your mother again. Will you promise me that?"
"Yes."
She laughed. "Oh, Robert, hurry, take me to bed."
I carried her to the bedroom and placed her on the bed. She hurriedly threw off her clothing while I did the same. I got on the bed and ran my hands up and down her lush, smooth body. My penis was as stiff as it had ever been in my life. She was fascinated at the sight of it.
"Robert," she said, "you're so hard and big. You haven't been this way with me in a long time. What's happened to you?"
"I don't know," I muttered as I sank the shaft into her cunt and began to pump. "It just happened."
She grunted as I went deep. "Oh, Robert, I've waited ... so long for you to ... do this to me. Make me ... cream all over the place, honey."
"Kiss me," I said, and pressed my mouth on hers.
She kissed me wetly, passionately, and ran her tongue over mine frantically. I pulled away after a moment. "Oh, Robert! I'm so hot! Blow off in me ... as many times as you can! I want your sap so very much, darling!"
She began biting me lightly on the neck and cheek, and each time her teeth sank into my flesh I pumped my dick into her, and finally I squirted a long, hot stream of sap into her.
"More, Robert," she begged. "Keep it going for a long, long time, darling."
I grunted and kept on pumping, in and out, in and out. She moaned and groaned and grunted with every stroke, and I began to perspire on her body freely. She, too, perspired, and our two sweats mingled even as our sex juices did.
"Robert!" she cried. "Sink it deep into me, baby!"
I drove my cock into her with such ferocity that she yelled from the pain of it.
"Oh, Robert ... you're a better man than anyone. You're ... the greatest man on earth."
Hearing her say this really sent me. I pumped faster now, and again I squirted a long stream of sap into her.
"Don't stop, Robert! Do it a third time! You can do it! I know you can! Make me, honey, make me live again!"
I made her live again by blowing off for the third time.
"My husband's screwing me!" she cried. "Oh, my husband is ... screwing me. Oh ... how perfectly wonderful to have my husband...."
Her words were cut off because I had begun to pump once again, ramming my hardened cock into her crevice.
She spoke to me then, but in another context. "I found out who the people were ... who placed the ad in the paper ... honey. It was ... our neighbor, Hu Chou, and his ... woman."
I scarcely heard her for a moment, but then it dawned on me what she'd said and I stopped my movement.
"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously. "Can't you do it again?"
"That's about it, Abbie. I'm tired," I told her.
"Isn't it exciting that the couple should live right next door?"
I pulled it out of her and got to my feet.
"What's the matter, Robert?" she asked, her voice strained. Did I say something wrong?"
"I was making love to you, Abbie," I said quietly.
"W-What?"
"I said I was making love to you." I looked at her steadily, and then left the room and went to the bathroom where I kept myself from throwing up only with difficulty. For the first time since we'd been married I had known a few minutes of real love for my wife, and precisely in the middle of it she'd brought up the fact that she wanted the Chinese next door to lay her. It was enough to make a horse throw up. If my stomach hadn't been so upset, I would have drunk myself into oblivion. What the hell was the use in being sober? I left the bathroom after a few minutes and returned to the bedroom door. Glancing in at her, I saw her fingering herself, her eyes tightly closed.
"Having fun?" I asked sarcastically.
She turned and looked at me innocently. "Honey," she said, just as if I hadn't gotten angry at her. "If you can't screw me, why don't you suck me? I'd love that."
"Go take a bath," I said.
"What?"
"Go take a bath. I'm having a drink."
"If I take a bath, will you?"
"Go take a bath," I repeated.
She got up from the bed, her finger still in her cunt and came close to me. "Kiss me, honey."
I kissed her lightly, although not wanting to.
"Thank you," she said in mock fashion. "I'll go now and take that bath. Don't drink too much, Robert."
"Don't count on it," I said.
"Oh, I'm so happy," she exclaimed. "Aren't you?"
"Yes, very happy. Delighted with everything."
She apparently missed the sarcasm in my voice. "I'm so glad, Robert, so very glad."
"You certainly got over feeling depressed about your father in a hurry," I said.
She laughed strangely. "Now that you've made love to me, everything seems to be better."
I got my pants and put them on and went into the living room and poured myself a drink. Abbie, I reflected, was stupid. She couldn't understand that her remark about the couple next door had made me sick. Maybe, I told myself, I became sick too easily. Maybe I should be a bit tougher inside, but a guy is what he is, and he can't be anything else.
"Want to come in and wash my back, honey?" she called out to me.
"No," I called back. "I'm having a few drinks," I had quite a few drinks, too, and downed them in a hurry. I lay back on the sofa and relaxed, feeling the buzz from the whiskey and liking it. I must have dropped off to sleep, for I awakened with a start and saw it was dark in the room. I got to my feet, shook my head and groped for the lightswitch. When the lights were on, I looked for Abbie, but she wasn't in the room. "Abbie," I called, "where are you?" There was no reply. I searched the house, going from room to room, but she wasn't in the place. I swore, for I had a good idea of where she'd gone-next door to see Hu Chou. I took a deep breath and tried to put Abbie out of my mind. I was fed up with her all the way. "Screw you, dear wife," I muttered. "I'm going out somewhere."
I showered and shaved, and put on my best suit and left the house, not bothering with taking the car. I preferred to walk. I passed by the cafe and glanced in, but the blonde woman, Lenza's mother, wasn't behind the counter. A man was. I thought about going in but rejected the idea. I was too up in the air for Lenza at the moment.
It dawned on me then that I'd been attempting to act like a mature married man for more than four months, and that I wasn't a mature man at all.
I hurried along the street, shivering. "Hell, I'm just a crazy, mixed-up kid," I muttered. I can't make it without my mother-love.
It didn't occur to me, at the time, that my mother-love remark was little more than half-baked nonsense.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHEN I ENTERED MY MOTHER'S HOME, I saw that damned Alfie lying on the sofa having a drink. He looked as if he thought he owned the place. Anger returned to me, and I strode over to him quickly.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I barked.
He smiled. "Just having a drink. Your mother is taking a nap and Mr. LeBlanc, as you call him-I used to call him uncle, by the way-is taking a shower." He smiled again and took a sip of his drink, putting the glass down on the cocktail table. "How are you, my dear chap?"
"What do you mean, Mr. LeBlanc is taking a shower. He's ill. Isn't he in a hospital?" It occurred to me then that Abbie hadn't said her father was in a hospital. She hadn't said where he was.
"A hospital? Why should he be in a hospital."
"Because he's supposed to be very ill."
"He's been drinking a lot and doesn't eat much, but he certainly isn't ill, old fellow."
"Abbie said he's very ill, damn it."
Alfie sat up straight. "My dear chap, your wife, Abbie, will lie about anything. I daresay she thought you weren't paying any ... I beg your pardon ... enough attention to her, so she tried to create sympathy for herself by telling you he was ill. It's an old female trick, you know."
"I don't believe you," I said hotly.
He waved a hand at the stairs. "There he is, in person. Take a look and see for yourself."
I glanced at the stairs and saw Mr. LeBlanc coming down them. He looked thin and dissipated, but not ill. I swore harshly. He came all the way down the stairs, nodded curtly to me and went to the phone. I watched him as he spoke over it and saw him hang up. He came back to where the two of us were.
Speaking to Alfie and not me, he said, "I have to go downtown. Perhaps you'll be good enough to entertain Robert, Alfie."
Alfie smirked. "I'll certainly try."
Mr. LeBlanc turned to me. "Your mother didn't sleep last night. She's napping. Please don't awaken her for a while." Saying this, he nodded to us and walked out the front door before I could say a word.
Alfie gave his blonde head a toss and laughed. "I say, this strikes me oddly. He's asking me to entertain you in your own home."
"I don't live here any more," I said coldly.
"Oh, my dear chap. You don't have to pretend with me. I know how you feel about your mother. Everyone does."
"Is that so?" I barked. "Well, maybe you're wrong, buster."
He got to his feet hurriedly. "Oh, dear, did I say something wrong? I've offended you, haven't I?"
"Spit it out. I asked you a question when I first came in. I'll repeat it. What the hell are you doing here?"
"My uncle, that is, Mr. LeBlanc, asked me over." He paused and tapped his teeth with his finger. "May I ask you something?"
"I don't know. What is it you want to know?"
He raised his brows, sighed and sat down on the sofa. "You aren't getting along with Abbie very well, are you?"
"That's my business, not yours."
"Come now, Robert. Let's don't be offensive toward one another. Let's be friends."
I glanced up at the mezzine to see if my mother was in view. She wasn't. I swore to myself, picked up a bottle of whiskey, taking care to choose one that hadn't previously been opened, and poured myself a drink. I carried it across the room and stood looking out a window and sipping the whiskey.
"Are you hard up, Robert?" he called over, his voice sounding strange.
I turned around slowly and faced him. "What?"
He got up and moved partway across the room, all the while eying me intently. "Please don't be offended at what I'm about to say, but I remember that first time I met you ... you let me cornhole you, and I enjoyed it very much. However, corning a man isn't my bag. I like to ... receive, not give. If you're hard up for a piece, I'd be glad to allow you to...."
"Knock it off, Alfie boy," I said harshly. "Don't go on the make for me."
"I can't help it, Robert. You're such a handsome chap. You make me very hot."
"Go someplace else and be hot," I snapped. "I'm not interested."
He turned around and went back to the sofa and lay down on it, never taking his eyes off me. "I can't leave, Robert. Mr. LeBlanc would be furious if I did."
"Tough."
"Please forgive me for propositioning you, Robert. You must understand that I can't help it."
"Okay, you can't help it."
"Come over here, will you, Robert? I want to show you something."
Reluctantly, I walked over near him, and when I was about ten feet from him, he unzipped his pants and took out his prong. It was hard.
"Put it away!" I snapped. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
"Don't I have a pretty one, Robert. Just look at it. I dare you to look at it."
"I think," I said slowly, "that you have the idea that I'm a latent homosexual. I'm not. So put it away before I toss you out on your ear."
He replaced his prick in his pants, zipped himself up, and laughed nervously. "You mean that didn't excite you at all, Robert?"
"No."
"How strange it must be to be normal," he murmured. "I can't conceive of anyone not liking it." He emphasized the last word.
"Everyone has his own hang-up," I said absently, and walked away from him. I glanced up at the mezzanine again.
"Why do you keep looking up there?" he wanted to know. "Your mother is taking a nap."
"If I want to look up there, I will, buster. Don't ask so many questions. I'm not in the mood for answering them."
"Did you come to make your mother, Robert?" he asked, disregarding what I'd just said.
"Shut up, damn it."
"Very well. I'm only trying to be of help to you."
"What makes you think I need help from you?"
"I can tell," he said, smiling at me. "I know when a person is having a bad time of it."
I took a drink. "You might as well save your breath. I won't give you what you want."
"I'm perfectly willing to wait."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He laughed. "Oh, you'll find out."
"You know something? You're getting me angry."
"Please don't be angry with me, Robert. I have to make my pitch, you know. However would I get any cocks in my mouth if I didn't try?"
"Why don't you stick to guys who go for it? Why pick on me?"
"You're handy, Robert, and besides, you're very sexy and good-looking."
I sucked in my breath and tried to control my temper. I was close to beating the hell out of this fag, but I knew that this was more than likely what he wanted me to do, among other things. I turned away from him, glanced up the stairs again, set my glass down and walked out of the room. Going to the bathroom wasn't necessary, but at least it would get me away from him for a while. I started to urinate and was astonished when my penis became hard. I couldn't urinate, so I tucked my hardon back in my pants and washed my hands, trying to get my mind off things in general. I wondered if his sex talk had done this to me.
"Forget it," I muttered. "Don't even think about that bastard."
"My, what a pretty one," Alfie said from behind me. "How exciting to see that I've given you a hard-on."
I whirled about quickly and angrily. "What the hell do you mean sneaking up behind me? You're getting too goddamned bold. Just about one more move from you and I'm going to lay one on you." He laughed. "Delightful thought. Why don't I you? I'd love it dear boy."
I growled something and brushed past him and j returned to the living room, my blood boiling now. I He followed me and stood off to one side of the room, his dick out of his pants.
"Look at me," he smirked. "I dare you to look at me.
I looked at him. "You're out of your mind," I said. "What are you on, whiskey, pot or what?"
"Nothing, dear boy. I'm just hot for you. I want to suck you off, baby."
"You son of a bitch!" I yelled. "You want to get yourself killed, then keep this up."
"Go ahead. Abuse me. I told you. I'd love to be beaten up by you, handsome boy."
I gave my head a shake. "How the hell do I handle you? You beat anything I ever saw."
He laughed. "Why don't you let me? Then you won't be bothered by it any longer."
"No thanks."
"Please?" His eyes were beseeching me now. "No, goddamn it. How many times do I have to tell you?"
"I could show you a simply marvelous time, Robert."
"I wish you'd get out of here." I was trembling all over now. "I don't know how long I can keep my temper."
"Don't keep it, baby. Get mad at me, beat me up. After you beat me up, I'd be happy to gratify you otherwise, too."
He came closer to me, stuck out his jaw invitingly, and I couldn't restrain myself. I hit him as hard as I could, and he nearly did a flip-flop as he hit the floor. He lay there with a dazed grin on his face, and I couldn't help noticing that his dick was leaking. The sap was pouring out of him and shooting up into the air two or three feet. I turned my gaze away from him, feeling sick to my stomach, but oddly fascinated by such a perverse thing.
"Oh, baby!" he cried drunkenly. "How perfectly wonderful. I love you for that." He got to his feet, staggered and lunged toward me, but I sidestepped him and moved away. "Baby," he repeated. "Hit me again, please." His dick was still spraying sap, and now it was running down the front of his pants and striking the carpet.
I felt like grabbing him and heaving him out into the street, but I didn't want to touch him. He fell down again but got back to his feet, and I saw that his mouth was bleeding now, something I hadn't noticed before.
"Baby," he muttered. "I love you, baby. Let me take you ... please."
"Get lost!" I yelled, and started for the front door. I tripped over a hassock, and before I could get up he had thrown himself on top of me and was spraying his juice on my pants. Again I wanted to throw up. I managed to knock him aside and get to my feet, but he, too, got to his feet, and I saw his eyes were almost closed now with passion.
"Baby," he mumbled, "Alfie's got hot pants for you."
"You crazy son of a bitch. Are you asking me to kill you?" I yelled at him.
He lunged at me again and this time caught hold of my arm. I knocked him aside in disgust, and at the same time I heard a voice.
"ROBERT!"
I glanced up quickly and saw my mother standing on the mezzanine. "Catch this," she called down, and threw something black and shiny to me. I caught it and saw it was a gun. "Kill that bastard, Robert."
I looked at her in horror. "W-What?"
"I said, kill that bastard. He's wrecked my home and marriage. Kill him!"
I looked at the gun, my mind confused. I glanced up again at my mother.
"Kill that cocksucker!" she screamed at me. "If you don't, you're no son of mine!"
I stared at the gun again, my mind growing more and more confused.
"Kill him! We'll tell the police he was trespassmg.
I lifted the gun, hardly knowing what I was doing.
"Don't do it," Alfie begged, a look of terror in his eyes. "Please don't do it. I'll leave. Please don't do as she says."
"KILL THAT LOUSY COCKSUCKER!"
The words, the command, seemed to reverberate throughout the room. I glanced down at the gun in my hand once again.
"Please!" Alfie cried, his tone really strange sounding now. "Please ... don't ... do ... it ... Robert ... please?"
"Kill him," my mother intoned.
I raised the gun and fired without even realizing what I was doing. Alfie slumped to the floor, and I dropped the gun and looked at the blood oozing out of his chest.
"That's a good boy, Robert," my mother called down to me. "You did the right thing. He was trying to ruin you, too, just as he did Mr. LeBlanc. You did the right thing."
I nodded, my mind totally in a daze now. "Yes, I did the right thing, Mother," I muttered in a monotone. "He was trying to ruin me."
"You may come upstairs now, Robert, and make love to me. I know that's what you've come for."
"Yes, Mother," I said numbly. "That's what I came for."
"Come up, dear. Come up and love your mother. Mother is very hot for you, dear, just as she always has been."
I nodded numbly and headed for the stairs.
"That's right, Robert dear. Come up the stairs to me. Mother will love you as no one else ever will."
I was at the top of the stairs now, and she took my hand and led me into her bedroom. She lay down on the bed and spread her legs far apart. She was wearing only a negligee, with nothing underneath it. She grinned at me oddly.
"Get on top of me, Robert. You must hurry or you'll be late for school, dear."
"Mother," I mumbled. "What're you saying?" I went closer to her and looked into her dark eyes. They were wild and glassy. "What's the matter with you, Mother?"
"Nothing, dear. I'm just so hot for my dear boy."
"You said something about me going to school," I faltered. "What did that mean?"
"Get on top of me, dear. You mustn't be late for school." She began to writhe her hips about in a grotesque manner.
I studied her eyes. It dawned on me then. She was stark, raving mad, and I'd killed a man because she had ordered me to do so.
"Get on top of me and gratify me, dear," she muttered thickly. "And be sure to come straight home from school."
I left the room, raced down the stairs, yanked open the front door and started running down the street. I've been running ever since.
