"The Lady or the Tiger?" is a classic tale that has haunted generation after generation of readers and philosophers. What does the average person do when faced with a serious choice that will affect his or her future? Are our major decisions in life based upon logic or chance? Or do we, as psychologists and sociologists contend, act and react in life according to our conditioning?
Mom's Helping Hand offers interesting insight into this particular human phenomenon. In the final scenes Cynthia is faced with a "Lady or the Tiger" decision. The author tells us she took the one logical course and leaves the reader to decide what that course was.
This suggests that Cynthia made her decision according to her conditioning, and that in effect is the story of this novel. Cynthia Freeman is a divorcee struggling to come to grips with her situation in society, and this struggle takes place within the context of the rapidly changing values in our contemporary society. She is faced with an identity crisis from the very opening page. We follow her as she establishes her sexual identity with the use of young boys for lovers and see her enter into an incestuous relationship with her own twelve-year-old son.
One of the interesting facets of novels such as this is the emotional turmoil concerning fixed values and standards in society. Authors such as Ms. Gray illustrate the general confusion that exists in our society in relation to morality. They force us to question whether morality is, after all, limited to sexual behavior, or should be equally involved in every facet of our daily life.
Many people wonder what makes a person change dramatically, seemingly disintegrate, almost overnight. In this story Cynthia goes through such a change, but the author suggests that her dramatic change had been in the making for over five years. She was conditioned for the things that happened to her, just as she was conditioned by those events for her decision in the final pages of this novel.
Psychologists and sociologists will attest to the fact that Cynthia Freeman's behavior pattern is not uncommon in our society. With similar conditioning, a number of women have reacted and behaved in much the same pattern Cynthia follows in this novel.
The reader will have to decide for himself what Cynthia's "little secret" really is, and in so doing the reader may develop some additional insight into his or her own behavior and that of the people next door.
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CHAPTER ONE
Cynthia's heart skipped a beat and her eyes strained in the pale moonlight reflected on the soft white sand. It wasn't her imagination! There was a young boy on the dark, deserted beach. He was stretched out on the sand, and he was stark naked! What's more, her astonished eyes told her, he has an erection and he's playing with himself!
The thirty-five-year-old woman's breath caught in her throat as her eyes seemed to rivet themselves on the young boy's hand moving slowly up and down at his crotch. Cynthia knew that the boy was about the age of her son, twelve-year-old Marty, and for a moment she had an urge to run over to the youth, scold him and send him home. She almost had to giggle out loud when she realized how ridiculous that would be, particularly when the sight of the youth playing with himself had ignited such a strong stirring between her thighs.
Cynthia Freeman stood transfixed on the cool, damp sand at the southern tip of Diamond Head Beach. She held her high-heeled sandals in her hand as her eyes remained glued to the erotic sight of the young boy masturbating just a few yards down the beach.
Cynthia felt flushed. Part of it was the liquor she had consumed in the club at her hotel down the beach. She was high, a rare state for a woman who only occasionally indulged herself with alcohol. She was also intoxicated with the excitement of anticipation. For tonight Cynthia was going to be laid and by a tall, gorgeously muscular black man! The very thought of it made her nipples tingle and press against the sheer fabric of her cocktail dress!
It had been five years since Cynthia Freeman had been in bed with a man, five long, lonely, frustrating years! The last time had been with Richard-in their six years of marriage he had never allowed Cynthia to call him Dick, and she could hardly remember what it had been like. Perhaps it was because they had lived under such tension together and fought so much. Or perhaps it was because the divorce had been so bitter and Cynthia had disciplined herself to erase that period from her life.
Cynthia had graduated from college at the age of nineteen, the youngest in her class, and had immediately gone to work for the Wymore Savings and Loan. To celebrate her sixteenth year with the organization, as well as her promotion to become the first female vice president of a savings and loan in Northern California, the board of directors had voted to send her to represent the company at the savings and loan association convention in Hawaii.
The thirty-five-year-old woman had taken several quiet steps toward the young boy before she even realized she had moved! She seemed to be drawn toward him like metal filings toward a strong magnet! She could feel her superheated blood pumping through her veins. Her eyes were fastened hard on his slender young prick held so firmly and lovingly in his youthful hand.
The young boy was looking the other way, watching the gentle waves lap against the pearl white shore as he fondled himself slowly and deliberately. Cynthia moved several steps closer, until she was practically standing directly over the naked child.
Clouds that had dimmed the light of the moon drifted by and the twelve-year-old child's lean body was suddenly bathed in a warm lovely glow. Cynthia was surprised as she stared at his straining cock. It was much longer than she would have imagined a young boy's organ would be. She smiled to herself when she realized that she hadn't seen her own son's penis in years.
During the past five years Cynthia Freeman had forced all thoughts of sex from her conscious mind. She had awakened several times pleasantly excited and surprised to find her fingers exploring her pussy, but she justified these erotic dreams with the lonely frustration of her existence and renewed her dedication to her career.
Cynthia could feel beads of moisture forming on the sensitive lips of her pussy as she feasted her eyes on the young boy's swollen prick. It was so precious, so irresistible! The shaft was long and slender. The head was bright pink and seemed to glisten with the dampness of his excitement like a lovely flower budding at the tip of a graceful stalk!
Robbie Marsten's hand quickened its stroke on his rigid cock. His balls were beginning to throb and the twelve-year-old boy knew he was close to that exciting, delicious moment. Robbie's father was the manager of the very exclusive hotel nestled between the tall palms at the southern tip of Diamond Head and the young boy often slipped out of bed late at night for his nocturnal visits to the quiet, deserted beach.
During the day, he helped keep the beach clean. His young eyes feasted on the mysterious flesh of the young girls and women who paraded the hotel beach in daring bathing suits that exposed so much to the growing boy's curious gaze. And when he viewed a particularly sexy girl during the day, Robbie would return to the beach that night to allow his hand and his imagination to satisfy the yearnings in his young manhood.
The lapping waves of the blue Pacific were a sensual music to his young ears. The twelve year old knew that he couldn't be seen unless somebody walked down the beach-and that almost never happened. He could feel the blood pumping through his shaft as he stroked himself faster and faster.
Robbie's heart leaped to his throat when he casually turned his head and suddenly found the pretty blonde woman standing over him.
"Oh!" Robbie gasped, releasing his throbbing prick and starting to jump up. He had never been caught before and his cheeks seemed to be on fire!
"Oh, please don't!" Cynthia said, dropping to her knees in the sand and placing her hand on the boy's chest to prevent him from springing to his feet. The guilty, frightened look on the youth's handsome face tore at her heart! She was ashamed of herself for scaring the darling boy half out of his wits.
"It's all right," she said quietly. "Really. Honestly, I'm not going to scold you or tell on you. What's your name?"
"Robbie," the boy replied automatically. "Gee, lady, I'm sorry...."
"I'm the one who should apologize," Cynthia told the twelve-year-old boy softly. "Look, I caused you to lose your beautiful little hard-on!" she added with a smile.
"I'd better go...."
"Don't be silly, Robbie! I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that. It was naughty of me."
As she spoke, Cynthia's hand moved slowly down across the youth's flat tummy toward his lovely crotch. His prick was only partially erect now, but she saw the slender shaft tremble as she trailed the tips of her fingers toward it.
It was true, she did feel naughty! She also felt terribly intoxicated! The older woman knew that what she was doing was wrong, but she didn't care! She was three thousand two hundred and twenty-seven miles from home, caught up in the romance of the beautiful islands in the middle of the blue Pacific, pleasantly tight on the most delicious rum drinks she had ever tasted, and just minutes away from the exciting prospect of living out a fantasy that had plagued her for years-climbing into bed with a giant black man and having him ravish her tender white body! What right did she have to ruin this cute little boy's fantasy?
Robbie was so frightened, beads of perspiration formed on his youthful brow. What was he supposed to do? He had seen this woman on the beach that very afternoon. In fact, she was one of the factors that had prompted him to slip out of bed and come to the beach tonight! She had long blonde hair that hung in graceful waves to her shoulders and her body was as taut as the skin on a mango.
The woman's low-cut cocktail dressed exposed even more of her tits than her bathing suit! Robbie loved tits, especially big ones like this woman's! In the twelve-year-old boy's mind, Cynthia was one of the sexiest women he had seen all week. She was also a guest at his father's hotel and there would be hell to pay if he did the wrong thing and she told on him!
Robbie's muscles tightened when he felt her fingers wrap around his prick! He wanted to jump up and run away, but he was afraid to do anything that might upset the woman.
"That wasn't nice of me to make you lose your hard-on, Robbie," Cynthia said with a light laugh when she wrapped her fingers around the slender stalk of his prick and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Just the touch of his young organ in her hand made the lips of her pussy quake! It was so warm, so alive with coursing blood and male desire! Her excitement seemed to double when she felt his young organ spring completely erect in her grasp. "There! See? It's all nice and hard again. Now you can play with it and make yourself feel good."
"I ... I can't!" the boy stammered, so embarrassed he wished he were dead! How could he jack off with a pretty woman watching him!
"Don't be embarrassed," Cynthia said sweetly, squeezing his marvelous little prick again in her hand.
"I ... I can't!" the boy cried, jerking his hand free of hers when she tried to guide his young fingers back to his straining crotch.
"It will hurt if you don't," Cynthia giggled. "Or do you want me to do it for you?"
Her heart went out to the child when she saw him blush beet red! She knew she was making the boy miserable. Without waiting for his reply, she brought her face to his lean thigh and rested her cheek on his quivering flesh.
The odor of his excited young sex wafted through her nostrils and she breathed deeply. Holding his rigid shaft in her hand, she pulled his foreskin down until the swollen head of his cock popped up like the cap of a graceful mushroom. The swollen tip of his organ seemed to illuminate like a bright pink beacon before her eyes, and the last five years came crashing in on Cynthia! Her tongue darted out between her full, sensuous lips and flicked at the blood-engorged masculinity she held so firmly in her hand.
Robbie's young testicles expanded and ached as he watched the pretty woman begin licking his prick! It felt so good! Her hot tongue seemed to be burning his excited flesh. He could feel his-heart pounding against her tight fingers wrapped around his pole. The twelve-year-old was still frightened, but he was rapidly becoming more aroused than he had ever been in his young life!
Cynthia's-tongue brought the heady flavor of the child's passion into her mouth and crushed it against her taste buds. The moisture on his excited prick was like the nectar from a sweet tropical fruit! She had to have him in her mouth! She had to sip of the sweetness of his virginal young rod!
Raising her head, she pursed her full lips and brought them lovingly to the throbbing piece of flesh she held in her hand. She captured the swollen head of his cock between her eager lips and began slowly drawing his slender shaft inside her warm oral cavity. The exciting taste of his sex made her entire body quake with the fires of a yearning she had denied herself for so long!
The thirty-five-year-old woman reached down and cupped the boy's expanding balls in her hand as she slid her lips slowly down the length of his young penis. She rubbed the pulsing organ against her inner cheeks and swirled her tongue over its excited surface, sucking him relentlessly into her throat until she felt her lips crush against the spare, silk-like pubic hair at the base.
Robbie tried to choke back a moan of pleasure when he saw his rigid prick disappear into the woman's warm mouth. The hot dampness surrounding his cock made his aching balls twitch in her fondling fingers and his hips arched up to sink his prick even deeper into her pretty face!
Cynthia seemed to become more aroused by the second! She rubbed her quaking thighs together to ease the insistent burning sensation in her wet pussy as she began running her lips up and down the child's excited penis. She felt so wonderfully young and alive again!
She imagined the young boy to be her lover, and here she was on a deserted stretch of moonlit beach thousands of miles from home sucking his delicious cock as the waves lapped just feet from his naked young body! It was like eating the most delicious candy cane in the world! She loved the smooth, polished surface of his hard prick and the way his heartbeat coursed up and down the length of his rigid organ!
It happened even before Robbie knew it was coming! His innocent young body was aroused far beyond its years. The boy thought she was going to devour his aching cock in her hot, hungry mouth! His orgasm erupted with the suddenness of a kona storm. It seemed to begin in his toes, making them curl and dig into the damp sand. It shot up his legs like two powerful rockets that met and exploded in his balls! A tiny animal-like cry escaped from his tightly clenched jaws.
"AAAaaaiiieee!" the twelve-year-old boy moaned.
Cynthia felt it coming. His nuts expanded beneath her kneading fingers, and then a jet of his semen splashed against the roof of her mouth like a wave beating against a stubborn rock. The juice of the child's passion was hot and thick like fresh cream spouting from a cow's udder. She felt it drip down on her tongue and she greedily pulled the sweet nectar into her throat as she sucked as hard as she could on. the young boy's throbbing, spurting penis.
A surge of disappointment swept through the woman's body when she had at last sucked the boy's cock dry and she felt his organ begin to deflate in her mouth.
"I'm ... Gee ... I'm sorry, lady!" the boy gasped.
"Sorry for what?" Cynthia said in a dreamy, far away voice, as she reluctantly withdrew her head from the boy's virginal groin.
"I didn't mean to ... Gee, I mean, well I didn't ... I just couldn't...."
"Robbie, darling, there's nothing to apologize for," Cynthia said softly, reaching out to affectionately fondle the young child's limp organ with the tips of her fingers.
Cynthia fell over in the damp sand when the boy suddenly jumped up and began running up the beach as fast as his young legs would carry him. She watched the child's fleeing body and sighed. The sweetness of his juices filled her body and lingered hauntingly in her mouth. The smoldering embers that had been kept rigidly below the surface of her body for over five years had now burst into open fire with flames that threatened to consume her.
She glanced at her watch and jumped to her unsteady feet when she realized that he would arrive in just ten minutes! Cynthia picked up her shoes and began running toward the distant lights of the hotel. She wanted to brush the sand from her dress and have another drink in her lanai before he arrived!
CHAPTER TWO
Buck Morrow parked behind some heavy ferns alongside the road about half a mile from the hotel and set out to cover the rest of the distance to his appointment on foot. He kept to the side of the road, ready to disappear into the brush at the first sign of an approaching car. The six-foot five-inch Negro knew that his ebony skin was excellent cover at night.
It galled the twenty-three-year-old ex-basketball star to have to creep through the night. He had come to Hawaii after his disgrace in the gambling syndicate scandal in Chicago because some of the Brothers told him the Pacific islands were a melting pot free of racial prejudice. Buck found that relatively true, providing he circulated with the residents.
He had damned near starved to death circulating with the residents! And now that he was firmly established in his lucrative trade as a stud for hot tourist bitches who wanted to wrap their cunts around some strange cock while they were thousands of miles from home, Buck felt he could afford to creep quietly through the night.
The headlights of an approaching car sliced through the indigo night and Buck slipped behind the thick trunk of a tall palm until the car passed. Tourists brought their stinking rotten prejudices with them, and Buck knew the hotels didn't want him seen on their plush manicured grounds.
Moving silently between the buildings on his way to number fourteen, Buck wondered what this Cynthia Freeman would be like. He seldom ever saw his clients ahead of time. Some were rich, spoiled teen-aged girls out for a thrill with a black man. Others were hard up married women in their thirties and forties. Some were horny old gals in their fifties. All were white.
A horny black chick with bread always hired a honky stud. Buck smiled when he thought about the forbidden fruit bit. He didn't give a damn. He serviced them all, young and old, thin and fat, pretty and ugly. They paid two hundred dollars to be fucked, and Buck usually gave them something they'd never forget! He'd learned early to get them to pay in advance. They shelled out when they made the appointment with one of his many agents. Sometimes the honky bitches would take one look at his fourteen-inch cock and back out. If they were paid in advance, it was tough shit as far as Buck Morrow was concerned! He hated their guts anyway!
Buck pressed his back against the wall of the cottage and studied the area carefully. When he was assured that nobody was in sight, he knocked softly on the door.
Cynthia's stomach muscles tightened and her heart pounded in her ear when she heard the soft knock on her door. She quickly drained the straight rum from her glass and walked on unsteady legs to the door.
"Cynthia?" Buck asked, lighting his face with his best porcelain smile.
"Yes," Cynthia said in a small voice.
"I'm Buck," he said, walking boldly into the room.
"My God!" she gasped. "You're so tall!"
He towered over her! Cynthia had to tilt her head back to look into his coal black eyes. His shoulders were breathtakingly broad and the muscles in his arms seemed to ripple beneath his ebony skin.
"Better close the door, Cynthia," Buck said with his fixed smile. "Unless you Want the other guests for an audience."
Cynthia blushed and quickly closed and bolted the door. She turned, pressing her back against the door and stared at the black's sculptured body. His chest was full and deep, yet his firm trunk tapered to a narrow waist. His black T-shirt was skin tight, revealing every curve and muscle of his body. If possible, his dark blue knitted slacks were even tighter! Cynthia felt her cheeks burn as she stared at the hose-like bulge that ran part way down his leg.-Could it really be his prick?
Buck stood quietly, letting her take her time appraising his body. The fixed smile remained on his lips, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief that this one was good-looking and had a sexy build! It sometimes required everything he had to get it up for a flabby-titted, ugly old honky bitch. He wouldn't have that problem with Cynthia! She was about five foot five and well packaged. She had nice, big firm tits, the kind that stood straight out without a bra to hold them up. And there wasn't an ounce of fat on her! In fact, Buck thought to himself, without those big tits she'd almost be too skinny!
"Like what you see, Cynthia?" he asked boldly.
"Yes," Cynthia replied in a small, hesitant voice, her eyes still glued to the bulge in his pants.
"Don't just stand there looking at my cock, Cynthia," Buck said with his thick-lipped smile. "Come over here and take hold of this joy stick." You've paid for it, he wanted to add, but held back. Buck had learned his trade well. He knew that these honky bitches who were willing to pay for it liked to take orders and loved to hear him talk about it.
Cynthia found herself moving toward the giant Negro. It was as if she was being pulled by some mysteriously strong force.
"Feel that cock, Cynthia baby," Buck commanded with a deep rumbling chuckle. "It's asleep now, but I'll bet we can wake it up-right?"
Cynthia's entire body trembled as she reached boldly out and placed her hand on the huge bulge at his crotch. She could hardly believe it was really happening. This dream about being ravished by a black man had begun shortly after her divorce from Richard .and had remained with her these five long years! Was it truly happening, or was she being tortured by her dream again?
"Oh!" she gasped when her fingers encountered the reality of his body. It was his prick all right, and it was soft! How could it possibly be this big and long and still be soft? What would it be like hard?
"How'd you like to suck that hard, Cynthia?" Buck asked with a light laugh.
"I ... don't ... know...." she replied hesitantly. "It's ... it's so big!"
"Wait till I shove it up you, Cynthia," he laughed obscenely. "Maybe you'd like me to lick your cunt. I really dig slipping my tongue into a blonde cunt. You got a blonde cunt, Cynthia?"
"Yes," she replied in an embarrassed voice. She'd never had a man talk to her like this before, and she found it both embarrassing and exciting!
"And do you like it licked?"
"Yes," she said with flushing cheeks.
"I want to see your blonde cunt, Cynthia," he said quietly. "Don't you want to see my black cock?"
"Yes," Cynthia replied, her breath coming heavier and her heart pounding in her ears as his language made her pulse quicken.
"Why don't, we peel these threads and get comfortable?" he asked with a smile. "Here, let me help you."
Cynthia stood starkly still as he walked around behind her and began untying her halter top. She had purposely worn nothing beneath her cocktail dress and the fresh air made the skin on her breasts tingle when he dropped her halter to her waist. She saw his ebony black hands slip beneath her armpits to cup her heavy breasts and the contact made her tremble.
"Ummm! That's one nice set of tits, Cynthia!" he whispered in her ear, twisting her erect nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. ."Yes, sir, one great pair of knockers!"
Cynthia's body had never been so alive before in her life! Every inch of her flesh seemed to be sensitized and burning. The sight of his jet black fingers kneading her pale white breasts sent shivers racing down her spine! Sparks flew from her sensitive nipples down to her groin like tiny bolts of lightning.
Cynthia's entire body trembled when she saw his hands slowly glide down to her waist. She watched him with fascination as he unsnapped her dress and worked it down her full hips. Why did the color of his skin excite her so?
Buck felt his balls come to life when he saw her white ass come into view. Her buttocks were full, yet firm-like graceful lumps of sculptured ivory. He pulled her dress down her thighs and let it drop to a circle around her ankles. Buck liked it when they didn't wear anything beneath their dresses!
"Turn around!" he said in a firm voice edged with a note of command.
Cynthia automatically began turning, never realizing that she was gradually giving him the power to be her master. She stepped out of her dress and stood quietly before him. Excitement coursed her veins when she saw the lust in his bright eyes.
"Now that's a nice blonde cunt!" he said, his tongue swiping obscenely across the width of his thick lips. "Yes, sir, a real nice cunt! Does it taste as good as it looks, Cynthia?"
"I ... I don't know," she replied with a blush.
"You mean you've never tasted your own pussy?" he said with a laugh.
"How could I?" she said in a small voice.
"Well, here, Cynthia baby," he laughed, stepping over and placing his huge ebony hand between her legs. "We'll give you a taste!"
"OH!" Cynthia gasped when she suddenly felt his stiff finger shoved deep into her vagina.
Buck withdrew his finger from her cunt and brought it up to her lips. It was moist and glistened with her fluids. He held it under her nose for a moment, then brought it to her sensual mouth.
"Taste it!" he ordered.
Cynthia automatically obeyed, opening her mouth and darting her tongue between her lips to lick his black finger. Was it her imagination, or did it have the same exciting flavor she had taken from the nectar of young Robbie's prick just a few minutes earlier?
"Taste good?" he asked.
"Yes," she said softly. Cynthia couldn't get over how his words both embarrassed and aroused her at the same time. She had lived a sheltered life, even in her marriage, and all of this was terribly new and strange to her. It seemed to arouse an animal part of her nature!
"That really the first time you've tasted cunt, Cynthia?" he demanded with his porcelain smile.
"Yes."
"You mean you've never gone down on a girl?" he said slowly.
"I'm ... I'm not a lesbian!" she snapped indignantly.
"Baby, you don't have to be gay to go down on a chick!" Buck laughed. "Plenty of straight chicks lick each other's slits. They warm each other up to be fucked. Orgies are a blast. Ain't you ever tried an Orgy?"
"No," Cynthia replied softly.
"Well, now, you don't know what you've missed! I've got a beautiful Chinese chick who loves parties. If she gets her mouth on that cunt of yours, she'll have you screaming. Oh, yes-screaming! Maybe we should have us a little three-way party later on. How's that sound, Cynthia?" he asked, placing his hand between her leg and rubbing her gash firmly as he stared into her eyes. He always made this pitch with his clients. It was an easy way to set up a return match, and by working Mai into the scene he could put the bite on the client for an extra hundred or two.
"I don't know," Cynthia replied hesitantly, her crotch burning up beneath the erotic attack of his talented hand.
"Yeah, I'd like to see Mai lick your cunt until you were so hot you were screaming," he remarked, running his finger crudely up her vagina. "Then I'd pull her face away from your crotch and climb on you to fuck you silly! Does that sound good?"
"Yes," she sighed, her heart beginning to pound in her temples as he fondled her expertly. "But right now, I want you!"
"Sure, sure, Cynthia baby," Buck laughed. He pulled his skin tight T-shirt over his head and smiled when he saw her eyes caress his muscular chest and shoulders. "Why don't you take my pants off, baby?"
Cynthia couldn't believe how readily her body obeyed his every command! Without replying, she moved forward and brought her hands to his waist. He wore no belt and her fingers quickly opened the catch on his knit slacks. She pulled his zipper down and discovered that he wore no undershorts. His coal black pubic hair brushed against her hand like steel wool. She grasped the waistband of his slacks in both hands and began pulling them down. They were so tight it was like peeling away a layer of his skin! Finally, she had to drop to her knees on the bamboo matting that served as carpeting in the hotel decorator's eye for a native touch. Cynthia knelt before him like a slave and worked his tight pants free of his hips and thighs.
"OH!" she exclaimed breathlessly when his giant penis whipped free of his pants. The inexperienced thirty-five-year-old woman could hardly believe her eyes! His prick reminded her of an elephant's trunk! It was well over a foot long and it was as thick as a child's arm. The shaft was gnarled like an old tree trunk. Thick, rope-like veins ran in irregular lines around and along the jet black pole, creating sharp bumps and high ridges to add to its almost grotesque size.
The swollen head of his cock was a lighter color than his ebony shaft. It was rich chocolate in color and the size of a large scoop of ice cream! Cynthia was both fascinated and terrified by the giant organ filling her eyes. She had read about black men being hung, but until this very moment she had never believed it. Her eyes bulged as they watched her hands reach out to touch the pulsing thing. She ran her fingers along the length of it, then tried to wrap them around its girth. The tips of her fingers wouldn't touch her palms!
"My God!" she exclaimed. "I never knew a nigger was built like this!" Cynthia could have bitten her tongue the minute the word escaped from her mouth! She knew the blacks were sensitive about being called niggers, but she had never dealt with one on an intimate basis before and it just slipped out of her mouth!
"What's the matter, Cynthia, ain't our white brothers hung like that?" Buck said, forcing his phony porcelain smile on his lips. Nigger! Next she'd be calling him boy!
Buck was no stranger to the word, but it galled him, cut to the depths of his being when it was used on him. It brought every ounce of hatred in his body to a sudden boil. Several of his clients had called him a nigger, and he'd made them pay dearly! Cynthia would pay!
Cynthia relaxed when she saw the smile on his face. Perhaps he hadn't even noticed her use of the word. She would be more careful. Cynthia hated to offend any human being.
"Why don't you lick that chocolate stick, Cynthia," Buck said firmly, reaching out and placing his steel-like fingers on her head and pulling her face to his crotch. He exerted care not to let her feel his anger. He knew how to pay a honky bitch like this off, and she'd get it when he was good and ready!
The strong, acrid odor of his crotch almost made Cynthia gag! She wondered if it was a natural ordor of black people, or the aroma of a penis that saw heavy traffic? Whatever it was it made her stomach muscles tighten and a slight feeling of nausea swept through her system.
"I ... I want you ... to eat my ... pussy," she stammered, unable to force herself to lick his throbbing cock.
The smile remained frozen on Buck's lips, but his anger was boiling over! The proud honky bitch is too good to lick my meat, he snapped to himself. Cool it, he cautioned himself. You'll teach her a lesson, but take your time.
"Sure, Cynthia," he said softly. "I want to run my tongue up and down that wet twat of yours. You better believe it!"
Cynthia took his proffered hand and let him pull her to her feet. She watched him bend over to pull his pants off, then felt his huge hand on her buttocks as he guided her to the bed. He pulled the spread back with a flick of his strong wrist, then picked up a pillow and placed it in the center of the mattress.
"Now you just rest your ass on that pillow, Cynthia baby," he said, pushing her gently down on the bed. "You spread those creamy thighs of yours so your delicious cunt is wide open."
Cynthia blushed as she placed her hips on the pillow and spread her legs wide apart. The way he ordered her about stimulated her so! She watched him kneel between her legs and her heart skipped a beat when he stared into her eyes and ran his pink tongue all around his lips in a lewd gesture.
"Man, that looks like a regular banquet!" he said, reaching out with his long fingers to spread the lips of her pussy. "I'll bet it's as sweet as honey!"
Cynthia's eyes watched him dip his face into her golden crested crotch. The contrast of his ebony skin against her pale thighs made her shudder with excitement! She saw his mouth open. His pink tongue slid between his thick black lips like a slithering snake.
"AAAaaahhhh!" she moaned when his hot tongue slid into the moist valley of her vulva and mashed against her sensitive clitoris. She wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn't! His kneeling black body between her white legs fascinated her!
One of the things Buck hated about honky pussy was that it had no odor at all! Certainly nothing like the strong aroma of a nice black cunt! It was like eating a bowl of plain white rice with no flavor at all. It's not important, he told himself. This is your job, buddy, so get with it! Yodel in her snatch until she comes unglued.
Buck was good at his job. He understood a woman's vulva like few men, and he played with his tongue like a master musician tunes a fine instrument. He teased her clitoris until it was fully erect and quivering like a leaf in a heavy wind. He lapped the length of her gash from her dark pink, puckered asshole to the top of her soft, golden pubic mound. He rolled his tongue into a hard cylinder and rammed it deep into her vagina. He nuzzled his nose up and down her valley.
"Ooooooohhhhh!" Cynthia gasped as her body began to burn with leaping flames that ripped through her starved system with hurricane force. "AAAaaaahhhhh!"
Buck smiled to himself as he heard her groaning with pleasure. She's a hot bitch, he said to himself as he sucked her clitoris between his teeth and began nibbling and scraping it lightly with his teeth.
"OH ... MY ... GOD!" Cynthia gasped. She could see his pink tongue flicking into her golden nest like a hummingbird sipping the nectar from a flower, and the waves of passion that were crashing through her body were so intense she thought she was going to faint! "OOOOOoooooohhhhh!"
"Like that, Cynthia?" he asked, bringing his lips away from her steaming pussy and coursing them lewdly with his tongue.
"Oh, God, yes!" she moaned, her hips arching off the pillow.
"Ready to be fucked?" he laughed, reaching in and rubbing her clitoris with the tip of his finger.
Cynthia's hips jerked and bumped with the contact of his finger on her sensitive love button.
"Yes!"she gasped.
"Say it!"
"Yes!" she moaned. "Fuck me!"
"That's better, baby," he laughed, holding his giant cock in his hand and stroking it fast to make it as hard as steel. He guided it to the golden halo of silken pubic hair that surrounded her crotch and rubbed it against the delightfully soft brush. Then he placed it at the top of her slit and slowly forced it down her wet valley.
"OOoooh! Oh, God!" she moaned when he mashed it against her clitoris and rubbed the swollen tip back and forth.
"Why sure!" he grunted with a lewd laugh. He moved the bulbous head of his prick down her slit until it lodged itself in her hole. This was the moment he loved! Digging his toes into the covers, the giant black reared back and lunged into the pale white body beneath him.
"AAAAAaarrrruuuugggghhhhh!!!"
Cynthia's scream filled the room and echoed off the walls. She had never experienced pain like this in her life! It felt like she was being ripped apart with a dull sword! In her excitement she had forgotten about the size of his penis, and Cynthia now knew that she would never forget it-if she lived through it! She was positive that her vagina was ripped to shreds and bleeding! The pain touched every inch of her flesh. Her muscles tightened until they ached! Her eyes watered until she couldn't see!
"STOP!" she cried. "STOP IT! I CANT TAKE IT!"
Buck laughed heartily and thrust another two inches of his massive cock into her pulsing cunt.
"You're ... killing ... meeeeeee!" she cried, beating her fists against his shoulders and trying to squirm away from the long, thick ebony pole that impaled her body.
"This is what you paid for, Cynthia," Buck laughed meanly, "and you're going to get your money's worth! If you have to pay to get laid, baby, you sure don't want less than what you paid for!"
"AAArrruuugghhhhh!" Cynthia screamed when he punctuated his words with hard thrusts into her ravaged vagina.
Buck's chest expanded when he saw her wince with his words. He seldom ever reminded a client that she had to buy her cock, but this one deserved it-and more! He looked down and saw his thick shaft penetrating her white body. It made him feel good! He jerked his hips and ground down into her to sink the remaining four inches of his throbbing prick into her white belly.
"NO! NO! NO!" she cried. "OH NO! I CAN'T STAND IT!"
The pain was shooting through her like electric shock waves! Her vagina felt like it was being torn into tiny pieces! She felt it expand over and over again to take the thickness of his telephone-pole cock. It felt like it was ramming its way through her tortured body to lodge itself in her throat!
It was all the thirty-five-year-old woman could do to remain conscious! A black cloud kept threatening to drop over her, but she fought against it. Something strange was happening inside her body. The pain did not subside, but there was a new sensation sweeping through her. It was like an undercurrent in the ocean, a giant swell that slipped forward just beneath the surface.
At first, it was just an echo. Then it gained in force and became a cry. Soon it was equal in strength with the ravaging pain sweeping through her.
In her tortured brain, Cynthia recognized the passion swirling through her body. It was intense, yet dimmed by the screaming pain that remained with her as he shoved his giant prick to the depths of her womb. She couldn't understand how she could enjoy anything that hurt this much!
Buck also recognized the symptoms. He'd learn to tune himself to the white women's reactions and he knew that Cynthia was getting good and hot! He began screwing her slowly, running his thick rod in and out of her writhing body with long, strong strokes that made his black balls slap loudly against the cheeks of her white ass. He worked her body like an artist works a canvas, stroking her with gradually increasing screws until she was panting and moaning.
Cynthia hated her body for responding like this when she was in such great pain, but she couldn't control herself. She even felt her hips begin grinding against the pillow to screw her cunt up the fantastic length of his black cock! Then she began bouncing her pelvis up when he started humping her with hard jerks of his hips.
"AAAAAiiiiiieeeeeee!" she screamed when something deep inside her exploded to send brilliant bursts of color flashing wildly before her eyes.
Buck smiled when he felt her cunt grasp his surging cock in the throes of her orgasm. He was hot himself, but he wanted to save his moment for something else he had planned for this girl who called blacks niggers! He fucked her fast and watched her go through a series of spasms in her intense orgasm. Then he felt her body go slack and he knew she was over the hill.
"Aaaahhh!" she sighed when she felt his hard prick slowly withdrawn from her vagina. The screaming ache in her vaginal muscles subsided slowly as it gradually regained its original size.
"How was that, Cynthia baby?" Buck asked casually as he placed his huge hands on her waist and gradually turned her over.
"I got my money's worth, if that's what you mean," Cynthia remarked, remembering his cruel comments.
"Not yet, you ain't!" he laughed.
"I've had all I want," she sighed, wondering why he had turned her so that she was on her belly. She felt him lift her waist and slide the pillow beneath her tummy so that her buttocks were poised high in the air. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Getting ready to ream and cream your little white ass, Cynthia," he chuckled.
"No! NO!" she cried, desperately trying to wiggle away from him. Panic gripped her when she found that he had her pinned down with his strong hands holding her shoulders and his muscular legs forcing her thighs apart. "NO! STOP IT!"
Buck felt a twinge in his balls as he stared down at the bright pink starfish of her anus nestled between the white cheeks of her firm ass. Cornholing a honky bitch always excited him and his cock throbbed in his hand as he guided it between the cheeks of her buttocks.
"The next time you call a man a nigger," he said curtly, "remember this!"
"AAAARRRRUUUUGGGGHHHHH!"
Just before she fainted, Cynthia thought she was being torn apart with a hot poker! The pain screamed through her body and the black cloud fell over her mind.
Buck was disappointed when he felt her body go slack. He wanted her awake for this, but he was used to having these pale mothers black out on him when he rammed his cock up their asses. The fact that she was not conscious didn't diminish his excitement. He watched his shiny black prick slide slowly up her rectum. He pressed it to the hilt in her ass and felt his balls rumble when he saw tiny drops of her blood ooze out around his thick shaft. Holding her waist in his hands, he began fucking her in the ass as hard and fast as he could. He worked his cock in and out of her tail with the force of a powerful piston.
"UUmmmphhh!" he grunted when his testicles erupted to send their molten juices racing up her rectum like a scalding hot enema.
While he was still cumming, Buck yanked his cock out of her ass and flipped her over on her back. He quickly knelt above her face and stroked his cock as he ran the swollen head over her eyes and across her forehead. He brought it down to her nose and shoved it against her nostril, stroking it until a shot of his cream jetted into her nose. He put some foam in her ear, and then forced her lips apart to squeeze the last drop of his hot sperm into her mouth.
"There, you proud bitch," he said aloud, "now you've tasted a black cock!"
He knelt above her unconscious body for a long moment, then slowly began dressing. When he was once again in his T-shirt and knit slacks, Buck crossed to the bureau and picked up Cynthia's evening purse. He took her wallet out and slipped the seventy dollars she had into his pocket. He considered taking her traveler's checks, but decided that would be going too far. She wouldn't report him for the money. She'd never be able to explain what he was doing in her room, and he knew she wouldn't take a chance that he'd spill the whole story.
"Thanks for the tip, hot bitch!" he said with a smile as he let himself out of the cottage.
CHAPTER THREE
"Ouch!" Cynthia moaned when the ocean salt water touched her sore vagina and rectum and sent sharp, stinging pains shooting through her body. She looked around and was relieved to find no one near her in the water. After lolling around the lanai all morning feeling sorry for herself, Cynthia had decided to take a swim to relax her sore muscles. She had forgotten how the salt water would sting her ravished flesh!
Cynthia had skipped the eleven o'clock convention meeting, primarily because sitting down was a very uncomfortable state in her current condition. Even walking was a chore. Each step she took provided her with a painful memory of her adventure with Buck the night before.
Cynthia held her breath and dove headlong into an oncoming wave. After the initial stinging sensation of the salt on her wounded genitals, the ocean felt deliciously relaxing. She swam out to a point beyond where the waves were breaking and began lazily treading water. The warm Hawaiian sun and the temperate ocean water combined to relax her. She gazed back at the white ribbon of sand at the shore and took pleasure at the sight of the tall, graceful palms and the verdant growth lining the Diamond Head Beach.
Cynthia had been furious when she awoke this morning. She found her face covered with his filth and had taken three showers before she felt reasonably clean. Two applications of hand cream to her sore genitals were necessary before she could move about without wincing.
The blonde woman picked up the phone to call the police when she found the seventy dollars missing from her purse. She thought better of it when she realized that she would have to explain Buck's presence in her room. As angry and humiliated as she was, Cynthia forced herself to accept her fate. She even told herself that she deserved everything that had happened to her.
She wondered if the secretary in the hotel travel agency would talk. It was through the young secretary that Cynthia had made the arrangements for Buck to come to her room. The girl, Cynthia was certain, received a percentage of Buck's fee and therefore wouldn't endanger her extra income with idle gossip.
The very thought of her escapade becoming general knowledge made Cynthia shudder! She refused to think about what had motivated her to even consider such an adventure. And the cost, two hundred and seventy dollars, was over half of the total she had saved up for her personal expenses on this trip!
"Hi, Miss Freeman!"
Cynthia turned to find Harold Ackerman, president of Tall Redwood Savings in Crescent City, California, swimming toward her. She had met him yesterday at a committee meeting and they had exchanged pleasant conversation. At forty-five, Harold Ackerman was one of the youngest men attending the convention. Cynthia also knew that he was married and had three children.
"I missed you at the meeting this morning," he said, treading water a few feet away from Cynthia.
"I decided to play hooky," Cynthia laughed. "I didn't think anybody would notice. Was it a good meeting?"
"Fair," Harold replied with a smile. "They're trying to come to grips with the fact that a number of savings and loan companies are facing some serious financial problems, but nobody wants to believe it could happen to his organization. Isn't this water something else?"
"Lovely, isn't it?"
"Like a warm bath. I have to go back in. I burn easily. You'd better be careful with that fair complexion of yours, Miss Freeman."
"Call me Cynthia. And you're right! I can burn to a crisp."
"How 'bout a cool drink under a palm tree?" Harold suggested.
"You're on!" Cynthia laughed.
Harold Ackerman swam directly to shore. Cynthia timed a small wave and body-surfed her way to the white sandy beach. She picked up her towel and dried off, then followed Harold Ackerman to the beach bar.
"Your first visit to the islands, Cynthia?" Harold asked as he handed her a tall rum collins and sat down beside her in a beach chair on the sand.
"Yes."
"How do you like it?" he asked pleasantly.
"It's beautiful!" she sighed. "I can see how some people never want to go home."
"I thought the same thing," Harold remarked. "It's funny, but when I talk to people who live here, they all seem to want to live on the mainland."
"The grass is always greener," Cynthia laughed.
"I suppose," Harold replied thoughtfully. "It seems to me that people today are generally discontent with their lot in life. They seem to be desperately searching for something, but they haven't the slightest idea what it is."
"How will they know what it is when they find it?" she asked.
"If this is 'the winter of our discontent,' Cynthia, they won't find it."
"You're becoming too philosophical for me," she laughed.
"Are you going to the meeting this afternoon?" he asked.
"What's the topic?"
"The new legislative act to increase the banking services of savings and loans. Pretty cut and dried, I'm afraid."
"And dull," she added with a smile.
"Right. Why don't we both play hooky and see some of the sights?" he suggested.
"Well," Cynthia replied hesitantly, "I do want to visit Pearl Harbor."
"Something personal, or just as a tourist?"
"Personal," she said with a distant smile. "My father died there in the attack."
"I'm sorry. Perhaps you would like to go alone."
"I was only two years old when it happened, Cynthia sighed. "I don't remember my father at all. If you'd like to go, Mr. Ackerman...."
"Harold," he said. "And I'd love to go with you. I'll arrange for a car...."
"Oh, it's so far downtown!" Cynthia said. "We can take the bus."
"Don't be silly. I'm on an expense account, remember? An hour to change?"
"Fine," Cynthia replied.
She showered and changed into a conservative skirt and blouse. Because of her sensitive genitals, she decided to forego panties and stockings and she settled on a pair of sandals. Harold Ackerman was waiting for her in the lobby and led her to the Mustang II he had rented.
They drove through the concrete jungle surrounding Waikiki Beach and headed for the monument at Pearl Harbor. The Waikiki area was so crowded it seemed like wall-to-wall humanity, and the downtown traffic was as congested as any major city in the U.S.
Harold parked in the public area and they walked down to the monument to the "day of infamy." They read the plaques and stood side by side staring out at the famous natural harbor.
"What ship was your father on?"
"The Arizona," she replied.
"Over there," Harold said, pointing to the marker.
Cynthia stared at the spot where her father had met his watery grave and felt nothing. It frightened her to be so devoid of feeling, so removed and objective.
"Mother wanted to bring me here after the war," Cynthia said softly. "We couldn't afford it. I guess I might never have seen where he died if the company hadn't sent me on this convention."
"I know how you feel, Cynthia," Harold said sympathetically.
"Do you, Harold? I feel nothing. I feel empty."
"That's understandable," he said quietly. "You never knew your father. I'll bet you can't even remember him."
"No, not really. Just the pictures my mother showed me of them on their honeymoon."
"That's sad."
"Is it? I wish I could feel sad. I wish I could feel something!" She wanted to add that she wished she understood herself, that she felt like she was only half a human being, but she hardly knew the man standing next to her.
"I'm famished," Harold said, changing the subject. "How about something to eat?"
"Sounds great!" Cynthia responded, anxious to leave this place that should mean something to her.
"I read about a Chinese restaurant near here," Harold remarked as they walked back to the car. "Do you like Chinese food?"
"Love it!"
They had a delicious seven-course meal topped off with almond duck, then toured downtown Honolulu. Cynthia laughed when Harold bought two wild Hawaiian print shirts and reluctantly allowed him to talk her into a gay sarong.
As they drove by some of the busy beaches on the way home, Harold made a mild verbal pass at Cynthia. She fielded it well, telling him politely yet firmly that she was not interested in an affair with a married man. Harold took it well and they agreed on a platonic relationship.
It was late when they arrived back at the hotel, and Cynthia begged off a nightcap saying she was exhausted. She took a warm shower, turned off the lights and climbed into bed. Sleep was elusive and teasing, something she sought but could not quite find.
Her mind kept returning to Pearl Harbor, the death of her father, and her life with her mother. Cynthia had led a troubled life. After her father died her mother began bringing men home. At first it was only once or twice a week. Then it was every night. As a child Cynthia knew that her mother was miserably unhappy. How often had she seen her mother cry the morning after?
Cynthia suspected, but never knew, that her mother was accepting money from the men she brought home. Gradually, the young girl began to resent her mother. In an effort to stay away from her mother as much as possible, Cynthia dedicated herself to her studies at school and excelled in her grades to the point where she entered college at the age of sixteen.
As she tossed and turned in the warm Hawaiian night, Cynthia remembered boarding at a university seventy-five miles from her home just so she would not have to continue living with her mother. When she graduated, she jumped at the offer in Wymore, California. It was eighty-two miles from her hometown and gave her the opportunity to continue living alone.
Unable to find sleep, Cynthia got out of bed, lit a cigarette and stood by the louvered doors looking out at the moonlight on the ocean.
She thought about Richard and her marriage, about how they fell in love the first night they met, about the frightening yet exciting night he first made love to her, about the tearful meeting seven weeks later when she announced that she was pregnant, about their quiet wedding, the birth of Marty, and about how Richard gradually lost interest in her physically until he could no longer achieve an erection with her. She thought about June, the seventeen-year-old girl who lived next door, and about the night she caught them in bed and discovered that Richard was having an affair with the girl.
Why am I rehashing all of this now? she asked herself as she ground her cigarette out in the ashtray on the bureau and poured herself a stiff, straight shot of rum. The amber liquor burned as it went down. Cynthia climbed into bed once again and in a few minutes the alcohol relaxed her enough to allow the sweet fingers of sleep to caress her body.
The next morning she joined a group from the convention on a tour of the other side of the island. They went by chartered bus and crossed the Pali, visited the sights and had a picnic lunch on the beach at Coconut Island just offshore from the island of Oahu.
By the afternoon of the following day, Cynthia found her body restored. The soreness was gone from her vagina and her rectum was now only tender. She attended all the meetings and made notes of some of the important points made by the various speakers.
Cynthia's anxiety began to grow as she noted the overriding concern among those attending the convention about the financial position of many savings and loan organizations. Inflation and the increased interest rates were the problems. Traditionally, savings and loan companies invested their deposits in real estate mortgages. And traditionally, when a savings and loan company needed cash, it sold some of its mortgages. With the over fifty percent increase in interest rates over the past year and a half, the older mortgages with low interest rates were difficult to sell without a substantial discount. In turn, this meant considerable loss, and even bankruptcy, to companies who had over extended themselves.
Cynthia could see a crisis developing, and it was obvious that many large companies were running scared. She made a note to analyze Wymore Savings and Loan's situation when she returned.
After the last meeting of the afternoon, Cynthia joined Harold and a group at a cocktail party around the swimming pool. The sight of couples dancing to the romantic Hawaiian music disquieted her. She tried to join in several conversations only to find that she felt like an outsider. To occupy herself, Cynthia drank a good deal and soon was basking in a warm euphoria of her own making.
It was after nine when she said good-bye to Harold and his group of friends and headed for her cottage. It was another of Hawaii's fantastic moonlight nights. Cynthia inhaled the lovely frangrance of the tropical flowers along the path and let the gentle ocean breeze caress her face.
She decided it was much too beautiful a night to go to bed, so she poured herself a generous portion of rum and water, kicked her shoes off, and sat on the lanai facing the moonlit ocean. The romantic Hawaiian music drifted over from the pool party. She felt her body relax and she drained her glass. Unwilling to give up this pleasant paradise, the thirty-five-year-old woman went back into the cottage to pour herself another drink.
As soon as she left the lanai, Robbie Marsten came out from behind the bush where he had concealed himself to watch the pretty woman sitting on her lanai. The twelve-year-old boy hadn't spoken to her since that night on the beach. He had secretly followed her around, but whenever he summoned up the courage to speak to her she was suddenly with another adult. The twelve-year-old was wondering if she was going to come back outside. When he saw her coming, he quickly stepped into the soft light on the lanai so that he wouldn't frighten her.
"Hi," he said quietly as Cynthia stepped out on the lanai.
"Well, hi!" Cynthia replied. "Robbie, isn't it?"
"Yes, Miss...."
"Just call me Cynthia," she smiled. "And what are you doing out so late?"
"Aw, it's not late, Cynthia," the boy protested, trying his best to sound grown up.
"Where do you live, Robbie?" she asked, sitting in the lounge chair.
"Over there," he replied, pointing vaguely toward the main hotel building.
"I'm sorry there isn't another chair, Robbie."
"I can sit on the floor."
"Don't be silly," she laughed. "You'll get your pants dirty and your mother will be furious. Here, we can share this lounge chair."
CHAPTER FOUR
Cynthia was becoming uncomfortably aware of the youth's body as he pressed against her in the lounge chair. He was stretched out beside her in such a manner that his arm constantly brushed against her breast. They exchanged small talk and she asked the twelve-year-old boy about his life at the hotel and his school. He lost his shyness and began talking to her as an equal as they stared out of the beautiful night scene on the ocean.
Cynthia could see the sparkling white ripples of the waves breaking in the midnight blue water and the pounding of the surf had a-musical sound to her ears. She drained her drink as they talked and she realized that she was getting very high.
Glancing down, she saw the straining bulge at the young boy's crotch. It stuck straight up like a tent pole and there could be no doubt that the child was aroused.
"That was fun, what we did the other night," she remarked casually.
"Really?" the boy replied excitedly. "I mean, did you like it?"
"Of course I did," Cynthia replied honestly. "Was it fun for you?"
"Gosh, yes!" the boy said.
"Well, I wasn't sure," Cynthia said with a bright, teasing smile. "You ran away so fast."
"Aw, I guess I was ashamed," he replied softly.
"What was there to be ashamed of?"
"Gee, you know. It was my ... my first time and all," he stammered. "I just didn't know what to do."
"You did fine," Cynthia said reassuringly. "And if you enjoyed it, there's no reason to be ashamed, Robbie. My, my! Look at that!" she added, placing her hand on top of the pointed protrusion at the boy's crotch. "It looks like you're excited again!"
"I'm always that way when I see you," he explained in a small, embarrassed voice. "I've been following you around for two days. Every time I got close to you, I got a hard-on."
"Isn't that sweet!" she exclaimed, rubbing her palm over the tip of his straining penis. "And what did you do when you got a hard-on?"
"I ... Well, I jacked off!" he blurted out, his cheeks blushing slightly.
"Did that make you feel good?"
"Yeah-kind of," the twelve-year-old boy responded. "But not as good as what you did to me!"
"And you want me to do it again. Is that it?" Cynthia laughed, loving the child's excited innocence.
"Would you?" he asked excitedly.
"Do you want me to?" she teased, rubbing his pulsing young prick firmly beneath her hand.
"Oh, yes!" he said with a soft, urgent moan.
"All right," she smiled. "Take your pants off, Robbie."
"Maybe ... well, maybe we'd better go inside," the boy suggested. "That way, we can't get caught."
"You're right, absolutely right," Cynthia agreed, surprised to hear her words blurring.
The full impact of all she had had to drink hit the thirty-five-year-old woman when she pulled herself to her feet. She felt dizzy and her body seemed to sway back and forth. She stood still for a moment, fighting for control of her body.
"What's the matter?" the twelve-year-old asked.
"Just a little too much to drink," Cynthia replied, giggling like a teenage girl.
She took his hand and allowed him to lead her into the cottage. Robbie carefully closed and latched both doors. Cynthia leaned against the wall for support while she drew the drapes. She couldn't seem to get rid of her giggles! Cynthia knew she hadn't been this drunk more than a couple of times in her life!
"Cynthia?" the twelve-year-old said when she turned toward him.
"What?"
"Will you do me a big favor?" the boy asked. '
"I said I'd give you a blow-job, Robbie," Cynthia laughed.
"Well, that ... and ... and could I see you naked?" he blurted out.
"You've seen me in a bathing suit, haven't you?" she asked as she swayed across the room toward the bed.
"Yes ... but I've never seen ... your tits and pussy!" he managed to squeeze out of his constricted throat.
"You certainly know the words!" Cynthia laughed, flopping down on the bed. "Where'd you learn all that?"
"From the guys on the beach," the boy replied, walking over to stand above her. "Do you mind those words?"
"No," she said with a smile. "I never realized it before, but I like to hear you say them."
"Can I?"
"What?" she asked.
"See you naked?" the boy said in a pleading voice.
"Okay," she laughed, "but you have to undress me. I'm too dizzy to do it myself."
She turned over and guided his hands to the long zipper down the center of the back of her cocktail dress. She thought it was going to take him forever to get the zipper down with his fumbling fingers.
"Now unsnap my bra," she said when the boy finally managed to get her zipper down. "It's hooked, Robbie. Pull it together and then out. A little more. That's it!"
The older woman turned over on her back and smiled up at the excited, eager boy. The lust and excitement in his eyes stimulated her. She slipped the top of her dress off of her shoulders and told him to pull it down. She raised her ass from the mattress and wiggled her firm hips as he worked the cocktail dress down.
Cynthia lifed her knees and watched the cute young boy pull her dress free of her feet. She smiled when she saw his young eyes bulging out of their sockets as he stared open-mouthed at her breasts.
"Gee!" he said excitedly.
"You like my tits?" Cynthia asked, feeling terribly naughty.
"Wow, yes!"
"Do you want to feel them?" she asked teasingly. "Can I?"
"If you want to," she laughed, reaching up and taking his wrists in her hands to guide his young fingers to her breasts. She placed his hands directly over her trembling nipples and felt a small but pleasant wave of pleasure creep through her body.
Robbie thought he was going to shoot off in his pants when he felt her big tits in his hands. The flesh was so warm and firm! How many nights had he dreamed about holding a girl's tits in his hands? He could feel her pointed nipples quiver as he began running his fingers all over the large mounds on her chest.
"Do you like my tits?" Cynthia taunted, seeing his little cock straining against his pants and a damp circle growing where the swollen head pressed against the fabric. He was such a darling little boy!
"You have the best tits I've ever seen!" the twelve-year-old moaned.
"What about my pussy?" she laughed, spreading her legs wide apart so that her nest was thrust naked at his straining eyes. "Don't you want to feel my pussy?"
"Gee ... can I?" he asked breathlessly.
"Sure," Cynthia replied, her head swimming in the alcoholic haze that engulfed her in its warm grasp.
She watched the inexperienced twelve-year-old boy reluctantly release her breasts from his fondling hands. His eyes seemed to bulge even farther out of their sockets as his gaze dropped to her golden tufts of pubic hair.
The woman felt delightfully wicked and naughty, but she couldn't for the life of her see how it would harm the child to learn about the female body from an older, experienced woman.
The boy's balls ached when he stared directly into the older woman's cunt! He could see the pink lips of her pussy nestled beneath the golden curls of her pubic hair. The lips were parted, revealing to his innocent eyes the damp meat of her sex. He could even see the dark hole toward the bottom of her slit.
"Just pet it like you would a kitten, Robbie," she laughed, pleased with her none-too-subtle symbolism. "UUUuuummmmm! That's it! Ooooh! That feels so good!"
"How does it feel?" he demanded in an excited voice as he ran his hand lovingly up and down the length of her hairy crotch.
"Good!" she sighed. "Just like you felt when I sucked your prick," she moaned, her hips beginning to writhe beneath his probing, massaging hand. He was so gentle! It was almost as if he was teasing her!
"Can I stick my finger in your hole?" the excited boy asked.
"Yes, darling!" she mewed. "But first take off your clothes. Your prick looks like it's going to rip your pants apart!"
Robbie had to tear his hand away from her soft, exciting cunt. He slipped out of his shirt, kicked his sandals off, and pulled his pants down with the speed and abandon only youth possesses.
Cynthia propped herself up on her elbows and watched the young boy's lightning quick strip. The natural lust that shone from his innocent face excited her! She dropped her eyes to his straining crotch and saw his hard little pecker spring free of its fabric prison. It was so cute, so tender and fresh! It reminded her of a thick stalk of asparagus or a short, slender, graceful candle! Cynthia reached out and took his throbbing young penis in her hand.
"Come down here on the bed," she said softly, pulling his hard prick toward her. "Do you like to have me play with your cock?"
"Yes!" he moaned, kneeling beside her shoulders and reaching out boldly to place his hot little hand on top of her pointed breast.
The contact of his fingers on her aroused nipple made the thirty-five-year-old woman mewl with pleasure. She stared at his darling prick, devouring it with her eyes while she stroked it gently with her hand. It was like a fine piece of ivory, smooth and sculptured and so pleasing to her touch! She loved the glowing pink color of his twelve-year-old penis, and the swollen head, like a delicious mushroom cap, glistening beckoningly to her with its light film of lubricating fluid.
Her nostrils flared wide as the fresh, sweet odor of his virginal sex waft to her nose. She inhaled the exciting aroma and felt her pulse quicken as her olfactory sense awakened to tickle the desire buds in her veins to life.
Cynthia saw a tear form in the small hole at the tip of the swollen bulb cresting his prick. She pulled him closer and brought the delicious meat of his organ to her pursed lips and drew the drop of his dew into her hungry mouth. Then she began licking his stalk slowly, lovingly, savoring each explosion of his flavor against her aroused taste buds.
"Uummmm!" she sighed. "I love the taste of your prick, Robbie! Do you like me to do this?"
"Yes!" he moaned. "It gets me so hot!"
"That's good," she sighed, capturing the head of his cock between her lips and slowly sucking it into her mouth.
Cynthia couldn't understand why the child's penis in her mouth excited her so! That night on the beach she had come very close to orgasm just sucking his cock! And now the warmth of his excited young body was beginning once again to flow through her system!
"Gee!" Robbie cried in a small voice. "Wow, that sure makes me hot!"
The youth's testicles began aching while he stared down at his prick disappearing into the pretty woman's mouth. He could see and feel her lips surround his throbbing rod and his heart seemed to be beating so fast it would surely burst from his chest! The young boy reached down and began petting Cynthia's pussy. He ran his hand gently up and down the length of her gash and saw the muscles in her smooth thighs spasm.
Her mouth was driving him crazy! Her tongue swirled all around his throbbing shaft and the warm suction of her cheeks seemed to be sucking the very blood out of his veins. He watched her take it out of her mouth and hold it in her hand while she flicked her warm pink tongue all over his prick and balls.
"Can a man ... can a man do that to a woman?" he asked, trying to force himself to make it last longer.
"What?" Cynthia asked breathlessly.
"Give her-aw, you know-give her a blow-job?" the boy stammered.
"Yes," Cynthia replied, licking his balls.
"How?" the twelve-year-old boy demanded.
"By licking and kissing her pussy," Cynthia replied, flicking her tongue back and forth across the throbbing head of his young penis.
"Can I?"
"Do you want to, Robbie?"
"Oh, yes! Do you like that, Cynthia?"
"Of course I like it, Robbie," she laughed, squeezing his cute cock in her hand. "All girls like to have their pussies licked."
"Can I?" he repeated.
"Sure," she replied, trying to quell her pounding heart.
She moaned when he pulled his penis out of her hand and knelt between her thighs.
"You tell me how," the twelve-year-old boy said, lowering his darling face to her crotch.
"Just kiss it," she said softly. "OH! Oooooohhhh! Yes, that's goooood! Lick right there, darling," she cried when his tongue slid over her sensitive clitoris.
"Here?"
"Yes! Oh yes! That's my little cock," she moaned. "Be gentle, Robbie darling. That's it!
Oh ... yes ... that's it!"
Cynthia placed her hands on top of the boy's tousled hair and gently pressed his face into her crotch. Richard had done this to her once when he was very drunk. It was after he had become impotent with her and he wanted to show her he could satisfy her without the use of his limp penis. Cynthia had enjoyed it, but the tension between them had grown so great that he never repeated the oral act.
Now this precious child's lips and tongue were sending sparks through her body to rekindle the fires she had so long repressed! The concrete shell she had built around herself was crumbling to expose the raw flesh of her animal nature.
"AAaaaaahhh!" she moaned, her hips arching to bring her entire crotch into contact with his darling young face. "That's so good, Robbie! Lick it right there. Yes, yes, yes! Right there!"
The thirty-five-year-old woman's reactions excited the young boy! This was the first time he had ever seen a woman's pussy and it was full of mystery to the youth's mind. There was something very exciting about the taste of her juices. Her pussy had a salty flavor with a touch of spice that reminded the twelve-year-old boy of a salad dressing his mother made.
Robbie's inexperience and lack of knowledge was painful to him, yet instinct helped guide him in his oral caresses of the pretty woman's sex. He had located the small bump of flesh near the top of her slit, the thing she called her "cock," and he found that every time he touched that bump with his tongue it made her moan and groan with excitement!
He loved the way she was pulling his face into her wet pussy! And he delighted in the feeling of her dampness covering his nose and cheeks! Whenever he probed her hot hole with his young tongue, her hips pound in fast circles that rubbed her pussy all over his face. He promised himself he would never wash his face again, that he'd keep the coating of her sex juices on his skin as a reminder of this great thing that was happening to him!
Cynthia was beside herself with passion! She was propped up on her elbows staring directly down at her crotch. She could see the boy's pink tongue flicking in and out of her vulva like a bee darting from one flower to the next. He reminded her of a thirsty cat lapping hungrily at a bowl of milk the way he licked her cunt.
Cynthia's skin seemed to be on fire! The tingling, burning sensation swept slowly over her flesh until her entire body was consumed in its flames. Her nipples seemed to glow like burning coals on top of her creamy breasts.
She remembered Buck going down on her just before he began torturing her with his cruel cock. Buck's oral attack on her cunt was good, but much more practiced and mechanical than what the delightful child was doing to her. Buck had excited her, but nothing like the way Robbie was arousing her.
"Can I ... can I stick my finger in your hole?" Robbie asked, lifting his dripping mouth from her steaming crotch to stare directly into her watching eyes.
"Robbie darling," she moaned, "you can do anything you want to me!"
Cynthia reached out and took his hand and guided it to her quaking groin. She brought his middle finger to the opening to her vagina and gently pressed it inside her.
The boy's testicles seemed to roar in his young ears when his finger was suddenly surrounded by the damp warmth of her vagina. The never ending thrill of discovery of the mysteries of her sex made his body ache with desires he had never known before in his young life.
"Does that feel good?" he asked, running his finger to the knuckle in her hot box.
"Yes!" she moaned, her vaginal muscles contracting to pull him deeper and deeper inside her. "Fuck me with your finger, darling."
"I ... I ... I don't know how!" he cried in desperation.
"Like this," she said softly, holding his wrist in her hand and moving his finger in and out of her hot sleeve. "Move it in and out like this. Press against the top of my cunt like this. Ooooh! That feels so good!"
Robbie's alert mind caught the motion quickly. He shoved his finger deep into her vagina, then withdrew it and lunged right back.
Cynthia's heart was pounding in her chest as she watched the young boy's cute little hand pumping away at her crotch. She could see his darling finger disappear into the depths of her body and feel it rub against the sensitive walls of her vagina at the same time. The sensation was like having a continuous series of tiny electric shocks race through her body!
The thirty-five-year-old woman reached out and took the young boy's other hand and guided it to her trembling pussy.
"Play with my little cock at the same time, Robbie," she said softly, bringing the tips of his young fingers to her quivering clitoris.
"Like this?" the boy asked, massaging the secret little bump he had discovered at the top of her slit.
"Oh God, yes!" she cried, her hips writhing beneath his two-handed caressing of her sex.
Cynthia's mind was still encased in an alcoholic haze and she regretted ever taking a drink this evening! The things that were happening to her body were so fantastic she wanted to be able to appreciate them fully. Never before in her life had she been able to dictate the things a man did to her sexually. Like so many of the women's liberation writers had phrases it, she had been little more than a receptacle for the male sex organ. Her desires and the things that pleased and excited her hadn't been important. Her pleasure, in fact, was more of an accidental byproduct than a goal.
But with this precious twelve-year-old boy it was different! He wanted to please her! He enjoyed making her hot. He wanted to learn how to do the things that gave her pleasure. And Cynthia knew that she had never experienced pleasure like this before! This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her body! Her passion was drawing from reserves she didn't know she possessed!
"Cynthia," the young boy said in a small voice.
"What, Robbie darling?" she replied breathlessly as her body luxuriated in the incredibly growing passion that engulfed it..
"Can I ... can I fuck you?"
"You are, darling! OOOooohh! You are fucking
"I mean ... I mean with my ... cock!" he blurted out, his cheeks flushing a bright pink.
"Oh!" she said in a startled tone.
"I'm so hot my prick hurts!" the boy pleaded.
Why had his desire to fuck her startled her, Cynthia wondered? Was it because he was just a child, a boy no older than her own son? Was it naughty and wicked? Why would it be any different than the two of them playing with each other sexually?
"Please!" the boy pleaded, shoving his finger deep into her hot cunt and rolling her trembling button between his thumb and forefinger.
The woman's heart reached out for the darling young boy. In her own intense passion and pleasure, she had forgotten all about the boy's needs. Of course he was hot!
The boy interpreted the older woman's silence for willingness and he removed his finger from her sopping wet hole and began crawling up between her firm, rounded thighs.
"Will you teach me how?" he pleaded.
Cynthia smiled when she saw the eager look on his innocent young face. He's such a precious little boy, she said to herself. She reached out and grasped his rigid, pulsing prick in her hand.
"It's the same as what you were doing to me," she said softly, guiding his hard cock to her slit.
"Instead of your finger, you shove your prick into my cunt."
Robbie watched as the passionate woman pulled his hard, aching penis to her pussy. He thought he was going to explode when he felt the dampness of her vulva touch his throbbing organ! He saw her run it up and down the length of her wet slit, rubbing the swollen head against her sensitive mound of flesh. Then she brought it slowly down to her hole and pressed the head inside her vaginal opening.
"God, that feels good!" the youth moaned when he felt the sensitive head of his prick suddenly surrounded and gripped by her steaming hot cunt!
"Oh yes!" Cynthia groaned, her entire body trembling with intense excitement. "Now fuck me!"
"How?" the frustrated boy cried.
"Shove your cock up me!" she cried, throwing her legs around the boy's slender waist and working her cunt slowly up his slender, throbbing, straining shaft.
She dug her heels into his tender young ass and locked her thighs against his waist, pulling, pressing, and bucking against his eager young body.
Robbie's heart seemed to stop beating when he felt her hot cunt begin screwing its way up his hard prick. He could feel the inside of her body surround and caress every inch of his swollen penis. Her cunt seemed to be holding it in a tight-fisted grip! He experimented with his hips, jerking them slowly to send nis prick in and out of her dark, hot tunnel. The friction of her wet skin on his rod made every muscle in his twelve-year-old body spring taut!
"I'm so hot I can't stand it!" the boy protested breathlessly.
"Slow down, Robbie darling," Cynthia moaned, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing him tightly against her. "Let's make it last as long as we can!" "I ... I can't!" he protested, his young hips jerking to send his throbbing shaft in and out of her body.
"Yes you can!" she insisted. "Just stop for a moment, darling."
Cynthia held his body tightly, stopping his screwing motion by digging her knees into his waist. She was as excited as he was, but she wanted to prolong it and make it last forever!
"Do you like this?" Robbie asked, trying to take his mind off the urgent demands swelling in his young balls.
"Oh yes, Robbie, I like this!" Cynthia replied, squeezing his prick with her vaginal muscles. "Is it fun for you?"
"Yes! I'm so hot it hurts, Cynthia!" he breathed.
"So am I," the older woman replied.
"I wish we'd done this the other night," the boy sighed as his heart at last returned to its normal beat.
"So do I!" Cynthia said, shuddering at the thought of what she had gone through with Buck after she left the precious boy on the beach.
"Cynthia, honest, I'm so hot it aches!" the boy cried when she once again squeezed his throbbing organ inside her.
"Then fuck me, Robbie! Fuck me!"
Cynthia relaxed her grip on the young boy's body and moaned when he sent his prick thrusting to the depths of her hot womb. She held his body pressed tightly against her chest and rubbed her nipples against his smooth skin. She pressed his face to hers and began licking his eyes, ears, cheeks and lips while he plunged his slender young shaft in and out of her boiling vagina.
Robbie's young hips jerked and pumped frantically. His rigid, pulsing organ seemed to fly in and out of her cunt. His young balls slapped against her ass. Instinct turned him into a rutting stud. Her hard nipples seemed to be boring holes into his chest as his hips flew up and down to pump his rod into her hot, willing body.
"OOOoooohh! Faster, Robbie! Fuck me faster!" Cynthia cried as her superheated body rumbled like a volcano threatening to erupt. There was no pain, no humiliation, no need to dominate, no need to prove anything! All she could feel was joy-the most incredibly intense joy she had ever experienced in her life!
Her hips began bouncing up and down to counter his plunging shaft. She ground her clitoris against his young pelvis every time he slapped against her with his lunging body. Her passion roared in her ears like a thundering surf and perspiration began flowing freely from her pores.
Robbie's twelve-year-old body could hold out no longer! His balls were so swollen they screamed at him for release! He pounded his surging cock to her with everything he had in his young system! The explosion that began in his young testicles ripped through him like the roar of a cannon!
"Uuuummpphh!" he grunted when he felt the searing hot river of juice rocket up the length of his penis.
"AAAAAAaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!" Cynthia screamed when his hot cream splashed into her steaming vagina to trigger a series of intense explosions that shot one after another through her quaking body.
The thirty-five-year-old woman's orgasm was so intense her entire body went through a series of involuntary spasms. Her arms and legs jerked and quaked with abandon. Her head flailed back and forth on the mattress. Her toes curled until they hurt. Her fingernails ripped part of the bedspread!
Their bodies continued bouncing up and down on the mattress long after their passions were spent. Then they stretched out side by side, breathing heavily to fill their straining lungs and quiet their pounding hearts.
Cynthia tried to fight against the deep sleep that flowed through her body, but she lost the battle and gave herself over to the firm embrace of Mropheus. She drifted into the deepest, most peaceful sleep she had known in years.
She was sound asleep when the boy finally summoned the strength to pull himself off the bed. He stood looking down at her lovely naked body for a long moment, his eyes full of love and affection. Then he pulled the spread from the top of the bed and gently wrapped her body in it.
The young boy's heart ached to spend the night with this wonderful woman, but he couldn't take the chance of being caught out of his room in the morning when his mother came to wake him. Reluctantly, he slipped into his clothes and left the cottage.
CHAPTER FIVE
During the next three days Cynthia and Robbie spent every .minute they could together. Cynthia knew that she was drinking more than was good for her, but the hours she spent exploring and caressing and loving Robbie's nubile young body placed her in an exciting world she had never known.
The horny, sexy older woman masturbated the boy with her hand and then swooped down with her tongue to lick up the cream that splashed on his twelve-year-old tummy. She taught him how to lick her pussy and let him take her to an incredibly intense orgasm with his cute tongue.
She had him fuck her in the bathtub, on the bamboo mats in the bedroom, on the bed, in a chair, and even daringly in the lounge chair on the lanai one night. They went for a midnight swim and made love in the wet sand with the gentle waves lapping at their naked bodies.
Hawaii turned into a sexual Disneyland for the thirty-five-year-old woman and she found the thrilling discoveries of her physical senses to be all-consuming. A strong bond grew between the older woman and young boy, and when the time for her to return to the mainland approached, they both became sad.
Cynthia had briefly considered seeking a job in Honolulu so she could be near the darling boy who gave her so much pleasure. She despaired at the thought of leaving him, but she realized that their love could never be. And while their activities might go undetected over a short span of time, they would surely be found out if their affair took on any signs of permanence.
They made love tenderly on the last night. In Cynthia's mind it was the most beautiful hour they had ever spent together. They made no effort to see each other the following morning. Cynthia took one last look at the island paradise as her baggage was loaded into the airport bus, then climbed aboard with a sigh and settled down for the return to her normal, dull life.
The flight to San Francisco was long and relatively smooth. Cynthia traded small talk with the woman sitting next to her, watched the in-flight movie, and grew more and more restless as they winged their way across the Pacific.
As usual, it was cold and foggy in San Francisco. Cynthia tipped the porter who helped her load her luggage into her aging Pinto in the parking lot, then headed for the freeway and the long two and a half hour drive home.
She crossed the Bay Bridge and took the freeway toward Sacramento. Cynthia thought about the scene waiting for her at her apartment. Her mother had come to stay with her a month before she left and her mother had taken care of Marty while she was in Hawaii. She was grateful to her mother for taking care of Marty. That had made Cynthia's trip possible. But Cynthia was worried that her mother would continue living with her and she didn't know how to handle the situation. Her mother drove Cynthia crazy! Part of it was her old resentment, Cynthia realized, but it was also the result of having lived alone for so long.
Just west of Davis, Cynthia turned off the freeway and took the farm-to-market road that led to the foothills and Wymore. It was almost ten o'clock when Cynthia pulled her Pinto into its stall in the garage of the apartment house.
After unloading her bags from the trunk, Cynthia stood silently staring at the elevator for several minutes. Finally she took a deep breath and pushed the elevator button that would plunge her back into her old life.
The greeting had all the ingredients of a happy family reunion. Marty, a handsome, enthusiastic if somewhat shy youth hugged his mother tightly. Georgia, Cynthia's mother, kissed her daughter on the cheek and demanded a full report on her trip at once.
Cynthia sat on the couch and gave them both the highlights of her trip. At eleven, she sent Marty to bed.
"I didn't want to say anything in front of Marty," Georgia commented after Marty had been tucked in, "but you'd better read this."
Cynthia took the telegram from her mother's hands and opened it. It was from her Aunt Martha notifying her that Uncle Bill had had a stroke.
"When did it happen?" she asked her mother.
"Last Friday," Georgia replied. "The telegram came yesterday, and I called Martha right away."
"How is he?"
"He was in intensive care until this morning. You know how difficult it is to make sense out of anything Martha says, but I gather he's paralyzed in some way."
"That's awful!" Cynthia replied.
"It will be tough on them," her mother agreed. "Since she fell and broke her hip, Martha has barely been able to get around herself. Now she has Bill to look after."
"Can she do it?" Cynthia asked.
"I don't think so," Georgia sighed. "Martha asked me to come live with them."
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her I would as soon as you got back," her mother said. "Bill's my only brother, Cynthia. He's all the family I have left."
"Have they got the money to pay all the expenses?"
"Sure! Bill was never anybody's fool, I can tell you. He saved his money over the years. Had him a good job, never tried to live high and mighty, and kept his prick in his pants. Lord knows how he managed that with that old dried-up twat Martha he married."
"Mother!"
"My God, Cynthia, don't you ever call a spade a spade? There are times when you act like a blushing virgin, I swear! Anyway, it's all true. Bill's not wealthy, but he's plenty comfortable!"
"When are you leaving?" Cynthia asked, hoping the relief did not show in her voice.
"If it's all right with you, I expect I'd better take the bus out in the morning. Bill comes home from the hospital Thursday and Martha will be needing help."
"Certainly it's all right with me, Mother," Cynthia said. "I'd drive you down, but I have to go to work tomorrow."
"I understand. I don't mind the bus. Gives me a chance to meet interesting people. Oh, by the way, we ought to have a word about Marty."
"What's the matter? Did he get into trouble while I was gone?" Cynthia asked anxiously.
"Nothing like that, Cynthia. He's a well-behaved boy, I'll give him credit for that."
"What is it?"
"Well, he's beating his meat, Cynthia."
"What?"
"The boy's jacking off-masturbating.. I heard his bed squeaking nearly every night. And a couple of times he locked himself in the bathroom in the afternoon. I recognize the signs, Cynthia. You'd better have a talk with him."
"What am I supposed to tell him?" Cynthia demanded. "Am I supposed to hire a prostitute to initiate him to sex?"
"It's not a bad idea," Georgia replied with a smile. "That way he wouldn't develop all of those ugly sex hang-ups. But give a boy like that a taste of a good lay, and he could break you just paying the hookers! I'd just tell him that it's the natural thing to do and that he shouldn't feel like he has to sneak all the time. Anyway, I didn't raise any boys.
I don't know what you tell them. All I had was one little girl."
"And you didn't tell me a damned thing!" Cynthia replied a little sarcastically.
"And the first time you spread your legs you got yourself knocked up," Georgia responded with a deep sigh. "I guess I wasn't any great shakes as a mother, Cynthia."
Cynthia agreed with that statement, but she didn't want to get into a bout of self-pity with her mother. So she assured her that she had been a good, understanding mother and let the matter drop there. They talked a while longer and then both retired.
Cynthia was busy the following morning getting Marty breakfast and off to school and helping her mother pack. She drove her mother to the local drug store that doubled as a bus depot, saw her off with a sigh of relief, then drove to the Wymore Savings and Loan.
While a small town, Wymore served as the banking and market center for a number of rural communities. Wymore Savings and Loan employed . a staff of nine. Many of the farmers and ranchers used savings accounts exclusively. Once a week they came in and made deposits and withdrawls to cover their expenses. Business was already moving at a brisk pace when Cynthia walked in at shortly after ten.
Each member of the staff greeted her with a warm smile, and Cynthia had to repeat her story about her trip four times before she ever got to her desk. The familiar sights and sounds of the building were reassuring, and Cynthia wondered where she should pick up on her work after being away for almost two weeks. The buzzer on her desk startled her for a moment. She pushed the button and heard James Madison's voice on the intercom.
"Right away," Cynthia replied.
James Madison was a small man with a build like a fireplug. If he had been taller, people might have referred to him as portly. Cynthia had always thought of him as a fireplug because he was so squat and round. He stood when she entered his walnut-paneled office and a warm smile radiated from his cherubic face.
"Let's have some coffee while you tell me about your trip," he said, reaching for the coffee pot that wheezed all day long on the corner of his desk.
Cynthia described her trip in glowing detail, thanking him several times for giving her the opportunity to go, and then gave him a brief summary of the topics discussed in the convention meetings.
"That liquidity problem has been bothering me lately," he said when she told him about the anxiety expressed in several of the meetings. "Not that we're overextended like some of those hot-shot circus operations down in the city. We've always toed a conservative line here, and we can be damned glad we did. Just the same, I'm glad we're not pressed for any immediate need for cash. I imagine we'd play hell selling the low interest mortgages we hold."
"I got the impression at the meetings that a number of companies were in serious trouble," Cynthia remarked.
"I can imagine! They've been running footloose with their depositors' money. I'm glad you came in today, Cynthia. I have to leave town for a couple of weeks and I'll feel much better knowing you're at the helm while I'm away."
"Where are you going, Mr. Madison?" she asked.
"New York. A company back there is putting together a giant shopping center and they want to split the financing among a number of companies. It's a solid, high-yield deal, so I think we just might be interested. They're working it out with a series of complicated trust deeds and I want to look the whole thing over myself before I commit us."
"It sounds very good," Cynthia commented.
"Maybe too good. You know how I feel about those easterners. I'd like you to prepare an analysis of our situation while I'm gone. See how much we're into low mortgages and find out where we can come up with a million in cash if we need it for this deal."
"Are you thinking of selling some of our trust deeds?"
"I'd rather not, particularly if we would take a bath doing it. Take a look at that mutual fund of ours. It's just possible we could liquidate that in favor of this shopping center."
"Certainly. When will you be leaving?"
"I'm driving down to San Francisco this evening and taking the early flight to New York in the morning. I'll be in contact with you every other day or so while I'm away, so make a list of any questions you need answered."
Cynthia was frightened as she walked back to her desk. In the several years she had been vice-president, she had never had to accept the responsibility of management of the savings and loan. Mr. Madison had never missed a day of work, and he alone always made the major decisions. The responsibility worried Cynthia. And she had so little time to prepare for it!
The morning went by quickly as she began going through the papers and correspondence on her desk. At noon, she went to lunch with Mr. Madison and the two department heads. They discussed the study she was to make and both department heads agreed to loan her people when she needed them.
"So you two fellows will have to toe the mark for a female boss," James Madison remarked congenially. "As pretty as Cynthia is, that shouldn't be too difficult."
"A pleasure," commented Henry Mullen, chief loan officer at Wymore Savings and Loan.
Cynthia smiled sweetly, but she had never liked Henry Mullen. He had always been nice to her and had never given her any real reason to dislike him, but she simply couldn't trust the man.
"We may get along so well we won't want you back, old war horse!" Carl Weisner remarked with a hearty chuckle.
Cynthia liked Carl. He was in his late fifties and had an easygoing personality that won friends readily. He was also a competent banker. Carl had left a large bank in San Francisco to come to Wymore as head of the savings department, and in five short years had tripled the number of accounts at the company.
"If you have anything you need my advice on," James Madison said to the two executives, "just relay it through Cynthia. I'll be in touch with her regularly."
CHAPTER SIX
The troubles began the first day Mr. Madison was gone. They were a series of minor irritations rather than anything serious. Personality conflicts, a computer error on a client's account, a bank draft that had evidently been lost in the mail, all small problems that combined to give Cynthia a sharp headache by lunch time.
She sent out for a sandwich and began making notes on how to prepare the study Mr. Madison wanted. Carl offered to take care of the mutual fund and Cynthia was grateful for that because she really knew very little about it.
She had trouble with Henry Mullen from the first thing in the morning. He had been anxious to analyze the cash flow and position, but Cynthia wanted to do that herself. And when she asked him to help her with the mortgage situation he promptly replied that he was much too busy!
To top it off, it was a heavy withdrawal day and Cynthia had to send over to the First National Bank for cash twice to meet the demands of their clients. What bothered her was that it was her own fault. She had simply miscalculated the amount of cash they would need for the day's business!
The irate customer whose account had been screwed up by the computer occupied a good part of Cynthia's morning. When she at last got it straightened out for the client, Cynthia realized that only half the problem was solved. Some other account had to be over-deposited to the tune of one hundred and six thousand dollars!
She was just finishing her coffee when Carl walked up to her desk.
"I compared the last three monthly print-outs," he said, "and I'm damned if I can find that hundred and six grand!"
"It has to be on someone's else's account," Cynthia sighed, "if the totals balance."
"You'd think so," Carl agreed, "but if it's there I can't find it. I can have one of my girls run a hand total to see if the computer is printing out the correct totals."
"I'd appreciate it, Carl," she sighed.
"At least we know the money's here."
"I'm certain of that," she replied with a smile. "It's just in the wrong account."
"I've got another one," he said, handing her an envelope. "I hate to drop it in your lap today."
"What is it?"
"We've had this draft on Hampton Savings for a month. They've been unable to honor it twice. Mr. Madison said to turn it over to our attorneys if it came back again and here it is."
"And?" Cynthia sighed.
"I talked to Murdock at Murdock and Johnson this morning. They told me confidentially to expect the worse. The First National has a draft on Hampton for three times this amount."
"Carl, you're working up to something," Cynthia said with a smile.
"Well, a thought did make its way into my mushy brain," he admitted with a chuckle. "Hampton may be short of funds, but they have plenty of mortgages. I might talk them into trading us a mortgage for the draft."
"A five percent mortgage, Carl, is more of a liability than an asset today."
"Sure, but a five percent mortgage is better than having to settle for perhaps ten cents on the dollar if Hampton goes under.
"Call them, Carl," Cynthia sighed.
It was later that afternoon when Cynthia got her first inkling of a real problem in the books. It began with a series of small inconsistencies, but when added together could distort the company's financial position. Cynthia's first attention was drawn to a number of small loans, ranging between five hundred and two thousand dollars. These were unsecured loans, the type all savings and loan companies tried to avoid but were forced to make on occasion as a public relations gesture in the community or to satisfy an old client.
Cynthia noted that each of these loans was made at the lowest possible interest rate at the time of the loan. Some dated back eighteen months, but the activity in this type of loan seemed to have doubled in the past few months. There was now an outstanding total of close to thirty thousand dollars, and Cynthia noted that a number of the loans were not meeting scheduled payments. She would have to talk to Henry Mullen about this.
The next item that caught her attention was a series of four savings accounts in the same name-Catherine Larson. The address on all four accounts was the same, a post office box in Matlow, California, a small rural community some forty miles from Wymore. While the savings and loan often carried a client's account with a post office box address, company policy required that the client's real address be listed on the account card. This had not been done in Catherine Larson's case.
Cynthia knew that a number of customers opened several accounts in order to keep the total deposited in any one account below the federally insured level of twenty thousand dollars, but the total of Catherine Larson's four accounts amounted to a little less than fifteen thousand dollars.
There was nothing illegal about this, but it didn't make sense to Cynthia. Filled with a sense of foreboding, she made a note to talk to Carl about it in the morning.
Just as Cynthia was preparing to go home for the day, Carl's secretary handed her an accounting sheet with a tabulation tape attached and said that her check showed the computer balances to be correct. The hundred and six thousand dollars was still unaccounted for. Cynthia decided to take the report home and go over it that night.
Cynthia had a splitting headache when she let herself into the apartment. She started for the medicine chest for some aspirin, then decided a drink would be be better. Before she left Honolulu, Cynthia had promised herself that she would curb this drinking habit she had acquired. Tonight, however, her headache justified a good stiff shot of bourbon.
She took her drink into the bedroom and changed into her house robe. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was just five. Marty had tennis practice this afternoon and wouldn't be home until six, so Cynthia curled up on the couch and began studying the account figures Carl's secretary had given her. The first drink didn't seem to dent her splitting headache, so she mixed herself another, stronger bourbon and water.
The usual computer error, Cynthia knew, involved crediting one account and debiting another for the same amount. The report she had in her hands proved that this had not taken place. Yet the totals balanced! The only possible solution was that an undetermined number of accounts had been debited for amounts that would add up to the hundred and six thousand dollars. Cynthia was almost certain the computer could not have done this without human design and direction, which meant that the whole thing was a deliberate act on somebody's part! Cynthia Freeman knew what that meant, and the knowledge made her heart sink to the pit of her stomach.
She was well into her third drink when Marty arrived home. The handsome twelve-year-old boy had a sullen look on his usually bright face and entered the apartment dragging his feet. "Hi!" Cynthia greeted.
"Hi," the boy responded with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
"Why the gloomy face, darling?" Cynthia asked.
"Aw, I got dropped from the tennis team," Marty muttered. "What's for dinner?"
"Are you hungry?" Cynthia asked, draining her drink and walking into the kitchen to pour another.
"Not really," the boy admitted. "What I need is a drink like you're having."
This surprised Cynthia. She had never denied the boy liquor, but she had never seen him evidence any interest in alcohol.
"Have you ever had a drink, Marty?" she asked with a smile.
"No."
"Then how do you know you'd like it?"
"The guys all brag about how much they drink," he replied.
"Well, if you want to try it, go ahead."
"You mean it?" he asked, doubting his ears.
"SUre. Want me to pour you one?"
"Yes," he said. "Just a taste to see if I like it."
Cynthia smiled and took another glass from the cabinet and poured her son a small shot of bourbon. She put ice in the glass and then asked if he wanted it straight or with water. Marty said he'd try it straight.
They walked back into the living room and Cynthia sat on the couch while Marty sprawled on the floor.
"Cheers," she offered, lifting her glass to her lips.
Marty placed his glass to his mouth and drained the ounce of bourbon in one swallow. He immediately began choking and coughing. It felt like he'd poured lighted gasoline down his throat! The twelve-year-old boy jumped up and ran into the kitchen to drown the fire in water. Cynthia smile to herself.
"Didn't you like it?" she asked innocently when he walked back into the living room.
"No! That stuff is awful! I don't see how you drink it."
"It takes time to acquire the taste," she admitted. "And, to be perfectly honest, I'm still not crazy about it."
"Then why do you drink it?" the boy demanded, sitting on the end of the couch.
"Oh, it helps relax me and soothes my nerves, I suppose," Cynthia replied honestly. "Why were you dropped from the tennis team, darling?
"Aw, old coach Hopkins doesn't like me," the boy responded evasively.
"It must be more than that, Marty," Cynthia said softly. "Did you lose a match or something?"
"No. I'm number two on the tennis ladder for my class," he replied defensively.
"Then why were you dropped? Look, I'm not going to scold you. You know that. You can tell me. You're supposed to bring your problems to me, darling."
"It was a girl," Marty said slowly.
"A girl?"
"Yeah. She's new in our class."
"And?" Cynthia prompted, relaxing for the first time as her headache finally began to fade.
"Coach Hopkins said I was paying more attention to her than to tennis."
"I see," Cynthia sighed with a tiny smile forming at the corners of her mouth. "And were you?"
"What?"
"Paying more attention to this girl than to tennis?" . .
"Gee, I guess so," Marty admitted. "She's real pretty and built like hell. All the guys have been after her, even the older kids."
"That doesn't sound so bad to me," Cynthia chuckled. "It's only natural. I can't see why your coach would get so angry about that."
"I guess I'd better explain," the twelve-year-old boy said, hanging his head and staring at his feet. "Somebody from school may call you."
"For heaven's sake tell me before I have to talk to them!" Cynthia said. "What happened, darling?"
"Well, it's like this. Penny-that's-the girl-came to Wymore and lives with her cousin, Alice Woodrow."
"Alice is in your class, isn't she?" Cynthia asked, trying to make the task easier for the boy.
"Yeah, and Alice sort of spread the word around that Penny had been sent to live here because she was putting out for just about every guy where she'd lived. Anyway, Penny and me, we sort of got to messing around out behind the gym today, you know?"
"Messing around?"
"Well, we were necking and things like that."
"Things like what?" Cynthia asked softly.
"Well, I put my hand on her tit-I mean her breast," the boy stammered.
"I know words like 'tit,' darling, and I don't mind them. Just explain what happened," Cynthia said quietly.
"I was supposed to be practicing," the boy began haltingly, "but the practice courts were all taken. I ran into Penny and we sort of kidded around. Then we went out behind the gym and started necking. I felt her up a little...."
"Did you undress her?" Cynthia asked.
"Naw, it wasn't like that. We didn't have that much time. I kissed her and played with her tits, that's all."
"And you didn't put your hand on her cunt?"
"She wouldn't let me," Marty replied, blushing. "And what happened?"
"The coach caught us. He'd heard the stories about Penny, and he warned us all. It was just my luck he had to catch me."
"And that's all there was to it?"
"Well...."
"Come on, darling, get it all out in the open," Cynthia urged, walking to the kitchen to pour herself another drink.
"Penny told the coach I was trying to rape her," Marty called after his mother.
Oh, Christ! .Cynthia thought to herself as she poured a generous portion of bourbon into her glass. This is when a boy needs a father to talk to him! Cynthia could just imagine Richard telling Marty about sex! Cynthia knew she would have to handle it alone, and that it would have to be handled soon. She remembered what her mother said about talking to Marty about masturbating. Christ!
"Now let me see if I understand the whole situation," she said a little thickly as she returned to the couch. Cynthia knew she was high, and she promised herself this would be her last drink tonight; "You played with Penny's tits, but you didn't touch her pussy. Is that right?"
"Yeah," the boy said dejectedly.
"And were your pants open, darling?"
"No."
"So you couldn't very well have been trying to rape Penny at that point, could you?"
"Of course not! Look, she said that so it wouldn't make her look bad, you know?"
"You're sure you've told me the whole story, darling?" Cynthia insisted.
"Honest! That's exactly the way it happened, I swear!"
"Okay," Cynthia smiled. "I think I can handle it now if anybody from the school calls me. Marty darling, do you understand what you did wrong?"
"Sure. I shouldn't have been playing around with her," the boy said impatiently, praying he wasn't going to get a lecture.
"No Marty, that wasn't it at all."
"Huh?"
"Look, darling, this is something a father should talk to his son about, but your father is in Chicago...."
"And doesn't give a damn about me, anyway," Marty interjected.
"So it's my task to explain sex to you," she continued, ignoring his interruption. "I don't know how good I'll be at this," she laughed, "but we'll give it a try."
"Aw, mom, you don't have to...."
"Yes I do. And you're going to listen! I'm not going to make with the birds and bees scene, and I'm not going to use medical language. I know you've been jacking off lately...."
"What?"
"You heard me, Marty. I said you've been masturbating lately. When did you start jacking off?"
"A couple of months ago," the twelve-year-old replied in a low voice.
"Stop feeling ashamed of yourself!" Cynthia snapped. "What's wrong with jacking off, Marty?"
"I don't know...." the boy began.
"Neither do I! It's a natural, normal human function. I do it myself occasionally, and so does every other human being."
"You do?"
"Of course, darling. I can't explain the sex drive inside us, but every one of us has it. It's a powerful drive and we have to satisfy it."
"I didn't know adults did it."
"Well, they do. The important thing for you to remember is that it's not bad. You don't have to hide behind locked doors to do it. It's perfectly normal and natural, particularly at your age. Why, in Hawaii I saw a boy your age doing it on the beach. I even helped him. So don't be ashamed of playing with yourself."
"Gee!"
"The reason you're masturbating now is because you're entering your growing years as a man. You're thinking about sex more and wanting it more. Isn't that right?"
"I guess so."
"That's why you messed around with Penny this afternoon. She's a pretty girl with a good figure and you wanted to lay her, right?"
"I ... I guess so."
"Well, there was nothing abnormal about that. That's why God created two sexes, so they could mate. What you did wrong was get caught, Marty."
"I couldn't help that!"
"Oh, yes, darling, you could," Cynthia laughed, taking a long swallow of her drink. "Doing it right there on the school grounds where anyone of hundreds of people could have seen you was stupid. You let your prick rule your body, instead of your brain, darling!"
"Where was I supposed to take her?" the boy demanded defensively. , "I can't answer that," Cynthia said seriously. "But if you both wanted the same thing, I'm sure you could have found a better place for it than behind the gym in the open. There's more to it than that, Marty. Let me see the rubber you were going to use."
"I ... I don't have any," he admitted, blushing. . "Is Penny on birth control pills?"
"I don't know." .
"But, if she'd have let you, you'd have fucked her?"
"Gee, mom, I don't know!"
"This is important, Marty darling," Cynthia said slowly, wishing her words weren't so thick and garbled. "You understand that when you fuck a girl without any precautions, the girl has an excellent chance of becoming pregnant?"
"Well, sure."
"And do you have any idea what happens when a girl becomes pregnant?"
"She has a baby," the boy responded.
"That's right. She has a baby and ruins her life, unless the boy marries her. Marty, twelve-year-old boys can't get married."
"Okay, okay, Mom!" Marty protested, wondering why he seemed both dizzy and nauseated at the same time. He was also suffering from a throbbing hard-on from talking about sex, and he squirmed uncomfortably on the couch trying to disguise the protrusion at his crotch.
"I'm not lecturing you, Marty dear," Cynthia said. "I'm simply trying to explain the practical aspects of sex. Listen, darling, some people try to ignore sex, sweep it under the rug and forget about it in the hope that it will go away. I've done that myself. But it won't go away. It's a fact of life and it's here to stay. So as human beings we have to learn how to cope with it. And the first step is to recognize that sex is normal and natural. There's nothing wrong or bad in our natural desires."
"They can get us in a lot of trouble though!"
"No, darling, not our desires. How we handle them can get us in a lot of trouble."
"It's the same thing," he argued.
"No it isn't! Let's take your masturbation as an example. Let's say you felt a real need to jack off. Now if you were riding a city bus and pulled your prick out of your pants and started jacking off, you might get into trouble, right?"
"You better believe!" the boy said, laughing for the first time.
"But if you waited until you were home here in the apartment, you wouldn't get in trouble, right?"
"I guess not."
"So it's a matter of judgment and timing, isn't it? It isn't your sex drive, but how you handle it, darling."
"You mean if I yanked my cock out right now and started jacking off you wouldn't get mad?"
"Of course not!"
"What would you do?" he demanded.
"Watch you, darling, unless you wouldn't let me," Cynthia replied, quickly draining the remainder of her drink.
"Like you watched the boy on the beach?"
"Yes."
"Would you help me like you helped him?" Marty asked in a low voice.
"Yes," Cynthia replied softly.
"Would you let me watch you masturbate the next time you do it?" he continued.
"Would you want to see me do it?"
"Yes!"
"I suppose so," she said quietly.
"I don't understand what's happening to me, Mom," the boy said in a troubled tone. "Just talking about sex like this makes me horny as hell! And sometimes I just look at a girl, and my cock begins aching like crazy!"
"There's nothing wrong with you, Marty darling," Cynthia said soothingly. She remembered from her own youth that the discovery and awakening of sex was a painful, frustrating experience. She had some idea what the poor boy was going through!
"Does just talking about sex make you horny?" he asked.
"Sometimes," Cynthia replied honestly.
"I'm so hot, Mom, it hurt! I've gotta jack off!"
"Well, do it!"
"Here?"
"Wherever you want, darling," she said, her cheeks coloring as she felt a stirring in her thighs. "You wouldn't get mad?"
"Of course not!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cynthia fought her automatic reaction to turn her head when her twelve-year-old son began pulling his pants down. She held her eyes steady on his lean young body. She smiled when he had to struggled to free his rigid cock from his undershorts.
The stirring in the woman's loins became a slow burning itch when she saw her young son's erect penis spring free of his shorts. It was long and slender, almost the exact size and shape of young Robbie's prick. The swollen tip was a bright pink and glowed like an angry light. Marty's shaft was as hard as a bar of steel and had a graceful upward curve toward its pulsing head. His balls were small and hung in a tight sac beneath his blood-engorged rod. He watched him take his organ in his hand to stroke it as he moved closer to her on the couch.
"You have a lovely prick, Marty darling," she said with open admiration.
"Is it as big as a man's?" he asked anxiously.
"Well, almost," she smiled, "It's certainly nothing to be ashamed of, darling. I'm sure that there are lots of grown men in the world with smaller cocks than yours."
"You really think so?" the boy asked excitedly.
"I'm sure of it," she replied. "Does that feel good?" she asked, watching him stroke his hard organ slowly with his hand.
"Yes! It's been aching ever since I started necking with Penny. Aren't you hot?"
"A little," Cynthia admitted.
"Don't you want to masturbate? Remember, you said I could watch you!"
"You think we should do it together?" she laughed.
"Gee, yeah!"
Cynthia's mind was reeling with alcohol! Deep inside her she was proud of the way she had handled all of this with Marty. She really didn't want to play with herself at the moment, even though she felt a familiar sensation sweeping through her body, but the boy was so anxious to watch her do it! Cynthia reasoned that if she could help him satisfy and cope with his sex drive she wouldn't be faced with a rape situation in the future. And what harm would it do to let him watch?
"Okay," she said with a bright smile. She stood up and almost fell over she was so dizzy! Cynthia had to balance herself carefully as she unbuttoned her houserobe and let it drop from her shoulders. Just being nude with the sweet young boy sent a tingling sensation across her flesh. The thirty-five-year-old woman watched her twelve-year-old son's eyes protrude as he stared at her naked body standing before him. His lust-filled gaze alternated back and forth between her breasts and pubic mound. She noticed that his mouth dropped open and his hand began stroking his cute, rigid young cock faster as he studied her nude figure.
Marty's body felt as if it was burning up! His system was reacting to its first ounce of alcohol and his flesh was flushed. His brain was foggy and fevered, and it whirled with the dizzying speed of a merry-go-round.
On top of all that, the horny boy's groin ached and strained like never before when he stared at his mother's sensual naked body. Her tits were the most beautiful he had ever seen, much bigger and firmer than the naked girls he had seen in the magazines some of the boys at school treasured. Her nipples were like huge strawberries pointing straight out from her proud chest!
And her pussy! Marty thought he had never seen anything as exciting as his mother's pussy! The point where her creamy white thighs met was covered with a beautiful golden fur, a fluffy triangle that radiated excitement to his eager eyes. He could see the vague pink outline of her slit beneath her pale pubic hair. How the young boy wanted to explore that mysterious region!
"Gosh, you're so pretty!" the boy said breathlessly.
"Is this the first time you've seen a naked girl?" Cynthia asked a little devilishly.
"For real," the boy replied. "I've seen pictures in magazines, but they weren't as pretty as you, Mom. You should be in Playboy."
"Oh, Marty!"
"Honestly," he protested. "Your tits are better than any of them!"
"You're so sweet," she said affectionately, sawying on her unsteady legs. She plopped down on the couch and giggled like a young girl. Cynthia knew she had a good body, and she prided herself on her figure, but it was music to her ears to hear Marty say these things!
"Why don't you take your shirt off, Marty?" she laughed. "You're beginning to perspire."
"It's so hot in here," the boy exclaimed, reluctantly taking his hand away from his throbbing penis to pull his shirt off and toss it on the floor.
"I love being naked, don't you?" Cynthia remarked, stretching lazily like a contented cat.
"Yeah," Marty murmured, staring at her gorgeous body stretched out on the couch. When she stretched, her tits jutted out to appear even larger and more appealing.
"Gee, what a set of tits!" he moaned, his young eyes beading in directly on her proud nipples.
"Better than little Penny's?" she asked cattily.
"Wow, yes! Penny's are small and soft. Yours look so firm," the boy replied.
"Do you want to feel them, darling?" she said in a low, sexy voice.
"Can I?" the twelve-year-old asked excitedly.
"If you want to," the deliciously hot woman replied almost coyly.
Marty scooted over on the couch until his thigh was pressed against his mother's naked flesh. Hesitantly, the young boy reached out to bring his hot little hands to his attractive mother's chest. He placed trembling fingers on each of her breasts. The contact with her lovely flesh seemed to burn the tips of his excited fingers! Marty felt her nipples quiver beneath his touch and then pop out hard as marbles.
He kneaded her firm flesh and brushed his young fingers back and forth over her hard nipples until his young testicles felt like they were going to swell up to the size of balloons and explode!
Cynthia allowed herself to drift on a lovely, warm, sensuous cloud as she felt the darling boy's hands exploring her breasts. Every time his fingers brushed against her sensitive buds tiny electric shocks swept through her body. The stirring in her loins was now an itch and he heart began beating faster and faster.
This was even more exciting than her experiences with Robbie in Honolulu! This was her own flesh and blood, something more precious than any stranger could ever be!
Almost automatically, the woman reached down in her young son's lap and wrapped her fingers around his blood-filled, straining organ. She held it affectionately in her hand and felt his body heat transferred to her veins. His slender young prick began straining in her firm grasp and she started stroking it gently.
"Is this ... is this what you did to the boy on the beach?" Marty stammered as she played with his prick.
"No, not exactly," Cynthia replied in a dreamy voice. "Do you like it, dear?"
"Yes!" Marty responded enthusiastically. "What did you do to the boy on the beach? You said you helped him jack off."
"I did something else, darling," she said in a faraway tone, stroking his prick a little faster as he kneaded and played with her tits with his eager hands.
"What?" the courious, excited boy demanded. "Please, Mom, tell me what you did to the boy on the beach!"
"I sucked his cock, sweetheart," the thirty-five-year-old woman replied in a soft, throaty voice. "I gave him a blow job," she added with a girlish giggle.
"Gee!" the twelve-year-old gasped, his balls now beginning to pleasurably spasm as the manipulations of her educated hand on his crotch worked his body to a fever pitch. "Did he like it?"
"Of course he did! So did I."
"Would you do it to me?" Marty asked in a pleading tone.
His suggestion brought Cynthia off the comfortable cloud she had been riding. In a flash Cynthia knew she wanted to suck his cock! She wanted to drain his darling little balls in her mouth! She even felt the excitement sweep through her veins when she thought about having his cute penis in her mouth.
But he was her son! What they would be doing would be incest! She knew they were already guilty of incest simply fondling and playing with each other sexually. And how was this really different than the wonderful things she and young Robbie had done together? Wouldn't she be teaching him all about the mysteries of sex, preparing him for a life of sexual happiness with the girl he finally chose for his wife?
Even more important, Cynthia thought to herself, I'll be keeping him out of trouble. If he learned about sex with her at home and she satisfied his growing urges, Marty wouldn't be likely to get a girl pregnant.
That was important to Cynthia. She was herself the victim of a lack of knowledge-and Marty was the product of what can happen when young people are driven to satisfy their lust recklessly. Cynthia would never have married Richard if she had not been carrying his child-this adorable boy! Cynthia often wondered how different her life might have been. One half-hour of urgent lust had brought two people together who were in no way suited to each other. She didn't want her son to go through that!
"Please, Mom," Marty pleaded, his little hips jerking as she stroked his cock hotly.
"I'd love to, darling," she said slowly, pushing his lovely shoulders back so he fell on his back on the couch.
Doubling at her waist and brushing her tits against the youth's leg, she lowered her face to the boy's pulsing crotch. The sight of his erect prick filled her eyes. It was covered with a glistening coat of his excited lubricating fluids and gleamed like a precious jewel. The shaft was perfectly smooth like a piece of highly polished rosewood. The swollen head was like the tip of a stone arrow and popped proudly out when she wrapped her fingers around the shaft and pulled the foreskin down.
The horny woman inhaled the intoxicating aroma of her son's surging penis. Marty had a stronger odor than Robbie. It was a combination of sweat and prolonged sexual excitement which had begun with his necking session with Penny at school that afternoon and while the smell was not as sweet as Robbie's had been, it was far more sensual and stimulating.
Cynthia brought her full lips to the swollen tip of his prick and planted a loving kiss on his hot little cockhead. She darted her tongue out and flicked the tip against his blood-engorged shaft, then began licking him with long, firm swipes that coursed from the base of his organ to the tiny hole at the apex.
His flavor was like his odor-strong, salty and very exciting. Cynthia could feel her clitoris quiver between the lips of her pussy as she allowed the taste of his young prick to permeate her hungry mouth! She licked his cute little balls and his sparse, light brown pubic hair tickled her nose and almost made her laugh!
Marty's heart jumped into his throat when he saw his mother purse her lips and bring them down over the cap of his aching rod! He felt the fantastic warmth of her mouth surround his throbbing knob and every muscle in his twelve-year-old body spasmed. "OH!" the young boy groaned when he watched his hard cock slowly disappear into her gorgeous mouth. He saw her lips work their way down his shaft, pressing and caressing every inch of his surging organ while she drew it to the depths of her warm throat.
Marty had never had anything feel this good before in his life! He had heard of this, even listened to the guys at school talk about getting a blow-job from one of the women who worked in a whorehouse in the trailer park outside of town. He had dreamed of going out there with one of the older boys, of having his cock sucked, but never in his wildest fantasies had he believed it would feel this good!
Cynthia's flesh came alive and began to tremble when she filled her mouth with his darling young prick. She could feel it caressing her inner cheeks, pressing against the roof of her mouth, reaching into her throat, and she cradled the throbbing stick lovingly with her excited tongue. Cupping his youthful testicles in her hand, she began moving her loving lips up and down the length of his hard rod. She scraped her teeth lightly over his swollen member and heard him groan with pleasure. She pumped his balls lightly and felt them expand and contract in her hand.
Cynthia began rubbing her erect nipples against the young boy's thighs. The contact sent waves of pleasure coursing through her aroused system. She could feel the dew begin to form on her burning pussy.
"Hey!" the excited boy cried. "I'm going to shoot off! Hey!"
In his inexperienced mind, Marty thought she would stop sucking him. He thought she wouldn't want him to shoot his load into her mouth, but when he cried out all she did was to suck him faster! He didn't want to make her mad by spurting off in her mouth, yet the excited twelve-year-old boy could no longer control himself! His balls were so swollen they felt like basketballs!
Cynthia's mouth moved up and down his prick like a huge sleeve. She licked and sucked him frantically, pumping his cute little balls to urge his excited, quaking body to its climax. She sucked on his cock like a child pulls on a straw in a thick milkshake. She wanted to drain his vessel and pull his creamy juices into her belly.
"Yiiieeeee!" the boy cried when his penis exploded, spurting his creamy jism into his wicked, sexy mother's hot mouth. He felt it begin in his shaking toes and travel through his youthful body like a race car. His prick felt like a machine gun spitting a steady stream of white hot bullets into her throat!
Cynthia's body was rippled with intense spasms the minute the first jet of his hot semen splashed into her cheeks. She had never experienced anything like this before! It was like a series of tiny orgasms rocketing through her.
The thirty-five-year-old woman sucked her twelve-year-old son's cock with everything she had! She loved the sweet taste of his hot cream and delighted in the sensuous feeling of having it trickle down her throat like the waters of a bubbling brook. She pumped his balls, urging every drop of his juice into her mouth. She rolled small gobs of his cream around on her tongue, savoring his exciting flavor. Cynthia sucked and sucked until his slender rod was bone dry.
"Did you like that, Marty darling?" she asked, holding his partially limp penis in her hand and fondling it affectionately.
"Gee, yeah!" he groaned. "That was neat-superneat! Do you like to do that, Mom?"
"I love it, Marty!" she exclaimed, licking her lips like a cat.
"Does it make you hot?" he wanted to know.
"Yes," she sighed, wishing the fire in her cunt would subside. She was left hanging on a cliff and her passion was demanding release.
"Did it make you hot to suck the guy's cock on the beach?"
"Yes, darling," she admitted, wishing he would not ask so many questions. But she realized that the curiosity of youth was not easily satisfied. He wanted to know, to learn about his body and about a girl's body.
"What did you do?"
"When?"
"When you got hot sucking the guy's cock on the beach," he said a little impatiently.
Cynthia wasn't going to tell him about Buck and her horrible adventure with the black man. She would tell no one about that! As far as she was concerned, it had never happened.
"We did things to each other," Cynthia mumbled evasively.
"What things?" Marty demanded. "Just ... just things, darling."
"Did you let him see you jack off?"
"Not exactly," Cynthia replied softly. "What do you mean?"
"Well, he wanted to learn all about sex, so I taught him."
"Will you teach me the same things? Will you?"
"Yes, if you want me to."
"Oh yes! Did the boy jack you off?"
"Yes, several times. And he gave me the most wonderful blow jobs. He was a lovely boy, Marty."
"Teach me! Please, teach me! I want to make you feel as good as he did! Please. Show me how."
"What do you want to learn, darling?"
"If you could have anything you wanted right now," the young boy countered, "what would you choose?"
"Uuuummmm! Let's see," Cynthia said, leaning her head on the back of the couch. "I'd love to have my cunt licked, really eaten!"
"Teach me how!" cried the eager youth.
Cynthia spread her thighs wide apart and scooted her tail forward so that her crotch was open and blooming like a golden flower.
"Kneel on the floor between my legs, darling," Cynthia said in an excited voice. She watched her twelve-year-old son get down on his knees between her legs and sparks began flying through her heated body as his face poised just inches from her nest. She reached down and spread the lips of her cunt with her fingers.
"What do I do?" the boy asked eagerly.
"Lick it," she said in a throaty voice. "Run your tongue all over it-OOOooooohhhh! That's it! OH GOD!"
The woman hadn't realized how superheated her body was until she felt the sweet boy's tongue gliding over the sensitive flesh of her vulva! When the tip of his tongue touched her clitoris she almost exploded! Then she felt it dip inside her vagina, and she was certain she was going to come unglued! She reached up and cupped her firm breasts in her hands, massaging her quivering nipples between her fingers.
"Am I doing it right?" the youth asked as he licked his mother's pussy with wild abandon. The taste of her sex excited him and made the blood rush to his penis once again.
"Yes, sweetheart," she moaned. "It's so good! Move your tongue up a little. A little more. That's it! Oooohh! That's the most sensitive part of a girl."
"This bump?"
"Yes! YES! That's called the clitoris, dear, and licking it can make a girl very happy. Gently! Remember, it's very sensitive. Just rub it beneath your tongue."
"Like this?" he said, rolling his tongue lightly back and forth across the hard little bump near the top of her slit.
"AAAaahhhh! OH! OH MARTY!" she moaned, the flames in her body leaping higher and higher each time he touched her button with his sweet, probing tongue.
Marty looked up and saw his mother playing with her tits while her hips ground against the cushion on the couch to rub her dripping wet pussy against his mouth. He felt his balls begin to swell and ache as her body responded to his loving mouth.
"Lick it, Marty. OH ... GOD ... LICK ... MY ... CUNT!"
She squeezed her burning nipples between her fingers and ground her crotch hard against the twelve-year-old boy's face as her body soared to new heights of passion and lust.
Henry Mullen's pass key worked in the door to Cynthia Freeman's apartment and he let himself in quietly. The hallway at the entrance was dark and Henry stood very still until his eyes and ears adjusted themselves to the surroundings. The lights in the living room were on and he heard excited sounds of human beings engaged in something very physical.
Henry had used his pass key instead of ringing the bell because he thought there might just be an off chance that he would catch Cynthia with a man. He'd always thought a woman with her figure wouldn't spend her nights alone, but no one had ever heard about her dating.
From the sounds in the living room, it sounded like Henry might just be in luck! He reached in his pocket for his special miniature camera.
Through Connie, his teen-aged daughter, Henry had learned about the incident involving Marty Freeman and the girl named Penny. By calling coach Hopkins, Henry had been able to squelch any action against Cynthia's son. This was one of the reasons he had come to her apartment tonight, to make sure she understood that he had helped kill any scandal involving young Marty.
Henry moved silently to the entrance to the living room and his cock almost tore his pants open when he saw the scene on the couch. For a moment he couldn't believe his eyes! Cynthia Freeman was stark naked on the couch and her nude son had his face buried in her twat! Her moans and cries made it obvious she was enjoying having her young son gobble her twat!
Henry Mullen brought his miniature camera to his eye and began snapping the silent shutter. This was almost too good to be true!
Cynthia was so excited she was unaware of anything in this world other than her son's electric tongue and the marvelously exciting this it was doing to her cunt! Perspiration began pouring from her creased forehead when Marty crushed her quivering clitoris between his young lips!
"OH! YES! NOW! I'M COOOOOMMMMIIIINNNNGGGG!" she screamed as her groin erupted with what seemed like the force of an atomic bomb. Rockets burst before her tightly shut eyes and her heart stopped beating for a moment. Her taut muscles strained as her quaking body arched inches above the couch. She placed her hands on Marty's head and pressed his face tightly locked against her steaming pussy.
Marty thought he was going to smother for a moment! He could hardly breathe the way she held his mouth and nose pressed into her cunt. He was thrilled by the way he had made her scream with joy! It filled his chest with pride and made him feel like a man. It also made his young balls twitch and burn with desire!
"Was it good?" he asked, licking his wet lips when she finally released his face from her pussy.
"Better than good!" Cynthia sighed. "What was it you said? Oh, it was superneat, darling!"
"I like doing that to you," the twelve-year-old boy said to his mother. "It makes me hot!" .
Cynthia smiled when she saw his cute little penis standing at perfect attention and straining between his loins. She reached out and took it in her hand.
"It looks like you need another blow job, darling," Cynthia said softly.
"Would you?" he asked eagerly.
"Of course, sweetheart. Get up here on the couch."
Henry Mullen pressed his back against the wall in the hall and reached down to rub his throbbing cock. He felt the damp circle on his slacks and wasn't surprised. Henry considered himself somewhat unique and super-sophisticated in sex, but he had to admit that seeing Cynthia with her son was very stimulating! Cynthia's body was twice as good as Henry had imagined it would be, and she was certainly enthusiastic!
He glanced carefully around the corner and saw Cynthia kneeling between her twelve-year-old son's legs. While he watched, she bent down and slipped her lips around the boy's rigid cock. Her big tits were resting on the kid's legs and her long blonde hair hung down as she began sucking the boy's pecker.
Thankful that he had bought a thirty-six exposure roll of film, Henry brought his miniature camera back into play. He caught her licking the kid's nuts, running her tongue up and down the boy's swollen shaft, and taking his cock into her mouth. When he was satisfied he had enough, Henry quietly made his way to the door and let himself, unseen and unheard, out of Cynthia's apartment. He closed the door carefully, but did not take the time to lock it.
Marty's eyes were filled with the thrilling sight of his mother's head bobbing up and down in his lap. He watched his cock slide in and out of her wet, warm mouth and felt her tongue swirl all around his throbbing organ as she took him into her throat. The young boy thought this was the most exciting day of his life! It was a day he would never forget as long as he lived, a day he wanted to record somewhere as the date of his becoming a man.
He could feel his mother's tits rubbing against his legs and it felt like her nipples were burning little trails as they moved back and forth.
Cynthia felt like a young girl again! She was playing the eager, urgent, sex games of youth, and she loved it! When his little balls began twitching in her hand, she pumped them hard and drew her cheeks in to suck him as firmly as she could. She didn't want to waste one precious drop of his young passion.
"GGeeeeeeeeee!" he cried, his balls exploding suddenly to send their molten cargo to the depths of her throat. Marty closed his eyes and knew he was the luckiest boy on earth!
CHAPTER EIGHT
The aura of contentment that had surrounded her from the moment she awakened disintegrated the minute she walked into the savings and loan. Briefly Cynthia wondered why it was that when she was the happiest she had ever been in her life she was confronted with serious problems in her work? Always before, she had claimed that she lived only one life-that centered around her career. Now she had two lives, and she jealously wanted to keep them separate!
She had no sooner sat down at her desk than her phone rang. It was James Madison calling from New York. She wondered why he was calling so early, then remembered that it was three hours later on the east coast.
"How's everything going?" he asked.
"Fairly well," Cynthia said into the phone. She wondered how much she should tell him about the things she had discovered yesterday and decided to wait until she had more information. She briefed him on several matters and he agreed with her decisions. Then she mentioned the computer error and the mysteriously missing one hundred and six thousand dollars.
"I don't like the sounds of that," he commented. "It could spell serious trouble, Cynthia."
Cynthia told him she understood the ramifications and that she was working on it as first priority. She asked him about the New York project.
"It looks even better than I thought," he replied. "I think it might be just the edge we need in these troubled times. We'll need a million one to handle our part, so have Carl see what he can do with the mutual fund."
Cynthia assured her boss that Carl was working on the mutual fund already.
"Okay, I'll call you on Monday," he said. "To be perfectly honest, I'm going to play hooky and take a four-day weekend. A fellow has invited me out on his yacht. With you at the helm of our ship, I think I'll just take him up on it."
Cynthia smiled at his use of his favorite term for the savings and loan and bid him good-bye and good sailing. She was glad he wouldn't call again until Monday. That gave her time to try to clean up the mess she was working on. She felt a little guilty about not warning him about the problems she felt might exist in the books, but she still felt it was better not to worry him until she had something concrete.
Cynthia walked over to Carl's desk and asked him about the four accounts in the name of Catherine Larson.
"Larsen? Larsen, Larsen, Larsen," he said as he flipped through his file of account cards. "Ah, Larsen, Catherine. Here we are. Oh sure, I remember this! Henry opened these accounts for the Larsen woman. He took the signature cards out to her place to have her sign them. She's bedridden, if I remember correctly."
"But why four separate accounts, Carl?" Cynthia asked.
"Damned if I know. He opened them a month apart, if I'm not mistaken."
"And no street address?"
"Damn Henry!" Carl said. "I told him about that when he brought the first set of signature cards back, and he said he'd get the address and note it on her account card. I can see he never did!"
"Okay, I'll speak to Henry about it," Cynthia sighed. "How are you coming on the mutual fund? I just spoke to Mr. Madison and he said to tell you he'd need a million one on this project back east."
"A million one!" Carl said with a low whistle. "I'll be surprised if we can realize that much out of the mutual fund! My guess is that it will be closer to nine hundred and fifty grand."
"We'll just have to take the rest from our cash reserves, then," Cynthia remarked.
"Any luck on that missing hundred and six grand?" Carl asked.
"Not yet. I'm going to work on that just as soon as I talk to Henry about several matters."
"Good luck," Carl said with a smile.
Cynthia did not know how to react to the superior smile and knowing gaze with which Henry Mullen greeted her. He irritated her from the minute they exchanged good mornings and Cynthia was angry with herself for her lack of patience with this man. She asked him about the Catherine Larsen account and he replied very casually.
"Oh, I guess I forgot to get her address," he said offhandedly. "I'll have to do that."
"I'd appreciate it, Henry," she replied as nicely as she could. "Why does Mrs. Larsen have four accounts?"
"Beats me," Henry replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "That's the way she wanted it.
"I see," Cynthia sighed, realizing she was wasting her time talking to Henry in his present mood. "One other thing, Henry. Our small, unsecured loans have grown out of porportion lately, and a number of loans are behind on payments."
"Now, don't you trouble your pretty little head about loans, Cynthia," he replied with an almost nasty smile. "I've been in charge of the loan department for some time, and Mr. Madison has never found fault with my performance. So you just leave it to me to take care of my department."
Cynthia was so made she wanted to slap the superior smile off his face! She wanted to remind him that she was second in command in the organization and that he was under her direction, but she held back. Nothing would be served by antagonizing him this morning, and she could always let Mr. Madison handle him when he returned from New York.
"Have it your own way, Henry," she said sweetly. "I just thought we could clear some things up without bothering Mr. Madison later on."
"Oh, I'm sure we won't have to bother Mr. Madison," Henry said with his lips curved in a broad smile. "No, I'm positive we won't have to bother Mr. Madison at all."
Cynthia nodded, turned on her heel and walked away. What in the devil did he mean by that? Cynthia wondered. The way he said it, it sounded almost like a threat! She decided he was either bluffing or that he intended to take care of everything before Mr. Madison returned.
She was still thinking about Henry when she sat down behind Mr. Madison's desk and spread out the account ledgers to begin her search for the missing one hundred and six thousand dollars. It hadn't always been this way with Henry. Some years back Cynthia had been on friendly terms with Henry and his wife, Edna. She had been invited to dinner at the Mullen's home a number of times and she and Edna had been relatively good friends.
Things changed abruptly when Edna was the fatal victim of a tragic auto accident. Henry had become bitter after his wife's death. Several of the girls at the office said it was because Henry had married Edna for her family's money, and because she died before her parents Henry would never see a penny of the family estate.
Cynthia knew there was some truth in this because Edna had told her several times that they were deep in debt. Edna said half-jokingly that they were spending her inheritance before she received it. Cynthia felt sorry for the Mullen children, Connie, age thirteen, and Jeff, age eleven. It was no secret that Henry lavished everything on these children and many considered them the most spoiled brats in Wymore.
Cynthia assumed that Henry had carried a substantial life insurance policy on Edna's life, because since her death Henry had managed to get out of debt, move to a large penthouse apartment, and buy a new car. She decided that fate worked in strange ways. Henry had prospered from Edna's death, but from a different source than he'd expected.
She pushed Henry Mullen from her mind and began examining the account ledgers. With the door to Mr. Madison's office closed, Cynthia wasn't disturbed. She broke for a sandwich and coffee at twelve-thirty, and by three-forty-five she had compiled a list of eighty-one accounts that had unusual or heavy activity in the past six months.
It was five-fifteen and the rest of the staff had left for the day when Cynthia discovered the first discrepancy in the accounts. She had been tediously through sixteen of the eighty-one accounts, and on the seventeenth she hit pay dirt. The account belonged to the local druggist, one of the wealthiest men in town. His savings had been made on a regular basis over a period of twenty years. He was in the habit of depositing five hundred dollars on the fifteenth of every month. Yet just sixty days ago his account was debited in the amount of five thousand dollars. And during that same month there was the usual five hundred dollar deposit recorded.
When she checked back, Cynthia could find no documentation for the five thousand dollar deposit. She checked the records twice and found nothing. Then she ran the computer tape for that date and found the deposit entry. The documentation for the tape was in perfect order, with the sole exception of the five thousand dollar entry.
Cynthia was about to quit and call it a day when she noticed that on that same date there was a nine thousand dollar credit to Harmond account-the account with the missing one hundred and six thousand dollars.
"Either that's one hell of a coincidence," Cynthia remarked aloud, "or somebody is playing a very dangerous game!"
By the time she said good-bye to the night watchman and headed for her old Pinto, Cynthia had another splitting headache.
CHAPTER NINE
Cynthia was headed for the kitchen to pour herself a stiff drink when she saw Marty sitting at the breakfast table with papers and colored pencils spread out before him.
"Hi, Cynthia," the twelve-year-old boy greeted, using her name rather than the more accustomed "Mom". They had agreed on this that exciting night they had discovered each other. "Look at this!"
Cynthia took the hand-colored map of the United States he held out to her and studied it. Each state was a different color, and the major rivers were out-lined in bright red.
"Very good, Marty," she said. "Geography class?"
"Yeah, our homework. Anct I already finished math and English."
"You must have started early," Cynthia remarked.
"I did. As soon as I got home."
"And to what do we owe this miracle, darling?" Cynthia smiled. Getting Marty to take an interest in school and to do his homework before the last possible moment had been a constant battle for Cynthia over the past year and a half. To come home and find him finishing his homework early was truly a pleasant surprise!
"I thought if I had my homework all done maybe we could do things together tonight," the boy said, his cheeks flushing a bright pink.
"What?" Cynthia asked with a devilish smile.
"You know! Sort of have fun ... play games."
"You mean have a little orgy?" she laughed.
"Sure!" the boy responded excitedly.
"My, my!" Cynthia smiled. "It sounds like I have a very horny young man on my hands!"
"Well, gee," the boy replied in an embarrassed tone.
"I'm just teasing you, darling," she said, walking up behind his chair and placing her hands affectionately on his young shoulders. "Do you feel sexy, Marty?"
"Gosh, yes!" the twelve year old sighed. "Alice Wilson told everybody she wasn't wearing a bra today at school. She had on a tight sweater and you could see her nipples and everything!
"And that aroused you, darling?" Cynthia asked softly.
"I wasn't the only one with a hard-on," he laughed. "You should have seen the guys hanging around her all day!"
"I can imagine! Tell you what, let's have dinner and then see how we feel. Okay? I have a splitting headache."
"Want me to get you some aspirin?" Marty asked.
Cynthia was about to say that she'd rather have a good stiff drink, but nodded her head instead. She didn't like this habit of drinking she had acquired lately! And if they were going to play with each other later, she wanted to be perfectly sober. She was tired of having everything dulled by the haze of alcohol!
She took four aspirin and started dinner. Cynthia was trying something new tonight, one of the packaged hamburger mixes. Inflation was tearing her monthly budget apart. The prices in the market were becoming prohibitive and, like most other Americans, Cynthia found herself forced to practice every economy she could!
They both enjoyed the hamburger casserole, but Cynthia privately wondered if she could make a regular diet of it. The tension of her day seemed to disappear as she sat quietly sipping her coffee while Marty sat on the floor glued to the TV screen viewing his favorite show. Her headache had faded to a dull pain at the base of her neck and she took two more aspirin.
Cynthia caught herself thinking about the problems at her office and scolded herself. She had a new rule that she would leave the affairs of the savings and loan at the office and devote herself to a new life away from her career. There was so" much she wanted to do with Marty!
"How would you like to go fishing in the mountains?" she asked when the boy turned the television off and came to sit beside her on the couch.
"That would be neat!"
"And maybe we could go to the beach."
"And I could learn to surf!"
"Tell you what, Marty darling," Cynthia said, "let's plan to start going places on weekends."
"Tomorrow?" he asked excitedly. "It's Saturday."
"Well, not tomorrow, darling," she sighed, placing her hand affectionately on his knee. "There's an awful mess at the office and I have to do some work this weekend so I'll be able to report to Mr. Madison when he calls next week. But we'll start next weekend."
"Promise?"
"I promise," she said with a smile. "Where will we go first?"
"You choose. Where you would like to go first?"
"Gee, I don't know. Hey, could we go to a nudist camp?"
"A nudist camp!" Cynthia exclaimed. "What in the world made you come up with that? And what would we do at a nudist camp?"
"I thought it would be neat to see lots of girls naked," Marty responded.
"Wouldn't you be embarrassed to walk around naked in front of a lot of people, darling? I know I would!"
"Gee, maybe. I didn't think of that!"
"And my sexy little man would have a constant hard-on," she laughed.
"I guess you're right," he sighed. "But it was a good idea."
"You're just horny, Marty darling," Cynthia commented with a smile while she moved her hand up his thigh towards the protrusion at his crotch. "Look, you're already hard!"
"Yeah," Marty said, blushing a little. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?"
"I think you've got sex on the brain," Cynthia laughed, placing the palm of her hand on top of his straining penis and rubbing it affectionately.
"I'm no different than the other guys at school," the twelve year old replied defensively. "That's all they ever talk about."
"I know, sweetheart," Cynthia said, rubbing her palm in circles over the swollen head of his straining prick.
"Is it different when you're a grownup?"
"No, I don't suppose it is," she replied. "Adults talk about sex a good deal of the time."
"Do you think about sex a lot, Cynthia?" he asked, squirming beneath her exciting acresses.
"Not as much as I should!" she laughed.
"Gee, I even dream about it every night!"
"What do you dream, darling?" she asked, squeezing his darling little cock in her hand.
"Last night I dreamed a beautiful woman wanted me to fuck her, but I didn't know how! I woke up with a hard-on and all sweaty!"
"It's warm in here now," Cynthia remarked, the boy's words making her pulse more rapid. "Maybe we should turn the furnace down."
"We'd be cooler if we took our clothes off," the boy suggested. "If you want to, I mean."
"That's a good idea, sweetheart," Cynthia smiled. "We'll have our own little nudist camp right here in the apartment."
"Hey, yeah!"
Without waiting, the boy jumped to his feet and began peeling off his clothes. He was naked before Cynthia could even unbutton her blouse! She caught herself staring at his cute little pecker. It jutted straight out from his crotch at full attention. The shaft gleamed with a film of his excitement and the swollen head was as red as a partially ripe tomato. She could actually see his penis quivering with excitement!
Cynthia slipped out of her blouse, loosened her bra and pulled it free of her shoulders, then stood up to unfasten her skirt. She wiggled her hips and let it drop to the floor, then rolled her panty-hose down over her full buttocks and firm thighs. When she sat down on the couch to remove her hose, Cynthia's pulse quickened at the sight of the animal lust registered in her son's eyes!
"What do you think it would be like at a nudist camp?" she asked impishly. "Do you think the girls would come up to you and take your hard cock in their hands like this to say hello?" she added, reaching out to squeeze his throbbing shaft in her hand.
"If they did, they'd get wet!" Marty moaned. "Do you think it's like that, Cynthia? I mean, do they do things like that at nudist camps?"
"I don't know, darling," she laughed.
"Would you? I mean would you walk up to some guy and grab his prick?"
"I might," she laughed, putting herself into the spirit of the game they were playing. "But only if he had a beautiful prick like yours."
"Gee!" the boy sighed. "Then what would you do?"
"Well, I might kiss it like this," she said with a smile.
Cynthia dropped her mouth to the precious boy's crotch and planted a wet kiss on the swollen, straining head of his penis. She ran her tongue down the shaft and swirled it all over his blood-inflated organ.
"Would you suck him off right then and there?" Marty asked, gurgles of pleasure rumbling in his young throat as his mother licked his surging, aching cock.
"I might, if he wanted me to," she said, spreading her thighs to relieve the growing pressure in her pussy. She couldn't believe how excited she became just holding the child's penis and kissing it. It was like she was suddenly plugged into a surging electric charge!
"And what would you want the guy to do to you?" the young boy persisted.
"Lots of things," she responded with a light laugh. Marty was so eager and so curious!
"What?" the twelve-year-old boy demanded.
"Oh, I'd have him play with my tits and get me all excited," she replied.
"Like this?" Marty asked, reaching out to cup her firm breasts in his young hands.
"UUUuummmm! Yes, darling, like that!" she moaned. She loved the way he caressed her breasts. His touch was gentle, yet eager and exciting! His young fingers massaged her sensitive nipples with something close to reverence. The woman loved the tiny sparks his hands sent racing through her body. She held his cock in her hands and rubbed it lovingly while he fondled her chest with his excited hands.
"Then what?" the boy asked eagerly.
"Well, if he liked it, I'd want him to kiss my tits," she said with a low moan rumbling in her throat.
"Teach me how!" the boy exclaimed excitedly, leaning over to bring his eager young mouth to his mother's firm breasts.
Cynthia's heart was filled with emotion as she watched the darling young child bring his lips to her trembling breasts. He was so eager and devoted to pleasing her! And his flexible young mind was so overflowing with a sincere desire to learn.
"Take my nipple into your mouth," she said, patting the lovely child's head with one hand while she held his hard prick in her other. "Ummm!
That's it. That feels so nice! Rub it with your tongue. UUUUUmmmmm! Oh, yes, I like that, Marty darling! Suck on it now, like I suck your beautiful cock. Be gentle, darling. Ooooohhh!"
The boy sucked his mother's nipple into his mouth and began rubbing his tongue around it in circles. Her tit wasn't as exciting as her cunt because it had no odor or flavor, but he loved the way her entire body began to tremble as he sucked her rapidly hardening nipple! Exciting her excited him! It made him feel like a man, like her lover!
Cynthia's breath rasped in her throat as she stared down at her son's cute mouth locked on her tit! She remembered the secret pleasures she had experienced when she nursed him as a child. His hungry mouth had several times almost taken her to orgasm, but she never told anyone, even her husband, about that.
The thought crossed her mind that sex had always been a very personal little secret with her. Maybe it was wrong, but Cynthia wanted to keep it that way. She wanted Marty all to herself until he was old enough to start dating girls seriously.
A fire was spreading through Cynthia's body with the speed of a river flooding its banks! His licking, sucking, and nibbling on her sensitive nipple made her rage with desire! She could feel the dampness forming on her pussy and there was an itch there that was driving her crazy!
She pulled her thighs apart and began pushing the cute child's head down to her lap. He resisted at first, reluctant to take his mouth away from her firm tit. When her hand increased its pressure on the top of his head, the twelve-year-old boy instinctively knew what she wanted and he darted his mouth down to the golden next between her legs.
"Yes, darling," Cynthia said urgently, "eat my cunt! OOOoohhh! That's it! Lick it! Oh, Marty darling!"
Sweat broke out all over flesh when she felt her twelve-year-old son's sweet tongue slide into her slit! She felt it dart and probe through the moist meat of her vulva, flicking inside her steaming hole and then swooping up to her quivering, erect clitoris.
"AAAaaahhh!" she moaned when he pursed his little lips around her hard clitoris and began nibbling the sensitive flesh teasingly. She placed her hand on top of his head and pressed his face tight against her wet crotch. Her hand stroked his throbbing cock with a slow pumping motion and she could read the twelve-year-old's pulse along the shaft of his surging penis.
Marty could tell his mother was very excited from the way she shoved his face into her hot cunt! He licked her as fast as he could, running his young tongue from one end of her slit to the other, dipping into her vagina and anus with each long swipe. He traced the thick, puffy, wet lips of her cunt with the point of his tongue and felt her body quake each time he flicked it against her hard clitoris. He drank her juices like a milkshake. Most of all, Marty loved the smell of her pussy! He inhaled it deep into his lungs and couldn't get enough of the heady aroma!
Cynthia was so hot she wanted to scream! She couldn't believe her passions could become this aroused in a matter of minutes. Her muscles were taut and her body twisted and writhed as the blazing fire in her vulva swept through her entire system! She arched her hips and ground her cunt into the darling child's face. She loved the way he jabbed the tip of his cute nose into her hole and screwed her slowly while he nibbled and licked her clitoris!
"Oh, Marty!" she cried.
Marty was beside himself with desired Her pumping hand on his aching prick was driving him wild! His balls were swollen and throbbing and he knew he was close to coming. The twelve-year-old boy wondered desperately if she would let him do what he wanted to do to her-what he had dreamed about doing to her? He was afraid to ask, afraid that she wouldn't let him, so he decided to try it without saying a word.
The boy wanted to fuck Cynthia, shove his pulsing prick up her cunt and fuck her! He squirmed free of her pumping hand and pulled her trembling legs apart. Crawling up between her firm thighs, he aimed his stiff penis at the dark hole between the lips of her pussy.
"OOOOOoooooooooohhh!" Cynthia cried when she felt his slender rod penetrate her scalding hot vagina. It all happened so quickly he caught her off guard! An electric charge swept through her body as she felt his prick working its way to the depths of her vagina.
"Marty! We shouldn't! We can't do this, darling! Oh, Marty, no! We mustn't!" she groaned, trying to wiggle her hips to free her cunt of his invading organ.
"Please, Cynthia!" the boy pleaded, jerking his young hips and ramming his hard stick deeper into her hot body.
"Oh, Marty darling," she moaned. "We just can't. It's wrong." She knew her voice didn't sound very convincing, and that was because his cute little prick felt so good in her cunt!
"Why?"
"Because...." she began.
"You suck my cock and I eat your pussy," he cried pleadingly. "Why can't we fuck? Please, Cynthia. I want to fuck you!"
"But...." she protested, her traitorous body loving every inch of his penetration. She could feel his swollen balls pressed against the cheeks of her ass as he sank his cock to the hilt inside her. It was so exciting! So completely filling and wonderful!
"Please, Cynthia! I want to fuck you. Teach me how!"
Cynthia's body overpowered her mind. She loved the feeling of having his hard prick buried in her cunt! She could feel his heart beating excitedly along the swollen shaft of his penis and her own pulse seemed to double!
"OH! OOOOOHHH!" she cried when he jerked his hips and ground the blood-engorged head of his organ against her cervix. "Yes! Yes, Marty! Fuck me! FUCK ME!"
The boy's lack of knowledge made him falter. He had always thought that fucking a woman was shoving his cock inside her and holding it there. But he found the friction of movement inside her cunt far more exciting and he began working his hips to increase the friction of his throbbing organ against the hot walls of her vagina. After several false starts, instinct showed the twelve year old the classic in-and-out movement and he began jabbing his prick into her boiling hole.
"OH ... GOD ... THAT'S SO GOOD!" she cried. She wrapped her legs around his slender young waist and screwed her cunt up and down his pulsing rod by squirming her hips.
Marty found that the faster he moved his cock in and out of her cunt the hotter he became! His feverish mind registered the fact that this was the best, most exciting thing they had done together. His balls were roaring like a jet taking off. Even his asshole puckered and quivered as he pounded his prick into her boiling cunt!
"Fuck me, darling! Fuck me, darling. FUCK ME!" she cried, her arms wrapping around his neck to squeeze his chest against her bobbing breasts. She rubbed her nipples against his firm chest until she thought they were going to burn up! She ground her clitoris against his heaving pelvis until tears flooded her eyes!
Their bodies bounced up and down on the couch. The twelve-year-old's hips seemed to fly like rampaging pistons shoving his rigid prick to the secret depths of her womb! With each downstroke, the boy's balls were caught between the cheeks of her ass and held prisoner momentarily, their surging, aching load compressed beneath the firm flesh of his mother's ass.
"NOW! OH MY GOD NOW, MARTY DARLING!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.
I'M COOOOOMMMMMIIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!!!"
"Yiiieeee!" the young boy cried when she contracted her vaginal muscles on his aching cock and squeezed until his balls exploded with the force of a bomb!
"CREAM ME!" she cried through gritted teeth. "Shoot your cream in me! More! More!" she urged, her heels digging into his ass to spur him on.
Both mother and son were crying with joy as their excited bodies writhed and twisted in ecstasy. They hugged and kissed, and when Marty found that his prick was still hard he began fucking her again. This was a long, slow screwing that kept them groaning and panting for almost half an hour.
They slept in the same bed that night, and Cynthia woke up a half an hour before the alarm was due to sound and found her delightful twelve-year-old son between her legs pumping his cock into her excited cunt. For the first time in her life, Cynthia Freeman began a day with a crashing, thunderous orgasm!
CHAPTER TEN
Working alone in the building and free of any interruptions, Cynthia was amazed at the amount of work she accomplished by five o'clock Saturday afternoon. She was also saddened by what she had found.
By eleven o'clock that morning Cynthia's suspicion was strong enough for her to take a short break and walk down to the local post office for a brief visit with Sam Carter, the postmaster. On a very friendly, casual basis, she asked Mr. Carter if he could give her Catherine Larsen's proper address. And because it was a small town, Mr. Carter obliged by checking his card file on applications for post office boxes.
"Why that's Henry Mullen's sister!" he said when he located the card. 'The name wasn't familiar because she just remarried, but I remember when Henry opened the box for her. Let's see, she lives on the old Ritter farm in north country. You know where that is, Cynthia?"
Cynthia assured him she did, thanked him and walked back to her office. With her suspicion confirmed, the rest of the task was easier.
By two o'clock she had found seventy-six thousand of the missing one hundred and six thousand dollars, and she was relatively certain that was all she was going to find because the rest of the accounts balanced perfectly.
Cynthia's attention was then directed to the unsecured loans she had noted the day before. Within an hour she was fairly certain that some twenty-five thousand dollars worth of these loans was questionable, if not blatant fraud.
The picture took solid form in Cynthia's mind. Over the past year and a half Henry Mullen had been systematically ripping off the savings and loan company to the tune of approximately fifty-five thousand dollars! It had been executed cleverly, so cleverly that Cynthia had no positive proof.
Henry had stolen thirty thousand from one account, covering his tracks by making a series of debits and credits that appeared to be a computer error. He did this through a series of complicated entries over an extended period of time, knowing that when the first discrepancy was discovered months would be required to unscramble the mess and find the culprit-thus allowing him ample time to disappear. Cynthia's investigation was at best superficial. Before Henry could be accused formally, an audit would have to be made and every entry verified.
There was, however, no doubt in Cynthia's mind. She was positive that he had opened the savings accounts in his sister's name to give himself a method of taking the funds out of the bank. Cynthia was willing to bet that Henry's sister had no idea she had the savings accounts. Henry had forged her name to the signature cards so that he could use the same signature for the withdrawal of funds.
The unsecured loans were all part of the same pattern. They were the familiar pyramid operation so often found in embezzlement. One loan went to pay off another and the number and size of the loans steadily increased. Because he was the head of the loan department, Henry Mullen could exercise complete control in this area.
Cynthia sighed as she closed the books on her desk and leaned back in her chair. She wondered what had made Henry do it. Obviously, he needed money. Yet why would he take such a risk? As an officer of the savings and loan, Henry knew full well the legal risk he was running. He also knew that no matter what he did the day would arrive when he would be discovered. There was no way in the world he could hide something like this forever. In Cynthia's mind it was nothing short of a miracle that he made it through the last annual audit without being caught!
"Apparently he plans to .skip the country," Cynthia said aloud to herself. "So what do I do now, coach?" she murmured, using one of James Madison's favorite cliches.
The obvious thing, of course, was to call in the bonding company. All savings and loan employees are bonded and the bonding company is responsible for any money illegally appropriated by a bonded employee. Cynthia hesitated to take this step. Any such action should originate with James Madison. He could, and probably would, instruct her to call in the bonding company once she briefed him on her findings.
Cynthia wished she could reach Mr. Madison immediately. She felt the matter was that serious! But he was aboard a private yacht and not available until Monday or Tuesday, so it would just have to wait.
Everything would be much neater and easier if Henry would confess. That would save having the investigation stretch out over a period of weeks or even months! And it might ease the punishment he received.
She remembered a similar case in Los Angeles where a vice president of a bank had ripped the bank off for almost eighty thousand dollars. The man had confessed the instant his crime was discovered, and the bonding company made an agreement not to prosecute in court if the man would pay the money back over a period of years. The bonding company helped him find a job, then allowed him to keep one hundred dollars a week of his salary for his living expenses. The balance of what the man earned went toward paying off his debt to the bonding company. Every time the man complained bitterly about his miserable existence on one hundred dollars a week, the bonding company reminded him that he was better off than having to spend ten years in prison. The bonding company, on the other hand, was slowly recovering its loss, which it could not have done had it sent the man to prison.
In Henry's case, Cynthia felt sorry for the children, Connie and Jeff. Their mother was dead and if their father was sent to prison the children would be sent off to live with some distant relative who would almost certainly resent the interruption in their lifestyle.
Yet if Henry would confess, there was an outside chance he could make some arrangement with the bonding company. For the sake of his children, Cynthia decided she would talk to Henry before she spoke to Mr. Madison.
"There's no time like the present," she said aloud as she looked Henry's phone number up in his employee file. She hesitated a moment, then dialed Henry's home telephone.
"Henry, something important has come up and I'd like to talk to you," she said after they exchanged cool greetings.
"Something to do with the office?" he asked almost too casually.
"As a matter-of-fact, yes," she replied. "It's serious or I wouldn't bother you at home."
"All right, Cynthia," he replied calmly. "You've never seen my apartment, have you?"
"No," she said.
"Well, why don't you drop by and I'll buy you a drink? Do you know where I live?"
"The Munroe Towers?"
"Right," he replied. "The penthouse. Take the private elevator. How long?"
"Half an hour," she said quietly.
"Fine. I'll see you then."
Cynthia found Henry's casual, unworried tone disheartening. He knows I'm checking the books, she said to herself, you'd think he'd be scared to death! She tidied up her desk, went into the rest room to freshen her makeup and comb her hair, and then drove across town to the Munroe Towers. When Burton Munroe discovered oil on his property in Southern California he decided to build a luxury apartment house in his home town. Munroe Towers had been a financial disaster. Wymore simply wasn't big enough to support the sixty luxury apartments, but Burton Munroe had shrugged it off as an excellent tax loss. Cynthia knew that Henry Mullen had made an excellent arrangement for the penthouse suite when Mr. Munroe suddenly decided he liked the climate in Southern California, but she suspected it was still too expensive for a man of Henry's means.
She pushed the single button in the private elevator and when the doors opened at the end of the ascent she found herself in the luxuriously furnished living room of the penthouse suite.
"How nice of you to come," Henry said, greeting her with a broad smile. "I've been meaning to ask you up to see my digs, but it's been one thing on top of another, Cynthia. What are you drinking?"
"Whatever," she replied, as she steeled herself for the unpleasant task she was facing. "Just make it strong, Henry. I've had a full day at the office."
"A double coming right up," he beamed, walking over to a mirrored bar on the wall. "You shouldn't be working on weekends, Cynthia. That's a sure way to ulcers."
"There were some things that just couldn't wait," she sighed, walking over to the wall of glass that overlooked the city of Wymore and the surrounding hills. It was a spectacular view!
"What a gorgeous view, right?" he asked, handing her a glass.
"I was just about to say that," she returned with a smile.
"I thought so. Everybody does. Especially women. It's even more spectacular in one of our winter storms. Burt Munroe may not have spent his money wisely, but he knew what he wanted. Cheers!"
Cynthia clinked her glass against his and watched him drain his cocktail in one long swallow. Her nervous tension had doubled the minute she walked into the apartment and she gulped her drink down in an effort to calm herself for what she had to do.
"Hey, we both were thirsty!" Henry laughed. "How about another?"
"Please," she responded, "but make it light. I have something serious to discuss with you."
"Sure," he smiled, walking to the bar and making two drinks. He returned, handed her her cocktail, and said, "How about a tour of the pad before we talk?"
"I'd like that," Cynthia replied slowly. Her words sounded thick and she was feeling suddenly very dizzy! Her head seemed to be swimming and her knees felt weak. "Give me a moment. I suddenly feel terribly woozy."
"Is anything wrong?" Henry asked solicitously.
"I ... don't ... know," she stammered. "I feel ... awful!"
"Look, if you're ill, maybe I'd better take you home and we can talk later," he offered.
"I ... think ... that ... would be best," she muttered.
Cynthia leaned heavily on his arm as he guided her to the elevator. She couldn't understand what had come over her! She had all she could do to move her legs! They felt like they were made of lead! She closed her eyes in an effort to keep her balance. She kept murmuring apologies as Henry practically had to carry her through the garage to his Buick Riviera.
She almost fell when he lowered her leaden body into the front seat of the car.
"I'm ... terribly ... sorry," she muttered as he climbed in and started the car. Cynthia held onto the dashboard to support her jelly-like body. The movement of the car made her dizzy and a little nauseated and she had all she could do to remain conscious. She had never felt like this in her life!
"I ... live on the ... other side of the river," she gasped when she looked out the windshield and saw that they were pulling on the freeway and heading east.
"We're not going to your place, Cynthia dear," Henry remarked with a chuckle.
That chuckle was the last thing Cynthia heard. It seemed like a ton of concrete fell on her and she slumped back in the seat unconcsious. A series of jumbled scenes passed one after another before her unconscious mind. She seemed to be on a wild roller coaster ride. At one point she was struggling to climb up toward a distant light. Just as she was about to reach the light she felt a sharp pricking pain in her arm. Then she tumbled backwards through the black void once again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cynthia regained consciousness gradually. She felt like she was climbing a steep ladder with a thousand pound pack on her back. When she finally managed to force her eyelids open she found herself staring at a cream colored ceiling. Somehow she knew she was on a bed and that she was stark naked. Her vision was blurred for a moment, then the room came into sharp focus. It was a strange room.
There was movement on the bed and Cynthia could hear breathing. With no small expenditure of effort, Cynthia turned her head. The sight that greeted her eyes caused her to blink! For a moment she thought she was still in the middle of one of the incredible nightmares she had been living through for God only knew how long!
There were two people next to her in the king size bed. A man and a woman. The man was stretched out comfortably on his back smoking a cigarette. His penis was fully erect and jutting up from his crotch. The woman was on her knees between his legs, bobbing her head up and down in the man's lap. Cynthia watched the man's thick cock slide in and out of the girl's mouth, then glanced up to see if she recognized the man. His features were unmistakable. It was Henry Mullen!
Cynthis returned her gaze to the woman and her breath caught in her throat when she realized it wasn't a woman at all! It was Connie Mullen, Henry's thirteen-year-old daughter! And she was giving her father an enthusiastic blow-job!
The woman summoned the depths of her body for the superhuman strength it required for her to pull herself into a sitting position.
"Well, well," Henry Mullen chuckled, "sleeping beauty is finally awake! Say hello to your new mother, Connie."
"Hi, Mom!" Connie laughed, releasing her father's swollen prick from her hungry mouth for just a moment.
"Mother?" Cynthia exclaimed. "Mother? Where am I? What time is it? God, I'm so disoriented!"
"Small wonder," Henry replied. "I imagine that was your very first doze of knockout drops. Are you conscious enough to understand me, Cynthia?"
"Yes," she replied in a tiny, quaking voice. 'Tell Connie to stop that!" she cried.
"Oh no, I'm afraid I won't do that. I love to have my daughter suck my cock, Cynthia. And she's quite good at it, just as I suppose your boy is good at eating your cunt."
"For God's sake, Henry!" she cried. "Tell me what's going on! Have I lost my mind?"
"I certainly hope not," he laughed. "I wouldn't want to think I married a crazy woman."
"Married? Please, Henry!"
"Okay," he said in a stern voice, "let's get this over with, Cynthia. Pick up that manila envelope on the nightstand."
Cynthia tried to keep her back to the scene next to her on the bed, but her eyes swept across their naked bodies and hesitated a moment on the sight of the naked young girl. She was a beautiful child with a supple, nubile young body. Her hair was jet black and hung straight down to her waist. The expression in the young girl's eyes told Cynthia that Connie truly enjoyed what she was doing. She watched the child's mouth work up and down her father's hard penis, loving it, licking it, kissing it, and sucking it into her mouth with joy.
Cynthia tore her eyes away from the erotic scene and located the envelope on the nightstand. She picked it up and opened it.
"Listen carefully, Cynthia," Henry said as she pulled some papers out of the envelope. "Last night I drugged your drink and drove you to Nevada. We were married at midnight. You'll find the marriage certificate in proper order."
"Married? How could you marry me if I was unconscious?"
"I arranged for a stand in," he explained, "a girl who looked reasonably like you at a distance. She even wOre your clothes for the ceremony. There are some rather blurred but adequate wedding photos in the envelope, and you'll note that your signature is on the marriage license."
"Why?" she gasped, her mind wrestling with the incredible situation as she glanced at the documents. The signature on the marriage license looked reasonably like her handwriting, and the girl in the blurred photos did resemble her enough to make anyone look twice! "Why, Henry?"
"A wife cannot testify against her husband, Cynthia," he laughed.
"But you know I can have this set aside!" she protested.
"You might be able to, but you won't even try, Cynthia," Henry laughed. "Slow down, Connie. I don't want to pop my nuts until after I've explained everything to your new mother. Oh, don't stop! Just slow down."
"I will, Henry," Cynthia said. "I'll have you arrested for this!"
"Open that small envelope, Cynthia," Henry chuckled. "When you see what's in there, I don't think you will want to have anybody arrested!"
Cynthia opened the smaller envelope and her heart leaped to her throat when she saw the snapshots of Marty and her making love! She could hardly believe her eyes, but there was no doubt that the photos were real!
"You see, there are laws against the things you and Marty like to do," Henry purred proudly. "Fortunately for you, a husband can't testify against his wife either. So I'm certain you will want to keep me as your husband, Cynthia."
"You bastard!" she snapped.
"That's no way to act on your honeymoon, Mrs. Mullen," Henry laughed.
"Where are we?" Cynthia asked.
"In my apartment-or I should say 'our' apartment. All right, Connie. I think your new mother understands everything now. Show her how you can drain my nuts! Watch her, Cynthia, she's good! That's why I decided to marry you instead of kill you, Cynthia, because we're so alike! You like to ball with your son, and ever since Edna died I've been balling my lovely children. Oh, that's good, Connie!"
Cynthia tried to tear her eyes away from the erotic act but they refused to move! How could she watch a thirteen-year-old girl suck her father's cock? She was so embarrassed she wanted to die, but her eyes remained fixed on the scene before her. She saw Connie's tender young lips stretched taut as they worked their way up and down her father's thick prick. She saw the nubile young child's hands cup her father's hairy balls as her head bobbed up and down at his straining crotch. The expression in the thirteen-year-old girl's eyes left no doubt that she loved what she was doing, and Cynthia knew that the teenage girl was doing it well!
"AAAAaaaaaahhhhhh!" Henry moaned when his balls exploded to send their molten load into his pretty daughter's mouth.
Connie kept sucking her father's cock until it became limp, then she held it in her fingers and licked it completely clean and dry.
"Was it good?" she asked her father coyly.
"Super good, Connie darling," Henry sighed.
"I can't believe any of this!" Cynthia cried, holding her hands over her eyes as she began to sob.
"You'd might as well adjust, Cynthia," Henry said quietly, patting his daughter's lovely head. "Jeff is over with Marty at your place. He spent the night there while we were out of town."
"I'll bet Jeff taught Marty some new tricks!" Connie giggled.
"They'll be here in a little while. I gave Jeff money for a taxi," Henry said.
"Oh, I can't wait for Marty to get here!" Connie exclaimed. "In those photos he really looks hung! I can't wait to try him!"
"Why don't you comfort your new mother, Connie?" Henry said. "She's crying."
Cynthia fought to control herself. She wished he had killed her rather than put her through this! The enormity of it all was too much for her still partially drugged brain. She kept clinging to the slim hope that none of this was true, that she was dreaming the entire thing. But she knew better than that! It was real and there was nothing she could do about it!
Connie crawled over and placed her arm around Cynthia's shoulders. The girl held the thirty-five-year-old woman affectionately.
"Don't you want me for a daughter?" Connie asked in her young voice.
"Oh, Connie!" Cynthia sighed. "It's not that. You know it isn't! You're a lovely girl."
"I think you're just saying that," Connie pouted.
"I'm not, Connie," Cynthia said, her heart going out to the child. "You're a lovely child. It's just that I'm so confused!"
Cynthia closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. She seemed to be swirling around in a whirlpool!
"You have such a pretty body, Cynthia," the thirteen-year-old nymphet said. "I hope my tits grow as nice as yours!"
Cynthia felt the young girl's hand softly caressing her breast. The woman kept her eyes tightly shut in a hopeless attempt to get her bearings. The drugs in her system made her a little dizzy and she held onto the pretty young girl for balance. The child's hand on her breast was affectionate, warm, even pleasant. She could feel Connie rolling her nipple slowly between her thumb and forefinger, applying just enough but not too much pressure.
"I'm so dizzy and weak," she said softly to the young girl. "Maybe if I lie down for a" few minutes."
"Just relax, Cynthia," the child said sweetly, lowering the older woman gently back to the mattress. Connie thought Cynthia had the prettiest figure she had ever seen! She hoped she would fill out to look like Cynthia when she grew up. The thirteen-year-old had read every book her father had bought on sex, and she had always wanted to try it with another girl. Her father knew this, and when Connie looked over with a question in her young eyes he nodded his assent.
The dark-haired teenager dropped her face to Cynthia's quietly rising and falling chest. She fondled the older woman's nipple between her fingers, then leaned down and captured the bud softly between her young lips. Connie loved to have her tits sucked and she knew exactly how to make it exciting. She fluttered her young tongue over the surface of Cynthia's bud until it quivered and popped erect.
Cynthia had her eyes closed and she forced herself to relax. She had to find sanity in this insane situation! But first she had to clear her confused mind! Cynthia felt the soft caresses on her breast and wanted to push the thirteen-year-old girl away. At the same time she dared not hurt the young child's sensitive feelings. Although she still couldn't believe it, Cynthia realized that she might very well be living with this man and raising his children as his wife.
Cynthia was surprised when a surge of passion swept through her body. She had to hold back a moan of pleasure when she felt the child's lips and tongue on her breast! Cynthia remained perfectly still in an effort not to let the child know that she was becoming aroused. She tried to force her mind to other things, but the small fire on her chest seemed to keep growing and growing!
Connie's female instinct told her that Cynthia was becoming hot. She licked and sucked the older woman's firm tit until it trembled beneath her lips, then reached down and placed her young hand between Cynthia's thighs to press them apart. When the older woman's legs were spread apart, the young nymphet crawled down between Cynthia's thighs and reached out to part the lips of her golden-crested pussy.
Both her father and brother licked Connie's cunt all the time, and she now imitated what they did to her by bringing her young mouth to Cynthia's blonde nest and slipping her tongue into her pink slit. Connie was excited. It was fun to love a girl! She knew what excited her the most when her father or brother ate her, and the thirteen-year-old girl directed her tongue to Cynthia's clitoris.
"Ooooooohhhh!" Cynthia moaned when she felt the tongue begin fluttering against her sensitive bud like the wings of a butterfly. She hadn't realized how aroused she was! The pleasant feeling she had been enjoying while the child sucked her breast now became a raging fire sweeping through her entire body. Her eyes flew open and she saw the pretty young girl's head buried in her crotch. Connie's silky black hair cascaded over Cynthia's creamy white thighs and the older woman could see the thirteen-year-old girl's pink tongue flashing in and out of her mouth as she licked her pussy like it had never been licked before!
Henry was standing out of sight on the other side of the bed, his miniature camera clicking silently as he put the erotic scene on film as a form of insurance.
Connie dedicated herself to arousing the older woman's passion. She used her tongue as a weapon of love, licking and lapping the most sensitive areas and caressing Cynthia's now erect clitoris with teasing flicks that caused the thirty-five-year-old woman's body to writhe on the mattress.
"OH CONNIE! Ooooooohhh!"
Cynthia's cry covered the sound of the elevator doors opening in the living room. Marty Freeman and Jeff Mullen walked into the room. Henry saw them and waved them over to the entrance to the bedroom.
"Hi, guys," Henry greeted. "Have a good time last night?"
"Wow, yeah!" Jeff said. "Marty sure knows a lot!"
"Your sister is teaching his mother a few things right now," Henry laughed. "Hey, why don't you take off your clothes and join in?"
Marty was uncomfortable in front of this strange man who stood naked before them, but he and Jeff had really enjoyed themselves the night before and when he saw Jeff begin stripping down he followed the younger lad's lead. .
When the two youths were naked, Henry led them into the bedroom.
"Wow!" Jeff Mullen exclaimed, reaching down to stroke his suddenly erect prick when he saw his sister going down on Cynthia. His eyes darted to Cynthia's proud chest and his cock strained in his hand. "Would I ever like to fuck that!"
"Go ahead," Henry chuckled. "Connie's got her good and warmed up for you!"
Marty's penis felt like it was going to burst its tight skin when his eyes focused on the exciting vision of Connie Mullen's nude body. She was kneeling between Cynthia's legs with her round ass high up in the air. Marty could see the dark fuzz of her pubic hair between her legs and his balls began aching:
Marty watched his new eleven-year-old friend walk boldly over and tap his sister's luscious ass. While Marty watched with bulging eyes, Connie looked up, saw her brother, glanced at his hard prick, smiled and crawled free of Cynthia's body.
"MY GOD! don't STOP NOW!" Cynthia screamed when Connie removed her face from the older woman's steaming crotch. Before she could say another word eleven-year-old Jeff was on top of her and lunging his cock into her cunt.
"AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" Cynthia screamed when her vagina was suddenly filled with a hard, pulsing prick. Her mind rebelled against what was happening to her, but her body was so aroused she couldn't control herself! "Yes! YES! FUCK ME!"
Connie looked over at Marty and winked. She loved the way his long cock was shaking at his groin. When he did not move toward the bed, she realized that he was shy. So she got off the bed and walked over to him, reaching down and taking his cock in her hand the way a man might shake another man's hand.
"Hi, I'm Connie. Want to fuck?" she said with a giggle.
Marty's balls felt like they were going to fall off when she squeezed his rigid, blood-inflated prick in her warm hand! He couldn't get over how pretty she was. Her tits were small and immature, but they stood proudly pointed on her chest. Her pubic mound protruded slightly and her slit was plainly visible beneath the light covering of her jet black pubic hair.
Without saying a word, the twelve-year-old boy threw his arms around the thirteen-year-old girl's body and he pressed his mouth against her pliant pink lips. She shot her tongue into his mouth and pumped his cock in her hand while they kissed, then led him laughingly to the bed.
Henry leaned his back against the bedroom door and smiled as he snapped more insurance photos. She's a hot bitch, he said to himself as he watched Cynthia wrap her legs around the eleven-year-old boy's waist and dig her heels into his flying hips to urge him on. Henry decided he might even take a shot at Cynthia himself, even though his sexual taste now ran to near pubescent girls. He turned his camera on Marty and Connie who were now locked in the classic sixty-nine position, exploring each other's crotch with their hungry mouths.
He snapped a series of photos as the twelve-year-old boy turned around and mounted his thirteen-year-old daughter. Connie will certainly be happy with two young guys to take care of her, Henry told himself. He had noted lately that his daughter had turned into a teenage nymphomaniac. She couldn't get enough sex and had been constantly arguing their strict rule of limiting sex to the family. Henry watched Marty insert his long slender cock in his thirteen-year-old daughter's cunt and ram it to the hilt with one swift lunge.
Cynthia was out of her mind with passion as the eleven-year-old boy fucked her expertly! She realized that Jeff was far more experienced than Marty. He used his hard prick like an artist uses a brush. He varied his tempo in a teasing manner that drove her wild. First he'd screw her with a series of short, fast strokes. Then he'd slow down and work his cock into her cunt with long, lazy thrusts.
Cynthia tossed all reason aside and let the animal urges of her body take over. She ground her hips and worked her boiling hot cunt up and down the length of his young shaft with everything she had. She gave nothing and met him stroke for stroke as they both panted for breath in their energetic coupling.
Marty had never run across anything like Connie Mullen! He knew that she came twice while he was licking her pussy and he suspected that she had another climax the minute he shoved his hard prick into her hot cunt! She had teased him with her mouth until he thought he was going to faint with pleasure! She sucked him right to the edge of orgasm, then teased him until he was cool enough for her to suck him to the brink again! And the way she worked her young hips when he shoved his rod up her!
"AAAAaaaiiiieeeeeeee!" Cynthia cried with delight when she felt young Jeff's cock expand and begin spurting hot seed into her vagina. She held the child tightly and milked his darling penis by expanding and contracting her vaginal muscles. Her own orgasm was so intense it was like a series of firecrackers exploding one after another inside her groin.
"Fuck me, Marty!" nubile Connie screamed, pounding her young fists on his heaving back. "FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK MEEEEEeeeeeeeeee!"
Henry Mullen smiled as he leaned against the door and finished the roll of film in his miniature camera. He was inordinately pleased with his decision to marry Cynthia rather than dispose of her. They would, he thought, make one hell of a family!
CHAPTER TWELVE
The following week would remain an unfinished jigsaw puzzle for the rest of Cynthia's life. It was like a series of short scenes with no order or pattern.
On Sunday night Henry called Carl and announced their sudden marriage and told Carl they were taking a one-week honeymoon. Packing very lightly, the entire family piled into the Buick and drove up to the picturesque Oregon coast. They took a large suite in a luxury motel nestled in the rocks at the end of Gold Beach.
People who dote on records might put this down as one of the wildest, longest sex orgies in history. There is very little known to man that these three children and two adults failed to try sexually that week.
Highlights were etched on Cynthia's mind. There was the moment when she took on the two young boys at the same time, with one stiff penis in her vagina and the other hard cock up her rectum. Her orgasm was so intense she actually blacked out for a moment! Cynthia couldn't count the times she was busy sucking a cock while being screwed by another hard prick.
There were moments when she resented thirteen-year-old Connie because of the child's insatiable sexual appetite. Connie actually wore all three males out on several occasions, but Cynthia could hardly be angry with the nymphet who was always willing to bury her hungry mouth in her stepmother's pussy and take the thirty-five-year-old woman to incredible heights of passion with her talented tongue.
Cynthia returned this exciting favor twice, licking the lovely little girl's cunt until the child screamed with delight, and she found that she enjoyed doing it.
Between the acts of their sexual circus, the family walked on the beach and explored hidden coves. The children had great fun searching for agates and driftwood. Cynthia and Henry often talked as they strolled along the surf. She asked him about the money he had taken from the savings and loan and Henry readily explained everything he had done. He told her that his master plan called for another ninety days, at which time he would pull off the big one and disappear to live in Mexico. Cynthia and Marty were now included in that plan.
"If you want, that is," Henry said with a smile. "I'm not going to force you to spend the rest of your life with me, Cynthia. You know I married you to keep you from blowing the whistle on me before I had finished what I began. When I split with Connie and Jeff for Mexico, you can stay here and claim I deserted you-or even have the marriage set aside. It's up to you, and you don't have to decide Until the very last minute."
Cynthia did not comment on this. In these few days she had become very fond of the children, but she still could not bring herself to like Henry Mullen! It wasn't that he mistreated her in anyway. And it wasn't because she objected to his sexual philosophy. After all, weren't they very much alike in that? What bothered her was that Henry was basically dishonest.
From several remarks made during their almost continuous sexual activity, Cynthia suspected that Edna's death might not have been an accident after all! Henry Mullen made no secret of the fact that he was devoted to money and the pleasures if afforded. When she asked him why he had set out to steal so much from the savings and loan, Henry summed his entire philosophy up in a few words.
"Life is short, Cynthia," he said, "and we only get one lousy shot at it. We bust our asses daily and then reward ourselves every now and then with a little sexual escapade here, a vacation or a new car there, and feel proud of ourselves. In a sense, we're both slaves and masters at the same time."
"But it's always been that way, hasn't it?" Cynthia protested.
"Maybe," he replied, "but today there's a big difference. Nobody can keep a fortune made legitimately today. Taxes take care of that. So we're busting our asses to support crooked politicians."
"And that's always been true, Henry," she said.
"Maybe, Cynthia, but in other times it was something people could either control or cope with. Today, organized crime in politics is so huge it's beyond the control of anybody. The wealthy politicians legislate loop holes that allow the rich to become richer. It's a vicious circle, and Henry Mullen doesn't intend to stay in the middle! I'm going to get mine and get out. Then I'll sit back and laugh at the games the other play."
Cynthia pleaded with Henry to confess his theft and try to make a new start, but he only laughed at her. She dreaded the day she would have to return to the office! Every atom of her being wanted to expose Henry, yet she knew he would strike back viciously and do everything in his power to send her to prison as a sexual degenerate.
Cynthia told herself that she could stand going to prison, but what she couldn't take was the responsibility of ruining her son's life! She knew about the photos Henry had taken of Marty making love to Connie, and Henry had made it clear to her that if anything happened to his plan he would have Marty arrested and sent to a juvenile detention home.
They arrived at Wymore on Saturday in order to give Cynthia and Marty time to pack up their personal belongings in Cynthia's apartment and move them to the penthouse suite at Munrow Towers. Henry arranged to borrow a friend's station wagon and helped them with the first load. Then he announced that he had to leave town for the night. Henry refused to tell Cynthia where he was going or why, but he assured her he would be back by noon the next day.
When they finished the fourth load in the station wagon, Cynthia and the three children were exhausted! There were a few more things to be moved, and Cynthia announced that they would finish the next morning.
Hot and sweaty, Cynthia decided to take a shower. As she was adjusting the spray on the fancy showerhead, Cynthia heard the bathroom door open and she turned to see Jeff walk in. He was stark naked and smiling.
"Share?" he said.
"Sure," she smiled. She had never taken a shower with anybody in her life, but it sounded like fun. Cynthia climbed in and the eleven-year-old boy followed. He grabbed the bar of soap and playfully began applying a generous lather to every part of her body.
When the child brought the bar of soap up between her legs and began rubbing it against her cunt, Cynthia's body trembled and came alive. She stood there with the spray beating against her back and allowed the young boy to rub her pussy until she was moaning with desire. Then she took the soap from him and began lathering his youthful body.
Jeff was more plump than Marty, but his baby fat gave him a pleasingly round appearance. Cynthia smiled when she saw his erect penis jutting out from his crotch and she began caressing it as she covered it with a foamy lather. His prick was shorter and thinner than Marty's. Jeff's organ was in the development stage, but his experience and enthusiastic use of his cock more than made up for any difference in size.
When Cynthia turned around to allow the spray to rinse the lather from Jeff's body, she felt the eleven-year-old boy's hands grasp her waist. She dropped the soap in her excitement, and when she bent down to pick it up she suddenly felt his hard prick lunge into her vagina from behind.
"OOoooohhh!" she gasped, remaining bent over as the young boy began fucking her with hard, fast strokes that sent waves of passion crashing through her aroused system. She leaned against the corner of the tiled shower and bucked her hips to counter his hard driving cock.
Jeff held the woman's waist tightly and pounded his cock into her cunt with heated determination. His plumb young body slapped against hers with a loud spanking sound and his balls seemed to rumble in his ears. God, how he liked to fuck her!
Cynthia's breast was swollen with love. She truly loved these children and the marvelously exciting things they did together! When she felt her climax approaching like a roaring jet, the older woman reached back between her legs to grasp the eleven-year-old boy's swaying balls in her hand. She fondled them and then began pumping them urgently to make him shoot his hot semen into her vagina.
When it came it felt like hot arrows darting into her veins and coursing through her entire system! She felt his balls expand and erupt and the boiling juices splashed against the walls of her aroused vagina to trigger an orgasm that made her body quake! She cried out and held onto the tile wall as her body shook like a mass of quivering jelly.
Both of them were weak as they toweled each other dry. They fondled each other casually, then walked hand in hand into the bedroom.
A smile creased Cynthia's lips when she saw Marty and Connie on the bed. Marty was on his back and Connie was sitting on his erect prick, bouncing up and down and squealing with delight.
They had sausage and cheese pizzas at eleven o'clock that night and the four of them fell into exhausted sleep in the king size bed. Cynthia fell asleep with Jeff's hand resting on her pubic mound.
The phone rang at five-fifteen Sunday morning. Cynthia struggled out of a sound sleep and sat up on the bed. She saw that the children were still asleep and she climbed out of bed to find the telephone. She followed the sound of the ringing bell into the living room and found the phone on an end table by the sofa.
"Hello?" she said, still trying to clear the sleep from her head.
"Mrs. Mullen? Mrs. Henry Mullen?" the male voice said on the phone. The name was still strange to Cynthia and she hesitated a moment before answering.
"Yes. Yes, this is Mrs. Mullen," she said at last. The voice of the highway patrol officer was soft, almost sympathetic, as he explained that Henry Mullen had been in an automobile accident.
"Oh, no!" Cynthia exclaimed. "Is he all right?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Mullen, but your husband died in the crash," the officer replied.
Cynthia listened quietly as the officer explained briefly what had happened. Henry had attempted to pass a car on a winding mountain road and ran head-on into a lumber truck. He was rushed to a hospital in Mt. Shasta, California, but was declared dead on arrival. Cynthia thanked the officer for calling her and hung up the phone.
The next twelve hours were like a nightmare for Cynthia. She drove to Mt. Shasta alone to identify the mangled remains of Henry's body. The children wanted to go, but from what the highway patrol had told her Cynthia did not want them to see what was left of their father.
She arranged to have Henry cremated in Mt. Shasta and then started the three-and-a-half hour drive back to Wymore. Cynthia drove slowly, carefully considering her situation. There were several alternatives open to her. She could have the marriage set aside and arrange for Jeff and Connie to go live with their grandparents. She could let the marriage stand and raise Henry's two darling children along with Marty. She could expose Henry's manipulations at the bank and use the proceeds of his estate to at least partially repay what he had stolen.
Cynthia's mind wrestled with her knowledge of law for a moment. Was she responsible for Henry's crime? Could they attach her assets and force her to pay back what he had stolen? She remembered several cases involving a wife's responsibility for her husband's crime, but she couldn't recall the law.
Of course, she could do what Henry had wanted her to do-cover his tracks for another ninety days and help him steal a quarter of a million dollars from the savings and loan. It would be so ridiculously simple! Henry's plan was touched with genius! As he said, it was fail safe! Cynthia could even do it herself, and then she could run away to a foreign country to raise the three lovely children in luxury and without interference. It was certainly tempting!
"The lady or the tiger?" Cynthia laughed aloud as she pulled her tired Pinto into the underground garage in the Munroe Towers. For over three hours she had been wrestling with a problem that had only one logical solution! And now that she had made her decision, Cynthia felt relieved and completely relaxed!
