This is a true story, presented in a fictionalized form. Of course, the names and descriptions of the people have been changed to protect them, innocent or guilty. As it happens, the heroine of the book, "Marge," doesn't feel guilty at all. She has come a long way, from her Midwestern restrictive upbringing to a freer life with an entirely different set of values.
The real Marge is living at this moment on the island of Ibiza, off the coast of Spain. (Readers may recall Ibiza as being the site where the famous fake autobiography of Howard Hughes was written, and the plot laid to pull a hoax on the publishers and the entire world.) But Marge isn't involved in any complicated scheme such as that. She and Henry, still her husband in spite of everything, live there very contentedly with the other expatriates and the Spanish natives. They have friends of all ages, and manage to keep themselves in food, rent and marijuana from Henry's retirement income from the Navy.
In correspondence with the author, Vicki Keyes, Marge has written that she thinks a lot about the events portrayed here and wishes she could draw some conclusion, if not a moral; some advice that would help other women in her situation. She says that she never expected her life to turn out the way it did. She started out doing the conventional thing, and clung to it long after it was obvious that conventions weren't helping her.
Ms. Keyes believes that the Navy isn't to blame so much as the social conditions in the country as a whole. Youngsters grow up and marry, expecting to find the "happily ever after" they've been promised. And when it doesn't turn out that way, they turn to alternate life styles in a last-ditch effort to salvage their lives. Change is in the air, she adds, and it affects all of us whether we know it or not.
She has a point, in that Marge's hopes and disillusionments are not unique. And something leads us to believe that her solutions are not all that unusual or singular, either. Men and women from the beginning have taken lovers, and found pleasure in doing so. Other women have sought the safety of a teenage boy friend, in the belief that they could control the situation and avoid scandal or marital breakups. Sometimes it works-it certainly did for Marge! Albeit, in an unusual way, as not many husbands are as agreeable as Henry turned out to be in the end.
So it is left to the individual reader to draw his own morals, his own decision on whether Marge was indeed a perverted evil woman or a brave spirit who was not afraid to experiment.
In any case, Marge's story makes amusing reading both to those who agree with her, and those who don't.
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CHAPTER ONE
"Let me see you to your car, Marge."
Of course she knew better but there were times when knowing something and doing the right thing about it were, well, two different things. He wanted to get her out in the dark and play grabass and part of her wanted the very same thing, damn it. She wasn't going to go any farther than a little necking, she knew even that wasn't right, but what the hell. Her pussy was twitching and creaming, she had drunk too much, and she smiled and let him walk her out of the Officer's Club.
The very first minute they were out in the darkness, he was all over her. Just as she'd known would happen. The bulk of his chest pressed on her tits, his hands grasped her waist, his hot greedy mouth covered hers wetly. His big hands held her tightly to him while his urgent demanding kisses fanned the pinpoint of lust deep inside her.
She could hear the music faintly through the wooden walls. The corner of the building was lighted, behind her the entrance glowed brightly, but they had an illusive sense of privacy in between, where the tall flowering bushes sprang out over the walk.
"Please, please, no, Stu," she moaned when she could free her mouth from his sucking wet grip.
"Don't tell me no," he mumbled, getting a new hold on her and running his hands roughly up and down her back. She felt his fingers nudge against the swell of her buttocks and she shuddered, not wanting to respond but knowing her betraying body wasn't saying no.
If it only didn't feel so good! Her pussy was creaming, her hips moving involuntarily, her hands snaked up around his neck. Alcohol tingled in her veins, weakening her will to resist. She knew she shouldn't have had those last couple of drinks! But hell, she had to have some fun some time!
"Let me alone, Stu," she managed to gasp before he began kissing her again, his thick tongue forcing its way into her partly opened mouth. Circulating wetly, his tongue curled around hers.
Marge certainly WANTED to yield to Stu. Yield, shit! She wanted to grab his arm and drag him right into the bushes, and rip at his clothes as well as her own. She wanted his fat hot prick up her cunt the worst way. Or the best way, she thought, giggling.
"What's so damn funny," he muttered, annoyed.
"Nothing." Nothing was about it, too, because she'd made up her mind a long time ago on this one point. She wasn't going to change, either.
She might cheat on Henry some day; she wouldn't rule it out. But she never ever would make it with another Navy man.
She and Henry had been married long enough, twenty years, and she'd seen it all. Even on their honeymoon, all those years ago, they'd run into one of Henry's officers with somebody else's wife! And she'd heard the sniggering remarks going down, the smartass gossip among the guys. Of course she didn't blame the women, or the men, either, really. The Navy and its systems was what was to blame.
When couples were young and newly married, when the babies were growing up and needing their daddies, when the hot-blooded young wives needed their men-that was when the husbands and fathers were gone most of the time.
And then usually by the time the husbands had more or less permanent shore duty, the marriages were already ruined. The wives had learned how to get along without their men, how to raise children by themselves. They'd coped with car problems and fixed the leaky toilets, and paid the bills and made some kind of social lives. They'd sat up-alone-with kids with measles and broken arms, made the decisions, paid the bills. And they'd also learned to masturbate, or cheat, or something. It was a bummer, but that was the way it was.
Marge remembered clearly how she'd discovered all these things, and she never forgot the promise she'd made herself. No matter what, the petty officers and yeomen and their gossipy wives weren't going to laugh at Marge Shervold. They wouldn't call Henry's wife a roundheels, a nympho, a faithless wife!
Of course it got harder every year instead of easier, and that was why she was out here in the dark with Stu, supposedly one of Henry's best friends. She'd gotten along pretty well for a long time but when she began to think about turning forty in a couple of years, her repressed sexuality began to give her hell.
Anyhow, she put her hands on Stu's shoulders and pushed, as hard as she could. Their wet suctioning mouths separated slowly, air rushed in between their clinging bodies. There was a moment when she almost couldn't stand it, when she was ready to clutch at him and pull his hard male body close to her again. Her very skin ached with wanting.
But somehow she kept moving. In a moment they stood facing each other on the sidewalk, both flushed and panting.
"God, Marge, why? You know you want to," Stu argued, even though he knew he wasn't going to make it.
"I don't know," she admitted.
"You don't think for one minute that Henry's ... that Henry's any different than the rest of us, do you?"
"No ... I don't know ... I don't care." Marge smoothed her dress, running her hands down her overheated body. "I'm going home now, Stu. You'd better get back to the party."
When she climbed into her car, even her thighs brushing against each other set her on fire. She felt like she'd been on the front lines in the battle of the sexes, and the wrong side won. She supposed she never should have gone to the O Club in the first place, but Christ, she had to have some fun sometime!
Drag your horny ass home, girl, she told herself. You've proved something all over again tonight, but damned if I know what it was. Stubborn, her mother used to call her. Bullheaded, Henry said when they quarreled.
Stupid, was what she told herself. It wasn't just that Henry was out on a tour again, somewhere in the Pacific. Even when he was home she might as well be alone for all the good it did here. The fucking rat! Or rather, the non-fucking rat! He hardly ever touched her any more, she couldn't remember the last time they'd had a good satisfying screwing. He was angry and depressed all the time. He'd been passed over for promotion, and they both knew what that meant. He'd be processed out, probably some time in the next year. And Henry just couldn't take it.
The lousy Navy was his mother and father and wife and kids, or at least he thought it was. The truth was, she knew, he was afraid of civilian life. He'd been in the Navy since he was eighteen, he was one of the few who went up through the ranks. And the brass sure as hell weren't going to promote an almost twenty-year man, because that only meant he'd get a bigger pension when he retired.
Of course, left to himself, Henry would never retire. Navy was all he knew, all he wanted to know.
Which left his loving wife Marge in a helluva fix.
She didn't care what he did for a living, she'd long since gotten over the glamor of Navy life and the thrill of being an officer's wife. In fact, it might be a pleasure to have a husband around all the time, going to work and coming home at night like other men. They might even have a chance to get acquainted with each other.
Her thoughts ran over the same track, again and again, and it didn't help at all to have her pussy throbbing and creaming like it was. She supposed she could go home and masturbate while she watched the late movie, but that was getting to be a big drag. It didn't really relieve the tension, not all the way; just gave her a quick relief that left her in worse shape than ever.
Marge parked in the driveway and didn't bother to lock the car, or even close the front door behind herself. If some crazy rapist wanted to break in, she'd make it easy for him. She had to grin at the thought, picturing some angry stud commanding her to lie on the floor and take her panties off, while she licked her lips and said, "Hurry up!" , It wasn't late, only about nine o'clock. She flipped the television on and sank down into a chair. Nothing worth watching, of course. She got up and went to the kitchen, her plump hips swaying, her full boobs jiggling. She wished now she'd stayed at the club longer, gotten pissass drunk. She wished she'd let herself get so smashed she wouldn't resist when Stu or some other hungry male "took advantage" of her.
And the lord knew there were plenty of them wanting to do just that!
She didn't have to look in a mirror to know she was a sexy looking woman. She could see it mirrored in the men's eyes when she swayed her way into the club. Heads turned, eyes looked at her appraisingly. Some of Stu's group bought her drinks and a few friends of Henry managed to touch her, pat her on the ass or squeeze her arm, using friendship as an excuse. It was no wonder she was so hot and horny!
The few women in the bar, wives and girl friends, had probably breathed a big sigh of relief when she left! Marge had known she was sexy-looking since she was eleven years old, and it was part of the reason she'd married at seventeen. She hadn't known how to handle the hot eyes and grab-ass hands that followed her wherever she went. Marrying Henry, she was safe and protected.
Safe enough, she realized, that she never minded dressing up to her appearance. Her dress was cut low in front, over the huge rounds of her breasts, and clung to her full hips. She let her curly blonde hair hang long, a style most women her age couldn't get away with. There were a lot of prettier women around, but few who could cause a man's pulse to throb as Marge could.
And what good did it all do her!?
She realized that at thirty-eight, she'd been flirting with life and sex all her life, promising more than she gave, flaunting herself in men's eyes. And then retreating into the safety of her marriage. It was wrong, no doubt, but she didn't know how to change at this point. She didn't know who or what she really was.
She uncapped a beer and took a mouthful, letting the stinging coolness trickle down her throat. She found a cold chicken leg in the refrigerator and took it into the living room along with the beer. She was a good cook with nobody to cook for, a good housewife for an absentee husband, a fantastic lady with no male to use her the way she needed to be used.
Shit, what a wasted life!
Gnawing hungrily on the chicken, staring blankly at the television, she felt a warm summer breeze through the screen door. It made her ache even more.
"Missus Shervold?"
The voice from the porch made her jump. Still holding the chicken leg, she went to the door and snapped on the light.
"Oh, Donald! You startled me." She held the screen door open. "C'mon in."
The gangling seventeen-year-old boy edged awkwardly into the living room, and perched on the edge of a chair. Marge had known him for years now, since she and Henry bought this modest stucco house in Coronado. She'd watched Donald grow from a round-faced boy shooting marbles in the driveway, to an almost-adult who blushed every time she spoke to him.
She and Donald's mother, Frances Whitley, were polite to each other, but they'd never been friends. She was the kind of woman who instinctively distrusted Marge's flamboyant good looks, and Marge never bothered to push the friendship. If Frances thought she was a floozy, well let her! Even though she had no real reason, Marge thought viciously, except for her own blah personality and her female jealousy.
"What's up, Donald? How about a beer?"
"Oh ... could I?" The boy said eagerly.
"Sure, help yourself, there's plenty." When he went to the kitchen, Marge had a thought. She went to the front door and pushed it closed, saying over her shoulder, "I guess you don't want your folks to see you drinking, right?"
"Yeah, gee, you'd think I was eight years old, the way they act. Other guys, they drink beer with their own dads, know what I mean?" He hesitated a moment and then said, blushing again, "Uh, would you like a cigarette?"
"Sure, why not?" Marge didn't smoke very often, but this seemed like one of the times to do it. She watched with amusement while Donald pulled a pack from his shirt pocket, under his sweater. She'd bet his parents didn't know about that, either! When he lighted her cigarette, his fingers trembled and she knew it was because of her nearness. He quickly sat back down and poured beer down his throat.
"Jeez, that tastes good."
"What's the trouble, Donald? You've never been over here before. At least, not in years."
"I know. I was just kinda walking around, and I saw your light. I mean, I saw you were alone too, and I just thought...." He couldn't finish the sentence but she knew what he meant.
"Two lonely people, huh."
"Well, I thought if you weren't busy, maybe we could talk a while." He puffed out a cloud of smoke. "I mean, you're not like the other adults around here. Anyhow, I don't think you are."
He was certainly a good-looking kid. Handsome strong features, wide shoulders, tanned forearms under his pushed-up sleeves. His hands looked big enough to ... whoa, girl! "Have a fight with your mother?"
"Her and him both. Damn it, they won't let me grow up! They think I'm still a baby!"
"You're no baby," Marge said, laughing. And she looked him over more carefully and decided she was right. He had really turned into a terrific guy! She squirmed in her chair and her pussy began to cream.
"If they only knew," he muttered.
"I bet. Go on, Donald, tell me about it."
While he talked, she let her eyes lick over his slim sturdy build. His eyes were dark blue, very serious at the moment. His hair was thick and glossy, down to his shoulders. She bet that was worth a fight a week in the Whitley household! Fran would have him in a crew cut if she could. He had a little fuzz on his chin, not much, but he probably had to shave a couple times a week, it wasn't enough for a beard yet.
His complaints were the usual ones, though he hinted at something more, something he didn't dare say. Frances and Guy wouldn't let him have the car very often, they wanted to know where he was going and when he'd be back, they thought he should get better grades, help his mother more around the house, get a job after school, think about his future. And so on, in boring detail.
But the kid needed somebody to talk to, every teenager did, boy or girl. Frances was afraid of his growing up, she wanted to hang onto her only son, to keep him under control. Marge nodded and frowned, made sympathetic remarks, but all the time her brain was repeating one thing over and over.
"Why not?" she said to herself. "Why not?"
She didn't let her mind go into it very deeply, not to the point of saying: why not what? She was half soused when he got there, and they finished a six-pack between them. Donald seemed to handle his beer well, though his cheeks turned rosy and his eyes sparkled as he talked.
Of course I wouldn't really ... why not?
"Donald, are you hungry?" she interrupted. "Why don't we sit in the kitchen and I'll fix you something to eat."
"Gosh, that'd be great!" He looked at her with his heart in his eyes. "You're so good to me, Missus Shervold. And gosh, but you sure are pretty!" he blurted out.
"Why, thank you."' She led the way, more than ever conscious of the eye-popping sway of her hips, and of his warmth so close behind her. "You just sit there at the table, Donald ... and by the way, please call me Marge. You don't need to be so formal."
"Gosh, thanks ... Marge."
He was beginning to get ideas, too, she could see it in his eyes. She found another cold six-pack and opened a couple. Of course, she wouldn't really do anything, would she? It would be dangerous ... but then, what wasn't....
She rummaged in the refrigerator and pulled out the rest of the chicken, and some banana bread, and some tomatoes to slice. Moving back and forth in the kitchen, she placed the plate of chicken in front of him, standing so close her boobs brushed on his shoulder. She saw him turn bright red, and then white with pleasant shock.
It was almost more than her overheated body could take! Resting a hand on his shoulder, feeling its heat through his clothing, she said, "It's a pleasure having you here. I was so lonely."
"Ohhhh," he said in a strangled chair. Scraping his chair back, the boy stood up. "I wish ... I wish I had a mother like you," he sobbed.
Horny as she was, she couldn't help herself! Her arms went around his waist and she looked into his eyes, on a level with her own. "If I'd ever had a son, I'd want him to be just like you," she assured him earnestly. Then she blinked and said, "But you are not my son, are you."
"No, I'm not." They stood frozen for a moment, the boy almost paralyzed with lust and fear. Then his arms went around her so they were doubly linked, her prominent tits pushing against his hard young chest.
"Oh God," Donald moaned. "You're so beautiful."
For a dizzy moment, Marge was no longer the thirty-eight-year-old housewife who'd protected her reputation so carefully. She was a young girl again, a girl with a boyfriend, feeling the pressure of her hot blood inside her, feeling the mysterious needs and longings that sent her spirits soaring up and down. She tilted her head back and waited for him to kiss her, not taking the lead as she'd thought she would, feeling tremulous and alive and eager.
His first kiss was soft and gentle, his closed lips firm and warm. His arms tugged at her, pulling her into their strong circle, her pussy tilted up against his pelvis. She couldn't stand it! Her hands went up around his neck, she kissed him back with a wet, half-open mouth, feeling the swell of his prick against her thigh.
It was a long kiss, and so sweet, all her defenses crumpled. She'd been aroused for so many aching hours, she'd fought off her own need and Stu's, and now she just couldn't fight any longer! Besides, in a cockeyed way the whole thing made sense to Marge. At the moment she couldn't just work out why it did, but then, she'd have time to think about that in the morning.
As for Donald, he couldn't believe he was actually experiencing lovemaking with a grown woman. Like every other boy his age, he dreamed about females constantly, about hips and tits and thighs and pussies, and warm delicious flesh to stroke and hold and kiss and suck. In some ways, ways that were due to surprise Marge, he was a very sophisticated young man. But as far as sex was concerned, he was rather uncertain. He'd kissed and made out a few times with girls from school, but they were unaccountably shy. He and his buddies often wished that the people who kept writing about the sexual revolution and the immoral youth of today would meet the girls from their high school!
All his dreaming and talking and wishing were a far cry from the reality of this warm armful of woman! Thoughts flashed through his head. She couldn't be scared and passive the way young girls were. She'd know what to do! At this incredible thought, he felt as if the top of his head were going to blow off! He grinned and squeezed her until Marge could hardly breathe.
She was a wife, an older woman, she was experienced! She'd really know what to do, how to do it!
If she only would....
"Oh, Missus Sher-Marge! Oh, I want ... I want...."
"I know what you want," she said huskily. "And it's exactly what I want, too!"
CHAPTER TWO
Even as they walked, arms around each other, from the kitchen down the hall toward the bedroom, Marge couldn't believe it was actually happening. After all the years she'd hung onto her "virtue", to lose it to a seventeen-year-old boy! But she simply couldn't resist him! His flesh was so smooth and young, his kisses so ardent, his admiration so irresistible! And besides, she was so horny she could hardly walk!
Donald was walking on a cloud. He wanted to pinch himself to be sure he wasn't dreaming, to know positively that he was leading for a bedroom, and a bed, with the most desirable beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life. He'd watched Marge through the years, as he became aware of sex, and all his friends had noticed her and speculated about her. "How'd you like to get your hands on THAT!" they'd say, and snicker.
The trouble was, not one of the fellows would ever believe him! Everybody knew that Marge Shervold didn't mess around, no matter how hot she looked, no matter how many months her husband was gone on sea duty. Even his mother had to admit she'd never heard a breath of scandal about Marge, and the dear lord knew she'd have loved it if she had!
Marge turned on the rose-shaded bed lamp and turned to look at Donald. "You know, you've got to promise me never to tell," she said.
"Shit, who'd believe me anyhow!" he blurted out, and then laughed nervously. "I understand, Marge, I swear, I'll never tell a soul."
"All right then." Her slow smile lighted up her face. "Then let's get ihese damn clothes off!"
Drunk as she was, it wasn't hard to act natural and eager. All the years in which she'd repressed her instincts were peeled away without regret. Turning, she smiled coquettishly over her shoulder. "How about unzipping me, sweetie?"
His fingers trembling, Donald pulled on the tiny zipper tab, and finally succeeded in opening the back of her dress. It fell away on either side. He focused his eyes on the white strap that bisected her smooth back, and fumbled with the hooks of her bra.
"Ahhhh," Marge sighed with relief as the constricting garment loosened, and slipped the straps down her shoulders. She turned to face him, naked to the waist, her enormous breasts bursting forth pale and luminous.
Donald was transfixed; he couldn't move-could hardly breathe! He'd never seen or imagined a set of knockers like hers! They were twice as big as they'd seemed under her clothes, and twenty times as gorgeous. The brownish-red nipples winked up at him, the satiny white skin seemed to call to his sweaty hands. He was afraid to make a move!
"Go ahead, touch me," she invited huskily.
Donald stroked one bulging tit, marveling at the soft yet resilient feel of it. Her tits stood upright, poking out from the billowy rounds. He blinked, sighed and blushed as he increased the pressure of his hands on her soft hot flesh. He gently squeezed and released the great doughy mounds, easing his thumbs over the big red nipples and rubbing them softly.
"Ahhhhh," she sighed, wriggling inside the remains of her clothes. "God, that makes me hot!" Her cunt spat out another flood of cream that she knew was soaking right through her panties into her skirt. As he rubbed his thumbs back and forth over her tits, keen sensations of pleasure rippled through her body.
"You've got the most beautiful tits in the world," Donald murmured.
It was just too much for Marge. She was trembling all over, her body jerking and thrusting itself at him. "Get your clothes off," she said harshly, her hands going to her own hips where the dress dangled. She shoved downward and in a moment she was standing there in nothing but a pair of blue lace panties, barely covering the protuberant mound of her hairy pussy.
Quickly Donald skinned his sweater and shirt off over his head and tossed them wildly. His sandals went flying. Without taking his eyes off her almost-naked, voluptuous body, he unzipped his jeans and pushed downward. She could see the huge bulge under his jockey shorts, and sucked her breath in sharply.
"Yes, oh, yessss," she whimpered. "Fuck me, Donald, I want you to fuck me!"
Her words set a fire going inside him. Donald pulled off his shorts, watching her face as his enormous young cock arched out and forward. He was gratified by the look of pleasure that hit her ecstatically glazed eyes and slack-mouthed face. She shoved her hands against her hips, pushing down the lace panties.
And then it was as if the beautiful horny woman exploded! He was almost shocked by the violence of her grasp as she threw her arms around him, kissing and sucking voraciously on her mouth. He pinched and played with her hard nipples as she mashed herself against him, all the while moaning in a sort of delirium. It seemed her body surrounded him, and her hands were everywhere at once! She was almost strangling him, and he loved it!
She bit his mouth and then opened her own lips, and he knew instinctively to thrust his tongue inside it. He was thrilled to the core with the deep-throated kiss and by the spasms of lustful energy that rippled through her body.
She pulled her wet mouth away from his just long enough to pant, "I want you, oh, how I want you!"
He hugged her until her bones were cracking! They fell backward on the bed, arms locked tightly around each other, mouths mashing and tonguing with hot squishing noises. Donald found himself lying on top of her, hugging her body and kissing her mouth, grinding his chest against her live tits as she thrust them up against him. She made a swift movement of her pelvis and then his hips were between her legs, her wet hairy pussy grinding and jerking up against his hard cock.
"Oh, oh! OOHHHHH!" He was going to cum at any minute and he didn't want to, not yet! But he couldn't force a single intelligible word out of his kissing mouth, couldn't get his hot young body under any sort of control. It was all just too marvelous and exciting, and he was almost out of his head with pleasure!
"Now, now, put it in me NOWWWW!" she shrieked.
Donald tried to turn their bodies around so he'd be on top. He thought that was the only way to do it, and he couldn't understand why she kept telling him to "put it in me" when she wouldn't cooperate.
But then he got one of the pleasanter surprises of his young life, when the older woman seized his hot aching prick in her hand and jammed it into the most deliciously warm slick tight place he'd ever dreamed of.
"Oh, Marge," he gasped. His hips thrust forward to stick his pecker in all the way, deep in that wonderfully receptive tunnel. He began to fuck, lying half on his side and half on top of her. He had no rhythm at all in the beginning, but she helped him find his pace. Her legs, soft yet spring-steel strong, wrapped around his spasmodically thrusting hips. With her own movements, she helped him jam his almost-bursting organ in and out of her grasping fiery cunt.
"Fuck me now, FUCK MEEEEE!" the woman howled.
Donald shoved in and out as hard as he could, panting and slobbering over her glowing flesh as he labored to drive his hot meat deep into the clutching capacious tunnel.
"That's it, oh good, give it to me, baby. Give it all you got! OWWWW! OWWWWW, I LOVE IT! LOVE YOUR COCK IN ME! FUCK ME, YOU SWEET KID, FUCK THE BEJAZUS OUT OF ME! OOOOOOHHHHHHH!"
His slim hips pumped convulsively, he clutched her shoulders for balance as she bounced steadily back at him. He knew it wouldn't be long now, he had to cum in a hurry but he hated to stop! He went on humping her like a stallion, smacking his belly loudly against hers, digging his big boyish prick deep into her, moving with the speed and force of a pile driver.
It was just exactly what Marge needed. He was rough and sometimes awkward, but she knew that was because of his inexperience. Anyhow, she loved it. How long had it been since she'd been with a man? With Henry, she meant, of course, and couldn't remember. Her husband hadn't been feeling very sexy the last time he was home.
She jerked her hips blissfully in time to his violent deep strokes, clawing his shoulders in her ecstasy, screaming her pleasure hoarsely. She even surprised herself, with her unrestrained behavior!
"Ah, ahhhh, RRROO WWFFFF!" Donald bellowed suddenly as the hot sperm shot down the length of his organ and exploded into her wet writhing cunt.
"Not yet, no-OOOOOOO! EEEEEEEEEEE!" Her orgasm caught her right in the middle of her whimpered complaint!
Donald pounded on with diminishing vigor as her slippery sheath contracted violently around his deep-sunk cock, squeezing it and milking it. A blissful expression spread over his red sweaty face and he finally sank onto the bed beside her.
"Woof! That was ... great," Donald said sleepily, his shrinking penis still inside her.
Marge was in ecstasy one moment-horrified with herself the next. She rolled away from him, feeling the limp dick slide across her thigh, and she stared at the boy. But he wasn't aware of anything wrong, he gave her a happy smile.
"That was the greatest moment of my entire life," he said, yawning. "Don't know why I'm so ... tired ... I just...." His eyelids closed, and he was asleep.
She had to smile at that. He was truly innocent, she thought, climbing out of bed and padding into the bathroom. He wasn't thinking about wrongdoing as she was, and he was right. What was it she'd read recently? Something to the effect that good was what you felt happy about after you'd done it, and evil, of course, was what you regretted. Well, she wasn't going to regret anything!
She showered and put on a filmy negligee, and went back into the bedroom. The boy still slept. She found his shirt on the floor and borrowed a cigarette from the pocket. She'd have to buy some to keep on hand for him-and for herself at these moments-and she noted the brand he bought.
Marge had a lot to think about.
But she also had a lot to look at. Donald lay sprawled across the bed, seeming even more handsome now that she had a chance to study his face. His skin was so fine and smooth, glowing with tan and with youthful vigor. His shoulders were broad, narrowing down to slim waist and hips. His small uncircumcised penis peeked out from a bush of brown curly hair. It was really delightful, wonderfully soft and silky. She had to touch it, pet it, and she curled her fingers around its moist heat.
Donald twitched without opening his eyes, his cock swelled somewhat in her hand, and she ran her fingers up and down it more boldly. Donald sighed. His cock, so soft and warm, jerked under her fingers and stiffened slightly.
"Ummmmm, that feels great," Donald murmured, his eyes opening.
She stroked it again and presently it began to twitch and grow hard under her touch, and soon it was standing straight up in his crotch, pointing at the bedroom ceiling. Licking her lips, Marge carefully drew back the wrinkled skin and uncovered the whole red jewel-bright head of his cock. She admired the gleaming moist flesh and the pinpoint dark hole at the very tip.
"What a handsome little fellow," she said, smiling.
"What do you mean, LITTLE?"
"Okay, he's enormous!" It swelled even more and she giggled, and added, "And that's the truth!"
She began to finger his rosy testicles, lightly -haired, limp and soft. They swelled up tight and fat under her teasing fingers. "Look, you're all hard again," she said.
"I'd like to stay like this forever," he said dreamily.
The hard hot length of cockflesh in her hand was strong and resilient, the robustly healthy knob pushing through the stretched foreskin, bursting with vitality. She thought it was the loveliest sight she'd ever seen. There was a light crust of dried semen on the outside of it and already fresh droplets of his sex juice oozed from the tiny hole.
"Can we do it again, Marge?" he asked anxiously.
"Something. We'll do something," she mumbled, hardly able to talk. Her heart was beating rapidly again, her cunt weeping its pungent cream.
She couldn't leave him in this condition, of course. Or herself. Her mouth watered juicily, and she sucked her full lips inward. "Ummmmmm," she sighed.
"Well, can we? I want to fuck you again!"
Instead of answering, she licked her lips again and pursed them, placing her mouth and tongue firmly against the bulging red knob of his prick. She tasted the oozings with her tonguetip, moaning quietly in the back of her throat.
"Holy shit," he breathed, his hips pushing forward at her, fingers closing in her hair.
Marge opened her mouth and slipped her softly sucking lips over the whole hot knob, tasting him thoroughly, kissing his cock with wet suction.
"Man, oh man," Donald said, slumping on the bed. "That's a blow job, isn't it? Is that what you're doing?"
"Almost," she said and chuckled. "That's only the beginning, sweetie."
"It felt so good, Marge. Please don't stop now! Ohhh!" Impulsively he leaned forward and put his arms around her. "God, I just love you so much!"
Touched by his boyishness, she looked up at him. "I love you, too, Donald. Would you like a real blow job?"
Teasingly, she licked his cock again, savoring the taste of his funky juices, feeling the heat from the tightly stretched white skin permeate her body.
"Please, please!" The boy tensed expectantly.
She put her hands on his naked hips, and her face into his sweaty crotch. Licking in a wide circle all around his loins, she tasted the salt of his perspiration and found it delicious. With one hand, she held the base of his cock lightly and gave him a wet tongue bath. Rolling her eyes up, she saw the look on his face. He looked agonized but she knew it was blissful pleasure, instead. The more her tongue lapped and circled him, the more his body trembled and quivered.
"Marge, Marge, I can't stand it," he moaned.
"Shall I stop then?" she teased, drawing back.
"No, of course not, you know I didn't mean that!" He caught her hair in his hands and pushed her head down again on his stiff rod.
Marge was delighted with his aggressive actions. Slowly and gently she sucked his hot meat right in her mouth. Instantly Donald went soaring high on the wings of pleasure.
"Oh, oh, you darling," he crooned, his fingers tangled in her hair, watching her pretty face as her cheeks hollowed and her glistening pink lips slid up and down over his cockshaft.
"Ummmm, tastes good," she whispered, freeing her mouth, sliding her cheek down the wet length of his dick. She blew her warm breath against his balls and then kissed them, sucking them into her mouth, nibbling gently with her white teeth.
The boy writhed in ecstasy as she went again with her mouth on his stiff rod, sucking it in, running her agile tongue around the bulbous head.
"I never dreamed ... I never knew...." Donald was too choked up to continue the sentence.
Delighting in the pleasure she was giving him, Marge became more inventive. She took the dick out of her mouth and licked it like a lollipop. Her tongue slurped all up and down the throbbing silky-hard length and around the ridge of the knob. The foreskin was drawn back to bare the head of his prick completely, giving her total access to his most sensitive part. Clear seminal fluid oozed continually from the head and she lapped it up greedily as it came. Sometimes she'd draw her head back and blow softly on his cock and balls, and even that sent him into a frenzy of pleasure.
"It feels so great I can hardly STAND it," he said.
She had it in her mouth again, sucking on the head while her hand gently massaged his cockshaft, coaxing out the semen from his firm balls. Her soft suction on the bulbous red head pushed him over the line.
"I'm cumming, I'm EXPLODING!" he shouted, "Oh jezuss, sweet jeeeezuss!"
His orgasmic thrashing nearly tore up the bed, and Marge watched in pleasure almost as great as his.
CHAPTER THREE
Marge was just getting out of the shower when she heard the back door open and then slam shut. She smiled to herself with a shiver of anticipation, and reached for her big bottle of cologne. She thought about hurrying down to meet Donald, and then stopped. Let him find her here, half dressed, warm and flushed from the shower. It would be ... intimate, and delightful.
She rubbed her hands sensuously down her naked body, patting the cologne into the swelling mounds of her hips, lifting first one heavy breast and then the other, to lightly scent them from her cupped hand.
It had been four days since the night she'd first given in to her perverted desires, and she'd grown happier and more contented every day. She and Donald thought about it, and discussed it, and finally hit on the idea of giving him a key to the back door. He could leave his own house and circle around through the alley, slip into her walled back yard and let himself in. The only dangerous part, as far as being caught was concerned, was when he paused at the garden gate and unlatched it. Then he was in the shadows of the trees, and even in daylight it was un-likely to be seen.
She began to pull on the black panties she'd bought especially that day, purposely not looking at the doorway so he could surprise her, but nothing happened. She cocked her head, sending her mass of lustrous hair swinging, and listened. What in the world was taking him so long? She could hear some faint noises from the direction of the kitchen; and finally, a soft tinkling and the pad of footsteps coming nearer.
She strolled slowly into her bedroom, acting as if she thought she were alone, and Donald stood in the door transfixed. He was almost on the verge of dropping the tray he carried, and the glasses jittered on it and clashed against each other.
Marge was bent over her dresser, opening a drawer, her bottom looming huge and beautiful.
She wore sheer black nylon panties that clung so tightly, he could see the luminous flesh beneath them, the big half moons of her buttocks stretching the tight fabric. Wisps of curly pussy hair stuck out against the whiteness of her thighs. She straightened up with something in her hand, moving a knee forward to close the drawer.
Reflected in the mirror, her full boobs pressed against the shiny black bra cups, stuffed to overflowing with tender woman flesh. Her eyes were shadowed by the lustrous hair falling over her forehead, but her full lips glistened half-open, a flash of white teeth showing. The whole curvaceous sweep of her body aroused the teenager so powerfully, he was frozen into place-all except the hard swell of his cock which began pushing against his clothes.
"Holy shit," he said reverently. "You get even more beautiful every time I see you!"
Marge turned to face him, pretending surprise. "Donald! I didn't know you were here." Suddenly she saw the tray he was carrying. "Here honey, put that down on the dresser. My God, where did you get that feast?"
The boy looked at it proudly. The big round tray held a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, stemmed glasses, little pots and cans of cheeses and other delicacies, crackers, even napkins.
"I felt like a celebration," he said, and added anxiously, "I hope you like champagne."
"Love it," she assured him, thinking that it was a teenager's idea of luxury, and she'd just as soon have a fifth of scotch. But she wasn't going to spoil his surprise.
"Oh, good," he said, relieved, and plucked the bottle from its bed of ice to show her the label. "Is that all right?"
Marge couldn't hide her surprise. "Sure, but it's expensive as hell. How did you ...?"
"Give me a kiss first and I'll tell you." His mouth was watering and the palms of his hands were sweaty. Every time he saw her, it was like a miracle all over again. He dreamed about her at night, thought about her all day long, and could hardly believe that this wonderful woman, so sweet and warm, would really be his.
Putting the tray down, he encircled her with his arms, breathing in the delicious scent of her warm flesh mingled with a sultry perfume. His hands ran up and down her body, feeling the softness and then the tight bands of her panties and bra. He looked down at the big mounds of her breasts, only partly covered with the taut black bra, her rising tits poking out delicately.
"Where's the kiss now?" she smiled.
Donald covered her mouth with his and let his tongue play in and out around her teeth and tongue. His rod stiffened even more and he slipped his face down to the curve of her shoulder, kissing her throat wetly. She shivered and stood still in his arms, little goose bumps rising on her skin. He thrilled with the knowledge of how he could affect her, and continued down her body, kissing the nylon-covered nipples, dipping his tongue into the little slit of her navel, kneeling in front of her so he could bury his face in the. warm dusky sweet-smelling valley of her crotch.
"You sweet ... sweetheart," Marge murmured. She'd been about to say, "You sweet boy," but she'd learned he resented that. He didn't like to think of himself as a boy ... even though that was what she loved most about him!
He pushed her panties down from behind, hooking his hands in her round buttocks, sliding the slippery fabric down her plump thighs and over her knees, and off her feet. She was writhing and wriggling, he could smell and see the pungent white cream seeping out of her curly-haired pussy.
Donald buried his nose in it, forcing her thighs apart with his hands. Marge shivered and shook as he worshipped her body with tongue and teeth and hands. He parted the puffy rosy lips with one hand, still hanging onto her huge tender ass with the other. The gleaming slick slit pushed out at his extended tongue, her warm thighs enveloped his head, his whole face was buried in the squishy wet cunt with its delightful tastes and textures and scents.
Marge stood as still as she could, straddle-legged, feeling ripples of pure sensation shake her pliant full body. Even if she'd taught him herself, she had to admit he was one helluva pussy man! He'd been hesitant at first, and she shivered anew as she remembered how she'd persuaded him.
They'd been lying on the big double bed, face to crotch in the sixty-nine position. Marge had sucked him off, given him her very best blow job, and he was languidly satisfied, unwilling to move. But she herself was almost full to bursting, her tits and pussy lips swollen, her cream pouring forth in a flood. She knew she had to arouse him first so she began licking his limp cock, cleaning off the last traces of semen, curling her hot tongue around the base and up to his limp balls.
"Wow, I'm getting a stiffie again," the boy said in a pleased voice, leaning up on his elbow. "This time we can fuck, huh, Marge?"
She shook her head, smiling, her hair flying.
"Not yet, my friend, not yet! I want to see you do something for me for a change...."
He hadn't wanted to, even though he didn't say so, but she knew. Still she waited, refusing to touch him again with her hands or tongue, spreading her legs invitingly open. And once Donald had tried it, had buried his face in her swampy crotch and licked up her pussy juice, his face screwed up as he delicately lapped, thinking he wasn't going to like it....
She had to smile remembering the look of pleased surprise when he turned his smeared face up for a moment. "Hey, this is super, Marge!" He hesitated and said, "What's that funny little bump, anyhow? You know, this-" and he licked her clitoris raspingly, while she shivered and moaned.
"That's ... my clit, my love bump," she said when she was able to talk. "Go on and kiss it, honey, put your mouth around it."
And he kissed it, and sucked it, and ran his tongue around it, and made her cum so explosively she thought she'd fly apart!
But she couldn't keep remembering, didn't need to, when his head was there, his nose and tongue buried in her open wet cunt!
She just couldn't stand it! He undressed quickly and she fell to her knees beside him and they sprawled on the carpet, face to face, touching and kissing through the whole lengths of their impassioned bodies. Donald reached behind her and fumbled for the clasp of her sexy black bra and she helped him loosen and remove it, so her gorgeous jugs flowed outward against his hard chest.
His cock slid in easily by now, her cunt kissing his prick just as her mouth feverishly kissed his mouth. Her big hips writhed sensuously on his, their legs were intertwined and his hard aching penis felt the soppy wetness and warmth of her squirming cunt.
"EEEEEKKKkKKK! URRRRRRR!" she shrilled, almost immediately. His cunt-kissing had brought her to the trigger point and her orgasm washed thrillingly through her.
"AARRGGHH! OH YOU DARLINNGGG, I'M CUMMINNNNGG!" he shouted too. Milky cum flooded and spat out of him as she ground her hot pussy against him, ground her mouth on his lips, ground both their writhing hips against the carpet. The intensity of their joy never seemed to lessen, no matter how many times they came! They flowed together endlessly, miraculously, floating, dipping, soaring. He could feel every tremor of her cum, every little spasm, just as she could feel the hot splattering of his semen inside her quivering vagina.
Finally Donald elbowed up and looked at her flushed happy face. Awed, he said, "How can it just keep getting better and better?"
"Phewww! I dunno, sweetie, it just does." She made a little face then and said, "Wow, I've got the ole cotton mouth. Did you bring that wine for us to drink, or just to look at!"
Donald laughed boyishly and leaped to his feet. "At your service, Madame!"
Marge got up, too, and wiped herself off with a towel while she watched him. To her surprise, he opened the bottle like a pro, thumbs firmly loosening the cork on all sides. It gave a little pop, as it should, but the cork didn't fly wildly across the room. And Donald had a napkin ready, and a long-stemmed glass to catch the first bubbling spurt of champagne.
"Where'd the glasses come from," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and accepting the drink he solemnly handed her. "I didn't think I had any champagne glasses."
"I bought them ... along with the other stuff, from Central Liquor." He held out his glass to tinkle against hers. "Here's to the most beautiful woman in the world!"
"Oh, hey, then I can't drink, if you're toasting me," she laughed. "Let's drink instead to ... to life, sex, and happiness!"
"Who could argue with that!"
She discovered the champagne tasted better than she expected. Well, she and Henry didn't often drink the expensive kind! Which made her wonder again, especially when Donald handed her a round cracker piled high with caviar, black and glistening.
"Such tastes you have for a...." No, she mustn't say boy! "C'mon, Donald, cop out! Don't tell me your folks drink champagne and eat caviar! Did they get this for something special? You're gonna get in trouble!"
His face took on a mischievous look. "It doesn't come from home, Marge, or not exactly."
"You've been raiding the O Club?" She frowned.
"No way! It all came from Central Liquor."
"But they won't sell you this, I mean the food maybe, but not the booze."
"If you'll keep quiet for a moment, I'll tell you!" He took a slow deliberate sip of his champagne, but he couldn't keep the gleeful smile off his face.
"Tell!"
"Okay, okay! Ma and Pa went out tonight, I was the only one home. So I phoned Central in my deepest voice ... said, 'This is Clarence Whitley! Please send me ... ' And then I read them the list. I'd already been in the store and checked out exactly what I wanted."
"And they delivered it to you?" she asked doubtfully.
"Not really. I left a note on the screen door, an envelope with the money in it. I wrote that I had to go away unexpectedly but would be right back, and would they please leave the packages on the porch and keep the change. There was an extra five dollars and you can just bet the delivery boy wasn't about to turn it down."
They laughed together and drank more champagne, and fondled each other lovingly. Something was still bothering Marge, but she was too befuddled with love and sex and wine to work out what it was. By the time they finished the first bottle, they were both definitely high, gay and giggly and walking about a foot off the ground.
"That's it, I'm afraid," Marge said regretfully, tilting the bottle upside down and shaking it.
"Another bottle? Coming right up!" With a bow and a flourish, Donald wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for the kitchen. Puzzled, Marge followed him.
"WHA-AT THE HELL!? Donald, what is going on here?"
Marge stood in the kitchen doorway, clutching the doorframe, her jaw dropping. There on the kitchen table stood a cardboard carton. She counted two bottles of scotch-an expensive brand. Two of Canadian Club. Mixers of every description. More high-priced little jars and cans. A carton of cigarettes. The rest of the six-pack of champagne glasses. She calculated rapidly: ten, twenty, fifty, sixty ... at least eighty-five dollars right there!
"And here," Donald said, throwing open the refrigerator door. Four more bottles of champagne nestled together, on their sides.
Hands on hips, she stared at him. "You've got some explaining to do, my friend. You didn't get the dough for this delivering the morning paper!"
Donald, who'd brought their glasses with him, filled them from a bottle he opened as expertly as the last. "Let's sit in the living room," he suggested. "Are the drapes closed?"
She nodded dumbly. "Just a minute." For some reason, she felt funny being naked in the living room, even though nobody could see in. She grabbed a filmy negligee from her bedroom closet, not even seeing the tangle of sheets and the clothes scattered across the floor. Her mind was spinning, and the champagne buzz didn't help any.
Nor did Donald's loving arms, greeting her in the living room. "Don't look so serious, Marge, I can't stand it when you're cross," he said childishly, hugging her until her bones cracked.
"But, Donald, I have to know what you're up to! Are you going to get into trouble?"
"Here." He thrust her brimming glass into her hand. "No, of course not. But I can't tell you...."
"You've got to! Where is all this money coming from? Do your parents know you've got it?"
He chose to answer the last question only. "No, of course they don't, and it's maddening! That's really why I splurged like this, because I don't get a chance to spend any."
"But, Donald-"
"Wait'll next year when I'm eighteen," he said dreamily. "I can split from home then, and they can't bring me back. Oh, Marge, maybe you'll come and live with me! Or stay sometimes, anyhow. I've got my eye on a really neat apartment. It's one of those luxury buildings, you know? Swimming pool, sauna, tennis courts. I can hardly wait!"
She stared at him, dumbfounded. Where had the shy little neighbor boy gone? Who was this, and what in the name of heaven was he up to? Visions of armed robberies, burglars, bank robbers, flitted through her mind. And immediately on the heels of these thoughts came another one; was she in trouble too? When the police picked him up and grilled him, would he tell about her? She could see the headlines: Navy Officer's Wife Involved in Bank Robbery. How they would gossip at the Officer's Club! Henry would ... Henry would fuckin' kill her!
"Donald. You've got to tell me." She pushed herself away, suddenly cold and sober.
He shook his head. "I promised, Marge. Besides, you ... you wouldn't approve. I don't think you would, anyhow."
"That doesn't matter. I'm involved somehow, I know it! Don, I insist, you must tell. You certainly know you can trust me. Look what you could do to me, if you told about us! We can trust each other, if only because we have to!"
He nodded. "That's right, I hadn't thought about that. The other guys will just have to understand." He moved away from her, saying, "Just sit still a moment, you'll see," and he headed for the bedroom.
Marge found a chair, luckily, because her knees were folding under her. What was he getting in the bedroom? Had he hidden some of his loot there? She was afraid suddenly, her teeth began to chatter.
CHAPTER FOUR
When Donald sauntered back into the living room, still wrapped in his towel-sarong, casually smoking a cigarette, Marge's fear and worry exploded into anger.
"Damn you, Donald," she shrieked. "Here we are discussing the most important thing in your life-whatever it is! And you have to have time out for asmoke!"
Her anger and scream didn't bother him, didn't even seem to touch him. "Have a drag," he said, holding the cigarette to her lips. His eyes were serene, his lips curled up at the corners.
"Don't be ridiculous." She waived it away, wondering what the strange odor was. "You're trying to make a fool out of me, I know it!" And she burst into noisy sobs.
Her tears at least penetrated his rosy fog, and he hurried to kneel beside her and stroke her knee, thrusting the filmy robe aside. "Marge, don't! Please don't cry!"
"I can't help it." She brushed at her tears, and looked at him again. "Donald, you've simply got to trust me. Tell me what is going on, and let me help. I won't preach at you, I promise, but I've got to know where you're getting so much money."
"All right," he sighed. "Just ... here, take a drag first."
She gave in to his insistence, hardly noticing as he put the white tube to her mouth. She'd been fighting the nicotine habit all over again the past few days, since he'd been around and smoking. But she did have to admit it helped when you were upset and nervous.
Donald held it to her lips again and she took a drag. And inhaled.
And coughed! And gasped for breath! And coughed until her eyes watered and she grew dizzy!
"My God, Donald," she said finally, to the worried boy who was patting her back. "What the hell was in that?"
And then she knew. He didn't have to tell her; she knew.
"Pot. Marijuana," she said.
"Yep." He nodded, and added, "Grass, we call it. Or weed."
"My God, I smoked pot! Donald, how could you do that to me?" She waited, almost holding her breath, while he watched. Finally she reported, "That's funny, I don't feel a thing. What's supposed to happen, anyway?"
"Nothing much," he said. "Wait awhile." He grinned secretly, and added, "It'll just make you feel good and happy, Marge. It's the very best Colombian weed."
"Happy?" She leaned back in the chair, feeling a pleasant lassitude, like water flowing over her gently. "You rat, you just did that to change the subject, didn't you? To get me off the subject of your rotten illegal money."
"Marge, listen to me." He leaned forward and looked into her eyes, and she thought she might drown in their cool depths. "Marge, that IS the subject. Grass. It's where the money is, it's what all the kids in Coronado are into. It bought our champagne and it's going to buy my freedom next year."
Marge tried to think about what he was saying but she could only think about how beautiful his eyes were. "You're just a baby," she said thoughtlessly. "What do you mean by freedom."
But he wasn't offended, for a wonder. He laughed, and said in a slow dreamy way, "And I'll do just exactly what I want to do all day long ... and stay up as late as I want...."
Marge stroked his smooth downy cheek. "What did you say this is, Columbus pot?"
"Colombian." He laughed. "Feel anything yet? You like it, don't you."
"Ummm." She wrapped her arms suddenly around his neck. He was still kneeling beside her chair, and she stroked his back and shoulders, and ran her fingers through his long mop of hair. Boys with long hair weren't so bad after all. She thought. She kissed his forehead and cheeks and eyelids fervently, feeling a warm stirring in her twat where the juices began to flow again.
There was something she had to worry about; now what was it? Oh yes, Donald was doing something illegal and making entirely too much money from it. She realized that it wasn't only fear of what he might be doing, that he could get into trouble over. She also didn't want him to have enough money to be independent. At least she and his mother had one thing in common! The idea made her giggle.
"Now you'll have to meet my friends," he said. Now that you know all about it."
"All about what? Donald, let's lie down on the floor."
"Yeah! Let's fuck!" He said happily. He'd heard over and over again from the other fellows how super it was to have sex when you were stoned. He was the youngest in his group, and he'd wondered when he'd ever find out if anything they said was true. Not that the other guys were very old, just seventeen and eighteen. But they all seemed to have a lot more experience than he did, or at least they said so.
Wait till he could tell them about his experiences!
Marge flopped out of the chair and landed on her belly on the plushy carpet. She spread her arms and legs out, as if she were swimming, and began to laugh at the sensation. She could feel his hand stroking the big globes of her ass, and it felt good, but she didn't want to turn over. Too much trouble, she thought.
"C'mon, Marge, I wanna fuck," Donald whined, tugging at her. He pulled the pale pink negligee up around her waist, and discovered he was absolutely fascinated with the white buoyant flesh of her behind. He put his hands under her hips and managed to raise her ass a few inches from the floor, but there she stayed.
Well, he could get her going again, he thought confidently. He knew by now how to turn her on! So he bent over her from the rear, staring at her fanny and the deep crack between its snowy white buns. He went forward on his knees, pulling her thighs apart so he could reach under and play with her clit and her pussylips. But when she waggled her hips at him, he couldn't resist putting his mouth on one of those creamy mounds. He bit her, gently yet firmly enough to sting, loving the taste of her flesh in his mouth and the funky odor that wafted into his nostrils. He kissed the hurt away, and kissed her again. With his hands on her hips he pulled her back, tasting her smooth buttocks with his lips and tongue. A pang shot through him and he forgot his original aim, caught up in the delicious flesh presented to him. He began kissing her right in the dimple at the top of her ass, moving down slowly into the deep cleft, turning his head from side to side to spread his kisses over every perfect inch of her.
Marge was caught up in the perverted eroticism too, loving the thrills that shot through her from his hot wet lips and tongue. She propped herself on her elbows, breathing deeply, slightly altering the angle of her bottom curves for him. She could feel his tongue slip into the valley between her buns and a wicked spasm of delight swept over her.
"Oooo, that's bad," she cooed. "Bad, bad boy, Donald."
He laughed and the puff of his warm breath into the crack of her ass excited her even more, and she began to wriggle uncontrollably.
"What a beautiful ass you've got, Marge," he said, and slipped his tongue down farther in the crack, pulling her asscheeks apart with his hands.
"Shit, I've never felt anything like this before," she said breathlessly. She edged her elbows outward, her hands inward so she could cup her own erect tits on the palms of her hands. She wondered if it could possibly be that one lungful of marijuana smoke which made her feel so wild and reckless, or whether it was just something she'd been building up to all week. She'd heard of assfucking, of course, who hadn't? But nobody had ever told her of the thrill a woman could get from having her buttocks kissed and played with like this!
Donald was totally captivated with the beauty of her big white ass. Its smoothness and softness were beyond belief! He'd forgotten all about his search for her pussy, and he inhaled the pungent scent of her and licked the bare white flesh.
Her purrings and sighs and the little rolling movements of her hips told him she was enjoying it too, and that thrilled him even more. He concentrated on her ass, focused in on it, moving his sucking wet lips over the globular cheeks, sliding his tongue up and down the deepening crack.
He moved far enough down it that it was too deep, he couldn't reach the bottom of it with his tongue. Yet the farther in he got, the warmer and sweeter it was. He spread the swelling mounds even wider with his thumbs.
"Oh, Donald," she sighed. "I don't know ... this is so wicked!"
He ignored her, feeling she didn't really mean it anyway, and spread her buttocks just as far apart as they would go. When he saw her anus a thrill of discovery shot through him. It wasn't dirty-looking at all, it was more like a tightly puckered little mouth. It's all pursed up for kissing, he thought, and a wave of hot lust kicked him in the belly. It looked soft and nice and kissable!
So he kissed it! He wet his lips and planted them on her asshole in a great smacking kiss. That was so good, he went farther and poked his tongue at the rubbery little opening. Saliva dripped from his tongue as he tried to French her butthole, and succeeded in penetrating the tight ring of muscle a little ways.
"DONALD!" she shouted, now alarmed and yet unaccountably not moving, not pulling away or trying to stop him. "Donald, that's going too far," she moaned.
Then as his stiff tonguetip continued to press on the dark anal mouth, her sphincter muscles suddenly relaxed and his tongue shot deeper into her hole. He felt the softness of her buttocks against his cheeks, and the tight clutch of her asshole around his curled stiff tongue.
"Oh, oh, ohhhhh," she moaned and reached back for him, letting her body fall forward so her huge knockers bounced off the carpet. Her knees were spread lewdly apart and she managed to reach under her pussy and touch his smooth face.
Donald jerked back a moment, away from what he thought was interference; but she only wanted to touch him in love and in gratitude. "Nobody ever ... Henry wouldn't ... oh, OOHHHHHHH!" she whimpered, unable to complete a thought, much less a sentence.
Donald took a deep breath and returned to the sweet attack, covering her whole upturned ass with kisses. He probed deep in her asshole while she sighed and moaned and purred and squirmed, her hips flailing wildly. Again he bit the fattest part of her asscheek with his teeth.
In a frenzy, Marge rolled completely over and he immediately put his face into her swampy crotch. "Do you love me, Marge?" he whispered, his hot breath tickling her inner tissues.
"Yes, oh yes," she sighed. "I do love you, Donald."
"Then you don't mind about my smuggling weed."
"Huh?"
"It's not really a crime, you know. I mean, it's better for you than booze, it doesn't destroy your liver or anything like that. All the kids are into it."
"Oh, shit." Marge was right back where she'd been when the idea first penetrated her foggy mind. She didn't want to know about it, to think about it, or have anything to do with it. Her precious Donald, sixteen years old, was a criminal! And she was, too, just for having innocently accepted what she thought was a drag on a cigarette!
"Damn it all!" She switched her head from side to side, her blond hair flying, and then despairingly rolled over again, burying her face in her arms. "Don't tell me about it, honey," she moaned.
Donald sat back on his heels, amazed and frustrated. How could Marge be like that, like all the other adults in the world! Pouting and spiteful, he slapped her fat white ass, admiring the way the white globes quivered.
"You're just like my mother," he said angrily, and slapped her again.
His words stung, and she was ready to do or say almost anything to make him take them back. And also, his slaps had reawakened the lust in her churning vagina. Ignoring their argument, she raised her head and looked seductively over her shoulder. A wild inspiration had come to her.
"Donald, I'm sorry," she said huskily. "But never mind it now. Honey, I want you to fuck me ... there. In my asshole."
"Huh?" He'd heard of that, of course, but always in a way which was sniggering and dirty, nasty. But it hadn't seemed nasty when he put his mouth on it, had it?
"Please, Donald. I've never done it before, and ... I loved it when you -rimmed me, didn't you?"
"Rimmed? Was that what it's called?" The more he thought about it, the more devilishly delightful the idea seemed. His cock, which had dropped sadly at her attitude, began to raise its head again, the red fist pushing through the foreskin, semen oozing from the pinpoint hole. Donald placed the throbbing cockhead between her buns, pushing heavily at her little anal opening. It really didn't seem possible! He shoved forward, and then grabbed her hips to give himself leverage. He pulled her bottom up into the air and blunted his cockshead on the tight muscle ring.
"Let me in, Marge," he pleaded, not knowing if that was possible or not. "I can't get it in!"
She'd only been half serious but now the thrill of the pressure on her anus excited her to a frenzy. Her brown eyes grew big with excitement and she wriggled her body, shoving back at him. Taking a deep breath, she tried to concentrate on loosening the firm muscles which denied him entrance to her shit chute. And it worked, it worked! She could feel the penetration, maybe only half an inch, but definitely, he was entering her asshole with his hot meat!
"IT'S IN; I'M IN, OH JEEZZUSS!" the boy moaned. He'd never felt or even imagined anything like the tightness and warmth that surrounded his swollen cockshead, the delicious pressure. His face turning scarlet, he labored and shoved deeper. Globules of sweat sprang out on his face and dropped stingingly on her naked buttocks. He corkscrewed his way deeper and deeper, until almost all his hard white shaft was buried in her bowels.
"OH NOOOOOO! STOP IT, DONALD, IT HURRTTSS!" Marge screamed in agony as the fat rod penetrated deep inside, stretching and almost tearing her delicate inner tissues, forcing its way into a passage never meant for that.
The boy didn't even hear her, he was so concentrated on the feelings he was experiencing. Blind and deaf with lust, he moved forward inexorably, plunging into her asshole with all his young vigor, thrilled beyond measure by the delicious wet warmth, the tight grip on his moving dick. His hands dug into her hips, leaving white imprints on the tender flesh. He panted and moaned, his balls swollen almost to bursting, his heart pounding with fantastic pleasure.
Marge wriggled and shoved by every move only impaled her more firmly, and then she began to wriggle in ecstasy instead of fear and pain. A warmth grew in her belly, her pussy-lips swelled fatly, cream dripped from her cunt and splashed to the carpet. It wasn't so bad, really ... in fact, it was beginning to feel very good indeed!
She cried out in ecstatic delirium while he began to saw his way in and out of the tight butthole, fucking her with growing speed and ease. The tender passage had eased just enough to let him move in and out, and the heat and sharp pleasure were incredible.
"Yes, oh yesssss," she moaned. Tremendous feelings swept and surged through her entire body, delicious tremors that awed her with their power. She butted back at him, meeting his stroke, painfully yet deliciously joining in his ravishment.
"Oh-h-h-h, A-H-H-H, UHHHHHHHHHH!" To her intense surprise, a devastating orgasm swept over her. She shivered and shook so hard her teeth rattled together!
"Darling, darling, darling," she moaned, sinking toward the carpet. But Donald wasn't finished yet, nowhere near! And when he continued to fuck into her butt she felt that gathering up, the tensing of every muscle, that told her she was about to cum again. And she did! In another long wracking spasm of pleasure that almost seemed like pain in its intensity.
"I'm cumming again, CUMMMINNNGGG! EEEEEEEEEEE!" she roared.
"Yeah, yeah," he chanted, a glazed expression creeping over his face. He could feel the pooled semen in his firm balls begin to move, shooting the length of his fast-moving pecker, finally exploding white hot into her tight anus.
"OWWWWWWWW! AAARRGGGHHHHH!" He felt as if his whole guts were spewing out, as if he were caught in a wave that tumbled him over and over and wouldn't let him go. The boy fell forward on her sweat-wet back while his hot jism jolted into her. He clutched her satiny flesh as if it were a lifesaver thrown to a drowning man. His heart pounded so loudly he could hear it even over the rough panting of his breath.
"Wasn't that something?" he said a few moments later, lying next to Marge on the carpet, his arms around her, their legs intertwined.
"Fantastic," she sighed.
"And the grass did help, uh, made it all even better, didn't it," he insisted.
"Ye-esss. I guess it did," she said reluctantly. She really didn't know if it had or not, but she was ready to agree to anything he said. Or do anything at all in the world he wanted!
"I'm going to get us something to drink," Donald said, and added firmly, "And then I'm going to tell you all about it! And this time you'll listen!"
"Yes, Donald," the woman said meekly. How could she resist? How could she ever say no to the one person in the world who could make her happy and fulfilled? Her eyes lingered on his strong young body as he headed for the kitchen; she felt a sense of loss because he was gone, even if it were only for five minutes!
When he came back and told her all about his illegal activities, and how much fun they were, and how much money the boys were making, she listened and nodded in agreement. She even smoked another "doobie" as he called it, sharing with him, loving it if only because his lips had touched the same white tube of cigarette paper.
She wasn't sure if she liked it, or how it made her feel. But she was sure, goddam sure, of the way Donald made her feel! And she'd do anything at all to keep it that way, and not to lose him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Marge read a page in a magazine, and then put it down. She walked aimlessly around the living room, into the kitchen, looked into the refrigerator, and closed the door. She wasn't hungry. She didn't want to read. She didn't want to look at TV. In fact, she was bored.
C'mon, girl, she mocked herself. You can't get through one whole evening alone? Think of all the thousands of evenings you managed to get through before you ever met Donald!
The truth was, she was spoiled.
Donald managed to sneak over for an hour, maybe only fifteen minutes, just about every day. They didn't always fuck, or play their sex games, she thought, defending herself to herself. But he was good company, something to brighten up her lonely days, something to look forward to.
But of course, aside from the time he had to spend with his parents, he couldn't neglect all his friends, either. She wouldn't want him to. And just because he had to go meet his buddies, the ones he knew through smuggling ... well, she wasn't going to think about that! Anyhow, she could certainly get through one night without her darling Donald!
He was a bad boy to be doing illegal things, smoking pot even, much less smuggling it into the country, and selling it. But that didn't worry her as much as the danger. If anything happened to that boy, she didn't know what she'd do! He'd told her about a kid he knew, who got caught by the Mexicans and had to spend seven months in a filthy Mexican jail, before his folks could get up the money to buy his parole. It couldn't, it just couldn't happen to Donald!
She tried to get her mind on a different track. Stu had phoned earlier, wondering why she hadn't showed up at the Officer's Club lately. He felt guilty, wondered if it was because of the way he'd tried to seduce her that night. And she had trouble even remembering what had happened. She supposed the smart thing would be to make an appearance, have a few drinks, leave early. She certainly didn't want any of Henry's friends to get suspicious, and come around to see what was going on!
But she really couldn't face the dull scene at the O club. Donald had shown her a whole new way of life. She wasn't entirely certain she liked it, but she was going along with it ... for the moment. She just about had to, the way her body worked on her mind, like right this very minute! She was hot and horny, just as if she hadn't gotten screwed to exhaustion the night before....
Which reminded her of Donald's little "present". Maybe she should try it, while she was alone, and not confused by his compelling masculine presence. She still had never been able to decide if she liked pot, or even if it had any effect on her. The feelings she got probably came just from being around her sixteen-year-old lover.
She went back to the bedroom and burrowed under her lingerie in a dresser drawer. She'd hidden the little package and felt guilty just bringing it out. But what the hell, she might as well try it and find out.
Sitting on the bed, she carefully opened the aluminum foil and exposed four thin hand-rolled cigarettes. Donald of course had bragged about how good he could roll, and promised to demonstrate, show her how to do her own. Marge knew she'd never go that far. She also knew that it pleased the boy to give these to her, particularly because the pot, so he said, was something special.
She held one awkwardly, licking the length of it as he'd shown her, dampening the paper so it wouldn't burn too quickly. Then she touched a lighted match to the tip, and gingerly drew in a mouthful of smoke. She breathed air in with it, and held it, until her face turned red.
Marge smoked a good inch before the coughing caught up with her, and made her stop. Then she lay back on the bed, waiting for something to happen. And it seemed as if nothing would.
After a while she got up and wandered through the house, no longer restless, indeed strangely content. Her living room looked different, somehow. She straightened pictures and plumped up the pillows on the sofa. She drank a couple of beers, because her mouth was so dry. She began to believe she did feel different, exhilarated and happy.
All of a sudden she had to pee, in the worst way! She ran back an pulled her panties down, lowering herself onto the cold white wooden seat. The urine poured out of her, splashing and clattering in the bowl. The relief was enormous! She thought she'd never stop!
She heard a noise in the house somewhere, but there was no way she could stop peeing long enough to investigate. Hope flared in her. Maybe it was Donald, after all! It had to be him, because nobody else had a key! And he was going to catch her sitting on the John ... she giggled at the thought.
"There you are," he grinned. He'd smelled the sweet odor of grass as soon as he entered the house, and checked her flushed smiling face. God, she was-stoned! Well, so was he!
At the sight of her on the toilet, legs obscenely spread while the yellow liquid steamed into the bowl, he felt a sudden surge of sexuality. He looked down and noticed the bulge beneath his jeans. Shit, he got a hard-on just looking at her!
"Sorry, but I just can't quit going," Marge smiled.
"And I just can't quit ... that," he answered, pointing to his crotch.
Marge leaned forward on the stool. "That must be uncomfortable, darling," she cooed. "Let the poor fellow out."
Her fingers reached for the zipper and he moved in closer, so she could reach it. He heard noises behind him, he knew what was happening. Marge was vaguely aware of sound too, but she was too stoned, too involved in the lascivious moment to wonder about it. She tugged at his zipper and reached inside his pants to free the huge hard cock.
"There's only one problem," Donald grinned. "I have to pee, too."
"No problem." She smirked, and spread her knees far apart. "Be my guest."
He held his dick in his hands and aimed it between her legs, his odorous yellow urine clattering into the bowl, splashing up onto her soft thighs, mingling with her pee, too. Marge had a moment of sanity in which she wondered what in hell she was doing. Talk about obscene, this was really the ultimate! Her water slowed and tinkled out in short spurts as she began to wish she was anywhere else, doing anything but what she was doing.
Donald saw the changing expressions on her face, but he was too sexually involved to let her get away with it. Besides, he'd done a certain amount of bragging to his friends, and what was happening now surpassed anything he'd said, and he loved it.
He hadn't expected this, of course. He hadn't expected finding Marge stoned, in fact he was surprised she'd even tried the dynamite grass he'd left with her. Surprised, but more than happy!
He'd had a rough couple of hours with his friends, and Marge's actions now were healing his wounds, justifying everything he'd said about her. In spite of his promises, he'd just had to tell his close circle about the fantastic lovemaking he was getting. They all knew Mrs. Shervold, at least by sight and reputation, and not one of the kids believed a word of it! There are no secrets in a town as small as Coronado. The Navy wives in general had reputations, deserved or not; and only Marge was known to be true to her husband, no matter how many months or years he spent at sea or out of the country.
And when he bragged about fucking her, and admitted he'd let out their secret to her, all four of his friends rained on him.
"You asshole," Joey said disgustedly. "She's one of Them, one of the Establishment. She may shine you on for a while, but sure as fate, she'll burn you! She'll turn you in, I know it!"
Donald grew heated defending his lover, and convincing them all that he'd been telling the truth. He finally pulled the key from his jeans and flourished it. "How the fuck do you think I got a key to her back door, if we aren't making it?" he demanded.
"So you've got a key," Suzi said, and yawned. "What's that mean?"
"You come with me, and I'll show you what it means," Donald promised recklessly.
In his heart he knew Marge would be furious if he brought the other kids over, and let them in with his key. In the first place she was really paranoid about having people find out about them. And also, she was afraid of the marijuana connection, she didn't want any part of it. She'd only tried it once, and that was by accident. She had the same attitude all the grownups had, that it was wicked and dangerous and would lead them all directly to getting hooked on the hard stuff, like heroin. Donald knew none of that was so, but he also knew he hadn't convinced Marge, not at all.
Still, it was too late to back out. His friends had called his bluff, and he had to go through with it. He was in the shit with them already, and he'd soon be ass-deep in shit with Marge. It was a very unhappy boy who let the five of them in the back yard gate and into the house. Mentally rehearsing what he'd say to Marge, how he'd convince her that no harm would come to her from this unwanted exposure, he left the four in the kitchen while he tiptoed through the house looking for her.
And, of all the lucky strokes, he found her stoned out of her head! Sitting on the toilet and giggling, her delectable pussy all exposed! And grabbing for his cock like it was chocolate candy!
So when he heard the sounds which told him his buddies were following him, were in fact in the hall that minute watching, he put on a bolder swagger. He peed straight between her legs, knowing he was splashing her, knowing she couldn't care less. And knowing this exhibition would convince everybody, and get him off the hook!
He finally finished pissing, and Marge still sat there on her throne, legs spread wantonly as she reached for his softening rod. "Let's make him all nice and hard again," she cooed.
Donald heard a gasp behind him, and tried to cover it by speaking quickly. "Yeah, baby, suck it a little bit," he said.
Her hands flew to his cockshaft and she fondled it, stroking the sensitive skin, while she hummed a tone in the back of her throat. She cradled the emerging knob in the palm of her hand and blew on it softly, warmly, and then pushed back on the foreskin. The velvety moist head delighted her as it always did, and she dipped her face to lick quickly at the clear drop of semen standing out on it.
"Yeah, yeah," Donald grunted, forgetting he was only doing this for a reason. He hunched his hips forward, shoving his stiff rod up at her face and she opened her luscious lips and sucked it in.
"UUUHHHHHHHH!" someone gasped, and the boy wasn't even sure if it was him or not.
He stared at the beautiful lewd woman, totally under the spell of her lips and her hands. She was wearing a loose halter that let her boobs flow almost free. Her skirt was pushed up around her hips, and her panties had come off her feet and fallen to the tiled floor. The roundness of her white thighs, the glistening curls of her bush, were the prettiest sight he'd ever seen.
"Suck it harder," he said hoarsely. "Suck it, Marge baby!"
Her cheeks caved in with her intense sucking, and she made small whimpering sounds in her throat in her need to please him. Her tongue swished all over his cockhead and she bobbed her head up and down on it. Tension built up in both their bodies, until every muscle was taut and straining. His chin trembled and he licked his dry lips, while his hips fucked back and forth, shoving his cock deep into her straining throat.
"Make me cum, Marge, make me shoot it out! IN YOUR MOUTH, OH YOU DARLING, MAKE ME CUM IN YOUR MOUTH!!" Just as he cried out, he felt it all burst out. The salty acrid stuff spurted and jetted into her mouth and throat, brimming over her pretty lips. She swallowed desperately, eager to take it all inside her, her cheeks hollowing and her throat working as she milked him dry.
And at the same time, Marge herself felt the delicious tension of impending orgasm. She writhed on the toilet seat, holding onto his prick with both hands, and felt the rush of her climax. Wordlessly she shouted and the vibration of her throat intensified the excitement of his orgasm until Donald finally had to sink to his knees, panting and moaning. She mewled a little bit when the shrinking dick slid out of her white-stained lips, and then subsided, slumping back. Donald laid his head on her thigh, unable to move or talk or even think, until his heart stopped its furious pounding.
"Holy shit!" a voice said.
"He wasn't just shining us on, was he!"
"I never did see anything like that in my life. It was ... man it was fucking beautiful," someone else said in a reverent tone of voice.
"She is a WOMAN," piped up a little-girl voice.
Marge's eyes flew open. "Donald," she said in a trembling quaver, "it's the pot. The grass. I'm hearing voices."
His face turned red. "Uh, Marge, I, uh...."
She stared at him. "You don't mean ... I am hearing voices, right? There isn't really anybody there. There can't be!" She took a deep breath and pleaded, "Donald, tell me it isn't so! Nobody is there, nobody saw us. DONNALLDDD!"
The enormity of what he'd done, of what he'd subjected her to, flooded over him. She stared at his telltale face and knew that her worst fears were coming true.
"DONALD! WHO THE FUCK IS OUT THERE?"
"It's all right, Marge, honest! They won't tell, it's just my friends, it's all right. Believe me, please believe me," he said in a hollow voice.
"OH, MY GOD! I THINK I'LL DIE! I WANT TO DIE!" She covered her face with her hands and began to sob. "How could you do this to me, you betrayed, how could you," she whimpered.
"Marge, don't be mad, please don't be mad."
"OH I HATE YOU!" She leaped off the toilet and brushed past him, running into her bedroom. She slammed the door, realizing she'd caught sight of several kids in the hall, standing there motionlessly. "OH! OH! OH!" She threw herself down on the bed and began to cry in earnest, the sobs wracking her body painfully.
Donald was sober-faced when he walked into the hall, pulling up his pants. "Jeez, I didn't mean it to happen like that," he said, shamefaced. "I feel awful! I wouldn't hurt her for ... for anything in the world!"
Joey, Suzi, Craig and Tippy were upset too. They felt nothing but affection and admiration for Marge, having seen her act like a real woman and not a make-believe doll like most grownups they knew. But they had the wits to realize what the shock must have done to her.
"I don't know what to do," Donald said.
"Maybe we should all go away and let her be alone," Joey offered. "Give her time to get over it."
"Yeah, that would probably be best, he agreed.
"Damn it, no!" The boys turned to look at Marcia, who was white-faced but determined. "You can't do that, give her such a scare and then walk out. You've got to go talk to her, Donald, help her understand, make her know it's all right."
"Oh gosh, I can't. I don't know what to say."
"Just tell her, tell her we think she's great. The greatest," Craig said.
"And by the way, I want to apologize," Tippy put in, "for calling you a liar, Donald. I don't know how you did it, but you sure as shit were telling the truth."
His wilted ego expanded a little, but Donald still felt bad. He really didn't want to upset Marge, and he realized how he'd been using her. He wanted to make amends, but he didn't know how.
"Suzie, why don't you go in and talk to her. Maybe another woman would be better, would make her understand. Please, Suzi, won't you try?"
The slim little girl thought about it. She was a believer in female solidarity, and in her opinion, Donald had ripped Marge off. He deserved to go and apologize himself, and take whatever Marge wanted to throw at him.
On the other hand, would it be better for Marge if Suzi talked to her first? She believed it might be, much as she hated to push herself on the older woman at such a delicate time.
"Well, okay, I'll try it," she said reluctantly. "But you hang in here, Donald. You've got some heavy apologizing to do, you dig? I don't know if it'll do any good, but I'll try."
She opened the bedroom door softly, her heart aching at the sight of the blonde head buried in a pillow, and the sound of the wrenching sobs. She walked softly to the bed and sat on it, and put her hand on Marge's heaving shoulders.
"Please ... can I talk to you a little while?" Marge didn't answer.
"I just want to tell you ... I think Donald's a rotten bum. And I admire you, we all admire you." The sobs seemed to lessen, and Suzi went bravely on. "I've got a lot of respect for you, Marge, won't you let me be your friend?"
CHAPTER SIX
The boys sat in the living room, nervous and dejected. They couldn't hear a sound from the bedroom. When the door opened, after fifteen minutes or so, they all leaped up and looked hopefully at Suzi.
"Is it all right?" Donald asked. "Did she forgive me?"
The girl shrugged. "I don't know yet. I just came out to get something to drink. Beer, or something. She's thirsty."
Donald rushed to the kitchen and got a cold six-pack, which he thrust into the girl's hands. "Can't I go in and see her now?" he asked.
Suzi thought he deserved a bit more punishment, and she shook her head: no. "That wasn't a very nice thing you did," she said reproachfully, and turned back to the bedroom. "Don't go way now, you hear?"
She closed the door firmly behind her, and looked at Marge. "Donald's suffering, but it's good for him." She uncapped a pair of beers for them.
Marge was sitting at the dressing table, repairing her makeup. She still felt upset and shaky, but somehow resigned. "You're a very nice girl, Suzie. I can't help wondering what you're doing mixed up in all this."
Suzi was indeed an attractive blossoming girl, slim with high little knobs of breasts, a flat tummy, a cute little jutting ass. She was wearing a red tank top, obviously with no bra under it; and a pair of cutoff jeans, fringed and frayed around the leg holes. The cut-offs were so brief, the frayed edges came right up to the bottom of the pockets and a flash of red panties showed in her girlish crotch. Her hair was long and straight, brown with a gleam of red in it. Her features were piquant rather than pretty, with a tilted nose and a dimple in her chin.
Suzi handed her a beer, cold and beaded with moisture. "I'm in it because I like it. Because it's exciting and adventurous, and everything else is boring."
"I guess I can understand that, all right," Marge sighed. "It must be partly the reason I took up with Donald in the first place. I was bored...." She giggled suddenly, and added, "To be perfectly truthful, I was also horny as hell!"
Suzi laughed with her. She looked at the woman's big tits, wondering if she'd ever attain such magnificence, and shivered for some unknown reason. "You shouldn't ever have to go wanting," she said admiringly. "With a body like that ... "
"Yeah, but I was married. What am I saying, I AM married!"
"So?"
"It isn't that easy. I'm almost forty years old!"
"Age is irrelevant."
"I sure wish I could believe that."
"Believe it," Suzi advised her. She grinned and added, "I wish you could see those crummy guys out there. Chins down to their knees! Well, let 'em suffer a while."
"But the other boys didn't do anything."
"They'd have done exactly the same thing, given a chance. Oh, I'm not saying anything about your screwing Donald, I think that's great. And he meant well most of the time, I suppose. But today ... he was ripping you off today, using you to make himself look like a big man."
"I know. God, what a shock it was." Marge shivered reminiscently, and when Suzi lighted a hand-rolled cigarette and passed it, she took it almost without thinking. Puffing away, she relived the moment of horror when she discovered her obscene sex play had an audience. "What's going to happen now, I wonder."
Marge wandered restlessly around the room, and then sat on the bed beside Suzi. The girl said, "I've got another number in my pocket," and pulled it out. Marge didn't even stop to consider that smoking pot was what made her so uninhibited and got her into trouble in the first place. Things had gone so far, she really didn't care.
"You know, I'm beginning to like this stuff," she said in a surprised voice.
"And I'm beginning to like you ... very much," Suzi answered.
Impulsively Marge put her arm around the girl and hugged her. "Wonder what Donald's thinking right now?"
"I don't give a rat's ass. Marge...." The girl snuggled closer to the older woman. "What is it, honey?"
"Did you ... did you ever make it with another woman?"
"Heavens, no! Why did you ask? Have you?"
"No, but I've always wondered. And times like this, when I get really pissed off at guys, I wonder even more."
Marge said in a trembling voice, "Did you think that just because I did that with Donald, that I'll ... do anything?"
"No!" The girl turned and put her arms around Marge, and looked up into her eyes. "Please, don't say that, don't even think it."
Marge believed her, but she still didn't understand. "Then why did you...?"
"Because you're so beautiful," Suzi answered in a husky voice. "I was never really attracted to another woman before. I do love, uh, oral sex, and sometimes other chicks have approached me. You know, wanting to get it on. But I never would."
Marge couldn't help but believe her. A strange tremor ran through the woman, and she said slowly, "I just lied to you, Suzi. I did ... get it on, as you say ... with another girl once. But it was so long ago, I'd forgotten all about it, truly."
"Oh, wow! Tell me about it. Was it fun?"
"I was just a kid," Marge said as if defending herself. "She was my best friend, and we used to stay at each other's house all the time. We were just learning about sex, and about our bodies, and we'd both discovered masturbation."
"How old were you? What was her name?"
"Um, we must have been fourteen, maybe fifteen. Her name was, let me see now. Oh yes, Madeline. God, how long ago that was, I'd almost forgotten! I loved her, I remember that now. I really really loved her."
"Tell me about it," Suzi said childishly, as if begging for a bedtime story. As indeed she was.
"We were over at her house, and nobody else was home. We went to bed, a double bed, and we were talking about boys and giggling, you remember. All girls are the same, I guess. Anyhow, she'd just found out about boys, what they do in sex, I mean. And we were sort of horrified. I remember thinking: and they put their things up inside you? Ugghhh, it sounded awful!" She laughed.
"And then what?"
"We tried masturbating, together. Madeline said, I'll do it to you and you do it to me. We can close our eyes and pretend we're boys, I mean that we were with boys, instead of each other. So we did. We rubbed each other's clits. Lordie, I can see her little pussy now, with just a soft down on it. It was so pretty! I played with her clit and her pussy-lips, and then, I don't know, I just had to kiss it."
"And she liked it?"
"She loved it! So of course when I saw how much pleasure she was getting, I wanted her to kiss me down there too, and she did!"
"Oh, how darling it was!" Suzi squealed, moving in closer. "Marge, let's do it, let's pretend. I'll be Madeline, and we'll play little-girl, and kiss each other's twats!"
It seemed like a great idea to Marge. In some vague way, she'd be getting back at Donald, and at all men. Besides, she'd quickly grown very fond of the young Suzi and the idea of pleasing her was delightful. She supposed smoking the grass had broken down her inhibitions, but what difference did it make? She was feeling hot and horny again, she longed to touch and stroke and kiss the pretty girl, and if it ended up in a bit of Lesbianism, who the fuck would know or care?
But she hesitated. "I don't know, Suzi. Neither one of us are really gay, and maybe we shouldn't."
The teenager shrugged impatiently. "Of course we're not gay! But I want ... oh, I want to try everything! I want to touch it all, and taste it all, and feel everything I possible can. I want to travel and see the world, to really live. Do you understand, Marge? I want it all!"
Marge had to smile at the girl's enthusiasm, but she did indeed understand. She'd felt that way herself, so many years ago she'd forgotten about it. And put on that basis, as an experiment with one part of life, how could she refuse?
"I'm dying to see your boobies, besides," Suzi confessed. "I wonder if I'll ever be stacked like you?"
"Your little titties are just fine as they are," Marge said. "Honey, I LIKE your little high jugs, they're so saucy and nice!" Boldly she stroked the pert breasts through the tank top, and then ran her hand up under it. "Ummm, what sweet little nipples," she crooned, feeling them rise under her knowing touch.
"Ummmm, that's just delicious," Suzi shivered. "Hey, let's get some of our clothes off, Marge."
Slowly, tantalizingly, Marge undid the knot at the back of her neck. Conscious of the girl's avid eyes on her, she slid the halter down to her waist, exposing the big plushy white mounds. "Go ahead, you can touch them," she invited the girl.
"Ummmm, gorgeous!" Suzi pushed her hot little palm on one big hard hippie. With a darting glance at her new friend's face, she pinched gently and then rolled the firmness between her fingers.
Marge discovered it was every bit as blissful as having a man play with her tits, or almost so, anyway. It seemed that her nipples, at least, couldn't differentiate between male and female hands! Which was an amusing thought to her, at the moment.
"Come on, Suzi, get your shirt off," she urged, surprising herself with the sudden quick desire that seized her. "Turn about's fair play, you know!"
Suzi was panting hard already. She whipped the skimpy shirt off her body, and Marge stared gloatingly at the dear little tits, so unlike her own. They were a deep rosy pink, not brownish like hers, and they stood up so perkily on the firm small rounds.
The two women sat on the bed staring at each other, both of them breathing hard. Marge moved impulsively, pulling the girl to her and mashing her lips down on the rosy mouth. The high hard breasts were pressing into her own resilient boobies, a strange feeling and yet a very erotic one. She would never have imagined that it would feel so good! She held her closer, enjoying the feel of the tiny waist and the hot wet mouth and the tits that pricked her skin.
Excitement welled up in both of them as they kissed and pushed their tits together, and they pulled apart a moment, to stare in pleased amazement. Suzi's eyes were bright, and two little patches of red appeared on her cheekbones. Marge knew she herself was breathing heavily, flushed and excited, her cunt seeping juices.
She pulled the girl to her again, and her hand crept down the slim back and knobby spine, to rest in the gentle curve of waist. She slid her fingers under the waistband of the cutoffs, as Suzi moaned and glued her mouth to Marge's.
"I want to kiss your tits," Suzi said breathlessly, and dived for them like a pearl diver, her hot fluid lips forming a tight circle around one big nipple.
Suzi's hands crept like little mice to the waistband of Marge's skirt and opened the zipper. They stood up with difficulty, because they didn't want to let go of one another. Suzie pushed firmly down on the skirt, and then slid her hot slim fingers under Marge's panties. At the same time, Marge was removing the girl's denim shorts and tugging at the bikini panties underneath. They managed somehow without breaking the long passionate tongue-trading kiss, wriggling, their hips and pushing at each other's clothing.
"Ooofff, ummffff," Marge gasped, finally having to come up for air. They sank back on the bed and stared at each other in mutual appreciation. Marge stroked the girl's flat tummy and ran her hand lightly over the furry muff.
"We ... forgot to pretend," Suzi panted.
"Maybe we don't need to," Marge answered gently. "We can just be ourselves, you little darling. And be happy to be that."
Suzi nodded. "I didn't think it would be this easy, did you?"
"No. I feel perfectly relaxed, and I don't know whether it's the grass, or you. There's no ... holding back, or playing games, as there is with a man."
"Right." Suzi swung her feet to the floor and said, "I need something cold to drink, how about you?" The rest of the beer was still chilled, and she popped open two cans. They took their time sipping and looking each other over.
Marge leaned down and planted a smacking kiss on Suzi's damp mound. "What a pretty little pussy," she said caressingly.
By unspoken mutual agreement, they lay on the bed in the sixty-nine position, the golden head in Suzi's crotch, the brown hair covering Marge's larger pussy. Marge admired the smooth clean lines of the girl's taut body, and moved one thigh to expose the dear little cunt. She could see the pink line of pussy-lips through the brown curls, and ran her finger along its puffy slick surface. Her slit was creamy wet, and as she manipulated the ragged hair-lined lips, she could actually see the swollen bump of the clit emerge from its folds of skin.
"Oh, you darling," she said happily, and leaned down to kiss the miniature organ. She licked it, amazed at the firm taut yet soft surface. She smelled sweet and clean and yet musky with sex, as Marge bent over the crotch that opened for her like a bud coming into flower. Suzi writhed and murmured plaintively, her ass moving in tight little circles on the bed. A trickle of sex juice ran out of the red opening, and Marge licked it up hungrily, tasting a hot cunt for the second time in her life.
"Oh wow, that feels so super! I can't tell you how great it is," Suzi exclaimed.
Marge parted the delectable young pussy-lips with her thumbs and dug her tongue in deeply, liking the taste of pussy more every minute. Or at least this pussy, she amended in her thoughts. She nibbled and sucked and licked, the tendrils of hair curling around her tongue. She was fascinated with the flavor and shapes and softnesses. Burying her face in the heated hollow, she Frenched the girl deeply in her cunt.
"Yeah, Marge, that is the greatest! Suck me some more, please, I love it!" said Suzi. Her slender hips jerked up strongly to push her clit at Marge's mouth, while her body thrashed uncontrollably.
Marge fitted her lips about the little pointed button of flesh, sucking fervently. It was tremendously exciting to both of them. The slightest flick of her tongue on it while it was being sucked produced stupendous results. In a way, Marge felt as if it were her own clit being titillated so lovingly.
She just couldn't get enough of this sweet young cunt! Tasting it fully was only the beginning! She grasped Suzi's hips to hold her still, and stretched her hands to open the clit more fully with her thumbs.
Then she licked the delectable little twat from top to bottom and back again, burying her nose in the wet warm flesh, rubbing her cheeks on the hot cuntlips.
Marge remembered the story she'd told Suzi, the sexual incident out of her own teenage years that for so long she'd thought was shameful. She'd buried it deep in her mind, so that when Suzi first asked if she'd ever been with another female, she really didn't remember at first. But it was all coming back to her now, in every earthy delicious detail. Because Suzi was like Madeline, her beautiful little body, her sweetness and loving disposition. Madeline had been attractive in the same gamine way, a striking contrast to Marge's curves which even then were womanly and well developed. It was almost like being fourteen all over again, she thought as she jabbed her tongue rapidly up into the tight hot vaginal passage. Giving pleasure, receiving it, sharing with someone who really understood you-what a happy thing to do!
And in a sense she owed it all to Donald and his masculine braggadocio!
The thought made a laugh form deep in her throat and the vibrations from her muffled giggle fluttered against Suzi's sensitve sexual organs. The girl moved in quick response, and her pussy-lips and clit seemed to swell, to be even more engorged with blood. Was this what a woman felt like when she was about to cum? Marge knew she'd have the answer any moment.
"Aahhhhhh! OOOOOOOOOO!" Sure enough, Suzi was moaning and whimpering in orgasm, her inner parts palpitating quickly against Marge's mouth and tongue. Her slim body jackknifed, but Marge managed to move with her and keep up her rapid tongue-fucking, determined to give the very ultimate of pleasure to the girl.
When Suzi finally went limp, Marge raised her smeared face and beamed at the younger woman. "Wasn't that fun?" she marveled. "What good ideas you have, Suzi!"
The girl nodded, almost too overcome to speak.
But she found a smile and in a moment said huskily, "Thank you, oh thank you, Marge. That was simply pure heaven!"
Marge's own body was swollen and hot, her pussy leaked a continual stream of love juices, but for once she was unselfishly happy simply to have pleased someone else. Her hands strayed down to her needy clit; she was willing to jerk herself off for relief, but Suzi stopped her.
"That's my job," the girl said, smiling. She crawled over the big buoyant body and pulled Marge's thighs apart with her slender hands. Fascinated, she stared into the golden muff that was glistening with cream, barely concealing the reddish clit that poked through the curls.
The contrast between them showed even here, Marge thought, because Suzi's dainty clit was no more than half as big as her own. She hoped the girl wouldn't be repelled by the sight of her womanly sex organs, which somehow looked gross and crude to her after playing with the girl.
But Suzi had no thought like that at all. She stroked the curls lovingly, parting them to fondle the love bump. "Poor thing, it's all sore and swollen," she said in a crooning voice. "Needs some kissing and some living, that's for sure." She bent her head and kissed it lightly, her tongue lingering after in a slow caress.
"Oh my God," Marge shouted. "OH BABY DO IT TO ME, DO ME GOOD! OH YOU SWEET THING, MAKE LOVE TO ME!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
"What the hell are they doing in there?" Joey growled.
"Maybe they went to sleep," Donald said hopefully. He was increasingly nervous, increasingly aware of all the ways he'd gone wrong. He should have had the sense to keep his sex life and his other life completely separate. But it was difficult for a sixteen-year-old, who was already leading two entirely separate lives before he became involved with Marge.
He'd chafed for years under his parents' restrictions, and it was true, they were much more old-fashioned than some of his friends' families. Not that any of the other grownups approved of pot, far from it! But it was no exaggeration, or not much, to say that all the kids in his high school smoked it. Most of them had at least tried it, and come to the conclusion that it was much more harmless than the martinis the adults were so hooked on. Navy families have a well-deserved reputation for being hard drinkers, and Coronado was a Navy city if there ever was one.
From smoking to dealing was an easy step. It was purely a matter of economics. If you could get together the original hundred and a half bucks for a key, or a kilo, of grass, then you could sell enough off to repay yourself and still have plenty left to smoke. Donald had a savings account, supposed to be for college, and he'd managed to get the money out and back without his folks knowing.
Then Joey had asked him to help distribute when they had a extra kilo, and after that it just went on and on, until he was deep into smuggling and making more money than he'd ever dreamed of. And no place to spend it.
His parents were so used to his "hanging out" with the other kids, they never noticed the extra hours he managed to spend with Marge.
And that gave him three lives to live, and he couldn't handle it, he realized now. But he ached with remorse for the embarrassment he'd caused the beautiful woman, and she had been so good to him, too! He hoped fervently that Suzi was making it all come out right, somehow, so he wouldn't have to go on feeling guilty like this.
"I don't know what they're doing, but it isn't sleeping," Joey answered. "Listen once."
The boys went down the hall and stood outside the bedroom door.
"Gosh, Marge is still moaning and crying," Donald said.
"Shit."
"I'm going in there," said Donald with determination. "It's all my fault anyhow."
* * *
He eased the door open, the other three boys right behind him for moral support. They stood dumfounded at the sight that met their eyes. Beer cans and clothes littered the carpet. The bed was torn up, the pillows on the floor, the sheets and blankets in a wild tangle. It looked as if someone had been fighting, or vandalizing the room.
But the most amazing part of all wasn't the condition of the room, it was the condition of the females in it. They were rolling around on the bed in a sixty-nine position, arms and legs wrapped tightly around each other. They lapped and sucked at each other's twats with frantic gusto. Donald was shocked! His first thought was: but Marge isn't gay, she's not a homosexual!
At the same time, the blood began to pound in his veins. The wildly erotic scene aroused him, at the same time that it shocked him. He was equally thrilled and repelled! But after a moment, his dismay was transformed into the urgent necessity to join them, to get in on the lewd exciting action. He began to rip his clothes off without a second thought.
"Me, too," Joey breathed, pulling his shirt over his head.
The less aggressive Craig and Tippy hung back, but they too were madly aroused, their young cocks beginning to swell and stiffen. All of the boys but Donald had made it with Suzi at one time or another, but the capricious girl wouldn't always have sex with them no matter how much they pleaded.
Marge and Suzi were both so hot and involved, cumming time after time in an almost continuous series of orgasms, that they didn't even notice the boys' arrival. Squishy sucking noises, moans and groans of pleasure, filled the air: and the room was heavy with the scent of their womanly juices and their perspiration. The smacking of lips and sucking sweat-filmed legs and arms and bodies echoed in the air.
The contrast between the two writhing naked bodies made it seem almost as if they were of different species. Marge's naked flesh was white and pink, full and rounded. Her long golden hair flew wildly with every move, tangled into curls, matted with sweat. She was plump and cushiony, a total woman, softly curved. Suzi on the other hand had long slim legs, firm, tanned, wound tightly around the jiggling white body. Her dark hair hid her face. Her little tits were barely visible, while Marge's protruded from each side even though she was clasping Suzi's body to her tightly.
Donald discarded the last bit of clothing and flung himself on the bed, reaching out to touch something, someone, he hardly cared who or where. He felt the heat from their joined bodies reaching out to him. He looked up to see Joey, his square sturdy body also bare, trying to put a hand on a fast-moving thigh.
The boys grinned at each other. "Where to begin?" Joey said, and Donald shrugged. "Anywhere we can," he laughed.
Donald bent over Marge's big lovely ass, remembering how she'd cried out and cum when he kissed and petted her there before. He put his mouth to the fattest part and bit gently, seeing just enough of Suzi's face for one big brown eye to wink at him. Joey followed his lead on the other end of the tangle of bodies, stroking Suzi's firm taut buttocks and kissing them wetly. And the doorbell rang.
It was a loud penetrating sound that drilled through all of them, even reaching to Marge's lust-crazed mind. The two women stopped their thrashing around, and Marge raised her head. She took in their audience with a bemused eye, as the bell rang again. And again.
"Shit," she said. "Maybe whoever it is will go away."
Instead, the unknown caller began to pound on the door. Marge got up reluctantly. "I guess I'd better answer it. Oh God, it couldn't be Henry! What if he got home, and he's lost his key...."
Frantically she thrust her arms into a robe and belted it tightly. "You kids' keep quiet," she warned, although if it were indeed Henry, what could she do? She couldn't keep him out of his own bedroom!
The youngsters began a quietly frantic scramble into their clothes, while Marge shut the bedroom door firmly and went to answer the imperious summons.
"Oh, Stu! My God, you really leaned on that bell!" Pushing her hair back with both hands, she leaned in the doorway. "I was just taking a nap."
"Jesus, you look beautiful," the man said, almost forgetting why he was there. He'd never before seen her in such a state of disarray, and without realizing what it was, his nostrils picked up the scent of her sexual activity.
"Did you wake me up just to tell me that?"
"No, of course not. Let me in, Marge, I want to talk to you."
She prayed silently that the kids had made it to the kitchen, and the back door. Casting a swift glance over her shoulder, she slowly moved aside so he could go into the living room. The bedroom door was closed, and she had no idea if the teenagers were hiding behind it, or had made good their escape.
"Well, aren't you going to offer me something? If not a kiss, at least a drink?" If he didn't know better, he'd swear he'd interrupted Marge with a lover! She had that look about her, that unmistakable flush of sexual satiety. The thought not only raised his libido, it aroused his masculine pride and competitiveness. If he couldn't score with her, nobody else could!
"Sure, just a minute." She went to the kitchen, seeing the back door close just at that moment, and breathed a sigh of relief. "Listen, Stu, you know where everything is. How about mixing us each one, while I freshen up?"
"You look fine to me just as you are," he grinned, but went to the refrigerator and began to get out the ice cubes.
Damn him, Marge thought. Yet she couldn't quite be rude, and fluff him off the way she wanted to. First of all, he was supposedly her husband's best friend, and they'd all known each other for years. His wife had divorced him the year before, and she knew he was lonely. She didn't really want to hurt his feelings.
And besides, she couldn't afford to make him suspicious. If he had any idea that something was going on, he was quite capable of sniffing around until he found out what it was. Heaving a sigh, telling herself to be patient, Marge quickly straightened the bed. Then she went into the bathroom and washed off quickly, brushed her hair, and slipped into underwear, slacks and shirt. She certainly wasn't going to sit around drinking with Stu in a robe!
She'd come down entirely from her marijuana high, but it left her with a dry mouth and a large thirst. So she gulped at the stiff drink he'd mixed, relaxing as the potent bourbon slid down her throat. Booze she felt comfortable with, she realized, while pot was still an unknown quantity.
"Okay," Marge said, relaxing in a big chair, "What's on your mind, Stu?"
"You are." He leaned forward and fixed her eyes with his. "I keep wondering what you've been up to, why you haven't been at the club. I was afraid it was because of what happened the last time ... I was afraid I was the one you were avoiding."
"No, not at all," she said truthfully. "I just ... uh ... I've been a bit under the weather, is all. I didn't feel like going out."
"You're certainly blooming now," he said.
"Oh, I feel fine now. Guess I had a touch of the flu or something." She realized she'd have to keep up a semblance of normal life, just as Donald did. She made a mental note to phone some of her woman friends, and to go out for dinner occasionally. Stu wasn't the only one who would begin to wonder.
"Then it wasn't me," he said.
"No, certainly not."
"And you really weren't upset because I was ... putting the make on you the other night, to put it bluntly," he persisted.
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, pleased with herself for handling him so well. "Not a bit of it, Stu. After all, we've known each other for years."
"I'd hate to think you were angry just because I couldn't resist trying to make love to you."
"I keep telling you, I wasn't angry."
"I'm glad to hear that, because I don't think I could stop if I wanted to." He leaned back, satisfied that he'd made his point.
Too late, Marge saw the trap he'd led her into. If it didn't bother her to have him try to seduce her, then she hadn't any right to get angry when he did it again! "As long as it stops where it did," she said weakly.
But that made it even worse! He came over and sat on the arm of her chair, drink in one hand. His other hand caressed her neck warmly and slid down to her collar bone. "I'm not sure I can promise that," he said silkily.
"Don't, Stu." She struggled to get up but he held her down easily. His hand reached farther, slipping under the neckline of her shirt.
"How long are you going to tease me like this?" he said. "I'm not going to wait much longer, honey. You and I ... it was just meant to be, don't you know that?"
She pushed his hand away and slipped out of the chair, slopping her drink. He stood, too, facing her and so close that his breath fanned her face.
"I wish you'd stop this," she said fretfully.
"You can't go on without a man, I know it! So why shouldn't it be me? Don't worry about Henry, we'll be discreet." He put his hand on her shoulder, in close to her throat. "Besides, I'm not sure he'd care that much anyway. As long as we weren't obvious. Did you know ... I hate to be the one to tell you this, Marge."
She flinched. She'd often wondered if Henry had another woman, but she'd never wanted to find out. She closed her eyes, wishing she didn't have to hear it now, but at his next words, her eyes flew open again in astonishment.
"He didn't have to go on this cruise! He volunteered! He could have been home here with you, all this time."
"Oh!" Although when she thought about it, she wasn't really surprised. Henry certainly had been in a peculiar frame of mind since he'd been passed over for promotion.
"So why pretend everything is hunky-dory with your marriage, honey? When every body knows there must be something wrong."
"I don't want to hear about it." Marge stepped backward. "Tell you what, Stu. If you promise to quit talking about Henry, I'll get dressed and go out to dinner with you. How about that?"
He was delighted, and so they did. Many drinks later, after barely picking at dinner, they arrived back at Marge's front door and Stu came in as if it was his right. Marge was drunk, deliberately so. Sometime in the course of the evening, she'd decided what to do about the persistent would-be lover. She'd screw him, what the hell! She'd screwed Donald, she'd made love to Suzi, and she'd come within five minutes of participating in an orgy! And maybe, just maybe, Stu would cure her of her obsession with Donald's young body.
* * *
Somewhere along the way, she'd lost her fear of gossip that had motivated her for so long. Knowledge of what she was really doing made a small thing like an affair practically virtuous by contrast!
"Come here, you beautiful thing," he said thickly, holding out his arms. And Marge walked into them, pressing her full tits to his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck, plastering the whole length of her curvaceous body against him.
Why, I'm just as horny as ever, she thought drunkenly. Even for Stu!
CHAPTER EIGHT
"We've got all night," Stu said, holding her possessively. "I'm going to show you what real loving is, my girl."
She thought about Donald, and about Suzi, and about her husband Henry. She hated to give in to Stu's macho pride and ego, even yet, but she felt herself dangerously close to succumbing. Not only did logic tell her it was the easiest way to avoid suspicion, but with his arms around her, she could smell his healthy male scent and feel the strength of his arms.
She'd looked at him appraisingly during the evening, in a way she'd never stared at a man before. Several times she'd noticed an interesting bump, long and large, at the tight crotch of his slacks. He might be very well hung indeed, which would certainly make the experience more pleasurable.
Her cunt should have been well nourished but for some reason, the more she got, the more she seemed to want! The hot juice literally spat out of her box and had soaked her panties and panty hose right through. When Stu kissed her, she discovered she really wanted that big hard cock of his ramming aggressively into her wet pussy, fucking her hard and long.
Drunk as she was, she had a peculiar problem. Who was she really being unfaithful to, her husband or her sixteen-year-old lover?
Suddenly shocked by her promiscuity, she pulled away. "Stu, I don't know. This isn't right, it isn't fair to Henry. No matter what he's done. You know as well as I do that he's upset about not getting promoted. Now's the time he needs me."
"I need you worse," he said, pouncing on her suddenly. He wasn't about to let his prize get away at that point! He had his arms on her shoulders urging her back toward the bedroom. She went slowly, sniffing the air and wondering if it were her imagination, or if it still did reek with smells of sex.
Stu began to undress her, rather clumsily. He'd known all along that he'd have problems with her at the last minute, that she would try to renege on her unspoken promise. In fact, he thought he knew everything there was to know about Marge, and about Henry Shervold too. She was a woman who was afraid of her own sexuality, he believed, who would want it and run from it at the same time. She'd never been properly awakened, he knew for a fact; because his ex-wife had once told him so. Marge had never had another man but Henry, she'd confided, and he was no great shakes as a lover. So Stu was prepared to teach and instruct, to get her so aroused she couldn't help herself, to break down the artificial barriers she'd built up around her own womanliness.
Of course, Stu didn't know he was about a week too late.
He rather enjoyed the thought, but he wasn't too upset when she took over her own undressing. He still could teach her what it was all about, even if she did seem cooperative right now.
In moments they were both naked and sprawled on the double bed. Stu drew his breath in sharply. He'd waited so long to see her like this, and imagined it so many times, but even so he wasn't prepared for the reality. She was even more beautiful than he'd thought! He was like a kid turned loose in a candy store, not sure which delicious goodie to grab first! His hot eyes roved over her ample body and he stroked her side, her arm, a bulging breast, an upstanding nipple.
But he remembered that, first of all, he had to excite her to the point where she wouldn't want to quit. He suspected he'd gotten this far only because she'd had too much to drink. And Marge certainly acted like it, falling back on her pillow as if she might easily drop off to sleep!
So Stu, leering hungrily, turned his attention to the spot that counted most. An experienced seducer, he thought he knew all about women. According to what his ex-wife had said, Henry never was willing to go down on Marge. As for himself, there was nothing he minded where a conquest was concerned.
He dipped into the fragrant, appealing blond muff, searching out her clitoris with his stiff tonguetip. Many a woman had told him it was the swiftest pleasure she'd ever known, and Marge would be no exception. He was right, of course; she gasped as the unexpected sharp thrill ripped through her loins.
"Ahhhhh," she moaned. "Ahhhhh, ooooooooo...."
Well satisfied with his beginning, Stu swiftly and expertly parted the plump furry lips of her mons with his fingers, uncovering the quivering ivory bud of her sensitive clit. He placed his hot slick tongue on it again, knowing it was the key to her sexual response. His stiff tonguetip tickled and lapped all over the quivering organ, tasting her juices which flowed down into his mouth.
"Very nice," Marge said languidly, though it was really much more than that. The stabs of pleasure shooting through her seemed to permeate her whole body. She was dizzy with it, ecstatic. The incredible joy she felt almost made up for the fact that it was Stu who was giving it to her.
She spread her long shapely legs as wide as she could, giving him plenty of room in which to operate. Arching her pelvis up to meet his lapping tongue, her body instinctively searched for maximum exposure, maximum pleasure. She was creaming so heavily, his face was covered with it. She curled her fingers tightly in his hair, imprisoning his face in her crotch while her horny hips bucked and shoved down on him.
Stu was pleased with himself. He'd carefully calculated not only the amount of liquor she'd consumed, but the quality of it as well. He'd insisted on their drinking a particular sparkling rose wine with their meal, because a friend had told him it was a surefire aphrodisiac. It wasn't exactly a dinner wine, but he'd poured it into her nonetheless. Then the after-dinner liqueurs ... and of course, they'd had numerous cocktails before they ate.
He'd been afraid that Marge, with all her inhibitions, would be horrified at the idea of oral sex, and felt he needed to arouse her lust while the booze quieted her conscience.
To his surprise, he was really enjoying the cunt-lapping almost as much as she was. It was a practiced skill for him, not one he really appreciated as some men did. But Marge seemed to have a particularly tasty cunt. He licked and lapped and tongued her heated clit with real enjoyment. And the throbbing little bud grew even plumper and stiffer, just like the miniature cock that in a sense it was.
Expertly he moved farther in between her puffy slick labia, seeking the entrance to her body and to her deepest pleasure. His tongue lapped the length of her slit wetly, and lipped in and out of every fold and cranny. When he reached the indented dark hole of her cunt, he jammed his stiff tongue in it as far as he could.
"Owwwwwwww!" Marge gave a piercing shriek of joy and arched her body toward him sharply, so his probing tongue went into her deeply. Gratified, he moved in and out, tongue-fucking her furiously.
Stu himself was nearly ready to faint with pleasure. Her cunt was even tighter and sweeter than he'd dared imagine, the muscular walls tight and gripping, fumace-hot. He could hardly wait to get his stiff meat into that tight delicious sheath!
Marge teetered on the trembling verge of orgasm. She did so love to have her pussy reamed out with a stiff tongue, and her clit sucked and kissed! It made her sad for all the wasted years before she'd found Donald and taught him how. It occurred to her that she might well have been getting it from Stu, if she'd only known what a good lover he was!
"This is fun, Stu," she said happily. "You're really a good ... good cunt-sucker."
He stopped, jarred by her remark. She didn't exactly sound overcome by passion. In fact, she sounded very much like an experienced woman, with standards of comparison, who was enjoying herself but wasn't terribly impressed. And for this he had his face buried in her twat!
Marge meant to encourage him, but to her disappointment he suddenly withdrew his tongue from her swampy seething vagina. She blinked and moaned, drunkenly looking for him. He knelt between her legs, holding his fiercely erect prick in his hands.
"Mmmmmm, that is a nice one," she said. "Wow, I didn't have any idea you'd have such a big prick, honey."
Stu, who took pride in his stiff nine-incher, stroked the hot hard organ that waggled in front of him. So maybe she wasn't as naive as she'd seemed, as inexperienced as he believed. At least she appreciated what he had to offer!
Marge stared greedily at the huge organ, with its bulbous purplish head oozing pearly cream. His balls were nice and fat, too, lightly -haired, firm looking. Saliva pooled in her mouth and she wanted to reach out and grab his cock and pop it right into her hungry mouth. All the years with Henry, who didn't let her touch his cock and balls, were wiped out by her recent experiences. Still she felt she could never get enough of kissing and touching a man's genitals. She moaned hungrily and reached out to seize the enormous hard rod-but just then, he moved away.
Stu was somewhat alarmed by the look on her face and the way she grabbed at him. He began to feel like the man who rode a tiger. He could neither stay on nor get off. Had his pussy sucking created a monster of lust,-too much for him to handle? As his ego felt bruised, his hard-on wilted a little bit.
"Do you, uh, want me to kiss it?" Marge asked hopefully.
Fortunately for his peace of mind, he misinterpreted the avid look on her face for one of fear. Aha, so that's it, he thought. Betcha anything Henry insists on her giving him head, while he won't go down on her! That would explain everything! With this thought, his cock leaped again into bursting life.
"No, no, sweetheart, it's all right," he soothed her. "I'm just going to put it in you now ... and make you happier than you've ever been in your life before!"
She sighed and lay back, while Stu held his rigid hot organ and directed its huge head between her luscious plump thighs, right into the mushy wet tissues of her pussy. As the cock separated her labia, she moaned and twitched, hardly able to wait for it to slide deep inside her. She wanted it so much she had to bite her lips to keep from screaming. No matter how much sex she'd had lately, she was as hot as ever, wanting his meat filling her, stuffing her completely. She moaned with bliss as the gigantic prick pushed deep into the waiting vagina.
And it was great, just as marvelous as she'd hoped! His slow but steady penetration drove her wild with pleasure and she felt her lubricating cunt juices flooding out to ease his way. He was huge indeed, filling her completely, stretching her fiery cunt almost to bursting! She loved the sensation of being stuffed, invaded, possessed. She'd thought she would be comparing his technique, his body, his prick with Donald's sweet young cock but she had no time for that. She wrapped her smooth white legs around his waist to pull him even deeper, until his plump balls were smacking against her upturned ass.
"Love, love, love it, love to get fucked," she chanted, bucking back at him.
In his drive to completely enchant and fulfill her, Stu found he was succeeding almost too well. Because her quick response and energetic fucking had brought him almost to orgasm ... long before he wanted to cum. She was starved for sex, he could tell. Her inner muscles were powerful, seizing his cock in a tight grip, tugging it, milking and squeezing it. Poor lonely woman, she was just lucky he had the persistence to force her into what she really secretly wanted! That damn Henry Shervold, what a fool he was to neglect a powerhouse of sex like Marge! And even when he'd been around, obviously he hadn't given her what she really needed.
Well, tough titty, Henry Shervold! He grinned happily to himself, thinking that Henry's loss was his gain. Friendship or no friendship! Marge was lusty and passionate and beautiful....
A startling thought popped into his head. Maybe ... just maybe ... I'll even marry her!
He worked his stiff prick slowly in and out of her avid cunt, speeding up then to smash down hard while she yelped in mingled pleasure-pain. Stu felt like a very big man indeed! Already he'd convinced himself he'd turned a frigid female into an insatiable sex machine. It's all in knowing how to do it, he thought. And of course having a supersize cock didn't hurt!
"Ahhhhh! OOOOOOOOO! EEEEEEKKK!" Marge wailed as her orgasm surprised her. "OHHHHHYES, YES OH YESSSSSSS!"
Stu took a deep breath of relief. He'd been gritting his teeth, hanging on as well as he could, and he'd made it. He could get his own rocks off now, having satisfied her completely. He was astonished with the violence of his own cum, and with the way her hot cunt continued to grip and massage his rod even while the jism was spurting into her.
"Phheewwww!" he sighed blissfully. "Now that was all right, wasn't it, sweetie?"
"Ummmmm, very, very nice," she said dreamily.
"Nice?" He was outraged. "Is that all you can say?"
"Okay, it was, uh, superior. Far out." She giggled. "Okay?"
He realized she probably didn't even know the language of love and reminded himself to be patient with her. Rolling away from her he patted a little yawn. "I think I'll nap for a minute," he said drowsily.
"Sure, go ahead." As for herself, Marge felt invigorated and ready for anything. Like eight or ten more orgasms. Besides, she was hungry. She thought with regret of the steak she'd barely nibbled at; why hadn't she asked for a bowser bag? But there was bound to be something in the refrigerator, even though she hadn't paid much attention to cooking and housekeeping lately.
Slipping on a robe, she headed for the kitchen. She was scrambling eggs when she heard a tap on the back door. Opening it nervously, she found Donald standing there.
"I didn't think I should use my key," he said sheepishly. "After what happened, I mean."
"Um, well, I'm not upset any more, Donald. But I'm glad you didn't come right in, I've got company."
"Company?" He frowned, and looked pointedly at her robe.
"He just, uh, we had too much to drink, and he passed out. So I thought I might as well be comfortable, he's an old friend anyhow." She tightened the sash of the robe, trying to think what to say. She supposed she shouldn't explain to Donald that she'd just gotten well and truly fucked by her old friend; would the boy be upset and jealous? Oh dear, she was walking out into a treacherous new country, without guideposts or map. Sometimes she wondered if it was worth it. And yet the glow of inner well-being told her that it was.
"I suppose I'd better go then," he said doubtfully. "We all wanted to know you were okay. Oh, and Suzi says hello." He gave her a knowing grin.
Marge locked the door after him, and after thinking about it, put on the inner bolt, too. It might offend Donald to find himself locked out, but probably not as much as walking in on her and Stu in the middle of a sex scene.
She ate her eggs and hurried back to the bedroom; Stu had slept long enough. He was lying on his back, snoring. She touched his arm gently but nothing happened, so she decided stronger measures were called for. She tried tickling the bottom of his feet, but that trick, which always used to wake Henry, only made Stu snort and mumble and roll over.
A wicked grin lighted her face as she got another idea. She crawled up on the bed and lay with her pussy almost in his face, which of course put her own face at his crotch. His limp dick was hiding among the forest of graying curls, and she carefully put her hand under it and blew, pursing her lips as her warm breath fanned the semen-stained organ.
Stu began to have a very pleasant dream, an interestingly erotic one. He was the sultan of some oil-rich country, in his dream, a regular pasha with cars and money and palaces. He also had a harem of gorgeous young girls who followed him everywhere he went, begging him to kiss and touch them. One beautiful girl was especially appealing, so he slouched into his throne and allowed her to suck his cock.
Her big black eyes rolled up at him in obvious delight, as she held his pecker in her hands and licked it all over, and planted wet warm kisses on it, and slurpingly sucked it up into her mouth. He petted her head and adjusted himself to give her freer access to his stiffening organ....
When his eyes opened, he wasn't sure for a moment where he was, or what was happening. Then he looked down and recognized Marge-unlike his dream girl, she had big blue eyes, but they were still watching him mischievously. And his cock was in her mouth, so no wonder he had such a sexy dream. It all came back to him. He realized she was probably trying to please him, as she was required to do in her marriage.
He reached for her and with difficulty pulled her away, hating the necessity for it. "Come on up here, sweetie, you don't have to do that."
"Oh, I know I don't HAVE to," Marge said, artlessly for her mature age. "But I just love it. Why'd you make me stop?"
"You love it? I don't believe it!"
"But I do!" She looked at him, and then said, "But it's all right, Stu, we don't have to do that. Why don't we just fuck again, instead."
"Now, now, little lady, I think you've had enough for one evening. On top of all the drinking, too." He yawned, and patted her on the shoulder. "Let's sleep now. And in the morning, guess what? Stu'll wake up with a nice hard-on for you."
"You mean YOU've had enough for one evening," she said rudely. She was furious! She'd turned Donald away at the back door because of this idiot, and now when she wanted to fuck, he was too tired! "You'd better get your clothes on, Stu, because you're not sleeping here."
Stu argued, but she turned a stubborn face to him and refused to listen. "You got what you wanted from me," she said spitefully. "Now you can go home."
He was amazed. "Marge, do you realize, I was going to ask you to MARRY me?"
"I've already got a husband, thank you. And even if I didn't, I wouldn't want you." She had to laugh at the surprised look on his complacent face, even though she felt desperately confused. It was just as she'd always suspected, being on her own brought more problems than pleasures.
CHAPTER NINE
Marge hung up the phone and turned to face the group of teenagers sprawled around her living room. "Well, that's it," she said with a somber look. "Henry, my husband, will be home in two days. That was someone from the Navy, giving me the official word."
"Does that mean we won't be able to see you any more?" Donald looked as if he might cry. He couldn't believe that all the fun was over.
"Maybe he'll go out to sea again," Craig said hopefully.
"Yeah, what about that?" Suzi chimed in.
"No. As a matter-of-fact, I think he'll be processed out some time in the next few months. He'll resign, or whatever."
"And then what?"
She shrugged expressively. "God only knows. He'll shoot himself, or go crazy. Or learn how to live as a civilian."
"Shit." Suzi made a face, and then brightened. "We'll work something out, Marge, I just know we will! And meantime, we've got two whole days! Thank goodness it's the weekend. What'll we do?"
Marge felt reckless enough to ignore the dangers, but she did worry about the kids. It wouldn't be fair not to tell them what she'd heard. "Listen, I am getting myself talked about on Daisy Place. Somehow, somebody knows you kids are coming here. Donald's mother said something to me this morning, about how popular I was getting with the high school set. I'm afraid you'll all get into trouble."
"That's simple," Craig said cheerfully. "Let's take my van and go to the desert for the weekend."
Marge had never been camping in her life, but as the kids talked about it, she decided she'd like to try it. She'd enjoy their company, in any case! And they had extra sleeping bags and she needn't worry about a thing! She did her part, however, by frying chicken and making a big bowl of potato salad.
They left before dawn on Saturday morning-too early, she hoped, for snoopy neighbors to see her run out to the van with her little suitcase. Even the ride to the Colorado River was fun, with the kids singing and telling stories and laughing about the discomfort of six people and all their gear in one vehicle. They smoked grass, of course, and while Marge didn't care for it even yet, she took a puff now and then. She didn't want to be a party pooper.
They went off the road and bumped across a faint trail, until they reached their favorite camping site. Marge loved it instantly. The privacy alone was spectacular, with not another car or person in sight! The broad reaches of the river stretched in front of them, low hills surrounded them.
When the kids tossed off their clothes and went swimming, Marge was too shy to follow them. She was suddenly conscious of her age, her size, the overflowing bounties of her body. She sat on the bank and watched them. They were all so slim, sleek and active. She realized that she didn't belong with them, that her place was someone her own age, even the obnoxious conceited Stu. Her body embarrassed her. She looked down at her full boobs, almost bursting out of her blouse, and her womanly hips, her plump thighs and rounded calves. For the first time since her involvement with Donald began, she fully realized what a situation she'd created. Donald, just rising from the cool waters, looked like the boy he was. His wide shoulders tapered down to slim hips. Suzi, next to him, looked just right with her tiny waist and pert little tits; they were a matched pair.
Marge felt like a mother, an aunt, a chaperone.
"Hurry up and come in, Marge, the water's great," Suzi called, but the older woman shook her head.
When they'd had enough of playing and splashing in the water, the kids flung themselves down in the sun. Marge went for a beer from the cooler. She saw it was packed with cold cans, and knew that there were cases more in the van, as well as every kind of prepared food you could think of. This depressed her even more. It was all paid for with activities that were illegal, if not actually immoral. They were all nothing but dope fiends, and she was just as guilty as they were because she'd done nothing to stop it.
The two days stretched ahead of her like a lifetime, and to make it worse, her body refused to acknowledge what her mind was telling her. The heat of the day, the beers she drank, the naked bodies of the young boys all combined to make her as horny as she'd ever been in her life. Even the sight of Suzi's slim yet sexy figure was enough to turn her on.
Eventually, of course, the kids noticed her gloom. Donald and Joey exchanged glances. They didn't know the cause, but they knew it would spoil their weekend if they couldn't get her to snap out of it. And although Donald didn't know it was the contrast between their youth and her own ripe charms which was upsetting Marge, he figured her conscience must have something to do with it. It was a drag. Once and for all, Marge had to give up her old-fashioned puritanical attitudes, and he thought he knew just how he could manage this. They'd been interrupted last time they were about to stage an all-out orgy, and yet it would have been just the thing to break down Marge's silliness.
He looked significantly at Joey and the other boy nodded. He had a pretty good idea what was on Donald's mind, or at least he hoped so.
The sun was almost ready to set and shadows were lengthening when Donald went to sit beside the morose older woman. He put his arm around her and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. Marge's reaction was to look, instantly, to see if anyone noticed; and this annoyed the boy, and made him more determined.
He pushed her body backward onto the spread-out blanket, and began to caress her lush curves. "Don't, Donald, let me up," she said.
But he didn't even answer, instead planting his mouth on hers in a wet kiss. She was weakened by the feel of his nude body, and let him kiss her. It's almost dark anyway, she told herself, and maybe nobody can see us. It was just too easy and pleasant to sink into the dizzy whirl of sexuality. Then she gasped, both with pleasure and with horror. Another slim boyish body was wriggling between her legs, hands on her shorts, opening them and tugging at the cloth.
"Oh, no, boys, please," she moaned. "You mustn't, please don't. Everybody will see us."
"Silly," Donald said between kisses. "What would they see that they hadn't already?"
Joey succeeded in pulling her shorts off her ankles and then her underpanties, too. She moaned with joy and dismay, as the boy pulled her wet reeking labia apart with his hands and put his mouth on her swollen clit, sucking it furiously. At the same time, Donald's hands were under her blouse, finding and baring her ripe breasts, sucking the hard pink nipples. It was just too much! She couldn't resist the double onslaught, in fact she found she didn't really want to. Especially since it was their last fling!
"All right, all right," she said with acceptance and lust in her voice. "You don't have to force me." She took hold of Joey's hand and guided it. The inexperienced boy was trying to finger-fuck her, and not doing too well at it.
Her voice trembling with emotion, she said, "Look, sweetie, do it like this. Oh, that's nice! Put your finger right in me."
When he'd gotten his hand thoroughly wet with her pussy juices, she whispered, "Now, rub it up and down between my lips. Oooohh, that's good, that's wonderful. There's my clit, can you feel it?"
She didn't know Joey too well but he seemed like a nice boy. She knew he was no virgin but she'd suspected he wasn't as experienced as he bragged to Donald, and his clumsiness confirmed the hunch. But that was all right, she could teach him just as she'd taught Donald. These boys would always remember her, that was for sure!
She held his wrist and guided it as he rubbed his finger up and down her slick pussy-lips, and alongside her quivering clit. Jesus, but it felt good! In just a few minutes, the boys had managed to make her forget all her fears and doubts!
"Now you can kiss it, Joey," she said huskily. "Right on that little love bump ... yes, that's right! That's what makes it all happen, honey. Don't forget it, and the girls will always love you!"
"Can I ... fuck you? Can I, please?" the teenager whimpered.
She glanced up at Donald, barely able to see him in the dim light. His open face showed no jealousy, just interest and lust. His hands played over her big jugs, thumbing the tits, squeezing them gently. What heaven it was, to have two darling boys making love to her at the same time! "Sure you can, Joey."
She was annoyed because she couldn't get a good look at his cock, but she'd already noticed that it was long and smooth, maybe even longer than Donald's. She spread her thighs as wide as possible while he hunched over her crotch, holding his fat prick in his hands and aiming for her open pussy. "Stick it in me, sweetie," she gasped. Her body was beginning to arch and push even before the hot meat touched her sopping cunt lips. As she felt it go in, she stared at the excited boy in a haze of lust. The thick rod of flesh gradually sank into her, their pubic hair mingling, and she was already close to cumming!
The other teenagers had lighted a campfire, as much to watch the lewd exciting action as for warmth. Suzi shivered with lust and vicarious pleasure as she saw her friend take the boy's big cock, and moan with delight. Craig and Tippy were staring at her, she knew they wanted to get it on too, but they were never sure if she'd cooperate or not. Suzi was seized with an inspiration!
"Look, guys, let's lie down right here. And do everything they do! We'll watch them, and we'll do it at the same time!"
"Right on! I want to fuck you first, okay?" Tippy said gleefully.
So the delectable little girl put a blanket down next to Marge's and lay back on it, spreading her legs. There was something special about copying Marge, almost as if she were living inside the older woman's skin, enjoying what she enjoyed, doubling her thrills.
Tippy carefully stroked and kissed the girlish pussy and clit, and then poked his hard-on into the mysterious exciting channel. He too was titillated by the unexpected situation. He remembered seeing the women together, passionately sucking each other off, and his cock gave a twitch at the memory.
Marge reached over and found Suzi's hand, and squeezed it hard for a moment. She had to let go then and concentrate on the boy's thick organ, boring into her clinging responsive flesh. She moaned in gratitude as Donald's hands came down again on her sensitive breasts, squeezing them with such power that in other circumstances, she'd have screamed in pain. But now it was nothing but pleasure.
"Donald, darling," she panted. "Your cock ... in my mouth!"
The boy understood instantly and his dick leaped up at the lascivious thought. He crouched over her, knees on either side of her flushed face, and rubbed his throbbing knob around her cheeks, over her eyelids, and finally into her eager receptive mouth. At the same time she felt her muscles close powerfully around the penis in her cunt, as the turned-on Joey fucked her with all his might.
"See, Craig? You do it, too," Suzi whispered. She was a little bit scared, but she bravely opened her pretty lips to take the boy's hot meat. If Marge could do it, she could do it too!
Side by side, the two eager females and the four hard-cocked boys fucked furiously, sweatingly. Firelight flickered over the entwined bodies, and the moon came out from under a cloud to add its silvery light. Sounds of squishing flesh and panting breathing filled the air.
Marge, her mouth crammed with male flesh, her pussy filled with Joey's hard dick, was almost out of her mind with pleasure. Joey's cock was marvelous, going into her very deep, slugging away far into her womb. She felt an enormous cum building in her, her body seeming to swell with its accumulating power. The two big organs smashed into her over and over, each time making her grunt with joy and the shuddering buildup of her orgasm. Her head was moving in cadence with Donald's body as he fucked deeply into her throat, and her pelvis in time with Joey's wild assault. It was just almost too good to stand!
She began to convulse in orgasm, not able to force a single sound out past the huge member that jabbed deep in her throat. And then it seemed as if her cum just went on and on, she went into multiple orgasms that racked and twisted her with the intensity of her pleasure.
"OH, AHHHH, ARRGGGHH! I'M CUMMING!" Joey shouted out into the night. He'd never had such a thrilling experience before, and as his orgasm thundered through him, he thought his heart would burst with bliss and gratitude.
Marge felt his hot sperm spewing into her quivering vagina about one minute before Donald tightened up and then let go with a heart-felt cry. "JEEZZUSS OH JEEZZUSSS! OH! OH!
OHHHHHHH!"
Her laboring throat was filled with his steaming jism and she had no choice but to swallow and swallow. Not that she didn't want to! She was learning to love the taste of male semen, she couldn't get enough of it!
Suzi, still half afraid of her own daring, heard the cries and then as if by plan, the boys pounding into her climaxed too. She skyrocketed off, triggered by their combined cums into a blasting orgasm that shook her little body into a frenzy. When the two cocks slowly pulled out of her mouth and cunt, she stared at the moon and moaned.
"Did you cum, Suzi? Was it fun?" Marge asked languidly.
"DID I CUM?" the little girl shouted. "DID I EVER!"
Marge lay back on her blanket with her arms around the two happy teenage boys. She was a woman fulfilled, at least for the moment. She knew it wouldn't be long before she was ready for a continuation of the wild delicious sex, and hoped the others felt the same way. Joey and Donald certainly did, she knew! Because already one of them was sucking on a hard nipple, while the other eagerly explored the still dripping folds inside her pussy. She didn't need to turn her head to see who was doing what, and it hardly mattered. Both boys, all four boys, were wonderful kids and she meant to show them all the time of their lives before the weekend was over.
Before Henry came home, and he had to go back to being a sullen, unsatisfied housewife again.
CHAPTER TEN
"Awwwww! Hahhhh!" Marge gurgled. Wordless cries were all she could manage, stuffed as her mouth was with Donald's stiff probing cock. Her hands cupped and squeezed his fat rosy balls, clasping and stroking in a frenzy of delight.
She was back in her own bedroom, on her last night of freedom but trying not to think about it. The other boys had gone home, happy but exhausted from their freewheeling weekend of uninhibited sexuality. Only Suzi lingered in the house on Daisy Place, because she'd told her parents she wouldn't be home until Monday morning. But she was tired, and hungry, and decided to raid the refrigerator before joining Marge and Donald in the double bed.
Besides, she had the feeling Marge would relish a few hours alone with the neighbor boy. Although they all joined in and the older woman showed no partiality, Suzi believed that Marge had a soft spot in her heart for Donald. It wasn't adult sexual love, and it wasn't maternal feeling; but something in between, something that Suzi could recognize even if she couldn't define it.
She smiled happily to herself as she snacked on the goodies she'd piled on the kitchen table. Marge always cooked as if she were feeding a houseful of youngsters and a farmer husband, and she might have been happier if she had been. Suzi could hear the squeals and moans and smacking noises of wet flesh meeting and parting, through the open bedroom door. But after a while, after loud orgasmic cries filled the air, the house was silent.
Suzi tiptoed to the bedroom door and peeked in. Marge lay sideways across the bed, with Donald in her arms. The boy's sweaty face was nestled into the crook of the woman's shoulder, and one hand clasped her bulging breast and outstanding tit. Their legs were intertwined, and obviously the boy's softened cock lay in the warm nest between Marge's legs.
"Ahhhhhh," Suzi sighed plaintively. She'd never known anyone, grownup or teenager, who showed such happy gusto about sex before. Of course her experience was limited. But, thinking of her own parents and the other adults she knew, she was damn sure not many of them had Marge's capacity for loving.
Suzi snapped off the light and wandered back into the living room. She was sunburned and hot and itchy, but all her clothes were dirty, and she didn't want to shower and put them back on. So she slipped back into the bedroom to get a robe of Marge's, and threw a sheet over the sleeping couple.
After a shower, clean and comfortable, Suzi turned on the television. She sat in the big comfortable chair watching it in the darkened room, until sleep overcame her, too. Her head fell on her arm and she slept.
Henry Shervold, coming into his home an hour later, thought at first the house was empty. His ship had arrived back half a day earlier than planned. Of course he hand't expected Marge to be at the pier to meet him anyway, because it had been more than a year since they were on those sorts of terms. He knew it was his own fault, but he hadn't been able to do anything about it.
Henry knew perfectly well about his wife's unhappiness, and he even knew what she thought were the causes: his having to get out of the Navy, and an affair of some kind. She just couldn't imagine any other reason for their sex life to fold, unless he was getting it some place else.
Well, Marge was half right, anyhow. He was afraid of civilian life. He didn't know if he could get a job, or how he'd handle one if he could, outside of the rigid structure of the Navy. But as far as sex was concerned, she was dead wrong. Henry had another problem, one that disturbed him so much he hadn't told a single soul about it. He was too ashamed and embarrassed to admit it.
Henry Shervold thought he was impotent.
It started fifteen months before, the day he learned he'd been passed over for promotion. He'd come home and told Marge about it, and instead of going out to celebrate a promotion as they'd planned, they'd stayed home and gotten drunk.
Late that evening, they'd staggered into the bedroom together. "At least we've got each other," Marge whispered to him as they fumbled off their clothes and fell on top of the bedspread. Her arms went around him and she pressed her hot red lips on his. He ran his hands up and down her familiar fleshy curves. He knew the booze had gotten to him and he wasn't exactly ready to leap into a fuck, but he was used to that. The impulse to fuck was there, like a hot ball in his groin, and he knew the lazy flesh would soon cooperate. With a little cooperation, that is, from his wife.
"Touch me," he whispered. "Hold it for me."
He guided her fingers down between their bodies to find the flaccid lump of flesh between his legs. Marge squeezed his limp dick affectionately, and began to stroke and pull at it in the way he liked. After all those years, it was routine. She knew as much as he did about how to arouse him, and she followed the prescribed ritual. Clasping her hand loosely around the yielding tube of flesh, she yanked gently up and down.
When that didn't seem to work, she did the next thing: with her free hand, she fondled and caressed his soft hairy balls. At the same time, they pressed their bodies together and Henry played with her tits, already peaked and excited.
All this went on for such a long time without success, Marge almost fell asleep. Finally, in desperation, Henry said: "Kiss it!"
That woke Marge up, all right! He was such a dodo, old-fashioned about the ways they made love, preferring the missionary position with all the lights out. Marge would have loved to try giving him head, as other women she knew talked about doing with their husbands and lovers. Even more, she'd have liked to feel Henry going down on her. But he'd never gone for it, and there'd never been any real reason for it before-at least in Henry's mind.
She snapped her head down there in a hurry before he changed his mind! After this, he could hardly refuse to do the same for her! Inexperienced as she was at oralism, she opened her mouth and gulped the whole soft little organ in. It tasted odd, warm and soft, and she liked it. Her tongue went instinctively to play around the head, while she sucked in greedily.
And nothing happened; Henry still couldn't get it up.
He blamed it on Marge, of course, but in his heart he was sure that a man's worst nightmare had descended on him in reality. At the time, he pushed her away and grunted something, and burrowed his face in the pillow as if he were going to sleep. But instead he lay awake worrying, and wondering, and worrying some more.
It took about a week before he got up the courage to test himself again, and of course, in that week he thought about little else. He took daily and evening notes of his condition and responses, like a hypochondriac checking his own temperature and pulse rate. When a pretty girl passed by, instead of enjoying the sight he looked down at his own crotch angrily. When Marge rolled over against him in bed, he held his breath and waited for a miracle that never occurred. It was Marge, he thought who'd put this jinx on him. He'd be all right with another woman, a younger woman, someone who didn't know him quite as well, someone who could excite him with her unfamiliar flesh.
He could have made it with any number of Navy wives, and he knew it. Plenty of them had given him signals of their readiness through the years. But the fear of failure had nibbled at his self-assurance; he didn't want to risk the embarrassment of a flabby prick with someone who knew him. He could imagine the gossip, the sniggers and sly remarks. Besides, he believed only a much younger woman could get his juices flowing again.
So he ended up by going into downtown San Diego and finding a high-priced call girl, one with her own apartment. They drank and talked for a while, and his eyes devoured her greedily. She was in her twenties, and had a luscious figure. He'd seen prettier women, but who cared about that? Her mountainous jugs pushed over the top of her dress enticingly, and her bottom jiggled in a delicious manner as she walked across the room.
In another half hour, with a few more drinks to help him forget his recent failures, he might have made it. But time was money to the girl. She stood up and matter-of-factly began to undress. "Time we got on with it," she said in a prosaic voice, pulling her dress over her head. And Henry panicked, and bolted out of there. And the next day he volunteered for sea duty, to his skipper's surprise.
During the long months at sea and in various ports, Henry discovered he could masturbate without any problem. It was only with women he couldn't perform. And naturally, the more he thought about it and worried about it, the less able he became.
He'd been waiting all this time for Marge to discover the truth, and accuse him of it, and threaten to leave him. He thought about her being sympathetic, and he thought about her being disgusted and angry, and he didn't know which would be worse. And much as he dreaded it, he had to come home sometime.
So Henry wasn't at all put out by discovering the young stranger asleep in his living room. Anything, anybody who'd put off the moment of confrontation with Marge. He stood over her and studied the youngster, smiling at the sight of the too-big robe she wore, which he recognized. But even large as it was, it wasn't covering the vibrant young body the way it was meant to. Suzi had knotted the sash loosely, but she'd twisted and turned in her sleep until one high-pointed breast and a tanned gleaming thigh were exposed.
Henry licked his lips, and stared at the firm little boobie with its pink bud-like tit. He could get a glimpse of soft down at her crotch, too, and his cock gave a preliminary twitch. He began to breathe heavily, his face flushing. Under his trouser, his treacherous sex organ swelled and pushed hurtingly, My God, he thought, I've got a hard-on!
His hands went to his fly automatically and he unzipped, pulling the horny cock into the air. Stroking it, pulling back the skin to the coronal ridge, he pumped away gaspingly. She'd never know, she was sound asleep, and it was the loveliest way of beating his meat he'd found yet.
Henry stopped, his enormous dong waggling in front of him. If he could just see a bit more of the child ... He reached out and carefully rearranged the front of the robe, exposing the other tit as well. Then he walked to the front of the chair and leaned one knee on it while he gently pulled the cloth off the plump downy pussy.
God, what a sight! Still half-kneeling in her chair, he worked furiously at his dick, pulling and stroking and kneading.
His first touch had wakened Suzi but she instinctively kept her eyes closed and her breathing even. For a moment she didn't know where she was, but then her memory clued her. Peeking from beneath her eyelashes, she saw the enormous dong first of all, waving its bulbous head practically under her nose. The scent of his semen drifted to her nostrils, as clear drops oozed from the purplish head.
She knew-if only by the size and unfamiliarity of the penis-that this wasn't Donald or any of the other boys. Quickly she put it together. This must be Marge's husband ... what was his name, Henry. Henry Shervold, come home early. And Marge was in the bedroom, sleeping with Donald, their naked bodies tangled together in a way Henry couldn't mistake!
Suzi didn't know what was going to happen, and she watched the man closely through lidded eyes, waiting for a clue. She saw him throw his head back in ecstasy, eyes closed, and she seized what seemed to be an opportunity. Turning quickly in her chair, slumping on her back, spreading her legs obscenely wide, she maneuvered quickly so the dripping bulging cockshead was bobbing up and down only inches from her open pussy. She discovered the lewd and unusual situation affected her strangely, making her feel hot and horny.
The first Henry knew of what was happening was when a pair of delicate little hands slipped onto his huge dick, gently nudging his own fingers out of the way. He looked down in astonishment-right into the open maw of the sweetest little cunt he'd ever seen.
"Wha-at...." Henry began to say, and then gulped noisily. Because the agile little girl was riding forward on her bottom, and at the same time pulling his dick into the swampy vee between her slim thighs. The minute his hot meat felt the tiny labia closing around them, he was in bliss. He forgot all about his impotency, in the sheer thrill of finding his cock in that tight hot channel. Shoving forward, he plowed in farther and farther, wondering that the girlish cunt could accept his tremendous hard dong.
"Christ almight," the man whispered. "I don't know who the hell you are, but-"
Suzi only smiled, and continued to fuck up at him as well as she was able in the awkward position she was in. She lay almost on the back of her neck, her hands coming up to the chair-arms to keep her balance, her pretty thighs and legs extending to either side of his fast-moving body. She couldn't have talked anyway. She was far too busy concentrating on the painful pleasure of having a man-size prick inside her unaccustomed vagina. It filled her so completely, she felt she could hardly breathe! And yet the sensation was marvelous, so thrilling that tears came to her eyes.
"Uh, uh, OWWWWWWW!" Henry howled, as a quick orgasm thundered through him. "AARRRRGGHHHHHHH!"
"Shee-it," Suzi said in disappointment. Then, before he'd finished spurting his hot semen in her, while he still labored in and out, she felt her own cum roll through her.
"EEEEEEKKKK!" She shrilled. "I'M CUMMING, TOOOOO! OOOOOOO!"
Their combined cries penetrated into Marge's sleepy mind. She sat up and blinked. What the fuck was going on? Had some of Donald's delightful friends returned to play more games with Suzi and herself? Not wanting to be left out of anything, she hurried naked to the living room, where she faced the incredible sight. Henry! Fucking Suzi in a chair! Not knowing whether to laugh, cry or hide, she sank down on a chair in the corner, unnoticed by the other two.
Henry finally withdrew his dripping prick and sank onto his knees beside the chair. He buried his face in the girl's damp lap, still breathing heavily, his cheeks crimsoned with the rush he'd felt.
"You little darling," he sighed. "You don't know what you've just done for me."
Suzi giggled. "Sure I do! I just fucked you dizzy! And me, too," she added.
"Yes, but-" Henry didn't even stop to think that he was giving away his best-protected secret. In his gasping relief, he didn't care who she was, he had to burble it all out. "I thought I was impotent! I couldn't get it up with ... my poor wife, she had no idea." That reminded him of the circumstances and he raised his head. "Marge, where is she? Who are you, anyhow?"
"Never mind that," Suzi said. "Finish telling me."
And he poured it all out, his fears and problems. As he was talking, the slim nubile girl slipped out of the chair to sit on the floor by his side. Grasping what he had to say long before he was finished, she ducked her head and began to lick his drying jism off the limp prick.
"So this was the first time-" Henry concluded, when he suddenly discovered he'd lost his audience-but he'd gained another hard-on. "My God, you're a witch," he groaned happily as she opened her mouth and sucked the swelling knob inside.
He gasped with intense pleasure as he felt her hot little lips closing around the fat purple head of his prick. It was somewhat large for her little mouth, but she loved the taste of his juices on her taste buds. She got more excited by the minute. Thoughts raced through her mind, even as she sucked vigorously on his meat. So that was the problem with Marge's marriage! Henry thought he couldn't get it up-and, typical of an adult to her mind, instead of confessing to Marge and asking her help, he went off and sulked!
Well, he was about to find out just how impotent he was, which she suspected was not at all. What fools men were about the really important things in life!
She opened her lips as wide as she could, still sucking frantically, and managed to take in at least half of the length of his hard prick. The papery skin, sliding on the steel inner shaft, felt odd and delightful under her tongue. She sucked until it nudged the back of her throat and fully stuffed her little mouth. Then she began to suck on it as fast and hard as she knew how.
"Jesus, baby, you're too much," Henry moaned. "Oh yes, honey, yesssss!"
Suzi would happily have sucked him to completion and then swallowed the hot semen and licked him dry. But, remembering what he thought was his problem, she decided to prove to him-again-that it wasn't so. Pulling her head back, she grinned up at him with dripping lips.
"Stick it in me, Henry," she urged. "Up in my box!"
Henry didn't think twice. Rolling her over on her back, he straddled her satiny little hips. He could hardly wait to ease his stiff aching meat into that snug wet little cunt of hers....
Marge sighed happily with pleasure, watching her husband mount and skewer the teenage girl. She'd followed not only what Henry said, but what the quick-witted Suzi probably was thinking, and intending to do. Just as the girl had, she thought: what a fool you are, Henry! But maybe Suzi's cured you of this nonsense.
There were a lot of ways Marge could go at that moment, and she had to decide quickly. She could go join them on the floor and make a trio of it, squeezing and tickling Henry's balls, kissing him on the mouth while he balled the girl, even kissing his ass and rimming it, the way Donald had done to her. She really loved her husband in spite of everything, and it was a good way to show that love.
But-what if the sight of her panicked him and he lost his precious erection? He was so conventional-minded, it could easily happen.
She heard a soft footstep beside her; Donald had awakened, too, and was standing there. Inspiration struck Marge. Win or lose, it was worth a try!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Marge reached for Donald's prick and found it half-erect, as she'd expected. He was always ready to go, that marvelous boy! Besides, the exciting scene on the floor would have turned him on just as it did her. Leading him by the cock, she moved nearer to her happily fucking husband and sank on the floor. She and Donald were to one side and a little below Henry's head, so the man wouldn't see them immediately-she hoped. He'd only hear their sex noises, and slowly become aware of the fact that he and Suzi weren't the only ones enjoying the pleasures of the flesh. Or so she hoped.
Donald was hotly aroused, even though he didn't understand what was going on. He suspected the man was Marge's friend Stu, whom he'd never met. If he'd realized it was her husband instead, he might have wilted too, in fear and embarrassment! As it was, he was more than happy to enjoy this wonderful woman's body again.
She lay on the floor, her huge milky-white tits flopping on her chest into their natural curves, naked and pulsing. The brownish-red nipples quivered enticingly, and to Donald it was just as if he were seeing them for the first time. He had to touch those plump white globes, and he seized two gigantic fistfuls of hot bouncing flesh. He kneaded and pumped, while the soft flesh grew hard and swollen and the nipples stiffened against his palms.
His cock was swelling to new lengths and fatness, and he w-edged it into the fat crack of her wet labia. Sneaking a glance at the frenzied pair balling next to him, Donald saw the length and width of the white shaft plunging in and out of Suzi's cunt. He had a big one, all right! But Donald wasn't ashamed of his own boyish dick, and what it could do. But somehow, just plain fucking didn't seem important enough for the occasion!
"Roll over, Marge," he whispered. "Let's do it dog-fashion!"
"Sure, honey," she grinned. Heaving her plumpness around, she crawled on her hands and knees, just a few feet from her husband, who was still so absorbed in his blissful balling that he hadn't even noticed he had company! She felt Donald draw her fat asscheeks apart, and slide his cock between them and underneath to find her swampy pussy. All her nerve endings tingled and she likew she could never, ever, give up sex again. No matter what Henry did or said, she'd never live the way she'd been living, not till she was too old to feel or think or care!
Suzi had been aware of the other couple for some minutes before Henry sensed another presence in the room. First he heard a soft whisper, then a squishy noise similar to the ones he himself was making. In the corner of his eye, he caught a blur of movement. But he saw Donald's head and shoulder first, and his mind put together the wrong information and came up with, naturally, the wrong answer.
Don't know what this is all about, he told himself, or why it's happening in my house. Some teenagers have taken over the place, wouldn't Marge have a fit if she knew. Well, time enough to do something about it, throw them out or whatever, when he'd had his fill of this sexy little doll. He loved her desperately, he didn't even know her name, but she'd restored his manhood to him.
Henry couldn't think beyond that, and really, nothing else mattered to him.
"Fuck me, fuck me harder," Suzi whispered, and he bored down into her quickly and hard.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he chanted. "Fuck, fuck! You're the fuckingest female I've ever seen!"
Donald slid his hard dick down the crack of Marge's ass and upward, somehow, into her wet welcoming cunt. He bobbed in and out a few times until his meat was thoroughly coated with her slimy slippery juices. Then he hauled back and took the organ in his hands, aiming it at the dimpled brown anus. When the cockhead was well situated, the boy took hold of Marge's round hips to keep her firmly in place, and shoved. The tight ring of muscle resisted until she consciously relaxed it, glorying in her ability to do so.
POP! went the sucking squishy breakthrough, as Donald's knob slipped into her chokingly tight hot anal passage.
"AWWWWWWW!" Marge shrieked as she felt her rear passage invaded by the delectable piercing organ.
"Oh, it's so tight, so wonderful," Donald bubbled. "Oh jeezus, baby, I love your butt!"
"Shove it in," she cried hoarsely. "Fuck my butthole, Donald, sock it to me! Ram it in!
GODDAMN YOU, FUCK MY ASS HARDER!"
Donald obeyed, Henry froze, Marge moaned happily, and Suzi grabbed hold of Henry's waist with her slim strong legs. She also reached up and put a hand on either side of his head, pulling his face down to hers in a smacking wet french kiss. Her hot pointed tongue shoved into the man's mouth, exploring and curling around his tongue.
Henry forgot that it was his wife's voice he'd just heard yelling so obscenely. He forgot that and his own name and everything else as well, a moment later. The vivacious young girl, using every trick she knew to engage his attention, not only increased the rapid flick of his hips to drive her nipping little cunt onto his dick. She also released his head and stretched her arms behind his fast-moving hips, slipping her delicate fingers into the crack of his ass. She pressed hard on his asshole with her forefinger, causing Henry to leap forward, driving his cock so deep in her hot little box that she thought it'd come out her throat.
Somewhere in the back of the man's mind was a piece of information he hadn't assimilated and didn't know yet what to do with. Later, his gonads told his brain; think about it later.
Donald sweated over Marge's white back, driving his meat in faster and deeper, feeling that special obscene thrill of knowing he was fucking her shit chute, and that it was tight and hot and clinging like nothing else in the world.
Marge could feel her cum building in her, bubbling up from her ecstatic depths. Then the boy pushed his hand underneath and fumbled his way between her puffy labia, his thumb finding her hot swollen clit. He rubbed it hard, tweaked it between thumb and forefinger, pinched it gently-all without letting up on his furious pounding into her asshole.
"Oh my sweet jeezzus," the woman panted. "Baby, oh baby I'm cumming. OOWWWWWWWWW! RRRUUUUFFFFF! GAWWWWWW!"
Donald clutched her spasmodically, his hips moving in a jerking motion as he began to spurt his steamy sperm into her bowel. "Yeah, yeah, YEAHHHHHH!"
Suzi was the next to fall but she couldn't even gurgle, because Henry's scratchy chin was moving over hers, his mouth covered her little lips, his tongue filled her mouth completely. But she arched and wiggled and twitched, and bobbed her young hips up and down, and curled her toes, and scratched her nails across the man's muscular back.
"AARRGGGGHHH!" Henry released her mouth at last, throwing back his head and howling out his triumph. Even at the most climactic moment, his mind was saying exultantly: you did it! Twice in half an hour, you screwed this girl!
When the four of them finally lay stretched side by side on the living room carpet, panting and sweating and oozing female cream and male sperm, the two adults had nothing to say. In fact, neither one of them could think of a single word to break the silence that stretched between them.
Finally, Henry rose on one elbow and looked at the exhausted bodies, blowing like beached whales. "It is you, Marge," he said in a peculiar voice.
"Yes, dear." Marge stared back defiantly. Then the humor of it struck her and she began to giggle helplessly. "Imagine meeting you here, Henry!"
All four of them broke up then, laughing and gasping at the same time. Henry took a long look, as good as he could in the dim light. He got up and snapped on a lamp, then collapsed into an armchair.
"I don't know what's going on," he said, throwing his hands up. "This is so crazy. It's ... it's disgraceful, Marge!"
"I know it is, darling," she agreed placidly.
"I don't know what's happening," he said again. "I don't even know who these kids are!"
"Oh, excuse me, I forgot my manners," she said, trying to keep a straight face. "Henry, meet my friends Suzi and Donald. Suzi and Donald, meet Henry. My husband."
Henry wanted to be angry, but somehow the laughter kept breaking through. He had such a sense of well-being that it was difficult for him to say the things he thought were proper.
"Will you please tell me what this is all about?" he asked finally.
"Sure." Marge stood up and put on the robe which Suzi'd dropped in the loving scuffle. "But can't we have a drink first? I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm spitting cotton."
"A helluva good idea," said Henry, the typical Navy man who thought either a cup of coffee or a stiff drink could solve most problems, and preferred the drink if he had a choice. Marge had often thought that a stiff jolt of bourbon was the same to a Navy man as chicken soup to a Jewish mother.
Henry raised his eyebrows slightly at the new, lavish array of bottles in his liquor cabinet, and made a mental note to check out Marge's checkbook. But he didn't say anything as he wrestled with the ice cubes and uncapped the bottles. He didn't even raise an eyebrow at fixing drinks for the two obviously underage kids. After all, how could he!
When they finally sat back down in the living room, Suzi and Donald unashamedly naked, though Henry had found time to throw on a robe, the time of explanation was at hand. Marge, having had time to think, had decided that the best defense was a strong offense.
"Now YOU tell ME what this is all about, Henry." She sipped her bourbon-and-soda. "I heard what you were saying to Suzi, before ... uh, before anything else. You thought you were impotent, is that right? And you never said a word to me! You went on letting me think it was my fault, that you didn't love me any more."
Henry was ashamed even yet to hear it said out loud, but he knew the time for evasions was over. "I wanted to tell you, Marge, but I just couldn't. You don't know what it means to a man."
"And it wasn't EVEN TRUE," Suzi put in.
"It was true enough at the time." He looked at his wife, and said, "But what about you? And this boy?"
Henry tried to work up some indignation about the fact that his wife had a lover, and the lover was a boy not much more than sixteen by the looks of him. Home as little as he was, Henry did not even remember or recognize the neighbor kid. If someone had asked him, he'd be ten or twelve years old. But in fact, Henry just couldn't get his anger up. His glow of satisfaction spread throughout his body, and even extended outward to Marge and the others.
Marge had already decided to play it cool. "Men have their young girls. I can't see anything wrong in women doing the same. And as far as having anybody at all, well, you can't expect me to live forever without sex. It isn't human!"
He had to admit she was right although it went against the grain to admit that women had sexual needs too and that there was nothing more incongruous in her and Donald making love, than when he did the same thing with Suzi.
"Okay, okay, I'm not angry," he said. "But I have to admit I am curious. Just how did all this get started?" He suddenly remembered another point, about which he really was prepared to take issue. "And besides, Marge, what about all that booze in the cupboard? And caviar, for God's sake, and pate, and heaven knows what else! It looks to me as if you've been spending MY money to buy yourself some young nooky!"
"I did not! In fact, Donald paid for every cent of that and more. You're a rat, Henry, even to suggest such a thing."
"Come on now, Marge, you expect me to believe that?" He looked at Donald. "Where's he getting it, burgling houses? Now that I think of it, there've been a lot of robberies lately...."
"Dammit, no!" Marge wanted very much to go sit on Henry's knee and cuddle up to his big body. He'd never looked more attractive to her, since she'd seen him making wildly passionate love to teenage Suzi. But she was afraid of being rejected, afraid he'd think she was only doing it to get around him. And of course, the last thing she wanted was to tell her husband that she'd gotten mixed up with a bunch of dope smugglers!
"I swear, sir, we haven't been robbing anybody or ... anything like that," Donald said seriously.
"I'd like to believe that," Henry muttered. He looked around at the bizarre group, and shook his head. "As long as things have gone this far with you, Marge, you surely won't mind if...." He stood up and looked for his clothes. He didn't even remember taking them off! And then he recalled, yes, it was between the first and second fuck, and just thinking that made him grin happily. He found the pile, the once neatly-pressed uniform now wrinkled and crumpled, and reached into a pocket.
"I'm sure you kids won't mind," he said sardonically as he drew out a rather crumpled foil package and opened it. The other three gasped as he displayed the hand-rolled cigarettes inside. "Yeah, Marge, most of the Navy smokes and you may as well get used to it. Even the skipper has a joint or two when he's off duty."
By this time Marge didn't doubt it; she'd begun to believe the whole world smoked marijuana, at least everybody on the West Coast. She had to laugh.
"Okay, Henry, do you have any other surprises for me? And I might as well tell you, while we're at it, that the kids don't burgle houses, they smuggle grass."
"Oh, of course, I should have guessed." He lighted a joint and passed it. "Then you'll appreciate this, it's very high class Vietnamese weed, some of the best."
Half an hour later, Marge said dreamily, "I wonder if there isn't some way we could...."
"Could what, honey?" Henry was well mellowed by this time.
"Oh, have some sort of round robin. Like, I guess you'd call it an orgy, huh?" She was still hot to make it with her husband and this was her round-about way of getting at it.
"Yeah, why not?"
Suzi and Donald looked interested but said nothing. They were both totally stoned, with their own dreams. Suzi was hazily thinking that growing up wouldn't be so bad after all, if at least some adults were like Marge and Henry. She just loved them both! She got up impulsively and kissed Marge on the mouth, a big wet smacker. Then she turned to Henry and did the same.
He patted her saucy behind, and pulled her on his knee. "What do you say, Suzi, shall we get it on?"
Donald was deep in a dream of commerce. He'd suddenly seen the possibilities of getting Navy officers like Henry to bring him back even small quantities of extra-special weed from the various countries they visited. He'd smoke some himself and sell the rest off at a profit. And officers wouldn't be under suspicion the way enlisted men were, they could probably bring him back a bundle!
Marge felt a rumbling inside, a slow uncurling of lust mixed with nervous apprehension. In one way, everything was fine. She'd had all the happy sexuality that was lacking in her life. Her husband knew about it, and wasn't angry. He was accepting her as she was, and that had to be good.
On the other hand, the whole structure of her life had fallen apart and she didn't know what would replace it. Henry still hadn't shown the slightest interest in her. When she suggested they all get together, he'd been only slightly interested. The trouble was, she still loved him, she still wanted to be his wife. If only he could take his retirement in the right way, if only he loved her too, they could have a good life together.
She looked at him longingly, his relaxed attitude, his wide hairy chest breathing in and out slowly, his big hands playing on the slender hips of the little girl. His head thrown back, eyes almost closed, smile on his contented face. He was only a few feet away, but it might as well have been miles that separated them. She knew that if he didn't blame her for his impotence, he at least associated her with it. Marge simply couldn't stand it any more. She slipped out of her chair and crept across the room, and knelt between her Henry's knees. Suzie smiled down lovingly at the older woman, and moved her round bottom, making room. She stroked Marge's satiny white shoulder and puckered up her lips, blowing a kiss.
Marge smiled back. Then she reached for the limp hunk of flesh lying between Henry's thighs, looking dark and grainy by contrast as it nudged Suzie's girlish hip. So all right, his prick wasn't young and smooth and beautiful like Donald's. But it'd kept her happy for quite a few years, nonetheless! She herself wasn't young and smooth and beautiful any more, if it came to that, but the boys still found her attractive and enjoyed her lush body.
She stroked the unresponsive organ, her mouth watering as she circled the warm flesh with her fingers. It began to twitch a bit, to come alive in her grasp. Henry didn't move. His eyes were fully closed by now, as if he were dreaming the delicate knowing touch. Leaning forward so her mop of blond hair fell around her flushed cheeks, Marge put out her tongue and licked the swelling cock.
The round purplish head grew bigger, more swollen, the foreskin pulling back around the coronal ridge, exposing the bright red nut underneath. A drop of clear fluid stood in the pinhole, and she scooped it up on her greedy tongue.
"Ahhhhh," Henry sighed.
Encouraged by his still relaxed attitude, she opened her pretty lips wider and slurped the round odorous red cockhead into her mouth. It seemed to leap right out at her, growing and stiffening in its miraculous way. Suzi looked down with interest, smiling at the spectacle just beneath her nose.
Henry finally moved. Seized by lust and inspiration, certain that this time he could make it, he rose and pushed his wife down on the carpet. "Let's do it," he muttered huskily. "Let's fuck, Margie, right now!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
It took all of Henry's nerve to try to make it with his wife. The thought of another failure was just too upsetting-particularly here, with the audience of not only Suzi, but Marge's young stud boyfriend. And just thinking about that, did for him what he most feared. He was about to shove his stiff meat into his wife's wet eager cunt when he felt-or imagined he felt-his hard-on wilting, melting away, disappearing. He involuntarily glanced down at himself, and to his nervous ashamed eyes he was sure it'd gotten smaller and limper.
"Goddamn it!"
Henry pulled back, just when his cockhead tantalizingly brushed against Marge's puffy labia. She leaped like a beached fish, her hips arching upward as if to grab and contain his joy stick. He couldn't do this to her!
She was about to begin screaming and raving, when she caught the look on his face. Poor Henry! She just couldn't make him feel any worse. Instead she smiled and thought fast.
"You're quite right, darling," she purred. "The old missionary position isn't good enough for us any more, is it!" Her hand snaked out and grasped his cock, feeling the blood surging through it whether Henry believed it or not.
"Let me, darling," she said in her new seductive voice. She pushed at his shoulders until he lay on his back, his hard dick arching up from his loins.
Ignoring the evidence of his eyes, Henry began to say, "I'm so sorry, honey, I just don't know what-"
"Hush now," she said firmly. Crouching on her knees over his loins, his enormous pecker in her cool hands, she pressed its hot end against her wet pussy. He lay frozen with fear and delight, as she sank down on it, enveloping every inch in her hot and squirmy cunt. Marge began to ride him in a steady rhythm. It felt so damn fucking good to have her old man's big dick up inside her again!
She licked her lips, and grinned, and rode him-her hands braced against his chest, her full hips moving steadily and her squishy cunt working on his big organ.
Gradually the man's lips pulled back in a grimace of pleasure. He saw her self-absorbed look, the way she bit at her lower lips, the way she shifted her hips slightly to hit a different spot in her greedy avid vagina. He felt as if he were being used for her pleasure, but it was great and he loved it. Always before, he dimly realized, the responsibility had been all his. He'd had to make the moves, provide the action, see it all through to a successful conclusion. But now, Marge was looking out for her own pleasure. And giving him the fuck of his life as well!
He bucked his hips back up at her lovingly, knowing he'd very much misjudged this dynamic woman. If he'd only had the sense to share his troubles with her, all these misunderstandings could have been avoided!
"Holy cow, look at them," Donald said in an awed voice. The sight of the furiously moving sweating bodies charged him up as nothing else ever had. It gave him a funny feeling, as if he were watching his own parents in the act which they surely performed, but always hid and by omission, lied about. He heard the smacking noises as their bodies came together, and the little moans forcing their way from Marge's throat.
"Suzi, Suzi, where are you?" He groped blindly, unable to take his eyes off his older lover and her hard-fucking husband.
Suzi was equally turned on. She wanted to copy Marge again, as she had before, and she pushed at Donald until the boy lay flat on his back next to Henry. Then she climbed over him and poised her tight little twat over his stiff fat cock.
In moments their two young bodies were joined and the uneven rhythms of the double fucking rang through the room.
"OHHHHHH! URRRGGHHHHHH! OWWWWWW!" Henry shouted suddenly as his cum erupted like a torrent of lava. His jism spurted out, jetted, flowed like a river in flood while he clutched the carpet and gritted hhis teeth in a spam of ecstasy.
"OOOOOOOOOO!" Marge shrieked almost at the same time. "EEEEEEEKKKK!"
"GOD, I WANNA CUM, TOO-HELP ME CUM," screamed little Suzi, hearing their painfully joyous cries, bouncing up and down on Donald's hard young body.
Henry's heart overflowed with love, not only for his wife of all those years, but for the two young people who'd helped him regain his vigor and masculinity. As Marge rolled off him, hardly missing a beat, Henry turned to the younger pair who balled each other an arm's length away. He slipped a hand around the curve of Suzi's pretty little butt, running his forefinger up and down her dizzily moving ass. He found the tiny bud of her anus and pushed his fingertip into it quickly, reaming out her rear end. His other hand came around to clasp her firm tits, thumbing the nipples as he kept her at her steady driving fucking beat, moving with her.
"Holy shit," Suzi gasped. "Sweet lovin' Jesus!"
Marge saw it all and her eyes lit up.
She moved in behind Suzi's back and snaked a hand under Donald's flat hard buttocks. Her fingers cupped and squeezed his balls, feeling Suzi's asscheeks flatten out on top of her hand.
"SWEET HOLY SHIT!" Donald blew like a volcano, spurting into the tight little wet cunt, his hands grabbing the carpet as if to keep from falling off the world.
"YES, NOWWWW! NOWWWW! I'M CUMMINNNNGG!" the little girl shrilled.
Henry leaned back, satisfied. Marge, to her intense surprise, had another delicious little orgasm. "Just from watching them cum," she said to herself.
The four of them showered together. While the house on Daisy Place had a generous-sized shower, it really wasn't THAT big. And so there were soapsuds and warm water flooding the whole bathroom, and touchings and rubbings and caresses of wet soap-slick bodies, and gropings and graspings that were only partly incidental. But they all laughed and talked, and dried themselves and each other with big thick towels. The host and hostess found loose robes for everyone and they all went to the kitchen. The younger couple were, of course, "starving," and Marge admitted she could eat, too.
"Yes," Henry said. "Time out for a snack. And then, for dessert...." He pinched his wife's plump ass. "For dessert, I'm gonna eat Margie!"
They sat around the kitchen table and talked. Suzi, with the confidence of her years, asked just about all the questions Marge had been longing to voice for months...." But why didn't you do something about it, when you couldn't get it up?"
And Henry admitted he'd been too ashamed even to tell a doctor, and they all agreed that could never happen again.
"What about your retirement?" Suzi wanted to know next.
Marge listened, fascinated. Why couldn't she and Henry have talked like this years before? What in the world had kept them from communicating with each other? Stupidity, she concluded with a sigh. The way they were brought up. False ideas about pride, about men's and women's roles in life.
"I don't know, really." Henry was thoughtful as he nibbled on a sandwich. "I suppose I ought to get a job, keep busy."
"But why?"
Marge and Henry looked at each other. "We wouldn't have a lot of dough, honey," he said, "if I didn't work."
"I don't care. I'd rather have you!" she said recklessly. "We can get along on your pension."
"Somewhere warm ... a nice warm island," he said dreamily.
"YES! I'd love it!"
"Well, now that's decided," Donald drawled, "I was just thinking...."
"Yes?" they chorused.
"It's really a little hard to explain. Maybe if we went in the living room, I could show you."
Giggling like teenagers themselves, Marge and Henry let the two youngsters be their guides. The four eager bodies were arranged on the living room carpet in what they had to admit was a most interesting fashion.
Donald lay on his back with his hard-again cock up Marge's swampy hot cunt, while Henry fucked his wife's asshole with astonished vigor. Suzi, who'd felt left out for a moment, squatted over Donald's face while he ate her delicious young pussy. And the next time around, Suzi promised herself, she'd be the meat in the sandwich! The foursome found so many interesting ways to pass the hours that dawn was breaking as they finally snuggled spoon-fashion in the big double bed.
Marge had only one question left troubling her mind. Tired as she was, she had to bring it up with Henry before they went to sleep.
"Darling," she whispered into his ear, "won't we miss Suzi and Donald if we sell the house and leave here?"
"Ummmmm. They'll come and visit us. I'm going to fix Donald up with a lot of suppliers before we go, so they'll have the money to fly out." He yawned. "And besides, darling ... don't you imagine there'll be other young people on our island?"
"Oh, sure, sure." She could sleep then, contented in knowing the fun and games of the past few hours weren't over, there'd be more to come. Their marriage would be happier than it'd ever been, thanks to Donald and his friends.
And to Henry, she acknowledged lovingly. To Henry's renewed capacity to get it up, and to his wonderfully understanding attitude about his needs and hers.
