Throughout history the ugly girl has always been at a disadvantage, but never more so than now, in modern America, where beautiful girls seem to abound. Cosmetics, hair styling, and attractive clothing can make an ordinary girl look beautiful-hence the incredible number of American "beauties"-but for the truly ugly girl they can do nothing. Such a girl, no matter how intelligent, friendly, and eager to please, spends her life being brushed aside in favor of women who are selfish, ignorant, even disagreeable-but beautiful. The sorrow and frustration of the ugly girl can well be imagined. Our novel, The Grocery Boy's Luck, concerns such a girl and represents an attempt to see the world from her lonely vantage point.
Our heroine Polly Perkins is a genuinely ugly girl, but she finally does something about it. After thirty-two years of suffering, Polly obtains cosmetic surgery which makes her very attractive, only to present her with greater problems than before! In spite of her newly acquired beauty, Polly retains her old personality. New and unaccustomed male attention terrifies her, for she cannot get over her old feelings of unworthiness and inferiority. Concerning the so-called "inferiority complex," Sigmund Freud wrote in his New Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis:
"To trace it back to the perception in oneself of some organic disability or other ... seems to us a short-sighted error. The sense of inferiority has a strong erotic basis. The child feels itself inferior when it perceives that it is not loved, and so does the adult as well. ... The major part of the sense of inferiority springs from the relationship of the ego to its super-ego, and, like the sense of guilt, it is an expression of the tension between them."
In other words, Polly's sense of inferiority stems less from her former ugliness than from her feeling of being unloved-although this feeling, one may reasonably argue, must have been caused in part by being physically unattractive. In any case, in spite of her achievement of beauty, Polly is afraid to respond to adult male attentions. She feels secure only with a male who is not threatening, and hence she makes the drastic error of beginning an affair with a mere boy of fourteen. Far from being the innocent child Polly imagines him to be, her lover Mickey displays depths of sensuality and sexual inventiveness which astonish and dismay his much older mistress.
Confused, but unwillingly led on by her own starved sexual needs, Polly wishes to end the liaison, especially when Mickey begins to include his young friends and even his dog in their meetings. But she doesn't know how to make the break. Polly seems doomed to even greater degradation and unhappiness, when, by a great stroke of fortune, her plight is discovered and resolved by a man gentle and understanding enough to win her confidence. Thus our unthinking worship of physical beauty nearly results in tragedy for a basically good woman whose only wish is to love and be loved.
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CHAPTER ONE
All over the city lonely career girls, sitting solitary in their apartments, were watching Marcus Welby on the boob tube. Some were eating late TV dinners, some where knitting or crocheting, and some were applying Kleenex to wipe away a few sentimental tears as they followed the kindly old doctor on his rounds of mercy. All except Polly Perkins. Polly thought Marcus Welby was pure drivel, besides she had a much better show to watch, a veritable feast of erotica which would never appear on the small screen.
Polly sat in complete darkness before the large picture window of her single room, gazing across at the next apartment building, which was separated from hers only by a narrow alley. Directly across the way lived a newly married couple who never remembered to draw their drapes. The husband, Polly surmised, worked some kind of swing shift, for he never got home until nine-thirty at night. Then the show began. Too horny even to eat or have a beer first, the young man would grab his excited bride and begin making love to her. His need was so urgent that they never reached the bedroom, instead doing it on the couch or on the thickly carpeted living room floor. And Polly, hidden in the shadows across the way, would watch it all. With a show like this, she thought wistfully, who needs television?
It had been going on for almost three months now, and Polly had developed a kind of ritual for viewing it. Shortly after nine, she would put on her nightgown and stroll around her living room brushing her hair and yawning, as if about to retire. This was to fool the young wife, who sometimes glanced into Polly's window, too. Polly wanted to lull the girl's suspicions, to make sure she never became self-conscious enough to close the living room drapes. Just before the husband was due home, Polly would crawl into her studio couch-bed and turn off the light, leaving her apartment in total darkness, giving the impression that she'd gone to sleep. Then she would hurry to the big comfortable lounging chair which she had moved directly before the picture window. And there, smoking a cigarette and sipping a drink, she would watch the show across the way.
Tonight was especially good. The young husband was a few minutes late, and the girl was getting anxious, pacing back and forth in the living room and wringing her hands. She always dressed seductively for his arrival, switching from jeans and shirt and hair rollers to sheer sexy nightgown with nothing underneath, brushing out her long blonde hair and letting it hang freely down her back. She had a pretty little figure, and tonight she looked particularly delectable. When her husband was more than five minutes late, however, the young bride seemed close to tears.
Then he walked in, and the girl flew into his arms. Polly could see her lips moving rapidly as she questioned him: why was he late, was he all right? The handsome young man grinned and produced a large bouquet of red roses from behind his back. Stopped at the florist's on his way home from work, thought Polly, how sweet. The girl was delighted. She kissed him, ran to put the flowers in a vase. Her husband watched her with an expression of undisguised lust, and he began taking off his clothes, dropping them in a disorderly pile right there in the living room.
Polly licked her lips as she watched him strip. He had a magnificent body, with broad shoulders, well-defined muscles, and golden matted hair on his chest, arms and legs. Obviously he did some kind of strenuous work which kept him in shape. As the girl returned from the kitchen with the vase of roses, she eyed his body and blushed deeply, but not with embarrassment or timidity. In her supposed privacy, she did not disguise her horniness, and the blush was a sign of her hot arousal. She set the flowers on a small table, then walked over to her naked grinning husband, knelt in front of him, and adoringly touched his white semi-erect cock.
Polly squirmed a little in her chair, becoming excited, too, as she watched her young neighbors. Although it never failed to thrill her, the sight also disturbed her, and she felt her body tensing with sexual arousal and with deep and growing envy of the young bride. Man, she thought, if I could just get at that stiff little dick of his! For though the husband was strong and virile enough, he wasn't particularly well hung. Polly hoped his wife would never have occasion to find that out. Right now she obviously thought her husband was the biggest stud in creation. And he looked plenty good enough to Polly, too. She felt herself salivating heavily as the pretty little wife lifted her husband's pale white penis to her lips and playfully darted out her pink tongue to lick and stimulate the naked glans. Polly wished she were in the girl's place, holding that warm pungent meat in her hands, licking and tasting it. She wished passionately that she was popping it greedily into her mouth as the girl was doing now. Polly sucked her cheeks in sharply and began to make loud wet noises in imitation of the young wife. Yes, that would be great....
The handsome husband stiffened, opened his mouth (no doubt to moan his pleasure), and then seized the girl's shoulders tightly to steady himself. He closed his eyes and smiled blissfully as she sucked his cock in swift, busy motions. Polly could see his golden-haired balls beginning to swell and stiffen, watched him begin to move his hips rhythmically, feeding his eager prick into his wife's juicy hot mouth. The girl meanwhile reached between his legs to cup and fondle his balls, then to tease his anus with mischievous little probes of her little finger. The young man flushed red with lust.
Suddenly he said something to her, and she released his cock from her mouth, grinning wickedly. His meat was swollen and stiffly erect by now, and Polly's eyes widened as she stared at it. Oh, God, what she wouldn't give to have that adorable thing stuck into her! Envy engulfed her as she watched the husband swiftly kneel before his wife and pull off her sheer nightgown, uncovering her lovely little body. Polly thought with some haughtiness that the girl was nearly flat-chested, that her own big tits were much more exciting. But what the hell good did it do her? She wasn't getting any action! She frowned as the husband finished removing the nightgown and tossed it aside. The girl had very small round breasts with dark red nipples, which he now proceeded to tongue and suck. They knelt facing each other, the girl with her head thrown back and her eyes closed, her small mouth half-open in a grimace of pleasure. Polly could see the small dark fluffy patch of her mons, even the rapid panting of her belly. Then the husband eased the girl down onto her back, and she cast him a delirious look of anticipation, spreading her slim legs very wide, revealing the gleaming scarlet of her slit.
Polly held her breath as she watched the young man kneel between the girl's outflung legs, seize his bloated cock, and push the tip out of sight between the hair-fringed entrance to her cunt. Both man and woman shivered convulsively. Then he sank onto her slim white body, seizing her small ass and jamming her hard against him as he effected complete penetration. The girl's mouth shot wide open as she groaned her delight, and then she was wrapping her legs tightly around his back as he began to hump her in swift brutal motions. He buried his flushed face against her neck, so that Polly couldn't see his expression, but the girl's pretty face was still in view, almost grotesque in its grimace of wild pleasure.
Polly started as a huge gush of hot pussy juice steamed out from her cunt to wet her nightgown. God, she was horny! Really, maybe she should quit watching them do it, she always got so unbearably aroused. Yet she couldn't take her eyes from the scene. As she watched the writhing coupled bodies, she fumbled with the hem of her gown, raised the garment up over her belly, and slipped her hand between her legs, gently petting and rubbing her plump pulsing clit.
"Ahhhhh," she moaned softly. Another flood of cunt juice warmed her probing fingers.
The young couple across the way never took more than a few minutes to reach a mutual howling climax. Their need was too great, probably they'd been anticipating it all day. This was the only time that Polly could hear their voices. Even through two windows and the space of the alley, she could hear the girl's shrill bird-like cries, the young man's deep husky moaning as he shot his load into her, as her lovely little body shook and wriggled in her own sweet cumming. Then they lay together for a moment, sweaty and panting and fulfilled. When they had caught their breath, they would always kiss and laugh, then get up and head for the bathroom to clean up. That was the end of the show, for everything afterwards was dull and ordinary: dinner, TV, sleep. With a sigh, Polly went to close her drapes. Maybe the young couple didn't mind being watched, maybe they were oblivious to it, but Polly was always aware of the danger of Peeping Toms.
Well, it was over for them, they'd gotten their satisfaction, but for Polly it was just beginning. Watching them do it, stimulating her own thirsty clit with busy fingers, she'd worked herself into a hot state of need. She knew she couldn't go to sleep until she did something about it, but, shit, what could she do? There was no man to take care of her, and there never would be.
Bitterly Polly made her way to the bathroom, flicked on the light, and looked at herself in the mirror. God, I'm ugly, she thought. I'm grotesque....
Polly had a lush, voluptuous body, but no one ever noticed it. Their attention was inexorably drawn to her face. The dark bushy eyebrows meeting in a sinister line over her nose. The nose itself, enormous and beaky and crooked. The thin lips drawn back over the crooked protruding teeth. Even Polly, who was used to the sight, couldn't look at it very long without drawing away in disgust. She knew what people thought, for they often whispered or even spoke aloud when they thought she couldn't hear them: she was incredibly, classically ugly. A horse, a witch, a rodent ... she had heard herself compared to all of these and worse. Nature had not been kind to Polly, not from the neck up. Her unfortunate face doomed her to ridicule and loneliness.
Polly looked at herself for perhaps a minute, then sighed and turned away. She looked down at her large beautifully shaped breasts, her narrow waist, curving hips, and long shapely legs. She had plenty going for her, she thought bitterly, if anybody would bother to look. But naturally all they saw was her face, and that was enough to stop even the horniest of men.
All but one.
Polly Perkins was thirty-two years old and had been fucked only once in her whole life. It was a delicious memory to her, long and vivid, and she couldn't help dredging it up whenever she needed a man. Once, only once, had she had a man, and she knew it would never happen again. But at least she could relive that moment, even play the scene again with the aid of her imagination and her own willing hands. Now she switched off the bathroom light and was instantly transported back in time to five years ago, when it had happened to her. She hurried to her bed, lay down, and drew her nightgown up around her waist, anxious to play out her memories. She had to satisfy herself somehow. Her eager fingers fluttered over the sensitive pulp of her hot creamy labia, tweaked and caressed her hungry clit, poked mischievously and tantalizingly at the drooling mouth of her cunt. Yes, she would pretend it was all happening again . ...
It had been pitch black, that explained everything. Polly was walking home from work, a dangerous and foolish thing to do in the city, but she'd had no choice. Her boss had kept her late to do some urgent typing, she'd missed the last bus, and she'd stupidly left her money at home, so she didn't have taxi fare. She decided to risk the walk, rather than call a girl friend to come pick her up; no point in disturbing anyone, it was only a matter of twenty blocks. But Polly was not used to walking, and her high heeled shoes began to hurt her before she'd gone half a mile. She decided to take a short cut through the park. She knew it was full of drunks and muggers and perverts, but she trusted to her strength and her ability to scream. She had no money to steal, and as for rape, she thought cynically, all he'd have to do is look at my face, that'd stop him.
She entered the park, walked perhaps half a block, and knew she had made a mistake. There was no moon, the stars were blotted out by a mixture of clouds and smog, and the park lacked adequate lighting. (Two years later, when a teenage girl was raped and murdered in the park, public outrage led to the purchase of arc lights, a little too late for the hundreds of people who had already been robbed, beaten up, and sexually molested there.) Polly could hardly see the sidewalk under her feet, and ahead of her the trees and bushes grew even thicker. Sore feet or not, she decided, she wasn't going through that park. She turned and made for the exit.
The man sprang from the bushes just before she reached the gate. He was so quick and silent that she only dimly perceived his approach, wasn't even sure she'd seen movement until he grabbed her, one arm tight around her waist and one hand clapped over her mouth. He pulled her close against him, and she felt the hardness of his body, heard his ragged husky breathing. There was alcohol on his breath, but he did not stagger or lurch.
"Look down," he whispered. "Look at my hand."
Polly looked and saw the dimly shining switch blade clutched in the hand that held her waist.
"You see that?" he hissed.
She nodded, her blood going cold. She prayed he wouldn't kill her. Her life was not happy or exciting or rewarding, yet she clung to it.
"All right," he said. "Now you're not gonna get hurt, I won't use that knife, if you just do what I say. You got that?"
She nodded again, wondering if she dared bite his hand or try to struggle loose and run away. She decided not to try. She felt his chin butting the top of her head, which meant he was a very tall man, and she could feel the breadth of his shoulders, sense his enormous strength. She wouldn't stand a chance against him, especially when he held a knife. She decided to gamble that he was telling the truth, that he really wouldn't hurt her if she did what he wanted. But what did he want?
He dragged her into a grove of trees where no one could see them, then removed his hand from her mouth and said, "You try to scream, you try to fight me, and you're dead. I don't want you to turn around and look at me, either. You just stand there like a good girl and let me do what I want, and you'll get out of this alive. You understand all that?"
"Yes," squeaked Polly. She was certain now that she wouldn't try to fight him. Something about his urgent raspy voice convinced her that he was a violent, vicious man, not to be crossed. She only hoped he wasn't some nasty kind of pervert who wanted to do some unspeakable thing to her. It would be very hard to stand still for that.
He ran his big rough hands over her breasts which, even under her coat, were stiff and swollen with her fright. "Nice," he murmured, "really great tits." Polly blushed at his language and at his lewd touch. "Take off your coat and blouse," he said.
"Oh, God," whimpered Polly.
"Do it!" he growled.
She quickly obeyed, remembering the knife. The man himself removed her bra, and she felt the cool night air on the tender flesh of her breasts, then the callused heat of his hands as he cupped and fondled the heavy globes of flesh. "Real nice," he rasped.
Polly felt a sudden and totally unexpected twinge of excitement. No man had ever fondled her tits before, and she liked it. Her nipples especially were' responsive to his caresses, sending electric jolts of arousal the whole length of her body, making her cunt puff and cream and grow hot with need. My God, she thought wonderingly, I want him to rape me! She knew it with shocking clarity. No man would ever make love to her under ordinary circumstances. This might be her only chance to find out what sex was like. She felt his crotch growing brutally hard against her buttocks, and again her pussy creamed violently. Yes, yes, she thought, let him do it to me!
He began pushing her ahead of him, toward a fallen log. When they reached it, he whispered huskily, "Bend over. Rest your hands there."
Polly obeyed, wondering at her own heart-pounding excitement. She nearly fainted as the man seized her skirt and flung it up over her head, then snatched her panties and swiftly tugged them down to her ankles. She felt his rough fingers exploring between her legs, investigating her pulpy wetness, discovering the trembling mouth of her vagina. Dear God, he was going to do it, he was going to fuck her, she was sure of it!
"You just hold still, lady," he muttered, seizing her hips to steady himself. "Hold nice and still, and you won't get hurt."
Polly stifled an hysterical laugh. Hell, she wasn't going to fight him now! She'd been waiting twenty-seven years for this moment! No man had ever looked at her before with anything but mocking contempt for her ugliness. Now at last she would discover how it was to be a woman, to be wanted by a man....
"OHHHH!" Polly gasped uncontrollably as he shoved the big stiff tip of his penis into her virgin cunt.
"Christ, your pussy's tight," he panted. "But don't scream, don't make any noise, or I'll kill you!"
Polly clamped her lips shut, stifling the sounds of her excitement as he pushed into her. His cock was very long and thick, the fit breathtakingly tight, but it didn't hurt her. Her own gushing readiness, and years of satisfying herself with her fingers, had widened her untried cunt just enough so that she could receive him without pain. She shivered with voluptuous excitement, gurgled happily in her throat, as she felt his coarse-haired testicles slide to rest against her thighs.
"Ahhhhh, Jesus!" he moaned, breaking his own rule of silence. Then, after taking a deep ragged breath, he began to ball her, swiftly and hard, in the manner of a man who is indifferent to his partner and only seeks to relieve himself of aching lust. But Polly didn't mind his brutality. In fact she found herself enjoying it wildly, her cunt creaming heavily to ease his way, her hips beginning to move instinctively to the rhythm of his deep harsh strokes. If this was fucking, she thought dizzily, she could never get enough of it....
He worked harder and faster, gasping for breath, and she felt his palms growing sweaty on her naked hips. Then suddenly a wild beautiful explosion burst in the depths of her vagina, she could remain silent no longer.
"Ohhhh, God, YES!" she wailed. "Do it to me, yes, yes! I need it, I love it! Ahhhhh!"
The man laughed harshly, and then she felt his steaming cum jetting into her convulsing cunt, intensifying her own orgasm. Just as suddenly, he pulled out and let her fall gasping and panting to the wet grass. Vaguely she heard him pulling up his pants, running away through the park. For a long time she could only lie there, chilled and naked, glorying in the wonderful release she'd felt. Then she began to weep. She knew it would never happen again . ...
Now five years later Polly lay on her bed frigging herself furiously as she recalled that night. Three stiff fingers thrust deep into her greedy cunt imitated the brutal driving cock of the rapist, the one man who had ever fucked her-and only because he hadn't seen her face.
"OHHHHH...." Her moan of climax was loud and hungry, but the orgasm itself was far from meeting her stored-up need. She needed a real cock. Oh, God, how she needed a man! But what man would have her?
Polly got up and went to the bathroom to wash the pussy juices from her fingers. As she did so, she looked in the mirror again, not with distaste so much as exasperation. Her mother, an extremely inhibited God-fearing woman who had never felt a sexual impulse in her life, had always told Polly not to resent her own ugliness but to live with it. God had made her ugly for some good reason known only to Him. For a long time, Polly had accepted that explanation and had tried to be content with her restricted and lonely existence. But not any more. Somehow tonight was the last straw. She had watched the neighbor couple make love and had been forced to masturbate herself, but she could no longer endure these perverse substitutes for the real thing.
She had several thousand dollars saved up for a car. Now she decided to use it instead for cosmetic surgery. Her mother would call it vanity. Polly called it survival. If there was anything to be done about her disaster of a face, she was going to do it. And after that, by God, she was going to get herself fucked silly . ...
CHAPTER TWO
Dizzily, dreamily, Polly woke from the anesthetic, only to discover terrible pain. She felt as if her face had been butchered, not beautified. Vaguely she saw young Dr. Todd hovering over her, close beside her bed. She started to feel her face, but he gently took her hand and moved it away.
"Mustn't touch," he said and smiled. "The unveiling comes in a week. I promise you, Polly, you'll be delighted. It was a very successful operation. Now I just want you to rest and not worry."
She nodded gingerly, wondering if he was telling the truth. She'd been skeptical since the first day she visited his office. Several of her girl friends who'd had nose jobs had recommended him enthusiastically, but to Polly he looked far too young and inexperienced. And with a face like hers ... fixing a nose was one thing, but repairing a whole face was something else. She was prepared to have him turn her down as too difficult a job.
On the contrary, he showed no hesitation at all when she stated her request. "I think we can meet your needs," he told her. "It's not as hard as you might imagine, just a matter of reducing the eyebrows and nose, replacing some teeth. When do you want to do it?"
"Immediately, if not sooner," Polly said and laughed. She didn't share his optimism, but somehow she hoped. Any face was better than the one she had, any improvement would be welcome. And so she entrusted herself to the young doctor and went into the hospital a week later.
An eternity seemed to pass, and finally it was the day for removing the bandages. Polly was out of pain now, impatient and restless. She was prepared for a slight improvement in her looks, ready to go back-to work and perhaps to a little better life. She was certainly not prepared for what she saw when Dr. Todd had taken off the dressing, smiled, and handed her a mirror. She accepted it, prepared for disappointment, and looked at herself. To her astonishment, she saw a beautiful stranger looking back at her.
The bushy eyebrows had been permanently thinned and reduced in size, now arching gracefully over her wide brown eyes, making the eyes themselves look lovely. Her nose was slender, upturned, and perfectly shaped. The buck teeth were gone, replaced by straight small white caps which blended with her own and looked quite natural. Without the crooked front teeth, her mouth relaxed into an inviting bow, the lips full and vaguely smiling. Her long dark hair clouded around her face to create an impression of soft mystery. Yes, it was true, if unbelievable: Polly had become a beautiful woman.
"My God," she breathed.
Dr. Todd patted her shoulder. "Pretty nice, huh? If I do say so myself. Well, that's it, Polly. You're ready to go home as soon as we bring your clothes. Do you want me to call a taxi for you?"
"No," sighed Polly, "thanks, but I think I'll walk." She was ashamed to admit it, but she wanted to be in public, to see how people, especially men, would react to her new face. Never again would they turn away snickering or repulsed....
Dressed and ready to leave the hospital, Polly found herself trembling with nervousness. She forced herself to walk calmly down the wide front steps of the hospital, to stroll casually in the direction of her apartment building, which was about a mile away. It was a lovely warm late spring day, and for a while she was very glad she'd decided to walk. Then the men started noticing her.
"Hey, baby!"
Polly whirled in surprise as she felt someone lay a hand on her shoulder, and she saw a leering young man behind her. She gawked at him, unable to believe he was actually approaching HER.
"You doin' anything?" he said and grinned. " 'Cause if you aren't, we could go over to my place, and-"
"No, thank you!" squeaked Polly, hurrying away from him, her heart pounding. She had seen many other girls subjected to blatant approaches on the street, but this was the first time it had happened to her. In a way she was pleased to be treated like a normal, pretty girl, but on the other hand she felt somehow defiled.
She had gone no more than a block when another man suddenly stepped out of a doorway where he had been lounging and planted himself directly in front of her. As she swerved to walk around him, he reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Say, beautiful," he remarked in an insinuating voice, "anybody ever tell you, you oughta be in the movies? No kidding, I mean it. I've got an uncle who knows a producer, and if you'll come with me-
"Excuse me," said Polly, wrenching loose from his grasp, "I'm late for work." She hurried away, wondering what instinctive knowledge had made her spot the man for a phony. Perhaps it was all those years of watching other girls, normal girls, getting propositioned on the street. Certainly Polly had observed every kind of approach and had studied the girls' reactions. But the funny thing was, even though she herself had never been approached till now, she was shying away from it just as an experienced city girl would do. There was something about these men that naturally turned a girl off. What was it?
Polly hurried on toward her apartment, going much faster now, but she was still unable to avoid the leering eyes and blatant remarks of dozens of men she passed on the street. Most of them merely looked over her body with undisguised lust, but many whistled, passed some lewd remark, or attempted to stop her. Perhaps she should have felt triumphant: at last she was getting the kind of male attention she had always craved. But, on the contrary, by the time she reached the lobby of her building, she was trembling with fright and indignation. She had not enjoyed the experience at all. No, she felt soiled and humiliated by these many animalistic solicitations to sex.
Safe at last in her own room, she hurried to the bathroom and looked in the mirror for a more leisurely view of her new face. It was still there, just as beautiful as it had seemed in the hospital, but Polly's feelings about it had changed. When the bandages were first removed and she had examined her new appearance for the first time, she'd felt intense joy. Now she felt fear and worry. Her new face had doomed her to a lifetime of lewd approaches from strange males. She hadn't counted on that. Was her mother right, after all, in thinking that cosmetic surgery is nothing but vanity, a sin for which a girl must pay? Was Polly to pay, now, by being ogled, pinched, patted and leered at every time she went out?
Polly sighed and went into the kitchen to find something to eat. Then she remembered-the refrigerator was empty. She had cleaned it out before going to the hospital, leaving nothing to spoil. So she would have to go out again and buy food. But she really didn't think she could face another ordeal just then. It was too new to her, she didn't know how to brush off all the determined horny men. She recalled a nearby grocery which delivered, and she telephoned and put in her order, then showered and dressed in a light comfortable caftan.
She had just finished dressing when the doorbell rang, and she went to let in a young boy carrying two big bags of groceries. "Where do you want these, ma'am?" he asked pleasantly.
"In the kitchen, please," said Polly. "You can't miss it, it's part of the living room."
He turned his head and saw the kitchen table not three feet away. "Yeah," he said and chuckled, "I see what you mean." He set the bags down on the table and wiped his freckled forehead with the back of his hand. Already the day was becoming unseasonably warm, and the boy was sweating from his exertions.
Polly took pity on him. He seemed awfully young for his work. "Look," she said kindly, "I have some ice, and if you've got a minute, I'll make some Koolaid. That would cool you off."
"That'd be great," said the boy. "I'm really hot and thirsty."
"So sit down," Polly said. "It'll just take a minute. Let's see, I've got grape and lime and cherry here-which would you like?"
"Oh, gee, I don't care," he said, "as long as it's cold. You choose."
As Polly made the Koolaid, she studied the boy. He was handsome, not pretty, in an ail-American way, with reddish tousled hair, fair skin with freckles, and impish green eyes. "Let me guess," she said. "You're twelve? Thirteen?"
"Naw," he replied, "I'm fourteen. Guess I'm a little short for my age. But I'm strong."
That was true. The boy was short but stocky, and his bare arms were well muscled, his legs looked sturdy under his tight jeans. He slouched in his chair in a slightly defiant manner, typical of a boy who'd grown up in a tough neighborhood and had had to work or fight for everything he wanted. Yet he was prepared to be friendly, too. He smiled and responded readily enough when Polly spoke to him.
"It's afternoon yet. Why aren't you in school?"
"You can get out early if you have a job," he explained. "I gotta work at the grocery a couple hours a day, since my Dad got laid off. Me an' all my brothers have to work."
Polly nodded sympathetically. She somehow felt at ease in his presence, even though he was a male. Something about him distinguished him from the mashers on the street: was it his hairless face and body, his lack of interest in her as a sex object? Whatever it was, he had the body of a young man but not the manner, he did not intimidate her or make her feel frightened. She felt warm towards him. She felt free to run her eyes over his fresh young body, the broadening shoulders, the almost nonexistent hips, the tightly muscled legs and forearms-and his crotch. Somehow her eyes kept coming back to that mysterious little bulge. She wondered, briefly and wickedly, what his cock looked like. She knew from bathing her baby brother, years ago, that preadolescent boys had tiny pink little organs scarcely as big as her little finger. But this boy was a teenager, at least a young one. His genitals would be at a halfway stage between boy and man. She could hardly understand her sudden hot curiosity, but it was there, making her pussy grow warm and tingling. Feeling suddenly ashamed of herself, she took up the conversation again in order to turn her thoughts to something else.
"By the way," she said, "my name's Polly Perkins. What's yours?"
"Michael Green," he replied, "but I don't like to be called Michael. All my friends call me Mickey. When you call up to order your groceries from now on, ask for Mickey."
"I will," she said and smiled.
Polly put a generous amount of ice in a tall glass, poured in the Koolaid, and handed the glass to the boy, who took it gratefully.
"Gee, thanks, Miss Perkins," he said. "This really hits the spot."
"You're welcome," said Polly, her eyes darting again to the inviting little lump of his crotch. She realized with considerable surprise and shame that this boy was turning her on. Strange, she'd certainly felt no such response to the men on the street, even though some of them had been attractive enough. All she felt towards them was fear. But with this boy, Mickey, she felt safe. He wasn't a grown man, he couldn't hurt her. Yet that was just the point: he wasn't a man, he was only a child, so why should the sight of his body arouse her so sharply?
"Let's go sit on the couch, Mickey," she purred. "We'll be more comfortable. Tell me, what grade are you in, and how do you like school?"
She knew it was a dumb question, the kind children hate to be asked, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. And she had to say something, manufacture some small talk to cover her growing confusion and arousal. The boy followed her willingly enough and sat down at one end of the couch while Polly sat at the other. He told her briefly about his school experience, giving the impression that he was bored with education and wanted to get out into the real world as soon as possible. She could understand that. He looked like an active boy, not much interested in books and discipline.
"And I suppose you're a secretary," he was saying. "I mean most of the ladies in this building are secretaries."
"That's right," said Polly. "I work in an insurance office. Would you like more Koolaid, Mickey?"
"Sure, if it's not too much trouble," he said and grinned. "I'd rather be sittin' here drinking Koolaid than be out in that sun."
She smiled and took his glass for a refill. She asked herself, All right, Polly, what are you up to? Why was she keeping the boy here, drawing him away from his work? They had nothing in common, nothing to talk about, and there was even a large generation gap, since she was old enough to be his mother. With a deep blush, she knew: she wanted a man. Yet she feared adult men, could feel at ease only with this boy. It was ridiculous, ludicrous, she couldn't seduce a mere child! Shape up, Perkins, she ordered herself, leave the kid alone!
But she seemed to have the devil in her today. As she returned and handed him his drink, she sat closer to him than before, and she heard herself saying in a low, warm voice, "Well, tell me, Mickey, do you have any girl friends?"
He blushed slightly but replied readily enough, with affected nonchalance, "Oh, sure, lots of 'em."
"Any particular one you like best?" asked Polly.
Mickey frowned, thinking it over. "Naw, I guess not. Girls are pretty much the same, ain't they?"
"Oh, I don't know," Polly said. "Some are nicer than others. Some are prettier than others."
Suddenly the boy was staring at her and turning quite red. His voice came out a little croaky as he said, "Well, you sure are pretty, Miss Perkins! You're the most beautiful woman I ever saw!"
Polly blushed, too. In her absorption with Mickey, she'd forgotten all about her new face. She supposed Mickey was developing a crush on her. And she could use that to her advantage. Pangs of conscience assailed her the moment she thought of it, but somehow she couldn't help herself. She forged ahead along her treacherous course.
"Why, thank you, Mickey," she purred, moving a little closer to him and lightly touching his arm. "What a nice thing to say! I thought I'd appear just an old lady to a young person like you."
"Oh, no, ma'am!" the boy said and gulped, reddening again. "You're really something! You're even prettier than a movie star, and-" His eyes, as if mesmerized, shifted to her enormous swollen breasts which dominated even the loose folds of her caftan.
"Yes, Mickey?" she cooed.
"Well, uh, I mean," he stammered, swallowing hard, "you, uh, sure got a great figure."
Polly laughed softly. "How can you tell? This caftan is so baggy."
Oh, lady, thought Mickey wistfully, I can tell, I can tell! Wasn't she aware that the loose flowing caftan was practically transparent? That he could see everything? Even the dark red nipples on those gorgeous big boobs?
Mickey Green's nonchalant facade was rapidly breaking down. He'd been a grocery delivery boy for nearly a year now, and he'd seen a few sights, but he'd never lost his cool. Many times he'd delivered groceries to half-dressed young women, and he'd gotten an eyeful of bras and panties and legs, but all these girls were married or dating guys their own age, and so they'd shown no interest in him. On the other hand, he'd delivered to older women, real dogs, who'd had a little too much to drink and had tried to kiss him or paw him. It made him queasy, he didn't like it a bit, having those fat wrinkled old hags flirt with him. But his encounter with Polly was something utterly new and unexpected. She was not only beautiful and desirable, she was also coming on to him! Mickey couldn't believe his luck.
Although he was only fourteen, he had been raised in a tough neighborhood and by now knew all the facts of life. What grated on him was that in spite of his knowledge, he was still a virgin. He and his best friends were all virgins, itching to try it, to get rid of their shameful innocence. But he'd never had the chance before. It was true, as he'd told Polly, that he had a few girl friends, but none of them permitted petting below the waist. And of course older women never looked at him, except those old drunks. He probably could have had one of them, but he didn't want them. He wanted a beautiful woman, someone like Polly....
Now he replied to her question, blushing and awkward, "Well, ma'am, the fact is, you can sort of see through that dress."
Polly jumped to her feet, quite red in the face. She'd forgotten that the caftan was sheer, and, even worse, in her haste to get out of the shower, she hadn't put on any underwear. Oh, my God, the boy had seen everything! Even now he was gawking hungrily, eyeing her big white wobbling tits, the dark patch of her mons.
"Oh, dear," she said in a small bewildered voice. She studied Mickey for signs of disgust or contempt-no doubt he thought her an old whore. But in fact the boy seemed as enthralled with her as ever, an almost abject, adoring expression on his freckled face. She saw that his crotch had swollen a little-or was it her imagination? The sight aroused her sharply. Again she wondered how his adolescent penis looked. Impulsively she stooped and seized the hem of her caftan, quickly pulling the garment off over her head.
CHAPTER THREE
"There," she said haughtily, "now you can see my body much better!"
For a very long moment Mickey only gawked. He'd never seen a naked woman before, and the sight almost made his heart stop beating. Everything was so much bigger than he'd imagined. She was a tall woman, to begin with, several inches taller than he was, and her shapely legs seemed extremely long. Her forest of black pussy hair seemed immense and thick to him, her hips wide and fruitful, but what most drew his attention was her breasts, larger and fuller and more beautiful than in his wildest erotic fantasies. Jesus, how he wanted to touch them, to get a fistful of those big melons! He licked his lips, felt a hot stirring in his balls. He started to rise from the couch, then noticed the expression on her face. She looked stern and punishing. Yes, she was chiding him for having looked through her dress in the first place. This wasn't an invitation.
"Golly, ma'am," said Mickey, hanging his head, "I'm sorry. I mean, I wasn't thinking. I just looked." And it was killing him not to look now!
"Oh, so you just looked?" said Polly contemptuously. "Well, you might as well touch, too. That's what you want, isn't it? Come here, then. Touch me if you want to."
Polly, too, was concealing her real feelings, her desperate lust for the boy. She wanted him, but she couldn't bring herself to come right out and say so-it would be too vulgar, too whorish. Instead she was using her authority as an adult to make him do what she wanted. The school-teacherish tone of voice was having just the desired effect, too, making the boy meek and obedient. Blushing, still hanging his head, he got up and walked to her, trembling, and stood before her as if awaiting her command.
"Well," she snapped, "go ahead, touch me! You might as well get it out of your system."
Mickey had his head lowered because he didn't want her to see the wondering ecstatic grin on his face. If she thought she was punishing him, she was full of shit! Or, rather, it was the greatest punishment he'd ever had! Okay, lady, he thought mischievously, if you want me to touch you, I'll touch you all right! Still keeping his face hidden from her, he reached out with sweaty hands and timidly cupped her enormous tits. The flesh was incredibly soft and yielding, the silkiest skin imaginable. Emboldened, sighing, Mickey held the big globes more firmly, then began caressing them.
Polly felt a hot trickle of cunt juice trailing down her thigh. It was all she could do not to moan her pleasure aloud. The kid's hands were sweaty, a little grubby, and very clumsy, but she didn't care. Just the act of having her breasts fondled was enough to send her flying into hot need, to make her breath come in excited gasps. Oh, how she needed this! All her life she had wanted a man to find her desirable, to be able to look at her and want her and fumble hotly at her just as Mickey was doing now. So what if he was only fourteen? She needed him! All her shame and modesty vanished in her urgent desire for the boy.
Mickey wonderingly rubbed her bumpy dark red nipples and watched them stiffen and swell at his touch. Christ, his friends would never believe this! He'd told them plenty of anecdotes before, about seeing beautiful chicks in their underwear, about being felt up by horny old dames-all of which was believable enough. But how could they credit a tale like this? How could they believe that a gorgeous older woman had allowed him to fondle her naked tits?
"Ummmmmm," murmured Polly, unable to hold back her expression of pleasure any longer.
Mickey glanced up at her wonderingly. What the hell was going on? He'd thought she was angry with him, but now she was smiling, her lovely face flushed with enjoyment. So she liked what he was doing! Great, he'd try something more! Kneeling quickly, he buried his face in the thick springy fur of her mons. He wasn't sure just what obscure impulse led him to do it, but he liked it. She smelled of soap and bath powder and something else, a faint musky feminine scent of sex which the boy instinctively identified. Again he felt the hot tingling in his balls. Drawing back a little, he gently opened the furry lips of her mons and discovered the bright red twitching bump of her clit. He had no idea what it was. He'd never looked at a girl's parts before. But he reached out and touched the tiny nub of flesh, rubbing it experimentally.
"Ohhhhh!" gasped Polly, her body wracked with delicious sensations. Her cunt boiled out its juices, her body flushed with hot need.
Mickey drew back in surprise. "Oh, gee," he stammered, "did I hurt you?"
"No, darling," purred Polly, trying to control her heavy breathing. "It's all right, I liked it. But I'll tell you what, why don't you take off your clothes, so I can touch you, too?"
Mickey gawked at her, scarcely believing his ears. It was the invitation he'd dreamed of, the scene he'd fantasized night after night in bed while jerking off. Always he daydreamed of a beautiful older woman inviting him to fuck her, to lose his virginity with her. Could it really be coming true? Well, she hadn't actually said they'd make it, she'd only promised some touching, but that was good enough for him. He knew he should be getting back to the store, that his boss would be furious, but it didn't seem important. Opportunities like this came once in a lifetime, and he wasn't going to pass up this one.
Quickly, fumblingly, Mickey struggled out of his clothes, unwilling to take his eyes off Polly's voluptuous body even for a second. He was almost afraid she might vanish, that this was only a dream. Polly watched him just as intently. She could hardly wait to see the boy naked, to satisfy her wicked curiosity about his young cock. As he removed his jeans and shirt, she saw that his body was quite smooth and hairless, having the burgeoning shape of the adult but none of the brutal coarseness that frightened her. No, he was smooth and pink and pure, delightful to look at. She ached to touch him. Then as he fumbled out of his shorts, she salivated heavily and glued her eyes to his crotch. Her cunt contracted sharply and gushed out more juices as his young genitals came into view.
His prick was perhaps four inches long and rather thin, his testicles rosy little limp bags. Polly cared nothing about size; what fascinated and attracted her was the purity of it all, the hairlessness, the pale white of his flesh. Tiny blue veins traced a faint pattern the whole length of his small shaft, and the tip was a quaint little wrinkle of white flesh. Mickey kicked away his shorts and stood before her blushing but eager. With a moan of lust, Polly dropped to her knees before him and timidly picked up his limp little penis.
She had never touched a man's genitals before. She hadn't even seen them except in a few movies. Now she couldn't help gawking as she laid the tender little finger of flesh in her palm and gently petted it. It was very soft and warm and smooth, yet the pressure of her exploring finger detected a firm core inside. The wrinkled foreskin yielded easily to her touch, slipping back to reveal a bright red moist head with a tiny dark hole at its tip. Polly thought she had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. She wanted to touch him everywhere at once. She moved her hands in eager fluttering motions over his hot saggy little balls, between his trim legs, over the bumpy surface of his anal mouth. But what attracted her most was his floppy little white penis. She returned to it now, lifting it almost reverently to her mouth, flicking out her tongue to taste the cherry red flesh of the glans. She recalled watching the neighbor girl do this to her husband, remembered how many nights she's longed to do the same thing. At last it was happening! With a sigh of lust and excitement, Polly fastened her hot lips around Mickey's limp little tool and drew it slowly into her wet slick mouth.
Mickey gasped and clutched her shoulders to support himself in his sudden dizzying pleasure. Vaguely he recalled overhearing something his older brother had said about this practice. Brian had been talking on the phone with a friend, who had presumably asked him about his date the night before.
"Aw," chuckled Brian, "she wouldn't let me ball her, but she sucked my cock. Man, oh, man, it was great!"
Now Mickey could understand his brother's enthusiasm. Polly's mouth was a velvety furnace enveloping and pressuring his writhing penis, giving him delicious stings of sensation. She sucked rather vigorously, hard and swift, but he enjoyed it immensely. Again he found himself thinking, Oh, shit, the guys'll never believe this! Indeed, he hardly believed it himself. It seemed so incredible that this beautiful older woman was on bended knee before him, sucking his peter like it was candy, her enormous jugs swaying as she worked, the bumpy stiff nipples grazing his knees. His pleasure was intense, and in a matter of seconds he felt his balls swelling up painfully tight, his cock lengthening and stiffening in her hotly sucking mouth.
Polly felt it, too, and her pussy boiled in excited response. His little prick lay limp and yielding on her tongue, then suddenly began to twitch and grow and harden. She sucked it harder, faster, hardly knowing what impelled her, enjoying his light salty taste. She needed him desperately, but wondered if she dared go farther with him. It was one thing to play with him, to touch and taste him, and quite another to ask a fourteen-year-old boy to make love to her.
Fortunately for Polly, the boy's mind was running in the same groove. Much as he enjoyed having his cock sucked, there was something he wanted even more, and that was to lose his virginity. Mickey was wondering feverishly if he dared make this request. Would she be shocked, angry, horrified? He just had to take the chance.
Trembling, he bent down to caress her face, and as he did so, his stiff little cock popped from her mouth.
"I, uh," he stammered, not knowing how to word his request. "I mean, could we--? do you want to--? " Mickey could have kicked himself. His big chance, and he couldn't even get the words out!
Polly wasn't doing any better. The boy was ready and apparently willing, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words, to make a direct request of him. For a moment they simply stared longingly at each other, and then Polly thought, well, to hell with it, I'll just try it and see what happens. What did she have to lose?
With an enticing smile of invitation, she lay down on her back and opened her legs wide. Mickey blushed, swallowed, and gawked at the shining scarlet of her slit. He prayed he was reading her correctly, that she was in fact inviting him to do it with her, otherwise he was going to be in a heap of trouble. But he just had to find out. Sweating with nervousness, the boy crawled between her out-stretched legs and seized his achingly hard little dick, nosing the creaming tip into the hot moist parts between her legs. She didn't resist, only smiled. Great! She really wanted him! The only trouble was, he didn't know where to put it. In spite of all his longing, all his street knowledge, Mickey had no idea where a girl's cunt was or what it looked like. Still clutching his stiffened prick, he poked it around ineffectively, feeling like a fool. It just didn't seem to fit anywhere, damn it all!
It took Polly a few moments to catch on. At first she thought he was just teasing her. Then she realized that the kid was probably a total innocent, that he didn't even know where her vagina was located. She wanted to laugh, but she suppressed it, not wishing to wound his pride. Instead she reached out gently, took the hard little rod out of his hand, and wiggled the creamy sharp tip into the hungry gushing mouth of her cunt.
"Now, push, darling," she whispered.
Mickey gawked at her a second longer, decided it was okay to proceed, and then pushed as hard as he could. The result was immediate and full penetration, a gasp of delight from Mickey, and a howl of excitement from Polly. She was very tight for a woman her age, not too large for Mickey's half-grown tool, and hot velvety friction rewarded the boy, who began instinctively pumping his hips, poking and sawing inside her for all he was worth.
"Oh, God, yes!" shrieked Polly. "Fuck me, Mickey, do it to me, I love it! Ahhhhhh!"
Blissfully Mickey wriggled even tighter between her soft thighs, poking his hungry little cock in as far as it would go, till his sensitive balls flapped noisily against her ass with each fierce stroke. Fucking was great, he felt he could never get enough of it. But both he and Polly were so aroused and excited that their climaxes came all too quickly. Suddenly Polly was screaming and wailing, bucking her big hips so hard and furiously that Mickey was almost bounced out of the saddle. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hanging on as he humped her, his sweaty face crushed against her big heaving tits. Something seemed to explode with fiery violence in his balls, and then he was squirting his cum into her in long, delicious jets, rid of his virginity at last.
As soon as her blissful spasms had passed, Polly felt overcome with shame. My God, she had behaved like a lewd whore, had seduced a mere child! She'd needed a good fuck, that was certainly true, but couldn't she have had the decency to wait for an adult lover? Suppressing a sob of remorse, she said gently to the panting boy, "Mickey, I hate to rush you, but shouldn't you be getting back to work?"
He raised his head abruptly from her tits. "Aw, shit, yeah! I forgot all about it! I better run!" He leaped from her and began struggling into his clothes. Polly lay there and watched him, admiring his body in spite of her heavy feelings of guilt. As he hurried to the door, he looked back at her, grinned, and said, "Hey, all right if I come back some time?"
Polly only gawked at him. She hadn't given any thought to the consequences of her act, hadn't envisioned the possibility that if she seduced him, he might want to come back for more. Oh, dear God, what had she gotten herself into?
Mickey didn't wait for her answer. He was full of pride and self-confidence. Having balled this beautiful older woman into a howling cum, he naturally assumed she'd want more of the same. "I'll be back tomorrow," he told her, hurrying out and closing the door behind him.
"Mickey, wait!" she gasped. Too late. He had gone without hearing her protest.
Polly rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in her folded arms. "Oh, God," she sobbed, "what have I done? What am I going to do?"
CHAPTER FOUR
The next day Polly returned to her secretarial job. The reaction to her new face was spectacular. At first none of her friends recognized her, and then they were full of praise and admiration. She had done the right thing, they told her. Polly wondered bitterly if that was true. On her way to work men had leered at her, made lewd invitations, caused her to feel threatened and defiled. On the way home it was the same story. She was glad to reach the safety and privacy of her apartment. Certainly her new face had turned out to be a mixed blessing; it had brought her "normal" treatment from the rest of the world, but Polly wasn't sure that she liked such treatment at all.
After showering and changing into lounging pajamas, Polly fixed herself a drink and sat down to try to sort out her feelings. Far from bringing her happiness and self-confidence, the cosmetic surgery had brought her a host of new worries. There were long run worries, namely, how to conduct herself in the face of all the leering attention she was getting oh the streets, and there was an immediate worry, what to do about Mickey the grocery boy. Polly decided that she was strong enough to deal with only one problem at a time, and that therefore she would concentrate on the problem of Mickey. Embarrassing as it might be, she decided that the best thing would be to tell Mickey the truth, that she'd been starved for love for a long time and had been unable to control herself when he'd showed signs of wanting her. On the other hand, now that she'd had a chance to cool off and think things over, she did not want to carry on a liaison with a mere boy, a person young enough to be her own child. It would be bad for Polly and bad for him.
This, then, was the speech Polly had ready when, shortly before six o'clock the doorbell rang and she opened the door to admit an eager, smiling
Mickey. She couldn't help noticing how handsome he was, how fresh and inviting, but she hardened her heart against these impressions. She simply wasn't going to let herself get involved with this kid!
"Hi, Miss Perkins," he said breathlessly, "I got here as soon as I could."
In fact, all day, in school and at work, Mickey had been thinking about Polly and about a renewal of the wild pleasure he had experienced with her the day before. By late afternoon he'd developed a hard on that wouldn't quit, and it was all he could do to keep from walking off the job and rushing to her apartment. As she closed the door, he marched confidently into the living room and took off his jacket, then started unbuttoning his shirt, when Polly's cool voice stopped him.
"One moment, please, Mickey. I have something to say to you."
He looked at her frowning, determined face and suddenly felt afraid. What was the matter? Had he done something to anger her? She hardly looked like a woman who wanted to make love.
"Yes, Miss Perkins?" he said nervously.
"Sit down." She motioned for him to sit at one end of the couch, and she sat at the other. Her tone of voice was hard. "Mickey, I realize that after the way I behaved yesterday, it's natural for you to come back here expecting more of the same. But that's not how it's going to be. I hadn't had any. Well, that is, I hadn't had a lover in a very long time, and I just lost control of myself when you were here yesterday, but it won't happen again. If we were the same age, that would be different. But think of it-you're fourteen, I'm thirty-two, which makes me old enough to be your mother. It just isn't right. So what I'm trying to say, Mickey, is that it has to end right now."
The boy had listened carefully as she spoke, and now he replied with all the adolescent diplomacy and charm he could muster, "Well, Miss Perkins, I can see how you feel, but on the other hand, if you stop to think about it, there's really nothing wrong with what we did. I mean, it's the 1970's, right, and nobody believes you have to be married in order to make love. As for the age difference, lots of older men date girls young enough to be their daughters, so what's wrong with doing it the other way around? The point is, we're not doing anything so terrible, and we're not hurting anybody. The only people involved are you and me. So I really don't see anything to get uptight about. I don't think you should worry about it."
This speech was quite an effort for Mickey, who generally didn't care how he expressed himself, and he felt he'd done rather well. There was a flicker of hesitation in Polly's face as he spoke, and when he finished she was silent for a few moments while she thought over his arguments.
Then she smiled rather sadly. "Well, Mickey, the fact is, everything you say makes good sense, for someone of your generation. You live by new and different rules. But I was raised in another atmosphere, and none of these things seem right to me. I just can't help it. I'm sure I'm being old-fashioned and illogical and hypocritical, but that's the way I was raised, and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm sorry, but if I went on seeing you, I'd feel terribly guilty. I think it would be better all around if you forgot about me and found someone your own age."
Fat chance of that, Mickey thought dismally. He had plenty of girl friends, girls willing to go out with him and willing to do a little petting, but not one of them wanted to fuck. It might be years before he found a girl to take care of his needs. He felt he just couldn't afford to let Polly Perkins go. And it was this determination that led him, now, to get tough with her.
"You mean," he said carefully, "that you'd be ashamed of what we were doing?"
"Yes," admitted Polly.
"You'd be ashamed if anybody found out about it?"
"Oh, dear, yes!" she affirmed, blushing deeply. "I'd just die!"
"Well, then, Miss Perkins," he said very slowly and deliberately, "I guess you better go on seeing me, because if you don't, I'll tell everybody what happened yesterday."
His threat hung there between them in the long silence that followed, and he and Polly searched each other's faces, Polly wondering if he really meant what he said, and Mickey looking for signs of intimidation and weakness. He didn't like to resort to this childish ploy of threatening to rat on her-he wasn't really a fink-but he saw no other way of keeping her, and he couldn't bear to let her go.
"Please," she said at last, "try to understand how I feel. Please leave me alone."
"No," said Mickey, almost hating himself for his harshness, but knowing he'd hate himself even more if he gave in and surrendered his chance to make love to this beautiful older woman. He sensed, too, that he should allow her no more time to think things over.
Standing and beginning to unbutton his shirt, he said curtly, "I don't want to be late getting home, so let's move it. Get undressed."
Polly gawked at him, hardly believing the reality of her dilemma and wondering how to get out of it. She was at the mercy of this aggressive young boy. She envisioned how it would be if he told on her, if word spread around the neighborhood. People would snicker and point and cast contemptuous looks at hera woman so lusty and immoral that she even seduced the grocery boy! She couldn't bear that. Yet she couldn't bear to be Mickey's sexual slave, either, it was too degrading.
"Please," she murmured, "don't make me do this."
"Get undressed!" Mickey snapped. He continued to remove his clothes until he stood there clad only in his shorts, waiting impatiently for her to follow his example. Polly could see the eager little bulge in his crotch, and as he recalled her feverish explorations of yesterday afternoon, she experienced a quick flash of desire. It had been wonderful, she'd give anything to repeat that much-needed fuck. But not with Mickey. Not with a mere child!
"Oh, no," she moaned, "I just can't!"
Mickey was alarmed. In spite of his threat, she still resisted him. And he knew he really wouldn't be fink enough to tell on her. There must be some other way. He recalled the events of yesterday afternoon, the way her excitement had risen sharply when he began to touch her. Perhaps that technique would work again. He'd try everything he could think of, for by now he was unbearably horny and felt as' if he would die of frustration if he didn't have her.
"All right," he said coldly, "if you won't undress yourself, I'll have to do it for you."
Polly seemed paralyzed as the red-haired boy moved toward her. She couldn't tear her eyes from the tight pointy bulge of his crotch. She imagined his half grown little cock stiff and ready, oozing impatient cream from its tip, and her cunt contracted sharply and spurted out hot juices of arousal. Oh, God, how she needed him! But she couldn't let herself succumb again to her evil nature.
"Oh, no, no, please . ... " She moaned her protest yet did not move as Mickey seized the rope belt of her lounging pajamas, untied it, and tossed it aside. He swiftly unzipped the garment from throat to crotch, tugged it off her shoulders, and eased it down to her ankles. Polly blushed deeply as she stood before him wearing nothing but skimpy bikini panties, noticing that the boy's eyes were riveted to her huge swollen breasts. Then she gave a squeak of alarm and tried to step away from him. Her feet became entangled in her pajamas, and she fell to the floor, landing on her back, her enormous tits flopping and bouncing with the impact.
Mickey didn't waste a second. He threw himself on her and seized her quivering tits, caressing them roughly and hungrily. Jesus, what great boobs she had! They dwarfed his hands, felt incredibly heavy in his grasp. He buried his face against them, kissed and licked the bumpy red nipples, and then, obeying some mysterious instinct, planted his wet mouth on one nipple and began to suck it loudly and greedily like a hungry puppy.
"Ohhhhh!" moaned Polly.
As Mickey began to suck her nipple, she experienced a blinding burst of pleasure, her whole body quivering with lusty delight. She felt sensation radiating from the nipple down through her body till it reached her cunt, which began seeping its juices in a steady stream. She moaned and began pumping her hips uncontrollably, signaling her need for the boy's stiff and ready cock. She wanted him so badly, it was all she could do not to shriek her demand. But equally strong was her whole upbringing, the morals instilled by her stern parents, which told her that sex was wrong except between married people. Certainly it could not be right between a grown woman and a teenage boy. She could not let him fuck her again. No matter how badly she wanted him, she had to preserve her self-respect. With this in mind, she allowed him to go on playing with her tits, while she carefully worked to get her feet free of the entangling pajamas ... and when that was accomplished, she suddenly rolled out from under him.
"No, Mickey!" she cried. "I won't do it! I meant what I said!"
Mickey eyed her, wondering whether to persist. She was bigger and stronger than he was, and if her refusal was sincere, he could not hope to physically overpower her. He had been so sure, as he fondled and sucked her breasts, that she was weakening, that she enjoyed it. If he could just get his hands on her once again....
Then he noticed that even in her defiance, Polly's eyes were glued to his stiffened peter, which threatened to burst his shorts at this point. She seemed fascinated with it. A sudden inspiration came to him, and he quickly pulled down his shorts so that his stiff little tool popped out, tight-swollen and hugging his flat belly. Polly's eyes widened and glowed, and she licked her lips.
Polly, too, had an inspiration. She sensed that if she sent the boy away now, aching with need, his resentment would grow and that he would make trouble for her. She had to relieve him somehow. But she would not fuck him again, so why not do what the neighbor girl did for her husband? Why not substitute mouth for vagina? Polly felt no hesitation at all. In fact the idea aroused her sharply, and she felt hot saliva pooling her mouth. She just had to play with that adorable little cock, and if she could do it in a way to satisfy Mickey without making the ultimate surrender of her body, why not?
"Darling," she purred, moving closer to him.
Mickey couldn't help grinning. Somehow the sight of his naked dick had changed her mind. He'd remember that in the future. Now he sighed happily as Polly bent over him, her big tits swaying very close to his belly, and gently tugged off his shorts. He lay back submissively and closed his eyes as she began to play with him.
Polly scarcely knew where to begin. Once her decision was made, her arousal had mounted quickly, and she felt an insane desire to touch and taste his superb young body everywhere at once. Gently separating his slim legs, she knelt between them, her erect nipples tickling his belly as she bent to explore his pure naked parts. She noticed that his balls were rosy pink and swollen tight, a delicious sight to her. They lacked the ugly, brutish layer of dark hair common to the adult, and were quite smooth and naked. Spreading his legs a little more, she discovered the puckered mouth of his anus, which, to her delight and surprise, was pink rather than brown. Everything about him seemed so pure and virginal, unlike the threatening ape-like body of the adult male. Scarcely knowing what she was doing, Polly cupped her hands under his small tight ass and raised him, bringing the clenched anal opening up to her eager mouth. She flicked out her wet pointed tongue and eased the tip slowly, sensually, around his pink anal orifice.
"Ummmm!" murmured Mickey. His small cock twitched excitedly, his balls seemed to swell even more.
Polly felt no distaste for what she was doing.
CHAPTER FIVE
His little ass-hole seemed so clean and pure, so inviting. And she liked giving him pleasure. Raising him still higher, she gently inserted the stiff wet tip of her tongue into the tight little hole of his anus, met no resistance, and then thrust in deeper.
"Ahhhhh, Jesus, that feels great!" cried Mickey. He stiffened in her arms, arching his back to maintain his raised posture, as if feeding her his ass.
Polly responded by snaking her stiff tongue as deep as she could into his anus. He was very tight, yet slick and juicy. She liked the sensation, and she began licking and probing without restraint, reaming his tight little tunnel. The boy moaned in mindless delight, pumping his hips now to work her tongue deeper into his ass-hole. Mickey had been a little shocked when Miss Perkins first began to lick his ass, but all his scruples vanished quickly with the intense pleasure she gave him. It might be a crazy thing to do, but it felt great!
When Polly had licked every drop of pungent taste from his convulsing anus, she withdrew her tongue and applied it stiffly to his swollen rosy balls, whipping and poking in a way that made the boy whinny with delight. She wondered dizzily why she liked tasting and tonguing him so much, but the answer wasn't really important. All she wanted was to go on doing it. She obeyed her impulses and bent lower to suck one tight-swollen little testicle into her hot wet mouth, gently pulling the little sac all the way inside, then subjecting it to a swift mischievous sucking.
"Ahhhh, Jesus, yeah!" wailed Mickey. "Suck my balls! Wow, that feels great!"
Polly experienced a sharp burst of excitement at his words. She spat out one testicle and sucked in the other, making the boy writhe and moan with pleasure. She liked the sensation of the hot plump little nut on her tongue. But she was careful not to go so far as to bring him off. She was saving that....
She spat out the second testicle and eyed his cock.
It was swollen almost to bursting, the blue veins standing out sharply, the foreskin forced back from the gleaming red glans. Droplets of cream oozed from the tip, and with a hungry moan Polly lapped them up, loving the salty taste. Then she sucked his little ramrod swiftly, deeply into the steaming nest of her mouth.
"Ahhhhh!" sighed Mickey, the sound almost like a sob. "That's so good! Suck my peter, yeah!"
Again his lewd words excited Polly to more vigorous action. She drew her cheeks in as tight as she could, trapped his achingly stiff little dick against her slick palate with her powerful tongue, and began to suck him without restraint, swiftly, loudly, so that obscene slurping noises filled the room. She hadn't realized till then just how much fun it was to suck cock, and she felt she could have gone on forever. Her pussy creamed wildly as she worked, and she felt hot rivulets of cunt juice streaking down her inner thighs.
"Ghhhhh! Yeah, yeah!" Mickey wailed, pumping his hips furiously to feed her his eager dick. Vaguely he recalled that he had come here to fuck this woman, yet it didn't seem important now. He could think of nothing but the incredible pleasure of having his cock sucked. She had the whole thing in her mouth, right down to the root, and with each powerful suck, his balls slapped deliciously against her soft chin. Her mouth was fiery hot and wonderfully wet and slick. He had never felt such blinding joy in his whole life. Suddenly, however, he realized that he was very close to cumming, and he wondered if she'd be angry if he shot in her mouth. It was something he'd never considered before.
"Aw, shit, Miss Perkins," he gasped, "it's so good, I'm gonna cum!"
That was all he could do to warn her. Further words failed him, and he lapsed into delirious moaning. Having him cum in her mouth was something Polly hadn't considered, either. Of course it was the logical conclusion to what she was doing, but she simply hadn't thought it through. Did she want it to happen? Still sucking him loudly and swiftly, she decided that she did. Nothing about this handsome young boy was distasteful or nasty to her. Everything about him excited her powerfully. She intensified her sucking, and he began to whimper and stiffen as he approached his climax.
"Ah, God, yeah, yeah," he moaned, his face twisted in a grimace of pleasure. "Gonna cum, ahhhh, AHHHHHH!! ! "
Suddenly Polly felt her throat splattered with thick hot cream, one jet after another. She obeyed her hungry impulse to swallow each blast, and even when his moaning climax had finished, she was still sucking his shrinking little cock, lapping up every last drop of his cum. The depleted limp organ slipped from her mouth, and she greedily licked her lips of the final droplets.
Mickey lay limp and flushed before her, grinning ecstatically. His cock seemed very tiny now, lying soft and shrunken against his belly, rosy from her sucking.
"Oh, man!" he said and sighed. "That was wonderful!"
Only as he expressed his obvious satisfaction did Polly realize that she was still violently horny. It had been wild fun sucking his cock, but it hadn't done a thing for her, so far as the aching need in her cunt was concerned. Well, she thought wearily, that's the price I have to pay for my self-respect. She had resolved not to fuck him again, and so she would just have to endure her horniness. With a sigh of frustration, she flopped down on the carpet to rest from her exertions.
"I suppose you ought to be on your way, Mickey," she said gently. "It's getting late."
Reluctantly he consulted his watch. "Yeah, I suppose so," he replied without enthusiasm. Even though she'd brought him off, he hadn't gotten enough of her. The sight of a naked female body was still a novelty to him, and he longed to explore her at his leisure, to learn all the secrets of her special anatomy. He propped himself up on an elbow so he could study her. She lay on her back, giving him a good view of her gently rising and falling tits, mountainous on her chest, the dark red nipples stiff with desire. The fluffy dark patch of her mons seemed to stand out, too, attracting his attention. That was where he really wanted to explore. He'd hardly gotten a look at it yesterday. Moving slowly, so as not to alarm her, Mickey eased over to her and knelt beside her ample hips, gently petting the soft mons fur, then parting the hair-fringed lips for a look at her concealed parts.
"Mickey . ... " It was a soft protest, with little force behind it. Somehow Polly felt a complete lack of strength and will. She had satisfied the boy, she assumed he would leave soon, but she could do no more. His gentle, timid touch was pleasant, and as he laid his fingertip on the quivering bud of her clit, she sighed and opened her legs, giving him room to explore.
Mickey took the opportunity to kneel between her legs, gently urging them wider apart. Now he could see everything, all those mysterious female parts. It was intricate and confusing, a field of glistening crimson folds of flesh whose function he did not know. Again he pressed and nudged the fat little nub of flesh and noted how she responded with happy sighs and a little jerk of her hips. So she liked to be touched there, but what about all these other places? He ran his fingers lightly along her labial folds and got the same response, Polly sighing and squirming. Emboldened, he searched for her cunt, that slick hot little tunnel where he had so happily buried his virgin cock the day before. After some searching, he found it, snaking a finger deep inside and marveling at its heat and velvety softness.
"Ohhhhh---" moaned Polly. The intrusion of his finger was like receiving a miniature stiff prick. She realized how desperately she needed to be fucked, and she was glad that she'd gotten rid of his erection by sucking him off, otherwise she would not have been able to refuse him now.
Mickey noticed how much she enjoyed the penetration of his finger, and he began to move it like he'd moved his prick the day before, stiffly and swiftly in and out. Polly responded as she had then, gasping with delight and then beginning to pump her hips in time to his strokes. Mickey felt a sudden sense of power, knowing that he could drive this beautiful older woman into a mindless frenzy of pleasure merely by moving his finger in and out of her cunt. He began to work faster . ...
"Oh, God, yes...." whimpered Polly. She knew her behavior was lewd and whorish, but she simply had to have it, had to let him finger-fuck her this way. It was better than nothing. Somehow she had to appease her stored-up need. She blushed deeply with shame, unable to meet the boy's eyes. But she didn't tell him to stop.
Mickey was amazed at the way her vagina kept squirting its hot cream. The more he poked, the wetter and hotter she got, till she was almost burning his probing finger. He could tell she needed it, loved it, and he only regretted that he didn't have a stiff dick to shove in there. He would love to ball her again . ...
Suddenly, as if hearing his silent prayer, his prick twitched and began to stiffen. He felt excitement in his balls, a slow swelling in his cock. He was amazed and delighted that he could get hard again so fast. But he knew Polly's resistance to fucking, and he said nothing, waiting patiently till he was in full erection. He wasn't going to warn her!
"Oh, darling, yes, how nice!" Polly gurgled. She hated herself for voicing her need so blatantly, but she couldn't help it. And after all, she wasn't really surrendering. She was keeping her vow, letting him use only his hand. The delicious poking went on and on, and Polly closed her eyes to concentrate on enjoying it. Then, to her disappointment, he withdrew his finger, leaving her cunt empty and aching.
"Ohhhh, put it back!" she pleaded, without opening her eyes. "Just a little more, make me cum, please, Mickey!"
"Sorry," he said and chuckled, "I slipped. Here, I'll put it back in."
Polly sighed happily and waited. In a moment his finger was in her again, feeling greater than ever. In fact it seemed bigger, longer, and somehow different. Much as she enjoyed it, Polly felt sudden alarm. Opening her eyes, she stared down and saw that Mickey had his hands planted on either side of her hips, supporting himself while he happily probed her. He wasn't using his finger at all, the little bastard, he was fucking her!
"No!" cried Polly, jerking out from under him. Sure enough, he had another erection, just as stiff as the first one, his frantic little white cock standing straight up and glistening with her abundant cream. "Mickey," she cried indignantly, "I told you, I won't do it! It was a mistake the first time, and I'll never fuck you again! You've had your fun, young man, now get dressed and get out of here, and don't come back!"
She leaped to her feet and began dressing, her eyes blazing angrily. Mickey was angry, too, at having his fuck interrupted, but he could tell by her expression that she would not be moved. He had exhausted all tricks, all power of persuasion. Damn it all, if only he could've gotten his rocks off before she'd noticed the substitution of cock for finger! It was so silly, anyhow, what did she have against it?
"Aw, come on, Miss Perkins," he whined helplessly, "don't leave me like this! What difference does it make whether I use my finger or my peter? I don't understand."
"It makes a big difference to me," snapped Polly, "but you're right, you wouldn't understand! Now get out of my apartment!"
She really meant it. She was sore as hell, and she was a lot bigger than he was. Mickey gave it up. Pouting, shaking with anger and frustration, he dressed, stalked out, and slammed the door behind him. By God, he'd get even with her for this! He'd make her sorry if it was the last thing he ever did! As he sullenly made his way home, the boy began to plan his revenge . ...
When Mickey left, Polly first experienced relief, but it was quickly succeeded by despair and anguish. Even if she hadn't let him fuck her, she'd disgraced herself again, behaving like a slut. She hadn't sucked him off just to get rid of him, she knew that now. Hell, she'd enjoyed every second of it, even swallowing his cum! And when he'd frigged her with his finger, she'd opened her legs like a whore, shamelessly voicing her pleasure. She couldn't kid herself any longer. She'd wanted him desperately, and if he hadn't played that trick on her, trying to fuck her, she'd have let him masturbate her to climax. That was a measure of her terrible lust, that she could willingly have let a fourteen-year-old boy bring her off with his finger . ...
Sobbing in shame, Polly lay down on her bed and tried to calm herself, but it was no good. She was achingly horny, she had to have some relief. She knew that if she pressed and rubbed her clit a few times, she would cum, but it would be a weak unsatisfactory climax compared to what she could get from a man's cock. What she needed was the real thing, a thick, long red-hot length of meat to impale and probe her, a genuine fuck. And she knew that if she stepped out on the street right now, she could find a willing partner in a matter of minutes. But the thought disgusted her. She didn't want some brutish hairy male humping over her like an animal. She wanted someone clean and smooth and pure-like Mickey....
"Oh, damn!" she exclaimed out loud. What was the matter with her? She'd never dreamed that her sexual inclinations were in any way perverse or abnormal. For so many years, when men avoided her because of her ugliness, she'd simply wanted to be fucked, to have a man. But now that it was possible, now that it had actually become easy, she found herself terrified and repelled by the idea of submitting her body to an adult male. She felt at ease only with Mickey, who was no more than a child. Quite definitely, there was something wrong with her.
But at the moment that was irrelevant. What mattered was her desperate horniness. Without shame now, Polly rose from her bed and went to the closet. She opened the door and observed the row of drab dresses, blouses and skirts, all in shades of brown and black, which she'd worn in her ugly days in order to be inconspicuous. She'd get rid of those clothes soon, along with all the other remnants of her old life-with perhaps one exception. Standing on tiptoe, Polly reached to a high shelf and took down a small cardboard box which she carried back to the bed. She opened the box and from folds of tissue she lifted out a white cylindrical vibrator. It was seven inches long and two inches in diameter. Polly blushed as she removed the machine from its nest of tissue. It was an old and familiar companion, her frequent means of satisfaction during all the long lonely years without a man, yet she could never touch it or look at it without a deep sense of shame. Was she, then, so whorishly lusty that she needed a machine to satisfy herself? Of course she knew the answer.
With a sob, Polly lay down on her back, drew her legs up, and gently inserted the vibrator into her cream-soaked cunt. She gave a gasp of pleasure as the cool instrument slowly stuffed her, sending delicious sensations of friction through her pelvis. It was as big as any cock, just as stiff and long. It would have been better to have a real man holding her, his body hot against hers, but for lack of the real thing, the vibrator could do the job much better than her fingers. She creamed heavily and hotly as the stiff tip of the instrument nosed softly home against her womb. Then, shivering with delighted anticipation, she pressed the button and turned the vibrator on. Immediately a swift strong buzzing filled her cunt, and she began gurgling her pleasure.
"Ohhhhh, yes, YES!" Polly babbled. "Ummmmm, yes, so good, OOOOO!"
In less than a minute she began to shriek and toss her long legs high in the air as the vibrator buzzed her into an intense orgasm. Her vagina went into rhythmical contractions, long and powerful, which forced the vibrator from her cunt, but even as the little machine shot to the end of the bed, her climax continued. She lay for awhile in a blissful half-faint before reality began creeping back upon her. Then, realizing what she had done, she began to sob.
"What's the use of having a pretty face," she asked herself, "what's the use of being beautiful, if I still have to do this to myself?"
CHAPTER SIX
The next day was Saturday, and Polly slept in, waking somewhat refreshed and more determined than ever to have nothing more to do with Mickey. If she was to have a lover-and God knows she needed one!-it would have to be someone her own age. And if she couldn't bring herself to accept the attentions of an adult male, then she would simply take herself to a psychiatrist, whatever was required to straighten her out and enable her to live a normal life. For Polly was convinced that her affair with Mickey was sick.
Accordingly she spent Saturday morning cleaning her apartment, singing to herself, and occasionally peeking into the mirror for another look at her beautiful new face. Now that she'd made her decision, she felt cheerful; somehow she sensed that things would turn out all right after all, and that her new face would eventually bring her the happiness she sought....
Polly might not have felt so confident if she had known what Mickey was up to that Saturday morning. Still bent upon revenge for her rejection of him, the boy had risen early and rounded up his two best friends, Bobby and Tommy, intending to use them in a scheme of punishment he had devised. Mickey led his two friends to a neighborhood park, where they could confer in privacy, and then revealed everything to them.
"How would you guys like to get laid?" he asked, green eyes glittering impishly.
Bobby and Tommy gawked, then laughed in disbelief. "Aw, come on, man!" Tommy said and laughed. "You're putting us on!"
"Nope," said Mickey confidently. "And you haven't answered my question. How about it, are you game?"
"Jeez, yes!" replied Tommy, a tall blonde boy. "I mean, if you can really come through."
"I can," said Mickey. "How about you, Bobby?"
Bobby, a short dark boy, grinned and shuffled his feet. "Well, sure, man. Tell us about it."
"Well," Mickey began gleefully, "you remember that big apartment building on the other side of the park? The one were all the good-looking secretaries live?" The other two boys nodded intently. Many times they had watched the girls coming home from work to this building, gawking at legs and bouncing tits, hoping for a good breeze and a glimpse of panties or stocking tops. "Well," Mickey continued, "Last week I was making a delivery to one of those broads, Perkins is her name, a real looker and really stacked. She got the hots for me, and I made it with her. Then the next time I showed up, she got the guilts, wouldn't let me do it again, but I don't intend to let it go at that. I thought we'd all go up there today and kinda, uh, talk her into it."
Bobby and Tommy looked doubtful. Just as virginal and inexperienced as Mickey had been a few days ago, they tended not to believe his story, and they feared getting into trouble. "I don't know, man," said Tommy. "Sounds like rape to me.
"Aw, no!" chuckled Mickey. "Lissen, she really wants it, believe me. Even yesterday, when she wouldn't let me fuck her, she sucked my cock and let me stick my finger in her cunt." The last word, rarely used anatomically among their crowd, electrified Mickey's friends.
"You mean you actually touched it?" asked Bobby wonderingly.
"Yeah, I touched it, I even got my dick in it," said Mickey proudly. "That's the whole point, see. She let me do it once, so why shouldn't she let me do it again? Where does she get off, being so snooty? I figure with the three of us holding her, she won't have much choice." Again he noticed the hesitation in his friends' eyes, the reluctance to risk trouble, and he went on persuasively, "Wait'll you see her! Oh, wow, is she built! The biggest knockers you ever saw, and you'll get to touch them, too . ... " He let the suggestion hang there, tempting them.
"Well," said Tommy, his voice coming out a little croaky with excitement, "we could go check it out."
"Yeah," said Bobby, "just go up there, see how she reacts, see if it's okay."
"Sure," purred Mickey, "we'll just go have a look. I don't want to rush you guys into anything...."
Polly was busily and happily cleaning out her closet in preparation for buying new clothes. All the drab, ugly dresses would have to go, she decided, because from now on she was going to wear bright-colored sexy clothes. She had no reason to hide from the world any longer. Relentlessly she took the old things from the closet and threw them in a pile on the bed, making up a bundle for the Salvation Army. The clothes were suited to a much older woman anyway. Then, at the back of the closet where she hadn't noticed it at first, Polly found a garment she'd almost forgotten. She greeted it with a smile, half sad and half amused. It was a black lace negligee, very sheer and very skimpy, which she'd once purchased in an optimistic mood, the idea being that if any man saw her body in that outfit, he wouldn't notice her face. It might have worked, if she'd even been able to get a man up to her apartment to model it for him.
Now Polly couldn't resist trying on the negligee.
With her new face, she really ought to look devastating in it, she decided. Quickly she shucked all her other clothes and slipped the filmy black garment over her head, letting it fall softly into place around the voluptuous curves of her body. She went to the full length mirror on the back of the closet door and looked at herself.
"Oh, wow," she said and grinned, "too much!"
This was no exaggeration. The negligee clung to every curve, and the dark twin spots of her nipples were teasingly revealed, along with the triangular shadow of her snatch: the effect would, indeed, have been too much for any man. It was overkill. Polly laughed delightedly and was just about to remove the garment when the doorbell rang.
"Damn," she muttered, going to the door. She opened it just a crack, so her visitor could see only her face. She didn't want to risk rape! To her annoyance, it was Mickey, and he had two other boys with him, one tall and fair, the other short and dark, but both of them around Mickey's age, very young teenagers. The three boys were grinning and nudging each other.
"Mickey," she said sternly, "I meant what I said: I don't want to see you again. Go away."
Casually Mickey laid a hand against the door and said, "Aw, come on, Miss Perkins! We just stopped by to say hello." And abruptly he gave the door a sharp push which sent Polly reeling backwards. Before she could recover herself, the three boys were in the room. All of them were gawking at her as if they'd never seen a woman before.
Certainly Mickey had never seen her looking so beautiful, so tantalizingly sexy. It made him want her desperately and strengthened his resolve to have her even if it involved the use of force.
Tommy stared goggle-eyed at her enormous breasts, which loomed heavy and white through the filmy material of her negligee. He longed to touch them, play with them.
Bobby's dark eyes were glued to the little dark triangle of her mons fur. He reddened and licked his lips.
"Get out of here!" Polly hissed. Her vehemence made her big tits wobble, only increasing the boys' excitement. "Get out of here, or I'll call the police!"
"Oh, yeah?" Mickey said. "And what'll you tell them? That you fucked me one day and sucked my cock the next day, but you just don't feel like it now?"
Polly turned a dark red as he made the incriminating statement before his two grinning friends. The little bastard! He'd told them everything, and now had obviously brought them around to share the fun! Well, she wouldn't stand for it!
"You make all the threats you like," she snapped, "but you'll get nothing from me!"
Mickey shrugged, then turned to his pals and said casually, "Neither of you guys has ever fucked before, right?"
"Right," Bobby said, "and I bet you haven't, either."
"Oh, yes, I have," replied Mickey, "and I can show you just how it's done, if you hold her for me.
Polly paled and began backing away. Now that she knew Mickey was prepared to use force in order to have her, she was terrified, yet she wasn't entirely witless. If she could reach the bathroom and lock herself in, she'd be safe. She edged away very slowly, not wanting to give away her intention.
"Golly, I don't know," Tommy was saying. "If you hold 'em down, it's rape, isn't it?"
"Not if they like it," said Mickey. "And believe me, she'll like it."
Finally his two friends nodded their agreement and turned toward Polly. She broke into a run, heading for the bathroom.
"Get her!" yelled Mickey.
Her hand was on the knob, but she didn't have time to get inside the bathroom before rough little hands seized her arms and dragged her back into the living room. She began to sob with fright and helplessness. Mickey alone could have fended off, but the three boys combined were too strong for her.
"Oh, please," she wept, "don't do this!"
"Can it!" snapped Mickey. "You liked it well enough the first time, so don't put on an act now. Just shut up and cooperate." He looked around the room, then said to his companions, "Make her lean over that chair. Here, I'll show you."
Under Mickey's instructions, Bobby and Tommy dragged her to the big lounging chair and forced her to face it and lean over, resting her hands on the arms of the chair. In this posture her ass was raised, her genitals unprotected. Rubbing his hands together in happy anticipation, Mickey nodded his approval.
"Okay," he said excitedly, "just hold her arms now, make her stay like that. I'll show you how to fuck."
"Mickey, no!" wailed Polly, but none of them paid her any attention. She had ceased to be a human being to them and had become only an object of their pleasure. Even the blonde boy, Tommy, who at first had hesitated about forcing her, now seemed to have forgotten all his scruples as he watched Mickey's leering preparations for the act of sex.
The red-haired ringleader had unzipped the fly of his tight jeans and was drawing out his erect little cock. The very thought of fucking Polly had gotten him plenty hard, and now a few jerks of his hand completed the job, making his half-grown tool sharp and stiff and ready. While his friends admired his hard-on, Mickey stepped behind Polly and raised her negligee up around her waist, exposing her wide, firm, white buttocks and the hair-fringed scarlet folds of her vulva.
"Wow," exclaimed Bobby, as he and Tommy craned for a look while keeping a tight hold on her arms, "so that's what it looks like!"
"Where's her cunt?" asked Tommy.
Mickey obligingly demonstrated by poking a finger in the proper orifice. His two friends gasped in wonder as the finger disappeared, then appeared again glistening with her juices. "That's the place," Mickey said, "and now I'm gonna stick my cock in it!"
"Our turn next, right?" asked Bobby eagerly.
"Sure, sure," said Mickey, intent now on aiming his stiff little cock at the proper target.
Meanwhile, discovering that her tears and protests did no good, Polly was struggling to escape from her degrading, exposed posture, but Tommy and Bobby held her arms and shoulders firmly in place. Desperately, she began to move her hips back and forth, spoiling Mickey's aim and making it impossible for him to penetrate her.
"Dammit, hold still!" he cried, seizing her swaying hips and gripping them painfully tight. Polly had more trouble moving then, though she continued to struggle as Mickey began to hammer his little ramrod against the tender folds of her labia.
"Ohhhhh, no!" she wailed. "You're hurting me!
OH!" The last cry was sharp and surprised, for with one savage and lucky stroke, Mickey succeeded in plunging his stiff penis directly into her cunt, driving all the way in till his smooth little balls slapped loudly against her thighs. "Ohhhh, God!" wept Polly.
Mickey sighed and snuggled as tight as possible between her legs, holding her firmly around the waist now. "There," he panted, "I'm in! Now watch!"
His command was superfluous, of course. Bobby and Tommy watched pop-eyed as their friend's stiff white shaft began to move swiftly in and out of Polly's violated cunt. In their excitement and envy, both boys began to get erections, and their horniness further manifested itself as they fumbled for Polly's tits even while watching the action at the other end of her shapely body. She felt the negligee torn and pulled aside, felt hot sweaty little hands cupping and squeezing her huge tender melons which dangled and swayed from her chest under the force of Mickey's steady humping. It seemed, then, that every inch of her body was to be violated, nothing left sacred or untouched.
She moaned her humiliation, yet at the same time she counted herself lucky. It didn't hurt, it wouldn't injure her. All she had to do was endure it-first Mickey's attack, and then undoubtedly assaults from the other two boys. Thank God they weren't grown men! Full-sized cocks in her dry, unwilling cunt might have torn her, but Mickey's teenage prick was butting away harmlessly.
"Oh, man!" Mickey panted. "It feels so good!"
"Yeah, I'll bet!" replied Tommy somewhat angrily. "So hurry up, man! We want to do it, too!"
"Yeah," chimed in Bobby, feverishly caressing Polly's left breast, "you gonna take all day?"
"It's no fun if you just pop off," Mickey countered, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. "You gotta take your time, really dig it."
The fact was, though he would never have admitted it, that Mickey was a little intimidated by having an audience and was having a hard time getting his rocks off. He enjoyed fucking Polly, and he was proud to be able to put on such a show for his friends, but he was also nervous. And she was dry and resisting. If only he could do something to make her hot and slick, like she'd been before! Suddenly an idea came to him. With one hand he reached between her widely separated legs and fumbled in her little fur patch till he found her clit. The tiny organ was dry and limp, testifying to her lack of response. But as Mickey began to circle it teasingly with the tip of his finger, a sudden change came over Polly.-
"Ohhhh!" she moaned. Damn the kid, he really knew how to get to her! His steady stiff poking was already feeling plenty good, and now his mischievous teasing of her clit was arousing her sharply. She didn't want to surrender to him, didn't want to show any signs of enjoying his rape, but the steady stimulus of her sensitive clit was just too much. To her deep shame, she felt her pussy creaming hotly.
"Ahhhh!" Mickey sighed. To his relief and delight, he felt her cunt juices squirting out to bathe his deep-probing cock, making her little tunnel slick and velvety. Her clit was swollen and wet by now, and he seized it between two fingers and rubbed it steadily, which made her vaginal juices all the more abundant. He felt the helpless movement of her hips, knew he was turning her on.
"Hey, Miss Perkins," he taunted, "you really like it, don't you?"
Polly moaned loudly, not giving him the satisfaction of an articulate reply, but still unable to stifle her sounds of pleasure. She knew she was perilously close to total surrender, her scruples vanishing rapidly as her pleasure increased. Tommy and Bobby were fondling her tits ever more feverishly, and this was sufficient to push her over the edge. The delicious touch of their hands on her sensitive bare breasts, the steady banging she was getting from Mickey, his wicked finger play on her clit, all combined to raise her suddenly into a powerful flight of orgasm.
Mickey leered triumphantly as the beautiful older woman began to shake and writhe beneath him in uncontrollable paroxysms of climax, shrieking her intense pleasure and clawing the arms of the chair. He signalled for his two friends to let go of her, and they hurried around behind her to get a better view of Mickey's stiff white cock pounding in and out of her creaming hole.
His plunging cock writhed and twitched as he shot out his cum, his friends watching enviously. When he had finished, he pulled out abruptly, rested his hands on his hips, and began strutting around the room proudly, his limp little cock dangling gaily. "See," she said and grinned, "just like I told you, she wanted it!"
Polly slipped slowly to her knees, a thick white stream of cunt and cock juice trailing down her thighs. She was thoroughly ashamed of herself, yet at the same time she was still dizzy and flushed from the mind-blasting pleasure Mickey's fuck had given her. Nothing beats fucking, she thought deliriously. She realized that she would now have to submit to the other two boys, but somehow she no longer cared. Her fright and repugnance had vanished, and she felt lazily resigned to whatever might happen.
"Well, go ahead," Mickey was saying to his friends, "she's all yours."
Polly didn't turn around to look at them. She heard excited loud breathing, and she could easily imagine the painful combination of horniness and hesitation which was working on Bobby and Tommy at that moment. They were virgins, dying to try their prowess with her, yet they were intimidated by an adult woman.
"Gee, I dunno," Tommy said. "I mean, I don't know what's the matter, but I lost my cock stand. Look at that." More silence, and then Bobby's voice:
"That's funny, the same thing happened to me. It was real hard when Mickey was doing it to her, and now it's all soft again, see?"
Polly knew the boys were comparing pricks, and this set her imagination and curiosity to working. Would they be as large as Mickey? Bigger, smaller? She was dying to know, longing to have a glimpse of those sweet little male organs. Silently she turned her head and glanced out through the tangle of her dark hair. The three boys stood close together, Mickey naked and the other two with their flies unzipped and their disobedient limp dicks hanging out for inspection. To her astonishment, Polly felt a sudden and violent renewal of her lust. She wanted more than anything to touch those boys! Slowly, as if in a trance, she eased off the ripped remnants of her negligee, which were hindering her movement, and then crawled over to where the boys were standing, her long full breasts swaying heavily. The boys gawked at her.
"Oooo," she cooed, eying their cocks, "that's too bad! Maybe I can help."
She reached out and took Tommy's penis in one hand and Bobby's in the other. The two boys blushed and stared at her, but Mickey grinned with sudden understanding of her intentions.
"Don't panic," He chuckled to his friends. "This is gonna feel great, believe me!"
Nervously they decided to trust him, letting the strange woman hold their limp soft pricks in her hands and pet them gently with her thumbs. Polly was totally absorbed in her task and quite happy. She found Tommy's prick to be a little smaller than Mickey's, while Bobby's was a little larger, but for all practical purposes the three adolescent penises were the same size, neither child nor adult. None of the boys was circumcised, each little cock ended in a pointed wrinkle of pale flesh. Three nearly identical pairs of limp rosy balls hung between slim muscular legs. Polly wanted to caress and explore all three boys at once, but she couldn't see how that was possible. Instead, she gave an excited gurgle in her throat, then suddenly grabbed Bobby and threw him down on his back.
"Hey!" squeaked the boy. "What's she doin'? "
"Lie still and find out!" Mickey said. He was delighted that Polly had changed her mind and begun initiating the fun. He wanted his friends to have a good time, and he hoped he'd be treated to a second round of fun himself. For the moment, however, he was satisfied, and his watched without envy as Polly bent low over his dark-haired friend and began exploring between his legs with mischievous fingers. She probed his pink-mouthed anus, tickled his tiny balls, and pumped his little cock.
"Hey," giggled Bobby, "that's fun!"
"Sure it is," said Mickey, "and she knows some even better stuff than that!"
Polly suddenly gave a lusty growl, slipped her hands under Bobby's chubby buttocks, raised him high, and plunged her thirsting tongue deep into his anus. Bobby gave a high-pitched squeal of delight, and to everyone's surprise his tiny cock abruptly shot into stiff erection, nearly doubling its size and length.
"Uhhhh!" Bobby said as her tongue reamed deep in his ass. "Great, great!"
Mickey nudged Tommy in the ribs, and they exchanged happy grins. This was turning out to be the best day of their young lives, and it wasn't over yet. Almost breathless with excitement, they watched their friend Bobby getting his ass-hole licked and reamed while his stiff little cock began to ooze its juices. Polly noticed him creaming, too, and when she had thoroughly cleansed his anus with her dripping tongue, she shifted her attentions to his cock. The force of his erection had pushed back the foreskin, so that the bright red tip was exposed, and Polly noisily swished her tongue all around the sensitive flesh in a circular motion, lapping up his oozing juices and making him shiver and squeal with pleasure. Then she dipped her head again, and there was a gasp of astonishment as both his plump rosy balls disappeared into her greedy mouth with a loud sucking noise. It was too much for Bobby. The intense pleasure of having his balls vigorously sucked in the hot slick furnace of her mouth drove him into instant climax. With a piercing howl of joy, he began to shot, his tiny cock spurting high jets of cream that came down again to splatter in Polly's hair.
"Damn," muttered Bobby, "I didn't mean to cum so soon!"
Mickey and Tommy laughed loudly. "Don't worry, buddy," said Mickey, wiping his eyes, "you'll get it up again. It's easy."
Bobby sighed as Polly released him and turned her attention to Tommy, who blushed happily when he realized that he was her next target. He vowed to hold out no matter how great the pleasure: if she gave him an erection, he was going to save it to stuff in her cunt. He wouldn't be cheated of his first fuck the way the hapless Bobby had been. Tommy shivered delightedly as Polly drew him down onto the carpet, making him lie on his belly. She seized his hips and raised them, so that his tight little ass was high in the air, his pink puckered anus presented to her.
"Oh, Jesus, yeah, YEAH!" Tommy said as he felt her slick stiff tongue snaking slowly but deliciously into his virgin ass-hole. "Oh, man, that's the greatest thing I ever felt!"
She reamed his ass with swift vigorous strokes, loving his pungent tightness, and his two friends watched in amazement as his pink balls swelled up almost to bursting and his slim white cock slowly became stiff and engorged. For her part, Polly was having a wonderful time, with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of boyish bodies to play with. But she didn't want to perform the same tricks on each boy. This time, instead of sucking his balls, she suddenly flopped Tommy over on his back, dipped her head, and drew his stiff little cock into her wet hot mouth, then began sucking it loudly and quickly, as if she were starved for his essence-and, indeed, she was: she felt a sudden insane desire for a mouthful of hot boyish cum.
"Oh, oh, OH!" wailed Tommy. In spite of his firm resolution not to cum till he was actually fucking her, her delicious powerful sucking of his horny little peter was swiftly driving him to the brink of climax. He couldn't hold back, didn't want to. "Ahhhhh, OH, AAAGGGHHHH!" he shrieked as his cock seemed to explode with virgin cum. Waves of devastating pleasure rocked his body as he felt her swallowing his load.
At last Polly released him, grinning wickedly and licking her lips of the last of his juices. Then she leered at Mickey. "Come here, darling," she purred. "It's your turn!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Across the way, in the next apartment building, lived Brent and Sue Brown, the newly married couple who had unwittingly provided a peep show for Polly before her operation. Polly had forgotten about them since her new life began, and the Browns had been almost totally unaware of Polly's existence, being too wrapped up in each other to notice their neighbors. On this particular Saturday afternoon, however, the Browns at last had some attention to spare. They had made love half the night, again in the morning when they woke up, and once more after breakfast. For the time being, the young couple were fagged out and sated, a very unusual state of affairs for them. While Brent watched a football game on television, Sue was in the kitchen preparing a snack. The nubile little bride hummed contentedly to herself while she made the ham sandwiches, feeling the' proud soreness of her cunt. God, that Brent was something else! She knew, blissfully, that she had married a real stud.
On a tray Sue put the sandwiches, a bowl of potato chips, and two bottles of beer, then carried the tray out to the living room where her husband was lounging on the sofa in front of the set. There she stopped abruptly. Brent was looking very peculiar.
The set was on, the game in progress-indeed, Brent's favorite college team was on first down with goal to go-but Brent wasn't looking at the screen. He was leaning slightly to one side, looking beyond the TV set, his eyes wide and fixed as if he had been hypnotized. His mouth hung open. Sue stared at him in sudden fear, wondering if he'd had a stroke.
"Brent?" she squeaked.
"Honey-" he began, but his voice came out in a hoarse croak. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"Honey, come here very slowly and quietly." He didn't look at her. His eyes remained wide and fixed, just as before.
Sue put down the tray and came to sit beside him on the couch, eying him worriedly. Brent slowly lifted his arm and pointed towards the wide picture window of their living room. "Look," he whispered. "The place right across from us."
Sue looked, then gasped.
It was getting dark now, and as neither the Browns nor Polly Perkins had closed their drapes, the scene in Polly's apartment was easily viewed by her neighbors. What Sue and Brent saw was Polly sucking Mickey's cock, while Bobby and Tommy, who had now removed their clothes, stood close by grinning and watching.
"Oh, God," breathed Sue. "It's not a rape, is it?"-
"Nope," croaked Brent. "I've been watching for maybe fifteen minutes now, and it's all voluntary. That woman is really digging it and, needless to say, so are the kids."
"Bastard," Sue said, cuddling close to him to watch, "why didn't you call me sooner?"
Brent chuckled, too, and slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Oh, I thought you'd be shocked."
"Bullshit," said Sue, laying her hand on his thigh. As the couple watched in total fascination, Mickey came in Polly's mouth. Though the Browns could hear nothing, it was apparent to them what was happening. Polly tossed her head back, opening her throat, and Mickey's face went red with the joy and effort of orgasm, his slim hips jerked with savage speed, and he bared his teeth in a cry of pleasure as he shot his cum into her receptive mouth.
"Oh, wow," Brent said. Sue could feel him sweating with excitement as she snuggled against him. She was excited, too, by the fantastic scene in the neighboring apartment: she felt a hot little puddle of cunt juice in the crotch of her panties. Now as they watched, Polly lay down on the carpet, on her back, smiling blissfully and spreading her legs, surrendering her beautiful body to the three boys, who suddenly swarmed over her like eager puppies. Bobby and Tommy began fondling and sucking her huge tits, while Mickey wriggled between her legs and began licking her clit. Polly's face became a twisted mask of sensual pleasure.
"Oh, Jesus," wheezed Brent, "too much!"
Sue snuck a quick glance at him and saw that his face was beet red, an infallible sign of arousal in him. Turning back to the scene in Polly's apartment, for she didn't want to miss a moment of it, Sue slyly slipped her hand onto her husband's crotch and was not surprised to find that he had an enormous bulging erection. Blindly she fumbled with his fly and lifted out the hot stiff meat, wrapping her fingers around it, pumping it mischievously.
Meanwhile, Mickey's face had entirely disappeared between Polly's legs, and it was clear from the woman's heaving chest and bared teeth that he was giving her intense pleasure with his tongue. Polly reached out with trembling hands and seized the limp dangling cocks of Bobby and Tommy, began petting and pumping them. The two boys exchanged happy grins.
"Honey . ... " Brent, without taking his eyes from the peep show, began to fumble with Sue's panties. She anticipated his need, slipping off her panties and climbing backwards onto his lap. The hot thick head of his cock nosed deliciously between her legs, caressing the slick pulp of her labia.
She sighed loudly. "Not blocking your view, am I?"
"No," panted Brent, "I can see over your head. Put it in, quick!"
Sue chuckled, reached between her legs, and seized his red-hot turgid dick. She plunged the bloated head into her small but receptive cunt, and she and her husband moaned loudly as his long erect penis slid slowly, deliciously, all the way into her. Brent placed sweaty hands firmly on her waist and began moving her up and down on his fiery stiff impalement. Sue whined and wriggled and creamed. "Ooooo, fuck me, fuck me, baby!" she crooned.
"Hey, honey." Brent's voice sounded a little distracted even as he continued to ball her. "Ummm?" she sighed.
"Just occurred to me," he muttered, beginning to hump her faster. "If we can see them, they can see us."
Sue thought it over. Then she said, "So who gives a shit?"
"Not me," Brent said. "Now that you mention it, I don't really care. I-"
"Oh, Brent!" she moaned. "Shut up and ball me!"
He chuckled again, and then there was silence except for the soft lewd squishing noise of his thick cock in her tiny hot cunt, and the announcer's voice blaring from the TV: "It's a touchdown, folks! They've scored!"
"Damned right!" moaned Brent, shooting his cum into his writhing, howling little wife . ...
Brent Brown's guess was correct: Polly could see them as well as they could see her. As the three eager little boys swarmed over her, Mickey stiffly tonguing her cunt, Tommy and Bobby sucking her nipples while she played with their stiffening little cocks, Polly happened to glance out the window, and got the shock of her life. The young couple across the way, the newlyweds on whom she'd spied so often, were now watching her! And not only were they watching her and the boys with obvious excitement-they were fucking while they watched!
For a moment Polly was filled with shame and indignation. But then she thought, what the hell, what does it matter? She had watched them often enough, it was only a fair exchange. And she was glad they were enjoying themselves. Her own pleasure was so great that she felt benevolent toward the whole world, wanted everyone to be happy. And what could possibly be nicer than having three handsome boys eagerly playing with her body, three adorable little cocks to fondle and suck? Polly winked at the young couple, but they didn't notice it.
"Hey, could we fuck you now?" Bobby was saying eagerly. "I've got another hard-on, and so does Tommy."
Polly looked and discovered the boy wasn't lying. In fact as Mickey raised himself to have a look, too, she saw that all three boys were sporting bold stiff little white cocks that nuzzled their bellies and pointed straight at the ceiling. Polly was pleased and excited. Now that all her inhibitions had vanished, she wanted desperately to fuck. But she just didn't know which boy to choose first. Crazily, she wanted them all at once.
"Boys" she said, "you'll just have to toss a coin to decide who'll be first. I can't make up my mind."
But in suggesting this peaceful solution, she had reckoned without the urgency of young male horniness. Far from tossing a coin, the teenagers glared at each other and clenched their fists, making it clear that the strongest would win. And since they appeared to be of roughly equal strength, Polly feared a bloody fight.
"Wait, boys!" she cried, holding up her hands for them to stop. "I'll think of something!"
And she did. It came to her-suddenly, fiendishly-how she could enjoy and satisfy all three boys at once. Grinning slyly, her pussy creaming in hot excitement, Polly got onto her hands and knees, her big long tits swaying heavily beneath her.
"Come here, Tommy," she purred to the flushed blonde boy. "Get underneath me and fuck me."
Tommy grinned delightedly and hurried to obey her, but Bobby and Mickey broke into scowls of disappointment. "Why him?" whined Mickey. "I found your first!"
"Be patient, dear," said Polly. "Nobody's going to be left out."
By now Tommy had crawled underneath her, his grinning face brushed and tickled by her long lolling tits, and was making an effort to poke his stiff little dick in her cunt, but being totally inexperienced, he was unable to find his target. Polly laughed, seized his little poker, and fitted it securely into the creaming mouth of her vagina.
"Now, just push, darling," she cooed.
Tommy obeyed, and the resulting sharp and sudden penetration made Polly gasp with delight. Obeying blind instinct, the boy began to pump his cock swiftly, almost savagely, in her pulpy hotness, while his two friends looked on longingly and enviously.
"Oh, man, oh, man," crooned Tommy, closing his eyes in ecstasy, "too much! Ahhhh!"
When she was certain that the boy was firmly lodged, Polly looked up and leered at Bobby. "Come here, Bobby, darling," she purred, "and stand behind me. Then I'll tell you what to do."
Both Bobby and Mickey looked alert and bursting with curiosity as the dark-haired boy obeyed her command. What was Miss Perkins up to? Whatever it was, it'd be wild, that was for sure. Bobby stood behind her, between her legs and Tommy's, and waited for her instructions. All the while he could see Tommy's stiff white shaft pumping furiously in and out of Polly's hair-fringed cunt.
Polly was just a little hesitant about the next step. No man had ever entered her anally before, not even with a finger, and she hoped it wouldn't be painful. But she reasoned that Bobby's half-grown prick wouldn't stretch her too much. And she had to find a place for him!
"All right, darling," she said huskily, "now stick it in my ass!"
Bobby gasped with surprise, and no doubt with some shock, and Mickey tittered. But the boy did as she commanded, respecting her superior knowledge. Polly shivered and moaned as she felt his hot stiff little tool snaking slowly into the untried depths of her ass-hole. It felt wonderful, every bit as good as Tommy's hammering cock in her cunt. And obviously Bobby enjoyed it, too.
"Ahhhh!" he sighed, seizing her hips to steady himself. "Great! So hot and tight!" He, too, began humping her, and through the thin membrane which separated ass and cunt, he could feel Tommy's penis sliding to its separate goal.
"Great," said Mickey irritably, "but what about me? What am I supposed to so, just stand here and twiddle my thumbs?"
"No, dear," gasped Polly, the delicious double fucking was giving her such dizzying pleasure that she could hardly think, let alone talk, "come and stand in front of me, and I'll take care of you."
Mickey obeyed quickly, getting the idea right away. Grinning, flushing with arousal, he came to stand in front of Polly, seized her shoulders for support, and maneuvered his stiff little dick so that the cream-oozing tip rubbed her lips. Feverishly she licked it all up, cleaning her lips and the moist red glans of his cock. Then she fastened her lips around the stiff meat and slowly but firmly drew it into the wet furnace of her mouth.
"Oh, yeah!" wailed Mickey. "Suck my cock, Miss Perkins! YEAH!"
Stuffed at all orifices, supremely happy, Polly worked her lovely body skillfully to bring all three howling boys toward their desperately needed cums....
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was half an hour later, and the boys had gone. Polly glanced out the window at the neighbors' apartment and saw that they, too, had retired from the scene, perhaps to sleep off their voyeuristic orgy. She was all alone. The taste of boyish cum lingered on her lips, and as she lay exhausted on the carpet, rivulets of cum and cunt juice oozed from her anus and vagina. Never in her life, she thought dizzily, would she be so thoroughly fucked again. So why wasn't she happy? Wasn't this what she'd dreamed of, back in those terrible lonesome days before her operation? Hadn't she promised herself that when she was no longer ugly, she'd get herself fucked silly? Well, she'd done it, but now that her passion had passed, all she felt was shame and deep disgust for herself.
Polly forced herself to get up and take a shower. She smelled like kid sweat, she needed to be fresh again. But she couldn't rid herself of the terrible feeling of shame. Was she such a glutton for sex that she had to seduce little boys? Couldn't she have the decency to wait for a man her own age? As she toweled off after her shower, Polly knew she was going to go on browbeating herself all evening unless she found some distraction. It might be best to get out of the apartment and go to a movie.
She thumbed through the evening paper but found that most of the movies in town were X-rated or R-rated and steeped in sex. That was the last thing she needed! She had to get her mind off sex entirely, if only for a few hours. Finally she found an ad for a horror movie-something about giant cockroaches invading Tokyo-which seemed to fit the bill. After all, she thought, what's sexy about a cockroach? She dressed and left the apartment, still feeling exhausted and depressed.
In the hallway she encountered Walter the janitor sweeping the floors, and she greeted him listlessly.
"Good evening, Miss Perkins," he said, straightening up to look at her. Then, "Say, are you feeling all right? You look awfully pale."
Polly hung her head, hiding her guilty expression. Yes, she thought bitterly, I suppose fucking three kids in one afternoon will make you pale. "I'm all right, thank you, Walter," she replied. "Just a little tired, that's all."
"Too bad you have to go out, then," he said. "You should stay home and rest."
She smiled bleakly at him. She'd never really looked at Walter before, even though he'd been the janitor in her building for the three years she'd lived there. She knew he was a middle-aged man who had some other kind of job during the day, maybe it was clerking or accounting, and who moonlighted as a janitor, but she had no idea why he needed two jobs. No doubt to support the wife and kiddies. Although Walter was a big, bearish man, he looked as if he could be easily intimidated; perhaps his wife badgered him into buying her more things than one job could pay for. Poor Walter, she thought.
"You're very kind," she told him, "but really, I'm all right. Good night."
"Good night, Miss Perkins. Don't stay out too late."
As Polly continued down the hall, Walter watched her with concern and longing. He had always-liked Miss Perkins, even when she was homely, but since her operation she'd become the girl of his dreams. Walter was going to be forty this year, and up to now he'd had only one dream in his life, to save his money and buy a little farm far away from the dirt and noise and violence of the city. He'd promised himself to do this by the time he was forty, and he was going to make it, thanks to having two jobs. But the dream would have been improved by the addition of a female companion. Painfully shy, Walter had never had a steady girl friend, let alone a wife. He had resigned himself to finding sexual release with prostitutes or by lonely masturbation. But every time he saw Polly, he felt a surge of hope and daring. He could tell she wasn't happy. Maybe she, too, had a dream of getting away from it all. Why shouldn't he ask her to marry him, to go with him to his farm? All she could do, at worst, was say no. And if she said yes ... ! Walter sighed. No, it was an impossible dream. She was beautiful, he was drab and uninteresting.
Yet Walter, who had powerful and insistent sexual needs, could not dismiss the fantasy of holding Polly naked in his arms, making love to her, feeling her lovely long legs wrapped around his waist as she happily submitted to him. Again he sighed as he went back to sweeping the floor. Hell, he told himself, you only live once, you have to take some chances! He would approach her tomorrow, Sunday. Somehow he would overcome his timidity....
The movie was halfway over, and the giant cockroaches had trampled and devoured most of Tokyo, before Polly noticed the little man. She'd been vaguely aware that someone was sitting next to her in the dark theater. In fact when she chose her seat, she'd scrutinized him and decided he was harmless. But then she'd forgotten him. Now she could hear him breathing quite loudly, feel his warm thigh pressing tentatively against hers. Shit, thought Polly, aren't I safe anywhere?
When she'd entered the theater, she'd found the back rows of seats crammed with teenage couples who were already kissing and groping each other even before the lights went out. She couldn't possibly sit in that section if she wanted to take her mind off sex. The front sections were filled with squirming little kids who would be jabbering, throwing popcorn, and kicking the seats all through the move, so that section was out, too. Polly chose the middle section, left side, with the supposed "adults", taking a seat next to a frail-looking, balding middle-aged man with rimless glasses who looked as if his own shadow would scare him. She had felt quite safe there.
Now she found, to her disgust and annoyance, how wrong she'd been. The little man had been inching closer to her throughout the movie, and now at last he'd found the courage to press thighs. Polly angrily jerked her leg away and turned to glare at him in the dim light. He hung his head and seemed to shrivel up. She turned back to the movie, satisfied that she'd eliminated this menace. Yet not a minute had passed before she heard the loud quick breathing again, and then his sweaty hot little hand planted itself firmly on her stockinged thigh, moving swiftly up beneath her minidress and coming to rest, trembling but determined, on the humid crotch of her panties.
This time when she turned to him, Polly didn't glare, She gawked in disbelief. The nerve of the man! He flashed her a sly little smile, and she felt his finger wriggling under the lacy material of her panties and burrowing suggestively into the moist fleshy folds of her labia. She was so astonished that for a moment she could not find words to express her indignation.
"What the hell--? " she croaked. Then she gasped in a sudden burst of pleasure as his mischievous stiff little finger wriggled into her cunt. Taking advantage of her helplessness, he then inserted a second finger, impaling her firmly, and began to pump, imitating the stiff thrusts of a penis, and all the while grinning wickedly at her in the dark.
Polly simply couldn't help it, it felt too good to resist. Her mind protested, but her body reveled in his naughty finger play. With a sigh, she sluched in her seat and opened her legs wider, letter him get his fingers deep inside her. The little man sighed, too, and moved closer to her, pressing thighs and using his free hand to play with her tits. Polly leaned back, resting her head on the seat, and watched the movie through slitted eyes, vaguely seeing a whirl of color and occasionally a giant cockroach or two. She lost the thread of whatever plot there was, and soon she was aware of nothing but his deliciously probing fingers in the juicy depths of her vagina. Orgasm rocketed through her, shaking her body, and she clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her cries of delight. Her cunt contracted violently around the man's thrusting fingers, creaming hotly and abundantly. Then she felt his fingers withdrawing.
"Whore," he whispered harshly. "Slut."
Well, if it makes him angry, she thought, why does he do it? She glanced at him and saw that, on the contrary, he was grinning happily. So that was his number: he liked to feel up women in order to humiliate them. "Jezebel!" he hissed, still grinning fiendishly. "Dirty harlot!"
"Oh, go fuck yourself," said Polly coolly.
He gawked at her, then glowered and rose abruptly from his seat, stepping deliberately on her foot as he squirmed past her and escaped from the theater. She saw that the fly of his trousers was wet, guessed that he had cum while taunting her. Wearily she thought, different strokes for different folks! She knew she should be ashamed of herself, but she was too washed out to care. It had been a long day. She didn't want to think about it now. She straightened her skirt, relaxed, and watched as the Japanese army annihilated the giant cockroaches, once again making the world safe for democracy and free enterprise.
CHAPTER NINE
Polly slept in late on Sunday morning, waking only when she heard the persistent ringing of the doorbell around noon. She moaned, pulled a pillow over her head, and tried to ignore the noise, but it went on and on. Finally she decided it must be an emergency of some sort, or the person would go away. My God, maybe the building was on fire!
Polly leaped out of bed and staggered to the door, unthinkingly removing the chain lock before she saw who it was. She opened the door and was nearly knocked over as Mickey, Bobby, and Tommy rushed into the room, followed by a fat black dog of uncertain ancestry. As soon as she recovered her balance, she planted her hands on her hips and faced her intruders angrily.
"Get out of here!" she cried. "I didn't invite you, and I don't want any of you in my apartment again!"
"That wasn't what you said yesterday," Mickey said. The other two boys looked a little intimidated by her hostility, but not Mickey. She wondered if anything would scare this red-haired kid.
"I don't care what I said yesterday," replied Polly coldly. "And whatever you've got in mind, you can just forget it. Get out of here right now! And take that disgusting mutt with you!"
The plump black dog had trotted up to Polly and was sniffing her crotch. She pushed it away.
Mickey laughed. "Aw, that's just my dog Blackie. He don't mean any harm. He's real friendly."
"He's also disgusting," said Polly. "Now get out, all of you."
The boys exchanged glances, and then Mickey nodded. Taking Polly utterly by surprise, they rushed her in a group, seizing her and dragging her to the bed. Eager grubby little hands stripped off her nightgown even as she twisted and fought. When she was naked, the three boys stood over her grinning and panting expectantly.
"My God," gasped Polly, "how can I make you understand? The answer is no!"
"But we ain't takin' no for an answer," Mickey said. "Why don't you stop fighting us? It won't do you no good. If you won't cooperate, we'll tell everybody what you did with us yesterday. How would you like that, Miss Perkins?"
Polly moaned and rolled over on her stomach to hide her face from the leering boys. What could she do? She couldn't bear the disgrace if they told on her. Everyone would know she was a lusty slut who seduced little boys. Yet she wanted desperately to get out of this relationship with Mickey and his friends. It was degrading and humiliating; it was sick. Trapped in her dilemma, seeing no way out, she simply lay on her bed and sobbed quietly, listening to the excited breathing of the three teenagers as they shucked then-clothing.
"Remember," Mickey was saying, "we tossed for it this time, and I'm first."
"Right," said Tommy, "and I'm second. But hurry, man, my cock feels ready to burst!"
"Mine, too," sighed Bobby, "and I have to be last."
"Okay, okay," said Mickey impatiently, "I'll do my best. You guys be ready to hold her if she starts to fight."
But it wasn't necessary to hold Polly. She had resigned herself to whatever happened, seeing no way out of it. Let them gratify their lusts on her passive body, and then later, when they left, she would decide what to do. Right now she was too shaken and distressed to think clearly.
She heard Mickey panting, felt him climbing onto her back, his slim body hard and sweaty. When he lay full length on top of her, his face came only to her shoulder blades. She felt his sharp hot little penis nosing eagerly between the folds of her buttocks.
"I'm gonna try it the way you let Bobby do it yesterday," he whispered triumphantly. "That looked like fun. I'm gonna poke it in your ass.
Polly said nothing at first. But when he had fitted the swollen head of his rigid tool into the tightly clenched opening of her anus, she started and yelped. It wasn't like yesterday, when Bobby had fucked her there. Then she had been willing and yielding. Now she was closed and resistant and it was sharply painful as Mickey panted and pushed to enter her.
"Please, no!" she shrieked. "It hurts!"
"Bullshit!" snarled Mickey. "You let Bobby do it, and you liked it! So just shut up!"
Polly sobbed and wailed helplessly as Mickey succeeded at last in burying his stiff rod all the way to the root. She felt as if a red hot poker had been rammed up her ass. He wasn't at all gentle about it, and the harder he thrust, the louder she cried. But as she looked pleadingly at Tommy and Bobby, who stood beside the bed watching, she saw not a trace of sympathy in their eyes. She was merely an object to them, a creature without feelings, a body to play with. This is what I've done to them, she thought miserably. By submitting to them, I've made them into unfeeling little monsters....
Blessed relief came in the form of numbness after Mickey had sawed away for a minute or so. Polly lay whimpering as he humped her, and at last she felt him shiver, heard him gasp, and her narrow ass-hole was flooded with his hot cum. She sighed as he withdrew his shriveled prick.
"Okay, Tommy, your turn," he said. "How're you gonna do it to her?"
She could hear the breathless excitement in Tommy's voice as he replied. "Gee, I'd really like to try it like you did yesterday, Mickey! I mean, shooting in her mouth."
Mickey laughed. "So do it!"
But Tommy hesitated. "Well, I dunno. She might bite me. I mean, she already said she doesn't want us-"
"I'll take care of that," said Mickey brusquely. "Roll over!" he commanded Polly.
She did, and then she yelped with pain as he suddenly pinched a rosy red nipple between his fingers. "You be nice to Tommy, understand?" he growled. "No biting, or I'll bite you right here!" Polly nodded vigorously and gave a sob of relief as he let go of her tender nipple. She feared Mickey more than the other boys. He seemed utterly without tenderness or sympathy. Now he turned to his friend and said, "Okay, man, she's all yours. You do whatever you want, and I'll make sure she behaves."
Tommy wasn't entirely reassured. Slowly, blushing and hesitating, he climbed onto the bed with Polly, searching her face for signs of hostility. But she remained passive and expressionless. Tommy straddled her and seated himself on her cushiony breasts, his plump little balls nestling into her cleavage. Then he took his bloated prick in his hand and gingerly placed the cream-oozing tip on her full lips. He blushed again and cleared his throat, apparently unable to proceed any further without her encouragement.
Polly sighed and opened her mouth. Might as well get if over with, she thought. Strange that yesterday it had excited her to suck off young cocks, but today she felt complete indifference. Now Tommy smiled happily and pushed his stiff little penis inside, onto the slick hot surface of her tongue, and she closed her mouth again and began to suck him mechanically, without enjoyment. She did it well, making the fit tight and juicy, sucking him swiftly and vigorously, but her only aim was to bring him off as quickly as she could. After that she would have only Bobby to take care of, and then they would leave her alone. Oh, God, she thought listlessly, how did I ever get involved in a mess like this? All these giggling little kids-it's insane! I need a man, a real man!
"Ahhhh! Great!" moaned Tommy, who had closed his eyes and was gently rocking his small ass on her tits as he fed her his cock. "This is just as good as fucking!"
Again the giggling and tittering from the other two boys. Polly tried to ignore it. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she caught movement, a black flash, and then she was aware that Blackie the dog had trotted over to see what was going on. He put his forepaws up on the bed and looked right at Polly, his moist brown eyes gleaming with curiosity. She made a face-as well as she could when her mouth was stuffed with cock-and the dog, sensing her hostility, gave a low growl and moved away. He wasn't gone for long, however. Too many things excited and attracted him. He saw the way his master and his friends were drawn to the woman on the bed. He heard their lusty breathing, scented their odor of arousal. But what lured him most of all was the powerful delicious scent coming from between the woman's legs. It spelled sex, rutting, to the fat little dog and made him tremble with longing. The hair stood up on the back of his neck, he wagged his tail frantically, and then, unable to restrain himself, he leaped onto the bed and burrowed eagerly between Polly's legs.
"UUMMMPPFFF!" exclaimed Polly, her mouth still full of Tommy's swift-poking little prick. Somebody was licking her cunt and doing a damned nice job of it. She would have loved to relax and enjoy it, but the problem was, she didn't know who was doing it, and that bothered her. It couldn't be Tommy, and it wasn't Bobby or Mickey, either-they were still standing there beside the bed, grinning. The little bastards! Had they let yet another boy in on the fun? Then she had her answer. She saw that Mickey and Bobby were no longer watching Tommy's performance. Instead they were looking between her legs, sniggering and nudging each other.
"Jeez," tittered Bobby, pointing, "Look at that! Blackie's licking her cunt!"
Blackie! The dog! Polly froze. This was too much, she simply couldn't allow it. She prepared herself for resistance, but just at that moment Tommy whined, trembled, and shot his load into her throat. She was kept busy swallowing his cum in order not to choke on it. Only when the panting boy had crawled off her was she able to speak. Red in the face, pointing indignantly at the busy dog between her legs, she snapped, "Get him off me! I will NOT put up with this!"
"Okay, okay, keep your shirt on," growled Mickey. He picked up the dog and set him down on the floor. "No, no Blackie," he chided. The chubby black dog tucked his tail between his legs and trotted off to a neutral corner.
"My turn now!" Bobby nearly squealed his delight. "I didn't get to fuck her yesterday, so that's what I'm gonna do!" Stiff as it was, his little white cock bounced as he jumped up and down in his excitement.
"Then go to it, buddy!" Mickey said, clapping him on the back.
Bobby dove for her, and Polly wearily opened her legs, hoping his intense excitement would make him blast off quickly. The sweaty young boy burrowed happily between her soft thighs, jabbed his prick swiftly and blindly in her labial silk, and at last, with a lucky shot, managed to bury himself to the hilt in her snug hot cunt. He sighed deeply, buried his face in her mountainous breasts, and began to hump her.
"Ahhhhh!" he whined. "Ahhhhh, ohhhhh!"
This was something Polly could almost enjoy.
Fed up and disgusted as she was, weary of the boys and their sadistic little games, she couldn't help catching some of their erotic excitement, and she admitted to herself that a good hard fuck would be nice right now. But not with Bobby. For one thing he was the enemy: she was determined not to let herself go with these boys again, not to give them the satisfaction of arousing her. And for another, his cock simply wasn't big enough. It was stiff, all right, and he was using it the way she liked it, thrusting deep and hard and fast. But somehow it wasn't enough She found herself writhing with frustration, longing for a man-sized penis. If only she could overcome her fear of adult males, find a lover who could really satisfy her!
"AHHHHH!! " Bobby wailed his joy as he came to quick and violent orgasm, jetting his cum into her in swift shallow jabs. Then he rolled off her, and Polly breathed a sigh of relief. Her ordeal was over, the boys would leave now. She was nearly shaking with horniness, but she could solve that problem with her vibrator after they'd gone. All she wanted now was to be left alone.
"Blackie! No!"
Mickey was yelling as the dark shape shot through the air. Unable to contain his powerful need, the little dog had returned to the source of the exciting female scents as soon as the place was vacated by Bobby. He leaped onto the bed, wriggled between Polly's legs, and began eagerly lapping up the oozing cunt juices and boy cum that streamed from her vagina. His tongue was hot and stiff, and Polly felt a little twinge of pleasure even as she loudly protested his attack.
"Get him off me!" she shouted. "I won't have this! Take your damned dog and get out of my apartment, all of you!"
When his dog had first jumped on her, Mickey had looked apologetic. But now, as Polly protested, his freckled face twisted with spite. He didn't like to be ordered around, especially by a woman.
"Take him off yourself," he sneered. "I don't wanta spoil his fun."
"You filthy little creep!" hissed Polly. She glared at Mickey, hating him, but knew he was determined to humiliate her, that she would get no help from him or his friends. Blushing, she bent to seize the eagerly lapping dog, gripping his shoulders and trying to push him away. But Blackie wouldn't budge. He dug his claws into the bed, growled menacingly, and held his ground. Fearing he would bite her in that most tender of places, Polly sobbed loudly and let go of him.
"Please," she wept, "don't let him do this to me! Please take him away!"
Mickey showed no mercy, but his friends looked a little worried. "Jeez, Mickey," said Bobby, "maybe we should make him quit. I mean, it's going a little too far, don't you think?"
"Yeah," said Tommy, "we didn't bring your dog here to get laid!"
"Why not?" said Mickey quite calmly". They all gawked at him, even Polly, while an evil and leering expression came over his freckled face. "Yeah, why not?" he went on, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Dogs like to get laid, too, don't they? As long as we're here, why shouldn't Blackie have some fun?"
Tommy and Bobby snickered, and the former said wonderingly, "You really mean it, Mickey? Could you get Blackie to fuck her?"
"It'd be fun to find out!" Mickey said.
Polly Couldn't believe her ears. As if he hadn't humiliated her enough already, Mickey now proposed to make her submit to his dog!
"Oh, no," she croaked, rolling over onto her stomach and preparing to flee, "oh, no, that's one thing you won't make me do!" Blackie, deprived of his pleasure, whined and howled.
"Hold her!" Mickey hissed.
Polly moved, but she wasn't quick enough. The boys were on her, the three of them grasping her arms and legs, holding her so she couldn't move. Ironically they had caught her exactly in the posture of a receptive bitch, on all fours with her ass raised. She sobbed and protested, to no avail.
"Come on, boy!" called Mickey. "Come on, Blackie!"
Puzzled, the fat black dog waddled over to where Polly was being held. He sniffed her crotch and began licking again, but Mickey pulled him away. "No, boy! You can do better than that!" While his friends held the sobbing woman, Mickey picked up his pet and mounted him behind Polly, so that the dog's forepaws rested in a furry embrace on her hips and his dark loins touched her creamy pungent slit. "Go, boy, go!" Mickey said.
It took a moment for Blackie to get the idea. He whined, looked inquiringly at his master, and sniffed Polly's anus. Then very slowly but steadily his bright red gleaming dog-cock began to emerge from the fur of his belly. The boys gasped in admiration and wonder. For such a small dog, it was a very long, thick penis, and it was quite stiff. Again Blackie whined, this time with excitement, and then he began jabbing his canine prick frantically against Polly's pussy. Mickey laughed, seized the dog's penis, and guided it to the slitted mouth of her cunt.
"OH, GOD, NO!" screamed Polly . ...
CHAPTER TEN
In the basement of the apartment building, Walter the janitor was practicing a speech. He stood before the yellowed mirror in the employee's lavatory and tried to look dignified as he intoned, "Miss Perkins, I've admired you for a long time, and although what I'm about to say may sound a little unusual-"
"Oh, hell," he broke off, turning away from the mirror, "I'm no good at speeches!" But how was he going to approach Polly, how to make her understand his feelings? Walter was ready to make his break away from the city. His farm was purchased and waiting, he'd give notice on both his jobs. The only thing lacking was a woman to go with him, and the only woman he wanted was Polly. But his painful shyness had always kept him from speaking to her except in casual greeting, and now he found himself terrified of approaching her with a proposal of marriage.
Yet the alternative was a bleak and lonely life in the country, without a companion and without sex. Walter had had too much loneliness already, and he knew that once he left the city, he wouldn't even have prostitutes to solace his body's steady and powerful needs. He couldn't bear that. No, dammit, no matter how scared and timid he felt, he just had to speak to Polly, and he had to do it today! He'd forget the imagine speech he'd made up; he'd just tell her in plain words how he felt and what he wanted; but he'd never forgive himself if he didn't at least try.
"Then that's that," Walter declared firmly to himself. Before his resolve could weaken, he marched to the elevator and pressed the button for Polly's floor. When the doors opened, he marched right down the hall to her room. He was about to ring the doorbell when he was stopped by strange noises coming from inside.
What the hell? He could hear kids giggling, a dog whining and growling, but what really alarmed him was Polly's voice, muffled but weeping and protesting. He tried the door and found it locked, then fumbled in the pocket of his overalls for his master key. Silently he fitted it into the lock, and just as quietly he opened the door and looked inside. Then he froze.
Walter had an unobstructed view of the action on the bed, the three giggling young boys holding Polly still while the fat black dog busily humped behind her. They were so absorbed in their fun that they didn't notice Walter come into the room, and for his part, he was unable to move or think. He simply couldn't believe what he saw.
Strange, he had never given much thought before to Polly's sexuality. His knowledge of her had become mixed with his hundreds of fantasies about her, until he'd just assumed that she'd be fantastic in bed. But, really, he didn't know. And it was something he ought to consider carefully. What if she was frigid, or a Lesbian-anything was possible-or what if she was a nymphomaniac who would find herself incapable of fidelity? And how the hell had she gotten herself into her present predicament? It was clear that Polly wasn't enjoying the dog's attentions, but on the other hand, a woman didn't collect three teenage boys in her room for no reason at all.
Walter decided that the smart thing to do was to conceal himself, observe and find out just what the score was. If the boys began doing anything that might really hurt Polly, he could step out and stop them, but for now he preferred to wait. There was a lot he could learn about the woman of his dreams, and he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed his first sight of her without her clothes. Tense with excitement, Walter silently concealed himself behind the table....
Meanwhile Polly was struggling with hysteria. She had passed beyond outrage and disgust, and now was wondering wildly what further humiliation the boys could possibly visit on her. Surely this was the ultimate, forcing her to be fucked by a dog, and yet she had the sinking feeling that they wouldn't be content, wouldn't leave her alone. And if that was so, she wanted to die.
When she managed to think about it objectively, it wasn't unbearable. The dog's stiff cock wasn't large enough to hurt her, and, indeed, if it had belonged to a man, she might have enjoyed it, for
Blackie probed her hard and fast, just the way she liked it best. But to get it from a dog! It was the wound to her pride and dignity that really hurt, especially since she was forced to have an audience of leering, tittering boys....
It had seemed an eternity since the dog climbed onto her, but in fact Blackie had no more endurance than an ordinary dog and came within a minute. Polly sobbed her relief as she felt his steaming cum flooding her cunt. Not disposed to linger for any human endearments, Blackie dismounted the instant he was satisfied, hopped off the bed, and found a comfortable place on the floor to lick himself before drifting into an innocent sleep. The boys let go of Polly, and she collapsed onto her stomach, weary beyond experience. If only they'd leave. . . !
"Jeez," chuckled Mickey, "that was really something, wasn't it? It got me all hot again!"
"Me too!" chorused Bobby and Tommy.
Oh, no, thought Polly. Was there no end to their recuperative powers? She glanced at the boys and saw that each of them sported a brand new erection, that they were eying her gorgeous body hungrily....
"Same order as before," commanded Mickey, the leader. "I get to be first."
"Aw, hey, no!" squeaked Bobby. "That's not fair! I was last, so I ought to be first this time!"
"He's right, Mickey," put in Tommy, "it's only fair. Unless-" His handsome young face suddenly brightened with a delighted grin. "Hey, I've got an idea! Why don't we do it like yesterday, when we all had her at once?"
Happy shouts of agreement met this suggestion, and Mickey added, "Yeah, good idea. She really liked that. In fact, it was her idea."
From his hiding place behind the table, Walter the janitor pricked up his ears. Here was a piece of new information. Apparently this wasn't the boys' first visit to Polly's apartment, and on another occasion she'd been more receptive. Walter didn't know whether to be pleased or not. He wanted a hot-blooded woman, but seducing a gang of little kids was something else. However, he decided to withhold judgment until he'd seen more....
Now Polly was speaking, her voice dull and weary. "Please, boys, no more today! I just don't feel up to it. Why don't you come back tomorrow evening when I've had a chance to rest?"
"Oh, sure," said Mickey contemptuously, "and have you lock us out? Uh-uh, lady, we're not that dumb. We're gonna take whatever we can get, while it's still available. Right, guys?"
There was a muttered chorus of agreement, and Polly saw to her dismay that Bobby and Tommy seemed to be getting as hard-hearted as Mickey. None of them cared any longer how she felt. They would use her mercilessly, and as long as she was outnumbered, there was nothing she could do about it. Yet once more she tried to appeal to their better natures.
"Boys, you don't understand. I used to be very ugly, it was only recently that I had surgery on my face. Anyhow, all that time I never had any boyfriends, and I got very lonely. The day I cam home from the hospital, Mickey seemed attracted to me, and I-well, I lost control of myself with him. I shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't help myself. Then when he brought you two around, the same thing happened. I knew better, but I was weak. However, this business with the dog has brought me to my senses. What we're doing is wrong, perverted. It's bad for me, and bad for you. It must stop. You must leave now and not come back."
Her desperate speech had no effect at all on the three boys, who only squirmed impatiently and eyed her lush body. But it had a profound effect on Walter. Now he knew everything he needed to know about her, the long years of ugliness and sexual starvation, the way her operation, instead of bringing her happiness, had precipitated an explosion of pent-up lust which she was bitterly regretting. He felt great pity for her, and he wanted to help her . ...
"Aw, can that crap!" snapped Mickey as Polly came to the end of her speech. "Don't try to make excuses. You invited me to do it with you, and I don't intend to quit now. Let's go, guys, grab her!"
The three boys lunged at her, and Polly wailed miserably as the grabbed her and held her still, readying her for yet another assault. All around her, stiff white little cocks flashed and threatened, as if in a nightmare. She sobbed loudly, pleaded, but they paid no attention. One hard little organ was poking into her cunt, another into her tender anus, and a third seeking entrance to her mouth. Then, suddenly, everyone froze.
"That'll be enough," said Walter the janitor. His voice was controlled but decided as he stood in the center of the room, hands on hips, looking supernaturally large and powerful to the guilty boys. "Get dressed, boys," he said. "I want to talk to you."
Polly sank into the bed, wishing she could disappear. What must the man think, catching her like this? How could she ever explain? She couldn't bear to look up at him, imagining the knowing leer in his eyes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Under Walter's awesome stare, the boys dressed quickly, but even his superior strength and authority did not lessen their resentment at being interrupted in the midst of their fun with Polly. In particular, Mickey felt thwarted and rebellious. As he finished dressing, he faced the older man angrily.
"I don't seen what makes this any of your business!" he snapped. "What right do you have to walk in onus and tell us what to do?"
"I'm glad you asked that, sonny," replied Walter, smiling grimly, "because it gives me a chance to tell you exactly what I'm going to do if you don't follow my orders. The point is, the lady doesn't want you here, and I'm going to see that her wishes are respected. You'll leave now, all of you, and not come back, or I'll inform your parents and the juvenile authorities. Is that clear enough?"
It was clear enough for Tommy and Bobby, who paled and fled out the door. But Mickey stood his ground. "Oh, yeah?" he cried. "Well I got ideas of my own, mister! If you send me away, I'll tell everybody I know that she started it. It was her idea in the first place! Just ask her whether or not she'd like THAT!"
Walter held himself in check, though he wanted very much to slap this cocky kid. "I don't need to ask her," he said coldly. "I know what she wants. She wants you the hell out of her life. Now, get going, before I lose my temper and beat the shit out of you."
This was an argument which got through to Mickey. Not at all impressed by the older man's arguments, he was thoroughly intimidated by his threat of physical punishment. He moved cautiously toward the door, as if fearing Walter might attack him anyway.
"And take that mutt of fours, too," said Walter.
"Here, Blackie!" called Mickey. The fat little dog trotted to his side. Then as Mickey slipped out the door, he turned for one last look at Polly Perkins, an expression of hatred twisting his freckled face. "I'll tell!" he hissed. "I'll tell everybody what you did!"
Walter darted for him, but the boy was gone. They could hear him thundering down the stairs, the click of the little dog's claws right behind him.
Polly began to sob. "Oh, God, he means it! He'll ruin my reputation! What am I going to do?"
Through her tears she saw Walter looking at her, and although she could not quite define the expression in his eyes, she assumed it was contempt. After what he'd seen and heard, how could he possibly respect her or feel any sympathy for her? In his eyes she must be nothing but a slut! Especially since she was sitting in front of him stark naked! Polly blushed deeply and pulled the blankets over herself.
Walter wished she hadn't done that. The peculiar expression on his face, which Polly had interpreted as hostility, was actually closer to a hungry leer. He'd tried to disguise it, but the sight of this beautiful woman naked was too much for him, he just couldn't help staring and longing. Now when she drew the covers over herself, it broke the spell. He had only a vague after-image of her huge perfectly shaped breasts, the soft curves of her torso, the sweet triangular patch of fuzz that guarded her secret parts. How badly he wanted her! Sighing, Walter moved a little closer to the bed and tried to find words to express himself.
"I'm sorry," Polly was saying, as she hung her head, her long shining brown hair falling forward to shadow her face. "I shouldn't be asking you for sympathy. Under the circumstances, it was wonderful of you to protect me from those boys. I can hardly ask any more of you. Thank you, Walter, for doing that much."
Walter was astonished. Had she never understood how he felt about her? After three years, had she never understood the look in his eyes? "Polly-Miss Perkins," he stammered, "you've got it wrong. I want to help you. I'm for you, not against you."
She gawked at him in disbelief. "How can you be, Walter? After what you saw? Mickey told the truth, it was my idea in the first place, I mean to have an affair with Mickey. I didn't like it when he brought along the other boys, and then-" She blushed deeply-"that dog! But I didn't say no, either. And there were times when I enjoyed it." She was sobbing again, helpless and humiliated in her guilt. "No, Walter, I'm not innocent. It got out of hand, but it was my fault. I think you ought to know that before you say anything more about wanting to help me."
"Polly-May I call you Polly?"
"Of course," she said, hanging her head.
"Well, Polly, I don't look down on you, believe me, I don't. I think I understand why you did what you did. But that's over now." But his words didn't help.
"Is it?" she wailed. "Is it really over? I know Mickey-he'll keep his promise, he'll tell everyone! I'll lose my job, probably be thrown out of my apartment! I won't be able to look anyone in the face after this! No, Walter, it's not over, and I don't want you to get involved. You're too good, you don't deserve that kind of scandal...."
"Too good." Walter almost laughed aloud at her innocent words. The only reason I'm good, he thought cynically, is that I've never had the chance to be bad. He thought of the hundreds of whores he'd patronized over the years, the lewd acts of sex he'd demanded from the depths of his pent-up needs, but of course that was all right, he was a man, and men are allowed to get away with a lot more than women. He thought of his endless, torturing fantasies, the way he undressed women with his eyes and imagined getting them into bed, but that, too, was okay, because nobody knew about it but him. The only difference between him and Polly was that she'd acted out her fantasies, had taken risks he was too timid to take. Despise her? No, he admired her. The only question was, could he make her love him? Could he turn her abundant sexual energies to his own service? If so, he would have found the wife of his dreams . ...
Walter had never wanted to be married to the typical American housewife, a mincing little cutie whose chief interests in life were her house, her children, and grabbing her husband's paycheck to spend on clothes and cosmetics. No, he wanted a woman who had a deep and hungry interest in sex, in all the physical pleasures a husband and wife could enjoy together. But where to find such a woman? Was it an impossible dream? At work, many of his buddies complained about their wives-women who wore hair rollers and cold cream to bed, making themselves about as alluring as a lawn mower; women who were always "too tired"; women who consistently refused their husbands the most important element of marriage. That was not for Walter. Yet he had come perilously close, once, to marrying such a woman. He thought back twenty years and more, to the time he was a senior in high school, suffering from perpetual adolescent horniness . ...
Then, as now, Walter was not popular with girls. He was big, clumsy, homely, and shy, and his few attempts to get dates had always been sneeringly repulsed. Then a new girl came to his high school. Her name was Gwen Barth, she came from a very poor family, she was keenly ambitious, and she was very pretty. Gwen sought at once to make her way into the most select and influential social circles at school, to be part of the clique formed around the cheer leaders and athletic heroes and class officers, but her ambitions were thwarted because she was a new girl and because she was poor. The rat race of high school social status is worse than anything in the so-called "real" world of business and the professions. Gwen Barth came face to face with this cruel fact-and fought back. Since none of the popular boys would date her, she turned to Walter.
Walter was an excellent choice for the scheming Gwen. His parents were well off and highly respected in town, and although he was completely out of the social scene, he was liked and admired at school. He was also a pushover for Gwen. He became her key to the inner circle, her means of going to games and dances and parties with a suitable escort.
Walter couldn't believe it at first when this beautiful girl took an interest in him, but he quickly became so infatuated with her that he could refuse her nothing. Any place Gwen wanted to go, they went, and anything she wanted to do, they did. Her big blue eyes, her golden curls, the pert outline of her softly jiggling little tits under her tight sweater, all of it turned him to jelly. He became her slave, her puppy dog. In return, Gwen was minimally polite to him, but Walter was blinded to her indifference. In fact, he'd assumed they were in love. Why else, he naively asked himself, would Gwen have chosen me over more handsome and popular boys?
He began to weave fantasies about her: if she was in love with him, then surely she wouldn't refuse him if he tried to make love to her. Walter felt this was logical, but it was a long time before he gathered enough courage to try. It was late spring, the night after a football dance, when he finally made his move. Instead of driving Gwen directly home, Walter parked by the river-a favorite necking spot for the local teenagers-and turned to her with a feverish look of longing in his eyes.
"Walter," Gwen said impatiently, "why are we stopping here? I want to go home."
"Well, ah, Gwen," he stammered, clumsily slipping one big arm around her shoulders, "I thought we could stop and, uh, talk for a while."
She glanced at his circling arm as if it were a boa constrictor, then said coldly, "Talk about what? It's late, Walter, and I want to go home."
"You don't have to be in for another hour," pleaded Walter. "And, gee, Gwen, we've been going together for six months now, and I've never even kissed you. See what I mean?" He knew he was blushing, and he was glad it was dark.
Gwen saw what he meant. She was not an inexperienced girl, and she'd guessed that some day even the timid Walter would demand some return for his investment of time and attention. But she intended to give him as little as possible.
"Very well, Walter," she said stiffly, "kiss me. And then take me home."
Walter lunged at her like a horny bull, landed his mouth on her nose, and then succeeded in meeting his mouth with hers. Powerful lust surged inside him, and he could not control himself. He kissed her roughly, hungrily, digging his tongue deep into her mouth, and at the same time his bug hands fumbled over her ripe little body, fondling her waist, her thighs, her firm small breasts. Gwen endured it for exactly thirty seconds, then pushed him away.
"All right, Walter," she said primly, "that's enough. Let's go."
But it was just the beginning for Walter. He forgot his shyness, his good manners, even his fear of Gwen's anger. He threw himself on her again, and his greatly superior bulk almost smothered the small girl, sinking her down onto the seat of the car, covering her so that she couldn't wriggle away. Walter kissed her again., ignored her muffled protests, and pushed her sweater up over her pointy white bra. After some fumbling behind her back, he managed to unhook the bra and push it out of the way, too. He raised his head and looked at her sweet little tits, round and firm and delicately white in the dim moonlight. God, at last he was touching them! His huge hands cupped them, he marveled at their softness . ...
"Walter, for heaven's sake!" Gwen's voice was shrill with indignation. "Stop this at once!"
Walter said nothing, scarcely even hearing her. He planted his wet mouth on one rosy nipple and began to suck it greedily. Gwen gasped with shock and tried to push him away, but he Was far too heavy for her. Against the tender flesh of her mons, she felt the rapidly hardening line of his big cock, and for the first time, the girl felt real panic. Always, before, she had been able to control Walter, make him do anything she wanted. Now she sensed that he was beyond her control, that nothing she said would deter him from his mindless need.
"Walter, please!" she shrieked. He didn't hear her. This was the closest Walter had come to a real, flesh and blood girl, the first time he'd actually tried to make love-and all he could think of now was completing the act. Gwen's tiny fists hammered at his face and shoulders, but he didn't even feel them. With a growl of lust, he pushed her skirt up to her waist and began tearing at her panties. Gwen fought desperately, but he seemed possessed of superhuman strength. She heard her panties tearing, felt cool air on her tender mons. Then the zipper of Walter's jeans, and then, worse than anything that went before, the long hard hot line of his penis as he jammed it between her tightly clenched thighs. Gwen clenched her teeth, kept her legs crossed, and pummeled him with her fists, all the while wondering desperately how she was going to get out of this predicament. Fortunately, Walter could not find the mark, which gave her some time to think.
For Gwen could think quite coolly, even under these circumstances. She felt not an iota of pleasure or excitement. As far as Gwen was concerned, sex was merely something that men wanted and women had to put up with, when they were married. She knew that someday she would have to endure such attentions from a man, in order to keep her husband, and she was quite willing to make the sacrifice. All her young life was directed towards finding a wealthy husband and escaping from poverty and obscurity, and she would use sex as a weapon in this struggle, knowing it was the best weapon she had. But she didn't intend to put out for any man who hadn't obliged with a wedding ring....
Suddenly something occurred to Gwen. Walter's father was rich. That meant Walter would be rich some day. So why not marry Walter? He was as good as any prospect. "Walter!" she cried to the sweating, heaving boy. "Listen to me! This isn't right, we're not married! But, Walter, if we get married, you can fuck me as much as you like!"
Walter stopped still. At first it was out of wonder, the wonder of hearing the word "fuck" roll off Gwen's tongue so easily. He hadn't even thought she'd known the word. Then the rest of her statement sunk in. He blushed and hung his head. She was right, of course. Gwen was a nice girl, a decent girl, so where did he get off, raping her, robbing her innocence? It was only proper that he marry her, if he wanted to enjoy her. And the sooner the better! Walter didn't stop to think whether he really wanted to live with Gwen for the rest of his life, whether he would be able to support her or not. He could only think of getting his needy cock into that hot little virgin cunt. But he knew he would have to pay the price.
"All right, Gwen," he said, "I'll marry you."
"That's a good boy," she purred, stroking his hair.
He took her home then, and later jacked off in his bedroom to relieve his need.
Gwen lost no time broadcasting their engagement. It was in the local newspaper, and the date was set for June, right after their high school graduation. Walter would not go to college after all, now that he was to support a wife. He would take a job in his father's factory, eventually work his way up to an executive position. Gwen reverted to her old manner, coolly ordering him around, taking his slavish attendance for granted. She did not allow him to neck with her-he would have everything, she told him, on their wedding night. It was this delicious promise that kept Walter going.
And so he might have married her, had he not overheard the conversation. Sometimes Walter was a little absent-minded, and one day he went to pick up Gwen for a date which was actually for the next day. Consequently she wasn't expecting him. Gwen's mother told him Gwen was in the back yard with her girl friend Peggy, and that Walter should go right on out. Walter did, and the two girls didn't hear him coming. He stopped short when he heard what they were saying.
"Oh, Gwen," Peggy was sighing, "getting married is so wonderful, but how can you stand-" She hesitated, then said, "I mean, Walter, for heaven's sake! What do you see in him?"
Gwen giggled maliciously. "Money, of course! What else is there?"
Peggy giggled, too, and said, "Not much! He's really a slob, you know? I mean, I know he's your fianc' and all, and I think you're real smart to pick a guy who'll inherit all that money, but physically, yecch! How can you stand to have him touch you?"
"I can't," said Gwen grimly. "I can't stand to have any man touch me. But I'll just have to get used to it, that's all. It'll be worth it to get out of this rotten house and have some money for a change."
"Oh, then you've never let him-" Peggy giggled.
"You know!"
"Oh, God, NO," Gwen replied in horror. "And he's not going to get much after we're married, either, I can tell you that!"
At this point, Walter did the bravest thing he'd ever done in his whole life. He stepped forward, so the girls could see him, and said to Gwen, "The engagement is off, you lousy little bitch!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gwen and Peggy gawked at him, their mouths hanging open, and Walter turned and talked out of the yard. He never spoke to Gwen again. As soon as he graduated from high school, he left town, refusing his father's financial help, resolved that never again would a woman pursue him for his money.
No woman had. But none had pursued him for love, either. Walter had never had another girl friend after Gwen. He wasn't particularly sorry. The vast majority of girls he knew were too much like Gwen, out for the money and security and status of marriage, pretending to love their men when in fact they only wanted their paychecks. He was glad he'd escaped that trap. He and Gwen would be divorced by now, he'd be paying some fantastic alimony-no, he was well rid of her, and if all women were like her, then he'd just do without a woman. But hope had lingered, a dream that somewhere there existed a real woman, one who would love him for himself, one who would want passionately to make love to him, who wouldn't care how important he was or how much money he had. When he'd first met Polly Perkins, he'd dared to hope that she was such a woman. But up to now his terrible shyness had kept him from approaching her.
Now she sat on her bed, beautiful and miserable, telling him that he was too good for her. Walter laughed aloud. "Polly," he said, "that's bullshit. Nobody is too good for a girl like you. I've admired you since the day we met, and I still admire you."
Polly stared at him, tears streaking her lovely face. In her confusion, she lost her grip on the sheet, and it slipped down to reveal the long lolling globes of her magnificent tits with their red nipples. She didn't seem to notice. "Walter," she said slowly, as if stunned, "you mean you liked me even when I was ugly?"
"Of course," he said and grinned, "why not? You were still a wonderful person. Your face didn't bother me, not nearly as much as it does now." His smile faded, and he said very seriously, "You see, Polly, when you were ugly, I stood a chance with you, because I'm ugly, too. But now ... well, I guess you could have just about any man you want. You don't have to settle for somebody like me."
Polly blushed indignantly. "You talk about bullshit? THAT'S bullshit, Walter. What do you mean, settle for somebody like you? You're a wonderful, kind, intelligent man, and I'd be a fool if I rated men only on their looks. Looks mean nothing to me. I want a good man, and you're good, Walter." She saw him blush, and she said soothingly, "Come here, Walter. Come and sit with me, and let's talk. I really think we should get to know each other."
And she meant it. She really didn't know him at all, but she wanted to. In the three years she'd lived in the building, she'd noticed Walter, thought, he was nice, but hadn't bothered to find out more about him, because she automatically assumed that, like all men, he wouldn't be interested in an ugly girl. Now things were different. Her heart pounded with excitement. Was it possible that right here, right under her nose, there existed the kind and gentle man of her dreams? She had despaired of ever finding such a man, even with her newly acquired beauty. The men on the streets, on the buses, in stores-all were leering, vile, and nasty, and it was obvious that they would want only one thing from her, the exploitation of her body. But with Walter she did not feel that fear, and she didn't want to run from him. She felt safe. She smiled now and patted the bed, and he came, blushing and awkward, to sit beside her.
"I guess you know pretty much all there is to know about me," she said. "Sex-starved old maid, typical career girl who can't find a husband. But I don't know anything about you. Tell me about yourself, Walter."
He smiled at her, encouraged by her warmth. "Well, Polly, I'm a sex-starved old bachelor who can't find a wife. So already we have that much in common. But there's something about me that I've never told anybody before. The reason I've worked two jobs all these years is because-well, I have kind of a crazy dream. I want to buy a farm, way out in the country, and live there the rest of my life. I've had it with the city. I want peace and quiet and simplicity, clean air, the chance to walk around whenever I want to without being mugged. All those country virtues. And now I've done it. I've finally saved the money, bought the farm. I'll be leaving in a few days."
Polly's heart sank. So he would not be in her life after all. Why, oh, why, hadn't she made friends with him long ago, before it was too late? Still she said gently, "I don't think that's a crazy dream, Walter. I think it's wonderful, very smart and practical. I wish you luck."
"Well, ah, Polly...." He reached out very timidly and took her hand. "Maybe you don't think that sounded crazy, but you'll sure think I'm nuts when I tell you the rest of it. You see, I want you to come with me. I want you to be my wife."
Polly gawked at him. She was too overcome with happiness to reply, and Walter took her silence for refusal. He squeezed her hand, then let it go. "Yeah, I understand," he said, "and I don't blame you. A perfect stranger, a homely middle-aged man-what does a beautiful girl like you need with ME? Of course there are things I could offer you. If you came away with me, tomorrow, you wouldn't have to worry about that little fink Mickey telling on you. We'd be far away, you'd be safe. And of course you wouldn't have to work any more or worry about money. And I'd be very good to you, Polly, I promise you that. But," he sighed, "it's obvious that you could do a lot better than me."
Polly gave a strangled cry and threw her arms around him, pulling him down next to her on the bed. Damn it, she couldn't seem to find her voice, but at least she could show by her gestures how she felt about him! She kissed the astonished Walter and ran her hands eagerly over his big solid body. Then, while he still gaped at her, she tugged off the covers and lay naked before him, her eyes burning in invitation.
"Polly?" he said wonderingly. "I don't understand. You don't have to be nice to me just because you feel sorry for me. Hell, I can take no for an answer."
At last Polly recovered her speech. "Oh, you big ape!" she said and laughed, throwing her arms around him again. "How can I make you understand? I love you! I want to go with you to your farm, I want to marry you!"
"Oh, my gosh," stammered Walter. It had actually happened-his craziest, wildest dream had come true-yet he couldn't quite believe it. Even as he eagerly returned her embrace, fondling her long soft lovely body, he felt it was all too good to be true. There had to be a catch somewhere. Was she another Gwen? Was she only feigning passion, faking her love, in order to trap him into marriage? He had to know. Before committing himself, he had to find out if Polly Perkins was really the passionate, warm woman of his dreams. And he knew just how he wanted to find out. Already, with her luscious big tits rubbing suggestively against his chest, he was getting violently horny. Yes, he knew just how he wanted to test her....
"Polly," he said, easing himself down beside her, "Polly!" He ran his hands swiftly down her beautiful body, rejoicing in the silkiness of her skin, till he touched the soft little mound of fur between her thighs. She trembled but did not move away. How far would she go? Would she, like Gwen, stop him just short of fulfillment? Would she demand marriage as the price of her surrender?
That would be the test.
Walter slipped a finger between her furry lips of her mons and discovered the fat juicy bud of her clit. He caressed it, circling the hot little shaft with his finger, feeling the nub of flesh stiffen and cream.
"Ooooo, Walter!" gasped Polly, holding him tighter. "That feels so good!"
Encouraged, he seized the tiny moist clit between his fingers and began massaging it gently but insistently. Hot cream squirted from Polly's cunt to wet his hand. If she was faking her response, she was a damned good actress, that was all he could say! He moved on, mischievously caressing and palpitating the rosy slick folds of her labia, and Polly sighed deeply and opened her legs very wide to him, surrendering without hesitation. Oh, God, thought Walter, let this be for real, don't let her be just another cock-teaser! He slipped his probing finger into the tight juicy mouth of her vagina, eased it inside her narrow velvety tunnel, began to stroke . ...
"Ahh, God!" whimpered Polly. "So good...."
Then abruptly she twisted away from him, and his finger slipped out of her. That's it, he thought, end of show. That's all she's going to give me, she's no different from the others . ...
But he was wrong. Her face flushed as with a fever, her eyes glistening, Polly began to claw at his clothing, undressing him as if there were not a minute to spare. Wonderingly, he assisted her, and when he was naked, she pushed him down on his back, scrambled between his long hairy legs, and seized his half erect penis . ...
Polly couldn't believe her good fortune. It was the cock of her dreams, a good eight inches long and wonderfully thick even in its half-ready state. All her life she'd needed a cock like this, a hot pulsing length of meat big enough to stuff her cunt thoroughly, to arouse the mind-blasting orgasms she knew were buried in her and only waiting to be awakened. This was it, and to add to it all, that magnificent dick was attached to the finest man in the world. She had to have him, she could not let this man go. She wanted him urgently, as a husband, a friend, a lover, but most urgently of all, she wanted his body, wanted to touch and taste him everywhere.
"Darling!" she moaned, then threw herself flat between his legs, seized his muscular buttocks, raised him, and darted her little pink tongue mischievously, hungrily all around the puckered mouth of his anus.
"Ahhhh, Jesus!" yelped Walter as her pointy wet little tongue poked deep into his ass-hole. No woman, not even the countless whores he'd had, had done such a delicious thing to him. He moaned blissfully as she reamed him, feeling his cock swell almost to bursting. Then he gasped again as she withdrew and moved on, the fiery little tongue massaging and tickling his bloated balls. Her mouth opened-he could feel its steamy heat-and then she sucked in one huge testicle, bathing it in warm saliva, petting and massaging it with her tongue.
"Ohhhh, God!" he wailed. "Too fuckin' much, baby! Suck my balls, yeah, yeah!"
Polly's pussy creamed hotly at his words, and she redoubled her efforts, sucking his testicles so fast and hot that he yelped in excitement. She could have gone on doing it all day-it gave her intense pleasure to make him feel so good-but she was greedy, wanted to experience all of him. She moved again, seizing the iron hard shaft of his big cock, snaking her dripping tongue from root to tip, lapping up the thick cream that oozed from his purplish glans. Yes, this was what she liked best of all, sucking and licking and tasting that great hard penis. She fastened her mouth over the tip, and although it was thick enough to stretch her lips almost painfully, she drew it in slowly, lovingly, till it slipped down her throat. He was so long, she could take in all of his cock only by swallowing half of its enormous length. But she didn't mind, she loved it. She loved Walter and would do anything to please him.
Walter had had his cock sucked plenty of times before, but never like this. Whores had done it to him grudgingly, mechanically, but Polly put her heart and soul into it. She worked her cheeks, her tongue, her throat to give him exquisite pleasure. He hadn't known it was possible for his prick to swell this big, but somehow he was still growing, still hardening. His balls, too, were bloated as never before in his life, nearly bursting their tender covering. Oh, baby, he thought dizzily, have I got a load stored up for you! But if she didn't stop, he was going to shoot it in her throat instead of her cunt.
Polly felt his enormous tool halfway to her belly, and she gave muffled sounds of excitement as she worked her throat muscles all around it, feeling him swell inside her. Her hands were busy, too, probing his ass-hole, cupping and rubbing his red hot swollen balls. The aching need in her cunt was like nothing she'd ever experienced before, a demand so profound and urgent that her own fingers could never have satisfied it, nor could a vibrator or all the little-boy cocks in the world. Mickey could have balled her all day, and he would never succeed in giving her what she needed now-the heavy, deep thrusts of a grown man's dick, the kind of thorough unrelenting fuck she could get only from a real man....
"Ummmm!" she moaned, salivating powerfully all around his shaft even as she sucked it.
Walter felt the flood of hot saliva, writhed in an effort to keep himself from cumming. He would have loved to shoot his cum in her throat, but that could wait for another time-if there was another time. She hadn't been tested yet. The question was, would she let him actually fuck her, would she make the ultimate surrender of her body, would she take his frantic meat inside her belly and open herself to him completely? He had to know.
"Walter?" Polly stared at him in confusion as he pulled his dripping cock from her mouth. "What's the matter, darling?" she asked worriedly. "Didn't you like that?"
"Like it?" he laughed harshly. "Baby, I loved it! It was the best ever! But this is our first time-and I want to do it right. I want the real thing, Polly!"
He threw himself on her without waiting for a reply, jabbing his hungry prick into the warm creamy folds of her vulva. Now was the moment of truth. Would she push him away, making mincing demands for a wedding ring, or did she love him enough to fuck him without a contract, to fuck him just because she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her? Walter moaned deeply as his thirsty big prick found the mouth of her small cunt and dug deeply into her, nosing all the way to her womb.
"Ohhhh, God, yes, Walter, YES!" she wailed. "You're in me, I love it! That big fuckin' wonderful cock, oh, yes! Fuck me, darling, fuck me! I want you!"
Walter gave a little sob of relief and joy. He felt her long smooth legs wrapping him tightly, her heels digging into his buttocks, urging him on, forcing him deep into her, signaling her need for him. She hadn't held out on him. He had found a real woman at last!
"Baby," he growled, "I'm gonna fuck you right into the floor!"
"Do it, do it, lover!" she gasped, digging her nails into his shoulders, bucking her hips furiously in time to his heavy, swift strokes. "Ball me, baby, I want it! Ohhhh, God, how I want it!" And she closed her eyes, concentrating her whole being on the magnificent fuck she was getting, secure in the knowledge that she had found her man, that she would never be alone again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Jesus Christ, will you look at this!" Brent Brown was standing at the living room window, gawking, his voice hoarse with wonder. His wife Sue came running in from the kitchen.
"What is it, Brent? What--? Oh, my word!" Standing beside him, Sue stared, too, and slowly a blush rose to her pretty face. "She certainly keeps busy, doesn't she?" Sue giggled.
"Shit, they're gonna break the bed!" chuckled Brent. "Look at that guy go!"
In the gathering darkness of the evening, the young couple had a perfect view of Polly's apartment, and of Polly and Walter humping furiously on the bed.
"Golly, I hope he's not being too rough for her!" Sue tittered. In fact, the man's roughness excited her, and she felt her little pussy creaming hotly.
"Are you kidding?" Brent said. "She's really digging it! Look how she's holding on to him, the way she's got her legs wrapped around him! Man, oh, man!"
"Yess," said Sue. Her mouth hung open, and her cute little pink tongue sneaked out to lick her lips. Wow, what she wouldn't give to be balled like that, right now!
Brent felt his cock growing hard and ready. He glanced down at his nubile little bride and saw her licking her lips, saw the flush of arousal spreading over her body. "Hey, honey," he said, moving behind her, reaching up under her dress and easing down her panties, "I just got an idea...."
"You naughty thing!" shrieked Sue with mock indignation. "Is that all you ever think of?"
He opened his bathrobe, seized his hot stiff meat, and shoved it between her legs, searching out the tight mouth of her cunt. "Yep," he said, "that's all I ever think of. What about you? You ever think of anything else?"
"Noooo," tittered Sue, opening her legs a little wider. She felt him going into her, and she creamed a hot river of cunt juice, all around the thick shaft of his invading cock. Brent put his arms around her waist and held her tight against him as he began to fuck her, but neither of them took their eyes from the scene across the way.
"Jesus," Brent said. "I hope they're digging it as much as we are!"
"They are," Sue said. "I just have a feeling they are . ...
Squatting at the keyhole of Polly's apartment door, Mickey squirmed and sighed. His eyes were huge, his mouth hanging open. Holy Christ, he hadn't known what fucking was until now!
When Walter had thrown him out of the apartment, Mickey had taken a few turns around the block to cool his anger-with no success. He'd decided to return and press his demands again. If he was to remain silent, then he must continue to enjoy Polly's favors. But when he'd reached the door, there were strange noises coming from inside, harsh panting, female shrieks and cries, the noisy creaking of bedsprings. Mickey knelt and spied through the keyhole. He understood what was happening, understood Polly's passionate and wholehearted response to Walter's lovemaking, but what riveted the boy's attention was quite simply the size and power of Walter's penis. It completely overwhelmed him. Man, he thought, no wonder she prefers him . ...
Curiosity held him there till it was over, but long before that, Mickey had admitted defeat. There was no way in the world he could compete with a guy as well hung as that. Some day, when he was grown up, he might have the equipment for the job, but for the time being it was no contest. Walter had won, and Mickey knew that nothing he could do or say would win Polly back for him. Sighing, the boy went on his way. But he wouldn't have been Mickey if he'd given up entirely. Already he was plotting how to overcome the resistance of his teenage girl friends, how to enjoy with them all the delightful things Polly had taught him . ...
They lay in a pool of hot sticky cum, too lazy and content to move. "Well," Walter said, "are you going to marry me?"
"I'll think about it," Polly said. "But only if you always fuck me that well."
Walter snorted. "You thought THAT was good? Baby, that was just for openers."
