The Little-Boy Lover is Trudy Proudfoot's second novel for Surrey House, Inc. Her first book was for Rated X (RX-238) and she called it, They All Ate Candy. It was all about home demonstrations and some really special merchandise that came out during pots-and-pans parties. If you missed They All Ate Candy, copies are still available using the coupon in the back of this book.
The fact that Trudy Proudfoot is a real Indian could hardly be detected in her writings. Yet she is, an American Indian, a resident of the Barona Reservation, located a commutable distance from the metropolitan San Diego area. From her proud heritage, the depth of feelings she ascribes to her characters, especially the widow of, is easily understandable.
That the precocious little boy literally worms his way into her affections is easily understandable, and Meg Culbertson had been without a man for far too long, before the horny kid came on the scene, pants down and dangles waving.
It was also understandable that Meg wanted to escape from the overpowering mental tortures she put herself through, but if she had of known about die camp of slum boys, immediately next to her mountain cabin, there is no doubt she would not have gone there to hide.
The little boys, running around the woodland camp in the nude, tormented her anew ... and when they arranged the all-afternoon gang-bang, just for her, it was almost more than Meg could stand.
Fortunately her doctor was there to take care of her, in more ways than one. And Meg was a woman who could take an awful lot of masculine attention, regardless of age and regardless of size.
Fresh, sparkling new titles in the Surrey Collectors' Series reach your favorite news dealer or adult book store at the same time every month. We will be there waiting for you, along with the Surrey Collectors' Series companions, the Rated X books and the HIS 69 gay titles. Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private book shelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.
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Only you can do it. We here at Surrey House, Inc. only exist to serve you in these matters of great concern.
All especially significant letters will be answered directly, and all story suggestions will be turned over to our staff of writers all over the world.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
She caught them in the garage and she was shocked!
It happened shortly after dark on a Sunday. When Meg turned off the shower, she heard a faint noise. As she toweled herself dry and slipped into her bathrobe, she heard it again and it frightened her. She would never have dreamed of investigating it herself if Paul were still alive, but then she'd had to do a lot of things she didn't like to do since Paul died.
All sorts of fears raced through her brain as she made her way through the darkened house. At worst, it could be a man with a gun ... at least, perhaps only a cat, accidentally shut in when she parked her car. When she opened the door and found two boys being nasty with each other, she was so shocked that she just stood there for a moment with her mouth open.
The smaller child was squirming, his mouth covered by the older boy's hand. He was obviously being taken against his will.
Can you rape a boy? she asked herself. Perhaps attack would be a better word. Even as the thought raced through her brain, she knew it was no time to be concerned with something so frivolous as semantics.
Both boys had their pants down around their knees and the bigger boy ... he must have been about twelve ... was working his hard little penis in and out of the smaller boy's behind. Furious, Meg snapped on the kitchen light and opened the door wide. The light flooded over them.
The older boy's mouth dropped open and his eyes grew immense, but he never stopped his back and forth rhythm against the smaller boy. If anything, the foul child speeded his action instead.
"Stop that!" Meg commanded. "Stop it this instant! Oh, my God! That poor baby!"
She rushed down the stairs, determined to separate them. Seeing her coming at them, the older boy hesitated just an instant. It was enough! The terrified child beneath him jerked free, yanked up his pants in one furious motion, and darted out the side door.
"My brother'll frig your ass with a gun butt!" the child screeched as he ran.
The older boy just stood there, too petrified to move. His pants were down around his knees and his shiny, brown-streaked cock stood rigidly erect. It was very large for a twelve-year-old. The boy attached to it was scrawny and he was shaking like a leaf.
"Get your pants up! Shame on you!" Meg scolded. She could hardly look him in the eye, so disgusted was she with the vile thing he'd been doing.
He didn't budge.
"What's the matter with you?" she demanded, then her expression quickly changed. "Good heavens. Are you in shock?"
His little body was shivering all over. "Help me," he whimpered.
"You are! Oh, dear. Here, I'll pull your pants up for you. I didn't mean to frighten ... but you shouldn't be doing such things ... especially in my garage. I swear, children behave worse every year. I suppose you'll be taking drugs next ... or ... well, whatever."
As she reached for his pants, she came dangerously close to his feverish prod. She could almost feel the heat shimmering off of it as it shivered there in the air. He was so big. Good heavens! Paul hadn't been much bigger, and the boy was uncircumcised, too, just like Paul. She wondered what he would look like if she skinned his wrapper back.
"No," he whined as she began pulling up his pants.
"What? What do you mean?"
Reaching down, he curled two fingers around his shitty pole and slowly skinned it back. Meg's mouth dropped as she gaped at his tender, succulent flesh. It was wet and shiny and it was somehow the most vulnerable, magnetically erotic flesh Meg had ever seen in her life.
"I'm awful close," the boy whimpered. "Please, lady, help me cum."
"Why-I-I couldn't!" she spluttered, but her mind was already filling with a million little lewd ideas. Her crotch burned and she was frozen with indecision.
"Please," he coaxed.
"No," came a prompt, whispered reply that held not the slightest ounce of conviction.
She couldn't breathe as she stared hotly into his little-boy groin. Why, he was still such a baby that he had only a few, straggly black hairs. The rest of his crotch was bald!
Don't! This is impossible! Unthinkable! she warned herself sternly, but she couldn't make herself move away. Paralyzed, she squatted there, unable to do anything but gape at the turgid, tender flesh. Twisting his ass around, the boy deliberately pointed it at her and arched out his delectable flesh to her.
"Come on," he begged, encouraged to a sudden boldness by her lack of retreat. "You want to, don't you?"
She let it come. She quit breathing altogether but she didn't move away. The hot little poker came closer and closer and until she could smell it right beneath her nose, yet the only part of Meg that moved was her brain. That part of her was racing feverishly.
This is-insane! Get up! Send this horrid child away! You're not that kind of a woman, for God's sake.
Who would know? This little monster wouldn't tell, not when he would sneak into a stranger's garage and force his attentions on a younger boy. It's not as though you were corrupting anybody. He's obviously no good. Let him help! You need it far worse than he does!
I need this so desperately. It's been almost a year since Paul died. I haven't had anything but my own finger since ... oh God, it's coming! I can't move and it's coming right at me! God, help me if I don't want it! If he stopped now, I think I'd die!
She could hear her own breathing. It was ragged and heavy, increasing with every moment as her excitement and anticipation mounted. And the boy kept pushing it closer until it was no more than a quarter-inch away from her quivering lips.
Meg's mouth was open and dry from the labored breathing. Then his flesh brushed against her upper lip and her saliva suddenly ... instantly began to gush.
"Uhhhnnngh," she whimpered. It was the only objection she tried to make.
The hot, moist cockhead grazed around the edge of her lip until it came to rest against her lower lip.
"Please," he begged. "Suck me a little. It wouldn't hurt to suck it just a little."
It wouldn't hurt! My God!
She could taste his jism as it oozed out of his love-eye. He made a pass through her mouth and she felt his sweet little tasty dingus come to lay for a moment against her tongue. When it moved on, her tongue followed, unable to let that precious flesh go. She reached up then and took it with her hand, holding it so she could press her kisses up and down its soiled, silky length.
"Oh, suck me, mama!" the boy moaned.
Meg's cunt was on fire, but she wasn't ready to finish him off. She explored instead, licking at his bare groin, slobbering her kisses even onto his inner thighs. Such small, spindly legs ... child's legs ... a child's nuts, too. Only his cock was near man-sized ... or was it? Maybe Paul had been small.
As her own lubricating juices began to boil, the flow running down her inner leg, she nibbled at the hard base of his sex muscle, carefully cleaning it with her tongue. She was lost in a sensual, erotic dream. Her tongue came out to love it ... to lick it ... to lave it. Oh, Paul ... Paul ... how can I go on without you?
"Do it, cunt!" the child hissed. "Suck it! Suck it!"
Cunt? Was he calling her cunt? So? Let him suffer. She would not be rushed. Moving down rather than up, she began sucking the naked, tender flesh of his balls. Easily, she sucked one and then both of them in. Never had she tasted anything so tender and succulent as this!
"Damn you!" he moaned. "Bitch! Oh, please suck my cock. I'm going to fuck off before you even touch it! "
He was pulling at her hair, in a frenzy to get what he wanted, but she was so lost in her own erotic fantasy that she didn't feel a thing.
"Sonofabitch! Oh, DAMN! Please, lady! You're driving me nuts!"
He started to grab for his own prick, but she pushed his hand away. Letting her mouth relax, she let his nuts go. They were running with her saliva. Her open mouth trailed up to where his root emerged and she wetted it, lapping at it hungrily.
"Suck it!" he begged, "... suck it into your mouth. Suck my cock! Damn it! Suck it all!"
She didn't want it to blow. She wanted to love it and lick it forever. Still, she couldn't let him continue to suffer, and her own fever was now intense. Hurriedly, she nibbled up his stalk. Then her lips opened and she took him into her mouth.
"Ohhhh! Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhhh!" he moaned.
For a moment, she wallowed him around in her mouth, but soon she was sucking him greedily.
Feeling his prick slip deep into her smoldering cavern, she shivered with the overwhelming excitement of having finally done the thing they both wanted from the beginning. The need was compulsive now, for each. She felt his hands pushing on the back of her head as he began jerking his rock-hard cock in and out of her siphoning lips.
"Suck that cock, mama ... suck it good ... take it all. Oh, damn that feels so good!"
Meg responded eagerly. Pursing her lips around the stem, she twirled it with her tongue, snaking and slurping with abandon. She gripped his tight little ass, pulling his crotch in against her face just as eagerly as he was pulling her head into him. His hands were locked around her head now, just above her neck, and he was pulling her in for all he was worth. His legs jack-knifed out so precariously that only luck kept him from losing his balance and falling.
"Suck it, mama! Oh, mama-bitch, suck it good!" he chanted, and the song went on and on in a never-ending stream of obscenities.
With a jerk of his hips, he jabbed in his last. The movement forced his shaft down into her throat, and though it was small enough that it didn't hurt her any, she could feel it begin to throb. Because it was shoved so far into her, she couldn't taste the thick cream he was shooting into her. She could only feel it. She swallowed it greedily, feeling its subtle warmth slip down into her throat ... deeper, down toward her stomach ... and she ached. Oh, God, how she ached. Her cunt burned with a fire like nothing she had ever felt before in her fife.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she released him. She hadn't made it. After throwing all decency and honor out the window because of her terrible need, she still was not fulfilled.
"You still horny, lady?" he asked.
She sat on her haunches, slumped there before him and she could do nothing but shake. He laughed.
"I ain't never screwed no dame before," he said, "but if you'll take me to your bedroom, I'll give it a try."
She shook her head, too sick with shame to put up any front.
"By the time you could help me, I'll have taken care of it myself," she said. "Just get out of here."
"I can be up in three minutes if you suck it a little more," he promised.
She didn't say anything for a minute, but the words sunk in. Then, slowly, she looked up at him.
"You could?"
"Sure. I'm just a kid, remember? I can bounce back quick, like a jack rabbit. Come on."
"This is terrible. I've never done this sort of thing before. If it wasn't for...."
"Aw, cut the shit. You want to screw or not?" he demanded.
He couldn't be from anywhere around here, she thought frantically. Boys in this neighborhood could never talk like that. So? If he's from the other side of town ... if he's just over here for the one night ... who would know?
She was to remember this ridiculous line of reasoning the next day and shudder over it. Still, after getting down on her knees and sucking a twelve-year-old boy's cock, she found it necessary to go all the way through the process of rationalizing it all away again before she could take him to bed.
"I've got to do something," she admitted finally, and her teeth were beginning to chatter.
With a grin, he hoisted his pants so he could walk and then strolled on through the kitchen door.
"Where's your bedroom, lady?" he asked. "Hey, these are some diggings. If you can cook as well as you can suck, I'll drop by every day."
"No!" she cried, genuinely alarmed. "This sort of thing must never happen again."
Her protests continued, and all the while she was following him through the house. He found the bedroom more by a process of illimination than by any direction. At the door, he dropped his pants and began unbuttoning his shirt.
"Wow! This is right on ... sure beats buggering those squirming, smelly assholes," he said. "Come on. You can start blowing me up right now."
He threw himself onto the bed, legs and arms akimbo. He looked so young and thin-limbed, Meg couldn't believe it was the same boy with the aching big prick jutting out from between his legs. With his pecker limp and soft, it wasn't a hair over two inches long, and no bigger around than her own thumb. It was small and insignificant ... and to Meg, it was terribly ... terribly exciting. One look and she dropped down beside him and began to suck on it.
"Aren't you going to take your clothes off, lady?" he asked. "I want to see your pussy and tits and stuff."
She had to satisfy herself first. Sucking in his soft, spongy peter, she wallowed it around in her mouth, purring at the wondrous feel. Before it could grow, she moved her jaw down further and took in his balls as well. She had in her mouth then all of the wondrous toys of a small boy, and they were jewels of a sort that brought instant fire to the beholder. She had caressed them with her eyes. Now she caressed them with her tongue and lips.
He liked what she was doing to him....Oh, hell, yes, but he'd never played around with a woman and he wanted to see the sights. When he grew impatient and reached for her, she pushed his hand away. Without even looking up, she pulled open the knotted sash of her robe, then shoved the panels of that robe aside. She wore nothing underneath.
"Hey! WOW. Oh, jeez! That got it up, huh?"
It had. His sweet little prod was shivering with new-found strength and as it lurched to its full length, his balls were pulled from her mouth. Meg was left breathless and gasping at having felt that precious flesh go through its change. It was such an intensely erotic experience, in fact, that she'd lost the urge to get herself fucked. Shaking with excitement, she wanted only to go on sucking ... and sucking ... and....
The boy was poking his finger in around her cunt, pulling the lips apart to see what lay beneath. Soon he was so excited that he could wait no more.
"Let loose!" he grunted. "I'm going to ball you, lady. I can't stick it in your snatch if you're going to hang onto it like that. Hey!"
He hit her. With the flat of his hand, he let her have it across the face. He didn't mean to hit her hard, but she was getting too carried away with that thing and it was the only prick he had.
Anyway, it made her jump back and, in so doing, she released him. In that instant, he was on her, wallowing in her great big tits and jabbing his cock in the general vicinity of her cunt.
She grunted only once. Then, as soon as she got used to the idea, she spread out and rolled it up where he could stick her. Before she could guide him in, he'd managed to poke it in on one of his flurried thrusts.
"Ahhhhh," he sighed.
Once in, he held, not about to be turned out of that hot, moist nest that his pecker had finally found. It wasn't as tight as an asshole, but there were muscles there that he'd never met up with before and a warm saddle with tits and stuff to mess with that more than made up for it.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" he sighed again.
He was too paralyzed with excitement to move. He got his finger in the jampot and that was as far as he was able to go.
"Fuck me ... please!" she begged. "You've got to move ... push it in ... PLEASE!"
Now she was sounding like a grown-up, telling him what and when to do it. Laying there between her thighs, all nice and warm, the boy didn't care if he ever left. His cock lay deep inside of her, all stiff and throbbing, and he could feel her muscles kneading at him to make his bliss complete.
"You really need it, don't you, mama?" he teased.
And then he had a need of his own. Drawing his ass up away from her, he pressed the soft, pliable flesh of his cockhead in against her spread crack, sending spasms of exciting thrills flashing through him, and to his surprise, she moaned.
"Yes ... oh, yes! I want it ... I need it. Please!" Her voice was a passionate whimper, for her entire body had begun to shake. He could feel her juices boiling up as the burning hotness of his cock pressed into her. It slithered down and down until she was squeezing his crotch with her grabbing, kneading cunt. She let out a deep and satisfied moan.
These sounds ... these sounds of delight and passion, thrilled him. Suddenly he was as good as any full-grown man for he could make a woman passionate with his mighty prick. He jabbed it more deeply into her, making his hard piece of meat spread her as it crawled deep into her dark channel. He was more than a man now. He was a god.
She began moving her hips in circles as he worked, for he was still small and she wanted to feel him every place that she could. The slickness of her cunt and the slosh of her juices made his small prod like a stir stick, churning her ardor to a white-hot heat.
All shame and embarrassment was blotted out by the red haze of lust that burned in her brain. Her mind reeled as the sensations engulfed her, triggering bizarre fantasies of what she now did. Many times in the past she'd had to depend on those fantasies to see her through a crest. Now she was fantasizing reality for what she did here tonight was far more bizarre than anything she had ever managed to image. This night, she simply let her mind float, moving out away from herself far enough to image and watch what she was doing. She stood, figuratively, gaping at her own ripely mature body being fucked by a small boy ... a boy with the tenderest, most succulent genitals that she'd ever seen in her life. It was as erotic as any scene she could have imagined.
Again she reached for his ass, as she had before, but this time she held it with her legs instead of her hands. Hotly, she ground his little body down against her own with a total, fierce commitment. Her cunt was trying its best to devour his little plunging cock.
"Give it to me!" she moaned. "Let me feel him blow up inside of me."
As she spoke, her snatch coaxed and sucked on his stiff muscle, drawing it out to its full length while pulling and tugging at the shivering, sensitive head. She could feel her orgasm approaching, bubbling up with that last, wonderful surge of passion, and she desperately wanted the boy to make it with her.
"Fuck me! Fuck me! I'm going to cum," she wailed.
Either he didn't know or he didn't care, for he would not be rushed. His hips kept a steady, unhurried pack as his cock slid in and out of her. Riding just below the threshold of her passion, she knew that his deliberate delay would keep her from reaching any crest at all before long. She was stretched tight, her nerves drawn to the last possible degree.
"Faster! Harder! Give it to me, you little bastard!" she screamed. "Let me have it! Make me cum! Make me cum!"
She was in tears, her voice rising and falling with her motions. Then, suddenly he cried, "Let's go!"
Now his hips worked violently, thrusting into her channel until she wanted to scream with delight. He was the over-eager boy, the humping dog, the ram screwing his sheep, only Meg was no passive sheep. With her legs locked around his small ass, she worked with him. Her hips thrust violently, though she could no longer control her rhythm.
As her lust overcame her, she lunged frantically at his stabbing pointer. Moving her hips in large, grinding circles, she forced his little cock to scrape against her cunt walls and poke into every inflamed recess.
Finally, with one powerhouse lunge, she shuddered into her crest. Pushing ... pushing, she felt herself roll over the edge. Then the boy's prick gave a mighty jerk and she felt his cum begin to pour. She held her breath as his cock pulsed deep within her, and then her body went limp.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" she moaned.
Passion flooded over her and she lay there, savoring the feel of the stiff, jerking cock within her. Her excitement had been so great that her own juices were now dripping off the boy's balls.
"It's been so long ... so long," she moaned. "Dear God, I'm so sorry, but ... it's been so long! "
"Hey, wow!" the boy panted. "That was a great piece of tail you put out, lady. Man, I'll give you a little any time you like."
"NO!" she wailed. "I don't want to ever see you again."
"Oh, bullshit," he snorted. "You'll be hot to trot in no time. My big brother says there ain't a dame in the world that really means no. Jeez! My own fucking mama. Ain't this cool?"
She didn't hear any more. Rushing into the bathroom, she locked the door, and she stayed there until the boy had gone.
CHAPTER TWO
Meg was sure that she was losing her mind. She waited for what seemed like hours before she dared leave the bathroom, although she'd heard the boy leave some time before. Then she spent several more hours pacing the floor. Miserably, she realized that she couldn't even tell Dr. Monleon about it. He'd helped her so much after Paul died. He'd even explained that some of her mental anguish was caused by the sudden lack of sexual fulfillment ... and he'd said it without unduly embarrassing her. Gently, he'd gone on to suggest a vibrator or whirlpool bath, hinting that she badly needed release.
Yes, as a psychiatrist, he could appreciate a normal, healthy need for sex, she thought, but this thing she had done tonight ... no, she could never tell him that. It was not normal. It was terribly ... terribly wrong.
She went to bed, but every time she closed her eyes she could see that young, rigid cock in front of her lips. It made her bum even to think of it, yet, when she was not berating herself ... when she relaxed enough to let the torture go, that's when the erotic vision immediately returned.
For the first time in her life, Meg took two sleeping pills, then watched television until her eyes dropped shut.
In her dreams, the little boys came prancing out before her, each a little younger than the last, each with an irresistible pecker either dangling or jutting from between his legs. By morning, she was more exhausted than she'd been in weeks, and her jaw ached where she had unconsciously sucked and worked the imaginary cock flesh throughout the night.
Through the days that followed, Meg kept herself as busy as possible, and she was careful to lock her doors at night for fear that horrid little boy might return. She went to her doctor, asked for and obtained a prescription for more potent sleeping pills. Her doctor sternly advised that she make an appointment to have a thorough physical.
"Meg, you look terrible!" he intoned. "What in God's name are you doing to yourself?"
"Nothing. I just haven't been able to sleep," she lied. "I'll be fine in a day or two."
"You're not sick?"
"No."
"Then you should call Monleon. There has to be some reason why a perfectly healthy woman suddenly starts looking like a zombie."
"You're exaggerating," she said. "How many zombies have you ever seen?"
"I'm looking at one. Now, are you going to call Monleon or shall I?"
"I will," she lied.
Of course, she didn't. After what she'd done, she was sure she could never consult with him again. That afternoon, Monleon called her, "I heard my most beautiful patient has turned into a zombie," he said, ignoring any more subtle approach.
"Doctors gossip a lot," Meg observed.
"He scratches my back ... you know the bit."
"There are such things as ethics."
Monleon chuckled. "You coming in?" he demanded.
"I-I don't think so."
"Is it something so bad you can't even tell your psychiatrist? My God! "
He was only joking with her, but it didn't help to realize it. He'd hit far too close for comfort.
"I'll come in if I can," she said, her tone thoroughly dead. "I have to go now, Doctor."
"Meg?"
"Yes?"
"I kid you, but I'm here whenever you need me ... not professionally, Meg ... as a friend."
"Thanks, Don."
"Okay, I've said my piece. Good-bye, Meg."
"Good-bye," she whispered and quickly hung up the receiver.
Meg wasn't sure why she cried after that. It just seemed like a good idea. Then she called the beauty parlor and got herself edged in. An afternoon under a noisy hairdryer seemed like another good idea, and her ego certainly need some shoring up.
By the time her hair had been combed out, she felt better, and she looked better, too, she decided. After all, it had been four days and she hadn't been bothered by the boy. There was no reason to think he'd try to force his way in. The rest was simply mind over matter. She'd have to get ahold of herself. She walked out of the beauty parlor feeling stronger than she had since the whole mess began.
Then it happened again. There was this boy ... a Negro. He was leaning against the building and he didn't even glance her way, but his flanks were narrow and his pants tight, and Meg could not keep her eyes off his immensely bulging crotch.
My God, she thought frantically, when is it ever going to stop?
Her cheeks burned as she stood there, and for the life of her she couldn't move. Fortunately, the boy did, for a car pulled up and another boy beckoned to him. Pushing away from the building with his shoulder, he eased on out to the curb, so cool and so muscular that Meg broke out in a cold sweat just watching the way he moved.
When he was gone, Meg called a cab and gave the driver her psychiatrist's address. She couldn't tell him what she'd done, she decided, but she was going to have to talk to him about her sudden preoccupation with sex. A thing like this could be dangerous, both physically and mentally. To lose control of herself to the point that she could not move or turn her head away was to invite certain disaster unless she could get herself under control.
However, when the cab pulled up in front of Monleon's office, she could not go in. She sat there a moment then gave the driver her own address. She could not bring herself to share such intimately disgusting details, even with him.
Meg had a neighbor over for dinner that evening, and they managed to find two other women for a game of bridge afterward. Her company didn't leave until after eleven.
Maybe now I can get some rest, she thought. A bath, a sleeping pill ... that ought to do it.
She started the water running then stood in front of the mirror, idly watching herself as she undressed. At thirty-five, she was still immensely attractive. Her hair was a deep, rich brown, so dark as to be called black most of the time; full of body and shining with light, it hung halfway to her waist when it wasn't set. The beautician had molded this mass into a Grecian coiffeur of long curls, drawn back away from her face. A single curl dangling from either temple was left to soften the lines of her face.
Meg's eyebrows were rich and thick. She plucked here and there, but never needed any color. Her lashes were long, and when she used an eyelash curler, most people thought they were fakes. Her skin was still moist, unwrinkled, and almost porcelain in color, a surprising contrast to her dark hair.
All in all, she decided, she was holding her age miraculously well. Her large breasts were still as firm as they were at twenty, and her hips had spread only enough to eliminate the stick look she'd had as a child. She had never carried a baby in her belly, never spread to give birth. There were no stretch marks or breaks to mar her flawless complexion.
I'm beautiful. Useless, but still beautiful ... so why don't I go out and find a man? Why do I hole up here, playing bridge with old ladies until I'm so keyed up that I have to play with little boys? Oh damn! I'm back on that subject again!
Meg pulled her mind quickly away, like jumping back from a hot stove. Then she remembered the water which was close to overflowing by this time. After quickly twisting the knobs to off, she laid out a fresh towel and washcloth and found a fairly recent copy of Readers' Digest. That would take her mind off things.
She climbed in, intending to soak for at least an hour, but soon she began to worry. Had she remembered to lock the back door after Beth and Sara left? She'd locked the front door ... she was sure of that ... when Milly left, but the back ... Lord, and the side door to the garage. Good heavens, she was almost certain she'd forgotten the garage.
After scarcely scanning "Humor In Uniform," she closed the magazine, laid it on the floor and quickly began lathering herself. There was no use trying to relax with such thoughts on her mind. Rinsing off, she got up and toweled herself dry. Then she grabbed up a robe and set out to check the doors. Both back and front were securely locked, but the garage and kitchen doors were not.
It was after midnight before Meg climbed into bed, popped a sleeping pill into her mouth, and turned out the light. In ten minutes, she was fast asleep.
It didn't last long. First there was a cold draft, then a warm, fleshy feeling next to her leg, and then she distinctly felt a hand graze softly over her breast. She was so sleepy, and the feeling was so good, but a part of her brain nagged and worried her back to consciousness.
"Wha...? Where am...? Who...? OH, my God! NO! Not again!"
"Hi, lady," the boy chirped. "I'm back, but I sure didn't expect you'd wake up this quick."
"I can't ... how did you get in?" she stammered tearfully.
"I got here while you were playing cards," he admitted. "I waited around until you went to sleep 'cause I didn't want no hassle, you know? But damn, you woke right up. I figured you'd stay asleep until...."
"You've got to leave this minute," Meg said sternly. Raising up on one elbow, she reached for the lamp on the bedside table, but he caught her arm and pulled it back.
"Better listen first," he said with just enough suggestion that she had to hear. He was, after all, a vile enough child to be capable of anything, she decided. She paused, and he let his hand slide down her arm and over her breast onto her belly.
"I've been thinking a whole lot, lady," he said. "I figure you need a kid like me around ... to mow the lawn and stuff. You know?" Finding her hand, he took it and carried it to his small, rigid pole. "I don't think you'd want to go tell people about us, and I know I wouldn't spoil a good thing, so I don't want to fink on you. Mmmmm, feel good? Anyway, I guess you had a pretty good time the other night, and I liked it a lot, so why don't you leave the light out and let's mess around a while?"
"You don't know the torture it put me through," Meg whined. "I can't go through it again. Son, you're too...."
"Not son ... my name is Danny," he said.
"All right, Danny," she said. "At any rate, you're too young to realize how wrong...."
"What's your name?"
"Mrs. Culbertson."
"No, your name...."
"... ah, Margaret. My friends call me Meg, but you're really not...."
"Meg ... I like that. You're a real nice-looking lady, Meg," he said. "I've been feeling awful good 'cause of you. Mmmmmmm, not as good as now ... but I get so horny sometimes, I just can't stand it. That's when I go find some kid too little to fight back. You're really helping me out, Meg, 'cause I'll get in awful trouble if I ever get caught reaming a little guy's ass. I figure you've got the hornies and I've got the hornies so we can sort of help each other out."
Meg wished she could rationalize it all away like that. She couldn't ... yet, she was....She hated the idea ... yet, she was already burning to throw back the covers and look and love what she now only felt with her hands.
And it felt divine! So soft, like the softest kid glove, and the skin slid so smoothly as she worked it out and in. His balls ... could they be as tender as she remembered? Lord, yes ... they were....They were! So small. They were marbles ... what were the big ones called? She couldn't remember. There were taus and megs ... she always got mad when the kids called her marbles.
"We're going to be good for each other," he said as he snuggled in against her. She didn't answer.
His hand slid inside her gown where he could squeeze her tit, but otherwise, he lay motionless, praying she would never stop. She was stroking him in the most marvelous way. Her hands would close over his bat and balls like a clam closing over its prey. Then she'd pull her hands away, the wrists pressed together and the fingers trailing over his flesh as she gently pulled them to her. When first his balls and then his pole quivered free, he felt an almost overwhelming burst of excitement flood through him. Then, before he could catch his breath, it started all over again.
"Meg?" he asked finally.
"Yes?"
"You going to suck me a little?"
"Yes!"
He waited but she made no move to change the slow, sensuous rhythm of her hands.
"Meg?"
"Yes?"
"I'm getting awfully hot," he whined. "Maybe you better do it pretty soon, if you're going to."
"There's plenty of time," she whispered.
She was a woman possessed. No longer did she moan and rail over her compulsively lewd behavior. Now, she didn't care. She was to have a second night of sex. She had succumbed, and she knew she would pay for it a thousand times over tomorrow. For what must be paid for so dearly, she might as well enjoy as much as she could.
Reaching over, she snapped on the light, then pulled back the covers so that she could see his dearest parts. As she stared hungrily down at him, she pulled up her nightgown and skinned it up and over her head. The boy gazed at her with a far-away, contented smile. Passively, he waited for what she had to give.
"So your name is Danny," she said.
"Yes."
"I've dreaded the thought of ever meeting you again," she said, matter-of-factly. "Do you know that?"
He nodded. "That's why I wasted all that time until you were asleep. I figure we're a lot alike, but it's harder for you to ... well, to come around."
She leaned over him then, and her tits grazed sensuously over him. "I've come," she rasped, "and I'm going to cum and cum and cum ... until we're both sick of the whole thing. Somehow, I'm going to get over you ... over this whole, dirty business ... even if I have to screw my way through it. Now, shut up and let me get my mouth on it. "
Danny weighed in at eighty-five pounds; his paramour was a well-padded hundred and thirty-five. Danny was four-foot-ten, Meg a stately five-six. However, Danny had a nipple-sized mouth, his sex partner a mouth-sized nipple. Danny had a pintsized prick ... Meg a prick-sized mouth ... and everything of one that touched the other brought about a shock of excitement. Danny was the positive ... Meg the negative. Together, they were the alpha and the omega.
The softly-padded woman twisted around to lay against the hard, small-boned boy, and her mouth took in his cock and turned him into a god. Hugging her big tits, he found himself staring into her cunt, the first he'd ever looked at close in his life.
At first it repulsed him, but as her tongue gently began to suck and the fire rippled through him, her old cunny began to look better and better. Pretty soon, it even smelled good ... kind of hot and sexy. By God, if she kept on sucking him like that, he might even stick his tongue in that thing before it was over. A guy'd have to be awful hot to do a thing like that to a girl. They were built clean and neat like a guy.
Meg was oblivious to all but that precious, delectable flesh within her mouth. How could anything on this whole miserable earth compare? she wondered. Drawing away from him, she stared at it, all wet with her saliva and when she slowly skinned it back with her fingers, the sight of his smooth cockhead still made her shiver. What wonders that wrinkly skin tried to hide from her hungering view. His little cockhead was so perfectly formed with a heart-shaped ridge that was quite pronounced. His sweet little love-eye squeezed out a tear even as she stared at it, and she leaned down and flicked it into her mouth with her tongue. Then it was back into her mouth with his entire prod, for it was too sweet to be left alone.
Her hand worked over his balls and then moved on to massage his tiny ass. When she discovered his tight little asshole, she massaged it compulsively, promising herself to explore it further later on.
She was drooling so heavily that the fluids were pouring out of her mouth, and her cunt felt like it was weeping almost as much. The boy was obviously greatly moved, for he was squirming and moaning as he jabbed his thin hips up against her.
When his short fuse threatened to blow, and she knew that his cum was about to come, it excited her so that she almost had an orgasm on the spot.
"Meg!" he whimpered. "I'm fucking off. Oh, Meg! I'm going to CUMMMMMMMMMM!"
Do it! her brain screamed. Let me have it! Let me have your cum!
Just as his cream began to spurt, the boy shoved his face into Meg's steaming pussy. Sucking and wallowing in her woman-juices, he jabbed his pecker furiously into Meg's mouth.
Greedily, she took him. Voraciously, she took it all.
Then, the shock of his mouth in her cunt brought her suddenly and furiously over the brink with him. He felt her explode and then, together, they soared.
Fire swept through her; passion crashed around her.
"AHHHhhhhhh!" and a week of tense misery was relaxed.
It was wild ... it was intense, but even as they both went limp, they knew that it wasn't enough. This madness was a disease, one which would have to run its course, getting more and more feverish ... more and more demanding, until some sort of a crisis had past. Meg had a sinking feeling that it could be fatal. Then, shrugging off what was to come, she turned around and took the boy in her ample arms.
"It's sure great, doing it in a bed," Danny mused. "I always seemed to pick the wettest bush in the park to hide behind, and it's hell getting your ass all wet and cold when you drop your pants."
"I guess we all have to hide, one way or another," Meg answered. "Now come here. Let me see that sweet little dingus while it's still soft."
CHAPTER THREE
Throughout the night, Meg shoved any thought of wrong out of her head. It wasn't until she was alone, in the grim light of morning, that shame flooded in on her. Then it came in such an overwhelming gush that she was completely hysterical for several hours. In anguish, she pounded her fists against the mattress and soaked her pillow with bitter tears.
How could a heart that meant so well exist in a body that was so weak? Could the soul really be so black? Surely she had a soul. How could she have gone through life blandly avoiding so much evil and still have all this evil in her? Good heavens, she'd never even taken up smoking!
Meg? Oh, heaven's no. She doesn't smoke. Sucks little boys' cocks now and then, but you'd never catch a filthy cigarette in her mouth.
I'm going mad. That's it. No normal person could think up such perverse ideas.
But it wasn't my idea ... none of it. I didn't set out to seduce boys. He was there, being nasty in my own garage ... and I'd been without it so long. If he wasn't with me he'd be out forcing his attentions on some innocent child. He said so himself!
When her arguments became too fierce, she'd again dissolve into tears. She did not get dressed or make any attempt to straighten herself out through the entire day. It was not until the shadows of the late afternoon began to lengthen that she realized something had to be done. Night was coming and with the night, he could always find a way to return. If she was to prevent a repeat of this last night's performance, she was going to have to do it now. Her conscience ... even her sanity demanded that she make the effort.
To this point, she had been like the sheaf of grain, bending before the wind. To have to admit that she had given in to a twelve-year-old child was ridiculous but, at least on the surface, it was the truth.
Now, however, she knew that if she stayed exactly where she was, making no drastic changes in her life, he would come to her again and again. And when he did, her presence in that house meant that she was, quite literally, asking for it. That, she could never do.
She paced. She fretted. She thought of a dozen people she should consult and discarded every one. She thought of another dozen people she could visit, but eventually she would have to say good-bye and head for home. And how could she explain such a visit?
When the solution came to her, it was so obvious, she was furious for not having thought of it sooner. There was the cabin, that white elephant she'd been trying to sell ever since Paul died. He couldn't follow her there. He could not leave home that long, she hoped, and even if he could, and if he somehow found her mailing address, he could never find the cabin. She'd hated it when Paul bought a place so far from everything. They had no neighbors closer than five miles and the closest store was ten!
Now that same location was perfectly suited to Meg's needs. It was already four o'clock and if she set her mind to it, she could be ready to leave by five. She called Sara first.
"I'm going up to the cabin," she announced.
"Got a buyer?"
"Nope. I'm going to commune with nature myself."
"Balls."
"Sara, I don't have much time and I need your help."
"You've met a man."
"Sara!"
"Sorry. Go on."
"Could you tell the paper boy to stop delivery ... and call Mr. Jennings about the milk?"
"Sure."
"And tell Beth and Milly for me. Tell them I tried to call them and their lines were both busy ... must have been talking to each other."
"When will you be back?"
"I don't know. I may stay a couple of weeks, Sara. I've been moping around here for so long, and I just keep feeling worse. I got to thinking about how I'd let the cabin go. It hasn't been painted in three or four years, so I'm going to kill two birds with one stone. It'll feel good having something to do, and painting and fixing up that cabin will help me get it sold."
"Makes sense," Sara said, "but give me a call every once in a while so we won't worry about you. Okay?"
"Will do," Meg readily agreed. "You won't forget Mr. Jennings or the paper boy?"
"I won't forget. Have fun and get to feeling good. You've been lousy at bridge lately."
"Thanks. 'Bye."
"Good-bye."
Meg hurriedly began to pack. She did not take time to sort, but took all of her slacks, shorts, blouses, and loungewear. To this she added her lingerie and all of her casual shoes. A few sweaters and jackets finished off the fourth suitcase. Then, picking up her train case, she moved on in to clean out the bathroom of cosmetics, hair supplies, and medicines.
Ah, she remembered, the sleeping pills are in by the bed. Mustn't forget precious oblivion.
When she retrieved them, she found that there were only six capsules left. She certainly didn't want to have to drive back to the city for a prescription refill.
The telephone number was on the label. She dialed the pharmacy.
"Lomay's Drug," answered the pharmacist.
"Hello," she said. "This is Meg Culbertson. I picked up a prescription for sleeping pills last week ... on Thursday, it was ... I have six left but I'm leaving for the mountains for several weeks. I'll need a refill."
"What is the prescription number, Mrs. Culbertson?" he asked.
She gave it to him and then waited while he looked it up.
"I'll have to call Doctor Brian for an okay," he said. "Can I call you back?"
"Certainly," Meg said, and she gave him her number. "I'd like to leave within the hour if possible," she cautioned.
"I'll call you back within ten minutes," he promised.
She hoped Dr. Brian wouldn't call with a lot of questions, but if he did, she'd let him know that she didn't like having him tell Dr. Monleon her business. Yes, she decided, he should be told.
She never got the chance, for Dr. Brian never called. In the midst of performing minor surgery when the call came, he could do little but okay the refill. He reminded himself to call her as soon as he got the chance, and, in fact, he actually did, but by that time it was too late. Meg Culbertson was on her way.
The farther away from the city Meg got, the more she was able to relax. By the time she reached the foothills, she was feeling better than she had in weeks.
This is the best idea I've had in months, she decided.
Meg was totally surprised at the village of Piney Hill. It had grown so, she hardly recognized it. There were three new ski lifts she noticed on the way in that should have warned her. There were new cabins everywhere she looked and even a rustic Alpine shopping center in place of the general store.
It irritated her, for her cabin had been up for sale for a full year without a nibble. Either the place was a lot worse than she remembered it or there were some lazy real estate men in Piney Hill. Of course, Paul had picked a remote place for a cabin, she told herself. Still, it wasn't that remote.
Meg was almost afraid she'd find cabins all the way up to her place, since she'd come to be alone, but the last three miles into her road was still virgin timber. She was greatly relieved.
Her relief was short lived, however, for less than thirty feet from her turn off she saw a freshly cut road angling off into the timber in almost the same direction as her road.
"Good Lord," she muttered.
Braking to a halt, she saw a sign hanging from a high board raised above the gate. She could not make out the words from her car. Irritated, she backed up and angled in enough so that the outer rim of light from her headlamps caught the name carved into the board. MALLOWAY, it read, and in smaller words below ... Boys' Camp.
Oh, my God!
Her heart hit dead bottom and stayed there. It felt like lead laying against her chest.
Her thoughts raced.
Fate is playing tricks on me! Trying to drive me insane ... but I won't let it. No wonder they couldn't sell the place with a camp full of noisy youngsters next door. I wonder how far away they are, really. Well, all I have to do is keep to myself, hike in the other direction and ignore them. I'm running away from one particular little boy, after all ... not the whole childish herd. No reason to go to pieces. May even be good for me to have to talk to some normal youngsters. Yes, it would help push away the sordid things, the talk and the movements. If I actually talked to a normal kid, I'd probably see how foolish all this has been. One rotten apple ... that's what he was. Oh, not that I'm going to go looking for a boy to talk to. Lord, no! I'd rather not have to talk to anyone up here ... but if I happened onto one. Well, there'd be no need to panic.
In the half-a-minute it took these thoughts to rush through her brain, Meg managed to rationalize herself from near-panic to a fairly substantial calm. Pulling her car back on the road, she made the wide swing onto her own road and headed in to her cabin. It was a little less than half a mile. She met a deer standing in the road, his eyes shining as he stared into the headlights. His proud head carried a magnificent set of antlers ... she thought six points but she couldn't be sure. For a couple of seconds he stood there, poised against the dark shadows of the forest. Then he darted into the night. Meg was smiling as she pulled up in front of the cabin. Just seeing the buck and being here in the brisk mountain air made her feel cleaner inside.
She was chilled to the bone by the time she got everything inside and got a fire going in the fireplace. It was so like Paul to cut kindling and make up the fireplace before they left. All she had to do was light the match, but she felt eerie inside as she did. Paul had been alive when he crumpled that old newspaper and carefully laid in kindling and logs. Now he was gone.
She shook her head and set about removing the dust covers from the furniture. Like the fireplace, she found the kerosene lamps filled and ready to light. Then she began putting up groceries and found a very dead mouse in the mousetrap under the sink. She remembered Paul setting the trap and for a moment, she was sorry that she had come.
Lugging her four heavy suitcases up to the loft where the bed was took her mind off the other, except that once she thought, I never had to lug these darn things when Paul was here. And things had seemed so wonderful when I saw the deer. Remember that deer, old girl. Things are going to be wonderful!
The cabin was an A frame ... one of those do-it-yourself kits that was always tempting Paul, and he had done it himself quite well. There were a lot of innovations that never came with any kit, including a flush toilet, an old tub (with eagle and ball feet), and a butane hot water heater to make the bath worth while. There was no electricity, but Paul had installed butane lamp jets in various places where light fixtures are usually found, and there were many portable kerosene lamps. He had managed to create a place that made you feel like you were roughing it, but always comfortably.
By midnight, Meg was tucked into a freshly made bed and had taken her sleeping pill. Hopefully drowsy, she browsed through a Woman's Day. She wished she had the patience for needlepoint, but doubted she ever would. Nice patterns, though. She read about a new diet since she'd added five sloppy pounds since Paul died. Nobody else could see it, but she knew it was there. Then she found a recipe for a cheese-cake and whip cream dessert that was topped with glazed cherries.
Well, she thought, that blows the diet. First time I have to go into Piney Hill, I'll pick up the makings.
As soon as her eyes began to droop, she blew out the lamp and stretched out.
"I'm back to normal, she thought warmly as she drifted off. I can feel the difference already.
She felt that way for most of the next morning, for she was busy with her moving in. Then, as she began having to think of jobs to do, her thoughts again grew grim.
I need to get out ... take a walk, but how can I when I don't know what direction that damnable camp is? That road could curve in and all the way around me for all I know ... or they could be just on the other side of those trees. Damn! I'm afraid to go anywhere until I know.
She stewed about it on into the afternoon. Then about three, she had an idea.
"I'll drive up the road and see. It's the only way I'm going to be able to relax. It's probably fifteen miles from here on the other side of the mountain ... either way, I've got to know.
Grimly determined, she locked up the cabin (she'd been careful to lock everything she owned since Danny showed up the second time). Then she climbed into her car and drove back out to the road, keeping care to keep her sense of direction constantly alert. In the heavy timber the road could veer slightly and she could misjudge how closely it paralleled her own road.
She found the gate to Malloway Boys' Camp not only closed but heavy and cumbersome enough to make it difficult to budge. Clumsily, she wrestled it back and drove through, being careful to close it before she went on.
Check your speedometer, she reminded herself. That's using your head. Better write it down.
She drove slowly, hawk-eyeing every twist in the road. Frequently, she'd try to imagine how far it was over to her own road. This continued for a mile and then she knew she was well past her own place. She began to breathe easier.
I ought to turn around the next chance I get, she decided. As long as they're this far away, I won't have to worry about them. Let's see. It's one mile and six tenths now. Oh, thank heaven. Now if I could just find a place to turn around.
The trees had been cleared only a road width and a few feet. Further, the rocks and dirt hillocks removed to form the road had been scraped to the side arid left, forming a ridge of debris a foot or more high on either side. There was no break in either the trees or the ridges for another mile. Then, with startling suddenness, she found herself in the camp!
She knew exactly where she was now, for the camp was in the only meadow in ten miles and Fish creek ran through the middle of it. She gave little thought to the changes they had made, however, for a dammed-up pond a few feet from her car, a dozen attractive little boys were scampering around in the nude!
That's all I needed! she thought furiously, but her eyes were already riveted on wet, shiny little bodies. A young man, also in the nude, was directing them from the shore. When he caught sight of Meg, he grabbed up a towel and quickly wrapped it around his long, hair-surrounded dick, then marched over to her car.
"Lady, you're not supposed to come in here," he scolded.
Her eyes still on the boys, she mumbled something about owning the cabin next door.
"I hadn't been up here in a year ... couldn't understand why it wouldn't sell ... all this is new."
"Yes, well, I'm sorry about that. This is a state experimental camp for underprivileged boys, so if you've got any complaints you'll have to call the welfare department. You can't stay here."
Meg's face was burning along with her crotch. With a herculean effort, she whirled away from the sight of munchy little penises.
"Get out of my way!" she snapped.
Setting the car in drive, she pushed her foot on the gas pedal, steered a tight, screeching circle around the drive, and roared back down the road.
"Oh, God!" she wailed. "I shouldn't have gone there! Now it's all back ... it's all there!"
The bum in her crotch was certainly there like hell's own fire. Like a maniac she raced to the main road, opened the gate, squealed around and ripped up into her own drive. Skidding to a frantic halt, she jerked out the keys and set the brake at the same time. The car door slammed shut with such force that it sent chipmunks and rabbits scurrying for half a mile.
In the door, up the stairs, and to the bed ... kicking off her shoes so vigorously that one landed in the living room below.
I can't stand it! I can't go through this again!
Then she bawled ... convulsively, with such an all-consuming power that it was more seizure than surrender. After an hour or two, exhaustion set in, but as soon as she began to relax, the vision of those little boys and their precious, dangly water slick peters came sharp into her brain. In three-D, wide screen, and full color, she could see them all. That stud of a coach couldn't have been more then seventeen or so, and he was such a contrast to the boys with his wiry bush and his fat, dark pecker hanging all warm and relaxed in the sun. Only a few of the boys had any hair there. Their little cocks, for the most part, hadn't even begun to darken. Like the tastiest com that has developed its kernels but not yet turned yellow, these boys sported genitals that were unbelievably tender. Even the thought of that succulent flesh made Meg's mouth water.
"I can't live with this! I can't! I can'!" she wailed.
She rolled, she bawled, she went through a frenzied hysteria that persisted far into the night. Yet, whenever she pulled herself together and managed to regain some semblance of composure, the erotic dreams soon began. Until the sun flooded into her room the following morning, she was not able to break the destructive cycle.
I've got to get ahold of myself, she thought. I'd be better off at home ... even with Danny, than to lay around and go off my rocker here.
She got up and made herself a pot of coffee.
I'll take a walk ... maybe climb the mountain, and I'll get myself so exhausted I can't put one foot in front of the other. Then I'll drop into bed, take two of these potent sleeping pills and get some sleep. It's sleep I need. I'll be able to think better after I've had some sleep.
It was an ambitious program, but she felt better as she sipped her coffee. At least she was doing something constructive to get herself going again. She even toasted some bread in the oven and poached herself an egg. She felt almost human as she set out.
She headed east, since the boys' camp was due west. After half a mile, the trail began to climb. She was on her way up the mountain. It wasn't a high mountain, as mountains go, but it did afford a good view of the surrounding, forest-clad countryside. It was also high enough to exercise a person's muscles and cause him to breathe heavily by the time he reached the top.
For a time, she didn't notice the effort. She found a tiger lily blooming beside a rotten stump, and the trilliums, their flowers long since turned brown, dotted the forest floor. There was a blue jay who heaped abuses on her for intruding upon his private domain and a robin that ignored her completely.
The effort soon began to tell, however, and the more the effort, the less beauty she bothered to see. She argued with herself to turn back, as tired as she was, but she kept stubbornly plugging along until the big boulders that capped off the mountain top were in plain sight up ahead.
This is far enough, she thought, I've made it.
But she did not turn back. That same, almost superstitious streak that had kept her from stepping on lines and cracks all the way to school when she was a small child now forced her to reach die very top before it would let her start down. She could not force herself to be practical about it.
"All right, all right," she grumbled sheepishly, "but it is ridiculous!"
So? I go clear to the top, she thought absently. The view's better from there anyway. It's silly to get this close and then not see it.
On up she went, her neck and shoulders knotting with the effort. She had just reached the top and relaxed ... perhaps collapsed would be more accurate ... when she was startled out of her senses by a voice.
"You ain't making me go back," come the high pitched, boyish wail. "I won't ... no matter what you say."
Meg closed her eyes for a minute and shuddered. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. Slowly she turned toward the sound and found herself staring at a golden haired, beautiful little boy.
CHAPTER FOUR
If she'd been standing, she might have run, but having sat down and let the strain flow out of her body, she had no defenses left. Her muscles would not move.
"I'm not from the camp," she said wearily. "You should go back before they miss you, though."
"Oh they've missed me, all right," he assured her proudly. "I've been up here all night long."
She shook her head. "I live closest to the camp and no one came asking for you."
He's younger than Danny, she thought. What an adorable, defiant little waif.
"That's 'cause they'd figure on me heading the other way," he said confidently. "I thought of that. They'd just naturally figure I'd head for home. Right?"
"If you say so," she mumbled.
He'd come over to where she was sitting then leaned back against a big boulder. Slowly, he let himself slither down that boulder until he was squatting on his haunches, his back still back against the rock. It was a show of bravado by an obviously very lonesome little boy, but when his knees jack-knifed out, it opened his crotch up with its tight covering of denim pants over a large, soft-looking bulge. The urge to reach out and touch ... to stroke and feel that spongy tenderness was almost more than Meg could bare.
"What are you doing up here?" he asked.
She shrugged, with a pretense of casualness, for her face was beginning to bum, and she could not take her eyes from that bulge.
"Just walking," she managed.
"You come here often?" he asked.
"No. I used to but not any more."
Her hands itched. Her elbow knotted and she could feel the tendons pull with the desire to reach out to him.
"How come?"
"My husband died a year ago," she said. "We came here often together, especially in the winter. He liked to ski."
"Gee, I'm sorry."
"It's all right. What's your name?"
"Mike."
"Well, Mike, if you're really going to run away, you'd better come down to my cabin and let me take some extra stitches in those pants. They look like they may split open."
"Where?" he asked.
Her hand darted out before she could stop herself. The satisfaction of pushing her fingers into his soft underbelly set her on fire. Slowly ... deliberately, she ran them down over his crotch bulge.
"Hey!" he said, jumping a little at the touch. "Is it split?"
"No," she said. "It's just beginning to pull a little. The threads often get worn out ... like here ... and here."
She ran her fingers over imaginary faults in the stitching and delighted in the pliant feel of the flesh beneath. For a long moment, neither spoke. Then the boy, embarrassed by the pause, said, "Oh."
"Yes," Meg answered hurriedly. "I live just half a mile or so from the bottom of the hill. If you want to come with me, I'll fix it for you."
She couldn't stop. Her fingers kept rolling around over that delectable flesh, and now things were beginning to happen. There was a hardening and a changing of shape and a shiver passed through the child's body.
"What are you doing?" he whined.
For a moment she didn't answer as the question screamed at her accusingly. Then, since she could not stop what she was doing, she painted on her most charming smile.
"I'm just comforting you ... trying to make you feel good," she said. "It must have been awfully cold and lonely, being up here alone all night."
"Yea," he said.
"If you want me to, I'll stop," she went on. Another pause and her fingers were now outlining a definite log.
"Uh ... no ... I guess it's all right."
"Tell me about yourself, Mike," she said. "Where are you from?"
"Oakland," he said. "Uh ... it's a crummy place."
"I've been there," Meg said. "I don't think it's all that bad."
"It is in the part where I live," he said. Involuntarily, his knees began to strain outward as he pushed his crotch into her fondling hands. The outline of his little cock was surprisingly large. Gripping it between her fingers, she began working it from three sides, and his voice cracked in the middle of a sentence.
"Do you like to make little boys feel good?" he asked finally.
"Yes, Mike," she said miserably, "especially when they're cold and kind of lonely. I never had any children of my own, but I always wanted a boy. Does it feel real good?"
"....Yeah ... kind of."
"Come here and sit next to me where your legs can stretch out," she suggested.
He hesitated, still a little embarrassed about what they were doing. When she took her hand away, however, the loss was immediate and he squirmed around to do as she asked. Once he was sitting rather than crouched, the strain on his jeans relaxed and his small pole began tenting the material forward. This gave Meg new areas of flesh to rub.
"Ohhhhhh," groaned the boy before he could stop himself. Then he clenched his mouth tightly to keep from letting her know how deeply her caress was affecting him.
"Poor lamb," she said. "Here, let me make it feel better."
Her fingers slid in under his waistband and her thumb slipped the button through its hole. Deftly, her other hand moved in to slide down the zipper.
"Wh-what are you doing?" he groaned.
"Just going to make it feel better," she cooed. "Here now. Let's see what you've got here ... sort of like opening a present, isn't it? If only those old undies weren't in the way. Mmmmmmm, there we go. My, that looks good enough to eat."
She had spread open the front of his pants with a great show of anticipation, and, in fact, her hands were actually shaking. He stared down at what she was doing to him, but though it embarrassed him to have her undress him like that, he liked the way she made him feel so good that he couldn't make himself push her away.
He allowed her to pull out his shorts and peek down at his hard pecker, and all the while he was fairly bursting as he waited to feel her long, warm finger on his skin. Then she put two fingers on his little dick and slowly peeled the foreskin back until his hard little heart-shaped cockhead was shivering there before both of their eyes.
"It's beautiful, Mike ... just beautiful," she whispered.
A chill of excitement passed through him but he couldn't answer. He'd always thought it was beautiful, too, but he couldn't admit it. He'd played with it a lot, too, but he'd never been able to make it feel like this.
Slowly, she pumped it while they both watched the skin cover and then reveal his greatest treasure.
"What do you call it?" she asked.
"Uh ... nothing ... just my dick ... or my cock sometimes."
"Something that precious should have a name."
"Uh ... yeah, I guess so."
"You know what I want to do when I look at it?" she asked.
"No ... what?"
"I want to kiss it, Mike. Has anyone ever kissed it for you before?"
"No."
"It feels awfully good when they do," she said.
He was beginning to shake all over at the thought, and a tear oozed out of its quivering eye.
"I guess it would," he groaned.
"Mike?"
"Yes?"
"Can I kiss it? Just for a little while?"
He wanted it worse than anything he'd ever wanted in his life.
"Yes," he whimpered.
"And can I hold it in my mouth a little, Mike?"
"Yes ... yes!"
And suck on it a little?"
"Oh, please! Yes! Yes!"
She moved in as the boy eagerly stretched out for her. She started on his belly and worked her way into the V of his pants, smelling his sweat and stale urine crotch, kissing and nibbling all the way. When her tongue snaked out and stole the first touch of his cockflesh, his entire body jerked violently.
"OHHHHHHHHHHH! " he gasped.
"Mmmmmmm," she purred. Sniffing, burrowing ... brushing her lips softly over his searing flesh, she moved deeper into his heated crotch.
Whimpering, Mike reached for his pants, frantic now to rid himself of the bonds that kept his legs hobbled together. Meg did not let him struggle for long. Slipping her hand in to give his ass a loving squeeze, she patted him into raising up for her and then slid down his pants with one hand.
How he opened up then! The moment he kicked the last pantleg free, he began trying to jab his pecker into her mouth. With a chuckle, she pulled away, sat up, and reached in her pocket for a cigarette.
"What you doing?" he demanded.
"Giving you a chance to cool off, honey pot," she said. "If I keep loving you like this, you'll blow your top and it will all be over in a couple of minutes. You know what I mean?"
"No ... well, yes. I guess so."
"You've done it to yourself, surely ... maybe even to other boys."
"Oh, no! To myself, maybe, but I haven't tried it with the guys yet. Anyway, that's queer. I've seen 'em do it though."
"Seen it? Where?"
He shrugged. "At camp ... and I saw my friend's sister get fucked once. It was pretty bloody."
"Bloody?"
"She didn't want to. He stuck her anyway, and she bled. Nnngh, I don't feel so good, neither."
He reached down and grabbed a hold of his prod, squeezing it tightly with his fist.
"No!" cried Meg. "Don't do that!"
"I can't help it. It aches!" he complained with a groan. "I think I'd better go...."
She couldn't let him leave now. Pulling his hand away, she dropped down. Without any preliminaries, she took the full length of his rigid poker into her hot, hungry mouth.
"EYiiiiiiiiiiii!" he wailed.
Digging in with his shoulders and heels, he arched his ass high off the ground. His pecker jerked and bobbed precariously as he squirmed under her heated caress.
Ram it in, honey! she thought. Jam your balls on in, too. I got to have it all!
His ass was dancing all over the place by this time. The misery in his voice made Meg pull away.
"Are you all right?"
"Ohhhh!" he gasped. "Oh, yeah ... I guess so, but God!"
"You want me to suck it some more, Mike? I love to suck it, you know."
"Yes."
"Do you want me to?"
"Sure ... I ... it just feels so...."
"So what?"
"Good, I guess," he said, after some thought. "It's just that it hurts, some, but it just hurts so good I can't hardly stand it."
"Can hardly," she corrected.
"Please!" he wailed.
"Please what?"
"Just do it! Please! Just do it some more ... right now!"
She dropped back into his lap, but this time she spread his legs and began lapping at his balls. She even worked back from there for a time and licked the length of his fragrant crease, pausing to tease around his tasty asshole until he was beginning to whimper at the delay.
"Am I bleeding?" he asked.
"Bleeding?" she asked. "Why should you?"...." Because I'm a virgin," he whined.
"I only poked my tongue into your asshole, pet," she purred. "You haven't got a cunt to bleed. Only women have cunts. Now hush! Lay back and relax as best you can, because I'm going to suck that sweet tasting prick of yours until it cums...."
"Hurry," he moaned.
"Spread your legs," she ordered. "That's right. Now when I put my head down, you squeeze those legs up around my neck. You can pretend you've got your cock in some little girl's pussy and you're fucking away like crazy."
"Can I fuck your pussy?"
"Another time, yes," she said. "Right now I've got to suck. Your little cock is the tenderest, most succulent flesh I've ever had my mouth on. I just can't seem to get enough of little boy dinguses, and yours is the sweetest and best I ever saw."
She sucked his pecker into her mouth and thrilled to the way his legs closed tightly around her. His inner thighs hugged her ears and when he began stabbing his little prick in and out of her mouth, it was with such a convulsive, jerky rhythm that she knew he was on the verge of belching up his load.
Shoot me, baby, she pleaded silently. Squirt me with a mouth full of your sweet jazz.
"AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH!" he wailed.
His little fucker tattooed her siphoning tongue with its frenzied drives. Her own excitement was so intense that she rammed her hand down inside the waistband of her slacks ... inside of her panties, to the wet, smoldering folds of her own cunt. In slid her finger, going straight to her throbbing love-button.
Oh God! I'm going to cummmmmmmmm! I'M GOING TO CUMMMMMMMMM!
She rubbed herself frantically, the whole side of her hand sawing back and forth as she pulled on the hard, small morsel of flesh.
"AHYYYYYYYYYYYY!" he wailed.
His little body stiffened and then Meg felt his cock shudder and jerk. At the very crest of her passion, she felt his cum begin to flow.
It spurted into her mouth, giving her a sense of power along with the overwhelming elation. Her heart pounded, her cunt throbbed, and, every ounce of her body vibrated with warm, debilitating sensations.
It was glorious ... then comforting ... then lewd. Finally, it was hell, yet it was a hell she could not retreat from.
"Hey, that was something," he panted. "I never knew you could feel like that ... not that much, I mean. I wouldn't mind staying at the camp if I could sneak off and meet you every day."
"Why not?" she said miserably.
"Here ... or at your cabin?" he persisted.
"Here. I don't want you to come to the cabin. I...."
"That's all right. We have a free period from two to four. How about two-thirty?"
Meg closed her eyes and grimly pinched in her lips, but she nodded her consent.
"You'll be here?" he insisted.
"I'll be here," she had to admit.
"Okay," he said as he climbed back into his pants. "I hope you don't mind my going on. It's kind of late and I haven't eaten for a couple of hours. I don't want to miss chow."
"It sure was great. I mean, you really know how to make a guy feel good. " He didn't seem to know how to leave.
"Thank you, Mike. Good-bye."
He grinned, showing a mass of beautiful white teeth.
"See ya," he said.
She watched him go, relieved that he was finally getting away from her before she could break down. Her body was satiated at the moment, so that she had no intention of meeting the child the next day. Her mind, however, was clearing, and once the fog of passion dissolved, she felt a sickness for herself that was stronger than the most terrible disease.
Woodenly, she got to her feet and headed down the mountain, blindly putting one foot in front of the other and letting the momentum carry her. The tears would not come until later ... the sobs and screams of shame that were now a familiar part of her hellish cycle.
I'm sick ... and I'm rotten ... and I want to die, but I'm too weak to kill myself. Oh God, what a way to go!
Another sleepless night. She took two sleeping pills when she got home and soaked in her claw-footed tub. She tried to keep her thoughts away from what she had done ... what she had turned into and was, but she couldn't hold it off forever. Once the sleeping pills relaxed some of the tension, the tears again began to flow. With them came panic, hysteria, near-madness ... or can shame be madness? She didn't know.
In spite of the pills and a warm bath, she did not sleep. For the second night in a row, she lay awake, going through her very private kind of hell.
CHAPTER FIVE
Meg was terrified when she heard the knock at the door. Groggily she pulled herself up and tried to orient herself. It was day. Where was the clock? Eleven-thirty? Good lord! But who could it be?
Not Mike! I can't see him again ... ever!
Not Danny! Surely, he couldn't find his way up here!
She reached for her robe.
"Just a minute," she called.
Could it be the authorities? Maybe even the police? Maybe Mike had second thoughts ... maybe he told on her to get himself off the hook. Where is that bathrobe?
There were many possibilities ... all of them bad. She found her robe, slipped it on, and leaned over to check her face in the mirror. She was a mess.
And the knocking went on. Shakily, she went to the door, but she did not unlatch the lock.
"Who is it?"
"Meg? This is Don. Are you all right?"
"Don?" She still couldn't think.
"Don Monleon," he answered impatiently. "Meg, open this door."
Dumbly, she slid open the bolt and then released the door lock.
"What are you doing up here?" she asked as she opened the door.
"My God, you look terrible."
"Thanks."
"Well, aren't you going to let me in?"
"Uh, sure ... but what are you doing here?"
Don pushed her aside enough to step inside and shut the door.
"I was worried about you," he said. "You buy enough sleeping pills to kill a herd of horses and retire into the mountains to brood. I had to make sure you were all right ... and I can see you aren't. You hitting the bottle, Meg?"
"Of course not. I can't even offer you a drink. I didn't bring any."
He stared at her for a moment, judging for himself. Then he walked over to the little kitchen and looked around. He picked up the only dirty glass and sniffed, then checked in the cupboard below the sink.
From there he moved over to the bed and picked up the two bottles of sleeping pills, estimating at a glance the number of pills she had taken.
"You're taking two a night."
Meg's jaw came up defensively. "Yes," she admitted. "I drink coffee, too. Would you have a cup?"
"Sure."
She rinsed out her percolator and filled it, spooned in the coffee and set the pot on the stove. After she turned on the gas, she stood there, staring at the flame rather than face him.
"What is it, Meg?" he asked gently.
"I don't know," she lied. "I guess it's something that just has to work itself up to the surface where I can see it. I can't fight it until then."
"Let me be the judge of that," he said. "Now, tell me. Are there any good restaurants in these mountains."
"Certainly. The Pines is as good as anything in the city."
"Good. Then I'd like to take you out to dinner this evening. Since you haven't been boozing it up, I'll even buy you two drinks," he said.
"That isn't necessary, Don. I have plenty of food here. I can...."
"No, you can't," he said. "You need to get out. For that matter, so do I." Meg said. "You need to get out. For that matter, so do I."
Meg shook her head. As difficult as it was to have to talk to him ... to anyone right now, she had to admit that he probably had saved her sanity by arriving when he did.
"I hate to think what you're charging for a house call this far away," she snorted.
Taking her hand, he turned her around to face him.
"Dr. Monleon is still back in the city," he told her sternly. "Don Monleon will listen to anything you tell him ... and he'd go to hell and back to help you, but...."
"But what?"
"I can't ever be your doctor again, Meg," he said. "I've become too emotionally involved to be objective with you."
"Don, I...."
"I'm not suggesting anything," he said. "I'm just saying that we've become too good of friends ... we are good friends, aren't we, Meg?"
"Yes, of course," she answered too quickly.
"As your friend, I can't be objective about you," he said. "I can't sit in my office and wait until you decide you need me. When I tried to sleep last night, all I could think of was that you were up here with all those sleeping pills, and you were in an unhappy state of mind. By the time morning came, I had to see for myself that you were all right."
"Thanks, Don, but I really am all right," she lied. "I just cry a lot."
"Then you're not all right," he said.
Nervously, she glanced around, then busied herself at the sink.
"I was always told that if you were a woman, you cried," she quipped. "Let me see now. It's almost noon. I trust you haven't had lunch ... no? Good. I'll whip us up a little something."
"You're evading the issue."
She attempted a smile.
"If you get me busy enough, I won't have time to cry," she teased. "This lunch will be a therapy project. Okay?"
"And what happens when I leave?"
Wearily, she faced him, knowing that she couldn't hold up much longer.
"Don, I'm really not ready to talk about it," she said miserably. "Please don't ask me to. When I can, I'll come to you. Until then, just be here with me. It's good to have you here. "
He nodded his agreement and nothing more was said through coffee or lunch. He complained that she fed him too much, and about one o'clock, she suggested they walk it off. The day was just right, not too hot ... not too cold ... and clear as crystal.
Meg was careful to choose a path that did not head in the direction of either the camp or the mountain. Her brain was taking only one idea in at a time. Right now it was concerned with hiding her emotions and her problems from the inquisitive Dr. Monleon. He was too good a man to have to hear vile confessions from her. Though she realized that he was used to sordid problems, she was sure that her sins were more shocking. Even if they weren't, the fact that they were friends made such a confession quite impossible.
She suggested the walk more as a nervous outlet to keep busy than anything else. There would be more distractions around to keep him from asking questions. As they walked, however, two other things began to happen.
For one thing, she relaxed. It was such a beautiful day that she couldn't help breathing in the clean air and feeling somewhat renewed. Then too, Don did not question her, and this certainly helped. He knew the woods, knew the plants and where to look for them. It was surprising how much his tastes were like her own.
Paul had always loved pitting his body against nature. He skied, he surfed, he rode and fished and hiked, but he did not enjoy the land for itself. Meg got no thrill out of conquering a ski run or tramping through the woods with a gun. It was the woods, the flowers and rocks and the way a stream twisted and turned its way across a meadow. Don Monleon was aware of these things as Paul had never been.
There was a second effect of the walk, however. Swinging along, she began to feel her body glow, and the more it glowed, the more conscious she was of the mountain ... and the time.
My God! How could she savor nature's artistic bounty, and at the same time be conniving to meet a small child with a juicy penis? She was developing into a fractured personality, and that was dangerous, she knew.
"I shouldn't keep you out here," she said. "If you were awake all night and then drove up here this morning, you ought to be taking a nap."
"How about you?"
"I have to go into town," she said. "If I'm going out to dinner, I've got to get my hair done."
His grin was instant. "Good for you. I'll tell you what. I'll take a shower and sack out...."
"Bath. We don't have a shower."
"Bath?" he asked with a glower. "They're unsanitary."
"But soothing. I don't see you sticking your crazy people into a four-hour shower when they need to be calmed."
Don chuckled. "Neither of us is crazy, though, Meg," he said.
"I wish I could be sure of that," she said ruefully. Then she hurried on ahead.
She was conscious of time every instant. It was five to two and they still couldn't see the cabin ... then four to two ... three to two. She had to reach the top of the mountain by two-thirty ... well, he'd probably wait a little while, but she was going to have to drive away in the car, find a place to park and then find some kind of trail to follow from the back side of the mountain. Just thinking about it made her cunt begin to bum.
"There it is!" she exclaimed as she spotted the cabin.
"Slow down," he laughed. "You can't be in that big of a hurry. Can you?"
I can! I am! Damn, it's a minute until two! Hurry! Get in there and get those car keys. Got to go! Got to GO! I'll never make it at this rate!
Nervously she laughed, her hands fluttering uselessly. "The walk has really done me good," she said. "Suddenly, I seem to be bursting with energy."
"That's good, Meg."
"Now, if I can get into town and get to looking as good as I feel...." she declared.
Don studied her flushed cheeks and decided she was coming around beautifully.
"Go!" he ordered playfully. As she turned to obey, he gave her fanny a playful slap.
Darting into the cabin, Meg scooped up her purse, and began rifling around in the bottom of it for her key chain as she hurried for the door.
"There are fresh towels in the bottom drawer of ttie dresser and soap in the cabinet above the sink," she called over her shoulder.
"I'll find them," he said and laughed. "Hurry back."
She'd have to worry about hurrying back, later. For now it was enough to get away. Climbing in behind the wheel, she slammed the door shut and started the car. In another second she was scooting out the drive.
I really ought to go to town. I should forget what's happened and have an affair with Don. I could, I think, the way he looks at me. Everything I've done until now, I could lie out of, if I had to. If it came up, it would be my word against theirs and neither boy has that good of a background that he would be believed over me. This is my chance. All I have to do it stay away.
Even as she argued with herself, she knew which way it would go. Her cunt burned with a fire that no man could put out. She had to get up there ... get up to that sweet, tender little nubbin of flesh. Her brain was fevered with anticipation as she pulled off on an old logging spur that at least headed toward the bottom of the mountain. To her delighted surprise, it not only went all the way to the base of the hill but even partway up the side. The path that led from there to the top of the ridge was wide and plainly marked.
I'll make it! I'll be there on time. I just hope I made it good enough for him that he comes back for more. What if he couldn't get away? What if he got sent home for staying away from the camp overnight like that? What if they restricted him and watched over him to make sure he obeyed?
These and a thousand other thoughts nagged at her brain, but not once did she berate herself for what she was about to do. Shame was not a part of this end of the cycle. For now, her brain was filled with a delicious, naughty anticipation.
I wish I could take you home with me, Mike, she thought. I should never have left. If Danny ever comes back, you'd love him. His little cock is a little bigger than yours and his nuts are starting to get hair on them, but he'd teach you things you'd learn to love. I let him fuck me, Mike. Maybe I'll let you fuck me, too, if you want to. It's not so good as getting sucked because you're still pretty small to fit a grown woman's cunt, but I love doing it. I love doing anything with you.
Meg didn't see the tender shoots of Indian pipe in the middle of the trail. She didn't see the sword fern or even the blue jay scolding her from the lower branches of a Pine. She saw only where to put her foot next. It was a steep trail.
She was in such a hurry that she grew winded long before she reached the top. Though she was forced to slow down, she never even considered a moment's stop.
It's twenty-seven minutes after two. I can't even tell how much further on this strange trail. Damn!
There were occasional boulders now. That was a good sign. When she turned around she could see the entire valley below. She couldn't be far now.
Will he be there?
Oh God, will he be there?
Her mouth was dry, but her tongue worked an imaginary cockhead anyway. Her hands were knotted as she forced one leg in front of the other, but her fingers fondled an imaginary foreskin, working it back and forth over the pretend cock.
Then she came around a boulder and a split pine, and there it was up ahead. With her lungs near to bursting, she raced ahead. She had just reached the biggest boulder when she was stopped short by the sound of voices. Panic stricken, she pressed herself against the rock.
"You think she'll come?" a youthful voice asked.
"Sure," Mike answered. "She likes to make me feel good so she'll be here."
"You think she'll do it for me, too? it the first voice, or another. Meg couldn't be sure.
"Sure," Mike promised. "She just likes the feel of a kid. I don't guess it will matter which kid she feels."
Meg was shaking all over, her cunt throbbing with desire as she walked around that rock.
"Hello, Mike, I see you brought a...."
She stopped short at the sight. There were at least ten of them.
CHAPTER SIX
"Mike!" she gasped.
"Hi!" he chirped back. "I brought some friends along. I hope you don't mind."
This was followed by a chorus of "Hi's."
"No ... I can't...." she stammered.
"I told them you liked to make boys feel good. They all want to feel good, too."
Meg was staggered. Numbly, she backed up against a rock and leaned against it. Her knees shook and her legs felt like jelly. Danny ... Mike ... now a dozen, nameless bepricked youths wanted her to contaminate them, too. Weakly, she stood there, wobbling precariously. Then she sank to the ground, too unstable to trust her legs any longer. Slowly, she shook her head.
"I can't, Mike," she choked. "I'm sorry, but I can't do it, not to so many."
She dropped her head, but there was a boy sitting there beside her. His hands were in his lap, working his pecker rhythmically.
Oh no!
He had his sweet thing out. His fingers were rubbing over it so lightly that he scarcely touched the flesh at all. As she watched, mesmerized, he worked the skin back and forth, back and forth, over his hardened, precious little prick.
The boy looked up at her then and smiled, then took his hands away. His quivering cock lay fully exposed before her, inviting her touch.
I can't fight this. It's impossible, she thought miserably, but why? My God, why?
For several moments she stared, and the longer she stared, the less she cared about the number of boys witnessing her shame. Soon even the shame was past consideration; she didn't feel it or think of it. As though another, completely different personality had emerged, she returned his smile. She was relaxed now ... teasingly sensuous and sure.
"You want me to touch it?" she asked.
He nodded his head.
"You were doing pretty good with it yourself. Tell me if I make it feel better."
She reached over and brushed her fingers over it.
The boy shuddered with excitement at her touch and his fleshy, pliant cockflesh shivered deliciously.
"Ohhhhhh," he sighed.
"You like that better?"
"Ohhhh, yesssssss!"
His penis was hard ... the size of half of a full-sized cigar. Just looking at it made Meg's mouth begin to water. It was incredibly tender to the touch, but she knew it would be even better to taste.
Like Mike and Danny, he was uncircumcised. That must be a badge of the poor, she decided. Then I love the poor ... love the boy ... love his sweet, sweet cock.
She pushed his foreskin back, doing it slow and easy to tease herself a little more. Watching that moist, precious head emerge was enough to stoke her smoldering cunt into a raging fire. It was so incredibly tender and ringed with flecks of headcheese.
"Ohhhhhhh," groaned the boy.
"Like it?" she taunted.
"Please," he whimpered, "suck it before it blows."
"It's" not going to blow for a good, long time yet, sweet," she promised him. "I won't let it blow."
"I don't think you'll have too much to say about it, lady," he groaned. "I've been playing with it ever since lunch, when Mike first told us about you."
"Poor baby," she sympathized. "Well, if I'm going to kiss it, I don't want to do it through that little bitty hole. Stretch out and let me unbutton your waistband. Then I'll nibble on down your tummy and suck that little old thing until it just gets so happy that it blows its brains out."
"Ohhhhhhhhh," the boy groaned at her words.
"Ahhhhhhh," his friends exclaimed.
Their sympathy pains were intense. Every boy there was squirming and jerking around as they watched their friend stretch out beside the sexy lady.
"What's your name, sweet?" she asked.
"Lonny," he answered.
"And do you have a name for this rigid, brave, little soldier here?" she asked, her fingers still fondling his treasure. She manipulated him so deftly that his shaking got out of hand and she had to quit.
"Uh ... ahhh, ugh ... I call him Dick ... uh, most of the time," he admitted. "Please, can't you hurry a little, lady? I'm awful hot."
"Never," she whispered. "I couldn't rush a thing like this any more than a connoisseur of good food could wolf down a plate of truffles. Oh, darling boy, hang on. I won't touch you for a while. Take deep breaths and let it cool. It's too precious to hurry ... too good to rush."
"I'm next," someone called.
"Bullshit!"
"Ain't she going to take her clothes off so we can see her tits?"
"Yeah! I want to get a look at her cunt. I'm big enough to plug into that mother!"
"You going to fuck her?"
"Why not?"
"God, I'd rather get it sucked any day. Her cunny ain't got no tongue in it."
"I hear they got muscles in there that are almost like teeth, though."
On and on and on. Their chatter burned into Meg's brain, and the brain, in turn, produced vivid, erotic scenes.
I wish I could pull off my clothes and feel them all against me at once, she thought. I can't ... I mustn't, but wouldn't it feel like heaven? Oh God!
She shook herself back to reality for what was real was very good. Leaning down to inspect her work, she focused her attention on unhooking the rather complicated fastener at the boy's waist. When she was done, his pants spread open in a V pointing into his shivering penis.
For the moment, she went no further, but left his pants where they were. It was more pleasant to nibble in and root around inside for a while first.
A chorus of "ahhhhhhhhhhhs" rang in her ears as she bent over the shivering child.
Oh, sweetmeat, I'm coming, she promised silently.
Slowly, she bent over him, letting her lips brush against Lonny's belly. Immediately, he convulsed into a seizure of uncontrolled passion.
"OHHHHHHHHHH!" he wailed.
"Easy, lamb," she whispered and quickly pulled away.
When he could breathe, she tried again. Her breath tickled over his flesh and her lips drove him insane as she moved down into his open fly. Though he shook violently, he held, breathing deeply to try to make it last.
"Do it, lady," he whimpered. "Do it!"
She was getting there. He could feel her cheek against his cock and her lips were working almost against his root. Each time she pulled away, he groaned, but he was better able to control himself with every delay.
He could feel the wetness of her open-mouthed caress, and then her tongue began trailing saliva over his burning flesh. By the time it curled around the base of his cock and slowly began to work its way up his shaft, Lonny was able to take the excitement and even hang on as he waited for morts, he hung on for all he was worth.
The Little-Boy Lover
"Oh, Jesus damn! Oh, hell! Oh, shit! Oh, you mother ... you lovely, sucking cunt! Do it! Do it!"
There was shaky laughter and a few groans from the others. They could see her lips working over one side of his flesh and her tongue curled clear around to brace herself on the other. In this manner, she worked her way up to the head.
He was jabbing a little now. When she twisted around and engulfed his length in her mouth, he let out a cry.
"EYIIIIIIIIII!"
Quickly, she pulled away, careful to keep from touching him at all.
"You all right?"
For a little while he was shaking too hard to answer. Then he looked up at her with a piteous stare.
"I ... I don't know," he whimpered. "I can't stand it much longer, lady. Please, make me blow."
"Just a little longer," she begged. "Here, let me pull your pants down so I can cuddle those sweet balls. I haven't even seen them yet. Oh, how precious. Oh, I could just eat them up, Lonny. Do you want me to eat them up? I'll be careful not to touch your cock."
"Nooooooo!" he wailed.
"Suck him!"
"Yeah, he's asking for it! Give it to him."
"Gad, we're all going to pop off just waiting!"
"Fuck off, Lonny! Give the rest of us a chance!"
She leaned down to suck in his balls. Then, as though she had squeezed it up from the bag, his jazz began to shoot. The first volley went a mile, but she caught the second, and his throbbing prick was engulfed by the third. She sucked his fourth and fifth and on and on to the end when the well was dry and there was nothing more that he could give. Then she took a deep breath and pulled away. "I'm next!"
"The hell you say. I'm the one that told you guys about her. I should've been first."
"Screw you! You got yourself sucked off yesterday. She's going to suck me before she messes with you."
"You motherfucker, I'll...." They all began pushing and shoving with that, yet most of them used their shoulders for they were unzipping their flies and bringing out their ready staffs at the same time, Meg stared at them in awe, unable to fathom the wondrous variety of succulent young genital flesh flapping there in the breeze. Instantly, she hungered for them all. How could she have forced the child to hang on for so long when she had all that cockflesh left to suck.
"Please! Don't fight," she begged. "Bring it here! Come to me!"
As if to prove that she could accommodate them all, she struggled to pull off her clothes, fumbling desperately to unbutton and remove her blouse. She got no further than opening the front up before the first boy grabbed her.
Reaching into her brassiere, he pulled out one huge tit. He groaned at the sight of the wide areola of puffy flesh that surrounded her giant olive of a nipple. Immediately he began to suck, kneading the breast flesh compulsively, and he snuggled down beside her.
Seeing this, another boy left the milling, shoving back to squat down beside Meg's thigh. Pulling up her skirts, he looked at her panties. They were bikinis made of a gauzy film of lace. The crease of her cuntlips was plain as day. He ran his finger down it, outlining the two puffy ridges as well as her crease. Pulling one pant-leg open, he stared straight into her cunt.
He glanced back at the other boys, seemingly afraid that they might soon try to steal his prize. Then he pushed Meg's legs apart and climbed between them, unwilling to waste even the time to get her undressed.
He was a small boy, but his prod was the largest of them all. It jutted out from his open fly a healthy six inches or so. When he tried to poke it at her, he realized that it was too constricted. Nervously, he skinned his pants down below his ass. Now, he could take his cock in hand, pull back her pant-leg, and ram his prick into her wet, smoldering cunt.
He could see her hole and he headed directly for it, groaning as his prickhead split into her smoldering flesh.
"Ahhhhhhh!" came Meg's muffled sigh as she jerked her thighs up to meet him.
It was heaven, but there was so much to feel in so many places that she could not dwell on what he was doing to her for long. She had herself a born tit-sucker, and she reveled in babying him along. She'd found him playing with himself after a time and pushed his hands away. Now, with her hand inside of his pants, she rolled his balls and snuggled his cock as she whispered erotic encouragement for him to suck on.
"Suck it, boy," she said warmly. "Oh God, you've got such a sweet little prick, honey. You suck Mama a while and then Mama'll suck you."
"Suck mine while you wait," another boy begged. "Look! Look at mine!"
"Ohhh yes! Give it to me," she said. "It's absolutely beautiful! Oh God yes ... hurry!" Whoever the young stud was that was fucking her, he was doing it with enthusiasm. He slapped at her belly, prodded her cunt, and frictioned both sides of her inner thighs ... all with the same frenzied thrusts.
If only he wasn't in such a hurry, she thought. Ream me out, baby ... do it slow ... and when you get it deep inside, don't jerk it out so fast. Let me feel! Let me feel it in there ... deep ... and throbbing ... and hot! Slow ... hard...! Screw it in, honey! Screw it in!
The fighting was over. They were all too hot and they'd seen how they'd missed out by turning their attention away. Now they formed a circle to watch and to root their buddies on.
"Ball her, Brad!"
"Fuck her good!"
"Hey, he really is fucking her, ain't he?"
"And her with her pants still on!"
"What's he doing, straining it? Or did he poke a hole in her britches?"
"Neither, dumb-head. Can't you see he's got it pulled out of the way. Man, I'm going to get them off when it's my turn. I'm going to fuck her, too."
"I thought you wanted it sucked! "
"I'll take it both ways if she don't get worn out. This old cunt can take whatever we give her, I'll bet."
"Look at her tits. God, they're big mothers."
"There goes Ron. Hell, she sucked him off in two minutes flat. She must be something."
"That's what he gets for playing marbles all day."
"Bullshit! I haven't played with myself at all and I'm so hot I'd fuck off if I sneezed just once!"
"Me, too. God, I just got to be next."
As soon as Ron got his tail drained, another moved in to take his place. Meg welcomed him eagerly, but in her own way.
"Honey pot, get your little fanny around here. I want to tickle your asshole for a minute."
"Gawd!" groaned the boy.
Twisting around, he squatted gingerly as he straddled her face. Her hand came up to prime his already well-primed pump as her face burrowed up into his sweaty crease. When she found it, she began to lick. She wetted it and worked it like it was tasty candy. When it was thoroughly relaxed, she forced her tongue on through. Heatedly, she stabbed into him.
"Would you look at her kissing Jim's ass? Jeez!"
"She ain't kissing it, man. Look at her throat. She's stabbing that old tongue of hers right on in his shit-hole!"
"I'd sure hate to kiss her now, huh?"
A strained titter shivered through those that watched. Then their attention was drawn to the boy slamming himself against her cunt. Brad's small body stiffened and he arced into a rigid bow, his limbs jerking spasmodically.
"I'm cummmmmmmmming! " he wailed.
Meg felt his cock give a jerk, deep in her cunt. Then his jazz began to pour. The flood of his liquid fire triggered her own release. Her passion exploded. It ripped through her body and brain, flooding over in a burning wash of excitement.
"EYIIIIIIIIIII!" she cried.
She was there ... and yet she wasn't, for when it was gone, she was not free. The fever had subsided enough that she no longer wished to mouth a boyish ass, but her needs were still making definite, feverish demands. With a final shudder, she reached for the boy's pecker and pulled it toward her mouth.
"Come to Mama," she rasped.
"Unnnh!" groaned the boy. In her excitement, she was trying to pull in a prick that was pointed in the exact opposite direction. Struggling against her, he pushed her away long enough to change positions. Then, on all fours, he lowered his precious cock to her hungry lips.
"Shit, man, you didn't even pull off her pants," someone complained. "How the hell am I supposed to fuck her with her pants still on?"
"That's your problem," came the tired reply. "I've got to take a piss."
Meg could feel hands fumbling with her pants. She raised her ass up, straining to help, and after a time he had them free. It felt good to have a warm little boy snuggling in against her. His cock wasn't big enough to, bless him, he gave it hell trying.
And the boy on her tit continued to suck.
"Ain't he ever going to give the rest of us a chance with them knockers? I got to try that myself."
"Hah! That's all you're old enough for, Peewee."
"You ain't exactly a stud yet, yourself," came the immediate reply.
Several laughed, but most were too strained for anything but a haunted stare.
"Do it, lady!" cried the boy with his prick in Meg's siphoning mouth. "Ohhhh damn, I'm so fucking hot!" Feverishly, he worked his cock in and out of her lips.
"Play with me," whimpered the boy at Meg's breast. In her excitement, she had forgotten him completely.
And the boy between her legs stabbed his small pole into her cunt with rapid, flurried drives.
"I'm gonna cum. I am! I'm CUMMMMMMING!" someone cried.
"Well, do it and get the hell out of the way!"
"Fuck you!"
"I'm getting hot enough to fuck your ass if I have to wait much longer!"
Meg didn't care. They were rubbing her, sucking her, stabbing hot little pricks at her. When any one of the three moved away to make room for others, she felt a terrible loss until another cock or another body came to take its place.
And everywhere ... cum. Slippery, sticky cum, the sensual sugar of lust. It was nectar ... ambrosia ... feast of the Gods and she couldn't get enough of it. With it came power. With it came more lust and more greed for the small, tender cocks that could produce it. And then, there was something else....
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" she moaned, writhing with excitement.
Something was different ... wonderful! For a moment, she was too dazed to know what that difference was. Then it came to her in a flash.
"My God! " she gasped.
Pushing the boys away, she raised up to see, There between her legs a youngster was crouched, pushing his face into her crotch. He was greedily sucking up all of that mixed boy-cum!
"Ohhhhhhhhh!" she groaned. "Ohhhh! Ohhhhh damn!"
Falling back on the grass, she spread out her legs, straining to open them wide. She rolled up her open snatch, sinuously lifting herself to meet his hot-mouthed caress.
"Oh, heaven, heaven," she groaned, arching up her tits and molding them with her own hands. "Oh God, that's beautiful. Oh, damn but that's so good!"
"There's her tits. Wow!"
"Yeah, I wish I could screw them! "
"Me, too. Hey, she ain't sucking nobody. I'm next. "
"Hurry up. I'm ready to go again."
"Again?"
"Yeah," came the sheepish reply. "I boxed it off ... had to. See her belly? I squirted it at her. If I don't get a turn pretty soon, I'm going to piss on her, too!"
"Ahhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Gary, it's worth waiting for. Oh, God, what a mother!"
Several of the boys had given up. Dropping to the grass beside Meg, they began sucking on each other. She could feel their little asses burrowing in against her, but by now they were lost in their own private hell. It didn't matter. She could feel them against her, flesh on flesh. She held the boy's head in her hand ... the boy who sucked her can, and never had she felt such excitement as she did right now. She continued sucking off one boy after the other but her own lust, her own sense of excitement had moved back into her cunt.
Don't ever stop, you darling, she thought. Somehow, I'm going to get a night with you ... just you. Maybe more than a night. Maybe I can see you every week ... every night. Oh God, what you do to me. I'll make it so good for you, you'll never look anywhere else for your loving!
She ran her fingers through his hair and grazed her fingers over his youthful features. His tongue was stabbing deep into her cunt now, and he handled the task like an old pro.
What does my love look like? she wondered. Who cares? With a tongue and a mouth like that, who cares?
"How can he do that? It turns my stomach just to look," said a voice with an obvious shudder.
"I don't know, but I wish he'd clear out and let someone fuck her. I wouldn't want my mouth in it, but I'm not past dipping my cock in if I get the chance."
"There goes Gary. Get up there next to him so when she gets him sucked dry, you can move on in."
"AHHHHHHHHHH SHHHHHHHHHIT!" cried Gary.
"Grab her tit."
"Who wants her tit? I want her cunt if Mike will ever get out of the way. Move, Mike ... let a man in there."
"Leave him alone!" hissed Meg, and though her voice was quiet, it was lethal sounding as hell.
So it was Mike, she thought. He'd come a long way since yesterday.
There was someone rubbing his cock around in her hair. She reached up and stroked her fingers over it once and felt it explode. A part of her hair was matted with cum. Meg forgot him. She was too hot now to think of anything but the prick in her mouth and the mouth in her steaming cunt. There were boys squeezing her breasts and straining to get a nipple into their mouths. There were boys against her on either side and one miserable lad who was teasing his pecker between her toes.
Then, several minutes later, when she was on the verge of exploding, her attention was brought back to the pecker still pressed into her hair. She felt a hot burst of liquid squirt over her, and then she realized he was taking a piss ... in her hair.
For a moment, it dulled her excitement, and she was on the verge of getting mad. Then, when it went on and on, and the hot steaming liquid poured down her cheeks and neck and onto her shoulders and breasts ... then it wasn't awful. It was exciting. She could smell the stench and feel the steam. Suddenly, she wanted to feel it all over her. As Mike's tongue latched onto her clit, rubbing her throbbing love-button into a frenzy of excitement, she pulled her mouth from whoever's prick she was siphoning and cried out for them to drown her in their piss.
"Piss on me," she begged, "all of you. Oh, Mike! Suck it out! Make me cummmmm!"
Those who were spent hastened to arc their stream of urine over her. The idea excited some of them so much that they hardened up and couldn't get it to come. Once it started, however, they were all over her.
"Don't mess her up, you guys!" one of them pleaded. "I wanted a second chance. Who's going to want to screw around with her after this?"
"Dummy. It's already quarter to four. We can't screw around anymore anyway! Hurry up, Mike! Shit! You going to eat it all?"
You can't leave me now! she thought frantically. I'm so close ... so close!
"Don't go, Mike!" she begged. "Here, get around here. Let me suck you while you're sucking me. Ahhhhhh."
She got him twisted around and quickly sucked him in. While the other boys zipped up and hurried away, Meg held the boy back, loving his sweet pecker with her ever-hungry lips. He couldn't fight it. It felt far, far too good.
It didn't last for long, for the boy had been on the verge for half an hour or more. When it came, his small body jerked and jumped for joy.
She couldn't hold him after that. He jumped up, zipped his fly, and made a terrible face. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping his face and spitting as though he'd just noticed he'd had his face buried in her cunt.
"I ain't bringing any of those guys tomorrow," he announced. "It ain't no fun having to wait around while you suck the rest of them ... and I didn't like getting pissed on, either."
Meg said nothing. With her hand pressed deep between her legs, her feverish brain was focused on her sorely-needed relief. Furiously, she sawed the hand in against herself.
"Will you be coming here tomorrow or should I come to your cabin?" asked the boy.
"I don't know," she sobbed. "I can't think. Just get the hell out of here, will you? Leave me alone."
"I'm sorry you didn't make it."
"... Please!"
"You'll be all right?"
"Of course not," she moaned. "I'll never be right again!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was after dark before Meg moved anything but her compulsively sawing hand. Only the cold forced her back to reality. As she drug herself out of her lewd cloud of misery and started down the mountain, she was numb-numb in body and in mind. She couldn't begin to comprehend the enormity of what she had done.
She hurt all over, and she stunk. She was sick to her stomach and had a headache that wouldn't let her bend over, even an inch, yet before she was halfway to the car, she had to bend over to retch. It was some time before she was able to go on. Later, Meg was able to recall nothing of that downward journey or of the short drive that followed. She remembered only that she pulled up in front of the house and laid her head on the horn.
Don Monleon had just decided to go out looking for her. He was putting on his overcoat when he heard the car. Having cursed himself for sleeping so long, he was greatly relieved until the hum of the engine was drowned out by the screech of brakes and the horn. Something was obviously wrong.
His first thought when he opened the car door and smelled of her was rape.
"Meg! Wake up! Here, let me move you over. I'd better get you into the hospital."
"NO!"
The terror in her eyes stopped him. Quickly, he gathered her into his arms and carried her into the cabin. He laid her on the bed.
"Let me see how bad it is," he said. "Perhaps we can take care of it here."
He lifted her skirt. Her pants were gone. Deftly he spread her legs and opened up her vaginal lips. She was badly bruised but there was no sign of any bleeding. When he sat down beside her and smiled at her, however, she couldn't look at him. Closing her eyes, she turned her head away.
"Meg, I don't want to leave you," he said, "but someone should go for the police. There still may be time to...."
"No," she whispered. "Please don't tell them."
"You can't let them get away with this," he argued. "Meg, a man that rapes a woman and doesn't get...."
She turned to face him then and her eyes were wide and blank.
"Don," she said in a voice that was warmed over death, "I wasn't raped. If you call the police, it's me they'll have to take away."
He didn't understand. Frowning, he stared at her, and she had to turn from the concern and sympathy she saw in his eyes.
"Don, I'm not like I was a year ago," she said. "I'm not even like I was a month ago. I'm not worth worrying about anymore."
"Suppose you let me be the judge of that," he suggested.
She shook her head. "I can't. I can't talk about it. Not to you ... not to anybody."
"Meg, you can't shock me, you know," he said. Her eyes flashed with light for the first time. Then the spark was gone and she stared at him dully. The doctor in Don Monleon caught that moment and plotted its meaning. Shifting his attack, he got up and went into the bathroom where he started water running in the tub. When he returned, he undressed her, finding himself in agreement with Dr. Brian's estimate of her body. (He'd called her one hell of a lot of woman, Don remembered.) One of the minus factors in being a psychiatrist was that you couldn't order beautiful women to strip. This one, in particular, had titillated his imagination from the beginning.
"For the moment, we'll concentrate on patching you up," he said, "starting with a bath."
The skirt and blouse came off easily, but when he lifted away the brassiere it took all the strength he had not to run his hands over her marvelous breasts. With herculean restraint, he picked her up and carried her into the tub.
Balancing her precariously, he tested the water then settled her carefully into the tub.
"It's hot," she complained.
"Yes. Good for aches and bruises."
And tears. After hours of feeling dead inside, her eyes hollow and dry, the tears finally began to flow. They gushed. Don did not try to comfort her or to interfere. Picking up the soap and a washcloth, he began working on her instead. Almost as soon as he began, he realized that he still had his jacket on, ready to go out in search of her. Shrugging out of it, he pulled off his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Then he went back to work.
Whenever her sobbing slowed down enough for her to hear, he talked to her ... never questioning or giving her any chance to speak. He talked about all that she had been through ... about what a strain she had been under this last year ... about her basic, beautiful self, as he saw it.
"Anything you could have done had to be a reaction to that strain," he stressed, "and, Meg, the only way you're going to get control of it is to bring it out into the open where we can look at it." The first couple of times he said this, she exploded into another hysterical outburst. He let her cry. He washed her neck and shoulders and then steeled himself to reach for her breasts.
"You're beautiful, Meg," he whispered. "Any man would be glad to make love to you ... any way you want it."
Hysterics again. Damn! he thought. What did I say wrong this time? You're beautiful ... that couldn't have upset her. Any man would be glad to make love to you ... nothing wrong there unless it's a beast ... no, not in her hair. Only a man would fuck off in her hair. Anyway you want it ... either she's got a really off-beat hang-up or a herd instinct. There was too much done to her for one man to have done it all ... unless he could jack off a hundred times in an afternoon. Yes, that was probably it.
"There are outlets for almost any drive these days, Meg," he said. "Swingers get together and either trade or orgy all the time without harming anything. If you...."
She was shaking her head. He'd guessed wrong. "Have you ever read an underground newspaper ... or one of the swap magazines? They advertise for all sorts of things. Love me, love my dog ... girls only ... leather ... bondage ... degradation. Ah ... Meg, degradation is really an attempt to punish yourself for wanting sex in the first place. Tell me, Meg. Please."
She just kept shaking her head for a long moment before she tried to speak. When the words did come, he could scarcely hear them at all.
"See?" she whispered. "You can't even guess, it's so bad. I never dreamed of it myself until it happened."
"You didn't want it at first?" he asked incredulously.
Sadly, she shook her head. "I never even thought of it. One night ... could it have been only two weeks ago? Maybe three. It seems like a million years."
"What happened, Meg?"
She shrugged, helpless to understand it. Then she pinched her lips together to keep from crying. A deep breath ... a sigh, and she was ready to try.
"I'd just taken a bath ... was getting ready for bed ... heard a noise. There was no one else around to check on things. With Paul gone it was up to me...."
Her words trailed off as she remembered it. "Yes," Don urged. "What did you do?"
"Oh, I went into the kitchen. The noise was coming from the garage. I opened the door and peeked out...."
"Yes?"
"It was two little boys being nasty with each other," came the faint whisper. "When they heard me, the youngest broke free and ran. He'd been struggling to free himself when I looked out. Danny told me later that he attacked other children when he ... needed it very badly."
"What did you do?"
"I rushed out and ordered him to pull up his pants. He just stood there whimpering and begging."
"Begging for what?"
"He just kept saying 'please' at first. I decided that he must be in shock with me scaring and screaming like that, so I reached down to pull his pants up for him. That's when he pushed his little penis at me and begged me to finish him off."
"Did you, Meg?"
"Not then ... but I couldn't move. So help me God, Don, I was paralyzed. He pushed it against my cheek and began rubbing it around. Then he moved it over and ran the tip of it around my lips. Then he poked it inside, and I've been in hell ever since!"
"In what way, Meg? Is this boy here in the mountains? Did you go to him?"
"Noooooo!" she wailed, and then the tears flooded in again. She was far too distraught to talk anymore.
Carefully, Don finished washing her as he mulled her problem over in his brain. The causes and catalysts were obvious, but any immediate solution evaded him.
"Be calm, Meg," he soothed. "We can lick this thing. It seems terrible to you now, but you'll come to understand it eventually. Trust me, Meg."
"Don't pretend I haven't shocked you!" she hissed. "Nothing could be more vile ... more evil than what I've done!"
He tried to smile as he shook his head. "Nothing could be more dangerous if you let it persist, but I doubt that it's as bad as you think it is."
"You don't know what I've done!"
"I've a pretty good idea," he countered. "After all, Meg, I'm the one that pulled you out of the car this evening. My nose and eyes told me most of it. For God's sake, quit thinking you're the only person in the world with a problem!"
It wasn't very professional, but it did the job. She stared at him incredulously.
"That's all you have to say about a woman that seduces children?" she demanded.
"Until I hear the rest of the story ... yes."
She took a deep breath, watching as he pulled the plug.
"Stay there," he ordered. "I'm going to give you a douche. Where is...?"
"No!"
"Oh, come off it, Meg. Where's the douche bag?"
Weakly, she waved toward the drawer. He was all efficiency now, and he let her see that he was impatient as well.
"Whether you confide in me or not is your own damn business," he said, "but a pregnancy ... or the kind of infections common to mass sex are side-effects we don't need."
"I want to tell you, Don," she told him. "It's just that it's so hard to talk about it. I'm so ashamed."
"Would you be ashamed if you came down with tuberculosis or cancer?"
"Of course not."
"Mental illnesses are just as real as physical ones, Meg," he said. "Quite frankly, I don't think you're even that."
"How do you mean?"
"Supposing you tell me the rest first," he suggested. "Then I'll be able to tell you more."
She nodded, then closed her eyes. "I did what the boy asked. I did it with my mouth, and when it was done, I was burning up! I screamed at him to get out of there, but he knew I hadn't made it. He told me that he'd never fucked a woman and promised that he could get it back up in a few minutes if I'd just take him into my bedroom and suck him a little more. I was so hot! Oh God!"
"Did he give you relief?"
"Oh yes! Well, no ... I was relaxed for the first time in a year, actually. I've never been able to give myself any appreciable release. Anyway, the moment he was gone I went into hysterics, and the next several days were a nightmare. Every night I locked every door and window for fear he'd come back. Once I took a cab to your office, sat there a while, and drove away. I just couldn't come in. You see, it wasn't just the shame. I began having this other thing. I'd walk down the street staring at every little boy's crotch. When I'd see a big bulge and tight pants, I'd freeze. I'd just stand there gaping until they walked away, and my knees would be shaking when it was over."
"How old was he?"
"Twelve I think, but he was awfully big for his age ... there. The rest of him was even undersize I'd imagine."
"Did you ever see him again?"
"That's what I'm coming to. The other night I had the girls over for bridge. I haven't been able to sleep since all this started and I thought it would help. About eleven they left, and I went in and took my bath. I remember I was going to read until I got to worrying over whether I'd locked up. I found two doors locked and one still unlatched. After I locked it, I took a sleeping pill and went to bed. It was fifteen or twenty minutes later that Danny crawled in beside me."
"He waited for you to go to sleep?" Don asked.
"Yes, I'd told him never to come back. I'd told him I wouldn't let him near me again. I guess he figured it was safer this way. He said he'd counted on me sleeping until I was good and hot."
"What happened?"
"I was shocked, of course, but it was nothing like the first time. In a few minutes I was ready to do anything he asked of me. We had sex for hours and hours ... it must have been dawn before he left. Then came the horrible part. Where it had been far easier to give in, it was far harder to go through the shame that followed. I'd cry so hard that I was sure I had lost my mind. It went on and on, and there just didn't seem to be any end to it." Don had stirred up some kind of witch's brew. When all of the water was drained from the tub, he gently pushed her legs apart and inserted the nozzle. It was stupid to feel embarrassed over something like this sifter the terrible things she'd discussed, but she felt miserably vulnerable laying there all wet in an empty bathtub with a rubber tube coming out of her cunt. Then the warm water began to flow ... even sting a little. She forgot everything else.
When it was done he helped her up and carefully toweled her dry. Then he carried her in and laid her on the bed.
"Where's your gown?" he asked.
She smiled. "In the drawer," she told him, pointing to the bureau.
As sure as he was with her, he was mannishly clumsy going through her lingerie.
"The yellow," she suggested, choosing it mainly because it was different enough in color from everything else that he couldn't make a mistake.
"That's why I came up here," she explained as he helped her into her gown. "After Danny left the second time I realized that if I didn't leave I'd be asking for it the next time. It was obvious that he'd never stay away so long as I was there and available. I thought of the cabin that afternoon, and I began packing immediately. I was out of the house in little over an hour. I really thought I could get over this sickness on my own when I left. Boy! How stupid can one woman be?"
"It showed a healthy optimism, Meg, as well as determination. You didn't just sit. You tried to work things out. So far, I can't see a thing wrong with you."
"Oh, Don! My God!"
"Look at it this way. We all have our weaknesses. I look at you and you turn me on."
"But that's the point! You're strong enough to resist."
He counted on her to think of it. Now he had her boxed in. With a grin he leaned over and planted an affectionate, if fatherly, kiss on her forehead.
"I didn't have it shoved at me, either, did I?" he asked. "Now tell me what happened up here."
She blinked back the tears. "At first, everything seemed so clean and good. I was sick when I saw that that camp had gone in next door but I was determined not to dwell on it."
"I hadn't noticed a camp," he interrupted.
"A boy's camp ... right next door," she explained. "Oh, maybe it's half a mile through the pines ... that way, but there hadn't been anything here before and now ... when I really needed to get away from things, the very thing I wanted to get away from had planted itself on my doorstep.
"I couldn't get it off my mind. I was afraid to take a hike because I didn't know exactly where it was and the road could have wound all the way around our place for all I knew. Finally I decided to drive over there and find out for myself. At the time I thought it was the only logical thing to do."
"What did you find?"
"A pond full of naked boys and naked instructors and ... and everything I didn't need ... or want to see. They even told me to get out!"
"What did you do?"
"I left. Give me a cigarette, will you? I'm getting shaky again."
She said nothing more until she had taken the first long drag.
"Thanks. Where was I? Oh yes, well after the trip to the camp it was more nightmares and more hell. I finally got myself pulled together ... each time it takes longer. Anyway, I hadn't slept in a couple of nights so I decided to eat, take a long hike, and then soak in the bathtub. If that wouldn't put me to sleep ... along with a sleeping pill, then there was no hope.
"I did just that. I ate a good lunch and I hiked clear to the top of that mountain. That's where I met him, right at the top. This little boy ... even younger than Danny ... had run away from the camp and was hiding onshould have taken off running like a jack rabbit, but I didn't."
"What did you do?"
"Talked ... and when he squatted down facing me ... with his little bulge staring me in the face, I reached over and began to massage it. I just couldn't help myself, Don."
He nodded that he understood. Whatever he felt, he showed no sign of disgust.
"He didn't object, I suppose."
"No, he liked it," she admitted. "Before I could stop myself I had his sweet little cock out of his pants and was busy sucking him off. Disgusting, isn't it?"
"I imagine it is to you," he agreed.
"I was going through my little hell again when you came ... I'd been at it all night, in fact."
"Did you agree to meet with him this afternoon then?" Don asked.
Meg closed her eyes and squeezed back the tears. "Yes," she whispered. "Don, I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"I didn't think about it at all until we started walking. I was enjoying it so much and then ... my legs working together ... something ... I don't know."
"He wasn't alone, was he?"
"How did you know?"
He shrugged. "One little boy couldn't have gotten you into that kind of shape," he said.
"There were ten or twelve. I didn't count. Seeing them there made me sick ... kind of dizzy. You know? I leaned against a rock and then I sat down ... and there was that little boy sitting beside me. He was playing with himself. Watching the way his fingers worked over his rigid little prod made the sickness wash over me. Then he grinned at me and took his hands away, and I was touching him. Touching! If that was only all I did! Oh God!"
Now he soothed her. Now he kissed away her tears and worked to calm her tortured fear.
"Easy, Meg," he whispered. "It's all over. You've got it out in the open where we can fight it. Believe me, Meg. That's the worst part of the battle."
"I'm so ashamed," she sobbed.
"Of what? Of having a normal sex drive that's been thwarted for too long? It's no shame to be a warm, giving woman, and that is what you are, Meg. That's all you are."
"I'm not sick in the head?"
"Definitely not! All you need to get these boys out of your system is a man." He said it with a grin. "If you weren't so bunged up, I'd offer to demonstrate," he added.
Wistfully, she sighed. "I wish it were true. Lord, how I wish it, but when I think of a small, tender...."
"Then don't think of it," Don ordered. "Once you've had a man again. Once you get sex every night and half the mornings, you'll get so you're saying, 'Not tonight, dear. I have a headache,'just like any other woman. Little boys seem extra erotic only because they're forbidden fruit and you've forbidden yourself to enjoy any sexual outlet for over a year. You dam that stuff up, Meg, and it's got to come out somewhere."
He ran his fingers through Meg's hair as he talked. Soon she was too relaxed to want anything but sleep.
"You rest," he ordered her, "because the first thing tomorrow morning, we're going back to the city."
"Ohh?" she asked languorously. "Why?"
"If we stay here they'll be back, and there's enough of them to cause serious trouble."
"Whatever you say, Don," she purred.
"I'm going to stay with you for a few days until we see if this Danny character is going to bother you anymore. Once we take care of that, you should have no more trouble."
It was nice to have someone else worry for her. For once she would get some sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Meg couldn't know all of the worries Don was carrying for her. A half hour after she fell asleep, one of the instructors from the boy's camp dropped by to investigate some rumors that were running rampant through the camp. Was there a woman living here? he asked. The doctor assured him that there was, but added that she was ill and confined to her bed.
"I'm her doctor," he told the young man. "I dropped in to see how she was yesterday morning and I've been trying to get her well enough to move ever since. Couldn't very well leave her alone. I'm driving her back to the city first thing in the morning."
"Thank God," the man answered with a nervous laugh. "You wouldn't believe the nonsense these kids have come up with. They're slum kids, you know, and I guess the mountain air was just too tame for them. Look, I'm sorry I bothered you ... I, uh, hate to ask, but could you describe her?"
"Certainly, but then all of you have seen her, I'm sure," Don answered.
"No ... I don't think so."
"When she first took sick, she went to find a phone, trying to call me. She drove into your place ... told me the camp was full of kids swimming without their clothes on ... even the lifeguards. She said she was so shocked that she didn't even ask about the phone ... started on to town and then felt so bad she went back to the cabin to bed."
"I'm sorry," the director said. "I think I did hear about that. Then that's where the boys saw her, obviously. Some of these kids can come off the wall with the damdest things. Sorry I bothered you."
"That's perfectly all right. I was lonesome and kind of bored anyway. I'd offer you a drink, but she doesn't keep anything in the house. Want some coffee?"
"Thanks ... no. I've got to get back."
Don was satisfied that he'd solved that problem as he watched the young man climb into the panel wagon and drive away. It sure as hell wouldn't help Meg to put her in jail, and nothing he could do would erase the time she'd already spent with those boys. He wasn't worried over the incident marring the boys' minds anyway. In all probability that would remember it as the high point of their sex lives.
He lay awake much of the night, however, worrying about Meg. Sacked out on the divan when he wanted to be snuggled against her in bed, he wondered how long it would be before he'd get her straightened out enough to be ready for what he had to give.
Don had wanted the woman from the moment he first saw her, but the more he talked with her and came to know her, the more he wanted it to be something lasting. Meg had a lot of qualities that were rare in a woman. Her sexual capacity had certainly never been a handicap until the death of her first husband, and he felt certain it would again be an asset in a second marriage. It was only now when she was alone that it worked against her.
Meg had a good sense of moral values and a feeling of her own worth that he admired, but it was these very qualities that now worked against her sexual needs to produce mayhem. She couldn't walk into a bar and pick up a man for one night. For a year she'd denied her body's physical demands until the opportunity and vehicle were thrust at her. Only then did her defenses crumble.
Don couldn't minimize Meg's problem for it was very real, but he could and did understand the cause of it. Curiously her confession drew him to her until his attraction for her was even stronger than before. She'd been somewhat self-sufficient as a patient, too proud to take help from anyone. Now she was defenseless and vulnerable ... and it was appealing. This thing that had caused it ... well, he just wasn't going to think about it, he decided ... so he thought about it all night long. The sun was up when he finally fell asleep.
Meg slept well for the first time in weeks. She didn't wake up, in fact, until afternoon, and then she found Don still asleep on the couch. She dreaded having to face him. Keeping as quiet as possible, she made coffee. Before she could start breakfast, the smell from the percolator had him awake.
"You're beautiful over a hot stove," he said.
"Shows how much you know," she snorted. "That's the stove. This is the sink."
"Whatever."
"The coffee will be ready in a minute."
She couldn't look at him. When he realized she was avoiding his eyes, he got up and went to her.
"I said you were beautiful," he said warmly.
Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around to face him.
"I don't feel beautiful," she said. "I feel ugly and dirty inside."
He lifted her chin and she finally had to face him. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she slowly shook her head.
"Hey," he called gently, "I'm the doctor, remember? I can see clear inside you ... clear through you ... and I say you're beautiful."
He leaned down and kissed the tears from her cheeks. Nervously, she laughed.
"That's some bedside manner," she said.
"And besides all that beauty, you make the best smelling coffee in town."
"Oh! It's ready. Do you want some?"
With the first hurdle jumped, it was easier. Meg couldn't forget her shame but she was able to relax a little better with the man who had come to help her.
It was evening before they got back to the city. Meg hadn't exactly chattered all the way, but she'd carried her end of the conversation until they saw the lights of the city ahead and started over the bridge. For the next thirty minutes or so, she didn't say a word.
"You all right?" he asked when he noticed the way she squirmed.
"I'm edgy," she admitted.
"Nervous?"
"I guess so."
"I can stop at a drug store and get something."
"No. Forget it. I'll be all right."
She didn't sound all right. Don searched through his memory bank for a similar behavior pattern. He could think of nothing and cursed himself for trying. He was too involved emotionally to diagnose. He wasn't even sure she was exhibiting any symptoms.
She was forced to direct him to her home, once he'd reached her neighborhood and it seemed to Don that her directions were peculiarly brisk.
"There ... the brick and board and batten. If you'll pull into the drive, I'll open the garage."
"I can do that."
"It's locked. You could never find the key."
He didn't argue. He sat there, wondering if she was still upset about having to leave her car. He'd felt she shouldn't drive, and he knew he'd feel safer if she couldn't drive around the city alone while he was at the office. She hadn't fought it, but she could be angry about it now.
I'll ignore it, he decided as he pulled into the garage. If only I could get her to smile.
He couldn't. She made coffee and he noticed her hands were shaking. Several times he noticed a shiver running through her.
"Meg," he said finally, "you've had quite a day. Why don't you climb into bed right now? I'll run over to my place and pack a few things and then pick up some snacks at the delicatessen. You be a good girl and I'll serve your dinner in bed."
"I'm not good. You know that," she snapped. "Meg," he said firmly, "you're reading things in where they don't belong. What's the matter?"
She was hollow-eyed as she shook her head. "I don't know," she answered grimly.
"Then go to bed," he ordered. "You'll feel better in the morning."
"And how do I sleep when I get there?" she wanted to know. "Do I take two with the doctor watching or lay awake and hate myself on one?"
"You take one, and I'll rub your back."
"Why? Why are you doing all this?"
Don grinned. "Business is slow," he said.
She shook her head, turned, and marched into her bedroom. Don waited for about ten minutes and then knocked on her door.
"Come on in," she answered wearily.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed which had already been turned down. She held a glass of water in one hand, the pill in the other.
"You can count if you like," she said.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "You're beautiful in blue, Meg. With your hair down like that, you look like a queen."
She couldn't accept a compliment. Her magnificent breasts were encased in a clinging blue lace, and her long, proud neck and creamy shoulders were deliciously exposed. The floor-length gown clung to her waist and thighs and over it all tumbled her thick, luxuriant brown-black hair. Every part of her invited compliments and adoration, yet she turned away, shivered, and quickly slipped into bed where the covers could hide what she had to give.
"Turn over and I'll rub your back," he ordered.
"Who the shit is he?"
Both Meg and Don jumped at the sound of the boyish voice. When they turned they saw Danny standing in the doorway glaring at them furiously.
"You must be Danny," Don said quietly.
"Who is this bastard, anyway?" the boy snapped.
"Danny ... I...." Meg stammered. The whine in her voice was unmistakable.
"I'm Mrs. Culbertson's doctor," Don said.
"Since when do doctors go out and rub their patients' backs?" the boy sneered. "She don't need no doctor."
"I suppose you think all she needs is you?" Don asked.
"That's right. Since she's told you my name, I suppose you know how, too."
"Yes."
"Then why don't you just cut out, Doc? Me and her got business to take care of."
"Danny," whimpered Meg.
"It's all right, Meg," Don said quietly. "I won't let him touch you."
But the boy knew how to get what he wanted. Without a word, he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed his shorts down under his balls. His youthful cock was jutting straight at her as he approached the bed. Don glanced at Meg and saw the hungry torture in her eyes.
"Can't you see what you're doing to her?" he demanded. "Son, this woman is...."
"Go home, Don," Meg hissed. "Get out now unless you want to see what an ass I can make of myself."
"Meg, I can't let...."
"Get out! GET OUT!"
He turned and the boy was grinning at him smugly. Then he reached down, took the base of his cock between thumb and forefinger, and shook it at his adversary.
"Ta-ta," he smirked. "Dickie and me are waving you a quick good-bye, Doc. We got to give the lady her medicine now."
He didn't wait another instant but squirmed on out of his pants and went around to climb in on the far side of the bed.
"Get out, Don," pleaded Meg. "Please don't watch this! Oh God, won't you please, please go?"
Mutely, Don nodded. He got up and walked out of the room without once looking back. He was careful to give the impression of defeat, for he wanted the boy to think he had gone.
"Hey, that was cool," Danny said with enthusiasm. "I showed him, didn't I?"
"Come here, damn you!" Meg hissed.
Pushing him roughly backward, he dropped instantly down and sucked his turgid love-muscle into her mouth. With great, slurping draws, she attacked.
"Eyiii! Take it easy! Oh, geez, that's so great!"
Danny stretched out, glorying in the sensations that rushed through him. This was the life. He could take this kind of working over a dozen times a day and never tire of it.
"Nnnnn! Ohhhhh! Ahhhh!" Meg groaned.
She was all over him, siphoning his prick one minute and sucking on his balls the next. Her fingers pushed hard against his puckered asshole. Her movements were frenzied ... compulsive until, after only a couple of minutes, she pulled him over the edge into his first orgasm.
"Easy, Mama, EASY!" he wailed.
She paid no attention.
"Lady! Hey! Oh jeez, I'm cummmming!"
She didn't hear.
"AHHHHHHH! Oh sonofabitch! Ohhhhhhhh!"
His small body arced into a rigid bow and then slowly ... slowly relaxed.
Meg never missed a stroke. If anything, she became more aggressive for his pliant, soft flesh whipped her passions into a fury of excitement.
"Hey," he moaned. "Easy ... take it easy. Come on. Let me alone."
With his cock soft, she could suck in balls and all. Greedily, she siphoned him, so transported with ecstasy that her limbs jerked and flailed spasmodically. As the boy's flesh began to respond, she worked it so intently that neither she nor Danny noticed Don return.
Naked he came to them and naked he climbed in beside them. With Meg between him and the boy, he moved in close beside her, molding his body against hers. He reached for the hem of her gown and slowly worked it up until his hand could move in upon her bare thighs, and all the while his movements were gentle and relaxed, never intruding upon her mood. She felt warm. She felt loved, but she was too engrossed in her pursuits to notice why.
"That's better," sighed the boy. "Wow, you were sucking hard there for a while. Don't want to get me raw, do you? I couldn't let you suck it then. Wouldn't that be terrible? Oh, Mama, am I glad you like to suck 'cause I can sure use a lot of it. That fucking Mama of mine ... my real one, you know? Well, she sucks her boyfriend off all the time. I've seen 'em, but you don't see her offering to do it for me. Oh, hell no! She'll sit out there in his car, sucking him off right in front of the house. Hell, we all know what she's doing, but she don't do it for me. She don't do nothing for me. Maybe I'll let you be my Mama instead. Man, you sure know how to suck cock."
He lay there, splayed out like a frog with his arms folded back behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling, and he talked in a visity kind of way, jabbering on and on about his favorite subject.
Don had Meg's nightie all the way up to her shoulders now. With his aching prod nuzzled into the crease of her ass and his body tight against her, he slowly worked his arm beneath her until he could wrap both arms around her. Then one hand found her breast while the other grazed over her belly. She didn't tense until his fingers slipped into her bush.
"Ugh!" she grunted.
"It's all right," he whispered. "Take it easy, Meg. I'm not going to stop you."
She jerked her head back from the boy's cock, releasing it for the first time since Danny climbed onto the bed.
"I just want to hold you," Don said. "I need to hold you, Meg."
"What do you mean? You don't need anything.
You're the doctor, remember?"
"I'm not here as a doctor. You know that."
"Bull. You're .making the big sacrifice, trying to help your poor demented patient. You figure you can prove that a man can do what a boy can't. You...."
It was time to drop the patient, considerate approach.
"Fuck off," snorted Danny. "You're supposed to wait in line, buster. I get mine first."
Grabbing Meg by the hair, Don rammed her face into the boy's crotch.
"Eat it," he ordered. "Quit psychoanalyzing me and get back to work. I've got a few projects in mind myself."
Ripping back the covers, he jerked open her legs and dropped into her cunt. She was hot and moist and sweet as hell. And from the moment his mouth touched home plate, she began to respond.
"Ahhhhhhhh! Oh, Donnnnnnnn!" she cried.
"Suck it!" wailed the boy. "You're forgetting to suck."
Meg gave and Don gave and the boy took. It was that very difference that soon separated man from boy; it was a difference Don desperately hoped to prove.
He hadn't wanted it like this. He'd hoped he could love her gently ... tenderly, but she was too hot to argue with now, and the boy would fight it if he had the chance. So be it. He'd start with the underbelly, and love the rest of the woman when she could relax. His hand slid up across her belly, searching for her magnificent breasts, and when he found them he fondled them tenderly. While his lips nuzzled and his tongue probed, his hands made love to her beautiful breasts.
She went on sucking, but he didn't care. She was a child sucking her thumb, and Danny's rigid little penis was that thumb. He found her cove and stabbed his tongue into it, then slithered back up her slippery, molten rut until he came to the hard little kernel with the pounding, spasming pulse. He let his tongue hover against it, then settle its smoldering surface downward until it was thrusting hard against the boiling seed.
"Nnnnnngh! Nnnnnngh! NNNNNNNNGH! " she grunted, her cries muffled in Danny's flesh.
"EYIIIIIIIII!" the boy wailed, and Don knew he was there.
Jerking Meg away, he raised up and threw himself at her. Miraculously, his prod drove itself in on the first thrust, honing in on Meg's vaginal lovenest like a lance hitting the bull's eye.
Don braced himself for her struggle, expecting that her compulsion for oralism would cause her to fight him at first. To his complete surprise, she locked both her arms and her legs up around him, hugging him to her for all she was worth.
"Fuck me, Don!" she begged. "Oh God, it's so good!"
He stabbed it into her, again and again, and he reveled in her eager response.
"How, Meg?" he demanded. "Tell me how."
"Mmmmmmmm, big! So nice and big!" she purred. "Oh, Don, you hit places I've needed touched for so long. Hmmmm. You're even hitting a few places that are brand new. "
She shivered deliciously.
"Bastard," muttered the boy.
Don grinned. "Never send a boy to do a man's job," he snorted. "Fuck off, kid."
"Don, don't," Meg whimpered. "Please. Just make me feel loved. Oh God, how I need to be loved!"
"You are loved, Meg," he whispered hoarsely, but if she heard, she didn't let on.
"You don't need to think you're cutting me out," the boy growled. "I'll make you real sorry if you ever try."
Meg squeezed Don with her thighs and he poled into her again and again. The long, deliberate strokes quickened. Faster and faster they worked until their rhythm deteriorated to little more than a strained, shuddering spasm.
"Now, Don," she whispered. "Do it to me now!"
He was doing it all to her and more, jabbing her ... grinding his cock into her and then working it around and round with a frenzy of movements as he tried to feel all of her. She was ripe, physical perfection. He doubled in against her and sucked in the turgid nipple of her breast. As his emotions soared, he sucked life from the mother earth.
"Don! Run it clear through me!" she cried. "Oh, my God!"
Her body strained against him, tautly rigid, and then he felt her vaginal muscles explode. They churned and throbbed and milked his searing flesh until they literally pulled the cream of life from his aching balls.
"OHHHHHHHHHH! " he roared.
The thunder of his voice and the shudder of his body merged into one seizure of passion so intense that it thrilled Meg to the very core. She held him to her, savoring his excitement and thrilling to the magnitude of his release.
"Oh, Don! Oh, Don! Hold me tight!"
And now came the test. She had found release with youngsters, and he imagined that release was probably pretty potent stuff, but there was one thing besides a full-sized cock that she probably never got from a boy ... the holding, the gentle after-moments a man and woman share after their release.
With his cock still inside of her, turning to jelly at its own slow pace, Don held Meg in his arms. He ran his fingers through her hair. He told her she was beautiful, and he told her she was warm. Everything he could think of to show her his gratitude, he was careful to do. Smugly, he noted that the boy got bored and went in to take a shower.
"I've wanted to make love to you since the first day you came into my office," Don whispered.
"Yes," she answered. "You told me then that that was what I needed. Thanks for filling the prescription."
"No, Meg," he said. "You can't believe that."
She pulled away and there were tears in her eyes when she looked at him.
"Don, please," she sobbed. "No man in his right mind could possibly want me."
CHAPTER NINE
"Meg ... please shut your beautiful mouth ... dear," he said with herculean patience. "In another month I'll be a free man, and the day after I'm free I can't think of anything I'd rather do than marry this beautiful thing. I'm not interested in giving you any kind of therapy except a lot of love, and you've had that without realizing it for a long time."
"Don, how...?"
He shut her up with a kiss that held both tenderness and an air of authority. At first, Meg was too stunned to react. Then, as she began to believe, she warmed to him and embraced him responsively.
"You see, I really wasn't all that shocked, was I?" he teased. "I understand all that's happened to you better than you do, Meg. Someday you'll understand it too. For now, relax. You're never going to be able to enjoy all the love I have to give you until you get over this hate-yourself campaign."
"You said you were going to be free," she mused. "Are you getting a divorce?"
He nodded. "We haven't actually lived together for several years, and we never did have anything in common except for our loving the same money. I like keeping some of what I earn. Monica wanted it all, so we were never able to come to terms on a divorce. She's a methodical, patient woman in a vindictive way. She settled down with a separation allowance and waited for three years, hoping she could catch me at something. She even had a detective trailing me around with a camera for a while ... with bait, yet."
"How come she gave up?"
"Met a man ... fell for him. She couldn't get him to move in unless she married him. She left for Las Vegas two weeks ago. It will all be over in a month."
"I'll bet it would be a different ball game if she heard about this," Danny taunted.
Don and Meg looked up and saw the boy standing defiantly in the bathroom door.
"I heard it all," he said proudly. "You think you can just get married and erase me out of your lives, don't you? Well, screw you!"
Don frowned. "I'll admit the thought is a pleasant one," he said, "but I'm prepared to offer a little more than that. If you'll take that chip off your shoulder for a minute, perhaps we can come to terms."
"I don't want your money," the boy snapped. "There ain't nothing you can give me. She's got what I want!"
Don's mouth opened, then quickly closed. Taking a deep breath, he said, "We'll find a way to work it out."
"Supposing you just work yourself on out of here," the boy suggested tauntingly. "She and me want to be alone."
"No, Danny," Meg pleaded. "I don't want to be like...."
He turned and glared at her. Grabbing up his limp pecker, he began to jack it up. His hand moved briskly ... impudently. It was his open-sesame, and he needed to prove its power. Furiously, he waved his little wand at Meg.
Don could read his furious little mind. Turning away from the boy, he pressed his lips to Meg's ear.
"Humor him, Meg," he hissed. "He's frightened and alone. I'm going to get the car out and wait for him to leave. I'll follow him home. I can't tell what to do for him until I know more about the boy."
"Don, you can't want me to ..
"Do you mind, Meg? Too much?"
"No, I just thought...."
"Tell me something, Meg. If it had to come to that, would you enjoy having him around?"
"It wouldn't be right."
"I didn't ask that. I asked ... "
"Get that bastard out of here, lady," hissed the boy.
"I'm leaving," Don assured him. "Meg? Can you tell me how you feel?"
"It's wrong."
"But if it wasn't."
Slowly she nodded her head, grudgingly admitting that she did enjoy the boy.
Don didn't care what the boy heard now. Getting up from the bed, he smiled. "I want you to myself, naturally," he admitted, "but I'm not so sure that's the only way. It may be easier to join him than fight him."
"Glad you've decided to use your head," Danny sniffed. "Now scram on out of here. I ain't joining you in nothing."
"I may learn to put up with you, young man," Don said, "but I'm not going to tolerate that attitude of yours for long. I'll be back in an hour or two, Meg. Don't fight yourself while I'm gone. You're beautiful, and I love you ... just the way you are."
"Thank you, Don," she whispered.
Don backed his car out of the garage and parked it down the block. Then he locked up and went back to the house. He had no voyeuristic urge to watch what Meg and the boy were up to, but he didn't dare leave them completely alone.
Danny was far more disturbed emotionally then Meg had ever been. He would be unpredictable, too, Don decided. The child's snarling, defiant attitude toward him masked a deep-seated insecurity, Don was sure, and when the boy popped off about his mother's sexual promiscuity, it gave Don insight into the hurt, bewildered child beneath. The boy needed sex to prove that he was as much a man as the men in his mother's life. He was ashamed ... sickened ... furious.
But what to do about it? It was true that a person in that kind of condition could and would do almost anything to keep his security from being threatened. Don had boxed the boy into a comer simply by being there. He felt certain that Danny would rather see Meg in jail or in a mental institution rather than give her up to another man....
What am I thinking about? Don asked himself abruptly. Another man! My God! Danny won't be a man for six or seven more years! I can't let myself think of him as a competitor. He's sick, and he's a child. A part of that sickness is a threat to Meg. Therefore, I'm going to have to treat the boy in order to cure the woman.
While Don concerned himself with thoughts of the woman and the boy, he was careful not to let himself notice the way his heart began to pound as he neared the place where they were. He listened at the door, but all was quiet. Having left the door ajar, he checked to see if they were both still laying on the bed. There was no violent or threatening motions, and they'd turned out the light. Disappointed, he started to turn away. Then he heard the faint whisper of the child.
"Suck me, Mama. Suck me, balls and all!"
Stiffly, Don walked down the hall and sat in the darkest comer of the living room where he would not be noticed. He was painfully aware of his own rigid erection.
Now who's sick? he asked himself. My God, man, you get as big a thrill as she does when she gives it to the boy.
Don heard Danny's cry of elation when the boy reached his crest. It grated against his nerves like chalk gritting its way up a blackboard and his cock got so hard that it ached. When he didn't hear Meg, he hoped the boy had not left her hanging.
He moved over next to the hall, peering around the comer until he saw a movement and heard Danny make some remark about tomorrow. Quickly, Don slipped outside and climbed into his car.
The boy moved so fast through the shadows that Don almost missed him. Several times he was sure he'd lost him only to catch sight of him again in the next block. The child was smart enough to stay off the sidewalks most of the way, preferring to cut through back yards.
Gradually, they worked their way out of the sprawling California ranch-style homes and into an older, poorer section of the city. The houses were smaller and ill-kept and when there were garages, they were not attached to the house. In place of lawns and shrubs there were wire fences surrounding either weeds or dirt. It was one with dirt that Danny hopped the fence to enter.
Don memorized the block and the house for there was no street number on the house? The street itself was called Madrone.
No light came on after Danny slipped through the front door. Don drove back to Meg's. He found her in the kitchen having a cup of coffee. She was shaky but smiling.
"I'm glad you're back," she said.
Don went to her and took her in his arms. "I'm glad you're glad, and that smile is the best thing I've seen in ages."
He kissed her, and she responded warmly. Though she was careful not to appear too eager, he could tell by the way her body quivered that the boy had left her unfulfilled. He was glad since he'd been carrying around an urgent ache of his own.
"You shouldn't drink coffee at night, you know," he scolded gently. "It will keep you awake."
Taking the cup from her hand, he poured the coffee down the drain, then walked her into her bed.
"You'll sleep good tonight," he promised, purposely teasing her. "When you're rested, we have a lot to talk about. "
"Don?" she whimpered.
"Yes?"
"You aren't leaving."
"Of course not," he teased. "All you have to do is call me and...."
"I'm calling," she whispered miserably, " ... right now."
Smiling, he took her in his arms. "I hoped you would," he said. "In fact, I was counting on it." Taking her hand, he guided it to the hard log trapped against his leg. The moment her eyes lit up, however, he pulled her hand away.
"You were teasing me," she exclaimed. "You let me think you weren't going to make love to me."
"You couldn't have driven me away," he said.
"No! Ohh! Don't touch. The fuse was lit quite a while ago, and it won't take much before I blow!"
Stepping away, he began to undress, his eyes never leaving hers. Hungrily, she watched him, then shed her own robe and gown while she waited.
Don was tall, firm, and still masculinely youthful. His thick, broad cock was ruggedly chiseled and twice the size of what she'd remembered a man to be. Meg decided he was everything she could want in a man.
Naked, they stood there staring at each other. Then, with a shudder of excitement racing through him, he scooped Meg up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Though it was only a few feet away, he paused to kiss her before he laid her down. Her arms went around his broad shoulders as she hugged him to her. Then he carried her down with him, laying side to side, skin to skin.
Lips on Ups ... her breasts brushing against his chest, then crushing against him ... bellies grazing and a hard cock snuggled into a delightfully warm cove ... bristling legs against smooth, silky calves and, as the excitement increased, feet and toes curling and twisting together.
They lay on their sides, straining to keep their thighs as close together as possible, and now that they were finally alone, Meg discovered bliss. It was a beautiful warm glow that flooded through her, as hot as lust, yet richer and more comfortable to live with.
"I can't believe this is happening," she whispered. "It's too good to be true. "You don't have to love me, Don. Just feeling some affection for me is...."
She was at it again, tearing at herself. Would she ever get over it? he wondered. He kissed her and playfully told her to hush. He molded her marvelous breasts, then slipped down to outline her rump and thighs.
He couldn't get enough of the feel of her. Her flesh was so creamy and moist, and everything and every part of her was warmly responsive. It wasn't long before he was too hot and had to pull away. Lovingly he fondled her pussy lips until he could stand to feel it again with his prod.
"It feels so right in your arms," she purred.
"I've had to wait a long time to get you here," he said. "It's almost a relief."
"I wish I could have waited," she said wistfully.
"Hush, Meg. I didn't have the pressures you did ... and what pressures I did have were used up. I didn't sit around saying no to myself like you did."
"Is that all it was?"
"That was a lot of it. Mmmmmm, you smell good ... and you feel good...." He kissed her, pushing his tongue in to twine around hers. "And taste good," he added.
Both of them wanted it to last. They wanted to savor it and explore these wondrous, new feelings, but it wasn't long before they were too strained to prolong the glow.
"Don," she whimpered. "Please?"
"Yessss," he hissed. "Damn! I wanted it to be so right! ... especially the first time! Danny spoiled it and now ... now we're rushing through it. I'm sorry ... I can't help it, Meg ... I need you!"
"Take me, Don," she answered hoarsely. "Take me now!"
She rolled over onto her back as he rose above her. She spread her legs eagerly, and he climbed in between her pliant thighs. She strained to meet him, reaching for his pole, and guiding it into her smoldering love-nest."
"Hurry!" she urged.
He could feel her membranes reaching out to his cockhead, and he took a deep breath as he sunk his feverish dick into her steaming cunt. It went down ... and down ... and in ... and in, and from around and above and under and through, it filled him with ecstasy. Her love-juices flowed, boiling hotly up around him.
"Ohhhhhh, Don! Ohhhhhhhhhh!"
"I need you, Meg. You're so damn good!"
It was good. It was rapid, it was rushed, but it was good. Don doubled over and buried his face in her spongy, tight breasts, nuzzling until his mouth found a turgid nipple. He sucked it with passion.
Meg had never felt so completely possessed. She wrapped her legs up around Don's middle and eagerly squeezed him in. He kneaded her sweet ass with his hands and it was all a part of the one, wondrous whole. The more he gave her, the more she seemed to need.
"Harder, Don! Harder!" she urged.
His long, powerful drives became shorter as they quickened, and the pace grew steadily more rapid until it was little more than a rhythmless jab. Meg's mouth was dry as she strained for air and her heart pounded furiously.
They strained; they pushed; they ground hotly against each other as they edged ever closer to the abyss.
"Come with me, Meg," Don pleaded suddenly. "I can't hang on any longer. Come, Meg ... cummmmmmmmm! "
"Ohh! Ohhhh!" Meg whimpered frantically.
Her heels dug into his ass, and she slammed herself against him, but it wasn't enough. Dropping down, she dug her feet into the mattress and rammed upward with such force that she lifted them both. Grinding, rolling, rocking hotly up against him, she abandoned herself to the ultimate ecstasy. Completely and totally, she let herself go.
"Do it, Don! Do it! Do it! DO IT!"
For a long moment they soared together along the edge of passion's crest. Then Don felt his balls knot and his gravy burst free. Meg greeted the first shot with an ecstatic wail.
"AHHHHHHHHHH! " she cried; then her own emotions broke open and showered passion over them both.
Warm, voluptuous release flooded through their bodies and sapped them of the last smidgen of energy. Without any sleeping pill, Meg slept like a baby, her arms warmly embracing the body of Don Monleon.
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, but no one at the Culbertson house noticed. Meg and Don were fast asleep. Following the precedence set at the cabin, they did not begin to stir until noon.
When Meg woke up this time, however, she did not try to avoid her doctor or grovel in her shame. She awoke happy, became deliriously excited when she found him there beside her, and immediately began showering him with her love.
"Wake up, beautiful man," she whispered. "Wake up and turn over. I want to see you."
She tickled her fingers up over his broad shoulder and on down his arm.
"Have a heart," he groaned without moving. "Let the sun get up before you begin to nag."
"Sun up? Baloney!" she laughed. "It's noon, love. You are a very lazy man."
"Ohhhh," he grunted with a start. "Not again! I had important things to do today."
He raised up on one elbow and squinted at the window. There was no erasing the cruel sun that blatantly glared back at him. Rubbing his face, he turned away.
"Mmmmmm, I hoped you'd say that," she purred. "Turn over and let's get started."
But he hadn't meant that kind of important thing. Laughing, he turned to tousle her hair.
"I've got to get over to that boy's house, Meg. Damn, I was hoping I'd have something figured out by now."
"Whatever are you talking about?" she demanded.
"Danny," he said. "Something is going to have to be done about the boy. You know that, surely."
"Yes," she admitted, "but what?"
"Well, if I were unethical, I'd let him start spouting and then get him declared insane. Then I could have him committed ... but I'm not unethical, Meg."
She shuddered. Smiling tenderly, she reached up and gave his cheek a kiss.
"No, I wouldn't want that sort of thing to happen to anyone," she said. "Perhaps, if you threatened him ... if he realized you could do such a thing ... wouldn't that be enough?"
"Threaten him? No, I hardly think I'm that type either ... and neither are you, Meg."
"But he's threatening to blackmail us," she reminded him. "That's a terrible thing."
"He's just a boy."
"Of course. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. The only reason I have ready answers so far is that I woke up in the middle of the night and worried it all out. I still don't have any sort of solution, but I do have a couple of ideas."
"I'm ready to listen."
"If I'm not badly mistaken the boy has an environment problem that has disturbed him severely. I want to see just how bad the home is before I know what to try on him. We owe it to him to help him if we can."
"Oh, Don, that would be wonderful. Do you mean that we could make him happy enough that he'd forget about us?"
"I don't really know what I mean yet, Meg," Don said evasively. Pulling back the covers, he swung around and got to his feet. "I won't know what I mean until I get over there and see what the situation is," he added.
She watched him stretch his very desirable frame and then head it toward the bathroom.
"Hurry back," she coaxed wistfully as he disappeared behind the door.
Don's head popped back into the doorway and he grinned. "Will do," he promised. "How about brewing up a pot of that great coffee you make while I'm in the shower?"
"Brother!" she snickered. "That's using psychology."
Whatever the method, it got her up. Meg hopped out of bed, and by the time Don was out of the shower, not only was there coffee waiting, but bacon and eggs as well.
"How do you propose to find out about Danny's family?" she asked.
"I'm not sure yet."
"You aren't going to play private eye, I hope. Skulking around in dark alleys can be dangerous."
"I hope it won't come to that," he said.
"Perhaps you can talk to the neighbors. There's always one gossipy old lady that knows all and is dying to tell it."
"No ... oh, I don't know. Really, Meg, I thought about it for hours last night. I finally decided that I'd just wait and size up the situation when I get there. I'm going to play it all by ear."
He answered her questions but his mind was elsewhere so Meg didn't press. He ate, complimented her on her cooking, and then excused himself.
"The sooner I get this over with, the easier it will be," he said. "I'll see you later."
She kissed him good-bye.
"One thing, Meg," he warned. "If Danny should come around while I'm gone, humor him."
"How do you mean?"
"Do whatever he asks, Meg," Don cautioned. "Don't argue with him on any account. Remember ... anything he asks."
"All right, Don," she promised quietly, "whatever he asks."
CHAPTER TEN
Don had intended to park down the block from Danny's house and watch it for a while until he could decide what to do. Somewhat surprised at his own actions, he drove directly to the boy's house instead.
I said I'd play it by ear, he thought with a shrug. This must be the best way.
Once he'd parked in such an obvious position, the only thing to do was get out and go in. He couldn't very well just sit there. He got out, looked around, and decided to lock his car. No use taking chances in this neighborhood. Several surly-looking children were eyeing him from the house next door and some hippie-type teenagers watched from down the block. No wonder Danny roamed out of his own area.
He walked to the gate and wrestled with the catch for a few moments. It had broken and been repaired with a piece of wire which had to be unwrapped each time the gate was open. Fumbling with it, Don chuckled to himself, thinking, "There goes my dignified grand entrance."
A very young and very pregnant girl opened the door and stared out at him.
"We don't want any," she said.
"Any what?" he asked.
"Whatever you're selling."
"I'm not selling. I'm a friend of Danny's."
"Huh, that's a laugh. Danny never had a friend in his life. Danny! This here man says he's your friend."
Don gave up on the gate and hopped on over just as Danny appeared in the doorway. Don knew he'd have to start talking before the boy did or all would be lost.
"He ain't...."
"Danny's been doing some work for me," Don said quickly. "I'm a doctor. I'd like to talk to your mother, Danny. I thought maybe we could work out something a little more permanent."
"Huh?"
"Is your mother at home, Danny?"
"You been working? You ain't brought a fucking dime ... 'scuse me, Doc, but he ain't brought none of it home, and we could use the help."
"He hasn't brought anything home because I haven't paid him yet," Don countered with a show of impatience which he knew would please Danny. "Now, is your mother home please?"
Without budging an inch, the girl bellowed, "Ma!"
"Who is it, Melody?"
The girl that joined the others at the door obviously wasn't Danny's mother. A little older than her sister and a little taller, she was also just a little less pregnant. Don figured one girl was perhaps fifteen and the other sixteen or seventeen.
The worried-looking woman who was their mother finally arrived. She was no painted hussy as Danny had pictured her, just a thin, angularly bony woman who looked more tired than anything else.
"Says he's a friend of Danny's," Melody rasped.
"How'd you do?" she asked. "I hope he ain't done nothing wrong."
She looked like she expected that he had. There was still a very grimy screen door between them.
"No," Don assured her quickly. "May I come in?"
"Well, uh ... the place is a mess, but if you don't mind. Here, you kids. Get out of the way. Come on in. You'll have to excuse us. We haven't been having it easy since...."
"We never had it easy," the older daughter snapped.
"I know but ... my two girls both got themselves knocked up ... rotten boys ... neither one of them would own up to it. I don't know what the world's coming to. Kids don't have no respect anymore. We ain't welfare, you know. I'm too proud for that. I work ... I support them myself. I've never had a dime's worth of help from their father. They all got the same father, too, by God ... not like the trash that lives around us."
"Ma, you talk too much," Melody said.
"She hasn't said anything cruel," Don told the girl. "You may say fewer words, but you've already cut down both your brother and your mother. Who would you say talked too much, Danny?"
Danny hadn't said a single word, but now he grinned.
"Melody!" he said with fervor.
"Bullshit," snorted the girl, and she turned and stamped into her room.
They opened the door for him and he stepped inside. The living room was every bit as messy as she'd warned it would be. It was small and dreary and there were piles of newspapers and dirty clothes on the chairs. She pulled aside another pile of unironed clothes on the divan to make a place for him to sit.
"Excuse the...."
"It's fine."
"And this is about Danny? ... what you come for, I mean."
"Yes," Don said as he stalled for time.
His brain was churning now. Danny leaned against the wall, his face impassive as he watched to see what move the doctor would make. Don felt, at that moment, that he'd already fallen on his face.
Got to think up a tie that won't involve Meg. The office. Yes, he worked for me around the office? Christ! What does a twelve-year-old find to do for pay around a psychiatrist's office. Weed the planter? Mow the postage stamp yard when there's already a gardener who does all the grounds for the building? Hardly.
"Danny was looking for work when I met him," he said finally. "There wasn't much he could do around the office ... except weed the planters, but he seemed so eager to work that I let him do the yard at my home."
"You been working?" the boy's mother demanded. "How come you didn't tell me?"
"I haven't paid him anything, yet," Don said before the boy could answer.
"Good, then you can pay me ... right now," she said. "I work hard enough that I figure the kids ought to help out, too, when they can. They owe it ... especially Danny. He's been a thorn in my side since before he was born."
"How do you figure that?" Don asked.
"It was on account of my getting pregnant that third time that my husband ran out on me. He said he had dreams and nobody with a herd of kids ever had a chance of making their dreams come true.
Can you fancy that? Shit! I had dreams, too, not that they ever did me any good."
"That's what I came to see you about," Don jumped in.
"How you mean?"
"I have a patient who has never had any children. Her husband died a year ago and she's terribly lonely. I took Danny over to do her yard and the two of them have become great friends."
"So?" Danny's older sister queried.
"This lady is afraid of being alone. I suggested that she might feel safer if Danny stayed there."
"At her house?" Danny asked with an enthusiasm Don had never heard in him before.
"Yes, Danny," Don said.
"She wants him?" the mother asked incredulously.
"He'll drive her up a wall," the daughter assured him.
"I don't think so," Don said. "I'm a psychiatrist and I think they would be good for each other."
"You can say that again," the boy muttered.
"You're a shrink?" the sister asked. "You're the one that kid needs."
"I don't think even a shrink ... ah, a psychiatrist could help me," the mother mourned.
"I never mentioned this to Danny because I wanted to meet you first. I wouldn't want such a move to cause you any hardship. However, now that I'm here I think perhaps it would help you all. You'd have more room, more money left out of your pay check, and then Mrs. Culbertson would expect to pay a little something to you every month that the boy stayed with her. I believe it would help Danny, too. He's a good boy, but he has a few rough edges that could use rounding off. Mrs. Culbertson could do this for him."
"And she's going to pay me?" the mother asked. "Certainly. What kind of a student is Danny?"
"Terrible."
"Then he'll have to improve. If he stays with her, she'd like to see him on through college. Of course, that would depend on Danny. He'd have to want to change or Mrs. Culbertson would be better off without him at all. She wants good things for him so bad, you know. I don't want her disappointed anymore than she already has been."
"He'll change," the mother promised.
"Who says?" Danny snorted.
"I say, or I'll kick you in the seat of the pants. How much did you say she was going to pay me?"
"I didn't say," he answered pointedly. "That would be up to her."
"And me!" snapped the boy. "What about me?"
"You don't have to go, Danny," Don assured him. "That's entirely up to you and your family."
"He'll go."
"Yeah, I'll go. I sure as shit don't want to hang around here no more!"
"Danny!"
"Come on, shrink. Let's go."
What have I let myself in for? Don wondered. I surely didn't have to go this far to salve my conscience:
But he knew it was a good idea. The boy had intrigued him even as his foul mouth had made him mad. His mental disorder was classic, the kind they use in the books. Maybe he'd write him up one day. In the meantime he knew he would have to share Meg with a foul-mouthed, vile-minded little boy. Yet, even that had its attraction. How many men could go home to three-way sex every night? And so it came back to the old adage: Physician, heal thyself.
He'd played it by ear all the way and these crazy suggestions he'd come up with had been pulled out of his own mind. Right or wrong, they were the solution his subconscious had evolved, and he was stuck with them.
"Danny, if you'd like to come with me now, we can talk to Mrs. Culbertson and see how much she could offer your mother.."
"Anything is too much," snapped the boy.
"That's wrong, son," Don said firmly. "Apologize to your mother."
"In a pig's eye."
"Danny," Don said firmly and he took the boy's furious glare and stared right back. It went on for some time, with the mother spluttering in the background. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, the boy replied:
"I'm sorry," he said.
There are the words Meg is always using. What a life this is going to be. I'll have a wife that says the phrase too often and a stepson who can scarcely say it at all.
"That's good, son," he encouraged. "Now ask your mother if I have her permission to take you with me."
"Certainly," cut in the mother. "I'll miss him something fierce, but I wouldn't stand in his way."
"Crap," snorted her daughter.
Don felt sorry for Danny's mother. She wasn't a bad old gal ... just beat.
"Let's cut out of here," the boy grumbled.
But Don was looking for some kind of lever that would help keep the boy in line once they were alone.
"I'll be back tomorrow, Mrs. ... uh, good Lord, I don't think I ever heard your last name, Danny."
"O'Brian," he answered quickly. "Now let's...."
"Mrs. O'Brian," Don went on. Gripping the boy tightly by the shoulder, he held him there while he went on talking to the mother. "Here's my card. You can reach me any time through my answering service. Tell me, Mrs. O'Brian, if Danny does well with me, would you consider giving him up legally?"
"How you mean?"
"Well, if he was a very good boy end ... I don't have any children either, Mrs. O'Brian. This patient I spoke of ... we are thinking about getting married. Actually, I have proposed and she has accepted. We both have money ... not a lot, but we're comfortably situated. I...."
"And you want to make him yours so you can leave him everything. Oh, my God! That's just fabulous!"
"We're not planning on dying soon, Mrs. O'Brian."
She laughed. It was a throated, belly kind of thing that was an obvious hangover of happier days. She reached over and playfully cuffed the boy.
"Look at him," she said. "He may not think much of getting to go to college just yet ... but money? Oh, he understands that! Be good, Danny, or I'll kill ya!"
Danny was silent for some time after they left. When he did speak, his thoughts came as quite a surprise to Don.
"I ain't heard her laugh like that since I don't know when," he said.
"She's a good woman, Danny," Don said with feeling. "Don't let me hear you tear her down again. I mean that."
"She sucks cocks," he said with a sneer.
"There's nothing sinful about oral sex," Don argued. "Frankly, I feel sorry for her because she had to do it in a car ... had no place else to go. If she hadn't been a good mother, she'd have brought him into the house and told you kids to go to hell."
Danny quickly changed the subject. "You're running scared, taking me in like this."
"I could care less about your threats," Don snapped. "With your school record and reputation, nobody would believe your word against mine."
"I suppose you're going to pay my mother out of the goodness of your heart," the boy snorted. "That's a fucking laugh!"
"Watch your mouth, Danny," Don warned. "I'm going to explain it to you just once, so listen real close. I'm never going to repeat it, and I'll call you a liar if you pass it on. Meg could get along without you now. She has me. She does, however, carry feelings of guilt where you're concerned. You've caused a very decent woman to come to hate herself. I mean that literally, Danny. She hates herself for what you've conned her into doing."
"So what can I do about it?" the boy asked.
Don could see that he was beginning to squirm. Hopefully, he plowed on.
"There are other guilts I can't erase for her ... you started a chain reaction and it's put her through hell. Now, since we can't touch these other things, we have to make the whole thing seem less sinful. Can you understand that?"
"Not very well," Danny admitted.
-"Look, we're going to have sex together as though it was the most natural thing in the world."
"You and me?"
"Hell no! You and Meg ... me and Meg. We're going to give you a good enough life that she can see only good coming out of this. Do you understand that?"
"Yes," the boy said through clenched teeth. "Any questions?"
"I got one."
"What is it?"
"We're going to have all this good life and stuff ... while you hate my guts. Is that right?" Well, there it is, Don old boy ... as questions go, that's the biggy! he thought.
"No, Danny," he said, forcing himself to try to believe what he was saying. "I hope we can grow to love each other ... at least learn to like each other. I don't hate you. I even think I understand you a little. I hope you can learn to like and respect me."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Meg!" Don called as he opened the front door. Then he raised his fingers to his lips and glanced back at the boy.
"Let me do the talking. She had no idea of what I was going to do. "
"She don't know I'm going to live here?" Danny demanded. There was genuine alarm in his voice.
"She'll want you after she gets over the shock," Don assured him. "Just let me do the talking." They found Meg in the kitchen. She had the mixer going and was cooking up a storm.
"You look beautifully domestic," he said.
"Oh, Don, I'm so gl ... Danny!"
"I brought him home with me, Meg. He needs a home in the worst way."
"You mean ... he's going to live here?"
"Why not? Really, Meg, the boy needed to get away from that place. He has two sisters, both pregnant with no husbands or even boyfriends who will admit to fathering them. His mother is a good woman and very proud. She won't take welfare, but it means that she has to work all hours and can't be home to guide them. There's no father around. If I'd left Danny there, he'd have been in jail within a year or two. I just had to try to help. I promised the mother a little allowance if she'd let her son come watch over you. I told her you were terribly lonely and needed...."
"Don! You're leaving me. I knew it!"
Don quickly pulled her into his arms. Burrowing his face in her hair, he assured her that he had no place else to go.
"It's going to be the three of us, from here on," he promised.
She pulled away from him and stared first at him and then the boy. Then, as though an overwhelming load had just been lifted from her shoulders, she reached out and pulled Danny into a three-way hug.
"Never was there a more understanding man," she whimpered. "Danny, do you have any idea how wonderful he is?"
Danny shrugged and scuffed the floor, and he couldn't exactly think of what to say but the blush in his cheeks and the lack of a smart answer told Don and Meg that he did, in fact, agree.
"Put up your cooking, woman," Don ordered. "We're going into the bathroom, and we're going to undress each other, and we're going to have a long, very sexy shower. Then we are going to move on into the bedroom, climb up on your oversized bed, and we're going to have a long, very sexy orgy."
He could feel a shiver of excitement run through both of them at his suggestion. "Come on," he urged. "Let's do it now."
Meg switched off two burners and the oven. Danny was already sprinting down the hall. Don and Meg walked arm in arm and he was pleased to feel how relaxed she was.
"Thanks for going along with this," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't talk it over with you first. I really didn't know what I was going to say until I said it. Then the whole idea just flowed out."
"Are you sure you aren't going to mind?" she asked.
"Meg, it excites me, too, watching you with the boy. Just hearing the two of you together turns me on." They walked into the bedroom. "Come on, Danny," Don said. "Let's undress our beautiful Mama."
The boy grinned. "I'll start at the bottom and you can start at the top," he suggested. "We'll meet in the middle."
Danny dropped to the floor and untied Meg's shoes while Don unbuttoned her full-length hostess robe. As she stepped from her shoes, Don was lifting her gown away. She was left wearing only a pair of panties and a demi-brassiere.
"Look at her," Don exclaimed. "Isn't she sensational?"
"You mean the boobs?" Danny asked. "I dig on big boobs, but the rest of her bod ain't bad, either."
"Thanks, I think," snickered Meg.
Don unhooked her brassiere while Danny pulled down her panties. Her lush breasts surged forward and quivered a moment. Then the flattened nipples began to take shape, hardening with the cooler air and Meg's anticipation of excitement. Don ran his fingertips across her mounds, leaving a trail of goose flesh in his wake.
"Ohhhhhh," sighed Meg.
The boy was exploring, too. For the first time, he took a close look at a woman's love nest, and he found that the more he looked, the more he wanted to look.
All of Danny's sensual experience until this moment had been self-oriented, no matter who he was with or what he was doing. His phallus and the things he could do or have done to it was as far as his mind had been able to carry. Now he began to wonder where Meg's excitement came from and what areas of her snatch would feel the most. He touched her puffy, furred lips and heard her moan. Pleased, he touched again as his own excitement became intense.
"Easy, Danny," Don warned. "It's time for Meg and I to undress you."
The boy shot him a look filled with concern. "You ain't screwing me;" he said. "Not ever!"
"No, Danny," Don assured him. "I have no such urge, though I understand you deserve it from some of the smaller kids you've buggered."
Don again started with the shirt while Meg went to work on Danny's sneakers. It was a longer ordeal than it had been with Meg. His shoes were run down and his sox stiff. When Meg looked up and saw that the shirt was gone, she shivered. Don was standing behind the boy, his arms encircling him, and his hands were unbuttoning Danny's fly."
"Ahhhhh," she sighed.
The waistband came free and then the fly. Don peeled the pants away like he was skinning a banana. Then his hands slid inside the back to squeeze the boyish ass. Meg reached up and pulled the pants down over the skinny thighs.
Her breathing became labored the moment his rigid little fingerling appeared. For a moment she crouched there staring at it, unable to move. Then she glanced up at Don, embarrassed by her betrayal of emotion for the small, delectable appendage.
"Suck him," Don urged. "Let me see you take it into your mouth and love it a little."
Staring up at Don, Meg let her feverish lips come closer and closer to the rigid, tender flesh.
"Nnnnngh," she moaned when it touched her mouth. Then she closed her eyes and let her lips brush back and forth over the warm, pliant flesh.
She touched only the foreskin which was long enough to pucker over the end of his staff even when he had a hard-on as he did now. His long tongue slid out from between her lips and rooted into the hidden cockhead beneath. Reaching up, she took ahold of him and slowly skinned the wrapper of skin away from his feverish treasure.
"Ahhh!" gasped the boy as she sucked him in.
He drew in his gut deep and strained his small prod forward as Meg's head began to bob up and down his pole.
"Suck his balls, too, Meg," Don urged. "Take it all!"
"Hey, man, take it easy," the boy groaned. "I'm going to fuck off too fast as it is."
"You're young enough for seconds."
"As many times as I want it," the boy bragged, but it still came out a groan.
"Skim off the cream, Meg," Don hissed. "Slow him down enough to give him a little control. God, but you're good, Meg. I can almost feel you doing it to me."
She whimpered and one hand reached for his fly, but Don pushed her away.
"Danny first," he said. "Suck Danny first."
Don was so excited that he moved in to watch. Meg quickly unzipped his fly. Struggling inside the crotch of his pants, she managed to fish out his thick, hot cock. Then she was pulling at him and tugging to bring that shivering prick over to her.
And she took them both in her mouth at once!
"Jesus!" muttered Don.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" groaned the boy.
Reaching inside Don's pants again, she found his sack of nuts. Eagerly, she began to roll and rub them, her other hand doing the same thing to the small balls of the shivering boy.
Her tongue slid over first one cockhead and then the other, until Don's knees turned to rubber, and he had to lean against the wall. Danny, in turn, leaned against him.
It was coming too fast, his passion crowding in around him so rapidly that he couldn't get control of himself. It was even worse when he looked down at her. Her eyes were closed in voluptuous ecstasy, her hands working their long, slender fingers over them and the two cocks ... so extreme in their differences ... both jammed into her mouth.
"Suck it, Mama," groaned the boy. "Oh, sonofabitch, damn-it-all-to-hell, OHHHHHHHH!"
As Don watched, the shuddering boy belched up his load. Don could feel the cum jettison. Some of it landed on his own prod. With effort, he eased his cock out of her mouth and let her finish siphoning off the boy's load.
"Ahhhhh," she sighed as he pulled free.
She turned toward Don, as though ready to finish, him off, too, but he wouldn't let her get her hands on it. Moving quickly over to the far side of the room, he began to undress.
"We were going to shower together, remember?" he laughed shakily.
"I'm sorry. I ... "
"Sorry for what? Please don't be sorry for doing what I asked ... or for turning me on ... or for being beautiful and sexy and...." He walked back to her and pulled her to her feet. "You are forbidden to ever say you're sorry again. Is that understood?"
"I didn't realize I was ... I'm sor ... ooops! There I go again," she laughed.
He pulled her to her feet and held her, but when she reached for his aching pole, he had to pull her hand away.
"Little boys can take that sort of thing and bounce right back for more," he said. "I've got to make mine last a little longer.
"Danny, why don't you get the water running? Meg can get the towels, while I stand about and pant."
It was a revelation to see Danny grin. Gone was the sneering curl at the edge of the mouth and the sarcastic smirk in his eye. He was suddenly eager to please. He turned on the water and adjusted the controls half a dozen times before he was satisfied.
He jumped in, realized that he was not being a gentleman, and scampered back out. Don and Meg laughed. Then they all crowded in together.
"Here," said Meg, "I thought if we each had our own bar of soap we could lather each other up at the same time. I brought three washclothes, too!"
"We'll take the soap but you can toss the others away," Don told her. "I'd rather feel your hands on me than any rag."
"Me, too," Danny quickly agreed. "Mmmmmmm," purred Meg. "I see what you mean," as both man and boy began to lather her.
Her breasts attracted a great amount of attention. Don lathered one while Danny smoothed suds over the other. Even in the warm water, her nipples began to bunch with excitement.
Don placed suds on her pussy lips, too, massaging her so gently that she shivered all over.
"Don," she whispered. "Do something for me, please?"
"What?"
"Wash Danny. I want to know that you don't resent each other. I know you don't want to touch, but just washing each other ... there ... surely that wouldn't hurt anything."
Though he nodded his assent, Don was frowning and hesitant. It was Danny that first began.
"You feel funny," he laughed as he took Don's large cock in his hand. "Huh! Makes me feel kind of funny touching it."
Gently, carefully, he lathered the feverish pole, careful to skin it back and cleanse it with clear water around the edge of the head. Although it was twice the size of his own, he treated it ... cleaned it, and inspected it as if it were his own. Almost as an afterthought, he reached down and quickly lathered Don's balls.
"There, is that what you wanted, Mama?"
"Yes, Danny," she breathed. "Thank you."
Now Don got down on one knee and reached for the smaller prod. It was hard as steel. With the practiced fingers of a doctor, Don kept his touch as impersonal as he could. Memories of what his own pecker felt like when he was Danny's age now danced through his brain.
He could remember the first time somebody else touched it for him. It had been another boy, and the sensations he'd stirred in Don's boyish loins were so intense that Don was paralyzed with excitement. Every ounce of his being screamed at what he was doing, but he could not have stopped it if his life had depended on it.
The boy had come to spend the night. He'd laughed at Don when Don put on his pajamas. The boy said he and his whole family always slept in the nude. After some ribbing, Don had gone to bed bare, but he was scared half to death that his mother would pop into his room. They snickered and told dirty stories for some time before the other boy ... what was his name, anyway? Bob? Rob? Brad! That was it. Brad Evans ... anyway, Brad started in telling him about a game. He told Don that the guys held this cum contest to see who could get there the first. They jacked each other off. He kept telling how good it felt when this guy did it and how fast it went when another guy did it.
"There's this one guy though ... I can't even explain it. He sort of runs his fingers over you ... like this. See how it makes you jump? Then he slides it back, real slow and easy like ... like this ... and...."
"Ohhhhhhhh," Don had groaned as the sensations poured through him.
"Here, give me your hand. Put it here. Yeah. Now take ahold of mine and we'll have a race. Sure beats doing it to yourself, doesn't it?"
Don had not been able to answer. It was all too new and strange, and the feeling was the most potent sensation he'd ever felt in his life. Don lay there boxing the boy's meat while the boy boxed his. He didn't say a word through it all, and he won hands down. He'd had to go on pumping away at Brad's small dingus for another two or three minutes before his puffing friend shot off his load of jazz.
It was an insignificant thing to remember so vividly, but first sexual encounters usually are both unimaginative and unusually potent.
"What do you feel, Don?" Meg urged.
"I was just remembering what it was like to be twelve," Don admitted.
He rinsed the boy's equipment and then turned back to Meg.
"This is good for getting acquainted, but I think we'd all be happier in bed about now," he said.
"Yes," exclaimed the boy.
"Please," nodded Meg.
Danny turned off the shower while Don reached for the towels. They dried each other, then hurried into the bed. Danny stretched out, waiting for Meg to attack, but Don held her back.
"Danny, it's time you learned to give a little," he said. "This once, I think we should turn things around."
"How?" the boy asked.
"Meg is always kissing you where you like it. Have you ever done the same for her?"
"You mean...? God, I don't know. I fucked her once, but ... I guess I could try."
"Danny, you don't have to...." Meg began.
"Lay down, Meg," Don ordered.
Meg meekly obeyed.
"What are you going to do?" Danny asked.
"I told you we were going to turn it around this time," Don said.
"Oh, yes!" Meg exclaimed. "Yes!"
"You can kiss it ... or eat it ... or screw it," Don told the boy, "and when I'm through you can have yourself sucked if you like, but I get it first."
With that, he stretched out beside Meg with his cock close to her face. Reaching for it with both hands, she cupped it tenderly then moved in to press fluttery kisses all over his head. She pulled back the foreskin slowly, revealing only the parts she was ready to nibble on, and Don gripped the mattress with his hands, trying to hang on.
It was a dizzying sensation, so violently sensual that it threatened to blast him clear off the bed. He had a sense of falling, and the air rushing past him made it hard to breathe.
Danny lay there staring at Meg's pussy for a long moment. His first reaction to Don's suggestion was one of revulsion. God! He didn't want to stick his face in that! The more he looked, however, the less objectionable the idea became, until he decided that it really wouldn't hurt him to try. Twisting around, he pulled himself over her until he was half laying on her thighs. Then he leaned down close to her snatch and sniffed.
The smell was sweet and kind of sexy ... no, it was more than that! It was potently sensual for it burned into his brain, filling his head with lewd visions.
He stuck out his tongue and felt her puffy, feverish lips covered with downy fuzz. Lightly he ran his tongue over her, wondering that it didn't repel him at all anymore. With a shiver, he moved in the rest of the way, his lips touching home in an open-mouthed slobbering kiss.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" gasped Meg.
Her body shuddered with excitement and this gave Danny a sense of power that he had never felt before. He was thrilling her, playing with her emotions. It made him feel like God.
Meg had nibbled down Don's shaft all the way to the roots, and now she was working feverishly on his balls. Her mouth was open, the tongue lathing his fur until it was matted with her saliva.
With his head propped up on his hand, Don watched it all. He saw the boy's first gropping attempt to do what he'd been asked to do ... he saw the fever catch the child and transport him into a feverish state of ecstasy. But most of the time he watched Meg.
Even when she was lost in an erotic world of oralism, Meg was beautiful. Her graceful hands could not look gross as she fingered his balls. Thrill after thrill tingled through her body. He could see it in the blissful rapture of her expression.
She mouthed her way back up his stalk and then let his cockhead slip into her mouth. Even before she closed her lips around it, Don could feel the hot, wet excitement of her molten caress. Then he was enveloped in her, his cockhead wetly trapped by her rhythmically sucking tongue. A white-hot heat coursed through his body, searing his senses and inflaming his brain.-
"Daaaaaammmmmmmmmmmnn," he groaned. Sensations buffeted him and he rolled with the punches. When his arm became too shaky to support his head, he dropped back on the bed and closed his eyes, letting passion have its way with him. Its way was excruciatingly good!
"Nnnnngh!" Meg grunted ecstatically.
And the boy sucked on and on. When it was too sweet, Meg tore her lips from Don's rock-hard penis and cried out to the sucking boy. "Fuck me, Danny! Fuck me before it's too late!"
Her words reached his lust-crazed brain and he pulled instantly away. Then he was lunging at her, stabbing with frenzied thrusts even before his little cock had found its way home.
She reached down and took it. Stuffing it through the moist flanges of her pussy, she worked it down into her steaming cunt. Her steaming depth gripped him and her tender cunt-walls milked him until he was half-crazed with lust.
"Fuck off," Don roared to the boy. "Ohhhhhhhh shit, it's so good. Suck me, Meg. I'm almost there."
"Make him cummm, Mama," cried the boy.
Their sex was lusty and bold, not the tender sweet thing Don had intended, but it didn't matter. It was exciting ... exciting for them all. There would be a time for the other, but it wasn't now.
"OHHHHHHHHH! " wailed Don.
Meg gave his balls one final squeeze and then began siphoning off his load. His hot, steaming cum was eagerly swallowed as fast as he could belch it up.
He was so weak, but he couldn't let go. Panting heavily, he curled around to where I could watch the child stab his prick into the dark curly tangle of Meg's cunt.
She was working with him now, thrusting up her hips in a lewd spasmodic rhythm of pure sexuality. They pushed, then paused to grind and rub their passion flesh together. Danny stabbed his feverish fingerling into the soft clinging flesh of her vagina, and Meg's membranes clung to him like a million little gripping fingers.
"Oh, Mama, I'm so hot," the boy whimpered.
"Screw me, honey," she moaned. "Screw it in good and tight. "
It's going to be a hell of a life, thought Don. His cock was already beginning to swell again. Oh, well, so we fuck each other to death. It's not such a bad way to go.
All pretense of keeping a rhythm disintegrated as they reached the final feverish pitch of excitement. The boy humped raggedly, then rubbed and ground against Meg in a frenzy of lust. "DO IT!" cried Meg. "Now! NOW!"
"Ugh! Ugh! UGH!" he grunted.
His feverish little cock jiggled and bobbed inside of her and then he was there. His thick, white cum spurted into her steaming depths to trigger her own spectacular crest. Her passion exploded in her brain and her body simultaneously, quaking out through her limbs to actually curl her fingers and toes.
Never had Meg known such complete release. With Don to give her mature love and the child to fulfill her other needs, Meg was sure she would never have to go begging again.
