Members of the Harder Valley PTA--parents, teachers and even some of the pupils--met to solve sexual hangups as well as school problems. Fred Simmons, neophyte teacher, became a pupil as well as a teacher after one girl wore pubic-hair ribbons to class, and showed them surreptitiously. Fred's initiation into the valley's swinging society was not surprising in view of the observation made by Thomas J. B. Wilson, in his book. Wife swapping--A Complete 8-Year Survey of the Morals in North America: "Calculated estimates from professional statisticians now place the number of adult Americans who have in the past or are currently engaging in mate trading at more than five million couples!"
CHAPTER ONE
I was nervous on my first day as a young teacher conducting my first class in English Composition for sophomores in the Harder Valley Junior High. And with good reason. This was the opening day of my year's provisional contract with the Harder County Board of Education. I was on my own. Miss Wilson, a sexagenarian principal with the pinched face of a sour old maid, had warned me to be wary of the first sign of unruly conduct. "I will not tolerate any teacher who cannot maintain discipline in the classroom," she had said.
I could never have survived the first forty minutes of my opening lecture had it not been for the black-haired girl seated directly in front of the lectern on which I had placed my notes. She regarded me with such rapt attention that I found myself turning toward her for support whenever one of my choice bits of humor met with snickers, or the impudent smile on the face of one of the boys threatened a breach of an uneasy truce. A glance at the clock warned me I had but two minutes before the bell ended this worrisome session. As I started my concluding remarks with a plea for cooperation in the establishment of a meaningful relationship between teacher and students, I looked down at her with a smile of gratitude. Her face beamed a joyous response. Then, lifting her feet from the floor, she hooked her heels in the rung of her chair, slid forward on her seat, and spread her knees. I gaped at white thighs and a naked pussy! Clinging to the mat of black curly hair was a white ribbon tied in a bow!
The bell rang. Stuffing my notes and books into my attache case, I hurried from the room, careful to keep the satchel in both hands as a shield for my groin. I was glad to find no one in the teachers' lounge, and went into the men's washroom. Entering one of the cubicles, I set my case on the floor, removed my jacket, and lowered my trousers. Just in case Mr. Warren, the only other male teacher, should come in, he would think I was seated on regal business, and not in playful solitude. What should I do, I wondered, hoping the embarrassing swelling would go away before the bell rang for my next class? I certainly couldn't discuss it with Miss Wilson, nor with any of the women on the faculty. On the two occasions I had talked with Mr. Warren I had found him a sour old man in whom the juice of life had long since turned to bitter vinegar. A change in the seating arrangements was impossible. Seats were assigned in alphabetical order.
Nothing I had encountered in my four years of undergraduate work at Iowa State Teachers College had prepared me for such completely amoral behavior by a student in the classroom. But then, an Iowa faculty committee on programs could not be expected to foresee such problems as might arise only in a California school. The bell rang for the next class. Replacing my now flaccid appendage within the confines of shorts, I zipped up my trousers. If this angelic-looking young Linda Downs should repeat her devilish performance, I decided, there was only one thing I should do-talk to her mother.
At the end of my first day, I was thoroughly unnerved. Despite the brilliance of a sunny September afternoon, I was unable to shake the gloomy fear of becoming involved in a mess of depravity. The five-mile drive up in the mountains to the cabin I had rented for the school year from Miss Wilson failed to lift my spirits with its scenic beauty. Why hadn't I told her what had happened, no matter how embarrassing it would have been? She had stopped me as I was leaving. "Everything go all right today, Mister Simmons?" she had asked. "No problems?" I came near blurting out the shameful story when Mr. Warren passed, nodding a surly farewell. "Fine. No problems," I had replied, and turned away. "I'll be out to see how you're getting along this week end, Mister Simmons," she called after me. "Okay," I'd answered, "I'll be looking for you."
I pulled up in front of the one-room cabin, and sat in the car for a long moment. I had had my chance to file notice of a potentially explosive situation, and had failed to do so. Whatever developed hereafter, I would have to handle-or bury--by myself.
The next morning's class proceeded smoothly. I choked off an incipient revolt by one of the boys in the back of the room with a promptness that surprised me, and startled the other students, by ordering the offender out of class and into the principal's office. Linda Downs sat silent and attentive, making no moves until the last few moments before the bell rang. Then, with a wide grin of forewarning, she repeated her action of spreading her knees, and exposing her thighs and pussy. This time, the ribbon bow was a pale blue. Concluding my lecture, I nodded to her, holding up my finger to indicate I wished to talk to her.
"I don't know what you're trying to do, young lady," I said as soon as the rest of the students had left the room, "but I warn you... "
"Why, Mister Simmons. What do you mean?" Her face made a pretense of innocence and her eyes gleamed with amusement.
"The shameless exhibition of... what you did yesterday and again today... " She glanced at the door to make sure no one else was present, then slipped her right hand up under her dress. "Oh, my goodness, Mister Simmons. I forgot to wear my panties again. You didn't really see anything, did you?"
I flushed angrily. She was making a fool of me.
"You repeat that performance tomorrow and I'll take you home and have a talk with your mother."
She chuckled. "Oh, will you? Why not this afternoon, Mister Simmons? Mother would be delighted. She's so anxious to meet you."
I gulped. Oh God! I thought, what am I getting into? "That's a promise, then, Mister Simmons? Tomorrow night for sure?"
I was already at the door. I didn't stop. On the next day, Wednesday, and the following day, Linda Downs repeated her performance-a yellow bow, then a pink one. Apparently she had told no one else in the class what she was doing, for there was no reaction from any of the other students. Each day I had rushed out of the room as soon as the bell rang, seeking to avoid a confrontation with Linda, who sought to stop me as I fled.
By Friday morning I was desperate. Her obvious pleasure at the prospect of my confronting her mother with the facts could mean only one of two things: either she was a compulsive exhibitionist who would enjoy being punished; or she had been instructed by her mother to entrap me into a meeting. In either case, I had had enough. I wanted at all costs to avoid ensnarement in any situation that could lead to my being charged with moral turpitude-an ineradicable blemish on a teacher's record. If necessary, I would lay the whole story before Miss Wilson, should Linda persist.
As I passed the principal's office, Miss Jones called to me. "Miss Wilson would like to see you for a moment, Mister Simmons."
I choked on the words. "What about, do you know?"
She shook her head. "Go right in."
"Good morning, Mister Simmons." The slight part of her thin lips was meant as a friendly smile, I guessed. "The weatherman promises a lovely week end."
"Yes." I waited, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Had one of the students noticed anything in class? Had Linda...
"My sister's gone for the next six months, you know."
"Yes?" The bell rang for the first class.
"I'd like to spend the week end up there, but my car is in the garage for a major overhaul... "
"I'd be glad to drive you... "
"Oh, thanks. I'll see you at two this afternoon. Better hurry." She brought up another frozen smile from the deep-freeze within her. "A tardy teacher... "
"Yes, Miss Wilson."
* * *
All through the first session, I kept a wary eye on Linda Downs. Her demure expression was as false a front as a padded bra. What color would the ribbon be today? Although firmly determined not to look, I found my glance swivel back to her as she raised her feet, and hooked her heels in the rung of her chair. Smiling up at me, she spread her knees. There was no ribbon decorating her pussy hair. Instead, on the inside of her right thigh, in large red lipstick letters was the exclamation: MMM! While I gaped, she swung her left leg out in the aisle. On the inside of that thigh, in equally large letters was the word: GOOD!
The bell rang. I gathered my books and papers, stuffing them into my attache case slowly. This settled it. The girl was obviously in need of psychiatric help. If her parents knew of this, and condoned it, they probably were in need of counseling also. I would talk to Miss Wilson this afternoon about her. On closing my brief case, I found the classroom empty.
I went through the rest of the school day in good spirits. My decision to tell Miss Wilson the facts had relieved all the tension which this girl's crazy antics had built within me. The sex problems of a fifteen-year-old girl were not within the province of an inexperienced male teacher.
A few minutes after the two o'clock bell. I stopped at the principal's office. Miss Wilson was waiting. One glance at her prim, unsmiling face was enough to shake my resolve. On the way to my car, I kept telling myself to spill the whole story regardless of the indelicate details. As I held the front door open for her, she glanced at the bedding and blankets piled on the floor in back of the front seat. "You do your own laundry, Mister Simmons?"
"No." I slammed the door after she had seated herself. "I'm going to drop them off at the cleaners this afternoon." I started the engine. Miss Wilson sat staring straight ahead, leaning against the door. I reached across her to snap the lock, touching her for a moment. She recoiled from the contact. "I'm sorry." This woman is all heart, I thought.
I stopped for the light at Main Street. "Mister Simmons, would you mind going by the bus station. I have a friend who is going to spend the week end with me."
"Not at all." Silently I cursed her and all her friends. How was I ever going to tell her about Linda Downs? I switched on the turn signal, then looked up in the rear-view mirror. Christ Almighty! Peering back at me was the grinning face of Linda, peeking above the top of the seat!
"Look out!" Miss Wilson shouted.
I managed to avoid a collision with an inch to spare. The driver of the other car shouted an obscenity that brought a flush to Miss Wilson's face.
"I haven't had an accident in over forty years of driving," she said. "I hope we get there this afternoon. Turn left at the next corner."
Pulling in at the curb in front of the bus station, I cast a nervous glance at the rear seat. Linda was now hidden by the pile of bedding.
"There she is," Miss Wilson said. "She can sit in the back."
I jumped out. "Oh no, I can't have her do that. There's plenty of room up front." I dashed around the car, reaching the passenger side as a petite, attractive woman approached, an overnight bag clutched in her right hand. "Hello," I said, taking her luggage. "I'm Fred Simmons."
"Hi! I'm Bess Coffey." In the bright afternoon sun, streaks of gray glinted in her short black hair, and wrinkles showed at the corners of her sparkling blue eyes.
I opened the back door and set her bag on the back seat. "Let's sit up in front," I said as she took a step forward. "I have dirty bedding on the floor of the back." Miss Wilson opened the door and got out.
"You sit in the middle, Bess."
As we turned onto the highway leaving town, Miss Coffey asked, "How do you like teaching, Mister Simmons?"
"Fine."
"I hope you find our little monsters aren't too much for you. Alice tells me that the kids today are really a problem."
"Some of them are, I guess. So far... "
"They're all little devils if you give them half a chance." Out of the corner of my eye I saw her hand drop lightly on Miss Coffey's knee. "Bess, honey, are you sure you didn't leave anything on the stove?"
Miss Coffey chuckled. "She'll never let me forget I left the gas burning once. When we got home an hour later, the coffee pot had a hole in the bottom of it. That was... what, Alice? Ten, eleven years ago, wasn't it?"
During the five-mile drive along the highway, the two women chatted while I kept an uneasy check on the rear seat of the car. Miss Wilson's hand remained on Miss Coffey's knee, as light and unconsciously possessive as a boy's fingers on a favored toy.
"I think Mister Simmons will probably be with us for a long time," Miss Wilson said, breaking silence. "He got through his first week with no problems of discipline. That to me is the real test of a teacher today." She turned her head toward me. "If you don't mind, let's stop by your cabin. I should have been out here before you moved in to check and make sure you had everything you needed."
"Really, that won't be necessary." There hadn't been a sound or the slightest movement in back of us. I breathed easier.
"I'd like to see it again. It's been over a year since Alice and I were out here."
"Okay." I turned onto the gravel road, drove half a mile, and swung sharply into the narrow drive leading up to the cabin. A dense growth of underbrush lined the drive on both sides. I stopped before the steps leading up to the porch, got out, and walked around to the other side of the car. Standing with my back to the window of the rear door, I offered a hand to each of them, urging them forward toward the steps. I put the key in the lock, and stepped back.
"What delightful memories this brings back," Miss Coffey said as she crossed the threshold. "Alice, I recall so clearly the day you bought this place."
"Mister Simmons!"
"Yes?" I turned away from the open doorway where I had been standing to keep an eye on the back door of the car.
"Have any trouble with the well?"
"No."
"Do the squirrels still scamper all over the roof at night?" Miss Coffey asked.
"Yes." Then the dull thud of a car door being closed sounded like a distant clap of thunder before a storm.
"What's that?" Miss Wilson swung around nervously.
"Maybe someone's hunting. It sounded like a shotgun," I said. "I'll take a look."
I leaped off the porch, and dashed to the car. Opening the door, I whispered, "Linda!" There was no answer. I lifted the top blanket, felt under the bedding beneath. She had gone. I closed the door softly, muttering, "Damn you, you little bitch!"
By the time I had reached the top step, the two women came out. "I see the refrigerator's working." Miss Wilson said. "You have plenty of blankets? It begins to get cold late in September."
"I'm fine," I said, holding the car door open for them.
"It must be lonely up here all by yourself."
"I like solitude, Miss Coffey. I couldn't find anything in town but a furnished room with a bath down the hall. I'm grateful that Miss Wilson made this place available to me."
* * *
The small town of Mountain Springs was less than two miles east. I parked in the driveway of a large two-story frame house. Miss Wilson thanked me, and asked if I could pick them up at seven-thirty Monday morning. She mounted the steps to the porch as I took the bag off the back seat.
"I'll take it," Miss Coffey said. She held out her hand for the bag, and set it down, then regarded me closely for a long moment. "Thanks so much." Her handclasp was firm. "You remind me so much of someone I knew. That was long ago." She still held my hand. "He had soft, brown eyes like yours, and brown, wavy hair... " Her eyes glistened. She dropped my hand, bent over to lift her bag. "So long ago... "
* * *
I drove slowly back to the cabin, dreading the confrontation with this sex-obsessed little fiend. Whatever fantasies had heated her mind this past week were now certain to burst into hellish reality. I felt trapped. I couldn't just go away and leave her out here alone. If I called any one to help, I was bound to be smeared with scandalous gossip. The back of my shirt was clammy and my hands sweaty on the wheel as I turned into the graveled driveway. Stopping in front of the cabin, I blew the horn, then opened the window and shouted, "LINDA! LINDA!" I blew three short blasts. After waiting through several minutes of silence, I left the car, and mounted the steps. The door was unlocked. I swung it open, and stood at the threshold. "Linda!" My gaze swept over the room quickly. The big brass bed stood against the wall to my left, empty. The sofa against the opposite wall was unoccupied. Perhaps she was still outside, hidden somewhere, waiting to be sure I had brought no one with me. I closed the door, and walked over to a table by the window, avoiding the hassock in front of the lounge chair. The window shade was lowered against the morning sun, just as I had left it. I had the cord in hand, about to raise the shade, when she spoke. "Hi! I've been waiting."
I turned. The shade flew up with a loud crack. She stood in the bathroom doorway. I didn't have to peek this time. She was completely naked. "My God!" I cried, and swung around in a frantic attempt to reach the front door. I stumbled over the hassock and fell to the floor with a thud that partially stunned me.
With a loud squeal, she dashed across the room and flung herself on top of me. "Are you hurt? My goodness! You took an awful spill."
"Let me up, for God's sake!"
"You're all right." Her body was spread above me, her heels dug in under my knees. "My! You're clumsy." Her breath was hot to my cheek.
"Damn it! Get off me." I tried to grasp her under her arms, but she wriggled, and. I found my hands filled with the flesh of firm young breasts.
"Kiss me."
"No. Stop it." I could feel her pubes grinding against my genitals, and could sense the swelling of aroused maleness.
"Don't you like girls?" She pulled her head back to look searchingly at me.
"Sure I do. When they're grown up enough to... " ^ Her lips mashed down on mine while her hand tugged at my hair to hold my head steady. Her tongue flicked at my lips, stabbed stiffly against my clenched teeth. Try as I might, I could not control my cock; it struggled at the constricting shorts and slacks to throb against her rotating pubic mat.
She bit lightly at my ear. "You don't think I'm grown up enough, do you? I'm gonna show you things you probably never knew about. Come on, take your clothes off. You been peeking at mine all week. I want a good look at yours."
"Linda. Look at me." She held still for an instant. "You want to see me lose my job?"
She frowned. "Oh no! We had a grumpy old man last year... all the kids like you... "
"You know what they do to teachers who get involved with young girls... "
"Who's gonna tell 'em? Not me." Her hand stole between our bellies, fumbling for my zipper.
"They always find out. I don't want any trouble... "
"No trouble. You got any rubbers?"
"No." I tried to grab her hand as it slid my zipper open. My knuckles felt the pressure of her wet hairy pussy.
"Mm! That's okay." She began to rotate her groin against the back of my hand. "We'll have to do it sixty-nine. Do you like that?"
"Stop it, damn it! You're just a child." My mind was rejecting her while my cock leaped to life as her hand closed around it.
I closed my eyes. ORAL SEX! I had read about it in the marriage manual I'd bought just before coming out to Harder Valley. I had had only a few sexual experiences in my life-and only one unhappy episode of being fellated. I had taken a co-ed to a sophomore dance. She got drunk. I tried to lay her in the back of the car, but she insisted on going down on it. Just as I started to come, she spit my cock out, and I blew all over my only good pair of slacks. Ugh!
I suddenly realized Linda was no longer stretched out on top of me. I opened my eyes to find her sprawled between my legs, one hand holding my stiff cock, and the other tugging my opened slacks down over my hips. "What are you doing?"
"Eating it." She smiled up at me happily, then opened her lips to nibble at the tender crown. "Lie back and take it easy for a while. You'll like it. You'll see."
I already liked it. Her tongue flicked around the underside of it like a hummingbird sipping at a full-blown bloom. An image of the grim, sour visage of Miss Wilson came to mind, followed by remembrance of the touch of her loving hand on Miss Coffey's knee. "I like that, Linda." No one could accuse me of teaching this girl any tricks. She was already obviously an expert by virtue of long practice. I lifted my hips to offer more of this joystick to her boggling mouth. I was on fire. Sweat poured down my face, onto my throat. Her suckling seemed to be drawing eddies and streams of joy from every part of me, swirling through every nerve and tissue to swell into a flood of delight that surged into my genitals. Frantically, I reached for a handkerchief in my back pocket, brought it out to toss onto my belly. "I'm coming! Linda! Linda!" I trembled as successive surges of liquid delight pounded up to explode in geysers within her warm, moist, sucking mouth. She refused to release my shriveled cock until the last drop of juice had been drawn off. "There's a handkerchief there, Linda."
"What's that for?" She giggled. "I like the taste of it." She scrambled up to lie beside me. "You should have taken your clothes off. I could have driven you wild with a tongue-bath."
"A what?"
She raised up on an elbow to look at me, her brows lifted in disbelief. "Hey!" she exclaimed, "you're not kidding! Boy! Have I got a lot to teach you." She rose, and held out a hand. "Come on. Get undressed. Now you gotta do me. We just have time for one today."
I stripped and stood beside the bed, studying the slim lines of her girlish figure. Her breasts were firm and fully formed, the small coral centers no larger than a quarter, her hips narrow as a boy's. But the pubic mound was thickly matted with black, curly hair that glistened with her juices. "Come on, love me, love me all over."
I slipped in beside her, nuzzling into her breasts, nibbling at her throat, tonguing in and around her ears. "Ooh! I like that. More." Her flesh was as tender and tasty as spring lamb. Wild with a crazy, wanton passion, my lips suckled and nibbled at her breasts, paused at each one as her hand cupped them alternately up into my hungry mouth.
"Man! That's the most!" She wriggled happily. "Oh! Love it, kiss it, bite it, eat it! More, more, more!"
My face was down at her belly, lips and tongue leaving a wet trail on her skin. I could smell the scent of her pussy, feel the thresh and throb of her legs as she moved with restless delight. Her hands pressed down on the top of my head, urging me onward. The scratchy itch of her pubic hair tickled my chin, then my lips were in it. I drew my head back. What was I doing? The closest my face had ever been to a woman's genitals was the time Cathy and I had strolled in the woods, found a quiet shady spot, and we had rested with my head in her lap. But she had been fully dressed. Besides, she was my fiancee.
"What's the matter? Don't stop now. I'm so hot!" She swung one leg under me to urge me into a prone position between her thighs. "Right there. Put your tongue in here." The tips of her fingers spread the hairy lips at the top of her slit to expose moist, tender skin. This was the joy button I'd read about, I thought. I lowered my face. She raised her hips. My tongue touched the wet tissues, and she groaned. "That's it! Ooh! Love it!" The moisture was slick and slightly salty, with a strange exciting odor. I made little circles in the small groove with the tip of my tongue, felt the small bud of hardened flesh spasm. She drew her legs up in the air, then opened them in a wide V.
"Put this pillow under my ass," she whispered, her voice raspy. "Now, dig your nose into it." Close-up, I studied the hairy crack, dark and glistening, the swollen labia, a slash of deep red flesh opening up in a round hole at the bottom from which dripped clear crystal liquid. Below that, the tight pucker of her anus twitched in recurrent spasms. Lightly, I ran my tongue up one side of the slash, then down the other, laving the moisture as fast as it appeared.
Around the small, circled opening of her vagina my lips worked before I plunged my tongue inside. Her legs came down to clamp around my ears, pinning my face deep in her sopping crack. I could dimly hear her moans, like the crying of a lost child off in the distance. Suddenly she stiffened, raising her buttocks, holding herself immobile for an instant, then, crying out, she clutched the hair of my head to snug my face into the smothering wetness while her hips rolled and pitched wildly.
Unable to breathe, I rode out the storm until the gradual subsidence of the violence within her brought a peaceful calm. Her legs slid off my shoulders, and she lay inert, her eyes closed, her chest heaving with deep inhalations. I rose to my knees, glancing down at her relaxed face with its quiet smile. So! Cunnilingus! That's what the textbooks called it. Cuntlapping was the gutter term for it. I smiled happily. Maybe I could come up with a lovelier name for such a perfectly delightful pastime.
CHAPTER TWO
Euphoria faded quickly as I led Linda out to the car. As we drove off, I glanced at her, relaxed and at ease, no longer the passionate female adept at every phase of erotic love-making, but an immature teen-aged girl not yet in the full bloom of womanhood. Dusk had settled over the land. Thank God, I thought, it will be dark when we enter town, with little likelihood that anyone would recognize my car or Linda riding with me.
"Good heavens, Linda, what are you going to tell your mother?"
She chuckled. "I told her I'd be late today. Don't worry. She won't have dinner until seven-thirty tonight."
"But what will you tell her? I can't think of a thing. Could I let you out a block away? You could say you went... "
"Oh no. You take me up to the house." She turned to smile reassuringly. "Mother will want to meet you. She won't ask any questions. Don't worry," At least, I thought, as I turned into her driveway, her mother is a widow. I won't have to face an irate father. The house was on a corner lot, with an unkempt lawn of dry devil grass, and a row of oleanders across the front. Linda was out of the car before it had stopped, and skipped happily up to the door. I sat for a moment, debating whether to take off immediately, or stay and face whatever music a worried mother might want to play. Linda turned, and motioned me to come. "Mom!" I opened the car door, closing it quietly after me. "We're home, Mom!"
A slender woman, half a head taller than Linda, stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips, a white apron around her waist. She extended her hand. "Good evening, Mister Simmons. So glad you could come."
"I'm sorry we're so late. I had intended to get Linda home long before this, but you see... "
"It's all right. Linda told me she'd be home with you by seven-thirty. You still have a few minutes leeway. Please come in."
I stood in the small living room, awkwardly awaiting the next gambit of this odd mother-daughter team. She seated herself on the sofa. "Please sit down, Mister Simmons." Linda excused herself, and left the room.
I sat on the edge of a straight-backed chair. "I owe you an explanation, Missus Downs. I had no idea the time had passed so quickly."
"Forget it, please. Linda is free to go and come as she pleases. She knows the only thing I will not tolerate is getting mixed up with drugs--or alcohol. I enjoy life. I want her to do the same. She knows how to take care of herself. And she tells me where she's going... and with whom. That's all I demand of her."
"Well," I said, then fumbled for some words to add. "She's quite a young lady."
"Yes, she is. I hope you're hungry, Mister Simmons."
"Oh, I couldn't... I must be getting back." She frowned. "But Linda said she'd bring you home to dinner. I have three lovely steaks, the potatoes will be done in ten minutes, the salad's made... " The dinner was delicious. I was surprised to find that a faint scent of pussy lingered in my nostrils despite the elaborate soaping I had given myself in the shower. It gave added zest to the tasty food. An ease of conversation, and no questions as to our activities this afternoon gradually broke down the fearful tension in my mind.
I learned that Florence's husband had been killed in an auto accident when Linda was only five, and that Florence was employed as secretary to one of the senior partners in the largest law firm in Harder Valley, Bourdet and Colpitts. "I've been with Mister Colpitts ever since I finished secretarial school sixteen years ago." She put a hand to her mouth, and laughed. "There, Mister Simmons, I gave my age away."
"Oh mother! You don't look a day over twenty-three, does she?"
"Linda, that was my line." I pushed back from the table. "I'm full. I can't remember when I've enjoyed a meal so much."
"Why don't you two go for a ride?" Linda rose and started to clear the table. "I'll do the dishes, Mom." She turned toward me. "Mister Simmons, your cabin must be beautiful in the moonlight. I'm sure mom would enjoy the fresh air. She doesn't get out very much."
I could do no less than make an offer, although I was very tired. "How about it, Florence?"
"I'd like that. Linda, I'd be glad to help."
"No. You two go ahead. Have fun. This is Friday night so you don't have a seven o'clock alarm in the morning. I'm going to bed as soon as I finish up in the kitchen."
There was little traffic on the highway. In the bright moonlight, the young pines stood straight and tall, their needled branches sifting soft shadows beneath them. Florence slid down in her seat, stretching her long, shapely legs out before her. Her short skirt revealed a tempting view of nylon-clad thighs that roused my interest.
"Is this open window too much for you?"
"Goodness, no. I've been shut up all week, both at home and the office." She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. I couldn't help but note the startling resemblance Linda bore to her. "How do you like our town?"
"Very much."
"By the way, I hope you get to meet some of the members of the PTA. I'm very active in the group."
"I will, I'm sure." I remembered suddenly that I hadn't made the bed at the cabin. And the bath towels would be wet. God! I couldn't bring her out there tonight. "Where would you like to go? Any ideas?"
"Exactly where we started out to go. I can't think of any place I'd rather see tonight than a cabin in the woods with this full, romantic moon. Do you have anything to drink at home?"
"A six pack of beer is all. That's all I ever drink."
"Good. I like beer."
Moonlight gleamed in reflection from the cabin windows as we turned into the gravel drive. "The place is a mess," I said, trying to prepare her for what she would shortly see.
She laughed. "Who cares?" She stepped out of the car, and inhaled deeply. "What a beautiful place! I bet you hate to leave it every morning to spend the day with our little brats."
"They're not all like that, thank God!" I gave her a hand up the steps, unlocked the door, and swung it open. "One moment, I'll find the lamp switch."
"No, not yet. Let me enjoy the moonlight." She stood before the window, staring out at the rolling hills bathed in the soft, silver glow. I stood beside her, inhaling the fragrance of her perfume. She pressed against me slightly. "Fred, can you find your way to the beer cellar in the dark?"
"Coming up, two beers."
When I returned with beer and glasses, she was seated in the big lounge chair, her face and figure silhouetted by moonlight.
"I know I'm in your favorite chair. Care to try to dispossess me?"
"No, not until I've had at least two beers." I set the try on the table, poured the beer. "You can't relax in that chair unless you put your feet up on this hassock." I sank to the floor, my face touching her knees. "A votre sante."
"Salud."
"That was a wonderful dinner." I took a gulp of my beer, let my face touch her knee.
"I'm so glad you came."
I took another long draught of beer, pressed my cheek to her leg, this time a few inches above her knee. The nylon was smooth and exciting. I turned my face a bit, far enough to enable my lips to nibble lightly. The damned beer was in the way. "I'm sorry. Hope I didn't stain your nylons."
Her hand rested on my head, then drifted away somewhere. "Don't worry about it. I have to wash these pantyhose tonight anyway."
I could feel my cock swelling up like a pouter pigeon. My lips planted a warm wet kiss on her thigh. I felt her muscle quiver in response. "Want another beer?"
"I've had enough for now." Her hand was back on the side of my head, the fingers circling my ear.
"I'll set the glass on the table."
"Never mind. I'll put it on the floor." She leaned to her right. My lips slid up the outside of her thigh as it pressed against my face. I got to my knees, set my glass on the floor.
"You have lovely legs," I whispered. I brushed my lips down past her knee, onto her calf, her ankle. Lifting her foot, I put it out to my right side, pushed the hassock aside. My lips found the pulse in her ankle, followed it slowly up the inside of her calf. She slid forward slightly as my mouth moved up over her knee and onto the inside of her thigh. Again I felt her fingers feather across my scalp. My hands were under her buttocks pulling her forward. She was breathing heavily. I could almost taste the rich fragrance of her pussy as my lips moved closer, closer until my mouth touched the mound of her pubic hair. Her gluteal muscles were alive and working, and the fingers of both hands outlined the contour of my ears. "Oh, Fred! Oh!" The nylon of her crotch was wet and gluey, the short sharp hairs giving it the texture of a sopping, fine-wire pad. As I tugged at the waistband, she raised her hips, and I felt the elastic slide down across her buttocks. "Wait. Let me." I knelt upright, leaned back to give her room to strip off her pantyhose, then dove back to place my lips over her mound. She had responded to the urging of my hands, and now lay with her hips at the edge of the seat, her legs thrown over the arms. I buried my face in her cuntal slit, suckling, tonguing, nibbling at the tender, soaking tissues, my lips finding her joy button. Her buttocks rolled and bucked, thrusting her slit up closer to my face, while her hands tugged at my hair to snug me tighter to her. "Oh, I'm coming! Oh, Fred!" Her thighs clamped my head in a fleshy vise, then froze momentarily, before she began to toss and turn and buck. I fought for breath for a few moments, then felt the wild motions die away. She lay limp and spent while I lapped up the overflow of her juices. For several minutes she remained motionless. Then, I felt her fingers trail across my forehead and cheeks. "Oh, Fred, darling! How I needed that!" I kissed her mound and her belly. She pulled my face up, leaned down to meet it. "Kiss me." Her lips opened over mine, her tongue lapping at the slick of her juices on my chin and cheeks. "I've never enjoyed anyone doing that like I did you, darling. Who taught you to do such a good job?"
I laughed. "Florence, honey, anything I enjoy doing, I try to do my best." I stood up. "Come on, baby. Let's get our clothes off."
She lay in a pool of light cast by a reading lamp attached to the bedpost. I stood staring down at her, enthralled by the stretch of her nakedness, the smooth flow of soft, white flesh and the glistening black bush of curly hair. Her breasts were large, firm, and fully matured, with hard nubbins of pink nipples uprisen from the center of coral circles. A man could suckle teats like these for a week and not have enough, I thought. Her gaze was fixed on my penis, thick and rigid.
"Ooh! He looks big and brutal!" Stretching out her hand, she trailed fingernails down my belly, into my pubic hair and under my scrotum. "Let me kiss him!" She leaned toward me, her tongue-tip catching the liquid crystal thread and following it up to its source. Nibbling down the underside of the shaft, she nosed into the area around its base, sniffing and teething at the hair. "I love this male scent," she whispered, her breath warm and caressing. Her lips worked back up to the swollen crown, then opened to engorge it. The tender, sensitive skin felt as though it were in a Jacuzzi bath with her tongue swirling around the underside of the bulbous head.
"Keep it up," I said, "and I'll come in less than a minute."
She dropped her head back on the pillow. "Oh no, I want that later. Right now, I want him in me."
Inside, she was warm, moist, and tight, with muscles that clutched my cock like a farmer's fingers on a cow's teat. After the first few moments, we achieved a perfect synchronism of thrust and withdrawal, with a rhythmic background of moans and wet sucking sounds from cuntal lips. I didn't last long. Her internal musculature seemed to be drawing currents of delight from every nerve of my body down into my genitals, building a tremendous charge that threatened to ignite any moment. "Hey, baby! I'm almost there," I murmured. I was pounding it into her, my asscheeks feeling the spurs of her heels.
"I'm coming... I'm coming!" she moaned. "Bury it deep, deep, deep... " Like rockets blasting off in quick succession, charges exploded within me, surging past my prostate, up the pulsing channel of my shaft to spurt streams of rapture within her. With one hand under her ass, I could feel the spasms of her wild release matching every one of mine. I kissed and fondled her breasts as my cock shriveled in the warmth and wetness of her vagina. Every sinew of her body seemed as flaccid as my spent penis. I rolled off of her, and laid my head on her shoulder. The silence of the night enfolded us in peace. I slept.
I had an amusing dream, in full color. A calico kitten frolicked over my bare chest, its soft padded feet tickling my thews into spasms. I watched it grin up at me, its amber eyes aglow, as it teased my nipples with its furry tongue. I purred encouragement, reached down to stroke its fur.
"Would you rather sleep, Fred?"
I opened my eyes. "Hell, no! I was enjoying a pleasant dream. Don't stop. This is far more delightful."
Her lips nibbled up my throat, around my ears, over my eyes, my cheeks, making a moist tingling trail. Down into the hollows of my shoulders, around the edges of pectoral muscles and across hardened little nubbins her tongue brushed broad strokes of vibrant joy. As if guided by delicate instruments, her lips homed in on every nerve beneath the flesh of my chest and belly, eliciting a joyous response. Her nose in the hair at the base of my risen cock, she paused and sniffed, then chuckled. "I can smell puss juice on this Tom." Spreading my legs, she kissed the hairy area on the inside of my thigh, licked down one leg to the ankle, and up the other. "Turn over." I rolled over on my belly. She straddled me. Her asscheeks felt warm on the small of my back, and her pussy hair slick and gluey to my skin.
"What do you call this?" I asked, raising my face off the pillow.
"Like it?"
"Mm! You can keep this up all night."
"It's a tongue-bath. You can give me one later, if you're up to it. It drives me crazy."
I could understand why. I was already half-crazy and she was nowhere near the hard meat that stretched its stiff bulk up beyond my navel. With her tongue swirling wet strokes around my shoulders, and her sopping cuntal brush titillating the skin of my lower back, I was as ready as a bridegroom carrying his mate across the threshold. "Slow down, baby! There won't be a drop left when you get to it." She giggled happily. She covered every square inch of me down to my buttocks. Placing her knees between my legs, she leaned over to bite and nibble all around both asscheeks, then tongued into my crack.
"Put a pillow under your belly, and raise your ass," she said. "Good!" Her fingers tugged my cheeks apart. Her warm, excited breath blew against the soft skin like the touch of a feather as her tongue laved down the center. My anus twitched as her lips and tongue circled the tight ring. I raised my hips to expose more of this sensitive area to her mouth and tongue. Never had I even heard of this weird but rousing practice. "Roll over." I lifted one leg and swung it in front of her.
"I should save some of this for tomorrow night." She lay between my thighs, her face nuzzled into my scrotum. "But I'm hungry for it right now."
"What's doing tomorrow night?"
"You're coming to my house. I'll tell you all about it later." With tongue and lips licking and nibbling, she covered my scrotum and the perineal area beneath, and the tender flesh inside my thighs before her mouth suckled up the underside of my throbbing cock. "Oh, what a gorgeous big piece of manly meat! How the girls are going to fight over it."
I didn't have time nor the inclination to ponder what she meant. The head of my cock was in her warm, moist mouth, her tongue swirling around the coronal ridge, and her thumb probing at my anus. As I felt it pop into my rectum, I shivered. "I can't hold it, honey. I'm coming. OH!" I thought my swollen crown was stuffed into the nozzle of a vacuum hose as she sucked wildly. I moaned, stiffened for an instant, then felt my anal ring clutch her thumb as the hot surges of fluid delight pounded up from my perineum, into my penile canal, to jet explosively into her suckling mouth.
Exhausted, I lay back while she stretched out beside me. Neither of us spoke for several minutes. The question I had not asked while poised at the brink of blast-off came back to mind. I put my arm around her shoulder. "What's with this business of the girls, and a party at your house tomorrow night?"
She turned sidewise, her teats resting on my chest. "You'll love it." Her hand trailed over my belly. "I'll be proud of you, and of this." Her fingers fondled my limp penis. "It's a swap party. You have them back in Iowa, don't you?"
"I never heard of one till I came out to California. I'd never get mixed up in any shenanigans like that."
She sat up, turned to face me. "You do believe in freedom of sexual expression?" She frowned. "After all... "
"Screwing and loving some one you like is one thing, but... "
"Exactly. You see, we don't have anyone in our little group you wouldn't enjoy loving and screwing. 'Don't knock it till you've tried it.' "
"I'm a school teacher. I wouldn't dare."
She tweaked my nose. "Honey, are you any better than one of the leading lawyers in town? Or a member of the School Board?"
"No!"
"Yes, besides, it's taken me three months to find a partner. Nobody's allowed to attend as a single."
"How many couples are there?"
"Four, including you and me."
"What happened to your former partner?"
"His company transferred him out of town." She kissed me, then broke into loud laughter. "Fred, honey, you should have seen him. Fairly handsome, but when he stripped, he had a pimple-sized prick that made me think I was sucking my thumb."
"I'll think about it. Meanwhile, if you can stand a little excitement, I'd like to go all over you like you did me."
She rolled over on her back. "I thought you'd never ask."
I tried to remember her technique, and the route she'd followed, even to the tantalizing tickle of her anus. "When did I come into your plans?"
Her face was in the pillow and her words were indistinct. "Did you say you saw me for the first time last Saturday?"
"Yes."
"Roll over." She swung a leg in front of me, and I settled between her thighs. My face was close enough to savor the now familiar and delectable scent of her pussy. Looking up, I could see her face through the bushy hair of her mound. There was a smile of joy and satisfaction on her lips. Then it struck me! She had already arranged the party at her house even before I had met her tonight.
"Everything worked out just fine." She placed her palms on my cheeks. "The size of your cock was a marvelous surprise. But the fact that you love to eat pussy--Oh my! What an expert!"
I put my tongue into the fleshy folds covering her clitoris, my eyes on a level with the dense growth of black hair on her mound. I remembered being offered an exciting view of another, younger, hairy mons. "You're quite an expert yourself, honey. You must teach me how to tie those pretty little ribbon bows sometime."
CHAPTER THREE
Some one tugged at my shoulder trying to drag me up from a warm, black pit of sleep.
"Fred! My God! It's almost five o'clock."
In the dark gray light of early morning, I could dimly see the outline of objects that slowly assumed shapes familiar to me.
"Fred! Wake up! You've got to get me home before the whole neighborhood wakes up."
I yawned, turned my face toward the warm breast that pressed into my chest. "Okay, honey. How about a quickie for the road?"
"Are you crazy?" She rolled away from me, and scrambled out of bed. "You'll get plenty more tonight." She sat on the hassock while she pulled her pantyhose up.
"Aren't you going to shower?"
"We haven't time. Come on, please. Throw some clothes on, and let's get going."
In the glare of headlights and the dusky gray of the early morn, bushes and undergrowth along the driveway appeared grim and threatening as though they concealed ghostly enemies. Florence slid over next to me, laid her head on my shoulder. Her hand toyed with the inner seam of my slacks. "Damn! I wish I didn't have this party tonight. We could have found a grassy spot near the cabin. I love to fuck outside in the early morning. Feel the dew on my bare ass--did you ever try it?"
"No. Sounds like fun, though."
She buried her fingers in my crotch. "You stick with me, honey. There's lots more ways to have fun. Why, you're getting hard again."
"Shall we pull over... "
"Silly! Save that for tonight. You'll need it."
"If you mean that swap party, I'm not going."
She sat up, taking her hand away. "What?"
"I'm not going. I can't afford to get mixed up in anything like that. Hell, the Board would fire me in a minute if they heard... Where you going?"
She had moved to the far side of the front seat, and threw her arm over the back. "I recall you mentioning something about bow ribbons. What did you mean by that?"
A quick glance revealed her chin outthrust like that of a fighter daring his opponent to swing. "Forget it," I mumbled.
"I made some ribbon bows for Linda last week. How did you know about that?"
I kept my eyes on the road. "Answer me, damn it!"
"I... I... "
"Or maybe you have more to tell me about you and Linda all alone for hours up in your romantic cabin in the woods?"
"Oh shit!" I muttered. "I'm waiting."
I said nothing for a minute, then reached out to touch her knee. "Okay. I get the message. What time is your party tonight?"
"Nine o'clock."
"Slide over close, baby. Let me get my fingers soaked in that pussy juice so I can suck myself to sleep when I get home."
"Fred, honey. Really, there's nothing to worry about." She slid back to cuddle up close. My fingers slid up between her parted thighs. "You'll have a barrel of fun. You'll see."
I slept all day, not waking until a few minutes after six. I was famished. Other than a glass of milk this morning before collapsing in bed, I had had nothing to eat since the steak dinner at Florence's. I'd read somewhere that there are a hundred fifty calories in a teaspoon of a man's semen. I couldn't recall ever having seen any estimate of the amount of nourishment in a woman's juices. But I'd had enough of that in the past twenty-four hours to know that a man needed some solid food to stave off hunger. I made a pot of coffee, fried four eggs and four strips of bacon, and made some toast. While I ate, I tried to tally the number of times I had come since yesterday afternoon--once with Linda, and five, six times with her mother? In all the preceding twenty-three years of my life, I had not been with a woman more than three times! I wondered how Cathy would take this news if she were ever to learn of it. The thought of her, and our pending marriage scheduled for the week of Christmas vacation, brought a stab of conscience as painful as the wound of a stiletto. Sweet, lovable, virginal Cathy, I thought, forgive me. An image of her face, framed with long golden hair, and radiant with her happy smile and joyous blue eyes, filled my mind. I could never go through a night of debauchery such as Florence's swap party promised to be. To hell with her, and her horny daughter, and all her filthy friends. "I'll go to a drive-in movie," I told myself. "Let her make anything she pleases out of it."
With more than an hour to fill, I showered, washing my genitals thoroughly, and stuffing a soapy finger into each nostril. The smell of pussy was still strong. I washed my teeth three times, and gargled with a bitter tasting mouthwash, before I got rid of the trace of cunt juice. Putting on a terry robe and a pair of sandals, I went out on the front porch to watch the sunset. The broad view of rolling hills with the green of pines softly hued in the evening sun's light, was enchanting. How Cathy will love this, I mused.
The sound of a car turning into the driveway startled me. Forgetting I wore nothing but a robe, I watched it approach. I knew no one in this town who owned a tan Cadillac. The car pulled up at the foot of the stairs and the driver stepped out. He was a blond, heavy-set man in dark blue jacket and gray slacks. "Fred Simmons?"
"Yes."
He mounted the steps with hand extended. "I'm Will Dearborn." His grip was strong as a blacksmith's. "Yes?"
"I'm a friend of Florence Downs."
"Oh." Inside of me I could feel the flutter of panic start. He looked like a sheriff. I glanced around him. A woman sat in the front seat, smiling a greeting.
"Excuse me," he said with a broad grin. "I want you to meet my wife. Jane!" She opened the car door, and put one foot on the ground.
"I'm not dressed. Would you wait a minute?"
He laughed so loud the sound came back in echoes from a nearby hill. "Jesus! Get this, Jane. He's not dressed!" Standing at the foot of the stairs, she joined in the laughter like a comic's partner on cue. "We drove out to offer you a ride to the party tonight." He glanced at my robe. "You'll have less than that on when things get started."
"I'm not going. I'm sorry. I've thought about it all day. I can't afford to get involved. You see I'm the new teacher at Junior High, and... "
"Of course. Florence told us you might change your mind. Hell, my boy is in your English class, Will Dearborn, Junior."
"Oh." I remembered the pudgy, blond boy, an effeminate youngster already bearing the indelible mark of the fairy wand.
"I own the Dearborn Lumber yard in town." He waited for that to be locked into my memory bank. "I'm also a member of the Board of Trustees of Harder Valley's Educational System." He seemed puzzled by my silence, and blurted out, "I also happen to be a member of the little swap group." He beamed a forced smile to accompany his concluding remark. "So you see, Fred, you really have nothing to worry about in joining our little club."
"You'll find the members are very likable," his wife added. "Everyone is so friendly, and we have so much fun."
"Of course, understand, this is fun for grown-ups," he broke in to say, "we'd take it damn serious if any of our teachers thought they could get away with any tomfoolery with our kids."
"Yes," I said. "I can understand that."
"Sex is fine fun when you're mature and know what you're doing." He looked away for an instant as though he were searching his mind for some more compelling reason to justify his own involvement. "Anyway, Florence says you're lots of fun to be with. She might have chosen someone outside the teaching profession. But she didn't. And since she already told you who the members are, I thought I'd better stop by... " The sly witch, I thought, lying to him about my knowledge as to the identities of the members. She put him in the middle, so now he has to get me into it so that neither of us could bring the group or each other down. "You're sure I wouldn't become... "
"Not a chance," he said. "I guarantee that." I didn't know how much she'd told him about the two of us--or about Linda and me. I knew I was getting into the kind of treacherous water in which even an expert swimmer could lose himself. And I'm the kind of a swimmer who grabs for the rail after one length of the pool, but there was nothing else I could do.
"It won't take me long to dress. I'd ask you in but I have only one room."
"Take your time, Fred. We'll wait in the car."
* * *
Dearborn opened his mouth the moment I got inside next to his wife, and the spate of words poured out like the pressured flow from an open sluice gate. "Hell, you don't want to sit in the back seat." He put his hand on his wife's knee, running it up under her dress. "Who knows, you might be lucky enough to wind up with Jane here. She'll show you a time, eh hon?"
I noticed Jane clutch his wrist, and try to bring her knees together.
"Won't you, hon?" He repeated himself, his hand wandering all over her thighs.
"Yes, Will." She was a small-boned woman nearing forty. I could feel her physical recoil from his touch, and sense the fear and loathing in her.
"We been married... what, hon? Sixteen... "
"Seventeen years."
"Yes, sure. Damn! The old girl gets better in bed every year. You'll see... "
"Will! Please!"
There were tears in her voice if not in her eyes. I opened the window on my side.
"What's the matter, Fred? You warm?"
"I feel a little sick."
"We can pull over if you feel urpy."
"No, no. I'll be all right."
"What do you think of that boy of mine?"
"Well, really, I haven't had... "
"Damn! I don't understand him at all. I bought him a set of golf clubs, tried to get him... "
"Will, please. Mr. Simmons can't possibly have an opinion yet. He's... "
"First impressions are important. Now you take me when I'm going into a business deal, I always... " I sat still the rest of the way, trying to insulate myself from his porcine grunts and squeals, damning Florence and Linda and the whole population of the State of California.
"Here we are. We're early. First ones here." He pulled the car up in the driveway. Florence opened the front door, and waved. She had a drink in her hand. I held the car door, took Jane's elbow. She essayed a weak smile.
"He's had a couple of drinks," she said softly.
"I know." I squeezed her arm. "We all get that way once in a while."
"Fred, darling! I'm so glad you made it." Florence grabbed my arm as I stepped onto the porch. "Hi, Jane! You look lovely. That's a new dress, isn't it?" She tugged at my arm to turn me about. "Don't I get a kiss, honey?"
I placed my hands on her shoulders, leaned over as though I were kissing her cheek. "For Christ's sake! What the hell did you get me into?"
"That's so nice of you to say that. Hello, Will."
"Any smooching going on, I want in on it." He swung her up in his arms, and mouthed over her rouged lips. "Where's everybody?"
"You're early. Come on in. Have a drink. Help yourselves."
While Will and Jane went into the dining alcove, I held Florence by the arm. "My God! Are they all like him? How do you stand his stupid guff?"
"Careful, darling, he's your boss, you know."
"Oh shit!" I muttered.
"Come on, Fred, you need a drink." She led me out to the dining area. "What's your pleasure, sir?"
I regarded the display of Scotch, bourbon, ice cubes, and glasses that covered the top of the small table. "Thanks, I drink nothing but beer."
"One beer coming up."
"Wait till you meet Bayard Jones and his wife, Fred," Dearborn said, his hand fondling his wife's buttocks like a man grooming a bitch he's anxious to sell.
"Who's he?" I took the mug of beer Florence handed me.
"He's a terrific guy and his wife's a living doll. The guy's got more college degrees than a dog has fleas. Phi Beta Kappa, Rhodes scholar, you name it, he's got it."
I couldn't help wondering what was wrong with Mr. Jones. The hard sell was too much like that of a pitchman working off fake merchandise.
"They're here," Florence called from the living room. A babel broke out as the door opened. I strolled into the living room to see what other weirdos belonged to this group. "Bayard, Aimee! I'm so glad to see you." There was nothing wrong with Mr. Jones. He was well over six feet tall, probably six feet six, and his wife was a head shorter, slender and shapely. There was nothing wrong with her either. Each showed the full flowering of the best of the genes of their African and Caucasian forebears.
"Bob and Susan!" Florence greeted another couple who followed the Jones pair into the room. "I want you all to meet Fred Simmons." The Negro stepped forward. "This is Bayard Jones, and his wife, Aimee."
"Hello, Mister Simmons. We've heard a lot about you." Her voice was a rich contralto with vibrant overtones. I glanced at Florence. Aimee laughed. "Oh no," she said, "these tales came direct from school."
"Glad to know you, sir." Bayard extended a hand that engulfed mine. "Our boy's been telling us about his new English teacher... "
"Oh yes, I remember."
They both chuckled. "You couldn't miss him," Bayard said. "The name, Hosea--that was my father's name--he's already six feet. He hopes to be another Alcindor."
"And then," Aimee added, "he's been out in the sun so much... "
"Excuse me," Florence cut in. "Fred, I want you to know Bob and Susan Ober."
We shook hands. Bob was of medium height, quiet and reserved. Susan was a blonde whose hairdresser knew for sure, bubbly and merry. "Our daughter, Alice, has also been giving good reports of you," she said.
"Thank you. She appears to be a very bright girl." I could think of no more satisfactory remark to make to the parents of the girl with the long, blonde hair who sat in the fourth row of my class, her pointed teats thrust out and her tongue licking her sly, smiling lips. Someone started the stereo.
"I want the first dance with you, Fred," Susan Ober said, turning into my arms. The music was a slow blues number with a beat more suitable for copulation than for dancing. Grinding her pubes into mine, and shoving her thigh between my legs at every turn, she seemed determined to combine the two. I felt my cock start to harden, crawling down inside my shorts, making my tight pant leg even tighter. "Mm! I like that," she whispered, leaning back to shove her groin even closer.
Bayard Jones and Will Dearborn entered the living room, pushing a three-paneled mirror mounted on rollers before them. The outer two panels were adjustable like those in a men's clothing store. "What are they doing with that thing?"
"Setting it up for the orgy." Susan pulled me closer and pretended to shiver. "Ooh! I bet you're a real hunk of man in the nude."
"You mean... My God! They're bringing in another one."
"Every couple in the group has two of them. Will bought them up at an auction in L.A. a year ago."
Bob Ober was dancing with Aimee Jones, his face pressed against her breast while his hand was unzipping the back of her dress. Florence stepped up to us and tapped Susan's elbow. "My turn, honey, you haven't had your first drink yet."
"Say, looks like the party's going to get rough," I said. "Is everybody going to strip and go at it right here?"
"Sure! We always begin with a chain blast-off. You'll love it."
"Shit! That's disgusting."
"Oh Fred! Please!" She clung to me with both arms. "Don't chicken out now. That would leave an uneven number, with a man on a man, or a woman eating a woman, I forget which."
I glanced at the other three couples, all going through the motions of dancing, but more interested in taking each other's clothes off. Bob had divested Aimee of her dress, leaving her covered with a half slip, her large firm breasts bare while he nuzzled into them gleefully. Susan was completely naked, wiggling a hula rhythm in front of Will Dearborn as he dropped his slacks and shorts. Jane Dearborn was in the arms of Bayard, her blonde head level with his dark brown chest.
"Undress me, Fred, honey. Let's get in the act."
"Okay." I felt for the zipper in back, found the tab, and yanked. "This comes off over your head, I hope." It did. She wore only a brassiere and panties underneath. I had them off in short order. For a man who had had no previous experience, I was doing very well. I kissed her. "Excuse me, I have to go to the can." I stepped around the mirror and into the hall. The bathroom light was on. I shut the door and locked it, then sat down. I didn't see how I could go through with the action tonight. Choosing partners and going off to the privacy of a bedroom was bad enough, with everybody watching you leave the room. But taking part in the kind of thing... I couldn't do that. I opened the bathroom door quietly, walked softly down the hall to the front door. It was locked with a key from the inside.
I stood beside the mirror and surveyed the room. Four women and three men lay naked on the floor, joined together in oral-genital contact to form an almost completed circle. Will Dearborn had his head buried between Susan Ober's legs; Susan was suckling Bayard's big brown prick, while his kinky black hair was indistinguishable from the curly black mat of Florence's mound. Bob Ober was working on Jane Dearborn's pussy as Florence mouthed his cock. In between Jane's head and Aimee's shapely hips was the spot reserved for this night's newest member. Heads raised up without missing a lick to focus accusing eyes on me. I felt guiltier than they, for I was fully clothed.
Aimee lifted her head and smiled up at me. "If you have any objections, I'll understand. We can shift around." She laid her face down into Dearborn's genitals. For a long moment, the white and brown specked human chain was still.
"No, no," I said at last. "Wait for me." I undressed quickly and settled into the vacant link. Jane took hold of my penis between thumb and forefinger, as a child might take a hated sour pickle out of the fear of disobedience. I could sympathize with her. Fearful of the opinion of others present, I was about to perform the act of cunnilingus, not only in public, but on the genitals of a black woman! As gingerly as Jane was closing in on my cock, I moved my face closer to the V of black kinky hair that blotched the smooth coffee-cream skin. I shut my eyes, pressed my nose into the fuzzy mat. Instead of whatever distasteful sensation I had expected, I discovered the same aura of female juices I had first detected in the vaginal slit of Linda, repeated with only slightly stronger aroma in that of Florence, a rousing, erotic scent that stirred the animal passion within me. I opened my eyes to stare into the mirrored reflections in the three-paneled fixture. The circle of naked male and female forms undulated with a rhythm That flowed so smoothly they looked like segments of one giant living organism. I nuzzled into the freely dripping slit, sensing the currents that coursed throughout the unbroken chain building and driving, increasing the beat of passionate response to maddening delight in waves of surging, pounding, delirious release that swept through every physical link in the chain. I felt as though I had shared the wild joy of my own ejaculation with every one else, while participating in each individual's passionate catharsis.
The chain broke into individual segments slowly, most of them apparently averse to relinquish their suckling hold until the last drop of juice had been extracted. Jane had let go of my penis the moment I had ejaculated, and I felt my pubic hair wet with the puddle of my discharge where she had spat it out. I rose, excused myself, and went into the bathroom to wash it off. On my return, I found that I was paired for the rest of the night's activities with Aimee, and we had been assigned the front bedroom. Will and Susan, together with Bob and Jane, were assigned to the twin beds in Linda's room, while Florence and Bayard would take their pleasure on the sofa in the living room. From the pairing, I figured that the matching of couples was determined by pairing the man with the woman on whom he had performed cunnilingus during the opening orgy.
In the bedroom, I switched on the bed lamp and pulled back the covers, as Aimee waited. "Come on, honey, let's go to bed." She lay down, her long stretch of light-tan, velvety skin broken by small aureoles and pink nipples, and the black bush of her mound. Her breasts were large, still firm, and her belly flat, Roused by the loveliness of her perfectly proportioned body, my cock began to harden. "I don't know what we can do for an encore," I said with a grin, "after that delightful performance in the living room."
Her dark-brown eyes were large and luminous, alight with anticipation as she looked up at me. "You're wasting precious time, Fred. Put that big beautiful cock where it belongs, and let's find out what we can do with it!"
I found out what she could do with it. She had an inner musculature as disciplined as the fingers of an expert clarinetist. "Aimee, baby! Hold it. Let's make this last." Her legs up around the small of my back; she clung to me, motionless as a three-toed sloth.
"Mm! Man! I want to fuck you all night!" She kissed my eyes, nibbled at my ear, and whispered, "You're one of the beautiful people who make life worth-while, you know that?"
"Sucking you and fucking you, baby, have already made my whole life worth-while." The crest that had almost engulfed me had subsided. I pushed into her, feeling the warmth and the wetness of tissues drawing my throbbing cock into her depths until my scrotum bottomed into the sopping slot to rest on her twitching anus. Moaning together in expression of our mutual joy, we moved as though locked in ecstatic union. A number of times we rose to a peak, careful to check momentum before plunging off, then beginning again to rise even higher. Fires began to rage within me, in my legs, my thighs, my asscheeks, my belly, my chest, spreading out of control. "Aimee, baby, I can't stop it. Come! Come!" Her heels dug into my back as I plunged into her, and her ass swung in widening rotation. Muscles inside of her closed around my throbbing cock like the strong fingers of a clutching hand. For a wild exciting moment, we clung motionless, then broke into convulsive bucking and pounding as the fires within us flamed up in a holocaust of ecstasy.
As my cock shriveled and plopped wetly from her sopping vagina, I lay beside her, stroking her belly lightly, and nibbling gently at her nipples. Her breathing returned to normal after a few minutes. She kissed the top of my head. "That, darling, was one for the books, believe me."
"Yes," I whispered. The flesh of her breasts was warm and yielding to my open mouth, the nipples softened to my suckling lips.
"Wonderful!" she said musingly, her fingers at the back of my neck stroking encouragement.
"Turn over." Rolling onto her belly, she tugged a pillow under her. I straddled her, lavishing kisses on her shoulders, her back, brushing tongue tracks down both sides of her spine, thrilling to the music of her moans of delight. My face now poised over her buttocks, I could see the anticipatory shivers of her gluteal muscles awaiting my lips. I kissed my way around and over the soft flesh of her asscheeks, sensing the hard muscles beneath quiver in response. Spreading her cheeks with my fingers, I tongued into her widened crack before I realized the slimy wetness there was a mixture of her vaginal juices and my own seminal discharge. I raised my face, thinking, I can't do that! But evidently she expected me to go on, for she thrust her hips up suddenly to press her wet, hairy slit against my face. The scent and flavor of the mixture was certainly different and unique.
"Ooh! I'm hot!" She flung one leg around me, and lay on her back, tugging the pillow down under her ass. "Eat it, honey. I'm almost ready."
With only one bathroom in the house, Aimee and I were the last to shower.
* * *
Driving me home, Will was quiet, saying little. Apparently the night's activities had drained him of the energy he had earlier displayed in garrulous profusion. Jane fell asleep, her head on his shoulder, as soon as we had driven away. As he turned into the drive up to the cabin, he said, "Fred, I wish you'd let me know what you think of that boy of mine. He's got me worried."
I waited until he had stopped at the cabin, then opened the car door and put one foot on the ground. Jane was sleeping, snoring, bubbles of spittle on her lips. "I can't agree with you, Will, on first impressions. It takes a while for a teacher to get to know and understand what motivates youngsters these days. I gave my class the first writing assignment Friday, an essay or a story of their activities over the weekend."
"That's all right if they honestly write about what they did." He shook his head, perplexity furrowing his brow. "I don't know... "
"Well," I said, "it's quite easy to sift the honest ones from the phonies. After a few of these papers, I might have... "
"Thanks. I'd appreciate your letting me know." I closed the car door softly, and stood, watching the red taillights until they disappeared.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bess Coffey stood on the front porch of the old house in Mountain Springs when I turned into the driveway. She opened the car door before I could get out, tossed her light bag onto the back seat, and slid in beside me.
"Good morning," she said cheerily. "My! You're prompt. Seven-thirty on the dot."
"I live right," I replied with a grin. "I expected Miss Wilson to be waiting... "
"She'll be out in a minute. She never expects a man to be on time."
"I didn't think she'd had that much experience." I saw the flicker of her eyelids, and the slight flush rise in her pale cheeks.
"Did you have a nice week end?" She pressed her knees together, glancing down to tug at her skirt.
"I had a lot of sleep," I said. "That was fun."
Her brows raised in question. "Funny! Your car was parked Saturday night when we stopped by... " Jesus! I thought, the old bag's checking up on me. "Oh, Saturday night... " I could think of no bright retort, and ended up lamely. "A friend came to visit. We ended up going to the movies." Before she could inquire further, I said, "I thought you two were without a car over the week end."
"One of Alice's friends drove us over. I baked a cake Saturday afternoon, and I thought of you out there all by yourself... "
"I'm sorry I missed out on that."
Miss Wilson came out of the house, and hurried to the car. "Good morning, young man. Never expected to find you waiting on me."
As we drove off, Miss Coffey spoke. "Alice, I guessed it. Mister Simmons went to the drive-in Saturday night."
"That was his mistake. The cake was much better than that dirty movie." She swiveled her head to show me lips pursed in disapproval. "Bess insisted on having you sample her prize-winning chocolate layer cake. She's the cook in our household."
"Yes," I replied with moronic stupidity, "anyone can see that." In the painful silence, I dared not look at either one of them.
"Mister Simmons, if you don't mind, I'd like to drop this book off at a friend's house up this street."
"Sure."
"That small, white, frame house in the middle of the block. Here." She opened the car door. "I'll be back in a minute."
"I hope you don't think... " Miss Coffey leaned over to straighten her hose.
I tried to answer lightly. "Any one who knows me can tell you I don't think, Miss Coffey."
Her hands were working the stocking around on the calf of her left leg while she kept her head cocked in the direction of the house where Miss Wilson had disappeared. The back of her hand brushed my right leg, fluttering there momentarily like a bird buffeted by a strong wind. "Do you have many visitors up there?"
"No. Of the few people I know in town, no one knows how to get out there. No one, that is, but... " Miss Wilson appeared in the doorway, talking to some one inside. "If you don't mind, Mister Simmons, I'd like to drop by some evening. I never get a chance... "
"You do that, any time. Be glad to see you. Here comes Miss Wilson."
No one had much to say the rest of the way into town. We dropped Miss Coffey in front of the bank building on Main Street. Miss Wilson said nothing but a grim, "Thank you, Mister Simmons," as she left the car in the school parking lot.
"Any time, Miss Wilson. It was a pleasure." I took my time closing the windows and locking the car. Miss Wilson's stick-straight figure was turning the corner of the building, as I walked slowly forward. 'You're going to have trouble with that old bitch if you're not more careful,' I warned myself.
The school day passed quickly without incident. A mimeographed notice of a PTA meeting to be held the following night was posted on the teachers' bulletin board. The time was eight o'clock. The place, the school auditorium. All were urged to attend.
I drove home in the early afternoon, unpleasantly conscious of the pile of students' compositions stuffed in my brief case. I had seen enough of these juvenile masterpieces in my student teaching days to last me the rest of my life. Never before, however, had I been involved in a sex orgy with parents of any of the students whose papers I had read--a fact that should add a note of piquancy to the reading of otherwise insipid compositions.
At home, I started a pot of coffee perking, stripped, and donned a pair of walking shorts. The afternoon sun flooded the large room with warm, yellow light. Running hastily through the pile of compositions I had stacked on the table, I found that of Hosea Jones. The boyishly scrawled name brought a stab of remembered ecstasy. I read it through quickly, catching the warmth of affection and the close relationship that existed between this boy's parents and himself. "Mom and dad," he wrote, "musta cum home awful late caus I was sound sleep but they got up early Sunday and took me to los angles to see the Dogers play like dad promissed." Another page and a half related with startling clarity the key plays of the ball game.
The coffee had perked to fill the room with a rich savor. I poured a cup and sorted through the pile again, this time coming on that of Will Dearborn, Jr. Less than a page was filled with round, flowing characters that spelled out the information that he had done nothing Saturday night while his dad and mom were at a party but watch TV, look at his stamp collection, and go to bed early. Sunday he had spent by himself mostly, wishing he had something of interest to do. Alice Ober's paper consisted of three pages of detail as to her pleasure in being alone to watch her favorite TV programs Saturday night while her parents were at a party somewhere, "doing you know what adults enjoy doing but they won't let us have some of the same fun." Her paper concluded with an ominous promise: "Believe me, when I get old enough, nobody's gonna find me stuck at home by myself watching movies older'n I am. I'm gonna have me a boy friend that knows all about having grownup sexy fun. You wait and see!"
Near the bottom of the stack, I found the one I was most anxious to read. Written in a small, precise hand, Linda Downs' paper started out with a blunt warning of what was to follow: "Mr. Simmons, you told us to write plain, not fancy just what we did over the week end. Well, mom had a party at home. You know what kind of a party it was-you were there. I spent the night with Alice Ober at her house. We got to talkin you know how girls are they talk about boys. Both of us wanted to call up some boys but we didn know any could stay out late till we thought of Willie Dearborn. His folks were at moms party too. Willie didn want to com but Alice kept askin and he came over. Hes not much fun kinda sissy and girllike himself but what can a girl do? He brot his stamp book who cares about silly old stamps not me not Alice. We turned on the record player Alice has some reel keen records. Willie refused to dance so I danced myself lifting my dress letting him see my legs and stuff. Then Alice rassled him they rolled all over the floor. Hes kinda fat not husky Alice got him down. Take his pants off she told me. I got them off and took off his jocky underware too. Hes got the littles prick you ever saw not hard. I got nakid and wile Alice held him I squatted down on his face but he woodn do nothing not even kiss it. Then I got on top of him wile Alice got nakid. He woodn kiss hers eether so I said Alice you hold him and I'll suck him off so he can get a hardON. All he did was cry. I do like girls he said agen and agen. Alice said we know all about you you like boys to do it to you up the ass. Let's look at it I said Alice hold his legs up. Wider, Wait till I get the floor lamp over closer. I did. We both looked. Maybe you don wanna ask Alice I never told her or anybody about you and me but if you do ask her she'll tell you its the truth. I put my fingers up there. His assholes bigger than a hole in a donut. Who does this to you? You like it? He says he wont fuck girls they got stinking holes but he likes to have a man fuck him up the ass. Mister Simmons, I wont tell you who does it to him. They have parades all the time WHATS WRONG WITH THE WORLD. I'll tell you what wrong. Its dirty old teachers like Mister W thats what. Why dont they leave boys alone? Pricks were made for girls to play with not boys or nasty old men. RIGHT?" RIGHT!
My hands shook so that I dropped the paper. The filthy old bastard!
"What's wrong with that boy of mine?" The words seemed to roll out over the hills and come back in thundering echoes. How many other fathers were asking the same question? I dropped into the lounge chair to think, getting angrier by the minute... my wrath now twofold as I realized my knowledge of his pederasty charged me as a responsible adult with the obligation to do something about it. Damn him! Damn Linda for advising me of it! Damn the whole sex-be-deviled population of this goddamned town! Who was I to sentence him to the stocks for his criminal offense against public morals? I was guilty myself of the crime of cunnilingus with, and being fallated by, a fifteen-year-old girl in one of my classes. Who would ever believe I had been the victim of a sexually precocious child whose mother had aided in my entrapment by making cute little bow ribbons to tie in her pussy hair? Shit!
I started with one bottle of beer. That didn't help. Neither did the second, nor the third. By the time I had finished the fourth, I began to see a little light, a bit fuzzy, but light nonetheless. 'Take your time,' I told myself. 'No use worrying about little Willie's asshole. Another week or two's use of it for other than nature's intention can't make it any bigger than Linda described it. Meanwhile, you'll have a chance to seek competent help with the handling of this delicate matter.' So pleased with the apparent soundness of this conclusion and its excuse for delaying any action, I felt I was entitled to finish the last two bottles of the six-pack. I was drunk when the car pulled up in front. Irked by this interruption of my alcoholic euphoria, I made my way unsteadily to the door. A light blue Chevrolet about ten years old which I had never seen before was parked at the foot of the steps. Miss Coffey got out, waved a cheery greeting over the top of the car, and reached in for a large grocery sack.
"I hope you're hungry," she called from the first step. "Hello! What brings you out to this lonely place?" She giggled as she mounted the steps. "Just that-the loneliness. I brought a couple of steaks... "
"Where's Miss Wilson?"
The light in her eyes died. She tried to rekindle it. "Oh, she's having dinner with an old friend. Won't be home till late."
"Come in." I stood aside to let her pass. She hesitated, regarding me with close appraisal. "I'm not intruding, am I? I brought some beer... " My face lighted with warm approval. "No, no. I just ran out of beer. Come on in. I'm really glad to see you." I followed her across the room. She set the package on the sink, and turned nervously.
"The beer is out in the car, on the front seat."
"I'll get it." Returning in a minute or two, I lifted the bottles from the container and opened the refrigerator door.
"I'll put them away." She took the beer from my hand. "Why don't you have a seat while I prepare the dinner. I've cooked here many times... "
"Okay," I replied, taking one of the bottles.
"Do you think it wise?" Her blue eyes widened. "I mean, you won't have any appetite."
"I'll eat like a pig--I mean... "
"It won't take me long." She emptied the bag, spreading steaks and salad greens on the sink.
I switched on the record player. The number was a sad ballad by Simon and Garfunkel. Seated in the lounge chair, and sipping my beer, I watched her slender behind wiggle as she worked. 'What a lovely piece of ass to waste all these years on that puss-hungry old principal,' I mused aloud.
She turned quickly, "What did you say?"
"You have a lovely figure, do you know that?"
Even from this far away, I detected the blush of responsive pleasure. "Thank you. I haven't heard that in a long time."
"Stick around," I replied, too drunk to care where further comment could lead. "I'll have many more nice things to tell you." I dozed, only dimly conscious of the occasional rattle of pots and pans. Visions of anuses danced in my head, their round, pink little rings burgeoning like the petals of roses in the timed sequences of color photographs, spreading, expanding to reveal yawning circular entrances into cavernous holes. Short, stubby devils appeared, their heads swollen to mammoth dimensions, spurting geysers of pearly liquid from their one-eyed crowns.
I was awakened by a tug at my shoulder. "Fred! Wake up! You're having a bad dream. Dinner's ready."
"Oh! Excuse me a moment." I rose and went into the bathroom to relieve myself. Cold water on my face, and a generous use of toothpaste, restored me somewhat, and cleansed the brown taste from my mouth.
I was hungry. The steak and salad were delicious. Miss Coffey was a very attractive dinner companion, seated across from me, her blue eyes sparkling in the fading daylight. "You're not only an excellent cook, Miss Coffey, but you'd make a lovely wife for some lucky guy."
She lowered her head, touching the silverware with nervous hands. "Please call me Bess."
The food had served to sharpen my awareness, but had had no effect on the dulled stupidity of my thinking. I blundered on. "How come you never married? You been with that old... I mean... " She put a napkin to the corners of her eyes. A light sob escaped her lips.
"Jesus! I'm sorry. It's none of my goddamned business."
"It's all right. I have to talk to someone. A man, not some half-starved old maid... " She raised her head. Tears flowed freely. "If you only knew what it's been like, all these years... " I leaned back in my chair, trying not to stare at her as she fought for self-control.
"When I saw you Friday afternoon, the past came back so suddenly, so clear, it was as though the clock had been turned back twenty years." She sniffed, then cleared her throat. "I don't want this to sound like an excuse for what I did. I was in love with him... " Even to my muddled mind, this was beginning to sound like the baring of a deeply buried secret that only a minister or a psychiatrist should hear. "Bess, you better think about this. I don't want you telling me something you'll regret later. Why don't... "
"I want to tell you. I've never told anyone but Alice, and that's not... You look so much like him. I was only seventeen at the time. My home life was hellish. Dad had walked out on mother when I was ten... she was a drunk who chased around with every man in town. Bill and I were engaged when he was drafted. Three months later, he sent me bus fare to go to San Francisco. We were going to be married." She began to cry openly, unashamedly.
"Please, Bess," I said, "I don't want you to... "
"Let me finish this, please." She took a sip of coffee, sniffed back her tears. "We had one night together when his pass was canceled. He was killed a week after he landed in Japan--one of those inexperienced American troops slaughtered at the outbreak of the Korean war."
I knew she was determined to unburden herself of all the details. I tried to speed up the ending. "You were pregnant, of course. How did Miss Wilson enter into it?"
"She was my English teacher at the time. I had returned to Harder Valley to find my mother had gone off on a drunken spree with some traveling man. The rent was unpaid. When I found out I was pregnant, I had no one to turn to."
"Why didn't you talk to his folks?"
"That's what I wanted to do. Miss Wilson found me crying at school, took me home with her. I told her the whole story. When I said I planned to talk to Bill's parents, Alice told me they'd never believe me. They'd say I was just like my mother... "
"So, did you have the child?"
"No." Gasping sobs shook her for several minutes. "No," she continued, "Alice took me to Los Angeles, arranged for a doctor to perform an abortion in one of the PTA Swap Bait better hospitals." She sat up suddenly, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. "My God! Who's that?"
I cocked my head to listen. The sound of a car coming up the drive to the cabin was unmistakable.
"You expecting someone?" Her face was blanched with terror.
"No. Don't worry. Occasionally someone loses his way. I'll see." As I reached the door, the car turned, its headlights blinding me temporarily. Before I could determine its make, or the number of occupants, it had sped off.
"Who was it? Did you see?"
"No. Forget it. These roads are tricky up here. You miss one turn... "
"It's getting late," she said, rising. "I'll do these dishes and... "
"Never mind them. Sit down and finish your coffee. You didn't tell me how you ended up living with Miss Wilson."
She glanced at her watch, obviously upset by the fleeting passage of the car. "It's almost nine-fifteen. I want to be home when Alice returns."
"I'll clean up. You run along. Thanks for the dinner." I escorted her to the door. The beery mist had cleared from my mind. "My God!" I exclaimed, "I've been here all evening half-naked. I'm sorry, believe me."
"I didn't mind, really." She turned to stand in the open doorway, and sighed. A wistful smile lighted her face. "It's nice seeing a man's hairy, muscular chest for a change." Her gaze dropped to her hands nervously toying with her purse. "Alice has been awfully good to me. She took me in when I had no one to turn to for help. She paid for my secretarial course, found me my first and only job... " She was not talking to me now, the sad words spilling out in a stream of mournful bitterness. "It seemed at the time so safe, so secure. I had no idea I had traded my freedom as a woman for dismal security."- She was crying softly. "That haunts me now every waking moment, and at night. I wake up often, my mouth open, ready to scream. What if I'd borne his child? There's nothing left of Bill now--nothing in this whole world but the faded memory of him in my mind."
I watched her cross the porch and descend the steps like a woman in a trance. Without a backward glance, she got into her car and drove away.
CHAPTER FIVE
After Miss Coffey left, I spent almost an hour washing the dishes, and cleaning the broiler. I propped pillows up in bed, and settled down to spend some time in reading the stack of compositions I had failed to go over. Half-way through the first one, the high beam of an approaching car cut through the blackness of night. "Who the hell is that?" I grumbled. The brilliant light flashed over me briefly as the car swung around the graveled circle and came to a stop. Still blinded, I could not make out the identity of the driver until the door had slammed and she hurried around the back of the car.
"Miss Coffey! Did you have an accident?"
"Something terrible happened... just terrible!" She sobbed. "Oh, my God!"
"Come in. Are you all right? Did you hit somebody?" I put my arm around her shoulder to steady her. She seemed about to collapse. I led her over to the lounge chair, and held her elbow until she had settled safely into it. Tears had left mascara streaks down both pale cheeks. "You need a drink."
"I need something, please."
I had a bottle of bourbon in my hand, breaking the seal, when I heard her say in choking sobs, "Alice kicked me out!" I nearly dropped the bottle.
"What?" I swung around to see her crying into her handkerchief.
"That was her car that drove by tonight."
"Oh Jesus! And I bet she thought... "
"Yes."
I set the bottle on the sink, and took another glass from the shelf. I needed a drink too. "Okay," I said, handing her the small glass, "toss it right down. Here's some water for a wash." She gulped the whiskey, and nearly choked. So did I. Neither of us could speak for a minute or two. I sat on the edge of the bed. "Well," I said, trying to laugh, "I don't know much about these lovers' quarrels... " A stupid remark, I thought, but a quick look at her assured me it had not registered. "This is a simple misunderstanding," I continued. "I'll clear it all up in the morning. I'll talk to her, tell her... "
"She said she recognized my car. She was going to stop, but when she saw you standing naked in the doorway... "
"Oh!"
"I had to come back to warn you about her. She can be mean and vicious... " I stood up. The whiskey was churning in my stomach. "I'll fix us another drink."
"I think I've had enough."
"I'll make it a light one, mix it with water." Goddamn, what a mess, I thought, as I took ice cubes from the tray. I already had more trouble than I could handle, with Linda's beribboned pussy, her mother's swap group, and Willie's gaping asshole. And now to be tabbed as the suspect male interloper in a Lesbian lovers' quarrel! "Have a drink. Maybe we'll think of something."
For five minutes we sipped at our drinks, not looking at each other. She had stopped crying. "Look, how did she ever happen to come out here tonight? I thought she had a dinner engagement."
"She lied about that--did so purposely to trap me."
"But I only met you last Friday... "
"I was the one suggested we ask you for a ride to Mountain Springs. She said I put my car in for repairs on purpose, knowing hers was also out of commission."
"She could have checked with the garage man... "
"She did, this afternoon." A deep flush spread up from her neck to enflame her face. "He told her there was nothing wrong with it."
"Damn!" I downed the rest of my drink. So did she. "This can turn into real trouble."
"I'm sorry I got you mixed up in this."
"How did you pack up all your stuff and get back here so quick?"
"I packed nothing. She wouldn't let me in the apartment. She told me to come back in the morning after she'd left and get my things. She never wanted to see me again."
"Where are you going to spend the night?"
"I don't know. I can't check into the motel in town. The news would be spread all over before sun-up."
I thought that over. "Well, might as well be hanged as sit in the gas chamber. You can stay here. I'll sleep on the couch."
"Oh, I couldn't take your bed."
"Nonsense. I'll get you a pair of pyjamas. I'll take a stroll outside while you get undressed. Take your time."
With only a pair of walking shorts on, my skin was pimpled by the chill of night. I paced the front porch, cursing her stupid scheming that had landed us both in this frightening mess. If I knew Miss Wilson, I was sure my first year at Harder Valley Junior High would be my last-that is, if I managed to get through the school year. I had taught only one week, and had already been guilty of enough transgressions to justify my being fired thirty times over.
"Are you bedded down, Miss Coffey?" I called through the open door.
"Yes."
She was stretched out on the couch, a pillow under her head, and a blanket thrown over her. "I'll be all right here," she said. "This couch is too short for you."
"Okay."
I went into the bathroom, donned the pyjamas that hung on the back of the door, cleaned my teeth, and went to bed. "Anything you want before I douse the light?"
"No, thank you. Good night."
I lay in the dark for some time, puzzled over the whole affair. What had she planned to do? What had she hoped to get out of it? Was she man-hungry after years of pussy-diddling? I fell into a dream-filled sleep in which the town's entire populace paraded past in the nude, the females with pink ribbons in the hair of their heads and their pussies, the males with blue ribbons trailing from stiff pricks. Occasionally, a boy would stop before me, turn his back and bend over to display his asshole from which a large cucumber protruded. Over the noise of the crowd, I could hear the soft crying of a child, alone, and separated from his loved ones. The muted wail came nearer, drowning out all other sound. "What's the matter, baby?" I asked, reaching out.
"I was cold."
I opened my eyes. The room was dark, the wind stirring outside. She lay beside me, cuddled under the blanket. "Do you want more cover?"
"No. It's warm here." She turned on her left side, one foot touching mine, her head close to my shoulder. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't invited me to stay. I feel so alone." She whimpered like a small puppy spending the first night away from its mother. I put my arm under her shoulders and drew her close.
"Cry it out of you, little one. This is all for the best. You know that."
"Yes."
I kissed her forehead. I could feel the bedclothes begin to rise above my groin. She lifted her face, her open lips wet my cheek before they found my mouth. Her hand slid under my pyjama top to nestle warm and trembling on my belly. As our tongues touched and darted, her fingers crawled down my belly, slithered under the elastic band to close around the hardened shaft of my cock. She moaned, pressing herself up against me. "Put it in, please, please. Let me have it!"
I opened the buttons of the pyjama top, ran my hand into her pubic hair. She had come prepared, having shed the bottom of them. "Let me get out of these," I said, pulling the bottom of my pyjamas down and off, and shedding the top. I switched on the bed lamp. She had lovely firm breasts. I rolled over on her, guided my stiff cock into the wet hairy part of her vaginal slit. She spread her legs wide, and raised her hips, as I moistened the swollen crown. Her eyes closed, her jaw set, she lay stiffly as though awaiting the pain of penetration. "Relax. Open up." My cock pressured at her vaginal lips. "Lift your ass a little. There." The crown slipped in. I waited a few moments. "All right?"
"Yes, yes." She opened her eyes. There was a joyful glitter in them, and a smile of triumph on her lips. "Ooh! He's big, big! Let me have all of him!" She flung her legs up over my hips as I moved slowly into her, her heels digging into my ass, and her fingernails into my shoulders. I had just bottomed out in her, my scrotum resting on her twitching anus when she dug her nails even deeper, and cried, "Oh, I'm coming! I can't help it! I'm coming!" I felt her nails cutting into my flesh as her body stiffened, then bucked up to grind her pubes in wild gyrations against me. For a moment I thought my balls had been swallowed up in her as orgasmic waves racked her violently, gradually subsiding to leave her clinging to me, limp and spent. She lay motionless beneath me, her eyes closed, breathing deeply through her open mouth. I waited, my swollen cock buried to the balls within her. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened, revealing eyes glazed momentarily with unawareness.
"You were ripe and ready," I whispered, grinning.
Returning consciousness brought a glitter to her eyes and an apologetic smile to her lips. "I'm sorry. I couldn't wait. I've been wanting this, thinking of nothing but this, since Friday."
"Wonderful! Stay with me this time. Slow down if you feel yourself getting close."
We started again, matching our movements in perfect rhythm. Although her vaginal barrel was thoroughly lubricated, it was as tight and active as the cup of a milking machine clutching a teat. Several times we backed away from a mutual blast-off, sensing each other's urgency in time to halt immediate ignition. Finally, I felt the fuse sizzling through my prostate, this time beyond recall. "Now!" I cried, thrusting into her with short brutal strokes. "Now!" The gathered storm broke within us with savage furious delight, tossing us into and against each other with a savage ecstasy that obliterated consciousness. Only gradually did I become aware that her legs had slipped off my back, and my flaccid cock lay nestled in the warm gluey mat of her cuntal slit. I sensed too the raw skin of my back that felt like flayed flesh. I climbed over her and rose.
"Where are you going?"
"To take a look at my back. I think you skinned me alive."
"Turn around. Let me see." I turned. "Oh, my God! Did I do that?"
"Who else?"
She crowded into the bathroom with me. "Oh, honey," she groaned, "I'm sorry. I was completely out of my mind." In the long mirror on the back of the door, I could see the raw welts up and down my back, blood trickling from several deep wounds.
"Christ! You must have half of my skin under your fingernails," I muttered sourly.
"Get in the shower, Fred. Let me soap them well." We stepped into the shower together. She soaped not only my back, but every other portion of my body. I was not in a playful mood, and let her scrub herself as I stood on the bath mat drying myself. My back was so tender, I couldn't stand the rough surface of the towel on my skin. She stepped out of the shower to daub my back dry.
"It's all right," I replied to her moaned apologies, "no one but my masseuse will ever know."
We returned to bed. I switched off the lamp. The sheet felt like sandpaper on my back. As I rolled over on my right side, she snuggled close, her face pressed to my chest. "Don't be mad at me, darling. I couldn't help it."
"Go to sleep," I mumbled. "Forget it."
I closed my eyes, tried to sleep, but her lips were nibbling at my tiny nipples. Despite my anger, my penis began to swell and harden. By the time her tongue had brushed down across my belly, my cock had risen to thrust itself up to her suckling mouth. I was no longer angry with her. She went at it like a kid with her first lollipop, inexpertly, but enthusiastically.
We slept. I came awake in the first light of morning, my cock stiff in her playful fingers. She kissed me. "He's hard and swollen... "
"Yes."
"Fuck me again, Fred, please. I promise I won't repeat that... Please!"
She was desperately cock-hungry. I couldn't refuse. Besides... It was a long tantalizing soulful session... We came, together, in a grinding explosive climax as the first shafts of sunlight flooded into the room.
Later, after a hurried breakfast, we showered and dressed. I escorted her to her car, held the door open. She held out her arms, and kissed me. "Oh, Fred! I can't tell you what this night has meant to me. I never realized what I've been missing."
I grinned. "We'll do it again, soon."
Her eyes lighted up with a warm glow. "That's a promise. I'll get an apartment today. I want you to be my first guest-all night. Ooh!" She shuddered. "You promised."
"I won't dare get in bed with another woman till my back heals."
I drove into the school parking lot a half-hour early. Miss Wilson's car was parked in her reserved spot. As I opened my car door, a Ford pulled in beside me.
"Good morning, Mister Simmons."
"Hi, Missus Johnson. A lovely day." She was a young, attractive brunette, in her second year as a teacher of history. "You going to the PTA meeting tonight?" We strolled across the parking lot toward the main building.
"It's an odds-on bet I am. I don't want any trouble with the demon virgin." I held the door open for her. Miss Wilson came out of her office as we crossed the threshold.
"Good morning, Miss Wilson." We both spoke at the same words.
"Good morning, Missus Johnson." She gave the history teacher a pleasant smile, glared at me, and walked away.
Mrs. Johnson stopped to stare after her, then glanced at me with raised eyebrows. "What did you do to bug her?"
I shrugged. "I'm a man, I guess."
"Hm!" She shook her head thoughtfully, then chuckled. "Don't ever change, Mister Simmons. Most of us women are glad there's a difference."
I worried my way through the long and torturous day. I knew I was in deep trouble. Miss Wilson was not one to forgive my plucking the one rose on which she had lavished such loving care, regardless of my innocence of deliberate thievery. She was sly and vicious, and would grasp any opportunity for revenge. Several times during recess or between classes, Linda tried to corner me, but I managed to avoid being seen talking to her alone. At the close of the school day, I hurried out to my car, glanced in the back to make sure I had no concealed passenger, and drove quickly away.
On arrival at the cabin, I changed into old clothes, and took off for a stroll through the woods. I found a knoll not far away, with tall grass, surrounded by a dense growth of shrubbery. If anyone dropped by this afternoon, anyone at all, I was determined not to be disturbed. I stripped and lay down in the tall grass to bathe in the warm sun, lying on my belly to bare my wounds to the healing rays. Occasionally, off in the distance, the sounds of light traffic on the highway broke the stillness. Close by, I could hear only the buzz of insects, the chirp of birds, and the sough of a breeze through the tall grass. After half an hour or so, I turned over. The sunlight was warm and tingly on my skin. To my amazement, I felt my penis lengthening, swelling, angling stiffly upward. "Damn you!" I muttered, "you've gotten me into more trouble in the last few days than in all the rest of my life." I deliberately turned my thoughts to Cathy, trying to break the spell of sensuality. The more intensely I called her lovely image to mind, the harder my prick became. With shock, I found myself trying to visualize what her vaginal slit would look like, to savor the taste of her pussy-sweet, wet with her perfumed dew, the fine silky hair, smooth and slick as moist cornsilk. Ah! Cathy! Love! I gave myself up to the delights of ejaculation so spontaneous it had no stimulus other than the image of her lovely face. Afterwards, wiping the gooey mess from my legs with a soiled handkerchief, I berated myself bitterly. "You evil bastard, you! Nothing is sacred to you anymore."
I stopped at an Italian restaurant in town, had a large pizza, two cups of coffee, and drove back to the school. From the number of cars in the parking lot, I thought the turnout was unusually large. The auditorium was almost filled. Miss Wilson was on stage, introducing the thirty members of the teaching staff, seated on the platform. Everybody was present, except myself. I moved down a side aisle as unobtrusively as I could, and took the only vacant seat, next to Mr. Warren. Miss Wilson turned a baleful glare on me, then turned back to the microphone.
"Parents, I want you next to meet the capable gentleman who has filled in so well for our ailing staff member, Mister Offenbach, in the teaching of Sociology. Some of you may have met him before, Mister Joseph Warren."
Warren rose to his feet, his skinny frame unwinding like a tired spring. "What a pile of shit," I thought. In the audience, in the first row, I saw the Dearborns looking up, their hands joining in the perfunctory applause.
At the microphone, Miss Wilson, her face beaming, turned sideways to call to Mr. Warren. "Would you care to say a few words? Ladies and gentlemen, I can't tell you how pleased we are to have Mister Warren with us. He has several degrees from some of the outstanding universities in the country. He is acknowledged authority in his field. Would you care to say a few words, Mister Warren?"
Warren waved a hand-in a gesture of deprecation, and sat down.
"Very well," Miss Wilson continued. "I'm sure you will hear more from this talented man in the future. Lastly, may I introduce to you a young man who has just joined our teaching staff. He comes from the University of Iowa Teachers College, with a degree... " She hesitated, as though uncertain. "What is your degree, Mister Simmons?"
"A Master's Degree in English," I called out.
"Oh yes. Of course, we have given him the usual year's provisional contract to determine his qualifications." She turned sideways to address me. "Would you care to say a few words?"
I surprised myself, and shocked her, by rising. "Yes," I said. "Thank you very much." Approaching the microphone, I was greeted by a thunderous ovation, led by the Dearborns, and by Bayard and Aimee Jones, also grinning up at me from the front row, and by Bob and Susan Ober and Florence Downs, seated right behind them in the second row. As I reached the podium, Miss Wilson covered the microphone with her right hand, but I read her lips; "You sonovabitch, make it brief!"
"Thank you very much, Miss Wilson," I said, taking the mike away from her. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have little I want to say, other than to express my gratitude for the way you have accepted me into your beautiful and hospitable community. I want you to know I hold very dear the obligation of the teacher to aid your children in finding a full and meaningful relationship to the world around them. With your help, I hope to aid them in establishing themselves as concerned individuals, aware of the problems of their environment, anxious to contribute their full share in the solution of the problems that confront us today." I sat down. The applause was deafening.
"Please!" Miss Wilson shouted into the mike. She waved both hands. When the applause had subsided, she said, with a note of sarcasm, "Out of the mouths of babes... Let us proceed to the nomination of the candidates for office of the ensuing year."
"Madame Chairman," Will Dearborn bellowed, rising. "Before we get into that, I want a chance to open up for discussion the subject of sex education in our public schools. I understand you have a whole new program on this subject, and not a one of the parents has had a chance to examine it. Is that true?"
Miss Wilson raised both hands to ask for quiet. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mister Dearborn. Let me assure you, all of you, that this matter has received the most careful attention of every member of the faculty. This new program has received the most careful scrutiny of every member of our faculty, men and women versed in every phase of modern thinking on the subject. I might call on one of the most distinguished members to answer your question." She turned to face Mr. Warren. "Joseph, would you please take the microphone?"
I felt as though I would vomit. I rose. Mrs. Johnson called out to me, sotto voce, "Simmons, terrific!" Like a cat with the urge to defecate, I slunk off into the night.
CHAPTER SIX
For the rest of the school week, I was careful to avoid any association with Warren, the mere sight of whom was enough to sicken me. I tried to convince myself that I had nothing but childish gossip about the man, no proof, yet every time I saw him, Linda's blunt words descriptive of Willie's posterior came vividly to mind. Apparently he sensed my antagonism, and stayed away from me. The few times I met Miss Wilson in the hallway, she was as huffy as a cuckolded husband toward his wife's lover.
Friday noon, I asked Mrs. Johnson to stroll with me out in the parking lot. We had reached the far end of the paved area, and I had found no words as yet. She stopped, combed her hair from her eyes with long slender fingers.
"You did have something you wanted to discuss... "
"Yes. I don't quite know how to ask this, but have you ever had any experience with homosexuality?"
She stared at me for a moment, the shock showing in her startled eyes, then she laughed like a tickled child. "Not me, Mister Simmons! Oh my! I've always liked boys."
"That was stupid," I said, feeling my cheeks flame. "I meant, have you noticed anyone or anything since you've been here, any of the faculty... "
"Look!" Her laughter ceased. "That's a very serious charge. You better be able to prove something like that." She looked down to kick at pebbles. "I don't know what bugs Miss Wilson about you, or vice versa. Everybody in town knows she has had a woman living with her for years. Nobody has ever proven anything. Nobody has ever tried."
"I didn't mean... "
"I wouldn't get mixed up with that, if I were you. Let sleeping dogs lie." She glanced up at me, and grinned. "In this case, maybe, sleeping bitches. I think it's close to the bell." We started back toward the school. "Besides, maybe you haven't heard, but her girl friend has left her. Miss Coffey, I think her name is. It's all over town... " After my one o'clock class, I walked out to my car, telling myself Mrs. Johnson was right, even though she had misconstrued my statement. I had no proof. Keep your nose out of this stinking mess, I thought, as I drove away. I had driven but a few blocks, when a girl's voice in the back seat spoke up. "Mister Simmons, did you read my paper?"
"Oh God!" I glanced over the back of the seat to see Linda's face peering up from the pile of blankets and bedding still on the floor. "Linda, I told you never to do that again. You're going to get me into serious trouble. I'll turn around and take you right home."
"You will get in trouble if the neighbors see me getting out of your car. Besides, I told mom I was going to ride out with you. She's coming to pick me up around six."
"Damn it! Why can't you... "
"Did you read my paper?"
"Yes."
"Why haven't you talked to me all week? I wanted to tell you I can prove everything I told you about Willie Dearborn and his... "
"Never mind. I don't want to hear any more about this-do you understand?"
"I saw Willie sneak into Mister Warren's car this afternoon. I bet he's going to get it up the ass again."
"Where did you ever learn to talk like that?"
She giggled. "You go within a block of Mister Warren's house on the way to your place."
I should have kept my mouth shut but I asked, "Where does he live?"
"Oh no, I'll tell you when to turn. It's an old house a block off the highway. You can drive by, and park your car, then walk back. You don't need to worry about anyone seeing you. Nobody lives within two blocks of him."
"Some other time, maybe. Not today. Not with you around."
"You mean you're not going to do anything about this?" Her voice sounded shocked. "I'll stay in the car. This may be your only chance to make sure."
I thought that over for a minute. "You're sure your mother's coming for you?"
"Sure."
"And you'll stay in the car?"
"Sure."
"All right, tell me where to turn."
The street wasn't paved. I had to drive carefully to avoid deep chuckholes, catching a glimpse of the old frame house on my left as I drove past. Large oleander bushes grew close to both sides of the ancient structure. Linda was right. There were no other houses on either side of the street. I turned the car into the vacant prairie, shielding it behind a clump of bushes. Certain that no one in the house could see it, I opened the door. I warned Linda, "Listen, you! I don't want you stirring out of here. Stay hidden under those blankets just in case anyone should come by."
There was no sidewalk, and I avoided the street, making my way slowly through high weeds and underbrush across the vacant land. This is the stupidest thing you've done in your whole life, I muttered. Suppose Willie isn't there, and Warren catches you snooping around? Or even if Willie should be there, and you do see them coupled in action, what have you done except satisfy your own degenerate curiosity? I knew that was exactly why I had succumbed to Linda's insistence that I check out her story. If it were true, certainly someone should do something. I was unsure I had the courage to be that one.
I made it across the bare patch of ground silently, and concealed myself in the oleander bushes. The bedrooms were obviously on this side of the house, their single windows separated by a small one, the pane of which was covered by multi-colored paper pasted to the inside. I heard noises coming from the open window on my right. The sill was no higher than my navel. I crouched down, my knuckles in the dirt between the bushes and the house, until I had worked my way under the window. Willie's high voice could be distinctly heard. "Oh! Mister Warren. You do that so good! I'm going to come." The responding male voice sounded like muffled grunts. I raised my eyes to the level of the sill. The bed was against the opposite wall, its foot about three feet from me. Willie lay naked, his chubby torso just visible above the black, gray-flecked head working at his groin. Mr. Warren was on his knees at the foot of the bed, his long, skinny body hunched forward over Willie, his hands under the boy's ass, lifting his buttocks. Willie's fat legs thrust outward, then raised to clamp his thighs around Warren's head. While the boy rolled and bucked his hips, and cried out, Warren's face was mashed down into Willie's lower belly. "Oh, I like that!" Willie moaned as his body sagged. Warren rose after a minute or so, and lay beside the naked boy. The contrast in the two sets of genitals was striking, Willie's small prick was now but an inch or two long, with very little hair around the base of it. His testicles were no larger than a small tobacco sack. Warren's cock was stiff and hard, rising out of a black bush of bristles, while his hairy scrotum was as large as a Delicious apple.
"We got time today, Mister Warren. Let me suck you off first, may I?" His face was pressed to Warren's belly, moving down into the patch of pubic hair.
"Suck it a while. What time's your mother coming home?"
"Four o'clock."
"We don't have time for both. Make up your mind what you want."
Willie was nestled between Warren's thighs, his mouth engorging the swollen crown.
"You like it better up the ass, Willie. Put the pillows under your belly and roll over."
With his legs spread and his asscheeks raised, his fat buttocks resembled a huge, hard roll split down the middle. His hands reached back to widen his crack as Warren knelt behind him. His asshole was not a puckered ring of pink flesh. It was opened and round and gaping.
"I guess we don't need the Vaseline any more, do we, Willie?"
"Naw. Just spit on it good."
Disgusting as the sight was, I had a hard-on that I could have stuck into the wall. It was so swollen, I had to unzip my slacks and take it out. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and almost shouted. Linda knelt beside me, glanced down at my hard cock, and grinned. I put my finger to my lips. Warren was all the way into him now, pausing while Willie caught his breath.
"Gees, Mister Warren! I like your big cock up there in me. Feels like it's tickling my tongue."
"Take hold of it, boy, like I taught you. Ah! That's it!"
Willie lifted his face from the sheet. "I remember the first time I shoved a wienie up my ass. Mom and dad had been out to a party. I pretended I was asleep when they got home. I waited until I heard them making noises in their bedroom, and sneaked down the hall. Dad was fucking mom up the ass. Gees! I wanted someone to do that to me."
Warren's buttocks were pumping slowly, grinding into him, then backing off in a steady rhythm. Linda's breath was hot in my ear, her hand reaching down to fondle my prick.
"How old were you then, Willie?" Warren asked. "Seven, I think. I went out to the kitchen, got a wienie out of the refrigerator, and went back to my room. It felt so good stuck up there when I finally managed to get it in, I must have played with myself for an hour."
"What did you do with the wienie?" Warren chuckled.
"Washed it off and put it back in the package. I think I ate it the next day for lunch. Say, Mister Warren, mom and dad are going out tomorrow night. Their bridge club again. Why don't you come and get me. We could spend hours in bed and nobody would know."
"How late do they stay?"
"Shucks, they never get home till three or four o'clock in the morning."
"Good! I'll drive by. You be out front waiting. What time?"
"Eight-fifteen."
"Okay."
"Gees! I'm ready to come again. Fuck me good, Mister Warren!"
* * *
I removed Linda's hand from my cock. I was almost there myself. Motioning her to follow, I moved in a crouch along the wall, slinking forward to the front of the house, then ran lightly across the yard into the adjoining field. Linda climbed into the front seat with me, and refused to get in back. "I'll lie down," she said. "Nobody will see me." She reached into my open fly, and retrieved my still hard prick. "Wait here for a few minutes." Before I could object, she had taken it in her mouth, and within a minute, I began to spurt like a blowing whale. When she had drawn off the last drops, she folded the soft spongy mass back into my slacks. "There. That'll hold you till we get to your place. I brought some condoms with me today. I want that big thing up in me."
"Lie down, then. We're off." Although I had blown a large load, I was still so horny, I didn't give a damn what happened. Besides, this was an opportunity for me to find out what it was like to lay a fifteen-year-old girl, to know the magic of youth. I wasn't, after all, much better than Warren, except for the natural matching of the male and female parts.
Fortunately, Linda was on her knees on the floor as we passed Warren's house. He stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers. I'm sure he recognized my car. I made no sign as I drove by. Had he heard us as we scurried away?
The sunlight was still warm and brilliant when we arrived at the cabin. Linda leaped out of the car, and dashed up the steps. "Last one to get their clothes off is a you-know-what."
"Wait," I called to her. "Not in there. Come on, follow me."
She jumped off the porch and came running up to me. "I know. In the woods. Good. I never been bare-ass out in the open."
I pointed up at the high knoll where I had sunbathed the other day. She ran ahead of me, disappearing in the tall bushes. In a minute or two, I found her stretched on the grass with nothing but a pair of panties on. I undressed slowly, studying her lovely nakedness, her small young breasts, white and smooth, capped with small tantalizing pink nipples, the flowing curves of her hips still girlishly slender. "I'm waiting," she said, her eyes glittering up at me as I finally stood naked before her. She sat up. "Wait! Let me put this rubber on him. Darn! I wished we didn't have to. I'd like to feel him spurt up in me, but mom says I'm too young to start taking the pill." She had had practice in the application of the sheath. "Now, you lie on your back. Let me on top. He's awfully big. Let me get him inside me."
She knelt over me after removing her panties, took hold of my fat, hard cock. Even through the rubber, I could sense the slickness of her mucoid slit. "Hold your breath, honey." She was easing down on it, pressuring the crown into her vaginal lips. "Oh, he's big!"
"Take it easy, baby. Relax."
She frowned. "I don't know if I can take it." A little more pressure, steady now, and she squealed. "Oh! The head of it's in. Hold still, Don't move."
I couldn't stir if I had wanted to. My cock felt as though it were caught in a vise. "Take it easy. Linda. You're so tight, I'm afraid you'll squeeze the head of it off."
She giggled. "Wouldn't you look funny!" She moved her legs out a bit. I felt my cock move up in her an inch or so. "Oh honey, that's good. Ooh! I'm gonna love this." She settled down a little more. "That's half of it. I didn't know I was so big up there. More." She was staring down, watching my shaft being swallowed up by her vagina. "Just a bit more. How'm I doing?"
"Wonderful. There!" Her soaking cuntal lips were moistening my balls. "Oh, baby, that's wonderful."
"You like it this way?"
"It's the first time like this for me. I don't know yet."
She clamped inner muscles around the base of my cock, and giggled. "Feel that?" I replied with a throb of the crown buried up in her. "Mm! I can feel him." She raised up slowly. We both watched the shiny, rubber-clad shaft emerge gently, drawing her cuntal lips down and spreading them like wet petals of a red rose. As the bulbous crown reached the opening, she stopped, milking it, sending shivers down into my scrotum. "You like that? Honey, I can make him come any time I want him to, just by squeezing him like that." There was a pride in her voice, the joyful pride of an expert performing with every known skill.
"I believe you. Not yet, though. Who taught you all these tricks?"
"Mom has a book. I must have read it a dozen times, but I don't get a chance to practice on a big beautiful cock like yours." While she continued to sink my shaft into her, and then rise slowly up it, I fondled her tits, tweaking the hard nubbins, palming the soft flesh.
"Lean forward so I can get these in my mouth. They look so lonesome." My hips were coming up off the grass to force my cock more deeply into her with each downward slide of her pussy on my wet pole. She was moving faster now, rotating her asscheeks as she pressured down on me. "I'm getting close, baby," I muttered, pulling her face lower so I could kiss her.
"I'm with you," she replied, stabbing her tongue into my mouth, flattening her tits on my chest.
"Now!" I cried, clutching her ass in my right hand, and forcing her mound against the base of my cock. Belly beating on belly, sensing the spasms of delight coursing through each other, moaning and grinding and crying, we came together, thrashing the juices of joy until we sagged into motionless rest. I waited for several moments, then said, "Better get up. He's going soft inside. Don't lose that rubber up there."
Raising up on her haunches, she reached down to clasp the end of the condom at the base of my cock, then lifted her groin to let the flaccid staff plop out. "Darn! I wish we could have done it without this." She stripped the condom off, twisted the top of it. "I could hardly feel you come. Now, we have to make sure there were no holes in it." She squeezed the semen down with her fingers until it was gathered in a cloudy ball at the closed end. After examining it carefully, she grinned. "You won't be a father this time. No leaks." She tossed it away, then lay down beside me. "Isn't this fun, fucking out in the warm sunlight?"
"Marvelous, but it's getting late. We better get in a shower before your mother gets here." The sound of a car turning into the graveled drive sent a cold shiver up my back. I scrambled to my feet, and dressed hurriedly. "Linda, get dressed, but stay here until I see who that is. Wait until I come for you." I glanced back to see her lying naked, eyes closed, her hands gently massaging her breasts. "Get dressed," I whispered, then rushed through the bushes. Florence Downs stepped out of her car, and turned to wave.
"Hi! I'm a little early. Where's Linda?" I cleared my throat twice before I could speak. "She went for a stroll. Go in the house. I'll go get her."
"Wait! It's too nice a day. I'll go with you."
"Really, I'd... " She put her arm around my waist. "Aren't you glad to see me?"
"Certainly." I embraced her, lavishing kisses on her neck and ears and lips. Linda, please, I said to myself, for God's sake! Get your clothes on!
"Come on, Fred, lead the way."
My legs felt as limp as my cock. She had seen me emerge from the bushes at the top of the knoll. I could not go off in another direction. As slowly as I dared, I moved forward, keeping my arm around Florence to maintain a time-consuming pace. "I think she was up here somewhere, Florence," I said loudly, hoping Linda would hear. As we broke through the bushes into the grassy clearing at the top, Linda lay in the same spot, still nude. Apparently she was sound asleep. "She's naked," I whispered hoarsely, trying vainly to put a note of astonishment in my voice.
"Wait! Let her sleep a minute." Florence's arm slipped around me. "Isn't she beautiful!"
"Yes, oh yes!"
"I don't see how any man could keep his penis in his pants looking at her." On the grass a couple of feet to the right of Linda's hip lay the discarded condom, slick and shiny in the late sunlight. I prepared myself for the screams of outrage that would surely come. She couldn't miss seeing the glistening rubber so obviously used just a few minutes ago. Instead of a scream, she emitted a loud sigh, laid her head on my shoulder, and pulled me close. "Looks like I was only a few minutes late for the party."
Linda opened her eyes, and smiled serenely. "Hi! Mom! Oh, it's simply marvelous out in the open with the sunlight warm and everything."
"Come on, honey. Get your clothes on. I brought steaks and things."
This is a weird threesome, I thought, as Linda dressed, but I was thankful there had been no mother's anguish so normal for such a situation. The three of us had reached Florence's car when another drove up.
"Why, Bess Coffey!" Florence cried. She glanced at me quickly, then turned to face the blushing driver. "I didn't know you knew Fred. Linda's in his English class."
"Mister Simmons and I met a week ago, Florence."
"You two know each other?" I asked the stupid question to avoid being regarded as a stupid onlooker.
"We work for the same law firm," Florence replied. "Bess is secretary to Mister Bourdet, and I'm Mister Colpitts' secretary."
"That's cozy," I interjected, thinking what a wonderful subject they could gossip about.
"How do you like living alone, Bess? After all these years, I should think... " Miss Coffey flinched. "Fine, just fine. I just dropped by to see how Mister Simmons was getting along. I see he's in good company, so I'll run along."
"Nice seeing you, Bess. Mister Simmons wants to talk to me about Linda's school work."
The three of us watched her drive away. "She's Miss Wilson's girl friend. I wonder why she and the old maid broke up?" Linda's facial expression was one of deep puzzlement.
Florence took my arm, pinching me. "Probably over some man, honey. It always is the root cause. Wouldn't you say so, Fred?"
"Probably. Come on, what did you bring to eat? Steaks?"
In the cabin, Florence said, "You two take a quick shower. I'm sure you both need one after all that exercise in the hot sun. I'll start dinner."
"You go first, Linda."
"You could save time," Florence cut in, "by taking one together. I'm sure it will be Linda's first time, with a man anyway."
Linda giggled all the while she soaped me thoroughly, then lingered at the task of lathering my genitals and asscrack. Sliding a soapy finger into my anus, she grinned. "I wonder how it feels to get it up the ass. I gotta try that some time."
I washed her slender body and young breasts with unnecessary thoroughness, pausing to run two fingers up into her vagina, then gingerly pressing my soaped thumb into her rectum. "Ooh!" She tittered. "That does feel good."
Florence was an expert in the kitchen, and soon had dinner on the table. As we ate, I wondered how wide of the mark a casual observer's judgment of these two would be, the mother a charming woman of wit, and the daughter a beautiful demure girl with an infectious laugh. Who would believe they were female sex bombs with hair-trigger pussies?
"That was delicious, Florence," I said, pushing my chair back from the table. "I could stretch out now and sleep for a week."
"Why don't you-stretch out, I mean." She laughed. "I'll help Linda clear the table. While she's doing the dishes, I'll see about that week-long sleep."
"Why don't the two of you do the dishes? I want to get some fresh air." Strolling leisurely, I reached the clearing. It was still light enough to find the used condom. Picking it up, I kicked a hole in the soft dirt beneath a bush, dropped the slimy rubber into it, and covered it. I didn't know whom I might bring up to this choice hideaway the next time. I emptied my bladder, broke wind loud enough to echo against the cabin walls, and strolled back. I was fearful that Florence meant to get into bed with me and play games despite her daughter's presence. Then the horrible thought popped in my mind--maybe because of her daughter's presence! When I walked in, she lay in bed, naked, awaiting me. Linda was drying the last of the dishes.
"Come, darling, let's get in some practice for tomorrow night."
I nodded my head toward the sink. Linda had her back to us.
"She's always wanted to watch. I told her she could tonight. Hurry, get your clothes off."
My cock was hardening, crawling down the inside of my thigh, as I stood regarding her naked beauty, the firm breasts with their tantalizing pink nipples, and the glowing fuzziness of her cuntal hair. "Okay," I said. I pulled the knit T-shirt over my head, and unzipped my slacks to let them fall to the floor. My hard cock was straining at the constricting leg band of my Jockey shorts. "Wait," I said as Florence tugged at the waistband. "You mentioned 'practice for tomorrow night'. What's... "
"We're meeting at the Obers' house. Bob has developed some movies he took several weeks ago. They're always a lot of fun." She jerked my shorts over my hips. My cock popped up like an arrow aimed at the ceiling.
"Hasn't he got a beautiful big one, mom?" Linda stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes glittering.
"How do you want it, baby?"
"'Did you ever take it up the ass, mom?" Florence snorted. "This monster?" The smile vanished from her face. "Say, you didn't try that on Linda?"
"I've got more sense than that."
"Fred and I saw Mister Warren giving it to Willie Dearborn this afternoon... "
"My God! It's true then! We'll have to do something about that."
"We'll see. Right now... " I slid into bed and nuzzled her breast flesh.
"Why don't you get on top, mom? That's fun." I glanced at Linda. She was pulling her dress over her head. "Ooh! I'm gonna love seeing this."
"Lie on your back, honey," Florence said. "We don't have much time tonight, but I want this one very much." She squatted on her haunches, her hand guiding my cockhead into her wet, hairy slit, moistening it, then pressuring down on it. I watched the swollen crown disappear, and raised my hips to thrust it up into her as she lowered herself. The shaft moved slowly inch by inch until it finally vanished, and I felt her wet cuntal lips rest on my scrotum. In a side glance at Linda standing close by, I saw her fingering her downy mound as she stared open-eyed at the junction of our genitals. With Florence's up stroke, I could see her blood-rich cuntal lips drawn down by the thick shaft of my cock.
"Ooh!" Linda moaned. "I gotta get in on this. Do you mind?"
Before either of us could answer, she jumped into bed, knelt facing her mother, and straddled my face. "Come on, Fred, kiss it." I looked up at her wide-spread slit, the small, round vaginal hole oozing juicily. I put my hands up outside her hips and around her buttocks to guide her cunt down to my thirsty mouth. I couldn't see Florence, but I could feel her inner muscles clutching at my throbbing cock at the top and the bottom of her rhythmic strokes. Their moans and cries sounded dim and muffled to my ears, clamped between Linda's thighs. We all were moving faster as we felt the currents of delight building within us. Sounding far off, Florence's voice was a harsh whisper. "I'm coming! Linda, baby, suck my titties." My cock spurted geysers of semen up into her as she bucked and ground down on it, while I sucked hungrily at the spate of juices flowing from Linda's vagina. It was weird, delightful, delirious.
Linda collapsed on the bed, her legs flailing over my head. Florence was still pronged on my rapidly softening prick. A sudden noise like the scuffling of feet on the porch outside the open window shocked all three of us. "Get off! Quick!" I rolled out from under Florence, grabbed the flashlight from the table beside the bed, and rushed to the door. The sound of running feet on the gravel drive was positive proof that someone had watched us. I couldn't hope to catch the prowler, not in my bare feet.
"Who was it? Did you see?" They were both in the open doorway.
"No." I walked over to the window, lighting the floor of the porch with the flashlight. Directly under the window frame were splotches of ejaculation. "Someone saw the whole performance," I said bitterly, "and left his calling card."
"Oh, my God! Who do you think it was?" Florence asked tearfully.
"I wouldn't be surprised if Mister Warren had returned our visit to his place this afternoon."
"Oh, this is awful!" Florence began to cry. "They can put us all in jail."
"How's he gonna say anything, mom? We saw him fucking Willie up the ass!"
"Come on, you two. Get showered and dressed and get the hell away from here as soon as possible."
"We'll dress, no shower," Florence said. "I'll get rid of this load before I drip it all over the place."
They were ready to leave in less than ten minutes. "Fred, if you hear anything from this tomorrow, call me at home right away." Florence slid into the driver's seat. She said, with an attempt at humor, "It was a marvelous performance, whoever the audience was."
"We'll see what comes of this. Bob Ober's house at eight? Might as well go all the way now. Goodnight to you both. It was fun while it lasted."
I had stepped out of the shower, and was toweling myself dry, when I heard a car pull up in front. I donned a terry robe, and hurried to the door.
"Well!" Bess Coffey said as she crossed the threshold, a sly smile on her face. "You three had a long conversation."
"Yes," I replied, "I enjoy their company. Linda is a very intelligent girl, and her mother... " She pushed past me, headed for the bed. "I hope you three were on your good behavior when Mister Warren was up here."
"So it was he!"
"I'm sure it was. I turned to the left when I drove out, instead of going to the highway. I was parked behind a clump of bushes, waiting for mother and daughter to leave. I recognized his car when he parked a hundred yards or so before getting to your drive, and saw him skulk through the bushes up towards your cabin."
"Damn him! I could... "
"Be careful of him, Fred. He's a vicious old man. Anyway, I'm sure he won't be back. Help me with this zipper, honey. I came to spend the rest of the night."
"Oh, my aching balls!" I muttered.
"What did you say, darling?"
"My bladder calls. Excuse me, Bess. Here, I'll release the zipper. Make yourself comfortable. What a delight it is to see you. And how I need to make love tonight. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Obers' home was a spacious four-bedroom, three-bath structure of glass and redwood, located on a hill in the center of four acres of wooded land on the western edge of town. When I arrived, Florence met me at the door, a martini in her hand, and anguish in her eyes.
"Did you hear anything yet? God! I haven't been able to rest a minute since last night."
"Nothing so far. Pull yourself together, Florence. You look like you've been seeing horror movies."
"Come in, Fred," Bob Ober greeted me, his hand extended. "Glad you could make it." He put his arm around Florence. "I think we'll show him a real time tonight, eh?"
"He'll love the movies, I'm sure. I'll show him where you keep the poison, Bob. Looks like the Dearborns are coming."
She led me down a long hallway to a large lounge room with a wall of sliding glass panels looking out on a patio multi-colored flower beds. Bayard and Aimee Jones were strolling about the apron of the pool, holding hands, and carrying on a lively conversation. Susan Ober entered the room as I lifted a martini glass.
"Hello, Fred. So nice to see you again."
"Thank you, Susan. Where did you send Alice off to tonight?"
"She's staying with Linda. Well, what do you think of our little town by this time."
"Plenty sexy, as they say back home."
She chuckled. "Come now, you Iowa farmers enjoy a little of it on occasion, or do you only watch the animals at it in the breeding pens?"
The progress of the Dearborns down the long hall could be measured by the increasing volume of Will's loud talk and laughter. Evidently he had had a few preliminary jolts at home. "Hey!" he bellowed on entering the room. "I see we're the last ones to arrive as usual. Bob, let's all have a drink, and get the movies rolling."
"Help yourself, Will. Somebody call Bayard and Aimee. I'm all set up."
Aimee's dark-brown eyes glowed as she greeted me, and Bayard's gleaming teeth showed as he smiled warmly. "So nice to see you again, Fred."
I settled in a comfortable, leather lounge chair, with Florence perched on a hassock beside me. The others were seated, facing a large glass-beaded screen set up at the end of the room. The projector was on a bridge table before the fireplace. "Everybody settled down? Everybody have a drink?"
"Shoot," Will called out. "Which one is this, Bob?"
"Asshole night!" Bob's loud laugh was echoed by others around the room.
As the lights went out, a title flashed on the screen: FUCK THE NIGHT AWAY-HARDER VALLEY STYLE. The movie was in color, and opened with a shot of a woman's bare feet, spread shoulder-width apart, then traveled slowly up the back of her calves, her knees, her thighs, zeroing in on her ass-crack, heavily befurred with crinkly, black hair. The Vaseline smeared around her anus glinted in the bright light of the spots. Backing away from the close-up, we saw the entire figure of Susan bent forward over the back of a chair, her blonde head turned to enable her to grin at the camera lens.
The camera panned back down her legs to the floor and across the carpeted surface to pick up the bare feet of a man, up his hairy thick legs to his genitals for a close-up. His hand clutched his stiff prick. Again the camera backed off to take, in the whole male figure. "Hey! That's me!" Will cried out happily. "Boys, watch this." The lens followed his slow walk across the room, moved in for a side view of his stiff cock as it pressed into Susan's crack. Her hands came around to spread her buttocks. As the cock pressured for entry, the camera switched to a close-up of Susan's face, the grin gone, and a flicker of pain in her eyes. Her lips parted in a silent "OH!" Will was into her now. The picture switched to a view of the two figures, showing the start of a slow copulating rhythm, her ass moving back against him as his cock thrust forward. His hands were around her waist, fingers digging into her clitoris. Quick close-ups, first of Susan's face, smiling with joy, then of Will's visage alight with a mixture of pleasure and concentration. They were bucking and rutting now, with obvious delight approaching orgasm. The camera caught the glazed eyes and open mouth of Susan as she reached climax, and the wild movement of her hips as they rotated and ground against Will's lower belly.
"Man! What about that?" Will called out gaily. "I still remember every moment of it."
Though the room was dark, I could see Florence's left hand up under her dress, moving stealthily. Her other hand had opened my zipper, and was working my stiff prick loose of its constrictions. "Whom do I draw tonight?" I asked in a whisper.
"I think it's Jane." She had freed my cock of shorts and slacks, and kissed it tenderly, laving the wetness from the meatus. I paid little attention to the next sequence, the same technique being used. This time the woman was Jane, and when the close-up of her anus came on screen, I was reminded of Linda's description of Willie's posterior. Big, round assholes ran in this family apparently. Bayard Jones gave it to her, his long thick prick looming as large as mine. I glanced around the room. In the flickering light leakage from the projector, I could dimly make out Will Dearborn on his knees before the seated Aimee, his head buried under her dress; Susan Ober knelt in front of Bayard, suckling his prick; Jane Dearborn sat quietly by herself, not watching her performance on the screen, while Bob was paying full attention to the screening process. Meanwhile, Florence was lavishing kisses and nibbles all around the base of my cock, sniffing at my hairy belly and thighs. "Careful, honey. I don't have any to spare tonight."
"Just a wee drop for a thirsty lass, please."
Some of the others were half undressed. "Knock it off, honey. I mean it." I leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Miss you-know-who came back after you two left last night."
"Oh, you poor boy, you!" She chuckled softly. "I bet she sucked off a month's supply. And after what the two of us did to you!"
"She saw Warren. Recognized him and his car."
"I was beginning to get interested in the night's activities. Why did you have to tell me now?" She rose. "Who's going to take me where tonight?" she asked softly.
"Me, baby," Bob replied. Go into the master bedroom and make yourself comfortable. "The movie'll be over in a minute." He leaned over to say to me, "Jane's paired with you tonight, Fred. She can show you the bedroom next to the master suite."
Jane got up and beckoned to me. "Had enough of this?"
"Yes. Let's go."
It was a large room with two double beds, ceiling mirrors over each. The covers were laid back on one of them. A lamp on the night table shed a soft, warm light. She turned her back to me. "Unzip me, please." She was undressed and in bed before I had removed my sports shirt. Her small tits no longer had the firm muscles of her youth. In response, the musculature of her face sagged a bit. The blonde hair of her mound, of a fine and silky texture, matched that of her head.
"Any preference," I asked, grinning down at her in an attempt to bring her to a warm responsive mood.
"No vaginal intercourse." She sounded as though she were discussing clinical details with her doctor. "I nearly died when Willie was born. No more pregnancies for me." When I finally stood naked beside the bed, she showed no interest in my genitals. I lay down on the edge, reached out to touch her smooth belly, fingering down into her pubes. "Have you had a chance to size up Willie? Isn't he a very bright young man?"
"Well... " I played with the fuzzy hair above her clitoris while I tried to think of something to say.
"Well?" She repeated.
"Have you had him to the doctor for a complete physical this past year?" Any medical man who missed the significance of that enlarged asshole, I thought, should be barred from practice.
"Why do you say that?" She raised up to lean on her elbow and regard me with eyes opened wide in searching question.
"I don't know," I answered haltingly, "he just seems a little sluggish, very little pep one usually sees in a boy his age. Also, he's on the fat side, I believe."
"Oh!" She lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling, oblivious of my index finger probing her dry slit. "Will is always after him about something. The poor boy has gotten so nervous, he fidgets constantly whenever they're together."
"What does he do on nights like this, when you and Will are away from home?"
"He reads mostly. He likes to be by himself." She turned her head to give me an apologetic smile. "We're supposed to be doing something. I wouldn't want Will to think I wasn't being cooperative. What would you like, have me suck you off? You could put it between my breasts and I could do it that way. Or up the ass? I don't mind."
"Say!" I whispered with enthusiasm, my interest aroused at last. "I never tried it that way. Don't we need some Vaseline?"
She rolled over, stuffing two pillows beneath her belly. "No, that won't be necessary. Just wet the head of it." She looked back at me, and warned, "Not in my vagina, though."
I straddled her buttocks.
"Get your knees between my thighs." Her fingers spread her asscheeks, as I wet the head of my prick with gobs of saliva. "Okay," she said. "Take it easy at first." I glanced down at her puckering ring, saw it open up, pink and round and relaxed. I was astonished at the ease with which I entered her, and astounded to feel her sphincter close around the coronal ridge with the skillful delicate touch of elfish fingers.
"Hey! That's good!" Her laughter was light and gleeful. My right hand slipped under her belly to forage in her pubic hair, fingers finding the feathery part at the top of her slit. It was wet!
"Give it to me," she pleaded. "All of it, slow and loving-like." Her asscheeks moved back as I probed deeply into her until I felt my scrotum rest on her moist hairy cuntal lips. "That feels wonderful!" She gasped, then tightened her sphincter around the base of my cock. "Make it last, honey. I love it. Warn me to stop if you get too close."
I'm not sure if my lengthy performance was due to my skill, or to the fact that I had had so many orgasms these past few days that I remained stiff and alive in her for more than hour. Several times we had suspended movement while one or the other backed off from imminent explosion. She was definitely in her element, delighting in every moment, while I marveled at her expertise. Poor little Willie! I thought, what a master performer he had chosen to emulate! We reached the final peak at last, the lovers' leap point from which there is no retreat. With my cock pounding into her depths and her buttocks thrusting against my belly, we throbbed out our wild and weird orgasmic climax.
I hurried into the shower lest I stain the clean sheets with the brown-streaked slime glistening on my soft penis. She joined me in the shower in a couple of minutes, and we soaped and cleansed each other thoroughly.
"So, how was it?" she asked as we toweled off.
"What an experience! Whee!"
Her eyes glowed. "I've gotten to be quite an expert at anal intercourse. I love it. No worries about getting filled with an unwanted child... "
"I had no idea it could be so great," I replied, "but then, who can match your performance?"
"It's early yet. Have you ever fucked a woman between the teats?"
"No. I have a lot to learn."
"Come back to bed. It's a joy any woman would appreciate teaching a young man with such a magnificent big prick."
As I knelt over her, my asscrack touching her warm flesh, and my hardened cock lying snugly in the cleft of her breasts, I wondered how I should ever have learned the many delights of the varied practices of oral, anal, and cuntal sex without such competent teachers I had found in this little town of Harder Valley. The tip of my penis lay close to her chin, dripping liquid spider-like threads into the hollow of her throat. "Move up a little, honey, and let me get this in my mouth." I slid forward, felt her tongue, smooth and cat-like, lap the tender meat of my crown, then sensed the warmth of her suckling mouth as it closed over the throbbing bulbous head. Her arms, held close to her sides, pressed the flesh of her tits together to encase the shaft, while her fingers tingled my lower spine. I had to adjust the length of my stroke, shortening its normal thrust, to avoid pulling it out of her mouth.
"I won't last long at this rate," I said.
The nodding of her head resulted in an unbearable spasm of nervous delight at the underside of my coronal ridge. "That did it. I can't stop it!" Again she nodded, suckling strongly, engorging a larger portion as I sensed the currents merging into a mighty surge of liquid joy pumping through my prostate to explode in successive bursts in her vacuuming mouth. As my cock shriveled, she gobbled all of it into her mouth, tonguing and drawing at it like an addict with an opium pipe.
"Good to the last drop," she said, releasing it.
"Jane, honey, you're just great." I lay beside her, stroking the flesh of her breasts. "In a minute, I want to do something for you. May I eat it?"
Her arm encircled my shoulder, drawing my face into her teats. "Yes. I'd like that."
I liked it too.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I kept to myself all day Sunday, grateful for the chance to rest and relax, and recover from the sex orgies I had been involved in the preceding week. I spent several hours up on the knoll, bathing in the sun, feeling the warmth permeate every tissue of my body. At eight o'clock in the evening, I went to bed and slept soundly until seven the next morning.
On entering school, I passed Warren coming out of the teachers' lounge. He nodded, his face contorted with an evil smirk. 'You sonofabitch!' I muttered, loud enough for him to hear, but he walked rapidly away.
In class, I found myself studying my students with a new interest. Besides Linda, Alice Ober, Bayard Jones, Jr., and Willie Dearborn, with whose parents I had shared two weird and wild sex orgies, I wondered how many other youngsters had fathers and mothers who played these games. Linda no longer displayed her pussy to her favorite teacher. Alice still flaunted her pointed breasts toward me, occasionally giving me an open view of her thighs and panties. Willie seemed listless, and worn out. I could well understand why--Warren must have drained him of every ounce of reserve last Saturday night.
I got through the day with ease, forgetful of Warren's threat from his presence on my porch last Friday night. A minute before the final bell sounded to end my last class, Miss Wilson's secretary brought me a note, requesting my appearance in the principal's office.
"She's waiting for you," Miss Jones said as I stepped into the reception room.
"Come in, Mister Simmons," Miss Wilson called from behind her desk. "Close the door, please."
I kept my hand on the knob for a moment. Keep your cool! I told myself. Think before you speak.
"Sit down!" Her voice and her expression were as sour as a Marine drill sergeant's.
I watched every line in her face as she examined a typed paper on the desk before her. After a prolonged silence, she raised her glance to my face, carefully avoiding looking into my eyes. If she had intended to intimidate me by her studied silence, she failed. I was angry. "Okay, Miss Wilson, what's this all about?"
"My! Aren't we flip?"
I bit the end of my tongue to keep it still.
"For a young man in deep trouble--and I mean real deep trouble--you are a cool one."
I waited while she dragged this moment out to the breaking point. "What kind of trouble, Miss Wilson? Suppose you tell me, and stop sitting there like the hanging judge."
She snorted. "I must say! The kind of trouble that puts snotty young sex perverts behind prison walls."
"Would you repeat that, please? Let me call in Miss Jones so she can make an official record of this conversation. This is slander, and I insist on a certified copy of the statement you just made."
Her eyes blinked. I had hit where it hurts. Her fingers touched the paper on her desk, fluttering and jerking. Whatever information she had was obviously not quite as convincing now in view of my demand for a public record. I hit her again with a hard demand for the source of her knowledge on which she based her charge. She lowered her gaze as if the details were too shameful. "You have been accused of having sexual intercourse with the mother of one of your girl students, and, simultaneously, of performing cunnilingus on the young girl herself." She paused. When I made no immediate answer, she asked, "Well, what do you say to that?"
I had decided that my only chance to get out of this mess was to bulldoze my way directly over her and her informer. "That's a goddamned lie, Miss Wilson!"
She raised her eyes toward the ceiling as if to placate the deity. "One may expect profanity instead of proof in every one of these cases. You'll have your chance when I present this information to the Board."
"Good! That's evidently a letter supplying this information to you. Who signed it?"
Hesitating a second, she blurted out, "You'll learn that when you're called before the Board."
I studied her with seemingly cold indifference, then asked quietly, "What's the penalty, Miss Wilson, for a teacher who gets involved with a student-sexually, I mean?" Her eyes widened, and she gulped, but was silent. "Come on, Miss Wilson, you've been around here for a long time. You know all about these things. In your own experience, say, haven't you... " Her lips trembled.
"Look!" I caught her eye, made sure she saw the meaningful smile on my face. "I know you're madder than hell at me. I wasn't responsible for the unhappiness you've had recently, believe me." I let that sink in. "Now, about that letter. It's anonymous, isn't it?"
She was close to tears as she lowered her head, and nodded.
"And you're going before the Board with that kind of unsigned tripe?" From her expression, or what I could see of it, I knew I had her beaten. Quietly, and as sincerely as I could make it sound, I added, "Here's the truth. I had Missus Downs and her daughter, Linda, visit me last Friday night, unannounced and uninvited. Fortunately for me, I also had another guest present the whole time they were there. This person is a local resident, of unimpeachable character, who will testify that no such frightful sex orgy took place." Again I waited but received no response. "Miss Wilson, you know who wrote that letter, don't you?"
"No."
"The typewriter on which it was written can be easily traced. This is a small town... " She nodded. I was sure she had made her own check-up, and had discovered type similarities in letters and notes in her files.
"I'm quite certain I know who would do such a thing. Also his motive for doing it."
"Why?"
I gave her a wide, knowing smile. "I'll let my lawyer handle that when it becomes necessary."
She looked directly at me for a long moment. "I'd wait before I hired a lawyer, Mister Simmons. Let me check further into this."
"Be my guest."
I sauntered across the parking lot, kicking real and imaginary pebbles before me. "Damn you, Bess Coffey," I muttered, "you better come through for me."
CHAPTER NINE
I should have called her before barging in on her, but I had thrown away the slip on which she had written her phone number and address. I had had no intention of getting in touch with her, after she had returned last Friday night to keep me awake into the small hours with insatiable demands against which my weary penis and drained testicles had finally rebelled. I had awakened with the rising sun to find her nibbling and gnawing at me again, until I had jumped out of bed, angry and sickened with her. "For Christ's sake!" I had shouted, "let me have a little peace, will you?" She had stared at me with eyes cold as chipped ice, then rose, dressed in a few minutes, and was gone.
I needed her now.
I had waited till the sun had set this evening and twilight had blurred the outline of the pine trees and shrubs outside, before I started the drive into town. I stopped at the hamburger stand to wolf down two sandwiches and a cup of coffee. Night had fallen, wrapping the town in inky blackness, by the time I set out to find the studio apartment building she had described as being located on Elm Street, one block off Main. It was a two-story frame and stucco structure, with a long balcony fronting the parking spaces in front. I remembered her saying she had a second-floor apartment. Climbing the concrete stairs, I could smell the mixture of greasy odors still clinging to the building after the recent dinner hour. Her apartment was located at the far end as indicated by the small card in the brass frame screwed into the door at eye level. The Venetian blinds were drawn across the three windows, but I could detect light shining through the closed slats. I knocked lightly. There was no answer. I knocked again, this time loudly. "Bess!" Again I knocked, waited. Damn it! I muttered. "Open up. Be there. You have to be there!" With no answer to my fourth rapping, I walked back downstairs, and sat in my car, keeping an eye on her door. She could be shopping, I thought, glancing up and down the street.
For more than fifteen minutes, I sat, cursing her and Warren and everybody and everything that had brought me to this miserable mess. A shaft of light appeared in the crack of her opened door, and I saw her face as she peered out. The door was opened wider, and a young man in overalls slunk out and scurried down the stairway. He jumped into the old car parked next to mine. I got a good look at his face as he turned on his lights. Thin and sharp-featured, with long tousled hair, he could be no more than twenty. He looked sweaty, and badly in need of a bath. I waited until he had driven away, got out, and climbed the stairs. The door was opened with the safety chain in place after my second knock.
"Why, Fred!" She removed the chain, and swung the door wide. "Have you been here long?"
"No." In a quick glance, I noted the thin robe tied about her slender figure, and the unmade, rumpled bed behind her. "I just now climbed up here. May I come in for a minute?"
Her eyes narrowed, emphasizing the wrinkles at the corners. "Why not? Come in." She closed the door after me. "Have a seat somewhere." The room was in a mess, with rapidly discarded clothes thrown about on chairs. She picked up panties and brassiere from one of the straight-backed seats. "Well, what brings you to my lovely new home?"
"You remember last Friday night?" From the hurt look that clouded her eyes, I knew how stupid my opening remark had been.
"Yes," she replied. "Don't remind me. I'll never forget it."
"I'm sorry, Bess. Really. Look, I'm in trouble. I need help."
She laughed. The sound was more like the fart of a horse. "So, what do you want me to do?"
"You remember that bastard, Warren. He's sent an anonymous letter to Miss Wilson accusing me of all kinds of things with Missus Downs and her daughter, Linda."
Amusement glinted in her eyes, and a sly smile crossed her face. "None of which you did, of course... "
"Of course not. We... "
"I could fix everything up if I said I was there every minute they were, and nothing like the conduct as alleged took place."
"Yes. Exactly."
"I could be guilty of perjury for making such a statement."
"Yes. But do you want to see Warren get away with something like this? Jee-sus! It could ruin me."
She put thumb and forefinger to her lips, wetting them with the tip of her tongue. "I hate that miserable man. He's always been a favorite of hers." She walked over to a knee-hole desk against the wall, lifted a typewriter case from the floor. "Let me see. That was Friday, September... " A small calendar on the desk top supplied the correct date. Without another glance at me, she opened the case, put paper into the typewriter, and sat down. Pausing several times in her typing to formulate a sentence, and once to make an erasure, she completed the page, read it through, then pulled it from the machine. "There, that should do it." She handed it to me.
I read it quickly. It was brief and clear, admitting of no misinterpretation, stating that she had arrived at the cabin a minute or two after Mrs. Downs and her daughter, helped carry the groceries, assisted in the preparation of dinner, after which we had sat talking until ten-thirty, at which time the Downs and she had left. She had followed Mrs. Downs' car all the way into town. "In conclusion, I wish to state that I have never passed a more enjoyable evening with such charming conversationalists. Signed... "
"This is beautiful, Bess. Exactly what I need."
"Care for some coffee, Fred?"
"No thanks. I have to get home. Have a big day ahead of me."
"You needn't go." Her eyes glittered. Her tongue wetly outlined her lips. "You could stay here."
"If you don't mind, Bess. Some other time. If you'll just sign this, I'll be on my way." She didn't take the paper which I held out to her.
"Stay and have some coffee. It won't take me more than a few minutes. Sit down, Fred. You're jittering all over the place."
I avoided the vicinity of the bed, remained seated on the single chair while she made the coffee, set out cups and saucers. If I have to, I thought, I'll give her a quick hop--anything to get that paper signed. She handed me a cup, took one herself, then squatted on the floor before me. "I don't know what's come over me, honey. Ever since you gave it to me so good that first night, I've been so hot I could screw the first man I see on the street."
"Try masturbating. That helps." I sounded like a sidewalk psychiatrist.
"I do that--all day long. At work every day, I go into the toilet several times in the morning, several times in the afternoon. I carry a rubber wienie in my purse, and I shove it up in me and play with myself till I come. Five minutes later I feel like doing it all over again."
This woman's nuts, I thought, looking down into her staring eyes. She needs more than a man with a first-aid kit.
"Look, Bess. Let's get undressed and go to bed. I promise you a good one, a real good one."
She leaped up. "I'm already undressed. See?" The zipper slid down the front of the robe faster than my eye could follow, and she stood before me naked as a lily.
"Okay. Sign the paper. Then I'll get in bed."
Backing away from me, she beckoned with a crooked index finger. "Oh no! Come to bed, darling. I'll sign that in the morning. I promise."
I stood up, tempted to leave and chuck everything up for grabs. She lay in the middle of the messed up bed, and held out her arms. "Fred, honey. Just think what it will mean to show that to your friend Miss Wilson. And think of the sneaky Warren... " That was the only thing I could think of as I dropped my clothes to the floor. There was no doubt in my mind that poor Bess Coffey was seriously sick in the head. What good would her paper be in that case? Yet, if I could use it tomorrow effectively, I could prevent the pot from boiling over, perhaps even shut off the fire completely. I got into bed with the same degree of enthusiasm a condemned man exhibits when sitting in the gas chamber.
My thighs slid over several wet gluey splotches on the bedsheet. Ugh!
Her hand clasped the back of my head. "Fred, honey, you never did go down on me. Or did you? I forget. Anyway, I love that. Eat it, please."
With no preliminaries, I nosed into her slit to find it slimy and stinking with the stench of stale cunt juice. The cloudy gray drops of seminal discharge oozed from her vagina. I gagged. Waiting a moment, I knelt upright. Her eyes were glazed, her jaw slack. A silly smile lifted the corners of her mouth. I got out of bed and dressed in a hurry. The unsigned paper lay on the desk. I picked it up and crossed over to the bed. Perhaps she was disoriented as to time as well. It was worth a try.
"Bess!"
She turned her face, her eyes trying to focus on me. "Bess, I made good on what I promised. You've been sucked and fucked and had it every which way."
"It was good, wasn't it?"
"Wonderful. Now how about your signing this paper for me?" She stared at me. "Which paper?"
"This one. You know, you promised in writing to go to bed with me every night for the next month. Here. Sit up."
I lifted her, placed pillows against the headboard, and settled her back on them. She was in a complete daze. "Here's the pen. Wait, I'll get something to write on." I took a thick magazine from the table, put the paper on it. "All right, dear. Sign right there." I hoped the signature she scribbled would be fairly recognizable and genuine. I put my arm around her shoulders, and removed the pillows. "You need rest, honey. Try to sleep."
"I'm so tired... so tired... " She was soundly asleep in a moment or two. I checked to make sure there were no electric appliances plugged in, and the gas jets were turned off. I returned to the bed, and lifted the covers up over her. She needed help. I couldn't leave her there, helpless and sick. I couldn't call Miss Wilson. I knew none of Bess's friends. Then I remembered. Florence worked for the same law firm.
She answered the phone on the second ring. I told her briefly the situation. She promised to come right over.
I stood in the open doorway to greet her five minutes later. In brief, I told Florence about the threat of Miss Wilson this afternoon to use the information about our party at the cabin last Friday night, and of my decision to bluff through the matter by obtaining a statement from Bess. "She's a very sick girl, Florence. Perhaps she should be in a mental hospital right now."
"You run along, Fred, and stay out of this. I'll stay here with her, and call her boss the first thing in the morning--sooner, if necessary. I won't mention your being here. Kiss me, Fred, darling, and good luck."
I sat in the car for some time, staring up at the closed door. How quickly her mind had passed from the ordered logic that had produced in a few minutes a clearly worded statement, to a state bordering on complete mental collapse. Maybe there was more truth than vulgarity to the old saw, "You can fuck your brains away." That seemed to be the way in which I was headed.
CHAPTER TEN
On the way to school this morning, I stopped at the first gas station, and dialed the number I had noted on the phone in Bess's apartment last night. After six rings there was no answer. I then dialed Florence's home. Linda answered. No, her mother went out to visit a sick friend late last night, and still wasn't home.
Certain now that Bess had been hospitalized, I determined to press my bluff immediately. On arrival at school, I went directly to Miss Wilson's office. She greeted me coolly. "There isn't much time before first class, Mister Simmons."
"I only need two minutes." I plucked the folded paper from my pocket, and waved it across her desk. "That's a signed statement from the person who was present on the night your informant tells you he witnessed certain criminal acts at my cabin... "
"I've given this matter much thought, Mister Simmons, and I've decided I can't present anonymous charges so grave as this to the Board. So, unless I have some substantial evidence submitted by a responsible person, you can consider this matter closed."
"You might talk with the person who wrote that letter. I know that you know who it is." She stared at me impassively, except for the flutter of an eyelid. "And when you talk to this gentleman, you might inquire into his passion for pederasty."
Her hand clutched at her throat. "Wh... what are you saying?"
"It's in the dictionary, Miss Wilson. That's one phase of homosexuality only men seem equipped to enjoy." I glanced back at her from the door. She sat still, her face pallid, her hand still clawing at her throat.
At noon, I called Florence at her office, and was told she was at home for the day. I dialed her number and she answered on the first ring.
"Fred, I was expecting you to call."
"What happened?"
"Oh, my God! It was horrible, just horrible... "
"Well tell me... "
"She slept through the night, although several times she shouted and cried in some nightmare. Then, at six or a little after, she woke up screaming, 'Alice you took my baby! I want my baby! She wouldn't let me near her-thought I was Alice. Fred you never... "
"She went completely out of her mind... "
"I called her boss, Mister Bourdet. He came over in twenty minutes. Doctor Shambaugh was with him. He gave her a shot that knocked her out. The ambulance was there in fifteen minutes. I rode to the hospital with her."
"Did the doctor say what he thought?"
"A mental breakdown. We took her to the County Hospital Psychiatric Section. I didn't get home until after nine."
"Jesus! That was a real shocker."
"I'm worn out. Linda just came home for lunch. I told her she could spend the night with Alice Ober-Bob and Susan are up in L.A. for a couple of days. I'm going to bed and stay there for twenty-four hours."
"Thanks for coming over there last night, Florence. I'll phone you tomorrow."
I was still shaking a few minutes later when Mrs. Johnson stopped me in the hall. She had an impish grin on her face.
"Hi, Fred! Did you hear the two buddy-buddies had a falling-out?"
"Who?"
"Miss Wilson called Mister Warren into her office at recess this morning. Miss Jones told me she couldn't hear anything because the door was closed, but they were shouting at each other. Warren came flying out of the office, ran to his car, and drove away."
"What about his classes?"
"Miss Wilson took over. She looks like a wreck."
I didn't wait around to see Miss Wilson. As soon as my last class had ended, I got away from there. The image of Bess Coffey and her haunted, glazed eyes was stuck in my mind. I stopped at the liquor store, bought a six-pack of beer, and drove home. I wanted peace and solitude. And I wanted to get drunk. Changing my clothes, I slipped on my walking shorts and a pair of sandals, took my six-pack and a bottle opener, and strolled up to the knoll.
The sun was delightfully warm, and a soft breeze stirred the tall grass and bushes. I took off my shorts, stretched out, and opened a bottle of beer. How much responsibility did I bear in Bess Coffey's mental collapse? The beer was cold and refreshing, but no help in solving this nagging question. I opened the second bottle, then the third. By this time, I began to see that she had been the one who forced herself on me. Perhaps I should have been more understanding, less brutal. Perhaps... I finished off the last three bottles. It was perfectly clear to me now, that Alice Wilson bore the complete guilt for what had happened to Bess Coffey. It was also quite clear that I was completely drunk. Shit! Let Alice-in-Wonderland worry about it!
I slept.
I dreamed I was in a fairyland. Birds chirped. Elves played in the shadows beneath the green bushes. Yellow buttercups covered the grassy fields. Butterflies fluttered over the blossoms, straying to fly over my naked body, warmed by the sun, their wing-tips touching my sensitive flesh, titillating now this now that tender area into spasms of tingling delight. The feel of fairy fingers, light as fluff, feathering over my genitals, rousing cock-flesh to throbbing awareness, fairy lips in loving caress of my belly my chest, setting glowing fires sweeping through every fiber of my body-I am awake in a world of dreamy delight, awake to a fairy in all her naked loveliness hovering over my risen staff, her long black tresses dangling over my belly as her tongue-tip laves my tingling crown. 'Ah! Love me, my Linda, darling!' I murmur, 'love me!' And now I am aware of the shining face of a naked blonde fairy, close to my face, so close her lips are warm on mine, her breath sweet and fresh as a baby's, her breasts firm with little nubbins hard to my flesh. 'Ah! You too, Alice, my darling, love me love me!' Trembling all over, I think, this is the world I live in, this world of sheer sensuous ecstasy. The crown of my cock is engulfed in a warm, wet suckling enclosure, a tongue-tip brushing an unbearable delight on the sensitive underside. For a moment, the sharp edge of reality cuts into my dream as I look up see a vaginal slit close to my face, the blonde, fuzzy lips gleaming with dew. Could this be for real? Perhaps I do not dream. Perhaps these are not... Perhaps... The clean, healthy smell of cunt is in my nostrils, the erotic taste of vaginal juice on my tongue. Perhaps... Who cares? The world is one big FUCK, SUCK, FUCK, SUCK! I reach up to clutch the soft flesh of asscheeks. My tongue laves the tasty dew from swollen lips, burrows into the wet, juicy hole to suck while my hands seek to steady the bouncing, bucking hips. Everywhere I feel the fires warming me, tingling, coursing down and up into my genitals. I suck at these hairy lips in my mouth while I sense the wild drawing suckling of my throbbing cock. Come! I mutter, come! The word is smothered in folds of moist flesh as currents of delight pound and surge up through my cock, exploding with maddening ecstasy. I am at peace and again I sleep.
I feel the sun, warm on my belly, and the soft touch of hands. I open my eyes. Linda lies beside me, on my right, her head nestled on my chest. Alice Ober is on my left, her breasts touching my biceps. I jerked myself into a sitting position. "For Christ's sake! I thought I was dreaming!"
"Some dream," Linda said, chortling. "It was sure a wet one."
"How did you two get out here?"
"I drove mom's car," Alice replied. "They're up in L.A." I got to my feet, unsteadily. "You two must leave. Right this minute."
"Why?" Linda asked. She lay stretched out on her back, looking up at me with glittering eyes. "I didn't come yet. That was Alice you sucked off."
"I don't know who it was. I thought I was dreaming. I'm a little drunk. I don't want to get caught in any mess with two of my girl students."
"You're fun when you're drunk," Linda said. "Come on, honey, lie down."
"Who's gonna know?" Alice asked. She sat staring at my genitals. "Man! you sure have a beautiful, big cock!"
I stooped over to pick up my shorts, and sprawled. They both rolled over on me, forcing me onto my back.
"Listen, Mister Simmons. You don't have to worry about either of us telling anyone. Goodness! Do you think I want my mom and dad to know my teacher sucked me off?"
"Sure," Linda added with conviction. "Nobody will ever know. Alice and I have had parties with boys quite a few times. We never told anyone. Besides, we never have a chance to fuck a man with such a satisfying cock. The boys, most of them, have pricks the size of wienies."
"Think, Mister Simmons. We'll have this year and another with you as our teacher. We certainly don't want to see you fired, that's for sure."
"I brought several boxes of condoms, honey." Linda dug them out of the pocket of her dress lying a few feet away. "See!"
I could think of nothing better to say, so I said, "I wish I had another beer."
"Is there any in the cabin?" Linda asked. "There may be two or three in the refrigerator."
"I'll go see." She rose, and started off. "Hey! Put your dress on."
She grinned, held her thumb and forefinger up to signify "okay", slipped her dress over her head, and darted off.
Alice snuggled close to me, ran her hand over my belly, and toyed with my soft cock. "How long does it take for him to get hard again?"
"I don't know. I never timed it."
"Do you like to suck titty?"
"Yes," I said. "Real grown-up titties."
"Don't you think these are big enough?" She raised up on an elbow to place her left breast close to my face.
"You have perfectly beautiful breasts, Alice."
"Try it." She moved the nipple to my lips. "Go on, Please. I get real hot when someone sucks my tit."
I kissed it. I opened my mouth, circled my tongue around the small aureole, sensing the tiny pimples, the hardening of the nipple rising out of the dark-pink ring.
"Ooh! That feels so good! Suck it all up." I tried, but could get only half of it, or less, beyond my lips. She giggled. "See! I told you they were grown-up size. Say! I feel your cock getting hard." I could sense it too, pressing as it swelled into the soft flesh of her hip. My lips moved to her other tit, suckling and nibbling, then down the underside of each breast, marveling at the smooth, yielding softness. Down below into the flat plane of her belly, I tongued my way, tongue-brushing in little circles up and down until she was squealing her delight. Into the silky bush of her hair my lips foraged, separating the part of cuntal lips to open the way for my flicking tongue. "Make me come again, then put it in." Her fingers were twining my hair, tugging at my ears. Her hips were bouncing, bucking her pussy up at my face. "Keep your tongue there... there... Ooh! I'm coming!" I pressed my face into the sweet, tender slit, keeping my nose tight against her clitoris, and in deep draughts drank the spate of her juices. She lay quiet for only a moment, then murmured, "Put the condom on. I want it in me." Kneeling upright, I opened one of the boxes, rolled the end of one of the rubbers down an inch or so, and blew into it to check for holes.
"Spread your legs, Alice, baby." I moved the rubber-clad crown up and down in her soaking slit. "You sure you can take this?"
"Sure." There was a happy smile of expectancy on her face. "This won't be the first time I fucked a grown-up man."
I paused, holding the head of my cock at the opening of her vagina. "Oh?" I pressured against her. It wouldn't go in. She grimaced. "Who was that?"
"Mister Dearborn."
"No!"
"Oh yes! Of course, he's not as big as you down there."
"Relax!" I pushed again. "Spread your legs. Relax!" It still made no penetration. She emitted a sharp little cry. "I don't think you can take it."
"I can. I want it. Go ahead."
I felt her thighs move out and her hips rise to thrust her vagina up to my pressuring cock-head. I felt the crown enter, as though it were crushed in the jaws of a vise. "Oh! Oh, gosh!" She moaned. I glanced down at her face. Sweat stood beaded on her forehead; her lips were twisted in pain. "Are you all right, girl?"
She smiled grimly, and nodded her head.
"We'll rest for a minute. Don't move." I had forgotten about minor children, about school, about the sour old principal. Looking down at the lovely, naked young girl beneath me, at her firm mounds of breast flesh, I was suddenly close to sobriety. I didn't give a damn if the whole Board of Education were present. "When did this happen--I mean with Mister Dearborn?"
"A few months ago. He stopped by the house one afternoon. Said he wanted to talk to dad. I knew he was lying. I had heard dad tell him on the phone earlier that day he and mom were going to be gone until late." She wiped the sweat from her forehead, and smiled. "It doesn't hurt so much now."
"Relax for another minute or so," I said. "It will feel good then. Tell me more about... "
"He came in the house without knocking or anything. I'd taken a shower after a swim, and only had my bathrobe on. Right away I saw his pants bulging at the crotch. I knew what he wanted. I thought, 'Man! Here's your chance to get a man-sized cock into you.' But it wasn't very good."
"Yes?" I wanted to hear the rest of this. She closed her eyes, curled her lips in disgust at the remembrance.
"He didn't waste a minute on the preliminaries--just grabbed me up in his arms, and carried me into my bedroom. He didn't even take his pants off. First thing I knew, I was naked, lying in bed, with him slobbering all over my face. He never even kissed my titties. He tried to shove it up my ass-said he didn't have a rubber. When I wouldn't let him, he fumbled one out of his pocket, put it on, and rammed it into me."
The whole damned Dearborn tribe are nothing but ass-fuckers, I thought. I pushed into her a little.
"It lasted only a minute or less. He blew off, and left me lying there so hot I could've died." She put her hands at the back of my head, and smiled. "Come on, give it to me. I'm all right now." I gave it to her. All of it, slowly, inch by inch, until I bottomed out in her, my scrotum nestled in her warm, moist asscrack.
"Ooh! Gosh! I feel like its filling up my whole insides." Her legs swung up over my back. I throbbed the head of my cock up there inside of her somewhere, felt her anus twitch as she tightened inner muscles around the shaft. "Man! This is way out!"
A loud clapping of hands caused us to turn our heads. Linda stood at the edge of the bushes, two bottles of beer cached under her arms. "Alice, isn't it the most?"
"For gosh sakes, sit down somewhere, and don't interrupt." She held her lips in a pout. "Never mind her. Kiss me. Fuck me."
Linda set the beer down, stripped off her dress, and sat within a few feet of us, stroking her breasts and massaging her mound. We forgot about her. This girl must have read the same book, I thought, as she matched my slow, rhythmic thrusts, rising to meet my probing cock, digging her heels into my back to spur it into deeper penetration, rolling her hips. Suddenly, she ceased all movement as my shaft buried itself in her. "Kiss me. I'm coming!" I held still while she bucked and moaned and cried. I was still stiff and hard within her when she opened her eyes. "Oh!" she cried, "you didn't come yet. I'm so glad. That was only a little one I had." Her eyes gleamed brightly. "You're so sweet! Kiss me." We resumed our slow rhythm. The sun was warm on my back. How delightful it was to do it out in the open, I thought.
"Hey! Alice, save some of him for me. I'm next."
Next! My balls felt as large as an elephant's, swollen with the load that had built up in them. I began to plunge with short, savage strokes that elicited a thrashing response from Alice's asscheeks. We were both moaning, clinging to each other. She mashed her breasts against my hairy chest. "Oh! Oh!" I cried. "I'm coming!"
Her fingernails dug into my back. "I'm coming with you!" Like two locked in a death struggle, we ground into each other, exploding in bursts of pure and savage joy.
Some moments later, Linda said softly. "Better take it out of her before you lose the condom up there." Alice's legs had slipped off my back. I reached down to hold the open end of the rubber while I withdrew. Kneeling upright, I twisted the sack until the cloudy fluid was all concentrated at the closed end. Wiping the outside with the palm of my hand, I examined it closely. "No leaks!"
Alice opened her eyes, wet and shiny. I leaned over to kiss her tits. "Oh, that was marvelous, just unbelievably marvelous!" she whispered.
"I hope you left something for me," Linda said, a little sourly.
"Let me have one of those bottles of beer." I sat, guzzling happily, and finishing it off quickly. "Where's the other one?"
"Here." Linda handed it to me, already opened. "I heard that a man can't get a hard-on when he drinks beer." She glanced at me, obviously hoping for a denial.
"I don't know about that." I drank greedily. I felt as dry as a construction worker laboring in the hot sun all day. "At the moment, all I can say is that I'll be lucky to get this thing up again within a week."
Alice reached over to rub her hand across my belly. "I always knew it would be like that--if I ever found a man to do it like he does. Linda, I came twice--think of that! No! Three times!"
"You should have gone for the beer."
"Wait till I finish this. We'll all go down to the cabin. I have some hamburger. We can shower, and have a bite to eat." I began to get the jitters, sitting there with two naked girls. "God! I hope nobody at school hears about this."
They both threw their arms around me. "You just get hard for me," Linda said. "I swear I won't tell a soul."
"Me neither. Honest!"
I glanced at her, remembering. "You told me about Mister Dearborn!"
"That doesn't count. I don't like him. I like you. He tried to make me once again. I wouldn't let him touch me. But you... " She lowered her face to kiss my belly, then my soft cock. "I want this every time I can get at it."
We showered. Since only two of us could get in at the same time, the girls took turns, first, Alice, laughing as she soaped me all over, then giggling as I lathered her breasts, back, and asscrack. Linda stepped in as Alice got out, and insisted on repeating the soaping performance on every area of my already cleansed body. I washed her with care, spending as much time on her as I had spent on Alice. I wanted to show no favoritism. When does a virile young man have a chance to play sex games with two such lovely young girls? The lengthy shower helped me shake off the effects of the beer.
The sun was setting as we munched hamburgers and washed them down with Cokes. I began to worry about their getting home. "Alice, how can you drive a car without a license?"
"I have a learner's permit."
"But you have to have an adult with you when you drive."
She grinned. "I'll take a chance."
"I don't know... You better leave right after you finish eating. If you do get stopped by the police, it would be better to get caught in daylight than at night."
"We're going to stay here with you tonight," Linda said. "We'll drive in tomorrow morning."
"Oh no!" I eyed the two of them thoughtfully. "I could go to jail for... "
"I tell you what," Alice said. "You drive the car home with us. We have mirrored walls and ceilings in our bedrooms. I always wanted to watch myself while I was doing it. We could swim naked in the pool."
"How would I get back out here tomorrow?"
"Hire a cab." Linda's eyes glowed. "Sure, that's a wonderful idea."
"How about the neighbors?"
"I left the garage door open. We can drive right in. Nobody will see us."
I thought about it for a minute. I couldn't chance anyone coming by and finding the two of them out here late at night. "Okay. Wait a few minutes till I get dressed for school in the morning."
Fearful of being stopped for some minor traffic violation with the smell of beer on my breath, I let Alice drive. Thankfully, we had no problems either with the police or the neighbors. Closing the garage door quickly, we entered the dark house. "Maybe you better leave the lights off, Alice," I suggested.
"Don't be silly, Mister Simmons. Mom's friends all know they're away. Nobody ever stops by."
"Mister Dearborn did."
"Oh, him! He won't ever do that again, after what I told him the last time. Come on, get naked, and let's have a swim."
The night sky was overcast, with only an occasional shaft of moonlight glinting from the surface of the water. Both girls were much better swimmers than I, but it was fun watching their breasts bouncing in the wavelets stirred by the movement of their hands as they trod water close to me, and feeling their lips nibbling like minnows at my genitals as they swam under me. I felt thoroughly relaxed, and recuperated from the sex games of the afternoon.
"Come on," Linda cried. "We're wasting time. Last one out is a you-know-what."
"Want any more beer?" Alice asked as we toweled ourselves beside the pool.
"No, no more."
"Don't get him started again," Linda said sharply. "Remember, it's my turn."
"Let's use mom and dad's room. It's got more mirrors." She flipped the switch on the wall as she led us into the large master suite. Table lamps on either side of the king-sized bed flooded the room with soft, glowing lights.
"Wait a minute," I said anxiously. "How about your parents when they see the sheets?"
"They were just changed today. I'll put on fresh ones in the morning."
There was no headboard on the bed which set against a mirrored wall. Mirrors on the ceiling and on the other wall reflected our naked bodies, arousing all of us with erotic desires. "Wait till I get the condoms," Linda said. She returned shortly with the little boxes, handed them to me. "How do you feel? Gosh, I'm hot, all hot, burning up."
"I think I'll make it. How do you want it tonight-you on top again?"
"No." She lay on her back in the middle of the big bed. "You on top this time. I want to feel your weight, your hairy chest on my tits."
"Let's do this one to music," Alice said. She went into another room, was gone for several minutes. Through the house came the strains of soft Hawaiian music with a slow rhythm of ocean waves breaking on the sandy beach. "That's the start," she said on her return. "The beat picks up later. Dad and mom always turn it on when they go at it. I can always tell when they're doing it."
I didn't know where to look. The mirrored reflections in walls and ceiling tantalized me. It seemed I was nuzzling the tits of the three girls at the same time while another nude blonde stood watching. Linda responded with nervous little giggles, and muscular spasms at every point where my tongue and lips touched. As I kissed my way down from her soft, yielding breasts to her belly and into her pubic hair, she touched the top of my head urging me further. "Love it first, honey. Make me come so I'm good and soaking down there for you." I made her come, but good!
The crown of my cock went into her more easily this time. Perhaps she was no longer afraid of pain, knew she could handle it. She had insisted on lying with her head at the foot of the bed, before I had entered her, moving down so that her hips were close to the mirrored wall when she lifted her legs. As I bottomed out deep within her, she held her head out to one side. "Look at that, Alice! Oh my! I didn't know my cunt could stretch like that."
"I see it." Alice sat in a chair beside the bed, her legs spread, her fingers playing in her widened slit.
"And look up there in the ceiling! Come on, Fred, honey, bury it deep in me. Oh man, oh man! This is the best yet!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I walked to school, arriving early. Awaking a little after six, I had showered and dressed. Linda had opened sleepy eyes to bid me goodbye. "Remember, you two, not a word of this to anyone. Promise?" I kissed her on the forehead. "Be sure and tell Alice everything was wonderful. Also, tell nobody. Be sure." I checked activity on the street before venturing out of the Ober house. There was nobody in sight.
THE 24 HOUR CAFE on Main Street offered me a haven for the next hour or so, and a hearty breakfast. I had been about to leave when Miss Wilson came in.
"Good morning, Miss Wilson. Nice day."
She nodded. I was at the cashier's desk when she called to me. "Mister Simmons." I turned. She motioned for me to come back.
"Yes?" Her eyes were bloodshot as if she had had a bad night with booze or a bad conscience. She looked beyond me, as a condemned man looks over the heads of his executioners. Her lips scarcely moved. "You heard, of course, about Bess Coffey?"
"Yes," I replied after a pause. "Believe me, Miss Wilson, as her closest friend, you have my deepest sympathy. It was shocking news." I waited, unsure whether her vacant stare meant an unspoken dismissal.
"Did you hear about Mister Warren?"
"No." I saw her lips quiver. "What about him?"
She drew a deep breath. "He committed suicide."
"My God!" I sank into a chair at the table. "When?"
"Yesterday. Some time after noon."
We sat staring off into space, neither of us daring to face the verdict we were sure to read in the other's eyes. "Are they certain it was suicide. Maybe... " Her fingers drummed on the table top. "The doctor said he couldn't be sure it was intentional-an overdose of drugs."
"I never heard Warren used drugs... "
"Pain-killing drugs. He had cancer, you know."
"No, I didn't."
Tears filled her eyes. She blinked, but they didn't go away. "They found him two hours or so after I'd called him to my office... to talk to him about... " She looked into my eyes, not with accusation, but with a plea for me to share her guilt. "... you know... "
"Yes," I said. "If I were you, Miss Wilson, I would take no blame whatsoever for this."
Extracting a handkerchief from her purse, she dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "I haven't slept a minute... " Her left hand lay on the table, fingers clenched. I laid my hand over hers. "Listen, please. There is undeniable eyewitness evidence at that charge. It was bound to break any day... whatever you said to him... believe me, I know." She sniffled quietly into her handkerchief. "Will you be all right? Could I see that you get home?"
"I'll be all right." The beginnings of a smile showed on her lips. "Thanks. I was beginning to think I had meddled again in someone's life with disastrous results."
"Not at all. The parents of the boy... Listen, you better let me see you home."
"No, thanks. I have work to do. In circumstances like these, it's best to keep one's mind busy."
As I left, I glanced back. She sat, still staring, unmindful of the waitress standing beside her, pencil poised over her order pad.
Boys and girls stood in groups outside the main entrance, evidently anxious to be the first to break the news to those who might not yet have heard. I paused at the door to glance back. Willie Dearborn strolled alone among the cars in the parking lot, a forlorn and lonely figure. I wonder what Willie will do now? I asked myself.
Class decorum was the worst I had seen. The students could not remain quiet. Even my two little wood nymphs of yesterday paid no attention to me. I gave up. "Students, I'll leave you to yourselves on one condition: that you keep your voices down. Talk all you want among yourselves, but keep it quiet."
I found half of the teachers in the lounge. They, too, had waived the first hour of class. Conversation buzzed among them like angry hornets. Mrs. Johnson approached me as soon as I entered. "Fred! Oh my God! Isn't this terrible. I'll never forgive myself." There were tears in her eyes.
"Why you?"
"I never could stand that man. I thought he was mean and nasty... and all the while he was suffering the pain of the damned with cancer of the bowel. Oh! that must have been simply awful!"
"Be thankful for him then. His suffering's over."
"That's the only sensible way to look at it, I guess."
"Say, by the way. Would it be asking too much for a lift home?"
"Of course not. I'd be glad to."
"It's quite a long way out there. My car wouldn't start this morning. I had to thumb my way to school."
"Sure. See you at two."
"Thanks."
Miss Jones summoned me to the office at noon. "Mister Simmons, there's a long distance call for you. It's person to person. Here's the operator's number. The call's coming from Des Moines."
"That's Cathy Ames, my fiancee." I could feel the warmth spreading all through me. Within three minutes she was on the line.
"Fred! How are you darling?"
"Just fine. What a pleasant surprise. How come? Are you all right?"
"I've never felt better. Ready for a big surprise? What would you say if I told you I was arriving out there this Friday afternoon?"
"Too good to be true... "
"The boss gave me an extra week's vacation."
"Oh, that's marvelous. When are you due in?"
"The shuttle plane from Los Angeles arrives at your airport at two-thirty. That's this Friday, the day after tomorrow. Okay? I'm so anxious to see you. That sounds like a wonderful place you live in. Goodbye, darling."
Mrs. Johnson was waiting for me in her gray Volks when I came out of school. She swung the door open. "Hop in." I watched her handle the car with easy skill.
"You're a good driver, Missus Johnson. Forgive me, but it sounds so silly, being formal like that. What's your first name?"
"Elaine. I thought you'd never ask."
I also began to watch her knees as she used brake and clutch pedals. The action had caused her short dress to rise high on her thighs. She had beautiful legs-lovely, very lovely. Strange I had never noticed before.
"How come you landed out here? You're from Idaho, aren't you?"
"My husband was transferred here two years ago, unfortunately."
"What does he do?"
"Travels. He's a sales engineer."
"How long you been married?"
She turned her head toward me, and smiled. Wryly, I thought. "Sometimes, I'm afraid, I think it's been too long. Four years. We were married in college."
"Oh!" I tried not to make my glance of appraisal too noticeable. Her short, curly hair emphasized the pert profile of nose and chin. Her breasts were full, straining at her tight bra. "You're a very lovely girl," I said.
She cast a quick glance at me, then chuckled. "What brought that on?"
I scanned her figure, then chuckled myself. "I don't know. Just looking at you for the first time, really." I pointed up ahead. "After that culvert up there, turn sharply right."
When she pulled up in front of the cabin, she sat looking out over the rolling hills. "Oh, this is simply beautiful!"
"Come in for a minute while you're here. It's very comfortable." I held the door open and stepped aside.
"I like this." She strolled over to the window. "No one could ask for more. Wake up in the morning, fill your lungs with clean, pine-scented air... Nice! Very nice!"
We stepped out on the porch. "There's about five acres I can walk all over without stepping on somebody's toes. The nearest neighbor is about a mile or so away."
"I love to walk in the woods."
"Come on. Let me show you my favorite spot."
"Good. I don't have much time today, but I want to see what you call your favorite spot. The whole place would be... "
"Yes, but this is something special. Wait till you see it." We went up the hill slowly. She kept inhaling deeply, as if every breath would be her last. "Watch your hair-do on these low bushes. Wait!" I took her arm. The soft swell of her breast was warm and pliant to the back of my hand.
"Oh, Fred! What a perfect retreat." She strolled ahead of me, through the knee-high grass to the center of the clearing where the high grass was flattened. "I can see you make good use of this place."
"Yes, I come up here every afternoon. I love to sunbathe. Not a soul to disturb... " I choked, unable to get another word out. At our feet, lying on top of the trampled grass, was the discarded condom, wrinkled and dried, but still gleaming with the residue of sun-parched juices.
She raised her glance to regard me with a gleeful look. "What's the line: 'Come live with me and be my love, and we shall all the pleasures prove'...?"
"Something like that."
She gave the whole clearing a sweeping glance. "Perfect! Just perfect!"
I opened her door for her. "If you'd like to come out some time... " She put one leg into the car and sat, her knees spread. I could count the lacy loops in her panties.
"I'd love that. You should have asked me yesterday. My husband's coming back about five this afternoon." She put her other leg inside, and I slammed the door. "Don't be surprised if I show up here one of these long afternoons."
I stood with both hands on the door, and stared into her merry eyes. "You're lovely!" Leaning into the car, I kissed her. She showed no surprise. I could sense the movement of her lips beneath mine. "Lovely!"
The tip of her tongue touched the contour of her mouth. "Yes," she said softly. "You can expect me one of these days." She turned the ignition key, and shifted into gear. "Goodbye."
The car started slowly. "Wait!" I cried, running alongside. "Jesus! I almost forgot. My fiancee's coming out. She'll be here Friday."
"How long is she going to stay?"
"A week, I think, maybe two. I'll have to get a room at the motel in town for her."
"What?" She grinned. "If I were engaged to a man like you, young and handsome, and he tried to lock me in a motel room in town while he sunbathed in the nude up on that hill... "
"But we're not getting married till the first of January... " She laughed until she cried. "Fred! You can't mean... "
"Cathy's different. She's only nineteen. Wait till you see her... "
"Fred, boy, get hep. Victoria died over seventy years ago... " I watched her little car rattle away over loose, flying gravel until it turned at the gate, then walked slowly up the steps. I had the uneasy feeling I was making a frightful mistake bringing Cathy out to this town. All they think of, every damned one of them, is sex, SEX, SEX!
I took off my clothes, noticing with some misgiving the half-swollen condition of my prick. You too, you miserable rascal, I thought. I looked around for my shorts. I couldn't remember what I had done with them yesterday afternoon. "To hell with them," I muttered. The air was crisp. It felt good on my bare skin. Why bother with shorts out here in the country? I looked in the refrigerator for a bottle of beer. There was none. I lay down in bed. How pleasant to be alone for a change. I must have dozed. I thought I heard the door open.
"Hi, Mister Simmons." There could be no mistaking that boyish tenor.
"How the devil did you get out here, Willie?"
"Thumbed my way." He stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes fastened on my genitals. "Gees! You got a big one, Mister Simmons." Despite his plumpness, he moved with the agility of a cat after a bird. He had flopped in bed beside me before I could wink, and had hold of my cock. "Ooh! I want to eat this."
I pushed him away, and scrambled out the other side of the bed. "Damn it! Stop that." His eyes were as hurt as a wounded puppy's.
"Please! Please, Mister Simmons. You'll like it, honest. I love to do it. If you'd rather, you could put it... "
"Shut up, Willie!" I got into my clothes as quickly as I Could. "Come on."
"Where you going?"
"I'm taking you home. Come on."
He sat as far away from me in the car as he could. He sniffled. "You gonna tell my dad?"
"No," I said. "You're going to tell him yourself, Willie."
He sobbed. "Please. I won't do it again. Please, Mister Simmons. I promise."
I looked at the boy, lost somewhere, years ago, in the jungle of life. I could have sobbed myself.
We turned into his driveway. He leaped from the car as it came to a stop. I jumped out, running after him. "Willie, come back. There's no place to go." I caught up with him as he reached the backyard fence.
"Let me go, let me go. I'll kill myself."
Jane Dearborn stood on the front porch, glaring at me. "What are you doing to him? You didn't hit him, did you? I'll tell Will... "
"I didn't hit him. No. I want to talk to Will. Is he home?"
"He's asleep." She held out her arms. "Come, son. Tell mother. What's wrong?" The boy buried his face in her breasts.
"What the hell's going on?" The front door slammed as Will Dearborn stepped onto the porch.
"I don't know," Jane replied. "Talk to him. Come on, Willie. Let the wise men set the world right."
"Hello, Fred. What's the matter. The kid's not hurt, is he?"
"Yes, Will, I'm sorry to say."
"What happened?"
"Let's sit down out here."
As I told him what had happened, his face paled to a doughy whiteness, then began to crimson. His hands clenched. "Oh God! Oh my God!"
I made no mention of Warren's relations with Willie, confining my account to what had happened this afternoon. The psychiatrist could get the rest of the story directly from the boy.
"What did we do wrong? Christ! I did everything I could to get the boy interested in sports, bought him things... "
"I know nothing about these things, Will. All I can think of is the terrible agony the youngster will have to endure, knowing his folks have found him out."
I turned at the foot of the steps. Will hadn't moved. "Remember, the poor boy's sick, Will. He needs the best psychiatric help you can get for him." Will showed no sign that he had heard a word. "Will!" I raised my voice. He waved a limp hand, and stared at me. "If you ever loved this boy, now's the time to show it."
I looked back as I turned onto the highway. I could see his head buried in his hands, his shoulders heave. I could almost hear the cry of agony: My Son! My Son!
CHAPTER TWELVE
Friday afternoon, I was at the airport at a quarter after two, watching the skies for the first sight of the small shuttle plane from Los Angeles. I had spent all Thursday afternoon and evening giving the cabin a thorough cleaning, making sure there were no signs of the sexual orgies that had taken place these past two weeks. I had remembered to go up to the hill and bury that damned rubber. I also made sure there were no empty beer bottles lying around.
A minute or two early, the plane touched down and taxied up to the gate. I missed a heart beat or three as I recognized the girl in the short, blue dress, her shoulder-length blonde hair tossing in the wind. Rushing out to meet her, I swept her up in my arms and whirled her around while I hugged and kissed her. "Oh my darling! My darling!" I cried.
"Fred, dearest!" Her breath was warm as fresh toast. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you." Her wide-spaced blue eyes were as sparkling and merry as I remembered them. While we waited for her luggage, she clutched my arm. "Kiss me, darling! Right here in front of God and everybody." I was a little shame-faced about it, but I kissed her warmly and passionately, mindful of the envious glances of the male bystanders. I gave the porter a dollar tip. She had three heavy suitcases which I stored in the luggage compartment, remarking absently that it seemed to be a lot of clothes for a girl on a week's vacation.
"First," I said, "we'll stop at the motel in town and get you a room."
She raised her brows, then snuggled up to me. "No, honey, first, we go out to your place. I'm dying to see it. Sounds absolutely fan-tastic."
Her short dress bared much of her thighs. I had trouble keeping my eyes on the road. I could count the lacy loops on her panties. She chattered all the while it took to get to the cabin. I hurried around to open the door for her. "Oh, Fred! I thought your description was too, too much, but golee! You didn't say half enough." She came into my arms as we reached the threshold. I lifted her up and carried her inside. She rambled all about, oohing and aahing about this and that and the view.
"And where is this private retreat you wrote about? I want to see it."
"Up on the hill. You want to go now?"
"Yes, in a minute. I want to use the John."
"I'll be outside, Cathy."
How alive and vibrant she is, I thought, a bit more so today, probably. She came out in a few minutes, and took my hand as we started out.
"I took my stockings off. No use snagging them on weeds."
"No. Better begin economizing. A school teacher's pay today... " We broke through the bushes out onto the clearing. She stopped, squeezed my hand.
"How quiet! What a lovely place to sunbathe."
"Yes, I come up here almost every day."
"Honey, remember that cleared spot we found in the woods last June?"
"I'll never forget it. We lay and watched the cloud patterns change most of the afternoon."
"Find us one now."
I led her out to the center where the grass was well trampled. "Anywhere around here, Cathy."
She sank to her knees, then lay back, her eyes closed. How beautiful she must be in the nude, I thought. Speed the day! I lay at right angles to her, my head in her lap. Ashamed of myself for the horny ideas that kept popping into my head, I couldn't help thinking that if I just flipped over, my nose would be lying right over her pussy. I bet it smelled good--clean fresh and... and... delicious, was the word.
"I don't think I'm ever going back, darling. This is out of this world. George said he'd bet I wouldn't either."
"Who's George?"
After a slight hesitation, she replied, "My boss, silly. Who else? You met him at the office, remember?"
"You mean Mister Gates?"
"Yes, George Gates. He gave me a one-way ticket as a going away present."
"He seemed like a nice guy."
"He is. He's wonderful-to work for, I mean."
"Look at that covey of quail."
"Where?"
I raised up on both elbows, nodded directly ahead, I felt her legs shift a little. "They went into those bushes. They're gone." I lay my head back down. My neck had been touching the rough fabric of her dress before. I now felt the warmth of her bare flesh, sending a tingle over every nerve down to my toes. I moved my head slightly to the left. It couldn't be the hemline of her skirt that tickled my ear. It must be the last of her panties! All atremble, I slid my neck a quarter of an inch further up her thigh. She made no move. "Cathy!" I called softly. She didn't answer. I lifted my head to look at her. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open. Leaning on my left elbow, I turned to glance at her lacy panties. The tendrils that had tickled my ear were not lace, they were fine pussy hairs. She must have removed her panties in the bathroom! I stole another glance at her face, found no change. She must be sound asleep, I thought, after that long plane ride. As quietly as I could, I raised up, turned over on my belly, and put my face close to her blonde fuzzy mouth. I sniffed, inhaling the erotic fragrance. Tremulously I lowered my lips to kiss the soft mat, couldn't resist putting my tongue into it. Oh! Wait till I get at that! I should pull her dress down. I have no right to take advantage of her. I hesitated. Two weeks ago, I would have done just that, but now! The smell of pussy roused me to hard-on heights. I can get closer to it without waking her! My tongue-tip flickered just above the top of her slit. I touched the pink flesh between the hairy upper lips. Her body twitched. I raised my head, ready with profuse apologies, but she had moved only slightly, her thighs spread wider. I could see down into her vaginal slit, see the hair wet with her juice. I couldn't hold back any longer. My tongue burrowed into the widened cuntal crack, laved the juicy lips. Her cunt hair was wet and smooth and soft as moist cornsilk. She moaned. Her hand fluttered over the top of my head. "Mm! Darling!" she murmured. Her legs spread further. My tongue was circling her clitoris. Her hips came up off the ground to pressure her mound up into my face. "Mm! Fred, darling! Darling!" Her fingers twined in my hair, pushing me down further. I gave up all pretense now, pulled her legs apart and settled between them. My hands were under her ass tugging her cuntal crack closer to my sucking mouth.
"Come for me, baby! Come! Let it all flow." I soaked my thumb in her juicy crack, then circled her anus, pressuring for entry. The puckering muscle relaxed, and my thumb popped into her rectum. Both of her hands pulled at my ears as her thighs clamped around my head. "Oh, love it, honey, love it, eat it!" Her buttocks were swinging in wide circles as her asshole clutched at my thrusting thumb. "Oh! I'm coming, darling!" She stiffened for one moment, then broke into wild, uncontrollable bucking motions. I caught every drop of her copious flow.
"Oh, Fred, that was marvelous. Oh, so good." She kissed me, tonguing her juice from my lips as I lay beside her. "What took you so long? I thought you'd never get at it. All the past year... "
"I move like an iceberg."
"Anything but that, once you get moving. I'm warm.
Let's sunbathe." A mockingbird broke into song in one of the bushes nearby. We both lay naked before he had ended his musical trills.
"Cathy! My love!" I kissed her breasts, tanned and full and firm.
"Let me get a look at this thing you've been hiding from me for a year." She kissed my belly, moved down to lave the tip of my cock. "Ooh! He's a beauty!" She tongued around the underside of the bulbous head, swollen and throbbing. She kissed it again. "Later, you gorgeous thing! Right now I want you in me."
I bore into her, gently at first, wary of the hymenal barrier. It went in as smoothly as a piston in an oily cylinder. My balls smacked wetly against her anus. Inner muscles clutched and tugged at my shaft, as agile and as practiced as a monkey climbing a pole. I held still a moment. "Cathy! I have no condom."
Her eyes lighted with her laughter. "Silly! I take the pill. Any girl who doesn't in this day is... is... " I thought of Elaine Johnson's mocking smile. "... is Victorian," I said.
"Yes, that's it... perfect!"
"They'll love you out here, baby. Let's fuck! Welcome to the club!"
