Motherhood is, after all, woman's great and incomparable work. Thus wrote the poet-philosopher Edward Carpenter. This sterling and innocent thought is true even in today's modern world wherein women are seemingly over concerned with politics and pleasure and keeping perennially young. The world may be torn by war, but its population retains its faith in the dignity and unselfish devotion of the mother to her son. Mother and Country, these two rocks stand steadfast through the most trying times, and the man who rejects either is usually rejected in turn by his fellow man. We have been taught from birth that motherhood is good, unselfish, totally wholesome, and the mother who does not live up to these standards is looked upon with the deepest scorn.
Yet history abounds with women, both legendary and real, who have killed their sons, slept with them, even borne their children. Those women still exist today, and in Mrs. Hollister's Little Helpers Betty Willets closely examines such a contemporary woman, minutely inspecting the forbidden love of mother for son and subtly suggesting how such a love can come to blossom.
This is a purely fictional work, but done with such stark realism that each reader cannot help but identify to some extent with its characters. For, after all, what growing boy has not had a few lustful thoughts and desirous glances at his mother, and what mother has not found herself similarly reflecting on the child she bore as he grows through puberty and ventures unaided into the world of sexual maturity? It may be said that such fleeting thoughts are natural, but it may never be said that culmination of these thoughts is either natural or normal. And yet as Disraeli said, The thought is the father of the action, and one can only speculate on how many of these errant and perverse thoughts are actually put into action, how many true incestuous relationships develop between mother and son, between father and daughter.
Quoting further, Virgil wrote about youth, saying that the young are molded as easily as butter to the designs of evil. If this be so, then who better than the parent can there be to achieve this evil molding, for it is the pare. . who best understands the child, his weaknesses, his secrets.
It happens. One has only to read the newspapers to be sure of that, although reports of incestuous relationships are usually either minimized or concealed by the press because of the forbidden nature of the crime. In Mrs. Hollister's Little Helpers nothing is held back. It is not meant to shock, it is meant to explain and to show in at least one case the torment that goes with the incestuous desires of a woman who presents the facade of total respectability and devotion to her family. As the reader will see, these desires can be compelling, consuming, maddening, and the ends to which the parent goes to thwart these desires may be as shocking as the desires themselves. It is hoped that everyone who has had even the most fleeting incestuous desire will read this book and profit from it -- but then that would include a great many people indeed...
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Bea's hand was shaking visibly as she drew back the foreskin of her son's prick. Not since he was in diapers, a dozen years before, had she seen and touched his prick so intimately, and the strange and wonderful excitement she now felt was almost too much to bear. His stiff little prick was absolutely beautiful in comparison to his father's, and Bea wet her lips hungrily as she stared at it. The boy moaned softly, urgently, and began to shoot, and terrific orgasmic feelings surged through Bea at the sight of his pure white cum jetting up into the air, inches from her face.
Up until that moment, Bea's had been a hum-drum, frustrating existence, marked by more disappointments than triumphs. She'd been born of very middle-class parents in the city of Pittsburgh, and her first significant disappointment had come at the age of fifteen, when the company for which her father worked had transferred him to Kernville. Bea Hadley's parents had tried to point out the advantages of living in the smaller, cleaner Mid-western city, but she felt that leaving her friends in Pittsburgh was a tragedy from which she would never recover. Nevertheless, the family had moved west two weeks before the end of that summer, and during those two weeks Bea remained sullen and uncommunicative so that when it came time for registration in high school she had not made a single friend in the city of Kernville. She did not know even one of the excited, chattering teenagers about her as she waited in line to register, and thoughts of running away to Pittsburgh kept flitting through her mind, although she was far too practical a girl to do something that foolhardy.
Her only consolation was that she was not alone in her misery. Two people back of her in line stood a boy who appeared to be just as uncomfortable as she was. He was a fine-looking boy who appeared old beyond his years amid the jabbering horde. He was dressed in new clothes that were a bit more conservative than those worn by the other jostling, cat-calling boys around them and his dignity was impressive. She wished she could feel as calm as he looked in these alien surroundings, and she felt that many of the giddy girls around them were performing their silly antics largely for the purpose of attracting his attention, for he was a very handsome boy. He was taller than average, with the wide shoulders of a football player and the slender body of a track star. His sandy brown hair was in a brush-cut, his nose was straight, his mouth and chin were strong, and he had the nicest blue eyes Bea had ever seen. His skin was very smooth and fair, and it was tinged with a glow of pink around his ears and cheeks. He looked very manly, save for that boyish blush. After many sidelong glances, Bea deduced that he was a stranger in town too, and she vowed that if the two of them were back at her old home town, she'd be doing her best to welcome him to high school on his first day. Calm as he looked, rocking back on his heels, hands deeply thrust in his pockets, she was sure he was very ill at ease, and she longed to smile and talk to him. Her natural shyness prevailed, and she was limited to glancing at him through her eyelashes as the line slowly advanced.
Jim Hollister had seen Bea as the cutest little thing in the whole noisy line-up. Even though many of them were better stacked than the big-eyed brunette, they were just kids, giggling and snapping gum and talking about their summers while she stood there as cool as could be. She was really pretty. Her hair shone glossy black and there was a soft wave to it. Her eyes were big and brown and very long-lashed, and across her nose were sprinkled a few beguiling freckles. Her nose was slightly upturned, more impudent than snooty, and her full, pink-rouged lips seemed to be pouting because they were not being kissed. Her blemish-free skin had a golden tan cast to it that did not look as if it came from exposure to the sun. She might be Italian or Greek or even Gypsy, one of those nationalities noted for its hot-blooded, early-ripening women. She wasn't much over five feet tall, but already she was proportioned like some of the pin-up girls he had in his secret collection. She was wearing a blue skirt and a white blouse, both of which fit her very well, and her modish appearance made him even more uncomfortable in his stiff new clothes. She had an adorable little ass, and he wished he could see it in a bathing suit, or better yet, in tight pink panties as she held her skirt up around her waist. She had a nice little set of titties, set high on her chest and poking straight out at her snow-white blouse. Jim's palms itched as he wondered how many lucky guys had felt her up there. Her waist was very tiny, so small that he could probably span it with his long, awkward hands -- if, of course, she'd let him and if, of course, he didn't have to keep his hands in his pockets to conceal the boner he had. For a boy his age, it was an inordinately-big erection, and its size as well as its presence made his ears and cheeks feel just as hot as it was. It had been brought on by the bevy of pretty and sweet-smelling girls all around him and then kept in its state of solid rigidity by the pretty little brunette with the teasing eyes.
Jim tried not to meet her gaze directly, but she never left his mind as the line shortened. He decided she was a girl who put out. This would account for her cool, mature attitude and for her being ignored by the others about them. The girls would have little to do with one of their number who went all the way with guys, and the guys would ignore her in public, only to be crawling all over her as they stripped her down in the back seat of some car and felt her up and down and maybe even stuck it in her. Maybe she only gave hand jobs, but that would be enough for him. Maybe she sucked, and the thought of those soft pink lips on his flaming prick made it throb dangerously harder under his concealing hand and caused his ears to burn even more. But she probably fucked, and with an ass like that it was probably wild. He longed to smile at her, to talk to her, even if she was the school whore.
"Beatrice Hadley," the registrar intoned, and she answered in a high, clear voice. Beatrice -- none of the models in his collection had a name so exotic, and as she swung her compact little ass forward to the desk, he knew very well she put out and he wished with all his soul he could lose his virginity in her juicy little hole.
Bea answered the registrar's questions in a stammering voice, knowing full well that everyone behind her was snickering at her very square name. But when she turned, class tickets in hand, she saw only one smile being directed at her, and that on the face of the handsome boy behind her. It was a very sweet smile and she walked slowly away, very pleased, deliberately tarrying until she could hear his name.
"James Hollister," said the registrar, and she immediately thought of that name being announced as that of the daring quarterback, the high-leaping basketball center, the substantial citizen. Or even James Hollister, United States Senator. She had to meet him before some other girl got him in her clutches.
The meeting was accomplished at their lockers. These were assigned alphabetically and now the young pair found themselves to be next door neighbors. They smiled and blushed and stammered, but they talked. Bea told Jim of how she'd been forced to come to Kernville and of how dumb she thought the town was. Jim in turn told her that he sure wished he was back on the ranch his family had sold in northern Texas, but secretly he was overjoyed to be there with her. They were pleased to learn they had three classes together and even more pleased to find they lived quite close to each other. Jim walked Bea home after school that night, and although he didn't get to feel her up, they did briefly touch hands in parting. Then in her bedroom, Bea kissed the hand he'd touched and thought how wonderful it would be to wear the letterman's sweater he would soon earn. And in his bedroom, Jim wrapped his hand around his prick and jerked off, thinking of Bea instead of looking at his collection of pictures.
They started going together. Bea helped Jim with his homework and encouraged him to go out for football. Jim was glad to be around her for any reason, although he still felt she'd been putting out so much in Pittsburgh that her family had had to leave.
Still, they'd been going together for over a month before they kissed. It was in a movie, and the kiss transported Bea right up onto the romantic screen, while it gave Jim a thumping hard-on that seemingly lasted for hours. He kissed her again at her door, this time feeling the little body he so admired being pressed lightly to his, and it so excited him that he couldn't wait to get home and masturbate. He did it behind a bush, half a block from Bea's house. He masturbated again when he got home, picturing Bea in a thousand different erotic situations with him. Only after he'd shot his cum again did he admit to himself that she was really a very nice girl and that he would have little chance to screw her. Still he couldn't give her up.
Their parents approved of their dating but didn't think they should go steady, so their's was an unspoken steady arrangement. He took her to all the school functions, proud to have as his own one of the prettiest girls in the school, and she was equally proud to be with him, and to always have a date. They kissed a lot and two or three times a week they had long necking sessions which got them terribly hot. Gradually Bea gave Jim access to her breasts, which he felt of through her clothing. Once she'd gotten used to it, his hand felt very nice there, but she was always careful not to get carried away by the nice feelings. At these times she forced herself to concentrate on her homework rather than on the good feelings. She knew she'd have to go farther with him and she did her best to keep his progress slow. With his mournful entreaties and his great strength, this was at times hard to do.
Jim felt like overpowering her at times, but his respect for her was such that he held himself back. He enjoyed to the fullest every moment of holding her lithe, firm little body in his arms and kissing her soft, primly-closed lips. Even through the covering of her dress and bra, her titties felt marvelous in his hands, and it was agonizingly sweet when he could get his hand up her blouse. Her ass felt almost as good, when she'd let him briefly touch her there. He could go on necking with her for hours, until he knew his balls would ache the next day. When at last she'd end another of their torrid necking sessions, he'd go home and masturbate. He was masturbating more than ever. Together they learned to neck and they had their first cigarette and their first drink, and it was the drink that first made them lose control.
Jim had made the Junior Varsity football team as an end, and after the team's first victory there had been a party. Wine and beer were surreptitiously drunk, and after the party Bea had had a particularly difficult time in controlling Jim's advances and her own responses. Her head had been reeling with the effects of the alcohol and the hot clinches when he'd led her to her door. There, as usual, she'd let herself go just a little more, as her means of keeping his thoughts on her when they were apart. Their embrace had been long and close, and for the first time she distinctly felt the long hard bulge of his sex against her tummy.
The outline of his huge cock had frightened her, but he was holding her with such fierce intensity that she couldn't back away from it. Thinking too much about that, she'd been totally unprepared for his tongue when it forced its way between her lips. The big wet worm had shocked her and almost sickened her, and she'd frantically tried to expel it with her own little tongue. She was having no success, she couldn't even turn her head away, when all at once he was holding her more tightly than ever, groaning pitiably through the kiss, and spasmodically churning his loins against her resisting body.
His groans turned to gasps as he broke the kiss and, still holding her very tightly, he'd pumped his body hard against hers until at last, with a whimpered apology, he'd released her and gone staggering down her walk. Stunned, she'd gone inside and sat on her bed for a long time to wonder what had come over him before reaching the horrifying conclusion that he'd had an ejaculation in his pants, a scant fraction of an inch away from her very vulnerable little body. Although it was thrilling, in a way, to know she could do that to him, she resolved never to let it happen again.
Going home, Jim felt as if he was still cumming. Holding her that close had been incredibly good, and when he'd at last got up the courage to try the French kiss, the feeling of her warm, wet mouth with its roiling tongue had been every bit as wickedly wonderful as he'd heard eating pussy was. He licked his lips, savoring all he could of the residue of her mouth, and his cum-filled shorts caused him no small discomfort. His prick stayed up all the way home, and in bed he jacked off as usual, but pretending his hand was her delicious little pussy.
They never talked about the incident, for both were too embarrassed about it, but neither forgot about it and inevitably it happened again. Eventually she accepted his orgasmic writhings against her after some special date, but she was very careful about the little drinking they did, not wanting it to go any farther. And Jim looked forward to each time she'd let him dry-fuck her, and afterward would savor it as much as if she had let him actually put it in her. She would let him some day. He kept after her for it, and she held him off with promises and by slowly giving him more liberties with her body.
Gradually their petting increased until he was getting his hand inside her brassiere, and then inside her panties. She actually liked it when he felt her breasts while kissing her. His hand there while they tangled tongues was at once soothing and highly-exciting, but it wasn't enough to satisfy him. He kept after her until he got his fingers in her vulva, and she didn't like that at all. It felt good to her, in a way, but it was really more frightening than anything else when he got his finger in her and made her so disgustingly wet as he came dangerously close to breaking her precious hymen. At these times, when she could no longer stand it, she would yield to his perennial desire to have her fondle his penis. In their sweaty, panting tangle, she would take it out -- an impossibly big, shiveringly-ugly thing -- and use her dainty little hand on it until their clinchings were climaxed with his groaning, erupting orgasm. Afterward he'd ardently assure her of his love for her, and that always made things right again.
Jim could never get enough of necking and feeling her up. She was so adorable, and so very warm and soft. Her titties were a special delight to him, and he loved to feel the soft firmness of those compact globes and the highly-textured buttons of her velvet-covered nipples. He longed to suck on them but never tried, for that seemed like a very unmanly thing for a football player to do. And he never tired of her pussy. When after a long session of petting he got his finger in it, he would swear to himself he'd be forever content to feel of its silken wet folds with nothing else, while she sighed and squirmed in his arms. He wanted her to cum, for that fantastic experience would surely make her as much addicted to sex as he was, but every time his own needs would prevail. Finger-fucking her felt too good and smelled too erotic, and he couldn't help thinking about fucking her and eating her until he'd worked himself up to a terrible state of frustration. Then he couldn't resist begging her to take out his prick and work it over with her dainty little hand until he'd creamed all over both of them and was left totally adoring of her and at least temporarily exhausted.
There was some furtive whiskey being passed about on the night of the Junior Prom, and as leaders in the high school society by then, Jim and Bea were expected to partake of it. Jim had more than Bea, but she had enough of it to be more receptive than usual when they got around to necking in the back seat of his father's car. In the aftermath of the partying, they felt warm and giggly, daring and adult as they sat in the hills overlooking Kernville. Bea really wanted to neck that night -- and of course Jim did -- but she didn't want to soil her pretty new formal. Jim suggested she remove it, and she quickly refused.
"Why not?" he asked. "What the heck, we've necked in our bathing suits before."
"That's different," she told him, although at the time she couldn't really see why it was.
He argued, tickling her and kissing her and joshing her, and at last, with a great feeling of daring, they stripped to their underwear in the back seat of the car and began some serious necking.
It was better than it had ever been before. The feeling of his body, so hard and smooth and strong against hers, was a pure delight, a wonderful preview of the many nights they would share in their marital bed. It was marvelous the way his hands shook as they roved her thoroughly-warmed flesh, banishing any doubts of his love for her. His penis was so big and hard it was sticking out of his Jockey shorts and rubbing against her, and even that was good. The more she had handled it, the less weird it had become to her, and now she found a degree of beauty in its constant hard strength. She liked to feel its heat against her body and to handle its rock-hard length, knowing all the while that what she held in her hand was her ultimate control over him. She hugged and kissed and wrestled about with more and more abandon, confident at all times in her ability to draw the beast in him out with her nimble little hand.
For years now Jim had been looking forward to making out with his adorable little Bea just like this, almost nude, with no one around to disturb them. But as delightful as it was, it wasn't enough. Her panties and brassiere and garter belt and hose were entirely sexy to him, but he had to know what her fantastic little body would feel like rubbing over his entirely naked. Astonishingly, he felt he had a great control over himself that night, in spite of having so much of her soft flesh at his disposal, and he succeeded in unhooking her brassiere without her even knowing it.
"Jim, don't!" she said, when she realized what he'd done.
"Aw, come on. I've felt you up bare before."
"But not this bare," she protested, but then it was too late, for her breasts were naked and he was kissing them, and it was the sweetest thing she'd ever known. He was like a big baby, harmless and entirely loving as he nursed at her immature but growing breasts, crowding her with such feelings of tenderness toward him that she felt she might burst.
It was good for him too. The flesh of her perfectly-formed titties, wet from his hungry kisses, felt every bit as sexy as her pussy had, and he couldn't get enough of the delicately-perfumed breast with its hard little nipple as she squirmed and panted in his arms. It was something he should have been doing months before, for it not only felt terrific to him, it had her hotter than she'd ever been in the past. She was so hot she put up no resistance whatsoever while he was getting his hand inside the waistband of her smooth silken panties, down over her soft, warm tummy, and through the moist curly hair to her cunt. She was really wet, and hot too, and he did his joyful best to add to this, sucking steadily on her velvet-textured nipple and sliding his fingers all around inside her cunt-lips.
"Jim, let's stop a minute," she panted. "Let's stop and have a cigarette."
"Yeah. Sure. But let's take off all our clothes first."
She tried to protest, but he stopped this by kissing her and thrusting his tongue as deep in her mouth as his finger was in her pussy. Keeping her legs together, she tried to reach his penis with her hand and make him cum, but he thwarted this by tickling her until she was about to wet herself, and then it was easy for him to draw down her panties, leaving her entirely nude. She was quite drunk by then on the combination of the strong liquor and the far stronger lust in her, and she had no time to gather her wits before Jim, equally naked now, had her down on her back on the car seat, his smooth body caressing hers, his big prick rubbing against her. She could even feel his balls, soft and warm, sliding over her as he kissed her and stroked her with his hands, and even those felt good to her in her state of supreme passion and love. She felt as if she might burst from this unaccustomed joy as thrill mounted upon thrill in a never-ending ascent to heaven. Bea loved Jim fully then, as fully as she ever would.
Jim had never known how great sex could be. All his past times making out with Bea and all his past erotic fantasies were as nothing compared to this. Being totally naked with a perfectly beautiful girl, being able to do just about anything he wanted to with her, that was the ultimate thing in life. Just about anything he wanted to do? Shit, she was so fucking hot there was nothing at all he couldn't do.
CHAPTER TWO
Jim looked up. The windows of the car were so steamed up that it was doubtful that a cop or a peeper could even see them. They were in a private world, the heat of their sex having provided the curtains they needed. He lowered his head to Bea's silken flesh again, hungrily foraging in her throat for still more excitement, and thinking ahead to partaking of the most forbidden delights of all. He squirmed lower on her, his prick as hard as the knee it pressed against, his hands sliding up and down her fragile rib-cage, and gorged himself on her titties. He went lower still, and shaking with the effort to control himself, French-kissed her right in the belly-button while through his head raced everything he'd ever heard about eating pussy.
Bea felt as if it was happening to someone else, or that she was having the most incredibly erotic dream in the world. He was actually Frenching her in the navel, using his tongue to inject her with even more of the warmth and weakness that had her so stupefied already. And she was all naked and so was he, with his prick still up as hard as ever. She could feel it with her foot, hard but very soft-textured, and she liked it, she loved it. Sex-drugged as she was, she was still super-sensitive. She could feel the muscles rippling in his shoulders as he clasped her about her hips, digging his fingers into her gloriously-taut buttocks. She could feel each individual hair on his head with her fingers as he went on doing that terribly-wicked and wonderfully sweet thing with his tongue in her belly-button. She could feel each of his deep, shuddering breaths as his chest swelled against her wet, steaming pussy, his breast-bone clumsily but effectively trying to part the seething lips of her pussy to rub against her clit. It was hard to believe, but he was going to go down on her, going to do the dirtiest, most loving and thrilling thing a boy could ever do, and she had to let him do it. She had to, but she had to protest, too.
"Jim, dooon't. Ooooooh, I can't stand any more. We've got to stop."
"Not yet, baby. Not yet," he muttered.
Saying that was just what he needed to go through with it. He'd become hypnotized by the feeling of his tongue in her belly-button, but now he was released to do the thing. He slipped to his knees on the floorboard of the car, his prick standing hard and throbbing against empty air. She really smelled funky, but by God, he was going to do it. What a huge, huge thrill it was to close his hands over her perfect, tapered thighs and pull them apart, even though she feebly tried to hold them together. And what a weird, weird kick it was to look straight at a cunt, all black with the hair crawling up her pale belly, and just about knocking him out with its hot stink. He took a lungful of it and it made him feel drunker than the booze had, and with reckless abandon he lowered his head and burrowed his mouth in the dark, fetid depths of her soft moist groin.
"Oh, Jim! Jim, that feels so wonderful! Oh, stop!" It felt as if she was going to melt and run right out of her pussy to form a warm puddle on the floor. He did love her! This proved it beyond any shadow of a doubt. And she was every bit a woman, for she loved every second of it, no matter what she said, as she thrashed on the seat, head rolling back and forth, jiggling breasts held between her upper arms as she clutched at the head of this man who loved her so much he was kissing her right at the very edge of her pussy. "Jim, I love you! Ooooooh, ahhhhh. Oh, that feels so good! It feels so... oooooohhh... oh, Jim!"
By God, he was actually doing it. He was right down on his knees with his face between her legs, breathing in her stink and tasting it too, and finding that he loved it! She was all sweaty down there from a night of dancing and necking and it should have been turning his stomach, but in fact it was filling him with both excitement and confidence as he went on sucking with his lips at the hot smooth flesh between her thigh and her hair. His lips fit in there perfectly. He kept his eyes open, watching her crazy good contortions, not wanting to miss a thing, while beside his mouth her cunt yawned wide, emitting that most compelling musky smell and mutely asking him to work his whole head up inside it, lapping like a puppy all the way. He couldn't do that though. He'd achieved his purpose, he'd gone down on her, and he just couldn't do anything more with his mouth, for what if something happened and they broke up and she told on him and then everyone knew he was a muff-diver?
"Oh, Jim. That's just heaven. Ohhhhhhh. Oh, I love you so. Ahhhhhh...." This, she realized, was really orgasming. Even though she was fighting to hold back that feeling of melting out of her pussy with her restrained pee-pee, she was cumming all the way at last, and feeling that it would never ever end. This was the way it would always be with him -- days filled with happiness and children's laughter, nights filled with this ecstasy. The ecstasy grew, until he stopped it with a quickly-delivered question.
"Will you do it to me?" Once he'd asked it he was ashamed of himself. He went back to kissing her groin, and in fact brushed the very edge of her cunt with his kiss. Boldly then, he used his thumbs to part those hairy, sodden, pink lips and extended his tongue to the fullest. His jaws trembled with the strain, and now he had to close his nostrils lest the good, rank odor overcome him. With the accuracy of the thrusting matador, he found her clit with his tongue and for a few brief and utterly frightening moments, he whipped it back and forth with his tongue. Then he had the courage to ask her again. "Will you go down on me now?"
He was getting up on the seat beside her, and still she was cumming, feeling it in every pore of her body, even though the shock of his proposal was still standing her hair on end. "Oh, that was wonderful," she said. "I love you so."
"Will you?" he demanded, pulling her closer, his big prick pointing straight up at her. He realized it was considerably bigger than most boys his age, made so by his years of frequent masturbation, and now it looked positively huge, and he was proud of that.
It was pointing up at her, its big, ruddy end glistening with wetness, its little mouth gaping wide as if it too was demanding that she do this thing, make a cocksucker out of herself, just like the lowest girls at school. She said in desperation, "It's something we should save till we get married. We should save something for then."
"Hey, I went down on you," he complained. "And we've been saving going all the way for when we get married. Come on."
He tried to convince her further with a kiss, but the very thought of his lips, still wet from her pussy, on hers, was awful. Panicked now, she ducked her head down to his lap, praying no one would ever know this, and burrowed her lips deep in his hairy, strong-smelling groin. He writhed in ecstasy, his prick bobbing against her cheek, and she did her best to return all she could of his kiss by burrowing deeper still with her mouth in that hot, dirty, sexy hollow. She tried to grab his prick and make him cum, even if he did it in her hair, and he in turn pulled her hand away and added greatly to her panic by squirming about and trying to get his prick right in her mouth!
"I love you, baby, just kiss it once, I did it to you. God, I'm outta my head, I won't shoot in your mouth, I swear it, oh God, please kiss it, please suck it!"
Somehow she got out of his grasp, and falling back on the seat, she spread her legs as far as she could and said, "Do it. Put it in me. I can't make you wait any longer."
"Screw... ? Screw you?" He couldn't believe it. The thought of actually being inside her, doing it the right way, going all the way, made him forget all about his terrible need for her to suck him off. "Really, honey?"
"Yes. I want you to," she said. She knew it wouldn't work though. She was just as much aware of the size of her pussy as she was of his prick, and there was no way he could really get it in her. He'd try, it would hurt some, but then he'd shoot and she'd still have her hymen and she wouldn't have become a cocksucker. "I want you to, Jim. We'll save... the other till after we're married. Do it now, but be careful. Be really careful, Jim."
"I swear I will be," he said, heaving his big body up between her legs, following his near-bursting prick to its goal. "I won't hurt you, honey, and I promise I won't shoot in you."
The closer it got, the more certain Bea was that she was doing the right thing, and that it wouldn't fit. All -- or at least most -- of her ecstasies were behind her now, and this was being done solely for him.
The massive bulbous end approached. Both of them watched it, guided by his hand, for nice girls didn't put it in for a guy. They met there, male flesh hot and dry and eagerly swollen, female flesh hot and wet and cringing. Bea bit her lip and closed her eyes. He wouldn't even be able to find her vagina, and in moments her tender little furrow would be scalded with thick jets of his cum. Jim stared lustfully down at the perfect little body, completely open and available to him, and it was the hand of very primitive instinct that guided the big bare head of his cock right to its goal. His hips jerked uncontrollably and it popped right inside of her. "Owwwwww! Jim, no! Wait!" she said.
"I didn't mean to hurt you! Oh, God! Nnnnng!"
Although he strained every muscle in his body, he couldn't stop. He was cumming and he couldn't help it. Although she screamed and beat and pushed at him, he still couldn't stop. His pelvis took over, driven by his exploding balls, and he shoved his erupting prick all the way inside her and for a few fantastic seconds pumped it back and forth just as hard as he could, orgasming, cumming, shooting, and shouting just as loud as she was.
"Jim, stop! Jim, you're killing meeeeeeee!"
"Arrrrggggh! Nnnnnnnngggggg! Oh! Oh! Oh, I love you! Nnnnnnngggggg! Oh, baby! Ahhhhhhhhhh. Ahhhhh. Ahhh...."
What the hell can she be crying for at a time like this? he wondered, his continually-throbbing prick deeply immersed in the warmest, most wonderful bath in all existence. Goddamn, I really did cum in her, but I sure couldn't help it, and she liked it as much as I did, even if it did hurt her a little bit. Jesus, she can really fuck, and so can I, and once we get married we'll be fucking every night and going down on each other and she'll love my cum shooting in her mouth as much as she loved it shooting up her stinky sweet little hole.
CHAPTER THREE
Their friends and family were stunned when, immediately after the Junior Prom, Bea and Jim broke up. Jim was stunned too. He sent her flowers and candy and presents, and whenever he could get her alone for a few moments in the hall at school, he pleaded for her to take him back. She refused, and she returned everything he sent her, for nothing in the world could make her take back the boy that had hurt her so. He'd gotten her drunk and performed a perversion on her, had almost gotten her to do the same to him, and then had lied and taken her virginity, ripped it right out of her, and put her in danger of getting pregnant.
Right from the start, all he'd been after was sex, and he proved that in a few weeks by taking up with Betty Brown, the school slut. Not to spite him, she told herself, but only because she wasn't about to miss out on any good times at school, Bea began dating Eddie Parkins, a better athlete than Jim was and one of the most popular boys in school. Then she took great delight in walking down the hall, wearing Eddie's letterman's sweater, with her hand in his, and encountering Jim and Betty, the fat, frowzy-haired pig that would screw just about anybody.
At these times she returned Jim's breezy greetings with a pretty smile, and moved closer to Eddie. But also at these times she could feel her pussy closing up like a flower at dusk, and she had to wonder how even a fat pig like Betty Brown could take Jim's big cock.
Jim had felt extremely bad about their break-up. He'd tried everything he could to get back together with Bea, and he blamed himself entirely for having lost her. He still hoped to get back together with her, and until that time he devoted himself to leading an exemplary life. He worked hard at raising his grades as the semester's end approached, and he spent his spare time after school on the gym field, doing a lot of running, determined to make All-State end when the season started in the fall. On a Friday afternoon he was running laps in his gray flannel shorts and his jock, and he'd worked up a good sweat when he looked in the direction of a wolf whistle.
Betty Brown and her friend Mousie were there on the other side of the chain-link fence, giggling like crazy, looking at him. Betty Brown was the school whore. Probably over a dozen guys had fucked her, and in so doing had both ruined and elevated their reputations. Mousie was her constant companion at school, a little matchstick of a girl with a sharp face and a whiny voice who did nothing but bask in the unsavory shadow cast by the notorious Betty Brown. She made Betty Brown look even more stacked than she was, and this, they said, was why Betty let her hang around. Betty was really stacked. She had big round tits that required a helluva brassiere to shape into points, and she always carried her books tucked underneath them to make them stick out even more. They said she was good with her books when she wanted to be, which wasn't often, for she was more interested in making out. She was round all over.
Her brown hair was frizzy and usually streaked with blonde from a bottle, and her face was chubby though pretty in an insolent, smirking way that was somehow attractive. Her lips were full, and she wore a lot of lipstick on them, orange-red, slickly gleaming. Her ass was like a couple of basketballs stuck together, but basketballs never squirmed and jiggled like that. Jim had often followed her down the hall at a distance, just to watch that ass move, and of late he'd done that even more frequently, for he'd resolutely stopped masturbating and his wet dreams were not enough to keep him from being horny all the time. She had good legs, thick but well-shaped.
On several occasions Mrs. Hobson, the girl's gym teacher, had sent her home to change clothes, for her skirts were always the shortest in school and her sweaters the tightest. Now she was wearing a checked skirt that showed her knees and the line of her panties, and a somewhat soiled white sweater, through which could be seen her black brassiere. Jim was surprised that Mrs. Hobson hadn't sent her home that day, but he wasn't surprised at the crawly feeling inside his jock strap. He waved and smiled, feeling big, feeling dangerous.
The girls on the other side of the fence exchanged some words and giggled, and Mousie called out, "Who you running from? Bea Hadley?"
He stopped running and hitched up his shorts. He wished he'd worn a sweat-suit, for he felt very naked approaching them. As casually as he could, he said, "I don't go with Bea any more."
They giggled. "I know," said Betty, her throaty voice mocking him. "She dumped you."
He shrugged. "It was a two-way thing." The way she shifted her books, it was as if her tits were living animals in the tight sweater. "What are you two doing here so late? Teacher keep you after school?"
"Just walking around," Betty said, smiling slyly.
Mousie giggled like crazy. She said, "Bullshit! We've been over there by the bus stop, watching you. Betty's got the hots for you."
"You shut up!" Betty snapped, and made as if to hit the much smaller girl with her purse, while Jim swallowed hard, tingly feelings running up his spine. She smiled again when she looked back at him, but only a little. Had she glanced down at his shorts? Could she see the growing bulge there? "So I was watching him," she said, addressing her remarks to Mousie, but looking straight at him. "So I like him. So what?"
He wanted to take off running again, but her sultry hazel eyes held him there. "Yeah," Jim mumbled, "so what?"
"Do you like her?" Mousie prodded. "You must, or you wouldn't be following her down the hall all the time."
Now Jim wanted to hit her, but he only shrugged and said, "What if I do like her a little? That's none of your business."
Playing the child now, Betty stuck out her tongue -- pink and plump -- at her girl friend before she turned her slinkiest smile on Jim. "Like me enough to take me to the show or something?"
"Well... sure." She had to have noticed his prick by then. It was threatening to crawl right out of his shorts. But still he couldn't move; he was in too deep.
"When?"
"Well...." He was so excited he was getting dizzy, and he could feel his ears and cheeks getting red.
"Tonight?"
"Sure," he said, and turned and started sprinting down the track, his hard-on bobbing painfully in the jock. "I'll be waiting for you at seven!" she called after him, and he waved his hand in reply. She didn't have to tell him her address. Everyone knew the unkempt, litter-strewn place where the notorious Betty Brown lived.
She sat right up next to him as he drove. He bitterly regretted having been roped into the date and he planned to take her clear across town to a cheap movie house that was playing something he and Bea had already seen. He prayed that no one -- especially Bea! -- would see him with this fat pig who liked to drink beer and make out with anyone who'd have her. Still, she didn't look bad. He got a good look at her in the lobby of the show as he bought her a box of popcorn. She wasn't all that fat. She did have a little double chin, but most of her weight was in her hips and in those fantastic big tits. She smelled like she needed a bath, but she looked pretty good in her loose black skirt and the white peasant blouse that provided such a fine view of the deep slot between her creamy-white tits, and when she smiled up at him, it was her way of saying she didn't mind his looking at all. Safe in the darkness of the theater, he could relax a little. Going down the steep steps on the balcony, he ventured to take her hand, she squeezed his in return, and that was all it took for him to start getting a hard-on.
He tried to cover it with his hand as they sat down, even though it was very dark, but she firmly took his hand in hers and held it tightly on the arm of the seat. She kept on eating the popcorn and watching the show, and when the box was empty she dropped it on the floor and linked her arm in his.
"I like you," she said. "Most guys take me to the drive-in. All they want to do is make out. Of course, you can make out here, too, but not like at a drive-in. Do you like to make out? Did you and Bea make out a lot?"
Agonized, he looked around to see who could have heard her, but the other couples there were too far away.
"Cat got your tongue?" she said, and slipped her hand down to squeeze his leg, shooting currents of electricity right up through his balls. He turned to answer her and all of a sudden he was kissing her. Her sucking mouth was wide open, incredibly soft, and the cat didn't have his tongue, she did.
She tasted like popcorn and the arm of the chair was very hard in his ribs, but that was all right. Her mouth, completely open and giving, was the warmest thing he'd ever known and, without breaking the heady kiss, he somehow managed to get his arm around her. Their first kiss must have lasted twenty minutes. It was only broken when he cautiously reached around and felt just how soft and sexy the edge of her tit was.
"Oh, baby, you don't mess around," she said. "I like that." Then they were kissing again, and he had free rein to feel all he could of her gorgeous big tits. Shit, she wanted him to! Any time he hesitated, she urged him on with another of those electrifying squeezes on his leg, each one going a little higher. He could feel the first hot juices oozing out of his rampantly-hard prick, and all thought of the movie was gone, vanished in this wonderfully thrilling embrace with this terribly sexy girl. When she Frenched him in the ear, he thought he'd go out of his mind.
"That get you hot, Jimmy?" She giggled in the darkness. "Let's see if it did." Her hand went right up those last few inches of his leg and closed on his prick, giving him the biggest thrill he'd ever known in his life. She felt all of it, then looked up at him and said, "Jeez, is that all you?"
"Betty, Betty, you're driving me crazy," he said.
"I've gotta see it. Hold still," she said.
"Ohmigawd," he murmured, holding his head in his hands, unable to stop her from opening his pants, fishing around in his shorts, and pulling his ragingly-hot prick out into the open.
"Wow, you're really big," she said, stroking it, fondling it with both hands. "I bet you've got the biggest one in school. You want a little hand job? You want to play a little stink-finger while you get it? Know what? I didn't wear any pants. Just for you, Jimmy."
He expected her to have a cavernous cunt, but she didn't. It was closely nestled between her big, soft thighs, and much wetter than Bea's had ever been. He could poke anywhere he wanted in the silken wet folds of it, and even from that distance he was getting drunk on its rich stink, while she squeezed his arm and sighed and purred, and kept on playing with his prick. He could tell when he found her clitoris, for then she murmured, "Oh! Oh! Oh!" and stroked his prick so rapidly he started shooting. She turned to face him, dislodging his hand from her cunt, and her eyes shone brightly as she pumped it all out of him, making him bite his lip in ecstasy, and hoarsely whispering, "Doesn't that feel good, Jimmy? Don't I make you feel good?"
She giggled away his embarrassment while she wiped his cum off with a tissue from her purse, and then they began necking again. She wouldn't let him put his prick back in his pants; she said she never wanted to let go of it, it was such a nice one. She encouraged him to finger-fuck her, but she wouldn't cum; she said it was no good for her unless he did it too, and she promised she'd really make him feel good after the show. He hugged her and felt her up and down and kissed her and sucked on her tongue, exposed, oblivious to whomever might see, a heavy somnolence tempering his state of steady sexual excitement. He was more disheveled than she when they left through the near-empty lobby, with her leaning against him, her arm about his waist. He had a big hard-on and was lipstick-smeared but he didn't care. He felt drugged.
The minute they were in the car they were necking again, and she took out his prick before she'd let him drive off. "Take me where you used to park with Bea," she said, and he did.
There on the hill, she showed him her tits. She had him sit a few feet away from her while she slowly and with many smiles removed her blouse and then caressed her bra-covered breasts, cooing and simpering as she did. He watched with glazed eyes, his heart pounding, while she laboriously unfastened the bra snaps and slowly removed the limp, sweat-soaked pink garment, first the straps, then the concealing cups. Her big tits glowed luminescently in the moonlight, and his mouth went dry. She put her hands on her hips and shook her shoulders, causing her big, sexy tits to sway back and forth.
"Like what you see?"
"Boy, I'll say."
"Want to kiss 'em, lover?" she asked.
He started forward, but she held him back, and said, "Don't grab. You've gotta ask. And... and you've gotta tell me they're pretty... beautiful, even if they are too big."
She held his head and kissed it while he sucked and fondled the big, warm, satiny globes. He hugged her solid body closely while he gorged on tit, and she held nothing back. "Ooo, does that ever feel good. You really know how to make a girl feel good, lover. I'm so glad you asked me out tonight. I've wanted to be your girl for ever so long. Want to play with mamma's pussy too? It's okay. Anything you do is okay. Make me feel good, and then I'll make you feel real good with my boobies. Baby, baby, I just love it when you do me like this. Suck 'em hard, honey. I love it, and so do you. Gads, you're getting me so hot I'm about to cum all over the place! Oh, baby. Oh, baby! I love you. I can't help it, I love you!"
She almost broke his neck when she came, ooohing and aaahing and breaking out in a sweat for a few tumultuous seconds, and then she pulled him up and Frenched him deeply.
She said, "You're sweet. I really could love you, if you gave me the chance. You ready to have a cum now?"
"Whatever you want," he weakly said, quite drugged on their long excess of sexual pleasure.
"I want you. Take down your pants," she said.
She helped him, and as she did, she exclaimed over his prick, stating that it was the biggest, most beautiful male member she'd ever seen in her life, and making no bones about the fact that she'd seen more than one. She fondled it and caressed it with her hands and blew on it with her warm breath, and then to his astonished delight got down and rubbed her boobs over it. She got it between them and held them together over it and moved her torso to squirm it between their soft, heavy warmth.
"Ever screw a girl between her boobs before?" she asked. "Did Bea ever let you do it, or are hers even big enough?"
"No," he panted, soaring high again from this fantastically erotic act she was performing for him.
"Were you screwing her a lot?"
"Sometimes," he lied. He wished she wouldn't talk.
"What did you do, go down on each other?" she asked, ever moving.
"We just... we didn't... we just necked mostly." God, if her boobs were this good, how was her pussy?
"No wonder you broke up with her. If I loved a certain boy, I'd go down on him all the time, if he'd do the same for me. And if he loved me, or even if he just said he loved me, heck, I'd let him screw me any time he wanted to. Know what?"
"No, what?" he murmured, his hands on her back to try to make her move faster.
"I am in love with you. I have been for a long time," she said.
With that revelation, she gave off working over his prick with her tits and took it in her mouth. It was shocking to him, but at the same time wholly delightful, and he lay back and held her head as he wallowed in this most complete of all possible luxuries. Again she was giving him the biggest thrill of his life, and she was at the same time obviously enjoying herself thoroughly. With one hand she clawed at his bare thigh, and with the other she held firmly to the base of his cock while she moved her head up and down, sliding her full, firm lips over all she could of it, and all the while making the sounds a child makes when its mouth is full of candy.
She stopped and said, "You've got the prettiest pecker in the world. Aren't you glad I love you like I do?"
"Yeah," he said, and she covered it with kisses, loud wet ones, that had him writhing in an agony of bliss.
"You gonna go down on me next time?" she asked.
"Yes! Oh, please!" he gasped, and she chuckled, low and dirty, and sucked his prick in again. He had to hold his breath to keep from screaming, for now the ecstasy was entirely too much. She sucked it avidly, joyfully, swirling her tongue all over the head of his cock, until with an explosive groan, he began to cum.
Immediately she seemed to be cumming too. She went as wild as him, bolting upright and hugging him, kissing him, and grinding her very solid body against his erupting cock. His orgasm seemed to last forever, it went on and on, and as it did, she hotly panted, "I've always loved you. I'll do anything for you. I don't care if you don't love me, just be with me."
When at long last his orgasm ended, he lay back on the car seat, utterly spent. Betty, on the other hand, was as coyly vivacious as ever.
"Jeez, you got it all over both of us. I even swallowed some of it and I never did that before so that must mean something, eh? Still like me a little? I like you even more now. I'm not even going to take a bath tonight. I want to sleep with your cum-cum on me. Gads, it's even in my hair! When you cum, you really do it up right. You better take me home now. You going to come over and see me tomorrow? My mother will be gone all day, and we can really have some fun."
He had to kiss her good night at her door, and driving home, he kept spitting out the window, and he swore that was the last time he'd ever see her. But in bed, all the wicked delights he'd known with her came flooding back, and he decided he'd see her just one more time.
She greeted him the next day wearing a short black silk kimono, and that was all. She opened a quart of her mother's beer and they danced and necked, right there in the middle of the day. She suggested that they strip and, fortified by the beer, he did. It made the dance infinitely more exciting, what with his stiff prick rubbing against her soft belly.
"Did you bring some rubbers?" she asked.
"I... I was going to, but... but...."
"But you chickened out at the drug store," she said, laughing. "That's okay. My mother's got some in her drawer. Want to screw me, lover?"
"Oh, boy! Do I ever!" he said.
"Before you do," she said, rubbing her cunt against his balls, rubbing her tits against his chest, "you've gotta keep your promise and go down on me a little. After all, I did it to you, and I won't tell anybody, not even Mousie. And you've got to tell me you love me, even though I know you don't. But it's the only way I'll do it with a boy."
"Sure," he said, and she slung her arms about his neck and kissed him deeply.
"Let's do it on the couch. Just thinking about it has got me so hot I'm shakin'."
She had him kneel on the floor while she sat on the sagging couch, her heels hooked on its edge, her thick legs parted. She separated her cunt-lips with her pudgy fingers and asked him if he liked what he saw, and he said he did, although that was a lie. The livid pink flesh was all wet and gooey looking, and she was very hairy there and entirely gross in comparison to Bea's fine little body. But he had to do it. He'd promised her, and by then he was mad to fuck her and this was the only way to get to that. He had another big drink of beer, and she told him what to do.
Kissing her fat legs was weird, but at least it prolonged the time when he'd have to kiss her pussy. He still wasn't completely sure he could actually do it. When his kisses reached her thighs, she got a good hold on his hair, and then there was no turning back. He tried to limit it to kissing her groin, for she was extremely smelly, but it soon became clear that halfway measures wouldn't suffice with her. Sighing and squirming, gushing out hot love words at him, she kept presenting her big gash to his face. Only by thinking ahead to when he'd be fucking it could he bring himself to kiss her there.
In a surprisingly short time he was enjoying it. Once you got past the smell, they said, you had it licked, and that was certainly true. The taste wasn't nearly as bad as the smell, and by then the smell was really quite exciting. His wilted prick rose, and he clutched handfuls of her big, yielding ass and dug in, licking with ever greater enjoyment with his head nestled between those big, smooth thighs.
"Oh, Goddamn. Oh, shit. Lover, you really know how to do it. I'm cummin' all over the place. Jeez, do I ever love you! Oh. Ohhh. Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh...."
"Now let's fuck," he said, rising to his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling that he'd been turned into one great big prick by the whorish girl who was splayed so obscenely before him.
She covered her cunt with her hand. "D'you love me? Just say it."
"Shit, yes. I love you," he said.
"Am I gonna be your girl? Letterman's sweater and all?"
"Yes. Where's the rubber?" he asked.
"You don't need it. I can't get p.g. this time of the month. Take me, lover. Fuck me good."
She wasn't as tight as Bea, and she was so wet from his cunt-lapping that he got it all in easily, despite all her squealings and protestations that he was the biggest guy she'd ever known. She hugged and kissed him and told him over and over that she loved him, while he clasped her big, sweating body to his and pumped hard and fast until he was gritting his teeth and shooting his cum endlessly into her wonderful hot pussy.
"You talk about a real man," she sighed, "you're it, Jimmy. I could never get enough of you. Did you mean what you said about my being your girl from now on?"
"Sure," he said, dying to get it out of her and wash it off, terribly fearful now that she could get pregnant, no matter what she'd said. Still she clung to him.
"I feel all full of your nice warm cum-cum. How soon could you go again? I know lots of other positions."
"I don't know," he said. She smelled terrible now. How could he have possibly gone down on her?
"Let's do it again. And then maybe we could go over to your house and I could pick up your letterman's sweater. Can you feel that?"
He certainly could feel it. She'd given his prick a hard squeeze. He'd heard jokes about snapping cunts, and now he was in one. It reminded him that he was still up hard, and he shoved it in deeper.
"Oooo. That's nice. I believe I got you so hot you're ready to go already."
"I sure am. Hell, I'm always ready."
"Let's do it on the floor... doggy-style."
He pulled out his dripping prick, proudly upright, and grinned as he watched her take a position on her hands and knees. Her big buns were like a pair of moons turned up to him, split by the deep crack of her ass and cunt. He waddled forward on his knees, gripped her pallid white flesh in both hands, and shoved it in. It made her croon with delight, and he commenced a deep, strong rhythm that would quickly bring him to another big blast of an orgasm. To hell with Bea. Who needed her?
CHAPTER FOUR
When Betty Brown showed up at school in Jim's letterman's sweater, Bea was as scandalized as the rest of the student body, but she didn't show it. She brushed off the snidely-delivered sympathies of her friends and said it was of no concern to her who Jim was running around with, and only in the privacy of her room did she shed the bitter tears of her disappointment. It seemed as if her whole life was wasted, that she'd given up her best years to a callous boy whose only interest after all was in sex. But she had to go on, and with her looks and popularity, it would be no problem to show him up. She accepted several dates, only with the most eligible boys, before settling on Eddie Parkins as the most desirable one. He outshone Jim in school and on the athletic field, and his family was considerably more well off financially than the Hollisters were. Bea's going with Eddie made Jim's dirty little affair with Betty Brown look even more disgusting than ever.
But there was a price to pay, and Bea was ready to accept it. Understandably, Eddie wanted to make out with her, and she had to go along with this, especially since she had done as much of the pursuing as Eddie in their whirlwind courtship. She doled out her sexual favors as slowly as she could practically do without losing him, but this was not as slow a process as she would have liked, for Eddie was a most demanding young man.
As could be expected, he was quite handsome, with very even features and a good build. His hair was as dark as Bea's, but quite curly, and his eyes were dark blue and rather heavy-lidded. He had a way of smiling crookedly and looking at a girl sideways that most girls found to be quite thrilling, but which made Bea a little nervous. He had roving hands, too. He'd come up behind her and pinch her on the fanny, or walking down the hall he'd slip his arm around her waist and give her a fast squeeze on the tittie, and then he'd laugh at her indignation. He had his faults, but these were outweighed by his good points, and Bea felt he was more than adequate to be her steady for the rest of that semester.
He had his own car so Bea was provided with a ride to and from school, but even this had its drawbacks for he expected a necking session to go along with almost all of his rides. Bea liked to neck, but not all the time. She was usually able to put him off in the mornings, pleading that she couldn't arrive at school all messed up and panting. In the afternoons she'd do her best to include a friend in the ride home from school, but more often than not she'd wind up in Eddie's arms in some secluded place, making out, getting a little hot, and thinking about Jim. Eddie was a very smooth make-out artist, more so than Jim, but thoughts of her former boy friend persisted even at the most intimate times. Those intimate times came quickly, for Eddie assumed that Jim had been screwing Bea steadily, and he wanted the same treatment from her. Bea insisted her relationship with Jim had been a chaste one, but Eddie didn't believe that at all, pointing to Jim's current affair with Betty Brown as an example of how horny a guy he was.
They'd only been going together for a little over a week when he drove to the hills after school. He had that gleam in his eye, and Bea was feeling trembly and weak before he even parked the car. She expected him to start right in on her, but instead he opened the glove box, and grinning broadly, dropped a small flat box in her skirted lap.
"Guess what I got last night?" he said.
"What is it?" she said, picking it up.
"Rubbers, dummy, what else? Didn't you ever make Jim use them?"
She dropped them at once, and sharply said, "I told you, we never went all the way. And I told you I don't even like to talk about him. Now, take me home, will you? I've got tons of homework to do."
"Aw, hell. You've got a little time," he said, and took her in his arms.
He was strong and smooth, smelling of after-shave, very gentle and yet very firm. More and more, she was getting used to his kisses and caresses, but that day the presence of that little box had her stiff and terrified. She was thinking back to that night not long before that had started so well and ended in confusion and terror, with Jim trying to kiss her pussy and demanding that she do the same to him, with him mounting her, lunging himself painfully inside her, giving her those few moments of horrid, inescapable enjoyment, and then leaving her bloody and broken. It was all still with her from the smells to the sights to the sounds and the pain, and she felt it could never be banished.
"Relax, baby," Eddie purred at her ear. "I'm not going to use those rubbers on you if you don't want me to. I just wanted to show 'em to you. I'd never force anything on you, you know that."
"I do know it, Eddie, and I'm sorry," she said, most sincerely, and tried to put all the fervor she could in her kisses. He was a nice boy and he wouldn't hurt her as Jim had. He couldn't.
With his usual practiced smoothness, he got her bra snaps undone before she knew it, and then he used his good hands on her in just the right way. He didn't try to remove her sweater, even though he'd said he'd do just about anything to look at her breasts, for she'd told him of her modesty and he respected this. He massaged her breasts slowly and thoroughly under her sweater, and gradually his hands soothed away her tension and had her responding with kisses that were entirely sincere in their ardor.
She nibbled his ears and scratched his back, nestling closer, and together they smiled and teased the corners of each other's mouths with their tongues. She nuzzled her warm lips in his throat, and she didn't stop him from fondling her fanny, for it felt very good the way he did it. She did stop him from putting his hand up her skirt.
"Oh, no," she laughed, "you're going too fast again."
"Sometimes I just can't help it with you. You're so darned beautiful, so darned sexy. I just want to feel it, honey. I'm not going to try to get in you." His hand was still far up under her skirt, not advancing, but feeling very good the way it moved.
"You're not?" she skeptically said. "Then why did you buy those things?"
"The rubbers? I can hope, can't I? And the day you let me go all the way, I want it to be safe for us. Wow, am I ever horny. It's getting so bad it hurts."
"We better stop," she said.
He laughed and said, "I can't. Honest, any sort of pain is worth it when we're like this."
"Does it really hurt?" she asked.
He grimaced and took his hands from her to hold them crossed low over his belly. "You can't believe it."
She could see the bulge there. It wasn't as big as Jim's, but it looked just as hard, and it obviously caused him much more discomfort than Jim's had. She placed her hand on his knee. "I'm sorry."
"Like my mother used to say, sorry doesn't help. I've got a real case of lover's nuts, if you'll pardon the expression, and I don't know how much longer I can take it."
"Maybe," she said, moving, her trembling hand higher up his leg, "maybe I could help, hon."
He grinned. "Maybe you could," he said, and moved her hand up to cover the warm, hard bulge.
She began unfastening his pants. She did it quickly, on the one hand wanting to get it over with as quickly as she could, and on the other almost overwhelmed with a curiosity to see what he looked like there. He winced several times as she worked, a testimony to the discomfort she'd caused him, and he rubbed her back and told her how happy she was making him.
It sprang out, and she was amazed at how different it was from Jim's. Jim's had been immense, a great curving thing crested with a ruddy knot on its end. This was much straighter and almost slender in comparison, and the biggest wonder of all was that its end was coyly sheathed in a layer of very soft skin. She knew it was soft, for she touched it right away. It was so pink and pouting that she had to, and she found that skin to be the smoothest, softest she'd ever touched.
"Is this where it hurts?" she asked.
"No, baby. That's where it feels good. Pull it back, real slow. Oh, wow. That is the absolute greatest!"
She stopped at once, but she still kept her hand on his strong, pinkish tan organ with its foreskin drawn down to expose half of the cherry-pink head within. "You're not going to c-cum, are you?"
"Don't worry," he panted. "Not yet. Hey, you want to put a rubber on it? That way, when I do cum, I won't get anything all messed up!"
"Me put it on?" she asked.
"Sure, why not? It's just a rubber."
He took it out of the box and placed it in her hand, a flat white thing banded with colored paper, nothing at all to be afraid of. Still her hand shook as she peeled off the paper, and she didn't see how she could get it on that sturdy organ that throbbed impatiently by her side. He showed her how, and once she began rolling it down his penis, she became quite fascinated by her work. It was almost transparent, and through it she could see every line of his prick. Thin as the rubber was, it was quite strong, and the barrier it placed between them made her relax even more.
Once it was all the way on, she found she could manipulate his penis with no reluctance whatsoever, and she greatly enjoyed it, moving her hands all over the smoothly-covered organ while she kissed him and excited him even more. She even rubbed it with her knee, and he liked that a lot. She did too, but she had to stop it, fearing that her rising excitement would overcome her and in that position it would be too easy to just go on and give in to him all the way. At the thought of that, at the very idea of his shrouded prick sliding smoothly in her very wet cunt, her excitement became so great that she thought for a moment she'd faint.
Then quickly, very quickly, she closed her hands tightly over his prick and worked it up and down until he was gasping and churning and the rubber's end was magically filling with swelling spurts of his fresh young cum.
"It didn't break," she said.
He let out a long sigh and said, "They're guaranteed. You really know how to give a guy a hand job. What else do you know?" he asked, grinning.
Bea thought about the rubber a lot that night. It was quite an invention. Small enough to carry in purse or pocket, it took all the danger and mess out of sex. She thought about Eddie's penis, too. Unlike Jim's, it was actually pretty, and certainly exciting. The foreskin gave it a degree of modesty that made it quite unlike the obscenely bare prick that Jim had, and that combined with the rubber might make it quite tolerable to take inside her if Eddie became too insistent. In bed she masturbated, thinking about it as she did, but at the moment of truth, when she was thrashing and moaning under the covers, it was Eddie's prick in her, but it was attached to Jim's body.
The next day on the way to school it was Bea who suggested they park. Eddie was surprised and very pleased, and even more pleased when she took the box of rubbers from his glove compartment, put one on him with shaking hands, and gave him another hand job. It was something she had to do. She could not, however, help him in any way with the removal of it once it was filled. The box with its remaining condom went into her purse, and several times during class she surreptitiously examined it.
He bought some more rubbers, and in the next few days she willingly gave him a hand job any time he sought it. Also, she let him go farther with her, to the point of letting him take off her panties and finger-fuck her, for it was only right that they share fully in their passionate love-making, and it was all so entirely safe.
On the following Saturday night, after a party, they were again parked in the hills. Eddie had drunk some vodka but Bea had abstained, having sworn never to drink again after her drinking experiences with Jim. For the first time, Eddie was rough in his embraces, and while it added a weird element of danger and excitement to their necking session, Bea much preferred the more gentle Eddie that she had come to know, and almost to love. He was frighteningly strong, and his actions made it clear that he wanted her to do more than just manipulate his prick, standing up hard and bare from his opened trousers. He kept one hand clamped hard on the back of her neck as he mashed his booze-smelling mouth on hers, and each time she tried to reach for either his prick or the rubbers in his glove box, he drew her hand away.
"Shit, I can give myself a hand job," he said. "It's about time you came across with a little more, Baby. Let's fuck."
The very word shocked her, but she kept her head and said, "I c-can't, Eddie. I'm just starting my period." It was only a small lie, for she was due at any time, but at least it would suffice to put him off until later, when he was sober and more manageable.
"Then how 'bout a blow job?" he asked.
That really shocked her. Only pigs like Betty Brown did that sort of thing. It shocked her too the way Eddie was so obviously enjoying her distress. As she stammered her refusal, his hand closed more tightly on the back of her neck, and he inexorably started pushing her down toward that long shadowy shape jutting up from his lap.
"Eat it, baby. It'll do you good. You'll really go for it once you get a taste of it. C'mon. I don't wanna hurt you, but you're going to blow me."
It was right there before her face, only inches away, and straining up to meet her slowly-lowering head. It was absolutely unthinkable that she take it in her mouth, no matter how pretty she'd found it to be, but he was so strong and so determined there seemed to be no way to avoid it.
She fought back her terror and said, "Wait! Wait, Eddie! I'll d-do it, but you've got to wear a rubber."
"Shit, that'd be like takin' a bath with my shoes on."
"Please, Eddie! I've never done that before. It's something I have to get used to. I'll do it with the r-rubber now, and later... later I'll do it the other way."
He grumbled but he agreed. Quickly he put on the rubber, while Bea sat trembling at his side, still not knowing if she could do it, and contemplating jumping out of the car and running. But he'd catch her, and in his drunken condition, probably rape her as well as make her do that awful thing. She longed for Jim, wherever he was. She hated Eddie now, and would certainly never see him again after this awful night.
Far sooner than she was ready for, he was again pushing her down toward his lap. His penis gleamed in the pale light now, looking sickly in its rubber sheath. There was the smell of his loins, much the same as Jim's smell, but clogging her nostrils now. Why were men such brutes? How could their bodies be so much more demanding than the woman's? Hating Eddie with all her heart, she felt the thing touch her dry lips and then push its way inside her mouth.
"Yeahhhh," he sighed. "Suck that cock, baby. Suck it! That's right. No, don't use your hand on it. Just use that pretty little mouth of yours. Slide it up and down and use your tongue. Take your time and make it last, and I guarantee you'll be all turned on to cocksucking by the time you're finished."
No, she could never like this! The physical sensation of the rigid pole sliding in and out of her wasn't intolerable, and the smell wasn't bad, and it was entirely safe, but the unnaturalness of having his thing in her mouth was quite unbearable. She tried to steal her hand in to use on his shaft in order to speed the process, but he caught her at it. She had to use her mouth on it all the way, gripping it ever harder between her compressed lips, feeling its ridge through the perilously-thin rubber membrane, and being so terribly careful not to put even the smallest tear in it with her teeth.
It seemed to go on forever, while he lounged back on the seat, drinking in all the enjoyment from her work. And it was work, at least at first.
She was uncomfortably seated, she hated him, and the big thing in her mouth was completely alien and revolting to her. At first. But then she shifted around, his caressing hands on her back soothed her, and she found she could admire his penis with her mouth just as she had with her hands. She'd had ample opportunity to test the safety of rubbers, and now her confidence in its remaining intact returned. She could relax and concentrate on ways to best please him and thus get it over with quicker.
His hand, closed on her neck and he gasped and thrust it to the back of her throat, almost choking her, and panic flooded through her again. "Stay with it, baby!" he cried. "Oh, shit! Oh, sonofabitch! I'm really gonna cum!"
"Mmmmmm! Mmmmmmmm!" Bea found that she was crying out too, as best she could, while she felt the rubber's end pulsing full in her mouth. Surely it would break now, and with this helpless knowledge, her body gave up its resistance. She felt her loins relax and go all soft and wet, and something extremely contrary and perverse in her made her suck him even harder there at the end. When it was all over, he had to pull her up from him, spent and utterly weak. His words, delivered with a chuckle, revived her hatred for him.
"I told you you'd dig it. What a helluva good little cocksucker you turned out to be. Next time I might let you do it without the rubber."
There would be no next time with him, and probably not with any other man, but Bea didn't let him know her feelings until he'd driven her home. There, standing safely outside his car, she blasted and damned him and told him she never wanted to see him again. She ran into the house before he could follow her and there she brushed her teeth and used half a bottle of mouthwash, even though she'd been protected from his hot, sticky cum by the little membrane of rubber.
CHAPTER FIVE
Bea was normally like clockwork about having her period. She could predict almost to the hour when it would start, and when it didn't start on that Sunday, she became worried. She told herself, however, that its delay was because of the unusual amount of sexual activity she'd had that month, and she continued to bask in her hatred of all men, and of Eddie Parkins in particular. Her worries increased when her period still didn't start on Monday morning, and pleading illness, she stayed home in bed all day, thinking.
She knew she was pregnant. She could feel the changes happening in her body. The thought of having an abortion was terrifying to her, as was the disgrace of bearing an illegitimate child. She should tell Jim, and he'd probably marry her, but she was still terribly hurt by his actions, not only with her, but also by his having taken up with the notorious Betty Brown. Eddie was the answer. He had family, position, everything, and he'd be an ideal father for her baby and a good husband for her, once she'd trained him. It only remained for him to marry her, and she felt that he was gentleman enough to do this, if he thought her baby was his. It was a hard decision to make, but she felt it was best for her.
Tuesday she went to school on the bus. Eddie had tried to call her before that, but she refused to speak to him. He'd have his suspicions if she forgot about her anger so quickly. And at school she acted very cool toward him, hard as that was to do. She ignored Jim completely, hating him all the more, and wanting to strangle him each time she saw him with Betty Brown. On Wednesday she thawed a little toward Eddie, and on Thursday she felt it was safe to forgive him, for by then he was showing signs of interest in another girl. She smiled at him, they talked, and with great relief she accepted a date to go to a party with him on Saturday night. She looked forward to it with mixed eagerness and dread, for she knew she'd have to let him screw her then. She prepared for it by taking the one rubber she'd saved and carefully using a razor blade to weaken the end of it with several shallow cuts. Only when one looked at it very closely could it be seen that it was ready to burst, and she'd have to get him so excited he wouldn't think of inspecting it.
Was that a dirty trick to play on him? Bea told herself it was not. After all, Eddie had played a dirty trick on her, and given the chance, he'd have knocked her up just as Jim had. Furthermore, Eddie was going to get married some day anyway, and she'd make him as good a wife as any. Still, she felt so badly about it that she was close to tears almost all the time from Thursday to Saturday night.
The party promised to be a wild one. It was being thrown in one of the bigger houses in Kernville, with only the elite high school society to attend. The host's parents were gone, and several bottles of liquor had been bought. As they danced, Bea partook of the liquor and encouraged Eddie to do the same. She knew it made her feel sexy, and that was bound to help. And she knew equally well that the booze would remove any of Eddie's weakly-controlled inhibitions so that he'd screw her for sure.
It seemed he was trying on the dance floor. He held her closer than any of the other couples and murmured hotly to her of how good it was to have her back and of what fun they'd have later celebrating their reunion. She molded herself to his body and murmured back her agreement, for the first time in her life she relaxed completely in anticipation of sex and actually wanted it. Heedless of her already tarnished reputation, she clung just as tightly to him, rubbing her yearning titties against his chest and grinding her loins against the big bulge in his pants. The liquor started her on her way to feeling all wet and warm down between her legs, and his solid presence brought her the rest of the way, and she hardly thought about Jim at all. She not only let him run his hands up the back of her blouse as they danced, she pulled out his shirt-tails and caressed his bare back. She wanted the others to see how hot they were getting on this fateful night, though in truth the mood was such that each couple was more interested in themselves than in observing the actions of the others about them. They swapped tongues and felt each other as they danced, drugged by sex and liquor, and it wasn't even ten o'clock when he whispered that he knew where an unused bedroom was. She made it a point to say some giggling good-byes while Eddie made them another pair of drinks, and when at last they were alone in the dimly-lit bedroom, she almost collapsed with relief.
"We gonna take off all our clothes this time?" he purred at her ear, rubbing her back, feeling her titties.
"Yes. Oh, yes. Anything you want, lover."
"And are you gonna let me screw you?" he asked, his voice shaking. "And are you gonna maybe give me a little blow job?"
"Mmmm," she replied, smiling dreamily, utterly relaxed as he unzipped her skirt.
It fell to the floor and she shivered, but he warmed her with his hands on her ass, clutching hard, pulling her closer to him. She'd make him a good wife, he'd never know of her subterfuge, and on this night she'd give herself to him just as completely as she could, with no holds barred.
He released her and sat heavily on the bed and began pulling off his shoes and socks. His hair was disheveled and she realized he was drunker than she'd thought. Grinning crookedly, he said, "Hey, how 'bout doing a little strip for me?"
"Why not?" she said, and the reply made her realize how drunk she was.
She was beautiful too, and terrifically sexy. You could see that in his eyes as she moved to the strains of the softly-heard music from downstairs. She'd never seen a real stripper, but she knew what to do. Each button of her blouse had to be taken on as a separate and provocative project, and her nubile and thinly-clad hips had to keep moving all the time. She didn't have to think about that. Her hips, her whole body was moving instinctively, constantly, and the smile on her lips was wholly alluring without an effort to make it so.
"Yeah, baby," he breathed, struggling out of his shirt, his eyes gleaming wickedly at her. "Take it off."
She did, but in her own sweet time. Buttons open, she peeled her blouse off one shoulder, then the other, looking down at herself as she did, as if even she was fascinated by the curvaceous little body she was revealing. In fact, she was. It was a perfect body now, though soon it would be swollen with child, but now it was perfect, just perfect, and she always wanted to remember it like this, and to remember that lustful, hungry look in his eyes. She'd bought new panties and bra for the occasion, snow-white, trimmed with lace, like a wedding gown that was extremely abbreviated. The little outfit fit her perfectly, no matter how she turned to present herself to his gaze and to hers. She was getting drunker by the moment, without touching the drinks he'd brought in.
"Shake it for me," he gloated, fumbling with his trousers.
She held her arms out to her sides for this and shook her shoulders fast, making her entire body quiver and jounce, bending her knees deeply and rising sinuously, shaking it for her man all the while. She shook one bra strap off but she didn't replace it. The need to be totally naked was on her now that she could see his cock, standing straight and pink as he sat naked on the bed, but she couldn't cater to her need for nudity without finishing this dance, no matter how she wanted to. She shook the other bra strap down, then pursed her pretty pink lips and gazed at her slowly-revealed titties as the bra cups were peeled down with her moist fingertips. Beautiful titties, perfect half-spheres, tapering with delicious contours to those compact pink nipples, already hard in anticipation of his touches, his kisses. Ever dancing, she twisted her bra around and made a prolonged show out of unfastening the snaps before she flung it away and was able to dance for him in only her skimpy little panties.
"Man, you've really got the boobs," he muttered, so stirred he was rubbing his upright cock with his wrist.
She danced over to him and pushed his hand away, grinning naughtily, and said, "Nobody touches that but me... not even you."
"It's all yours, baby," he said, and getting up, he rotated his hips so that his long, slender prick swung back and forth like a flail.
She laughed and moved closer so that it struck against her tummy, and when he tried to grab her she danced across the room and with her back to him, lowered her panties and thrust out her bare buttocks at him.
"Careful," he said and laughed. "I might even stick it in there, the way I feel tonight."
She turned to face him. Terrifically bold now, she stood with feet wide apart and pulled her panties down to show him her black thatch of hair. At the same time, she made the letter 0 with her full lips, and then she said, "You've got enough other places to put it, sugar." God, but it was fun to be sexy!
"Come on! Jesus Christ, I can't wait for it any longer."
With her panties down about her thighs, she made him chase her squealing about the room. She had to let him catch her, for he was so drunk he was staggering, and when he did catch her, she felt like shinnying up his naked body as he kissed her. He clawed her panties down, with her clutching his head to her breasts so he could ease the ache in her titties with his hot kisses. He used the edge of his hand in her seething cunt, dragging it back and forth through the brimming, slippery, super-sensitive furrow, and clutching spasmodically hard at her thigh. She couldn't tell if she was cumming or not.
"On the bed," he panted, rising, pulling her on.
"Yes," she breathed, being swept along. "No! The rubber. Got to get the rubber."
"Yeah. I got one," he said.
"So do I," she said, and there was a fumble through discarded clothes, made more difficult by his grabbings and ticklings, and by her need to grab back at his prick.
He laid flat on the bed for her to put it on, and it seemed almost a shame to cover that proud pink organ with even the thinnest layer of rubber. A weird impulse to take it in her mouth all but overcame her; it made her entire body tingle with strange desire, and it made her try to work even faster with her clumsy fingers in getting on the protective sheath. He lay back through it, basking in the luxury of this attendance, and now she discovered his balls, soft and warm and very full, fringed with fine black hairs, brimming with the stuff he had to pump into her. She slid her cheek down the smoothly-covered shaft and touched her lips to them, and he moaned and pushed at her head.
"Yeah, baby. Eat me. You dig it."
"Yes," she breathed. "I want to. I will. But first, let me feel you in me." Once she'd accomplished her purpose, she'd please him in an unforgettable way.
He had her get on her back, knees up, feet spread, wet pink pussy fully exposed through the black hair that bordered those swollen lips and that unobstructed hole. She was dying for him to get it in, but he dallied, holding his prick in his hand and rubbing its end up and down her shallow trench from her vagina to her clitoris.
"Now, baby," she rasped. "Go on. Put it in."
He chuckled and said, "Now you can't wait, eh? That's good."
It hurt, but only a little, when he began stuffing it into her. His prick was so smooth, so slender, so nicely tapered on the end, that she'd expected it to slide right in, like a popsickle sliding into a child's mouth. It stuck though, perhaps because of the rubber, and panic swept through her at the thought of it bursting prematurely. She grabbed his head and pulled his smooth chest down against her bursting titties. She threw her legs about him and closed her eyes against the pain and pulled down hard, and suddenly he was all the way in, right up to the hilt, and she was filled with cock, completed, at least for the moment.
He began to move, to draw it out, and she became frantic to have it in her again. She fought for it, with her hips and her heels, and when he plunged it in again it did slide in, beautifully, and she cried out, "Oh, Ji... oh, Eddie! It feels so good!"
"Still thinking about him, eh?" he snarled. "This'll make you forget him!"
He fucked her hard then. Dear God, he was like an animal for those next moments, panting and snarling and sweating, and plunging it into her over and over, deeper and deeper. And very wonderously, she could take it all! She was glorying in it, mounting higher and higher on the wings of ecstasy, and not caring who it was that was fucking her, just as long as it didn't stop!
"Ohh! Oh, God! Yeeeeeee! Do it! DO IT!"
"Fuck," he gasped at her ear, ever pumping, driving her down into the bed. "Fuck the shit out of you!"
"Yes, fuck!" she cried. "Fuck me in the cunt with your prick! Cum in me! Cum cum CUM IN MEEEEEEE!"
"More! OH, MORE!" She could actually feel his cum -- seemingly quarts of it -- squirting hotly inside her.
"Can't... urrrrrgggggh!... give you any more. Ahhhhhh... but I will... mmmmmm... oh, baby, I sure as shit will!"
"Ahhhhhhhhhh," she sighed, arms and legs falling back from him, spent, utterly spent, fully relaxed, with her mission accomplished, her subterfuge achieved, and no subterfuge could be bad when it had been born in such ecstasy and bliss.
He heaved himself out of her and rolled off the bed to go staggering to the bathroom, and she lay there too weak to move. I've got a baby inside me for sure now, she thought, and once Eddie's through being mad at me for getting knocked up, we I'll have a lot more fucking good times like this. Hell get over it soon. I'll see to that.
He came staggering back and went straight to where he'd left the drinks. He sat heavily down on the bed with one in his hand, and he looked old now. Bea got up on one elbow, feeling extraordinarily tender, and laid her cheek against his back, stroked his shoulder.
"Still haven't had enough, eh? Neither have I. Lemme rest a minute and then you can blow me.
As if it was a privilege. Well, maybe it was. After all, she owed a lot to his cock and its need to be in her. It would save her from disgrace, and she should worship it, but she couldn't yet bring herself to do it without a rubber, and he'd said he had another one. He would.
Naked on the bed with him, she felt very adult -- one part tender mother, one part loving wife, and a third part knowledgeable mistress as she toyed with his sweet limp prick. Soft and pink and harmless now, she adroitly used her fingers to bring it stirring up to its former state of rampant manhood. She shushed him when he tried to stir, wanting to give completely to him and receive nothing in return, needing to prove her love for him, even though it had as yet gone unspoken.
It came up with satisfying quickness. With one hand curled around it, she used the other to trace the faintly blue, slightly-elevated veins on it and toyed up and down with its foreskin, wholly absorbed by its elasticity. While once she'd been afraid of penises, now she couldn't let go of it as she groped on the floor for another rubber.
"Kiss it a little," he said, "before you put that on.
She did. She touched trembling lips to its glowing pink end, and as she lovingly rolled the rubber down its sturdy shaft, she could clearly feel the burning imprint it had made on her mouth. When she wet her lips she could taste it, and the taste could be felt to the depth of her bowels. Hungry then, starved, she sucked it in as far as it would go, and such a feeling of desire flooded through her that she had to clutch her hand to her pussy to keep the good feelings within her. With one hand on her pussy and the other on his cock, she sucked it with ever-increasing ardor as he lay there moaning, clutching at her head, enjoying himself thoroughly as he would on so many other times to come. She rolled his balls in the hand she'd been using in her pussy, mixing their sex exudations and breathing deeply of their combined fragrance, and she was so perfectly attuned to sex at that moment that she knew exactly how strongly to caress him there, knew precisely how best to please him. But she couldn't do that for long; her pussy itched too much.
She longed for him to touch her there, but his hands were too preoccupied in holding her head, and with her mouth filled with hugely-satisfying cock, there was no way she could tell him of her need. She resumed clawing at her burning vulva, continued scratching at her bursting clit, and it made her even hungrier for his cock.
"Goddamn!" he groaned. "You really know how to do it, baby. Ahhhh," he moaned, forcing her head down even harder, and she felt something give, and all of her taste buds were suddenly atingle with that flavor she'd been seeking all along.
Now she was truly drunk. Muted cries were issuing forth from her throat as with sheer delight she feasted on that flavor and the indescribably-good texture that went with it. She couldn't stop her hands from flying, one in her cunt, one wrapped around that delicious prick, and as a huge wave of passion broke over her, it began to erupt in her mouth.
"Mmmmmmmm!" she cried, and through her orgasmic ecstasies she realized that the wrong rubber had burst in her, but still she couldn't stop sucking. Jet after hot jet of it gushed into her mouth, and she had to swallow wildly to keep from losing even one drop of it as he thrashed and moaned under her supplicant head. Hell marry me anyway, she thought, he'll have to after I've done this for him. That made another orgasmic maelstrom break loose in her, and she went on sucking and swallowing wildly until he had to stop her, cum drooling out the corners of her mouth, panting and spinning with excitement.
"Whew!" he said, and laughed, rumpling her hair with his hand. "You really did get turned on to sucking cock. Man, you almost turned me inside Out. You really went for it when that rubber busted."
Panic seized her and she blurted, "You've got to marry me! The... the other one busted too -- I could feel it! -- and I just know I'm P-g-' His smile turned sour and he said, "If you are, kiddo, it ain't by me."
She'd ruined it. Everything was gone, but still she had to try to salvage something, and her sudden tears made it all the more difficult. "Listen to me, Eddie," she sobbed, clutching at his hand, "I'll be so good to you. I'll do anything you want -- any time. But please marry me. You've got to!"
He shoved her away. "I don't have to do a goddamn thing, you goddamn cocksucking nympho. I had your number all along. Shit, I had a bet with the boys that I could lay you inside of three weeks, and I just won it in spades."
"Don't say that, Eddie. Please! Come back!"
She fell to the floor grabbing at his hand as he heaved himself off the bed, and she followed him on her knees as he snatched up his pants and left. Utterly broken, she clung to the doorknob and wept great, bitter tears.
CHAPTER SIX
The remaining two weeks of school were sheer hell. Eddie Parkins blabbed, and in no time the rumor was circulating that Bea Hadley was knocked up and had fucked so many boys she had no idea who the father was. It was difficult to hold her head up, harder still to face the hypocritically-sympathetic looks of her former friends, and if she'd had the courage she'd have slashed her wrists. And then, surprisingly, Jim Hollister approached her one day after school.
"I heard you're in a family way," he said, looking grave.
"It's no business of yours. Go away!" she snapped.
"I think it is my business. I think I'm the father."
"Well, you think wrong! I'm not pregnant and even if I was I wouldn't admit you were the father."
"Honey, I still love you. I want to marry you, no matter what you've... no matter what."
"No matter what I've done?" she spat at him. "Well, I've done a lot since I dumped you! Eddie Parkins wasn't the only one I slept with, but by God, he'll be the last, the very last, and that includes you! Now, go 'way! Leave me alone! I don't need you or your sympathy! Go... go fuck Betty Brown!"
At home that night Bea was called from her room to find her parents, Jim, and Mr. and Mrs. Hollister -- all looking very grim -- waiting for her in the living room. She could only hang her head while it went on, her father ranting, her mother trying to soothe him, Mr. and Mrs. Hollister shaking their heads, and Jim remaining silent. They settled it all, and she let it happen. The arrangements were made, and Bea became Mrs. James Hollister on the day after school let out.
They moved in with his parents, and it was all so humiliating. She didn't have morning sickness; it was an all-day sickness that seized her. All day she was wracked by nausea, and Mrs. Hollister's sanctimonious duckings didn't do a bit toward relieving it. At night she cried a lot, curled up in the bed in her husband's room with its football pennants and childish mementoes, refusing to let him even touch her. He got a job, of course, for their parents couldn't be expected to foot the bills. Of all things, it was at a horse ranch, and his coming home exhausted and smelling of manure did little toward rebuilding their once-idyllic romance.
She suffered pains right from the start, which the doctor said were psychosomatic but which were very real to her, and his almost daily treatments for her were running the bills up. Still she could do nothing about how she felt. Pills and shots didn't help, and neither did hating both Jim and Eddie for what they'd done to her. Her only consolation was the baby growing inside her. She couldn't hate him, no matter how she tried, and her solace came in projecting herself into the future where she could dream of raising him in a strange city, all by herself, without the social stigma of the townspeople knowing that hers had been a forced marriage.
It wasn't a good summer, and it wasn't a good year. Business was bad, everything was bad. Jim's father suffered a minor stroke, and some said it was because of the worry produced by his son's troubles, but whatever the cause of it, he could no longer work at his service station and there were more doctor bills to pay. The company where Bea's father worked started laying off, and while Bea's father kept his job, there was no more overtime pay to look forward to. Only Jim kept working, slogging through the horse shit and bringing home the most meager of paychecks. Bea didn't care. Let them all suffer as she was, and once her baby was born, she'd leave town and some day pay them all back -- both for the money she owed them and for the suffering. She stayed in the house as much as she could, and on the few times she ventured out, she dreaded seeing Eddie Parkins running around in his car with some new girl at his side.
The fall semester began and neither Jim nor Bea registered for school. She couldn't; she was too sick. He wouldn't; he felt he had to keep on bringing home his paltry paycheck. A frost settled down over both the Hadley and the Hollister households, and even though Bea knew that she was the eye of that ice storm, she didn't care. She no longer left the house, waiting only for the day her child would be born and she could run off somewhere with him.
The baby was born in February and it was a boy, just as she'd known it would be all along. She hadn't known how painful the birth would be, but once it was over she was even glad for the pain, for along with it came the news that she'd never be able to bear another baby. She nursed her infant son, and this was the only physical pleasure she'd known in almost nine months. She loved to hold him and snuggle him and she resented even the smallest attentions given him by his father or his grandparents. She also resented his being named James Jr., for it would always remind her of what Jim had done to her, but she accepted the name because it was on the birth certificate before she had anything to say about it.
When Jimmy was a month old, Jim informed Bea that he'd rented a house for them. It was a tiny place in a poor location but at least it was their own, and she took some interest in it and fixed it up quite attractively with what little money they had. Their old friends started coming around to see them now that they were out from the wing of their parents and now that they had shown they were sticking it out. They seemed like romantic idealists to their friends, but to Bea they still seemed like frustrated high school kids who had had very bad luck. Although they received many invitations, they did not attend the commencement exercises of their class.
It was the first anniversary of their marriage before Jim screwed her. He brought home champagne and flowers which he could ill afford and which she did not want, and after he was a little tipsy and had made many unwanted advances at her, she gave in and let him do it. She literally let him do it. She did nothing to help him, remaining unmoved and unmoving throughout his labors, and afterward told herself it was as painful and unpleasant an experience as the first time. She knew she should leave him, but he adored their son and there was really nothing she could qualify to do on her own. They settled down to a truce, living together as man and wife, raising their son, but in no way experiencing the true joys of married life.
Jim managed to advance himself even in the livestock business, even without a full education, and soon was traveling throughout the surrounding countryside as a livestock auctioneer, making better and better money. They improved their living conditions and Bea proved talented at fixing up a house and selling it for a profit. Externally they were an ideal couple who had thrived despite great odds against them. Internally they tolerated each other for the sake of their growing son, and the only time they made love was when they'd been drinking, and then not at all satisfactorily to either of them. Ed Parkins married while he was away at college, and the sight of him with his beautiful wife and lovely young children riding around in a new Buick from the agency his father had given him, was bitter gall to both Bea and Jim, though neither of them ever mentioned this.
Jimmy grew up to be the image of his father, a sturdy boy with brown hair and wide shoulders and the same ready smile his father had once had. He was filled with ambition, and at the expense of his social life at school, he worked hard at his early morning paper route. Bea helped him with this, especially on rainy days. She was extremely close to her son -- too close, Jim said. But his opinion mattered little to Bea. He was usually gone, handling some livestock sale by day and shacking up with some bar room floozy at night, and that was fine with Bea. She didn't need him, she never had, and she never would, in her opinion. He had given her a son, and in exchange she had given him a nice home and some stature in the community, and after fourteen years of married life, she looked forward to the time when Jimmy would be out on his own and she could get a divorce.
Bea's major social activity was her bridge club. She went to it faithfully every Wednesday, but on one fateful Wednesday in the spring she arrived at the house of its hostess to find that the hostess' son was quite ill with an asthma attack and the afternoon card game had been called off. There was some discussion about holding the game elsewhere but the ladies present at last decided to simply skip that Wednesday and all went off to attend to business of their own.
Bea went home, planning on making some new curtains for Jimmy's room. At thirty-two years old she was still an extremely-attractive woman, widely envied for having retained much of her girlish high school figure while her contemporaries had grown fatter and softer. Some of these contemporaries, she knew, would be off to assignations with their lovers, for this sort of thing was as common in Kernville as it is in any town of that size. She looked on this behavior with derision, although at times she dreamed of the future when she could be off on her own and then safely meet a man who'd give her all the things she'd missed for so very long. Entering the house, though, all she was thinking about that day was the curtains and how pleased Jimmy would be with them.
He was a good boy and not above expressing his pleasure over things such as new curtains or a new dress that Bea had bought for herself. Jim scoffed at this sort of behavior, calling it unmanly, but Bea saw nothing at all wrong with it and averred that it proved he was an independent spirit, much the same as herself. Entering the house that day, she knew he wouldn't be home from school yet, since he was going to be in a school play and had been rehearsing for it. She made no effort to be quiet, and neither did she call out for him on entering. She found him, though, when she went to his room, and the sight of him lying on his bed was so shocking that she very nearly fainted.
He was asleep on his bed, lying on his bed with one arm over his head and the other laid across his belly. He was sleeping restlessly, tossing his head from side to side, a troubled look on his face. A glossy magazine lay open by his side, and from its slick pages leered buxom naked girls. Jimmy's pants were open and they and his shorts had been pushed down about his thighs. His penis was standing straight up, slender and pink, its erection drawing his scrotum up so that his testicles were clearly outlined. A pair of her panties lay by his head.
Bea felt ill and had to lean against the door jamb. It seemed incredible to her that her little boy masturbated, but it was all too obvious that he did. She knew boys masturbated and indeed she'd done it herself on occasion, but to think of Jimmy doing it and to actually catch him in the act was almost too much to bear. She clutched at her churning stomach, stared at his stiff little penis, and realized with a sinking feeling that her rubbery legs and suddenly sweaty armpits and crotch were because she was hot, hotter than she'd been in years.
It had come on her as quickly as the snap of her fingers. Her eyelids and lips felt swollen and heavy, and each shallow breath pushed her breasts hard against her bra. Her buttocks itched, and between her legs she could feel the warm moisture breaking out. She walked forward on tiptoe, and even the light friction of her garments against her body was adding to her awful excitement. She couldn't take her eyes off his prick as he lay there breathing heavily in his troubled sleep, and she longed to moan as he was doing. He didn't awaken when she sat on the edge of his bed.
She picked up the panties. They were bright red, and she hadn't noticed they'd been missing. They were soiled, so he'd taken them from the clothes hamper. The girls in the book looked like tramps. They were all stark naked and some were holding open their pussies to make themselves even more naked. None of them, she felt, were as good looking as she was. Did he think of her when he masturbated? She looked at his prick again, and it made her feel all loose and open down below. She could distinctly feel her juices flowing, dammed up by the crotch of the panties she was wearing. Her mouth was dry and she was dying for a drink.
His prick was absolutely beautiful. Contrary to his father's wishes, he had not been circumcised at birth, and now that his prick had grown to almost man-sized, the foreskin of his penis reminded her of nothing more than a miniature pair of the most exquisitely-erotic lips, puckered, waiting to be kissed. She licked her lips and tried to control her deepening breathing as she gazed at the tapered knob outlined under the foreskin and looked with heavy-lidded eyes at that slender shaft, so very pink and straight. She sat twisting the red panties in her hands, her entire body seething with hot desire now, and no way in the world to control it. She looked at the door. They were safe. No one could see mother and son in this wonderfully erotic tableau, and when her gaze returned to his prick, her badly-shaking hand crept over her skirted thigh toward it.
She only wanted to touch it and then she'd leave. He wouldn't awaken, and she could decide later what to do about his masturbation, later when her head was clear. Heat from his young body radiated against her hand. The hairs on his sturdy young legs were golden, while those that fringed his beautiful little prick and balls were brown and sweetly curled. Her heart was beating so loudly that she thought it would wake him, but he slept on, moaning softly, stirring restlessly, surely dreaming of her. She tensed her hand to try to quell its shaking, and with utmost care touched thumb and forefinger to the head of his prick.
The skin was even softer than it looked, the concealed glans even harder, and he did not awaken when she very cautiously tested its hardness. Instead he smiled and sighed, and Bea, panting now, very slowly drew the foreskin down, compelled to see the rest of his flower-pink glans. The foreskin stretched, the sweet forbidden fruit was being shown to her by degrees, and at last it was revealed in all its glowing glory as the sheath slid down over the ridge of his glans. She had to leave it as it was. She used three fingers to try to slide it up, and he clutched at the bedclothes as a droplet of sparkling clear fluid oozed out of the tiny pouting mouth there, and the sight of it filled Bea's mouth with saliva.
The foreskin wouldn't stretch enough to close at the top, but it would go down again, even easier this time, for his seminal fluid was now there in a glistening smear to act as a lubricant. She had to open her legs as she again drew it down, for now her cunt was on fire.
"Awwwwwww," he moaned, and a jet of white shot high in the air.
At once Bea was infused with horror. It even overcame her huge sexual excitement, and she became frantic to stop the ejaculations of the now-thrashing boy. She clamped her hand closed on it in her panic, and his next moan was one of agony as he too clutched at his loins.
"Mom, noooo!"
"Stop it! You've got to stop it!" she cried, completely beside herself now as yet another strong jet of his pure white cum sprang from between her fingers. For the next few seconds she didn't know what she was doing. Her hands worked separate from the rest of her, as one of them rapidly stroked that strong, shooting shaft and the other covered the erupting end of it with her panties, pressing it down against his tensed belly and rubbing it hard until the convulsions of his little balls at last stopped and he lay still, hands over his face, weeping.
Completely shaken, she got up and walked to the window to look out and collect herself. Her swollen cunt-lips were slowly retracting to something like normal size, and she could distinctly feel a rivulet of her juices trickling down her inner thigh. Her brain was fully alert, but her body was heavy and relaxed, exactly as she'd remembered it to be after having had an orgasm. She held her right hand where he couldn't see it, the fingers spread wide apart, for his cum was all over it. His crying was agonizing to her, but she kept her face stern when she turned to face him.
"James, how often do you do this disgusting thing?" He'd pulled up his pants, and if he hadn't, she'd never have been able to go on in these harsh tones.
"I didn't mean to...." he said.
"Didn't mean to! With that disgusting magazine and with my... with those woman's pants there? Of course you meant to! Now, how often do you do this? Tell me!"
"Maybe... once a month?" he said hopefully.
"Don't you lie to me. I'll tell your father if you do." Like his father as a boy, Jimmy's ears and cheeks reddened under stress, and now they were scarlet.
"A couple times a week. Sometimes more," he mumbled, slowly sitting up, trying to hide the magazine behind him.
"You hand that over!" she said, holding out her left hand, glowering fiercely. "The underwear too! What else do you have like that?"
"Nothin'. Honest."
"If I find out different...." She let the threat trail off, and accepting the magazine and the panties, stalked out of his room. Leaving, she said, "You haven't heard the end of this, young man! Don't you dare leave your room."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bea was far from being an alcoholic, but at that moment she had to have a drink. She went to the family room bar and set the erotic materials down on it, then stared at her right hand with his cum drying on it. Without another thought she licked it clean, and the moment she'd finished the desire and the shame were back on her in full force. Three ounces of Scotch whiskey with no ice or mix purged her of her conflicting feelings and left her coughing and choking. She mixed a second drink more properly and sat down to stare out the big picture window.
It was a problem she'd have to solve by herself. As usual, Jim was out of town for a few days, but he wouldn't be any help anyway. He'd probably prescribe a spanking to cure Jimmy of his bad habit, and that simply wasn't the way to do it. Reason was the way to help him, not corporal punishment. And what about her problem? Or was it really a problem at all, or just a fleeting impulse that she'd given in to? That really didn't matter; what was important was helping Jimmy to overcome his masturbation habit before it got the better of him, for Bea was confident that she could handle any problem of her own with ease, just as she'd always done.
Thinking, she watched the familiar people pass by her window, and over another drink she decided that each had his own problems, some more severe than hers, some much simpler. She was relaxing, but she could relax more, she knew, if she was out of her tight sticky street clothes. She mixed herself another drink and went to her bedroom and undressed, thinking as she did that this period of isolation was just what Jimmy needed before she had her talk with him.
Looking at her naked shape in the mirror, she could certainly see why he'd harbor some secret desires for her. Indeed, her figure was better than it had been in high school. She posed and postured for herself, smiling at her image over the rim of her glass, and she could find no fault in the up-tilting swell of her breasts and the back-thrusting curves of her buttocks. Her waist was still as slim as it had been in high school, back in those days when her charms had been referred to as titties and ass and pussy. If Jimmy could see her now, his little prick would spring to attention.
She picked up her panties, as soiled as those she'd left on the bar, and sniffed at them and made a face. Rank but mysterious, just the thing to get an inexperienced boy like him aroused. That was his trouble, really, he was inexperienced. He hadn't made love to a girl yet, of that she was certain, and the only naked women he'd seen were those horrible models in the magazine. She almost wished he was peeping at her through the key-hole then, for that would remove all the mystery from her and at the same time end his infatuation with her. The thought of him actually peeping at her sent hot chills through her which she fought down by draining her drink.
She walked naked through the house to get another one, quite tense, hoping he'd disobeyed her and they'd run into each other somewhere. He was nowhere to be seen, but passing by the picture window was a boy his age that she knew, and she smirked as she visualized what his reaction would be if he chanced to look in the house at that moment. She switched her ass jauntily as she returned to the bedroom and smiled at the way her titties bounced so nicely.
Apparently red was his favorite color, and she had just the thing for that. Years ago, before Jim had started sleeping with all the barflies he met on the road, he'd given her a red nightie. She'd never worn it but it was still around, and she got down on hands and knees to rummage in the back of her bottom drawer until she found it. She held it up before her. It was impractically thin, so sheer you could see right through even two layers of it to the dark circles of her nipples, and it had a pair of matching panties that were still pinned to it. She put it on. The neckline was lower than she'd thought it would be, and her titties were still quite firm enough to poke out insistently at the front of it and to show most exotically creamy swells above the frilly neckline, which was trimmed with black lace. It had no sleeves, and when she raised her smooth arms, her furry black crotch could be seen. She put on the panties, they were pleated the same as the top. They fit her just a little loosely, giving her a nice feeling of freedom of movement, and they showed her black triangle in a most provocative way. She put a red ribbon in her hair, and felt very young. She thought about taking a shower but instead perfumed herself heavily. Then she looked and smelled like a real sexpot, and she knew the sight of her thus would forever rid her son of any desires for his mother. He'd peeped at her before when she was in a skimpy house robe, of this she was certain, and after he saw her like this there'd be no need for any future peeping or for any future lustful thoughts toward her.
She went in and mixed herself another drink, just to build up her courage. She wasn't drunk, and she knew she was doing the right thing. The situation could be likened to that when a puppy had dirtied on the floor -- just rub his nose in it, and he'd never do it again.
She realized it was getting dark. She'd been thinking and drinking too long. Although she wasn't hungry at all, she went into the kitchen just a little unsteadily and put two TV dinners in the oven to heat, for nothing ever interfered with Jimmy's appetite. Then, stiff-backed, she went to have it out with him.
He was lying on his bed just as she'd left him, save that he'd fastened up his pants. His arm was over his eyes and she felt a pang of sympathy for him, for he obviously felt terribly bad about it already. If she hadn't made up her mind, she'd have turned around and left, but now she had to go through with it, and to show herself to him and have done with it.
"You awake, Jimmy?" she said, entering his room.
"Yeah," he murmured, and then he looked at her. His eyes went very wide and he swallowed visibly. The strangest look she'd ever seen came over his face and he gripped the rumpled covers and pushed himself toward the head of the bed, away from her, just as she wanted. She remained externally calm, though the ice cubes tinkled in her glass.
"D'you have any more o' thoshe dirty booksh... books, Jimmy?"
"N-no, ma'am," he said, his voice barely audible, his wide eyes flicking up and down her near nude body.
"Y'r blushing. I can always tell when y'r fibbing to me, Jimmy, 'cause then you blush. Where are they? They're not good for you."
His voice cracked as he said, "Honest, Mom, that's the only one I have."
She regarded him somberly as she sipped her drink. She was drunker than she'd thought. Her head was buzzing and her body felt loose and disjointed, but she had to go on with it now, and perhaps Jimmy's seeing her drunk would further turn him off. He wasn't turned off yet, though. At the moment he was very much aroused, but this would pass once the familiarity of seeing her thus set in.
"Don't fib, James. Where do you keep them? In your bureau drawer?"
"Honest, Mom," he pleaded, and sat up, bunching his knees before him.
"Then I'll jus' have to see for myself. And if you're lying...." She went right to the bottom drawer. That was where he'd hide them. She went through his clothes on her knees, and reaching a pair of pajamas, tossed them at him and said, "Here, put these on. You're not going anywhere tonight. Maybe never unless we get to the bottom of this and you stop lying."
"Aw, heck," he grumbled, and started for his bathroom.
"Do it here," she said, but why in the world had she said it? Although she'd seen him countless times naked before, now the prospect of it obviously frightened him. It frightened her too, but she couldn't for the life of her tell him to go on in the bathroom to change.
He did it behind her back, but even the rustling of his clothes was doing things to her. She was dizzy with more than the drinks now, and she swayed back on her heels as she rose to look through his top drawers. He was staring at her. She could feel it. He was admiring her lush little shape, so clearly revealed through the flimsy nightie, and he was getting hot. She couldn't help herself then, she had to glance up in his bureau mirror, and when she saw his lean young body naked, just stepping into the pajama pants and all crouched over to hide his prick, she felt a warm wet cavity opening up inside her tummy. She looked quickly away, but the image stuck.
"Where'd you get that filthy book?" she said, again rummaging in his drawer.
"From a guy at school," he sullenly replied. "And honest, Mom, it's the only one I have. You don't have to look in there for more. Honest to gosh, Mom."
"We'll see what we'll see," she said, looking at him sternly in the mirror, relieved to see that he'd pulled up his pajama bottoms. His hairless chest looked so smooth.
Bea was about to give up the search and start on the lecture she'd planned when something caught her eye, instantly electrifying her. She snatched it up, a pair of yellow bikini panties embroidered with a green Tuesday, and whirling, she brandished them in his face, furious.
"Whose are these? Have you had a girl in this room? Where'd you get them? You answer me! Now!"
The scarlet was spreading down his chest as he backed away from her wrath, closing the pajama tops protectively about him. Close to tears, he stammered, "They're a girl's at school. She... she lost them... she forgot about them after dress rehearsal for the play and... and...."
"And you are lying!" Bea stormed, quivering with rage, shaking the little garment six inches before his face. "Tell me where you got them! Have you been screwing some little tramp at school? What do you do with them? Do you ma-ma-ma jack off with them? You answer me!"
He began to cry and she felt so sorry for him that she put her arm about him and hugged him to her. He turned his face from hers and tried to shrink away, and she backed off, her fury abated but still resolved to see this through.
"Take them," she said, holding them out. "Take them and blow your nose on them and then flush them down the toilet. Go on, Jim, or your father will hear all about this. And then we'll talk."
He took the bit of nylon in his hand and slowly, as if the panties were made of sandpaper, he wiped his nose. Shoulders slumped, he went dejectedly into the bathroom, with his mother right behind. Quickly he threw the panties into the bowl and wiped his hands before reaching for the flushing lever.
"No," she said, grabbing his wrist. "First pee-pee on them."
"What?" he said, incredulous.
"You heard me," she said, her voice rising with the almost religious fervor she felt. "Piss on them, urinate on them before you flush them away!"
"Honest to God, Mom, I'll never do it again. I'll never look at another dirty book and I'll never...."
"You heard me!" she cried, her voice shatteringly loud in the little tile room. She grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. "Piss on that dirty thing! Do it!"
Looking at her sidelong out of fear-filled eyes, he fumbled out the fat pink worm of his prick and pointed it in the right direction. She released his neck and slid her hand down his back, repeating her command, but nothing happened. "Go on, Jimmy," she said more softly, rubbing the small of his back, relaxing him. A lovely warm shiver rippled through her as the first drops spurted out to tinkle in the water where the little panties floated, and she slid her hand about his waist and murmured, "That's it, Jimmy! Oh, you're such a good boy when you want to be. Get it all out, darling. Pee-pee all over them, dear."
She watched with glinting eyes, the healthy smell of it causing her nostrils to flare, and she licked the soft slick pillow of her underlip as she listened to the tinkle. And as she watched his prick slowly swelled in his hand, the yellow stream diminishing while the pink head was gradually pushing its way through the darker folds of his foreskin. A wonderful tingling rippled through her body and she felt like she might lose control of her bladder as the angle of his prick inclined and the arc of his urine rose to splash on the porcelain just above the water level.
"Get it all out, Jimmy," she said in a hoarse whisper. "All of it, Jim," she said, and squeezed him tightly about the waist, feeling his sturdy body with hers.
He moaned and his prick began jerking. Up it went, higher with each of his rapid heartbeats, until it was standing stiff with just one drop of his urine glistening on its end, and Bea had to clasp her thighs very tightly together to keep from having an orgasm.
He wrenched away and she came to her senses. Hands before him, he went into his room, and Bea flushed the toilet and followed, walking stiffly, mentally shaking her head to clear it of the booze and the awful thoughts running rampant in it.
He was already under the covers, and she sat primly on the bed and gave him the lecture she'd composed before. She told him that masturbation was very bad for a boy, and that an excess of the practice would prevent him from ever being wholly satisfied by a woman. She told him that fooling with women's underwear was very bad as well, and that this might lead to homosexuality. He confessed he'd gotten the panties from a tease at school in exchange for five dollars, and that he'd spent another four dollars of his paper route money for the magazine. He said the girl's name was Sharon Marks and the boy's was Philip Groton. He promised faithfully that he'd never masturbate again, and Bea forgave him and said she'd get his dinner.
In the kitchen, she had to lean against the sink and breathe deeply for several minutes before she could get the TV dinners out, even though she could already smell them smoking. She put on a robe before bringing him his dinner on a tray, and she told him to eat it in bed and stay in his room, for she had to go out on an errand. It took all the remnants of her control to kiss him chastely on the forehead and walk out of his room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Even though Bea realized by then she was quite drunk, she made herself a final drink. She held the icy glass against her forehead, but it failed to quench her feverish thoughts nor did it still the pounding of her heart. She was in the family room with the lights turned low, and any passerby could have looked in and seen her standing at the bar in her robe, looking dejected and beaten. Defiantly she shrugged off the robe and took a deep draught of her highball, hoping that some hard-up young boy would see her from the sidewalk and turn toward the house, his lovely little prick rising in his pants. Without looking, she could almost see him stealthily crossing her lawn, mouth open, eyes staring.
She stretched in a very languorous way, drawing her hands up her flimsily-clad body until they were extended over her head and she was swaying like a willow in the wind. She let her pent-up passions flow and frankly caressed her titties, looking down at them and smiling, and she could actually feel the young peeper's stares boring into her most womanly parts. She yawned, as if ready for bed, and turned a lazy smile toward the big window, and smoldering anger rose in her when she saw no handsome young face there, no nose pressed to her window.
Quickly she retreated behind the bar, crouched down now to work at her drink. Dear God, it was bad enough having the erotic thoughts she then had, but what if one of her neighbors had seen her? Her indiscretion would mean total disgrace, something she'd never live down, and her past indiscretions had already brought her enough disgrace to last for a lifetime. She couldn't help her thoughts, for they had too strong a hold on her, but she could do something about keeping them a secret. After all, she wasn't a child any longer and she knew something about being cautious. She was smart now, smart enough to even be able to indulge in her long-suppressed desires as long as she was careful, and flaunting herself at the window was being anything but smart and careful.
The realization that she could indeed indulge her perverted cravings gave her a sudden feeling of nausea and she had to hang her head and cling to the bar. She remained thus for several minutes, and when she raised her head she was smiling and her eyelids were heavy.
She moved quickly now in the wake of her indecision. She went to Jimmy's room and saw that he was sleeping, and probably dreaming dreams of her. In her bedroom she put on her slippers and exchanged the house robe for a light, knee-length coat. When it was belted up, it looked as if she was properly dressed. She took her purse and went through the kitchen entry to the garage and opened the big door. It was a clear night with just a touch of chill in the air that crept up her bare legs, making her cunt feel even warmer in comparison. She got in her car and quietly backed it out onto the deserted suburban street. When she was well out of the neighborhood, headed in the direction of the highway that led to Mountain Grove, she loosened the belt on her coat and slipped her hand inside to massage her lower abdomen through the thin nylon as she peered through the windshield, hunting.
She passed several men, both walking and driving hungrily hunting themselves, but she didn't slow the car for them. There were a few women out too, and Bea smiled at the knowledge that she wasn't the only frustrated female in Kernville. The number of buildings was diminishing and she was almost out of town before she saw her prey. He sat slumped on the bench of a bus stop, hands thrust deep in the pockets of his jacket, heels on the curb, a tow-headed boy who couldn't have been more than fifteen. If it wasn't for his hair, from a distance he could have been Jimmy, and at the sight of him Bea began shaking again and had to use both hands on the wheel. Her voice was clear and cheerful, however, when she stopped the car next to him and spoke to him through the passenger's window.
"Is this the way to Mountain Grove?" she asked.
"Huh?" He was a handsome boy, and his startled expression made him look even younger. He straightened up, blinking, and said, "Yeah, it's about twenty miles."
It was an enormous relief to see that he wasn't anyone Jimmy knew. Bea smiled very warmly and tried not to stammer as she said, "I'm headed that way and... and... could I give you a lift?"
He pointed at his chest and his mouth fell open, and then he scrambled off the bench and fairly burst into the car. She started driving, all raw nerves again. He sat with his hands in his lap, looking at her from the corner of his eye, saying nothing. Now that she had him, she didn't know what to do with him. But now that she'd come all this way through the labyrinth of her conscience, she couldn't let him go without getting all she had to have.
"I couldn't sleep," she explained, "so I decided to take a drive. We're new in town... I just moved here and I don't know my way around yet. Do you live in Mountain Grove?"
"Yes'm," he said, his voice barely audible. He was still looking sidelong at her, probably more scared than she, and that bolstered Bea's confidence. She flashed him a smile.
"I'll bet you came all the way over here on the bus to see a girl. Am I right?"
"No, ma'am. I was visiting my sister and her husband."
"I'll just bet. A handsome boy like you, I imagine you have half a dozen girls in Kernville and goodness knows how many in Mountain Grove." He wrung his hands and looked away, and she asked, "Do you have many girl friends?"
"I know a couple, but... no," he said.
"Tsk, tsk. You should do something about that." She looked him over, her gaze frankly lingering at his tightly-clenched hands in his lap. By the few street lights that were that far out of town, she could tell he was blushing. "What's your name?"
"Paul. Paul Lane," he said.
"That's a nice name. Mine is Betty Brown. I've always hated it. It's so plain. How old are you, Paul?"
"I'm going on sixteen."
The same age as Jimmy. What incredible good luck! "You're old enough to take care of yourself, aren't you?"
"I guess so." He was looking at her again, staring at her, and she shifted to let her coat fall open and reveal her bare legs.
"I went to bed early tonight but I just couldn't sleep. You see? I just threw a coat on over my nightie and jumped in the car." She held her coat open wide, and he gasped at the sight of the skimpily-covered body this revealed to him. Her laugh was deep and throaty, and she said, "I don't suppose you get many rides from women as indecently-dressed as this. I hope I'm not shocking you, Paul."
"No, ma'am! I just... Boy...." he said.
She chuckled and said, "Oh, dear, now I really have shocked you. If you like, I'll cover up, but...."
"That's okay!" he quickly said, turning now to face her.
"I love to drive around like this at night. I couldn't stand being in my bed any longer. I'm horny, that's what the trouble is. Just a horny old woman on the loose, so horny she can't even stand to have any clothes on. Paul?"
"Yes'm?"
"Roll up your window, will you, and then help me off with my coat."
He smelled like bubble gum and clean sweat, both of which were most familiar odors to Bea, but now those odors were acting like an aphrodisiac as he gingerly did as she'd asked. She could feel his warm breath on her shoulder as it was bared, and the light touch of his fingers on her bare back sent hot chills coursing through her. When she was stripped down to her little nightie and panties, he sat closer, staring, but still he didn't act.
She put her perspiring hand on his knee and squeezed it and he jumped. "What's wrong? Afraid of me?"
"N-No."
"Don't be. I'm just a lonely woman, out looking for a little excitement, a little fun. Would you be afraid of me if I parked the car?" she asked, already slowing down to turn up a little used road she knew of.
"Heck, no," he replied, squirming, looking around.
"Good," she said, and parked the car and set the brake. She turned to face him, her right leg drawn up on the seat, her arm across the back of the seat. She was smiling, knowing she looked incredibly beautiful to him. She'd never been so excited before in her life. "You are afraid of me. You're afraid to even touch me."
"No, I'm not. I'm just... well...."
"Well?" she said, and took his hand in hers, laughing softly. "It's all right if you're a little shy. I kind of like that. And if you're afraid to touch me, I'll help you."
She placed his hand on her knee. It was moist and warm and shaking, and utterly thrilling. She moved it up her leg, and he began breathing very heavily. Sighing audibly, she led it upward, over the swell of her hip, under the hem of her nightie. It was shaking even more as she drew it back and forth across her warmly-pulsing tummy. Her nipples were rock-hard and extremely sensitive. They were so sensitive that it almost hurt when she rubbed his sweating palm over her titties, but the soaring feeling within her more than overcame the slight initial discomfort. His eyes were glazed over with his confusion and lust. She should have let herself go this way years before, and now that she was doing it, she'd make up for lost time.
"You see, Paul? There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm nice to touch."
"Boy. You sure are," he said.
"Ever touch a girl like this before?" she purred, sliding his willing hand down inside the front of her panties to the edge of her hair. He shook his head, and she said, "Would you like to take down my panties and touch more of me?"
The boy swallowed hard and nodded, and Bea got up on her knees on the car seat and placed her hands on her hips, her body at his disposal. She had to tell him again to take down her panties. He started them down very carefully, without touching her, but just the scrape of the nylon over her hips was enough to increase her already high excitement. When he had her panties down around her knees he ventured to touch her thigh. His touch was infinitely sweet, but it wasn't enough, and Bea covered his hand with hers and pressed it harder there. She uttered a little growl in the back of her throat and lifted his hand to her mouth. She kissed it feverishly and nipped his fingers with her teeth, then stuck it up between her legs and rubbed it hard against the sodden, swollen flesh there.
She groaned loudly at the touch and panted, "Paulie, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I just want to feel good. I just want to make you feel good. Oh, God!"
He was terrified and she was only making things worse. Keep it up like this and he'd jump out of the car and run, knowing she was a mad person, and leaving her even more frustrated than she'd been for so long. She couldn't allow that.
She threw herself at him, holding him down with her weight and clutching at his jacket collar as she mashed her mouth to his. Their teeth clicked together and her breath smelled like booze, but he responded voraciously to the kiss. He wasn't afraid to touch her now. His eager young hands were all over her, thrilling her to the core, while she sucked heavily on his tongue and ran her fingers through his hair. This was her kind of sex, the kind she'd missed out on for so long, and now she never wanted to give it up.
"I've gotta see you!" she said, and began tearing at his pants. "I've got to see your prick!"
"Yeah," he panted, working with her, raising up on the seat and hauling down his pants until his fine young prick sprang up long and pale and beautiful in the dim light.
Bea held its throbbing strength in her hand and drank in its erotic beauty with her eyes as she lowered her head, mouth open, breathing as heavily as he was. It was uncircumcised, just like Jimmy's prick, but unlike Jimmy's this one didn't start shooting when she slid down its foreskin. He moaned and squirmed when she did it and this made her smile, for he'd be moaning and squirming far more in another few minutes.
It was salty and smelly and delicious, and Bea savored its taste and texture both by swirling her tongue all about the very warm head of it before closing her lips to begin her cocksucking. Its shaft was hard as a bone in her hand, quite unlike the thick muscle of a shaft that her husband had. She could get almost the whole thing into her mouth, but it wasn't enough. She had to have it all, and she got it by forcing the soft knob of it down her throat until her nose was nestled snugly in his musky, curly hair. He'd been breathing faster and faster up till then, but now he began thrashing and churning and moaning, making Bea fearful that he'd try and stop her. She lifted her head and said as reassuringly as she could, "Relax, darling. I'm not hurting you, am I? Don't you want me to give you a nice little blow-job?"
"Yes," he gasped, thrusting his prick up at her. "I never felt anything... like that." She smiled and placed her pursed lips on its wetted end. She wanted to suck him off slowly, lovingly, and at the same time use one hand to bring her burning cunt to orgasm. But once that sweet knob was all the way in her mouth, she didn't have a free hand to use. Both her hands were fully occupied in clutching at his tender young body, nearly hairless and without an ounce of flab, and the only assuagement for her itching cunt came from grinding her thighs together. She sucked him harder, bobbing her head more deeply, until his lovely little prick was fucking her open throat. Now he could thrash about as much as he wished for nothing could break her hold on him. She jerked his pants down further to get at his balls and found them very warm and hard, again totally unlike the big soft eggs of her husband.
"Mmmmmm," she murmured, fucking him with her mouth.
"Jeesus Peesus!" he muttered in a strangled voice. "I'm gonna cream! I can't hold it back!"
"Mm-hmm!" she said, using hands as well as mouth on his genitalia now, rolling his balls, working his shaft, sucking his cock with an insanely compelling thirst.
"Urrrrrgggh!" he groaned, and the first strong spurt of his delicious stuff filled her mouth.
Bea's taste buds exploded, sending a million hot arrows down into her cunt. Still sucking, she thrashed herself off the car seat to the floor. She buried one hand between her legs, sticking a finger up inside her bursting cunt, and kept on sucking and swallowing the slick, starchy liquid that spurted into her mouth with slowly-diminishing force until there was nothing left to be had and he was wilted and panting against the door.
She kissed his prick and fondled it as it slowly went limp and as she slowly regained a semblance of her normal breathing. She was bright and cheerful when she rose.
"Did you like that, Paulie?" she asked.
"Whew! I'll say."
"Did anyone ever suck you off before?"
"Never."
"I'm glad. I'm glad I was the first. You have a lovely prick. I love to suck it. And your cum-cum tastes wonderful. How soon do you have to be home, Paulie?"
"I don't know. Any time," he said.
"Good. We can have some more fun. Would you like that?"
"Boy, I'll say."
She started to kiss him but he turned his head, and she understood. Instead she raised her nightie, baring her titties for him, and all it took was a beckoning smile to get him to kiss her there. He was sucking too hard and it hurt just a little, just as she'd sucked too hard on his prick, but his eager mouth felt awfully good and it was just the right way to get him ready again before his conscience overcame him and he became afraid again. She stroked his head and kissed it, and then a hot shiver went through her as she vividly recalled what she'd been doing a few hours before.
"Do you have to pee, Paulie?" she asked.
"Hmm?"
"D'you have to take a leak? Answer me, dear."
His mouth came off her nipple with a smacking sound and he said, "I don't know if I do or not."
"I'll bet you do. My hu... my boy friend always has to after he cums. Let's get out and try. I'll help you."
He clambered out, clutching at his pants and holding them up around his thighs. Bea followed, pushing him on, and kicking off her panties as she went. The cool night air raised gooseflesh on her nearly nude body, but it did nothing to diminish the fire in her loins.
With an arm about his waist, pressing her soft belly against his hard hip, she took his prick from his hand and directed it at the ground. "Now pee for me, Paulie."
"Jeez, I don't think I can now."
"Try," she said, nuzzling against his shoulder, softly milking his rubbery little organ. "Relax, darling, and try," she went on, sliding her other hand down over his firm little ass.
It made him jump and wriggle, and she liked that. She'd read about the erogenous zone of the male behind but she'd rarely touched Jim there, and now she squeezed this firm little ass and delved her finger in its groove, experimenting, learning, enjoying. He exhaled and began urinating, and a similar warm gushing feeling flooded her loins. She had the urge to throw her arms about him and kiss him and feel his urine squirting against her naked flesh. She ran her hand down his buttocks and his prick started jerking and stiffening -- just as Jimmy's had -- and she continued with her hand until she had her finger against his asshole and he was panting again.
"Hold still," she said. "Don't you like that?"
"I don't know. It's weird," he said.
She wormed the tip of her finger in and moved it around the rim, triggering his prick into an even greater state of rigidity. He stood there trembling, holding his pants up, not knowing what to do. She went deeper.
"I think you do like it," she said. "Your prick is getting nice and hard again. It's almost hard enough to screw me. Would you like to do that, Paulie?"
"Oh, Jesus," he muttered, and let his pants fall so he could grab at her. "Jeesus Peesus, would I ever!"
"Ever do it to a girl before?" she asked, worming her finger deeper, running it around the rim of his asshole and getting him as hot as she was.
"Never. You'd have to... show me?" he asked.
"Oh, I know how," she said, prolonging his sweet agony and hers. "And I just love to do it. You could cum right up inside me, so warm and nice, and you wouldn't have to worry about a single thing, baby. You want to do it now?"
"Yes!"
"Let's get in the back seat. Come on," she said.
She led him there by his prick. It was as hard as ever by then. She had him sit down on the seat and she sat facing him astraddle his lap, with his prick up between them. She smiled down at it, rubbing it against her moist fur, feeling his balls against her clitoris. Raising up those few inches, it seemed as if she might soar right up through the roof of the car, and then she plunged down, straight down, ramming his lovely, clean little prick all the way up inside her ravenously-craving cunt.
"Uhhhhhhh." She started coming right away, she couldn't help it. "Ohhhhhhh." She moaned and squirmed on him, caring not at all if she frightened him now, reaching down and digging her fingers into the flesh of his thighs, rocking from side to side and back and forth as she squeezed the wonderfully-hard length of his youthful cock in her with all her might. And still she came! It was heaven, it was ecstasy, and to make it even better she grabbed his hands and clamped them on her bouncing, bursting tits.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she cried, her hips moving like lightning, buffeting his loins with her flying buttocks, getting all the friction she could out of his bone-hard cock. She could smell their fucking and hear it too as her overflowing cunt squelched on the boy's straining cock, piercing into her contorting body over and over without a pause. His face was all twisted up as if he might cry or cum at any moment, and without caring for his squeamishness, she grabbed him by the hair and kissed him on the mouth, Frenching him deeply and sucking on his tongue just as she'd sucked on his cock.
He twisted away, falling to one side, but still she retained possession of his strong young cock, huffing and grunting as she slammed herself at him time and again, knowing for certain that her orgasm somehow had to come to an end, but not at all ready for it yet.
"Wait!" he called in a strangled voice. "I'm gonna...."
"Cum!" she cried. "Yeah, baby, cum in me! Do it big, honey! Just like I am. Oh. Ohhhhhhh!"
"Uff! Uff! Uff!" He grunted loudly as now, at last, he began fucking her on his own. It came at just the right moment, for by then Bea's orgasmic passions had robbed her body of the capability to move. Lolling against him, she felt herself being bumped upward by his shooting prick, and the delights became so intolerably good that she began to softly sob.
They lay there in a sweaty tangle for several minutes before he stirred. He was trying to get up, to get out from under her, but still she couldn't move. She sniffed back her tears and tried weakly to kiss him, but again he turned away. She was good enough to fuck but not good enough to kiss, and this knowledge restored her reeling senses to her.
She shivered from head to toe as she rose up, feeling his prick slide out of her buttery-soft hole, and she collapsed beside him on the seat, spent and cold and ashamed. He made no move toward her. He quickly pulled up his pants and fastened them, as if she was more ashamed than he.
"I hope it was good for you," she said, and placed her hand gently on his knee.
"Oh, sure," he said, and moved away.
"Paulie, you mustn't think all women are like me. I had too much to drink tonight and, well, I was very lonely. You're a wonderful boy, a nice boy, and I don't want you to... Oh, Paulie, can't you even look at me?"
"Sure," he said, sullen and furtive, and turned to look accusingly at her.
"Paul, boys don't have to save their virginity till they're married. You didn't do anything wrong. It was all my fault, you know that, and after all, it did feel good, didn't it?"
"Sure. It was groovy. It's just that... well... I gotta be gettin' home."
"Of course," she said. "It's terribly late. Straighten up and get in front if you want. I'll put on my coat, and when we get to Mountain Grove we'll look entirely respectable and no one will ever know about this, Paul. No one."
He remained silent on the rest of the drive, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. She was a nut, a nymphomaniac who did this all the time, and nothing she could do or say would convince him otherwise. He'd get over it though. In years to come he'd look back on this night as a terribly-thrilling experience, but just then he was filled with shame at himself for being so weak and at her for having taken such advantage of him, a mere child.
He directed her through town mostly by pointing, and had her stop the car at a corner. It made her feel doubly bad that he didn't even want her to know where he lived, but she said nothing. Her pussy was leaking and all she wanted to do was get home and douche and never to leave the house again. He opened the door and turned to her. His eyes were big and sorrowful and she didn't want to look him in the face.
"I go over to see my sister every week," he said. "Could I meet you again like this?"
A smile curled her lips and the good feelings returned in a flood. "Maybe," she said. "Kiss me good night."
He came eagerly and in ten seconds she showed him all she'd ever learned about the French kiss. She drove off knowing that he had a boner again, but she didn't look in the rear-view mirror for a last sight of him. After all, there were lots of other boys with eager cocks around.
CHAPTER NINE
It wasn't until the next day that Bea was struck by the enormity of what she'd done. She could go to jail for having seduced the boy! All it would have taken was a patrol car chancing by the night before and her whole life would be over. She'd be disgraced, would have a record as a sex offender, and most probably lose Jimmy as well as Jim. It made her almost ill to think back on how she'd so grossly seduced the boy, and she prayed that the experience would cause him no lasting harm. Most of all she was disgusted with herself because of her unnatural craving for her son, a craving so wicked and perverse that in her drunken stupor she had thought he felt the same toward her.
She knew very well she needed psychiatric help, but how did one go about getting such help in a town like Kernville? She knew of no psychiatrists in the town, and asking the family doctor for direction was out of the question. Hers was a problem she'd have to handle by herself, and she felt that recognizing the problem was half the battle. The other half of the battle to retain her sanity was in keeping her perverse impulses under control, and to this end she decided to stop drinking entirely. She would get books on psychiatry so that she could get to the root of her problem, and until she reached this understanding she would keep herself under very strict mental discipline. At the same time she'd be a better mother to Jimmy, giving him guidance and understanding and a love that was strictly maternal. She might never make up for her scandalous performance in his room, but she could try.
She had a hangover and she was almost glad of it, for it was tangible proof of the sins she'd left behind her. She was wise enough to know that her craving for young boys in general and for Jimmy in particular was not a one-time thing. The urge could return again and again, and she'd have to have all her wits about her at all times to fight it down. She felt she could do it. After all, she'd quit smoking a few years before, which was something that Jim had been unable to do.
Of course, this was a greater challenge than giving up tobacco, and the stakes were correspondingly higher. The stakes were so high that Bea simply had to control the beast within, and when one simply has to do something, one does it. She looked perfectly normal in the mirror, but that beast was in her and she knew it. She wanted it to rear its ugly head, just so she could stifle it.
With Jimmy at school, she went to his room and handled the objects that were most intimately associated with him. His pajamas, his shorts, his shirts, she fondled them and held them to her face while she deliberately thought about having sex with him. Sure enough, she felt herself getting sexually excited, and sure enough, she was able to keep it under strict control. That pleased her, and experimenting farther, she got out the girlie magazine she'd taken from Jimmy. She stripped naked in his room, laid down on his bed and looked through the magazine. She tried to project Jimmy's young male mind into hers as she gazed at the lewdly-posed girls and she thought about him playing with his prick right there where she was lying. She fingered herself and soon she was very much aroused. Still experimenting, she thought about waylaying Jimmy when he got home from school. She thought too about getting in her car and searching out little Paulie.
When she'd wallowed in these perverse thoughts long enough, she gathered herself together and cast off the high state of excitement she had provoked. It took an effort, but she did it, and the doing of it gave her great confidence in herself and justified her not going to a psychiatrist for professional help. She wanted to reward herself with a drink, but her confidence in herself wasn't that great. Instead she had one of Jim's cigarettes, her first in three years. It made her dizzy, but it helped her to relax. She thought that maybe she'd start smoking regularly again, for a woman who had given up alcohol and sex had to have something.
Jimmy seemed a little wary of her on his return from school, and this was to be expected. She combated it by ignoring it and treating him just as normally as she could, as if nothing had happened, not even his masturbation. It seemed to work, for by his bed-time, Jimmy was his old self again. Bea felt both relieved and proud of herself, and that night in bed it was she who masturbated. After all, she was a mature woman with a fully-developed sex drive that she'd largely ignored up until then, but that obviously needed an outlet. She'd find this outlet in masturbation, and if necessary she'd do it six times a day to keep the beast inside her under control. Scissoring her legs between the sheets while she delved her fingers in her cunt, she let her imagination run rampant until she had a good, solid orgasm, and she went to sleep with a smile on her face, her crisis past.
Friday morning Bea awoke feeling very good. She mixed up a bowl of pancake batter and went to wake Jimmy. He had kicked down the covers while he slept, and from his pajamas protruded his prick, stiff and hard with an early morning erection. It was an entirely innocent erection, but nevertheless the sight of it brought hot desire rushing through Bea and she was helpless to look away from it. She couldn't breathe as her feet carried her closer to her sleeping son, heart pounding, loins all loose and warm. She wanted to leap on him and feel it go in her, wanted to fall on her knees and shower it with kisses, and it took every effort of her will to pull the covers up and get that terribly-beautiful penis out of sight. Then she roughly shook him awake and quickly left his room.
As usual Jimmy ate his breakfast voraciously, but although Bea had been quite hungry when she woke up, she couldn't eat a bite now. She was sitting too close to him at the table, thinking too much about that beautiful thing he had in his pants, and seeking with all her might to maintain control of herself. She was so hot she couldn't trust herself to kiss him good-bye, and the moment he was out of the house she hurried to her bedroom to masturbate.
It felt wonderful to use her fingers in her aching cunt and to know that soon she'd banish the awful incestuous desires in her tormented body, but she found herself unable to have an orgasm. She thrashed on her bed for half an hour, reliving every moment of the time she'd spent with Paulie, then imagining herself with Jimmy, and all she accomplished was to arouse herself still further. In desperation she went to Jimmy's room and there she used the handle of his hairbrush in her flaming cunt while holding a pair of his shorts to her face. Still total relief eluded her, and angrily she gave it up and headed for a cold shower.
That helped, but not for long. She hadn't even dried off completely before those familiar warm feelings were weakening her legs and her resolutions. She would not give in to them. She attacked her housework furiously, smoking cigarettes one after another, and the glow between her legs grew and grew. She tried again to reach an orgasm by herself, and again she failed. It was horribly frustrating, doubly so because in her years of marriage to Jim, orgasming had not been all that important to her. Now it was all that mattered, and she knew if she felt like that when Jimmy got home from school, she wouldn't be able to keep herself from seducing him. Exhausted, frustrated, furious with herself, she went to the bar and made herself a Scotch and soda.
It felt weird drinking a highball at ten in the morning. If her neighbors knew what she was doing they'd gossip about it for a week. And if they knew what her thoughts were -- well, she could only smile in speculation about that. The drink helped her calm down, but her pussy still itched. It would probably always itch until she took Jimmy into her bed. But no, that wasn't necessarily true, for she'd already proved there was another way to find relief. There were all sorts of boys around that were very much like Jimmy. Seducing them was literally child's play for a woman like her, and if she caused them some mental problems by seducing them, that was far better than the damage she'd do to Jimmy by seducing him.
Then again, what problems could she cause a boy by seducing him? After all, they were all going to lose their virginities some day, and what was wrong with surrendering their chastity to a good-looking, experienced woman like herself? It was better than fumbling around in the back seat of a car and maybe getting a girl in trouble. Musing about it all, caressing her very wet pussy, Bea sipped her drink away before making up her mind to act.
First she made herself another drink and then she went to her bedroom to dress. She wanted to wear the little red nightie, but that was entirely too dangerous, even at night, and this seduction would be carried out in broad daylight. But there was a cunning little black panty-bra set that would do nicely. It was another present from Jim from several years before, and she'd rarely worn the alluring little garments. They fit her snugly. Her breasts bulged over the lacy bra and the panties clung to her tightly and presented a nice bulge at her pube. She used a liberal amount of perfume on the warmest parts of her body, and at that moment those parts were quite warm indeed.
From her closet she took a little white dress and put it on. Its hemline was high and its neckline low, and through the thin material one could clearly see her black lingerie. She made a third drink and sipped it while she was applying a generous amount of make-up to her lovely, alluring face and brushing out her long dark hair. She put on a pair of black high-heels and, standing before the mirror, she looked perfectly capable of seducing any man in the world. Of course, she didn't want a man, she wanted a fresh, untried boy, and the thought of denying herself this need was so absurd that it was laughable.
She drove in the direction of Mountain Grove. She passed several boys on the Kernville streets she could have picked up, but that was far too dangerous. Her state of high excitement seemed to add to her cunning, and she wasn't about to take any unnecessary chances in her search for satiation. Her excitement never left her as she drove. Several times she was temporarily distracted by some roadside sight,, and this would allow her excitement to wane. At these times she thought about turning around and heading for home, but then her excitement would leap again with dizzying swiftness and she'd drive even faster toward her next unknown lover. She had little hope of finding Paulie again. She didn't really want him. She wanted a new boy, one who'd never seen her before, one in which she could observe his stunned excitement grow as she expertly seduced him. The fact that she'd be doing it in broad daylight made it all the better.
The gods of the wicked were smiling on Bea; she arrived in Mountain Grove shortly after noon, when there were quite a few kids away from school on the lunch hour. She saw many boys that set her hunger gnawing at her bowels, but they were all in twos and threes and she had no way of cutting one of them away from his buddies. They were so near and yet so far, a maddening situation. She cruised the streets around the high school, fingers working on the steering wheel, pussy burning, almost ready to throw open her door to the next group of fuzz-cheeked lads she saw, and then she saw the one she'd come for.
He was dressed as Jimmy always wanted to dress, in faded bell-bottom dungarees held up around his hips with a broad belt, and a tie-dyed tank top like the undershirts her father used to wear. His brown hair was too long and he was holding a cigarette in his left hand. His right was being used to thumb a ride; he was offering himself up on a platter to her.
"Hey, thanks, lady," he said when he got in. "How far you goin'?"
She gave him an appraising look and smiled. She said, "No place in particular. Where are you going?"
"Across town. Anywhere away from school. I'm cuttin' school today," he said, and took a drag on his cigarette. He was a little wise guy, but she'd show him a thing or two he'd never known before.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Jack. Jack Ferguson." He was looking her over, and it felt good.
"Mine's Betty Brown." She flashed him a smile and scratched an imaginary itch high on her right leg. Her disarranged skirt showed him a lot of thigh. "How old are you, Jack?"
"Old enough," he said, and took another deep drag.
She pulled her skirt up higher and adjusted the elastic leg-hole of her black panties and he began to cough and choke on the smoke. She laughed and said, "You're not even old enough for cigarettes, let alone for what I had in mind."
"Oh, yeah?" he said, already too distracted by her to keep up with his facade of being Mr. Cool. "I'm old enough for whatever you got in mind, lady."
"I seriously doubt that, but there's no harm in asking: Do you know where the local necker's spot is?"
"Well, yeah. They go... we go up back of Eisenhower Park. There's lots of places to park off the road there where the cops can't see you and... Why?"
"I have my reasons. Do you have time to show me where it is?"
"I guess so. Sure," he said.
He directed her through the streets of Mountain Grove. He was getting more and more nervous, and that was fine. He couldn't take his eyes off her and that was no wonder for she presented a very sexy picture driving along with her skirt up to her hip, very lovely, and seemingly very cool. She was enjoying her excitement now rather than being frustrated with it, for she had her prey in hand.
Bea turned the car into one of the secluded groves of trees and parked it. She looked around and smiled, for beside the car a used rubber lay in the dirt and tangled in a nearby bush was a soiled pair of girl's panties.
"It looks like you knew what you were talking about after all, Jack."
"I told you I did," he said.
Bea worked the lever that slid the seat back. She lit a cigarette and leaned back against the door. Inhaling deeply, she blew a cloud of smoke at him, and as he sat blinking through it, she put her right foot up on the seat between them, giving him a clear, unobstructed view of her bulging black crotch. She acted oblivious to his open-mouthed staring.
"Yes, this place looks familiar. I used to park in places like this when I was your age -- fourteen or fifteen. I had a lot of fun in places like this. I learned a lot."
"Yeah?" he said, his face flushed, his hand fidgeting on the back of the seat.
"I sure did, Jackie. I lost my cherry in a place just like this," she said, and he fidgeted all over for a few seconds. "Are you still a virgin?"
The question thoroughly shocked him, but he tried to recover some of his bluster as he said, "Me, a virgin? Heck, no. I've f-f- done it with lots of chicks."
"Fibber," she said, ardently hoping that he was indeed fibbing. "I'll bet you don't even know how to French kiss."
As he came to her, he looked all around, as if expecting a band of Indians to burst out of the trees. His eyes were very wide, and now he looked extremely young. Bea didn't move her body to meet him, but she did grasp his head in her hands as he approached. She brought their mouths together as his strong young body came between her outspread legs. Both their mouths were open, and her tongue was dipping and probing deeply while his protruded rigidly into her mouth. She mashed them fiercely together, bumping her cunt up at him as she did. Her hands went to his sides and her fingers kneaded into his flesh as she pulled him closer against her tits, and still the kiss went on. He was shaking all over and breaking out in a nervous sweat, and still she gave it her all, did her best to blow his mind with a single kiss. Only when she released him and he drew a great, shuddering breath did she realize he hadn't been breathing through the long kiss.
"Yes, you're quite the lover," she said, and laughing softly she drew him into another kiss before he could gather his wits.
They necked with increasing passion, and Bea was the aggressor all the way. She was stronger than the boy and she could manipulate him this way and that at will. She teased him unmercifully, sticking her tongue in his ear, sliding her hand over the nice, hard bulge in his pants, raking his back with her fingernails. It was a tremendous thrill to feel and see him getting so excited, and she had no doubts whatsoever that he was more excited than he'd ever dreamed imaginable. For all his previous swagger, it was obvious that he was almost totally inexperienced, and she knew she could do whatever she wanted with him.
"Mmm, you're such a wonderful lover," she purred at his ear. "You really know how to get a girl hot. And I just adore the way you French kiss, Jackie. I can't help thinking about your Frenching me right down here."
She'd been teasing him with her body too, guiding his trembling hands to her passion-swollen tits briefly and then pulling them away. Now she took his hand in hers and slid it down over her body, let it brush against her big, hot box, then steered it down her thigh. He watched in utter fascination as she brought it up again and pressed it firmly against her nylon-covered cunt. She moaned and writhed as if she was orgasming.
"Yes, Jackie. Right there. I'm going to let you take off my panties and kiss me right there. And oh, won't that be good?"
He nodded, panting, and she drew him into another kiss. With their mouths fused, she pulled up his shirt and dug her fingers into his bare flesh. She grabbed him by the hair and jerked him back against the car seat and there she tugged his shirt over his head, baring his hairless chest with its two tiny nipples. She bent and encircled one with her lips, sucking hard and whipping it with her tongue. His teeth were chattering and then she made him moan by nipping the little bud with her teeth. Her arm went about his neck and she kissed him strongly, and as she did her other hand went down inside the waistband of his pants and found his prick. It was bone-hard and slender, wonderful to the touch, and Bea exaggerated the passion that it aroused in her. Still kissing him, she squirmed and writhed strongly against him and hugged him about the neck even harder, and with her hand she squeezed his prick hard and worked it up and down. He struggled, pushing back at her, trying to back away, and suddenly he groaned and started shooting, just as she'd known he would.
"Jack!" she said, feigning great shock. "Don't cum yet. Hold it back!"
"Nnng! Can't! I can't!" he said.
She drew her cum-smeared hand up over his chest, and quickly got her thigh between the legs of the groaning, orgasming boy. There she had her cunt very close to the erupting organ in his pants and she could feel each of his ejaculations going off like fireworks inside her. It was a greater thrill than all the futile masturbating she'd done that day.
When she backed off he was limp and exhausted, his face smeared with lipstick, his pants filled with cum. "Some kind of a lover you are. You didn't even wait for me," she said, and he murmured a weak apology. "I'll let you make up for it, Jackie. Come on. Let's get your clothes off."
He grabbed at his belt buckle and said, "No, wait! I can't. I gotta... I gotta get home."
She slapped his hands away and began working at his belt, and when he tried again to protest she covered his mouth with her cum-stained hand. He turned his head and she laughed and jerked it back to face her, then kissed him squarely on the mouth. He made no further verbal protests as she tugged down his pants and shorts and ran her hand over his loins. Though it had been circumcised, it was a nice little prick. It fit her hand perfectly in its soft state and it came erect in throbbing pulses as she squeezed and stroked it. And as it came erect his reluctance left him and he again tried to feel of her tits.
"What a stud you are!" she said. "You just can't get enough. Here, darling, I'll give you what you want."
He watched raptly as she reached in her dress and slipped her bra strap down along with the shoulder strap of her dress. She wriggled her arm out of the straps, and as she did, she was slowly baring her left breast. Naturally, its nipple was already hard as a rock, but she milked and shaped it to a finer point with her hands as she spoke to him.
"Is that what you want, baby? You want to suck mama's big old tittie? Come on, darling boy. Do it. Now. French it real good for me."
His lips stuck out and his mouth yawned wide as he came forward, and in seconds it became obvious that he'd already learned a great deal about the art of using his tongue as an erotic tool. She gave him free rein now, permitting him to use both his hands and his mouth on her tittie as, smiling, she reclined on the seat, pulling him along with her.
"Oh, lover," she said, ruffling his hair. "You make me feel so good. It feels good for you, too, doesn't it? You've always wanted to suck on mommie's beautiful big titties. Suck, Jackie. Eat mommie's sweet tittie and feel good all over. Darling darling boy, I'm just going to have to let you go down on me. There's just no way I can stop you now."
His prick felt so good against her leg, but she had to have more of him than that now. She pushed him away from her kiss-wetted breast and he sat up on the seat, his eyes as passion-glazed as ever. Arching her lovely body, she rucked up her skirt and pushed down at her tight black panties.
"Help me off with them, darling," she said. "I'm so hot."
He pulled at them gingerly and she worked her hips around, partially to help him strip her, partially to inflame his young senses even more by the sight of her squirming, nubile hips and her bare and jiggling breast. He was completely absorbed by what he saw, and his fascination grew as he exposed her thick black hair. He worked faster then, pulling the sodden crotchband away from the swollen, dew-kissed lips it had been protecting and backing off to get a clearer view of those lips, richly red and slightly parted. Bea scissored her legs to get the panties off, then got her right leg between him and the seat, further opening her cunt for him.
"Does that look good to you, Jackie?"
"Yeah, but...."
"Are you going to eat it real good for mama?"
"I don't know. I...." he said.
"Come, darling. You promised," she said, holding out her hand to him, dying to feel his sweet little tongue in her.
He swayed forward and she caught his shoulder. She guided him down, down, her body so seething with excitement that she could scarcely control her voice when she spoke.
"Just tickle mama's clit with your tongue, Jackie. I know you'll like it, and you know I will too. Come, lover. Come be good to me, and then I'll be special good to you. Come, darling. Come, sweetheart. Come to mama."
Her hand on the nape of his neck helped, but it was her soothing, seducing words that talked him down. His hands were tense and trembling as they held her warm thighs and he extended his tongue before he reached her cunt. He looked up at her, both fearful and questioning, and she took a firmer hold on him and pulled him the rest of the way down.
A lighted cigarette stabbing against her clit couldn't have had more of an effect on her. She started coming right away, but good as it was, it wasn't nearly enough. Her legs went up and she parted them wider, opening much more of her cunt in invitation to him. He tried to push away from it but she wouldn't let him. Instead, she took a firmer grip on his hair and closed her thighs against his head, mashing his mouth harder still against her gushing pussy. She was coming hard by then. The big orgasm was shaking through every part of her body, and his weak struggles to escape from his wet and musky prison were adding to her pleasures.
"Ohhhhh, eat it, baby. Eat cunt, you little brat, and like it, love it. Suck it, dig your tongue in and eat it, or so help me, I'll pee right in your face. Ahhh. Oh, yesssss, that's it. Mmmm. You do like it, don't you? You really do like eating pussy now that you're finally doing it."
He nodded his head, and when Bea relaxed her hold on him and spread her legs as far as the cramped quarters would permit, he continued to lap her cunt with ever-increasing enthusiasm. She lay back and wallowed in the luxury of it, smiling and rubbing his head, grinding her hips under his wetly-lapping mouth and murmuring hotly to him.
"Pretty baby. Oh, he just loves his mama's pussy. Mmmm. Can't get enough of it. Never will. All his life he'll want to go down on girls before he fucks them, and all his life he'll never taste a sweeter pussy than this one. There! Jackie darling, right there! Lick it, honey! Suck it hard and I'll come, I'll really come for you! Oh! Oh, my God, I love it! Yes! YES! YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!"
She was thrashing insanely and she couldn't stop herself, not even when he backed off and wiped his grinning face with the back of his hand. Smiling so lewdly, he suddenly looked much older than he was, and Bea knew she had to stop this dizzy orgasm and get things back on the right keel with him. She was just starting to fight down the enormous waves of pleasure crashing over her when he stuck his hand between her legs and poked his fingers in her cunt, starting yet another wracking, groaning flight into ecstasy.
He giggled and took his fingers out. He got up on his knees, his prick standing up at a sharp angle, ready to throw himself on her. It brought her to her senses and she grabbed the steering wheel and dragged herself up, completely disheveled, still orgasming, still burning for more -- but on her terms, not his.
Bea slammed him back against the seat and threw herself across his lap, holding his body down with her weight, holding his prick against his belly with her wet cunt. His breath stunk of pussy, but she kissed him anyway, strongly, dominantly. He again looked properly stunned when she ended the kiss.
"You liked eating pussy, didn't you? Well, you'll love fucking, and don't try to tell me you've ever done it before."
A flip of her fingers and a twitch of her hips and his long lean prick was inside her. It made her laugh to see the startled look on his face. She undulated her body this way and that, and although she'd never done it before, she was now able to exercise a great control over her vaginal muscles, closing her hot pussy tightly on him and milking the hard little virginal organ that seemed to fill her up so completely. He got that snotty grin on his face again and started to push up at her.
"Just hold still, baby, and mama will show you how it's done."
"Don't call me baby, will you? And you're not my... we're not related. Let's just fuck."
She laughed derisively at him. Her discarded panties were beside them on the seat, and she picked them up and slid them up his arm, saying as she did, "Hush, baby, or mama will have to gag you with her panties. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she purred, smoothing the pussy-tainted garment over his downy cheek, working her educated cunt on his stick-like little-boy penis. "Just close your eyes and relax. You don't have to do a thing, baby."
She covered his face with perfumed black nylon so that only his eyes showed. She grinned at him and worked her hips faster, savoring the fear and the passion reflected in his eyes. She could feel her orgasm coming, and she knew it would be in perfect synchronization with his, for there was nothing about young boys she didn't know now.
"Cum, baby," she panted, pressing the aphrodisiac-scented crotch of her panties against his mouth and nose. "Cum for mama. Yes! Yes, give it all to me!"
"Urrrrggggh!" He groaned through the panties. "Aaaaarrrrggggh!" His fingers dug into her ass and his body strained so hard he lifted them both off the seat. "Nnnngggg!"
"Yes!" she cried. "Cum! Cum harder! This is the biggest cum of your life, Jackie! Cum like you'll never cum again! Harder! Oh, HARDER! OH! OH! OHHHHHHH...."
Bea was utterly spent when she climbed off him, but she couldn't show it, she could show no signs of weakness before him or any other boy. She brushed back her hair and efficiently began rearranging her clothing while he lay back, panting, limp as a rag, his juice-coated cock relaxed over his hairless thigh, her panties draped over his shoulder.
"Did you like that, Jackie?" she asked.
"Wow. Oh, wow."
"Do you want some more next week?"
"Yeah. Any time," he said.
"All right. Meet me at the same place, on the same street corner, at the same time next Friday. We'll have some more fun together. I'll teach you more."
"I'll be there, Betty," he said.
"And will you think of me till then?" she asked, stroking his cheek with her hand, pursing her rich red lips close to his slack face.
"I sure will."
She laughed. "I doubt it. I know how forgetful boys are. To make sure you will remember me, I want you to wear my panties."
His eyes came to life, growing wide. "What?"
"You heard me. You're not deaf. Wear my panties now and be wearing them next Friday or you'll miss out on a lot, baby."
"Jeez, I couldn't do that," he said.
"Sure you could. And if you do, this is only one of the things you'll get as your reward."
She backed off, bent down, and sucked his prick in her mouth, smeared as it was with their mixed juices. She only did it briefly, just to give him a sample of what he thought was to come, and when she arose, smiling, he was willing to don her panties.
Bea drove down the hill and dropped him off near where he wanted to go, then turned the car for Kernville. Halfway there, along a deserted stretch of road, she used the rear-view mirror to repair the ravages of the afternoon as best she could. At last she felt satisfied, but she knew it wouldn't last.
Jimmy would inadvertently get her excited again in a day or a week and she'd be off on another hunt like today's. Psychiatry couldn't help her because she didn't want help with her problem. In fact, how could anything so terrifically exciting even be thought of as a problem? She'd be out again, corrupting other boys as she pleased them. She smiled at herself in the mirror as she thought of Jackie waiting for her most uncomfortably next week, and ever after that on a hunt of his own for a dominant older woman with dark hair and kinky ideas.
CHAPTER TEN
In the aftermath of her first seduction of a teenager, Bea had been wretched with contrition, and she'd vowed never to do such a thing again. But having done it, having yielded fully to temptation and seduced yet another horny teenage boy, she felt very little shame or regret. Her conscience troubled her only a little and she was able to simply push her perversion out of her thoughts. Jimmy noticed nothing at all unusual about her when he came home from school that Friday evening, and she felt certain that her secret sex life would not be suspected by Jim when he returned.
The only people who would ever know about her hunger for nice clean teenage boy-cock were the males themselves, and by exercising a reasonable amount of caution those males would never have the opportunity to reveal her as a ravenous seductress. She told herself that her young lovers, past and future, would profit more than suffer from having sex with her and she felt that that was true. Lying in bed that Friday night after her second seduction, she thought back on it with a self-indulgent smile and looked forward to the time when she'd again be seized by her desire and be off on another sexual adventure.
When she awoke in the morning she decided to do a little more experimenting with her perversion, to cautiously find out what she could about how her secret desires could or could not be controlled. Dressed in nightie and house robe, she went to Jimmy's room. He looked angelic in his sleep, but she was almost sure he had an erection under the covers. She carefully sat down on the bed beside him and deliberately thought about having sex with him. The idea of it was exciting, as she knew it would be. She placed her hand very lightly on his hip, and although her excitement grew, she was able to control it with ease. She shook him awake. For a few moments he looked at her sleepily, and then a slow blush colored his cheeks and a wariness crept into his eyes.
"Time to get up, dear," she said, rising, externally very cool and calm. "I'll make you some bacon and eggs."
That was a triumph. She'd looked her nemesis squarely in the eye and walked away from it unscathed. Not only that, she'd derived considerable pleasure from it. She felt as if she'd danced very close to the edge of a cliff and had returned unharmed and exhilarated, and she knew she'd repeat that exciting dance again. She further knew that when she found herself dancing a little too close to the cliff's edge, it was time to look for another Paulie or Jackie.
How many boys would she eventually seduce? How many sweet young little-boy pricks would she take? She thought about keeping a secret diary of her conquests, one in which she could find excitement and pleasure when she was alone, but that was too dangerous a thing to do. Someone might find it. Her thrilling little affairs would have to remain locked in the diary of her mind, with Jimmy always there to unknowingly jog her memory.
Several times that day -- whenever she could, in fact -- she fanned the flame of her secret excitement by coming into close contact with her son. She kissed him warmly when he left the house, and again on his return. She 'accidentally' brushed against him in passing, and whenever he wasn't looking she devoured him with her eyes. If he noticed it, he gave no sign, and wondering about his thoughts was a further titillation for Bea. By the end of the day she felt she'd learned considerable about herself through her exciting experimentation. She'd sallied close to the cliff's edge many times and still did not need to go out in search of a safety valve.
Jimmy was going out to a party that evening, and on his departure Bea mixed herself a drink and sat down to look at TV. She was still experimenting. She had been at least partially aroused for most of the day. Now, with temptation gone from the house, she could have a few leisurely drinks and observe what effect the alcohol had on her. She knew it would add to her sexual arousal and she wanted to know just how much and just how fast. She drank slowly, counting her drinks, quite prepared for a midnight hunt if it became necessary.
The television shows were good that Saturday night and Bea became comfortably interested in watching the tube. From time to time she got up and made herself another drink, counting them carefully. By eleven o'clock she'd had six drinks, she felt pleasantly tipsy, and she was experiencing none of the overpowering lust that she'd halfway expected. She planned on going to bed before Jimmy returned from the party, for there was no sense in carrying her experiments too far. Bea changed into her nightgown and was headed for bed when she heard a car pull into the driveway. At first she thought it was her husband, Jim, but looking through the window she saw the car belonged to one of Jimmy's friends. He was coming in early, and for a few hideous seconds Bea felt drunk enough to be capable of raping him.
Good sense prevailed. She forced it to. She calmed herself to near stoicism and marched off to bed, there to feign sleep while Jimmy came m and went to bed. She would not, under any circumstances, do any further experimenting that night. If the temptation of her son's presence became too great, she'd slip out and pick up another boy, but that night she wouldn't even look at Jimmy.
The doorbell rang and her heart sank. The little idiot, he'd forgotten his key again. Unknowingly, he was putting her to the supreme test, and as she went toward the front door Bea was resolutely determined to pass that test. She put a look of stern impatience on her face and flung the door open wide.
It was Jimmy, but he was unconscious. He was sagged against the side of a larger boy, head lolling loosely, reeking of beer. She immediately went to help hold him up.
"Hey, I'm awful sorry about this, Mrs. Hollister," said the boy.
"Well, you certainly should be!" she snapped. "Getting him drunk and bringing him home like this. You should be ashamed!"
"That's what I'm tryin' to tell you," he said, helping to drag her inert son in. "I didn't have nothin' to do with Jim gettin' gassed. He was almost passed out when we got to the party and I tried to get him to quit but he was havin' this drinkin' contest and he wouldn't listen to me. He's okay, though. He tossed his cookies and he'll have a helluva... heckuva hangover in the morning, but he's okay."
"It was very good of you. Turn here. Help me to his room. Is he ever going to get it in the morning!"
"Aw, don't be too hard on him. We all gotta get gassed once in a while. Right, Mrs. Hollister?"
The rough-talking boy was being so helpful and he was so frank that she had to smile. "I suppose so, but his behavior won't go unpunished."
They flopped him down on his bed, and lying there in his stupor, starting to snore, he looked amazingly like his father. The boy jostled against her with his shoulder, startling Bea back to reality.
" 'Scuse me. I had a couple beers myself. Is there a John I could use?"
She pointed the way to Jimmy's and he entered it, while she looked down at her son again. Totally helpless, he was ripe for her. She could undress him, play with him, kiss his body at will, and he'd remember nothing of it in the morning. Wonderfully wicked thoughts were racing through her head when she was again startled by the dark-haired boy, this time by the sound of his urination. She looked up. He'd neglected to close the bathroom door and she could see him with his back to her, holding his penis in his hand, peeing loudly into the bowl. He rocked back on his heels as he peed. He was tipsy too. He'd be so very easy to seduce, but that was far too dangerous of course. She'd have to leave Jimmy in his drunken stupor and go out, that was all there was to it.
The boy turned and smiled at her over his shoulder and she quickly looked away, her face going scarlet. She went about the business of pulling off Jimmy's shoes and throwing a cover over him, using every ounce of her will to fight down the hot feelings that had risen in her. She could still see the boy's smile in her mind's eye, and she didn't know what it meant. When she straightened up from her work he was standing in the room looking at her, and she couldn't help but notice he hadn't zipped up his fly.
"Is he okay, Mrs. Hollister?"
"Yes. He'll be fine in the morning. Thank you. Thank you very much for helping him. I'll walk you to the door."
"I wouldn't have done it for just anybody. I like your kid. Know what I mean? We get along pretty good together. He tells me what's on his mind."
"That's good," she said, going past her bedroom. "Thank you again."
"Hey, don't mention it. That's what friends are for. He'd do the same for me. We're good buddies."
"What's your name?" she asked, nearing the front door now, nearing the safety of solitude.
"Phil Groton," he replied, opening the door a few inches but making no move to go through it. "Has Jimmy talked to you about me? He talked a lot about you tonight."
"He... he did?" She'd heard the name before but now, with this boy so close, and with her being very fearful of what Jimmy might have said to him, she couldn't think.
"He sure did," the boy grinned. "He said he thinks you got the hots for him."
"No!" she said, and staggered a few steps back against the wall. "It's not true!"
He came after her. He put his hands on her upper arms and said, "He thinks it is. He says you're always lookin' at him funny, ever since you caught him beatin' his meat with that girlie book I sold him."
"You sold it to him! Get out of here, you... Get out! You and your filthy ideas!"
"Hey, what's filthy about that?" he blandly asked, still holding to her very tightly as she struggled. "Man, if I had a mom as good lookin' as you, I'd be the one who had the hots for her."
"Let me go! Get out of here!" she said.
"Aw, shut up," he said, and his arms went around her and he was trying to kiss her.
He was amazingly strong for his size. He crushed her to him with her arms pinioned between them and sought for her mouth with his. He got his thigh between her legs, against her pussy, and the bulge in his pants reminded her that his fly was open. She didn't scream, for that wouldn't help in this situation. She went on struggling, twisting, trying to dodge the eager mouth that kept catching her on the cheeks and ear and throat.
"Get out!" she hissed. "I'll call the police! I'll report you!"
"No, you won't. You don't want nobody to find out what you've been doin' with Jimmy."
"I've done nothing!" she said.
"Oh, yeah? But you wanted to. He told me all about it. So, do it with me. Just give us a little kiss and I'll go."
He caught her then. He got a hold on her hair, close to her scalp, and turned her head so he was able to meet her lips with his. She glared at him while he kissed her and she thought about bringing up her knee against his testicles, but he was pressing too hard against her for that. His other hand went down her back and clutched at her thinly-covered buttock, making her press harder still against that bulge. He lanced at her with his tongue, but she kept her teeth tightly closed, just as her body was tightly closed against any response to the attack of this strong young man.
When he ended the kiss she almost went limp with relief, and he panted at her ear, "I don't care if you do turn me in. Man, that was worth it. One more. Please. Then I'll go."
Angrily, she worked one arm loose, got it around his neck, and gave him what he wanted. Her mouth was open wide now and her tongue was working beautifully, making this last kiss one he would never forget. She molded her body against his, and she could feel much of his strength ebbing away. He was no rapist. He was just like the other boys, more so in fact, for he was at least honest about his lust for older women, his lust for her. She got her other arm about his waist and ground her belly against his, dropped her hand to his firm little fanny and dug her fingers in as he was doing to her. Her legs opened and received thrilling pressure from his thigh, and she ran her hands up and down his sides as he tried to keep up with her flying tongue. She had to take his smooth face in her hands to separate them.
"There's your kiss. Now go," she said.
"Don't make me go. Not yet," he begged, and dropped to his knees.
He embraced her about the hips, trying now to kiss her cunt in the same way he'd kissed her mouth. She could feel his tongue pushing at her through the cloth of her nightie, but even more, she could feel his breath, hot and fast and extremely penetrating. She grasped his head and told him to stop it, stop it.
He could not, of course. He was as oversexed as she, this boy who sold dirty magazines to his friends, and it would take more than words to stop him. She rocked her head back and forth against the wall and let the good feelings grow for just a few more seconds. If things had been a little different, she might have picked up this boy on the street and had her most exciting sexual adventure yet, but here and now it was impossible. She hugged him to her loins, opened her legs for one last great thrill, and he got his tongue on her clit.
She moaned. "Oh, you sexy little bastard. How I wish...."
But there was no need to wish. She had him. Time or place didn't matter when there was an appetite like hers to be sated, and she slid a few inches down the wall, opening her legs obscenely, giving him license to lick and lap through the length of her seething sodden cunt. She was drunk, and drunkenness excuses all manner of unusual behavior. He was raping her, and she couldn't be blamed for that.
"Eat it, Phil," she said in a throaty growl, her fingers digging into his scalp. "Eat my beautiful big cunt and then put your beautiful little prick in it."
He backed off, pulling her down with his hands, and said, "It's not so little. Look."
It was sticking out of his pants, somewhat larger than the boy's pricks she'd already known, but absolutely beautiful. She sank to her knees facing him, her senses reeling in a marvelous way, and got her hand on it. Bone-hard, just as she knew it would be, and already oozing that clear and delicious fluid that she so adored.
"You wanna eat it?" he murmured, taking her face in his hands. "Wanna suck my prick a little?"
"Yes. Yes, I've got to," she said.
She was going for it even as he started standing up, and by the time he was on his feet she had it in her mouth, sucking on its hardness, joyful, complete as a woman again. She was holding tightly to his trousers with both hands, and when he loosened his belt she pulled them down and got her hands on his smooth young flesh, all the while sucking his prick and making crooning noises in her drunken delight. He had nice balls, too, and she kissed them warmly, breathing deeply of his strongly-boyish odor, gripping his buttocks now. But she couldn't leave that prick unattended for long. She sucked it in again and turned his chuckles into moans of bliss, - and pulling his buttocks far apart, she sought for his anus with her finger. He held her head more tightly.
"Goddamn, will you lookit that!"
It was not his voice. Bea looked up, and to her complete horror, saw one, two, three boys and a girl crowding through her door, gawking down at her.
She pushed hard at Phil, but his strength was back now and he was using it to hold her where she was. His prick was so deep in her mouth that she couldn't even bite it, and he was driving it deeper still by advancing on her, pushing her back against the wall. The others were clustering about her, setting down their quart bottles of beer and grabbing at her, giggling and chattering excitedly.
"Goddamn it, keep quiet!" Phil hissed at them. "We don't want to wake up her kid!"
"Man, I want some of that. I wanna fuck her."
"You will. She's got plenty for all. Man, I'm about to cum," Phil said, working his prick in and out of her mouth, fucking her there.
"You're going to choke her," said the giggling girl.
"Shit, Sharon, she loves it," Phil said. "Don't you love it, Miz Hollister? Don't you love to suck cock? Tell us. Show us. Make me cum.
Now. Oh, sheeeeeyit!"
It started squirting his jism into her mouth and she started nodding as she sucked. They'd seen her now. They'd discovered her awful secret and it no longer mattered what she did. Phil's rich young cum spurted into her mouth in wonderfully thrilling hot jets and she sucked it up and swallowed it with gusto, reaching out as she did to get at the young bodies crowding in on her. It didn't matter that she recognized two of them as Jimmy's friends, nothing mattered but getting at them all, one by one or all together. She sucked the first young prick dry and fell back from it, helping the others to tear at her clothes, then sprawling naked on her back in the entry way of her house.
The other three boys were ripping off their clothes as they fought for access to her body with their hands. The hands hurt her at times, but she laughed, feeling gloriously good, wonderfully drunk, supremely sexy. Phil and the girl stood by the door, arms about each other, smirking down at her as she writhed in the center of the eager trio, and she smiled back at the couple for they didn't know what a huge favor they were doing for her.
One of Jimmy's friends fucked her first. She couldn't think of his name. He threw himself on her as if she was a sled, panting loudly at her ear and using his short, skinny boy's prick in her just as fast as he could. He came in seconds, arching his sturdy little body like a bow and making very plaintive whining sounds as he shot his lovely little load in her. Fast as he was, he made her cum, and his reward was her finger being shoved in his asshole to extend the period of his frenetic writhing on her orgasming body.
The other two pulled him off, and as they argued and pushed to see which of them would be the next to use her very receptive body, she struggled to a sitting position and got both their pricks in her hands. She was trying to get them in her mouth when Phil intervened: "Hey, dig. She wants you both at once, men. Why don't you do her that way?"
"Huh?" they said, gone stupid with their lust, and Bea had to show them what it was that Phil had had in mind.
She managed to get up on her knees, her dripping pussy over her ankles, and get the two boys side by side. She brought the heads of their pricks together, and opening her mouth wide, managed to engulf them both. She wished they'd cum in her mouth. She wished there were a dozen more boys to be had, waiting, watching, as eager for her lovely body as she was for theirs.
"Too much," said Sharon, the girl whose panties had so intrigued her son that he'd paid for them. "What a dick-licker she is. I don't believe it."
Phil snuggled her closer, wrapped her hand about his cock, and said, "I told ya I'd make the grade with her, but I didn't think it'd go this far. Hey, guys. Chet. Kenny. Fuck her both at the same time. Do like I say. Chet, lay down on your back. She'll go for it, won't you, Miz Hollister?"
By then she'd go for anything. Her first orgasm had only been a teasing thing, and she had to have more, much more, while she still could.
The boy lay on his back, giggling. He was short and stocky and so was his prick, standing straight up from his furry loins. Bea needed no prompting to climb up on him and lower her gaping, itching cunt down on his cock. She squatted on him like a frog, trying to kiss him while she ground her cunt on his rigid member, but he kept turning his face away. Through her consuming lust she was still able to wonder at how her boys could fuck her and eat her with no compunction, but couldn't bring themselves to willingly kiss her on the mouth. They were working behind her, trying to hold her still, trying to fuck her in the ass. She wanted it, strange and perverse as it would be, but she couldn't stop her hips from their gyrations.
"Help me hold her, goddamn it!"
"Hold still, you horny bitch," Phil commanded, and got astraddle her back to help his friend.
His friend was none too gentle about getting his big hard boy-prick in her asshole. It hurt, but the hurt was more than made up for by the feeling of a second hard young prick going into her orgasming body. She moaned and groaned with sheer pleasure trying to move but unable to. But there was no need for moving. The boy behind her was doing all the work, ramming his prick into her behind again and again, with greater and greater pleasure for her, and making the other prick in her cunt move as well. Her orgasms were of insane intensity, one after the other in such rapid succession that they blended together into one great orgasm which she knew very well would never stop.
Her head was yanked back by the hair, and there before her was a pussy, young and pink and open, and smelling of sex, young sex. When it was pushed at her face, she readily licked it, not because it turned her on, for she could not be any more turned on than she was already. She licked it because the good feelings flowing through her were altogether so wonderful that they had to be shared with someone, with anyone.
"I'm cummin'! I'm cummin'!" said the boy in her cunt.
"Yeahhhhh. Me too!" echoed the boy in her ass.
"Yes!" she chorused, pushing Sharon away, and managing to throw her hips into vigorous action. "All of you cum! I want to make you all cum with me!"
They rolled away from her and she lay on the floor again, her body exhausted, her mind shrieking for more, more!
"Time for seconds," Phil said.
Bea reached out for him, but Sharon interfered, grabbing him to her and saying, "You want seconds, you take them from me, lover. Leave the scuzzy old bitch for them."
"Hell, yes," he said. "I want a tight pussy now. But before I do, there's somethin' I always wanted, and now I'm gonna get it. Mike, climb aboard her."
The first of the trio she'd fucked after Phil readily complied. He was fucking her furiously again, but this time she knew he'd last, and that knowledge warmed her and took away the disappointment of Phil's rejection. But he wasn't rejecting her entirely. He was squatting over her head, lowering his butt over her face, and telling her to eat it or he'd kill her.
She needed no such threat. She stuck her tongue in his descending hole and grabbed him by the thighs to pull him down on her face. It was suffocating and the taste and smell were awful, but she adored every second of it.
It didn't last long. Sharon soon pulled him away, and then Bea could watch the two young people fucking in a most amateurish fashion, leaving the other three boys all for her.
After the one called Mike had shot his load in her, Bea took charge. She found the strength to take the female superior position atop the next boy, and she felt most superior indeed in doing it. She clawed at his body with her nails, making him squirm and moan, and she clenched her cunt as tightly as she could on his prick as she fucked him. Her arms were just long enough to reach behind him and get a finger in his asshole as he climaxed, and as the last drop of his cum shot up in her, she was already reaching for the other boy.
She lost track of the times they fucked her. They fucked her with their fingers as well as their pricks, and when they at last tired of fucking her they pawed over her body as if they were studying anatomy and finding it a very comical subject. Under Phil's direction they hauled her in and dumped her in her bed, and as they trooped out, ever giggling, she would have called out to them to stay with her had it not been for Jimmy's presence in the other room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bea stayed in the shower for over half an hour on Saturday morning, washing and douching and trying to keep from being sick. It wasn't a hangover sickness she was fighting, it was the sickness at herself for having let her body welcome the dirty little band of monkies the night before. She would never get over it. It could never be allowed to happen again, and in the shower she formulated plans to irrevocably prevent a reoccurrence of her shame.
She dressed in slacks and a blouse, just like she did on any other Saturday, and as she did, she reached the conclusion that she really could carry out her plan. She had little choice. The boys would talk, they'd be back on some other drunken night, Jimmy would learn what kind of a woman his mother was. She let him sleep. It was close to noon when he came out of his room, wan and shame-faced. Bea made no mention of his having gotten drunk the night before, and he asked no questions about how he'd gotten home. It was painful enough for her to talk to him at all that day, but she did.
"Here's five dollars," she said. "Why don't you go to a show this afternoon. I'm going to drive over to Port Halstead. There's a fashion show at Broom's Department Store I'd like to see. I might stay over for dinner, so you use the change from the five dollars to eat out too. Go on, now. And have a good time, dear."
She said it all as briskly as she could, and she didn't kiss him good-bye, even though she'd never see him again. She changed clothes, putting on her nice blue suit, hose and heels, gloves and hat, just as if she really was going to a fashion show. She would, in fact, start for Port Halstead, sixty miles away. There were large trees by the side of that road as well as some very precipitous cliffs, and somewhere along those sixty miles she'd find the courage to turn her speeding car off the road, ending her life in a crash of grinding metal and flying glass. It was the only way.
Only the four boys and Sharon would suspect her death was a suicide, and it might just sober them into keeping their dirty mouths shut about her dreadful experience with them of the night before. If rumors did circulate, the respect for the dead would keep them at a minimum and perhaps Jim and Jimmy wouldn't even hear of them. She longed to write a farewell note to her husband, apologizing for the years of his life that she'd wasted, and another to her son, telling him not to think too harshly of his dead mother. She could not, of course; she could only hope and trust that their lives would be better without her. She took a last look around at her house and was just about to leave when there came a knock at the door.
The sickness returned when she opened it to find Phil Groton grinning on her front porch, with Ed Parkins by his side. "What do you want?" she said.
"You," Ed replied with a leering smile, and the two males pushed their way into her house. "Just saw Jimmy heading downtown, and with Jim on the road, we thought you might be lonesome. We came by to keep you company. Just like old times, Bea, but even better now with my young friend Phil on board too."
"Get out of here. I won't have you in this house." She spoke calmly, but her smoldering anger and disgust for them showed very clearly in her tone. Ed looked older than his years. His curly hair was graying and receding and the sparkle in his blue eyes was now a leering glint.
Phil's expression mimicked Ed's, and she hated them both roundly.
"You look awful nice, Miz Hollister," Phil said. "Nicer than you did last night when we left you. Nice enough to fuck again."
"Now, Phil," Ed said, "that's no way to talk in front of a lady. But you're not a lady, are you, Bea? You're a very frustrated woman who loves to have sex, who can't get enough of it. We're here to see that you do. Now and from now on. I've got a little apartment across town where we could get together for a little fun whenever you get lonely -- or whenever we do, Phil and I. We're good buddies, even though he's a lot younger than me. He gets me some very interesting books and things. They're in my apartment. Come on. You can see them now."
"I'm not going anywhere with you, and if you don't leave my house at once, I'm calling the police."
Phil laughed and Ed said, "Do it by all means. And when they get here, I'd like to have a little talk with them too. There are all sorts of things going on in this town they don't know about. Well? Are you going to call them or are you going to start stripping?"
"Hey, she could do a dance for us!" Phil enthused. "A strip-tease."
"Not a bad idea, Phil. Phil comes up with some dandies-- but then, you already know about that. Well, Bea? What do you say? The telephone or a little party?"
She shook her head. "There's nothing you could do to make me touch either one of you."
"Shit, Mr. Parkins, just go after her. Like I did. Once she starts, there's no stopping her."
Ed Parkins rubbed his jaw, his derisive gaze flicking over her body. "You might have something there, my boy. A little rape might be just the thing to start our future relationship with Mrs. Hollister off on the right foot."
They advanced, grinning, and Bea stood her ground. Ed ripped off her hat and Phil laid his hands on her body, and she didn't flinch, didn't move. Laughing, saying obscene things back and forth, they began to undress her, opening the buttons on her jacket, sliding down the zipper on her skirt. She felt dead already, and she knew she'd stay that way no matter what they did to her.
"What kind of a rape is this?" Ed snarled, and tore her blouse down the front.
"Yeah," said his slimy little protege, and ripped off her slip.
They cackled then, tearing off her undergarments until she stood in the center of a pile of rags, and still she neither moved nor spoke. Ed slapped her viciously across the face, rocking her back on her heels, but bringing forth no response.
"Fucking bitch," he snarled. "You won't turn off on me. I'll have you dancing on the end of my cock before I'm done with you."
"Yeah, show her your cock, Mr. Parkins. That'll get to her."
Both of them ripped open their pants and crowded in on her, rubbing their erect organs against her denuded body, fondling and pinching her. She stood silent and unflinching, blood dripping down her chin, proud that their penises on her flesh brought forth not the slightest feeling of sexual desire.
"Goddamn it, Phil, I thought you said she was a hot one."
"She was, Mr. Parkins. Man, she just wouldn't quit. Go ahead and fuck her. You'll see."
He'd see a dry hole and a woman as lifeless as a dead fish, thought Bea.
"Eat her out a little bit," Phil said. "That sure got to her last night."
"Might be amusing," Ed said, and gave her nipple a last hard pinch before getting down on his knees and running his hands up and down her thighs, smacking his lips noisily with his nose just an inch from her hairy triangle.
I will not give in, she thought. I will not show the slightest response, no matter what!
There came the sound of a motor outside and Phil was suddenly leaping around, pulling up his pants and crying, "Jesus, it's her old man! Get out! Get out!"
"Wh...?" Ed started to jump up, but Bea's knee caught him under the chin and sent him sprawling back on the floor. He was still struggling to get up when Jim loomed large in the door.
"What the hell?" he shouted. "What the hell's going on here?"
"She invited me over!" Ed called out, scuttling backward like a crab across the floor, trying to cover his wilting penis.
Jim was on him in two long strides, jerking him to his feet, saying, "Yes, and she invited you to rip off her clothes and bloody her mouth, too! Is this how you did it?"
Jim's fist made a wet, crunching sound as it drove into Ed's face. At the same time, Phil yelped and dashed from the hallway through the open door. Ed's face was a mass of blood, and as Jim drew back his hand to hit him again, Bea spoke: "Wait, Jim. I'm the one you should be beating."
"You... you did invite them in?"
She shook her head. "No. I did worse than that. Let him go. Let me put on a robe. Then I'll tell you all about it. I've got to, Jim."
Six months later Bea dejectedly entered the house Jim had rented in the large city two hundred miles away from Kernville. It was a weekday afternoon. Jimmy was in school and Jim was home, for now his auctioneering was conducted only in the mornings and he was always there at night. He said it was because he was doing so much better in the big city that he didn't have to travel, but she knew it was because he still didn't trust her. Who could, after what she'd done?
"How did it go?" he asked, and kissed her on the cheek.
"About the same. Dr. Bouton took me all the way back to my childhood today. He seems to think I'm making progress, but I honestly don't."
"Give it a chance. You know how long psychiatry can take."
"And I know how much it costs, too. I'm ready to give up, Jim. I can't help it."
"Don't talk like that. I can easily afford it now, and I want you whole again, as you should be."
"Yes," she sighed, "as the loving wife I never was. Good in bed. Without thinking about little boys."
"Hush, sweetheart," he said, and took her in his arms. "I want you any way I can have you. I love you."
"You can't. It isn't possible to love a woman like me. I'm too bad." She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her.
"You did some bad things. That's over with now, and you're still the girl I married. I still love you."
She laughed long and mirthlessly, then reached down and grasped the bulge in his pants. "I think you need a psychiatrist worse than I do. You're insane to be a celibate."
"Honey, there are lots of women I could take to bed. I'm waiting for you."
"All right, take me to bed now. Find out for sure what it's like to fuck a frigid woman."
"Not till the doctor says you're ready, Bea. Not till you know you are."
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she said, rubbing the growing bulge, wanting to have the ordeal over and done with and thus prove to him he'd be better off without her. "Come on, lover," she said, her voice mocking, her hand clutching, her loins sere and dry. "Come on and fuck me."
"You're a hard woman to resist," he said.
"Then, don't. The doctor said I was ready," she lied, "and I say so too. Come on. I'll show you a good time."
It was very strange undressing with him in the bedroom that held the twin beds. She looked him over as she did. He was the same man she'd married, still trim and strong, and his penis which she had not seen in months was still as big and erect as it had ever been. He deserved a better woman and his penis deserved a better vagina, and she'd do her best to prove that to him now.
"God, you're beautiful!" he exclaimed, taking her in his arms, rubbing his strength against her softness. "I'd almost forgotten just how beautiful you are."
"Beautiful as a statue, and just as cold."
"I'll warm you, darling," he said, his penis nestling hotly against her belly, his hands strong but gentle as they stroked her back.
For a moment she was flying, exhilarated as he swept her up in his arms and deposited her on the bed, but just as quickly her coldness returned. He lay on his side beside her and stroked her belly as he kissed her face and throat and breasts. He's as eager as one of my little boys, she thought, and turned her head away. She was lifeless, she was dead, and she wished she'd really killed herself six miserable months before.
"Beautiful body. Beautiful woman," he murmured, nuzzling ever lower with his lips.
"Eat her out a little bit, "Phil had said so long ago. "That will get to her, Mr. Parkins." It wouldn't. Nothing would, but she wearily opened her legs to let him try.
He went at it greedily, getting up on his knees and delving in her dry cunt with his tongue as if it was the sweetest thing in the world. Even before her perversion had appeared she'd rarely let him do this. Now she would, for it would prove beyond a doubt how deep-seated was her frigidity.
Her pussy was no longer dry. His deep kisses were wetting it, and she turned to watch him going down on her with little more than clinical interest. As she did, she saw his prick from the corner of her eye. It was so very big, its head was so lividly pink, its shaft so stoutly curving. She turned her head some more, and as she did, he shifted so that she saw his balls, heavy hanging and fringed with brown hair. She placed her hand on his leg and he moved so that she could see even more of his genitalia, and of its own accord her hand slid up his leg and smoothed itself over his buttocks, slightly hairy but quite smooth. His balls were very soft to the touch, making his prick feel even harder. She squeezed it, felt of the soft underside, and as she did a drop of seminal fluid oozed out of that large eye at the end of it.
All at once she was salivating so that she couldn't swallow fast enough. Her nose was being assailed with his strong, mature male smell and she had to use both hands on him at once, touching him wherever she could, caressing him, then dragging him closer. Only when her twistings had caused his tongue to leave her cunt did she realize how tremendously good it had been feeling, and she heaved her crotch up at him even as she scrambled to get her head under his big body. Nothing in the world ever tasted so good as his prick in her mouth, and she moaned with delight as she sucked more of it in, fondling his balls with one hand, using the other on his fat shaft, orgasming now under the administrations of his flying tongue and sucking lips. More than anything else now she wanted him to cum, to shoot load after load of his hot love juice down her throat, to let her at last taste what she had foolishly denied herself for all the years of their marriage. To this end she ran her hands up over his ass again, parting his hairy buttocks and burrowing a finger deep in his anus.
He went wild. He all but choked her to death with his prick driving into her gullet, and she loved every moment of it. He rolled away, depriving her of what she most needed and denying her almost tearful pleas as he turned around on the bed.
"Let me suck it, Jim! Let me taste your cum!"
"Another time," he panted. "Right now I've got to feel it in you, no matter what!"
It was already pushing at her hugely-wet, splayed-open cunt, and she forgot all about having it in her mouth and threw her legs in the air. She got her hands on his back and pulled at him, and when the big knob of his cock popped inside her, she screamed. "YEEEEEEEEEE!"
He stopped. "Oh, God! Did I hurt you?"
"Do it! Fuck me! Get it all in!" she cried, contorting her sweating body madly, desperate to impale herself as far as she could on that magnificent organ that was pushing its way into her, driving out whatever evil resided in her and replacing it with love.
"Easy, baby. Go slow, Bea, or I won't be able to control myself."
"Fuck me, Jim! All the way! Cum! I've got to have it. Now! NOW!"
He made a ghastly, wonderful groan and began socking it to her, drawing it nearly out of her convulsing pussy and then slamming it deep inside her, battering her cervix and bouncing their pubes together, over and over, endlessly, while stars burst about her and fireworks exploded in her brain. Even under his weight she could move her agile little body, and this she did, filled with cock, filled with joy, overflowing with love. The wonderful sawing movements slowed and she squeezed down hard on his cock to wring every drop of love and pleasure she could from it, moaning, close to crying with her great joy and with his. When at last she relaxed, a marvelous tingling suffused her body from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, and she clung to him and murmured softly at his ear: "I love you, Jim."
He started to laugh. She was insulted for a moment, but how could anyone be insulted with that wonderful jiggling against her clitoris and up inside her wholly-gratified cunt. Despite herself, she laughed too, and she said, "What's so funny?"
"I was just thinking -- it's not so bad having a frigid wife."
"And it's not so bad having a celibate husband," she giggled, squeezing him as hard as she could with her arms and her pussy.
"I love you, Bea," he softly said, kissing her lips.
"And I love you. What time is it?"
"A little after two," he said.
"Good. Our brat won't be home for another hour. I think that'd be long enough for me to get my fill of sucking your prick for today. And tomorrow is another day."
