My Best Friend's
I.
We were sort of outcasts; my girlfriend Donna, Scott, and his girlfriend
Linda, and I. We had all been tagged as "gifted" in school, which was much
more a curse than a blessing. At the confusing age of 14, who wants to be
categorized as different from their peers? Rather than feeling special or
advantaged, we felt freakish. As if the gods were determined to punish us
further still, with the exception of Scotty, we were among the poorest kids
in our middle school, certainly the poorest in our gifted classes. We had
other friends, but how do you invite the son of a successful corporate
attorney, who lives in a twenty-room mansion, to your three room bungalow,
with the freeway whizzing noisily and ceaselessly outside your bedroom
window. Scotty wasn't poor, but he lived under some other cloud. He was
perpetually laconic, like an trapped in the distorted funhouse of a
teenager's body. I accepted his quite and inexplicable sadness, he
accepted my abashed poverty. We were friends. We had found one another
almost unconsciously, since to acknowledge our awkwardness and pain was
beyond us at that tender age. We just wanted to be normal, and so we
pretended among ourselves that we were. I had paired with Donna, the
daughter of a couple of recent immigrants from Hungary who barely spoke
English. They draped themselves in ostentatious gold chains and Gucci
sunglasses, all the while living in an illegal rental unit stuck behind
their immigration sponsor's modest house. Donna's house was close by the
barren corridor of land empty but for weeds and the tall five towers
that held high tension electrical cables that hummed vigorously twenty four
hours a day. Scott began dating Linda. We double dated a lot, we were too
young to do much but go to or grab some burgers. Donna was nice,
and let me kiss her and cop short feels of her barely formed through her blouse, but I actually felt much closer to Linda. I sometimes
envied Scott, as he held Linda's hand at the movies, and wished Linda was
my girl. I'd never met anyone like Linda. She had a fabulous sense of
humor, was as bright as me (and at that time and place I thought no one was
as bright as me), and had the talent of putting me at ease. This was a
talent I did not possess myself, being as nervous and as highly strung as a
cat. She was tall and lithe, with straight hair parted down the
center and almost overlarge expressive eyes that were a light shade of
violet. As was the style then, her standard uniform was hip hugger jeans
and white cotton peasant blouses. She lived near the city limits, on the
main street, at the Ace Motel, which her owned and operated. I
found myself drawn to the Ace Motel, dropping in unannounced from time to
time to visit with Linda. She didn't seem to mind, and I didn't try to
alter our relationship. Her didn't seem to mind my visits either,
as long as we left the doors to the rooms we were in wide open. She had
many chores to do, so I would follow her from room to room as she cleaned
up or did the voluminous laundry. We'd drink soda pops and talk. She made
a great confidante. School ended for the year, and as the temperature rose
so did my hormone levels. I tried to corner Donna alone whenever I could,
but she was not at same stage of sexual development and found my new ardor
alarming. "Stop it! Get your hand out of there!" she cried as I attempted
to insinuate my hand down the front of her jeans. "Don't you like it?" I
asked. She pouted, I disengaged. It went like this for a month, me trying
to make some sort of headway, she holding me off. Compounding this was my
inexperience. I was almost fifteen, but I was a virgin. I knew little
about making love beyond what my penis, which was now more or less in a
state of perpetual hardness, drove me to do. I had no one to tell of this
predicament. I was too ashamed to talk about it with Scott, our banter
about sexual matters was all hollow Playboy bravado. I sensed his unease
at speaking about his own feelings about sex, and allowed things to remain
shallow. Then one afternoon as the temperature crept toward 100 degrees, I
left my house with an empty head and a half-stiff penis. My feet took over
and before I knew it I had walked the mile and half to the Ace Motel. I
went to the office to ask if Linda were in. There was no one there. The
door was locked, with a sign reading "Back in an hour, please drop key in
mailslot at checkout." I walked through the carport, and headed back
through the parking lot to the laundry room. Linda was inside, folding
sheets. "Oh, hi Bobby." "Hey. Where is everybody?" I told her the office
was empty. "Mom and dad had to drive into the City. Some lawyer business.
They won't be back until tonight." I began to help her fold sheets. It was
stifling hot in the small close room, with the humid exhaust of the dryers
augmenting the heat of the still summer air. "Wow, they left you in
charge?" "Sure, they do it all the time. C'mon, let's take these to the
rooms." As we walked back toward the office I noticed that many of the
rooms seemed to be occupied, with drawn shades and closed doors. The Ace
Motel was two one buildings, separated by the parking lot, with half
a dozen rooms in each wing. Out of the dozen rooms, perhaps eight or nine
of them were occupied. We started at the front, entering the first open
door closest to the streets. I helped Linda spread the clean bottom sheet.
As she leaned to smooth it I stared at her chest. The heat had made her
sweat, and the sheer cotton of her blouse was nearly transparent where it
made contact with her body. She was not wearing a bra. I could clearly
see her nipples. She looked up at me and caught me staring, smiled, and
went back to her job. We did three rooms, and then retired to the office.
She let me come behind the desk, to her living quarters. I sat on
their sofa, she sat across from me in her dad's Barclounger, and we drank
ice tea. I continued to stare at her tits. They seemed much bigger than
I'd remembered them. I was getting another stiffy, but I didn't see how I
could approach my friend Scott's girlfriend. It seemed a rather pointless
erection, one I had a hard time concealing in my short summer cutoff jeans.
Linda told me she was glad I'd come over, because Donna had asked her to
talk to me. This made me uneasy, and I naturally jumped to the conclusion
that Donna asked Linda to tell her that she wanted to break up with me.
This was how these things were done. I shifted in my chair uneasily, both
from anxiety and to shift my erection, which was caught in the folds of my
underwear. "Bobby, Donna is really upset. She thinks you're only
interested in fooling around, and she doesn't want to go as far as you do.
She's afraid you'll break up with her." I mumbled something about loving
her. Linda continued, "Listen, I've been having the same problem with
Scott." "Well, are more aggressive than girls. We're supposed to want
to do it more." "No, Bobby, it's not like that. I want to do stuff, Scott
doesn't want to. He says he's saving himself" "Saving himself?" This was
the stupidest thing I had ever heard. "For what?" "I don't know. It
drives me crazy." She left her chair and joined me on the couch. She had a
funny look in her eyes, as if some kind of veil had fallen over them, as if
she were in some sort of trance. She said in a whisper, "I want to do all
kinds of things. I tried with Scott, but he's too scared. Bobby, do you
want to do things?" Did I ever. "What kind of things?" I wanted to hear
her say them as much as I wanted to do them. Watching her obvious arousal
was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. She leaned into me and we kissed.
It was electric, and I groaned. Her pointy tongue darted into my
mouth, and we put our hands behind each other's heads to hold them together
as we let our tongues dance. She broke it off and backed away, our eyes
locked. She said, "Come with me, I want to show you something." She jumped
up, and I followed. We went out of the office, back towards the laundry
room. I was confused, but game. Linda dug into the pocket of her
hiphuggers, found what she wanted, and entered the humid room filled with
the roar of the dryers. Linda let the heavy door of the laundryroom click
shut behind us. She put a key into the lock of what I had always assumed
to be a closet door, and flipped a switch. A dim light played through the
opening. She looked over her shoulder, flipping her long hair toward
me. "C'mon", she whispered. I walked through the door and she closed it
behind me. We weren't in a closet, but a long narrow hallway. I peered
through the gloom, and saw half a dozen rectangles of light reflecting on
the back wall. Linda took my hand, brought her other to her mouth and
motioned for me to be quiet with a finger to her lips. We walked to the
first rectangle of light. It was a window, or more accurately a one-way
mirror, looking into one of the rooms. We were overlooking the head of a
bed, on which some bald guy lay snoring in his underwear. An open
bottle of vodka sat on the nightstand to his right. A suitcase was open on
the floor, its contents haphazardly splayed as if his clothing had
exploded. Linda pulled me further down the corridor. The next room was
empty, we'd made the bed and emptied the ashtrays not half an hour before.
We walked stealthily up to the next window. We stopped dead in our tracks.
Another lay on the bed, but he wasn't asleep. He was nude. I wasn't a
very good judge of age at that point, but I could tell he wasn't as as
my father. He was smoking a cigarette, and idly playing with his penis,
which was although semi-hard. I looked at Linda. She was staring
openly at the man's cock. Just then, the bathroom door opened and a woman
stepped out. She seemed quite a bit younger than the man, and she won my
undivided attention. She wasn't naked, but she wore some sort of underwear
contraptions I had never seen outside of Penthouse magazines. She had on a
corset, stockings, and garters. Her pointed proud and uncovered over
the corset top, and she wore no panties. She stood at the foot of the bed
and ran her hands up her sides, showing off for the man, until she held her
arms straight above her head. This had a dual effect, it brought the on the bed's penis to full length and mine as well. I gulped, and Linda
put her finger over my lips this time as a reminder to make no sound. The
women in the room lowered herself to the bed, and walked up between the
man's spread legs on her knees. She took hold of his penis, and stroked it
lightly, holding it to one side to admire it. I looked at Linda. She
admired it too, licking her lips. The woman stroked it, holding it
upright, and then squeezed it so that the huge purple head became shiny and
taut. Then she leaned forward and put it in her mouth. My left hand, the
one farthest from Linda, wandered to my crotch, and I unconsciously rubbed
my dick through my cuttoffs. It was stifling hot in the narrow hallway,
and sweat poured down my face. I stole a glance at Linda, and she was
dripping. Her sheer blouse was sopping now, and her nipples showed through
as if they were peering through holes cut for that purpose. Again our eyes
met, and then Linda looked down and saw my left hand gripping my hardon.
Linda took hold of the hem of her blouse and pulled it off. I did the same
with my t-shirt. Wordlessly we unbuttoned our pants, hooked our underwear
with our thumbs, and stepped out of them. We were naked now, our clothes
in a pile at our feet. Linda stepped up to me and put her arm around my
waist, and pulled me gently back to the window. Linda wanted to watch, and
as much as I was drawn to touch her nubile body, I wanted to see what was
happening in the room too. The woman was moving her head up and down over
the man's cock. He had his hands on her head, her fingers entwined in her
hair. I'd of course never seen a man's erect penis before, and it seemed
huge beyond belief. I looked down at my own dick, which was standing
straight up against my belly. It didn't seem as long, but it was thick.
Linda knelt down, and put her long narrow fingers around it. I grew dizzy.
She pulled on me until my cockhead was as taut and engorged as the in
the room. I felt Linda's hot breath on my boydick as she slowly pumped.
Then she let go, stood up, and took my hand. She pulled me reluctantly
away from the window, farther up the hallway. We were at the next window.
It was dark in the room, the lights were off, but in a moment my eyes
adjusted. The bed was empty, but I saw a shape in the straight back chair
against the wall, and another standing next to it. The shape in the chair
took on definition as my eyes became accustomed to the gloom; it was
another man. He sat immobile while the shape standing next to him leaned
over him. The shape was a woman, and she was handling the in a manner
than made his head jerk back. The darkness became more and more yielding
to my eyes, until I could see nearly everything in fuzzy detail. The woman
was pinching the man's nipples. His wrists were tied to the wooden arms of
the chair. I looked at Linda, puzzled. This made little sense to me. Why
would anyone want to do this? The woman stepped around to face the man.
She opened his knees with one her own. She, like he, was completely nude.
She was small, much smaller than the man, with a brown pixie haircut and
small with obscenely large aureoles. She wore a small black mask,
like the Lone Ranger, over her eyes. She reached on the floor and picked
something up. It was some kind of switch. She flicked it on the man's
thigh, which made him jump. I gasped as she flicked the man's penis with
the thin crop. Linda quickly turned to me and put her hand full across my
mouth. She took my dick in her other hand and squeezed hard. I calmed
down. We embraced once more, and I shifted so I was standing behind her as
we continued our voyuerism. The woman was rhythmically whipping the man's
cock. It throbbed and bounced. Occasionally she would stop with the whip
and lightly run a finger over the ridge of his urethra. When the woman was
satisfied with her work, she dropped the thin whip on the floor, and
spreading her legs over the arms of the chair she pulled herself over the
tormented organ she'd just flaggelated to complete tumescence. It swayed
and bobbed as if it were searching hungrily for the woman's sex, which
hovered no more than an inch above it. I ran my hand up Linda's torso,
finally cupping her full heavy in my palms. Her skin was so
smooth, her so firm. Linda leaned her head back so we could tongue
one another. Her pert round ass ground against my teenage hardness. My
cock lodged between her asscheeks, and she arched her back, pushing her
cheeks around me. I rocked my hips, fucking her asscheeks. I was close to
cumming, covered head to toe in sweat, in a fever caused both by Linda's
hot body and the tableaus we were witnessing. The woman continued her
journey up the arms of the chair. She leaned back and put a heel on the
chair arm, raising her body until her crotch was in the man's face. She
was agile, like a monkey, bent and raised and grasping, clutching the man's
head and forcing it between her thighs. The monkey woman ground her sex
into the man's face, fucking it. She was in charge, she set the pace,
rubbing her up and down the man's mouth, from his chin to his
forehead. She rose slightly and humped against his nose in short spasms.
Now it was Linda's turn to gasp. She turned to face me, placed her hands
on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees. Her hands drifted up to my
ears, and then she pulled me into her. My nose rubbed against the soft
golden tufts of her pubic hair, my head gently turning back and forth.
Linda parted her legs and pulled me in. I kissed her mound as if it were
her mouth. She lifted her left leg and draped it over my shoulder. Her
smell intoxicated me. I pulled back just far enough so that I might look
at her, my first look at womanhood. She had the demure cleft of a ripe
peach. I took my tongue and parted her split. She pulled my hair, and I
buried myself in her. She fucked against me with the same fervor the woman
in the room had displayed moments before. Her sex opened for my mouth, the
tender lips slippery with the nectar of her excitement. I licked her with
broad wipes, then, pointing my tongue, I pierced her, losing myself in the
act of tongue-fucking my best friend's girlfriend. I wiggled my tongue
deep in her tunnel, reveling in her taste and smell. Her breath was
coming faster, in sharp pants. I moaned in sympathy. Neither one of us
was in control, dangerous in our position as toms watching adults
go about their most private acts through the thin membrane of a one-way
mirror. I fucked Linda's tender teen sex with long tongue-probes of her
honeyed hole, pulling out and lapping all the way up to the strawberry
blond pubic puff crowning the center of my universe. I noticed when I
swiped a certain spot it made Linda spasm, so I concentrated my efforts
there. It was near the top of her slit, at the nexus of the folds of her
pussy lips, a little crease that grew like a tiny erection. I didn't know
this was her clitoris, I just knew that I was driving her crazy, which made
my own sex drip clear fluid in a steady slow drip to the floor of the
corridor. Linda grabbed me so hard my nose smashed into her pubic bone,
making me see stars. She put a finger in her mouth and bit down to stifle
her cries, with only partial success, as she whimpered quietly like a
motherless puppy. She rubbed her unbelievably wet back and forth
over my face in slower and slower motions. At last she pushed me away,
gently but firmly, as if she could stand my ministrations on her most
sensitive spot no longer. I glanced to the left, through the window into
the dim light of the motel room. The woman was no longer forcing the to eat her. She squatted over his lap, bouncing stridently on the man's
incredibly long cock. Her hands were locked behind his neck and she used
her arms to leverage herself up and down. Linda kneeled down next to me,
resting her hand on my thigh. As we watched the adults lewdly fucking, the
man tied down but raising his ass high off the chair to meet the monkey
woman in mid-stroke, I placed my hand over Linda's and moved it over to my
dick, which twitched in sympathetic rhythm to the couple rutting in the
motel room. She pulled away, to my disappointment, bringing her hand to
her mouth, and then she spat in it. Then she put her hand back on me,
slippery with her saliva. She jerked me hard and purposefully. I moved my
hips in concert with the and woman on the chair. My poor fourteen year
old boydick, and raw and hard as a steel bar, twitched and jerked under
the rough treatment of Linda's grip. I grunted, I couldn't help it. The
couple were fucking faster now, and I kept up their pace as I threaded my
penis through the fuck pocket of Linda's fist. I was breathing like a
locomotive. The woman inside the room shortened her strokes, and their
sounds obliterated my hushed noises. Suddenly the monkey woman sprang off
the man, leaving his cock bobbing long and stiff in the air. It waved
obscenely, like a cobra ready to strike, as the woman dropped to her knees
in front of it. Linda pushed me back a bit so she could lie down on the
floor before my own throbbing snake. The mans cock lurched untouched
towards his belly, and then he came, in a long white rope that arched and
whipped, landing across the monkey woman's masked face. She kneeled with
her hands on her knees, not touching the man, a wide smile on her face, as
the gushed three more strings of across the short space between
them. The streams laced her face, like the frosting on a hot cross
bun. She stuck her tongue out and lapped at the white syrup. My own
dick shuddered like an truck engine misfiring, and then Linda's fine thin
hand pulled the boycum out of me in a white hot eruption. I looked down as
my penis spurted again and again, my thinner than the in the room
but just as copious. Linda lay in front of me, her eyes closed, her lips
parted as I sprayed her. She let loose of my dick, and the change in
pressure caused my ass to clinch. A wave of orgasmic frenzy that felt
pulled all the way from somewhere deep in my ass shot through my nutsack,
up my seminal vesicles, and out through my urethra. My one last splooge
shot out, and strong like mancum, landing on Linda's outstretched
tongue. Linda smeared the mess on her face with her hands, as if she were
washing in it. She took her hands, slick with my slime and rubbed them
over my cock and balls. I in my breath, now understanding why Linda
had pushed me away after her own climax. It was almost too much, the
sensations now verging on pain. I was still dripping in dollops over
her nimble fingers onto the floor. We stank in the hot narrow hallway, our
fevered teenage sex sweat and various excretions mingling in a miasmic
funk. Almost as an afterthought, we turned to the room. The couple, who
had been lost in their own erotic frenzy the last we'd noticed them, sat
attentive like dogs listening for their masters to return from a day's
work. The woman rested her hands on the man's knees. The leaned back,
ear cocked. The woman spoke, in a hushed contralto, "I swear I heard
something." "Me too, hon." The relaxed. "Probably some of our
neighbors enjoying themselves. You know this place, home of the afternoon
delight" "Hmm. You're probably right, but I could swear it was coming from
over there." At that she pointed directly at Linda and I. I ducked
involuntarily, as did Linda. It didn't matter that we were peering through
the side of a one way mirror, we felt exposed as if we were in the
room with them. The told the woman not to be so paranoid. And to
untie him. He said he have to go home and get cleaned up for dinner.
Linda and I crept low, below the mirror-window, to the pile of our clothes.
Linda squeezed my hand, and I pulled her to me. We kissed, my face
encrusted with her girlcum and her face splattered with my fresh boycum. I
realized I loved Linda, beyond the faithless pull of my teenaged groin
toward anything in a skirt. She was depraved, and I knew at that moment I
was too. We were too all-American teens crouching naked and spent in a
hallway of one-way mirrors in a pay by the hour fuck motel, slathered in
our own sex juices. We clothed ourselves in silence. I glanced through
the window where we'd first watched the woman in the merry widow suck cock,
but they had gone, leaving the door open to show they were finished with
the room. The sheets lay crumpled and damp. We left the corridor, and
were back in the laundry room. Linda stepped to the utility sink, turned
the water on and washed her face. I followed her lead, although I would
have gladly worn her cumjuice forever, every intake of my breath bringing
me her scent, pungent, almost spicey. But I couldn't very well go home
reeking like ten miles of pussy, so I scrubbed myself with a rough towel
soaked in soapy water. When I was done, Linda took my hand and opened the
door to the laundyroom. We walked up parking lot to the office. It was
getting close to dinner time, and I had to leave. As Linda reached out to
unlock the office door, I took her wrist in my hand and pulled her to me.
We kissed with incredible passion, no longer simply horny teens, but
connected more deeply, implicated together in a secret pact. We didn't
speak, neither of us had to remonstrate the other, this was our secret. I
knew I'd be back, and as I looked into Linda's violet eyes I knew she
wanted me to come back. Our bodies drifted apart and then a car door
slammed. I looked over and watched the who had been tied to the chair
put his Buick in gear and back out of the parking place without so much as
a glance in our direction. Linda giggled, and I smiled. We pulled our
crotches together and rubbed back in forth, in memory and joy. My dick was
hard again, a tube of raw nerves after the workout Linda had given it in
the darkened hallway. I kissed her some more, I wanted to go on kissing
her forever. A door closed and then footsteps. I looked over Linda's
shoulder and saw the monkey woman approaching, no doubt to drop the room
key off at the office. I looked incredulously at the small trim woman,
unmasked, who was dressed in a short white tennis dress, complete with
little white sneakers. I knew this woman! It was Scott's mother, Alice.
She had been the agile woman climbing all over the tied to the chair, a
man I knew was not Scott's dad. Alice smiled as she approached. "Hi
Bobby, fancy meeting you here." Linda and I separated, leaning away from
each other. Caught, her son's best friend and her son's girlfriend, making
out in broad daylight. My cutoffs left little to the imagination. My dick
was outlined in sharp relief, poking toward my waistband as if it were
suffocating and needed to break free into the fresh air. Alice walked
right between us and let the motel room key, with its oversized plastic
tag, drop through the mail slot of the office door. She turned and
appraised the two of us, first Linda, then me. She cocked her hip, and
placed a nut-brown hand on it. She walked up to me, very close, and I was
frozen as if held in a force field. "Fancy meeting you her with your
tongue down my Scotty's girl's throat." She shot a dark look at Linda, but
leaned close to me. "I don't blame you two, you're beautiful together.
But really, if you're going to screw around, do it in private." She poked
me angrily in the chest with a tanned brown finger manicured with hotpink
nail polish. She let her hand splay against my chest, dragged it down to
over my belly, then over the banana lump of my boydick. "I heard some
noises in my room just now. You two know anything about that?" Linda said
no, she didn't, in a high voice. "Really?" asked Alice in an overdone
ironic singsong. She moved her hand from my painfully erect bulge. "Maybe
I should ask your mother, Linda. This place has got a bad enough
reputation, hate to see it rub off on you." Linda gulped, at a loss at what
to say. Alice backed away from me, toward the parking lot. "Why don't we
get together and talk about it?" "Ok", I rasped. I was confused, aroused,
frightened, and desperate for a way out of this extremely uncomfortable
interaction. "Tell you what, why don't you two drop by my house tomorrow
around lunch. Scott is leaving for camp tomorrow in the morning, this is
between you two and me. We'll have a little private chat, just the three
of us." I nodded. Linda nodded. Alice said, "Good. Just be there, ok, or
I'll bring a shitstorm on top of both of you oversexed teenaged lovebirds."
With that she turned and sauntered to her car, a little Sunbeam Sprite.
She cranked it over and burned a little rubber on her way out of the
parking lot onto Main Street. "Uh, I gotta go now." Linda just said sure.
Then she looked at me wide-eyed and said, "Are you going to her house
tomorrow?" "What choice do we have?" Linda agreed. I longed to kiss her
goodbye a last time, I loved her more now than ever, but I also felt
completely and utterly exposed. I lurched to the street and lumbered home.
As I entered my house I smelled dinner, meatloaf from the reek of it. I
let the screen door slam behind me. My poked her head out of the
kitchen. "Hello Bobby, what's my golden been up to all day." "Nothing,
mom," I replied sullenly as I headed for my room. The typical teen, home
from a typical teen day, answering the typical question from his with the typical teen reply. I slammed my bedroom door behind me and
jumped belly first on my bed, my brain awash in sordid shame and randy
memories of a darkened corridor with rectangle of light reflected on the
wall.
II.
I woke up soaking with sweat, rolled up like a burrito in my bed covers.
It was eleven o'clock, and the summer sun had already turned our little
house into an oven. My room smelled like a subway tunnel. I extricated
myself from my percale straight jacket and pulled a clean white t-shirt and
pair of cutoff's from my chest of drawers. I had to shake a leg if I was
going to get up to Scott's house by noon. My lived in the
flatlands, which caught the heat and smog of the long summers and baked us
all like ants under a magnifying glass. Scott's house was up in the hills,
in a development with unnecessarily winding roads with names like Windemere
Circle and Brigadoon Lane. In a car I could be up there in fifteen
minutes, but on my skateboard, uphill most of the way, it would take almost
an hour I was so anxious I arrived at Scott's house at a quarter to twelve.
I walked down Lullabye Court to the Acker's familiar ranch style home, a
breeze was at my back, drying the sweat on my back and leaving a thin coat
of sweat on my skin. I stood before the dutch door and knocked. Alice
Acker, my best friend's mom, answered the door and looked up at me and
smiled. She wore a tiny pink bikini, with a see through black over that did nothing to hide her body from me. Mrs. Acker was in her early
forties, just five feet tall, tanned deep brown, and lithe and fit from
endless afternoons of tennis and swimming. "Well come on in, Bobby." She
had always been one of the cool moms, laughing at Scott and my stupid jokes and generally treating us with a knowing congeniality. She seemed no
different now. Her round elfin features beamed as if she were genuinely
glad to see me, instead of granting me an audience as the result of the
summons she had given me in the parking lot of the Ace Motel the day
before. She took my arm at the elbow and led me into the living room, and
the heat from her body next to mine made me dizzy. "Is Linda here yet?"
"Not yet. Don't worry about her, Bobby. I'm actually glad we have a
minute or two alone." I was sweating again, now more from nerves than heat.
Alice guided me into the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink?
Some juice?' "Sure." Mrs. Acker poured a tall pewter glass full with
orange juice from a pitcher. She handed it to me, and I watched a foggy
skin of condensation form, describing the level of the juice inside the
glass. It was safer keeping my eyes on my drink, because when I lifted my
gaze to Mrs. Acker, whose big round nipples were plainly erect under her
tiny thin swimsuit top, my adolescent penis pulsed ominously in my Jockey
shorts. I took a big gulp, and choked into my free hand. "Oh, that's a
screwdriver. Sorry, I hope you don't mind a little vodka." I'd never had a
mixed drink with liquor in it before. "No, that's ok, Mrs. Acker." She
sat at the kitchen table and crossed her legs. I kept my eyes lower, but
they were drawn to Mrs. Ackers narrow small feet. I don't know why, but
the stretched tendons of her ankles, and the long toes crowned by toenails
painted the same hot pink as her bikini gave me a heavy feeling in my gut.
That pressure drop was accompanied by a thickening of my cock. Then she
ambushed me, "How long have you and Linda been screwing?" "Gosh, we haven't
been, Mrs. Acker, honest." "Too bad. You looked pretty intimate the
other day. If you aren't screwing yet, you will be soon. I know about
this stuff." "Mrs. Acker, I feel awful about yesterday. I didn't plan to
do anything, it just happened. Scott's my best friend. I wouldn't do
anything to him." Alice Acker shut me up. "Listen, Bobby, listen, I
don't really care about you and your little affairs. You're very young,
Bobby. It's only natural you'd be attracted to Linda, and just about
anything else with and a pussy. And Scotty? Don't worry about that
boy." "Don't worry? But I'm in love with his girlfriend!" Scott's sighed, "Love." She said, "I'm need to tell you something about your best
friend. Wait here a minute." She jumped up and left me staring into my
dwindling cocktail. I felt warm on the inside, and cooler on the outside.
I was not quite so afraid anymore. My fear was replaced by sexual tension.
Mrs. Acker strode back into the kitchen carrying some magazines, which she
fanned out and dropped on the table in front of me. They were an
assortment of smutty books, but the models on the covers were not
naked with come hither looks, but buffed and cut with monster
wangers and stupid leers. "Wha-what are these?" "Those, Bobby, are
Scotty's secret midnight readings. They're what he jerks off to. Linda
must suspect something, whenever she gets near him his skin starts to
crawl." "You mean Scott's g-g-gay?" "As a three dollar bill. He just won't
admit to himself" She paused and downed her screwdriver in one swallow,
then poured herself another. "Not that I care, Bobby, some of my best
friend are homos. I just wish he'd get it sorted out. It's causing him no
end of grief. I think he thinks he's going crazy." "Wow." "Yeah, wow. But
I didn't invite you up here to talk about my queer son." Mrs. Acker took
the purse that was hanging on the back of her chair, opened, and pulled out
the mask she'd been wearing the day before, when she did all those nasty
things to the tied to the chair. "Does this look familiar, Bobby?" I
sat with my mouth open looking at the mask. Mrs. Acker stood up and put
it on. I stammered, "Nnnnno, Mrs. Acker," but my body betrayed me with by
revealing a deep blush of shame. My breathing became ragged and I saw
stars. Mrs. Acker smiled beneath the mask, her brown eyes sparking. "I
don't believe you." She stepped close to me, and gently ran her fingers
over my cheek. "You're blushing, Bobby." I looked down again. She said,
"I heard noises yesterday, but I couldn't tell from where. Then I figured
it out. The mirror over the bed. What did you see, Bobby? Tell me what
you saw." I began to cry. I was so scared. What did she want from me?
She stood in front of me, so close her legs were touching mine, with her
hand on my shoulder. "I saw you. I saw you naked, doing it to that man!"
"Doing what?" "Whipping his peter. making him kiss your thingy." I didn't
have the vocabulary for this sort of discourse. And talking like this with
a grown woman was beyond embarrassing. It was incredibly arousing. "And
Linda was watching with you, right?" "Yes, ma'am." "And what were you two
doing while you watched me fucking." I couldn't believe Mrs. Acker was
talking to me like this. I was gripped by a mixture of terror and sexual
excitement. . My heart was racing, my boydick was fully engorged, by my hunched body. "We were were screwing around. We were naked too and
feeling each other out" "Hmmmm, I thought so." She lifted the mask from her
beaming face. She was obviously enjoying my discomfort. She pushed
against my torso, raising me from my semi fetal slump. She pressed my
chest toward the back of the kitchen chair and slid her legs between mine,
raising a knee to climb onto my lap. Her tiny with the puffy nipples
were level with my eyes. I longed to lean forward and suck on those
nipples. Her hands were linked behind my neck and her even breath, edged
with vodka, gently rustled my hair. Her knee pressed into my hardon and
she stopped. "You like this, don't you Bobby?" I wiggled on the chair,
which only served to rub the bulge in shorts against the shiny skin of Mrs.
Acker's knee. "Your dick tells me you like it a lot. How would you like
me to teach you about sex? Would you like to learn how to please a woman"
"I- I guess so, Mrs. Acker" "Oh, Bobby, you're so cute when you're shy.
I'd forgotten males could be so sweet. " She splayed her thighs across my
lap and ground her crotch against mine. "Listen up. First lesson, call me
Ma'am. That will be your secret name for me while I show you how to be
nasty." "Ok, Mrs. Acker. I mean, Ma'am." "That's a good boy." To my
disappointment she slid back off me. She grabbed something out of her
purse, and turned back to me. Then my best friend's firmly grabbed
one of my wrists and I heard a click. I looked down to watch her place a
second set of handcuffs on my other wrist, manacling me to the kitchen
chair. She stood back from me, arms crossed, admiring her handiwork. I
looked at her, standing over me. Even though she was six or seven inches
smaller than I, she exuded a power that washed over me. Mrs. Acker went
to a drawer, and I heard it slide open, but since her back was toward me I
couldn't see what she was doing. She walked behind me, and then my best
friend's leaned over me and began to cut my t-shirt with a pair of
sewing scissors, from the neck opening down my chest until it hung open in
two halves. "Please don't me, Ma'am." Mrs. Acker didn't say
anything. She pinched my nipples with the long hot pink fingernails of her
right hand. I'd never thought of my nipples as anything special, but an
electric shock ran down straight from Mrs. Acker's fingertips to my
teenaged nuts. I my breath in. "Does that hurt?" "No, Ma'am."
"Good. But, I am going to you, Bobby, just a little." She twisted my
nipple and I squirmed. "Ow!" But she didn't stop, she reached over with
her other hand and rubbed the tip of the nipple she was tormenting with a
finger she'd wet with her saliva. I thrashed in the chair, unable to rise
because of the restraints. My dick had lengthened in a straight line down
my leg, and had escaped the leg of my underwear, threatening to poke
out of my cutoffs. Mrs. Acker let go of my nipple, and lazily walked
around my chair. She stood over me with her hips jutting out toward me,
one hand at her twisting her own nipple through the sheer lycra of
her bikini. A dark patch of dampness showed on the sheer bikini bottom.
She hissed, "A little feels good." She pulled at both her nipples, and
they raised in fat relief against the pink of her suit. She twisted so she
could dig down into her purse, and then reached out to pinch my nipples
again, this time with both hands. I looked down and saw she'd placed two
small black plastic clothespins on my tormented teats. My butt slid back
and forth across the seat of my chair. Then, satisfied with the result,
she kneeled in front of me, reached out and undid the buttons of my
cutoffs. "Raise your ass, boy." She yanked off my shorts and underwear in
one pull, and left them bunched at my ankles. My boydick slapped against
my stomach. "Mmmm, look at that! No wonder Linda is hot for you." She
spread my knees, licked a finger, and ran it up the length of my teenage
hardon from my ball sack to the band of skin connecting my shaft to the
helmet-shaped head. She waggled her finger over the most sensitive part of
me, and my dick pulsed and beat against my stomach. A big drop of precum
gathered at my peehole. I wasn't going to last long like this, I was a few
short breaths from pouring my seed onto Mrs. Acker's hand. She said, with
a somewhat mirthful concern, "You're about to cum, aren't you?" She didn't
wait for an answer. Reaching behind her without looking, she rummaged
around in her purse, her bag of endless tricks, and then cupped the
treasure she had found in front of her in her diminutive palm. She held a
contraption made from a couple of black rubber o-rings, held together with
a thin leather strap. Mrs. Acker harvested the clear fluid gathering in
the tip of my dick and rubbed the viscous boyjuice on the device. When it
was slippery enough to suit her, she took the smaller of the two o-rings
and rolled it over the bulging head of my cock. With a little difficulty
she slid it down my shaft to the base. "That should check some of your
boyish enthusiasm." Then she expertly gathered my testicles, pulled them
away from my body, and stretched the larger of the o-rings over them. She
let the o-ring snap tight. That seemingly did it. I arched my back,
expecting to shoot my sperm across the room. But nothing happened! My
orgasm was stifled by the constraining embrace of the tight rubber rings.
Instead of a climax, my cock grew more filled with blood. My veins stood
out in sharp relief and my crown became as big and taut and purple as a
ripe plum. "Ooooh yes, Bobby, just in time." Then the doorbell rang.
"There's Linda now. Don't bother getting up, I'll get it." She pulled my
underwear and cutoffs up my legs, and when I lifted my behind she buttoned
me as best she could. Mrs. Acker added sternly as she left the room, "And
don't you dare make a sound." "Yes, Ma'am," I replied feebly. Imprisoned
in the kitchen chair, I had the dawning realization that I would do
anything my best friend's asked. Everything she had done to me so
far had been so wrong, although just a lad I knew this, but it felt so
good. My boycock strained against the rubber rings surrounding my shaft and
balls, my arms involuntarily raised off the arms of my chair and pulled at
the handcuffs. I thought of Linda! Jesus, my mind was spinning.
Yesterday I had fallen in love with her, today I'm tied to a chair, my
erect cock waving blindly in the air, in the sunlit kitchen of the of my best friend. I heard Mrs. Acker open the door, then she and Linda
were talking, making innocent small talk. Mrs. Acker said, "You must be
baking. Do you want to change into a bathing suit or something?" My sweet
Linda's voice replied that she hadn't brought one. "I have tons, sweetie,
follow me." I held my breath waiting for them to enter the kitchen. I had
no idea how Linda was going to react when she found me in my peculiar
state, but I found I didn't care. But they didn't come in. Their voices
faded as they wandered off to the other side of the house. Then their
voices returned, heading for me. "I don't know, Mrs. Acker, this suit
seems awfully small." "Nonsense, it really sets off your figure. I have
little surprise for you." Mrs. Acker entered followed by Linda, who was
wearing a white bikini that may have fit Mrs. Acker, but did nothing more
for Linda than accentuate her ripe curvaceous body. The bottoms of Linda's
breasts swayed exposed beneath the thin strip of the suit top, and the
bottom had already crept up her luscious butt cheeks. She glanced down at
me and said hi. Mrs. Acker beckoned for her to sit in the chair across
from me She poured Linda a screwdriver. "Bobby and I have been spending a
little time together, chatting about what happened yesterday." "Oh." "But
don't you worry your little head about that, we straightened everything
out, didn't we Bobby?" "Yes, Ma'am." Linda's attention wandered to the
stack of magazines on the table. She gingerly picked up one that had a
closeup of a great veined dick with a boy's lips wrapped around it.
Her eyes were taking on the glaze I recognized as lust. She licked her
lips and flipped through the pages of slick color photographs, stopping now
and then when a particular dick caught her attention. "Those are Scotty's.
Go ahead and check them out. It think they might answer a lot of your
questions " Linda was absorbed in a magazine with a pictorial showing three
truckers gripping each other's cocks. She was breathing deeply, like the
day before when she ogled the men's cocks through the one-way mirror at the
Ace Motel. "Scott likes this?" Her fingers carressed the pictures as if
she were softly touching the full hard members they represented. Mrs.
Acker replied, "It looks as if you both like it." Linda smiled an evil
grin. "I like it too. A big hard dick in my mouth, mmmm, yummy! Have you
ever a a cock, Linda?" Linda put the magazine down, embarrassed by
the frank question. It was then she noticed the handcuffs on my wrists.
She leaned forward and held my hands. "Oh, Bobby! Are you ok? What has
she been doing to you?" Mrs. Acker, leaning back against the counter,
snorted, "Nothing he didn't appreciate, right Bobby?" Linda looked me in
the eyes, spreading the two halves of my t-shirts to expose the clothespins
still pinching my nipples. She touched them, confused, fascinated. She
pulled them gently. The pressure on my tortured boytitties was exquisite.
My eyes burned as my girlfriend stroked the pins. "Oh, I'd forgotten about
those. Why don't you take those off him, sweetie." Linda released the
pressure on my poor boytits. In a fit of spontaneity she took first one
then the other of my nipples in her soft pink lips. A groan escaped my
lips. "Boys are so much easier to handle when they're like this, horny and
tied up. You saw me fuck that guy yesterday. I wouldn't let that creep
near me without handcuffs. He's all sweaty hands and bad breath until he's
tied to a bed. Then I can concentrate on his sweet long cock..." Linda's
hands drifted down to my crotch. She fondled my dick through my shorts.
Mrs. Acker was watching us with heavy lidded eyes, one hand on one of her
nipples, the other playing lazily at the leg opening of her swimsuit
bottom. She hooked that finger up, and it disappeared into her thatch
of pubic hair. Linda looked over her shoulder and implored the woman, "Teach me, Mrs. Acker. I want to learn how to do it like you did.
I want to tie Bobby up and make him eat me like you did to that yesterday." "Good for you, sweetie. There's nothing better, I'm telling
you." My best friend's mother, my mistress, walked behind me and leaned
over me, unbuttoning my cutoffs. Linda tugged them off and gasped when she
saw my penis. "It's so big!" "It's the cockrings, sweetie. See them
there, at the base of his cock? They keep the blood in his dick and his
jizz in his balls. They make him get bigger and stay harder." Linda
encircled me with her hand. She stared at my cock, hypnotized, then leaned
over it. I felt my head engulfed in her soft lips. Her tongue flicked
tentatively on my slit. Linda hooked her long straight hair
behind her ears to get it out of the way and took half of my cock in her
warm mouth. She hard, her cheeks went concave, and she drew me out.
I'd never felt anything so good. Mrs. Acker observed from over my
shoulder, "You're a quick study. Jack him off a little while you're doing
that." Linda did as she was told. She made a circle of her thumb and
forefinger and slipped my dick through it. Her tongue washed under my
helmet. She licked me down to where the rubber o-ring was nearly embedded
in my dickflesh. Linda swirled her tongue round and round. She attempted
to plunge me deep into her mouth, but started to gag. "Relax your throat
and breath through your nose, sweetie." Linda did as she was told. Her
mouth surrounded me and began a slow inexorable descent, until her nose
bumped into my groin. My cock undulated past her tongue and down her
throat, which massaged me with an erratic peristalsis as it tried to rid
itself of the alien intrusion. I watched my boydick ooze back out of her
mouth millimeter by millimeter, covered in heavy saliva. "Mmmm, that spit
from the back of your throat makes an excellent lubricant." Scott's drifted around me, and she knelt down beside my teenage lover. She reached
behind Linda and undid the tie holding her bikini top. The day before in
the darkened hallway of the Ace Motel, I had held Linda's firm in my
hand, but in the dimness I had not really seen them. Now they stuck out
from her chest, full and pale and pink. Her nipples were a delicate shade
darker than the surrounding flesh, small and hard. Mrs. Acker took one of
these between her knowing fingertips and twirled it slowly. Her hand
pressed the teen forward into me, and then the forty year had my
distended prick in her other hand. She brought both hands together, and
then she was grazing Linda's nipple against my cock. Linda shifted
slightly, and her hand joined Mrs. Acker's on my dick and then she was
rubbing me against her other tit. A string of clear teen juice oozed out
of me and stretched from my cock to the pink peak of Linda's lovely breast.
Mrs. Acker massaged my precum into Linda's nipple, then brought her
fingers to Linda's mouth. "Taste him, Linda, taste this little slut's
dick juice." Mrs. Acker dropped her hands and undid the strings of Linda's
bikini bottom. Mrs. Acker rubbed the creamy globes of my girlfriends has,
then her hands were out of my view, but from Linda's movements I could tell
she must have been working on her pussy. Linda stood up and kissed me on
the mouth. I tasted my own sex, musty and strong, on her tongue. Mrs.
Acker's hands ran over the girl's body, dipping between her milky
thighs and curling in her fine pubic hairs. Linda tensed and drew away
from me. She raised a leg and rested a foot on my thigh. Our forty year
old sex teacher inserted a finger between Linda's delicate lips. The
fourteen year leaned against Mrs. Acker's hand and two fingers, then
three disappeared into her virgin fuckhole. Mrs. Acker whispered, "Bobby
was telling the truth, you've never fucked, have you Linda?" Her robing
fingers bunched against Linda's maidenhead. "Ooooh, no." Linda raised and
lowered herself on the delicious fingers probing her sex. "You'd love to,
wouldn't you?" "Mmmm, yes, I want to fuck and fuck and fuck!" "Turn around,
then." Linda turned so her back was toward me. Mrs. Acker removed her
fingers from her and positioned her so her thighs rested on the chair
arm above my manacled wrists, her weight temporarily resting on my
slouching abdomen. I could no longer see what was going on, but in a
moment I felt my penis engulfed by Mrs. Acker's mouth once more. Then she
let me go, and Linda pressed against me, and I knew the suburban was
mouthing the teen's pussy. Mrs. Acker alternated between us, driving us
both to a frenzy. Somewhere in this dance of lips and cock and cunt, Linda
began to lower herself on my body. I felt a new kind heat, a tight
squeezing. I was fucking Linda, my first fuck, just barely, the lowering and raising herself gingerly so I barely penetrated her lips. She
was groaning and heaving. Mrs. Acker continued to lap at our privates,
now with one continuous movement. Linda was responding more to Mrs.
Acker's tongue than my dick, because suddenly her hips rutted against the
forty- year-old's mouth in a sharp orgasm. "Hnnn, hnnn, hnnnn.' I felt a
tongue flicking rapidly on the underside of my dick, at least the part that
wasn't embedded in Linda. Linda's hips moved in tight circles, gradually
and slowly me further and further up her tunnel. I was
gasping into her hair. Finally, after a seeming eternity, I was buried
full on in Linda. At that moment she stopped, panting. "It hurts, Mrs.
Acker, oh God, it hurts! Oh God, it feels so good!" Her spasmed
around me, and her shoulders hunched. Her whole body tensed. Her squeezed me so hard I thought I was passing out. Then she went limp on me,
but her walls continued to squeeze and release me in spasms that
became slowly weaker and less frequent. Mrs. Acker stood, and lifted her
gently up and off my still steel hard prick. "Here Linda, sit down and
rest. That was something. I came just watching you!" Linda slumped into
the chair across from me, and I slumped too, frustrated but alert. Mrs.
Acker went to the sink and dampened a paper towel. She came back to Linda
and tenderly washed the teenager's no longer virgin pussy. Mrs. Acker
smiled down at a small spot of blood on the paper towel.
"Congratulations, Linda." She tossed the soiled towel in the corner, and
glanced over at me. "You too, lover. That was your first time too, huh?"
"Yes, Ma'am", I croaked. "Ah, poor thing, you're all tense." My jaw was
clinching and relaxing. My arms were straining against my restraints. I
felt as if my whole body was an erect penis, and I wanted to cum. I
pleaded with Mrs. Acker with my eyes, even after what we'd just done I was
too shy to ask with words. Mrs. Acker crawled to me on all fours, her
bathing suit lost in the mad shuffle of the last few minutes. She climbed
me like a tree, her hands on my shoulders kneading me loose, massaging my
kinks. Her nipples floated before me, puffy and full. Sensing my desire,
she put one of her silver dollar sized tips in my mouth. I like a
man dying of thirst. The agile housewife pressed her crotch against mine,
and her pubic thatch rasped against my tender cock. Her lips splayed
against my rod, and she dragged her wetness up and down my length. I
sucked the middle-aged woman's full nipples like I'd seen Linda handle my
cock, bringing it into my mouth with suction, then pulling my head back as
I released her. Her nipple doubled in size. Mrs. Acker was what I would
have considered flat-chested, but what she had were nearly all
maddeningly and incredibly arousing domed nipple. "Oh, yes Bobby, that's
good." My sex teacher ground herself on my captive cock, and the
combination of her soft warm flesh and the bristle of her stiff pubic
hair tormented and delighted me. She took her tit from my slobbering lips,
raised a bit, took expert aim, lowered again, and then I was in her, all
the way. She was not the tight ecstasy of Linda, but her heat matched the
heat of my cock, and she was so wet with lubrication that it was like my
cock was enveloped in silk soaked in honey. She raised once more until I
was almost jettisoned from her, and then proceeded to bounce on me in a
steady rut. "Ohhhh yes, fuck me with that big dick." "Ahhhhh, yes Ma'am."
"Ohhhhh, Christ that's good. You're so much sweeter than that asshole used
car salesman. So strong, so hard." She screwed me with long corkscrew
motions. I considered her again, but became enraptured at the
sight of this housewife, this sexy monkey of a mother, straining against my
fourteen year prick. It looked so nasty, my dick disappearing and
reappearing in the dark purple of her outer pussylips. Her lips grasped my
cock, so hard that on the outstroke they pooched out, with tiny little
veins crisscrossing the bright pinkness of her inner pussy. Faster and
faster she pumped, and I would have ten times over if not for the
rubber o-rings she'd stuck on me earlier. Mrs. Acker increased the speed
of her grind. Passion, however, was turning into pain as Mrs. Acker's
rapid and frenetic fucking created an unbearable friction on my wornout
dick. Mrs. Acker bounced and bounced. I felt something or someone
grabbing my ankles, I looked down to see Linda lifting my legs, pulling my
ass to the edge of the chair. She had one of Scott's queer magazines open,
and appeared to be trying to emulate some scenario she'd found and liked.
Mrs. Acker continued apace. Linda traced a finger up my thigh, and rubbed
my nuts like an Alladin's lamp. I felt something funny, a tickle between
my buttcheeks, becoming more focused, a palpitation on my asshole. Linda's
other hand flickered over my dick on Mrs. Acker's upstrokes. She took
Mrs. Acker's juices from my cock and massaged them on my ass bud.
Then, pressure as Linda slowly inserted a finger up my virgin asshole,
forcing me up into Mrs. Acker's voracious pussy. Linda wiggled her finger
in my rectum, and I uttered some unintelligible sting of vowel sounds. She
pulled the finger out, then reapplied her pressure with two fingers. My
ass accepted Linda's probing fingers, relaxing as she began to fuck me,
building to the same rhythm Mrs. Acker was using to impale herself on my
prick. "Oh God, I don't know what you're doing down there, Linda, but
don't you fucking stop!" Mrs. Acker grimaced, biting her lip, and jammed
herself down on me hard, once, twice, three times. Linda widened my ass
with her fingers, and one of them hit a spot inside me that made me see
bright stars. The small rubber o-ring holding me back broke then,
releasing my cock from its imprisonment. A rush of blood filled it even
further, and Mrs. Acker tightened her around it as she came in a
wave of orgasms. The sperm that had been churning for over an hour down in
my testicles while these two women played with me as if I were their toy
began to piston its way out of me. Mrs. Acker's insides rippled against
my velvet hardness, and then I exploded. My cock felt as if it had burst,
and then as if it were a garden hose as my spurted into my best
friend's mother. My dick contracted and pumped again and again. I felt as
if I were emptying my whole being into the twitching heat of her sex. I
didn't want this to ever end. Mrs. Acker reacted to my orgasm with more
of her own. She dug her nails into my shoulders, raking them, long
scratches down my chest. I didn't care. I was yelling with my mouth wide
open, still throbbing though my dick had shot out every drop of in my
body. Mrs. Acker fell against me, spent. Linda slowly pulled her fingers
out of my rectum, which burned from her somewhat brutal finger fucking.
Mrs. Acker lifted off me and stood shakily on the kitchen floor, looking
down at Linda and I. We were both sopping with sweat and sex secretions.
My teenage dick was sore, but still hard. "Cleanup time, Bobby", said my
insanely sexy middle aged love tutor. She scampered up the arms of the
chair, put one of her limber legs over my shoulder, and presented me with
her sex, wide open and oozing my own sperm. I got queasy. This was
counter everything I ever thought erotic. Then choice flew out the window
as Mrs. Acker simply pulled my reluctant face into her mess. "Lick me,
boy. Open wide and your load, you little slut." My ears burned. I
was her little slut, her and Linda's. I lapped and swallowed, feeling my
own slime slide down my gullet. My ass hurt, my cock ached. I felt
enormously happy. I was Mrs. Acker's sperm slurping slut, and my
girlfriend Linda's toyboy buttslut. I'd finally found a place for myself
in a cruel and indifferent universe. I licked and swallowed until Mrs.
Acker's ran clear juices untainted by my jizz. She uncoiled
herself off my face and said. "Alright you kids, you better jump into the
shower and skedaddle. Mr. Acker will be home from work in about half an
hour, and I want you gone before." She tossed the keys to the handcuffs to
Linda and wandered out of the room. Before she unlocked me, Linda gave me
a long and passionate kiss. We found the shower by ourselves. We kissed
and stroked one another under the refreshing stream of pulsing water. Both
our genitals were extremely sore to the touch, but we couldn't keep our
hands of and out of one another. A loud knock on the shower door woke us
up. "C'mon you guys, chop chop. I'm not kidding, I want you out of here
right now!" We dressed in a rush. Mrs. Acker pushed us toward the door,
clucking. We stood on the front step, suddenly awkward and confused in the
big world, the world that universally condemned what we'd just done. Mrs.
Acker regarded us for a moment and her face softened. "Go home, you two.
Or go somewhere and make love to each other some more. You're so lovely,
and young" She leaned toward Linda and gave her an affectionate peck on the
cheek. Then it was my turn. Mrs. Acker turned her cute face to mine,
raised on her toes, and gave me a full french kiss. She leaned into me and
whispered in my ear, "I'm going to call you soon, and when I ask you to
come to me you come, right Bobby?" "Yes, ma'am." She backed into the house
and closed the door. Linda and I blinked at each other, speechless. My
hand found hers and we began the long walk home.
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