Timmie's Mother Timmie's Lover
by Albert Prang 


PROLOGUE 

Lisa Pilsner is the focal point of this book. A modest matron on the 
surface, Lisa is anything but demure when it comes to sex. like so many 
other women in our society, Lisa has been told that she is supposed to be 
shy of sex, but somehow the message never took. 

Lisa has a husband and son. Both are beautiful men. This does not stop Lisa, 
however, from having someone on the side. 

That person on the side is Tony Mondor. It is Tony who introduces Lisa to 
the pleasures of sex in its more depraved aspects. Before Tony, Lisa must 
cower in terror as he whips her and subjects her to every painful 
humiliation. Lisa learns the pleasure there is in pain as well as most have 
ever learned. Lisa also learns to take Tony's long, sturdy cock in her 
mouth. It is a thrill that stays with her for a long time. 

But the real love in her life turns out to be someone much closer to her. It 
is her own son Timmy, seventeen years old. 

One can only imagine the agony of sexual frustration many mothers endure as 
they see their young sons bud into manhood. By the time this happens, many 
mothers are still yearning for sexual fulfillment, while their husbands 
begin to slow down and not give them all the hot cock that their itching 
passions require. How tempting then must be the sight of their own sons, 
growing into maturity with their sexual equipment sprouting into full 
capacity. 

Lisa is one mother who will not resist the forces of nature within. It is 
for her to discover the sweet taste of incest. As much as she resists, she 
cannot deny herself a grab at the tender meat of her virile son. 

But can Lisa escape punishment for her acts of incest? Can she break so 
strong a societal taboo without feeling the pangs of tormented conscience? 

You will see that Lisa receives more than just mental torment when her 
punishment is meted out by a trio of young boys, eager to take out their 
sexual frustrations on a woman so like their own mothers. 

 CHAPTER ONE 

"MY COCK OR THE COPS 

"No! Please don't tell my husband! Please-please-I beg you...." 

Lisa cowered, tugging the mini-skirt downward over the curve of her thighs, 
locking her legs tightly together. She dared not look up at the imposing 
sight of the man towering over her. She kept her eyes closed, running her 
tongue lightly over her parched lips. Whatever his name was, she held a 
mental image of the ruggedly handsome six-footer with his gaze fixed solidly 
on her. She couldn't erase the dark-haired man with the craggy face from the 
blackboard of her mind. She dared not look up at him-whatever his name was. 
For at that moment, she equated facing him with facing her entire world-a 
world that would soon know exactly what kind of a woman she really was. 

Lisa Pilsner cringed. He was calling her name. She could hear it, but she 
could not respond. His voice ... it was firm, yet surprisingly gentle. She 
held back the tears; certain crying would do her no good. This man-whatever 
his name was-would tell her husband the entire ugly truth. . just as Mrs. 
Anderson had reported that shameful episode to her mother. 

Lisa loosened, slowly running a hand up across the high rise of her 
sweatered breasts, fingers absently playing with the fall of flaming red 
hair. That was so long ago ... she inwardly murmured, wondering why that 
teenaged escapade came to her mind in her present predicament. Lisa realized 
that it had been years since she had given that shameful high school episode 
even a single thought. Now it all raced clearly through her mind, even 
though she still could not comprehend her desire to scrawl that graffiti on 
a toilet wall. No, not graffiti, she now realized. Dirty words. . dirty 
thoughts expressing her inner frustrations. 

Lisa parted her legs slightly, sensing a moistness as she recalled how she 
had excused herself from Miss Anderson's math class to go to the bathroom. 
That youthful impulse ... the fantasy of that well-muscled boy who sat 
across from her ... oh, how quickly she had fingered herself to an orgasm. 

That ugly afterthought ... the self-hate . Suddenly, marker-pen in hand, she 
found herself scrawling the necessary letters on the wall: 

FUCK 

FUCK ME 

PLEASE FUCK ME! 

Lisa opened her eyes to her present, very adult predicament, recalling how 
Miss Anderson had been standing there, the toilet stall door wide open, 
watching her scrawl the last letter of her teenaged frustration on the wall. 
Lisa recalled that pinched look on her teacher's face, the biting of the 
lower lip. And yet, Lisa was now certain that they had taken the time to 
read the declarations together-no matter how silent: FUCK ... FUCK ME ... 
PLEASE FUCK ME! 

"Vile, shameful thoughts! Absolutely disgusting!" Lisa's mother had moaned 
repeatedly. Lisa's father quietly made the arrangements for her to see an 
analyst once a week. Dr. Simon Bruska ... every Tuesday at four ... for 
almost six months. 

How would her husband react? Would John send her to an analyst for six 
months? This is so different, she told herself. 

"It's not the same ... " she muttered aloud, deep in her thoughts. "It's 
just not the same...." 

"What did you say?" he asked, bending slightly over her. 

"I-I'm sorry...." 

"Mrs. Pilsner, this isn't the first time." 

"No, it isn't," Lisa confessed, a smile slowly crossing her face. "No, it 
isn't . . " she absently repeated, her mind focusing on the one word her 
husband would be certain to use. 

Suddenly she saw that certain word scrawled out before her, seemingly under 
those words she had once proclaimed on a bathroom wall: 

KLEPTOMANIA 

"I'm a shoplifter," Lisa shrugged, "a thief...." She forced her eyes 
directly up into his face, now totally aware of the fact that his name was 
Tony Mondor, and that he was the manager of the department store. "I didn't 
mean to do it...." 

Tony eased off, sitting on the edge of his massive desk. She looks so 
pathetic, he thought, this fantastically beautiful woman. "Until now," he 
started, toying with a pencil in his hands, "I've merely put various items 
you've taken on your husband's charge account. But we couldn't let that go 
on forever ... could we?" 

"No, you couldn't," she replied, honestly attempting to face the situation. 
"You've been more than kind to me..." she added, eyes fixed on a 
well-trimmed long sideburn. "I'm not even certain how long I've been doing 
this-or why 

"We've had to crack down-" The store manager shrugged, leaning backward on 
his desk perch. "We have to do something," he added, somewhat 
apologetically. 

"Will you call the police?" she asked, her eyes going over to the 
necklace-the necklace that had been found in her handbag the very moment she 
had exited from Traymore's, the city's most exclusive department store. 

"I should," Tony Mondor tightlipped, suddenly bolting forward to a standing 
position. "The front office has been on my back over our shoplifting 
losses-" 

"But I'll make it good-" 

"That's not the point!" he snapped back, pacing to the side of her. "That's 
not the point at all...." Tony wished that she had not said that, he'd had 
his fill of people like the Pilsners who could always buy their way out. 

"I didn't mean...." Lisa let it trail off, not certain what she had meant. 

"You walked out of this store with a piece of merchandise. You did not 
bother to pay for that merchandise. Mrs. Pilsner, regardless of your 
husband's financial condition, sliced thin or thick-that's stealing!" 

"I know, I know...." 

Lisa's chin remained by her shoulder, her eyes suddenly fixed on a direct 
route to the crotch of his well-tailored dark trousers. She again tugged 
downward on her skirt, feeling powerless to remove her eyes from that very 
specific part of his totally masculine frame. She locked her legs tightly 
together again, fearful of the fantasy game she had commenced: Under those 
pants is underwear-and under the underwear is a cock-a big cock-a real big 
cock and a beautiful set of balls! 

Lisa tore her gaze away from the imagined temple of the phallic symbol, 
certain this ruggedly handsome man had caught her in the act of 
crotch-staring. That little game of hers-she was playing it more and more 
lately. But why now, at a time like this? 

"Mrs. Pilsner-" Tony Mondor shifted his weight from leg to leg. I'd like to 
give you a break, I really would...." 

"Please," she whispered, certain his eyes were fixed on the high rise of her 
breasts. "It won't ever happen again, I promise you that!" 

"Charley," the store manager called out, walking deliberately over to the 
uniformed guard standing by the door. "I won't need you anymore." 

"Whatever you say, Mr. Mondor," the burley guard replied, head tilted 
slightly as he nodded incessantly. "You're the boss." 

Lisa tightened, realizing that she had forgotten about the uniformed guard 
standing at the entrance of Mr. Mondor's private office. She squirmed in her 
chair, recalling how the middle-aged man had placed his sweaty hand on her 
shoulder immediately after she had stepped outside the store's main 
entrance. That smirk on the guard's face, it all seemed so vague now. It 
could not have been more than twenty minutes ago, but it now seemed more 
like twenty years ago. She strained her memory, wondering if anyone she knew 
had actually seen the guard escorting her to the manager's office. 

Lisa watched Tony Mondor close the door behind the uniformed guard. She 
stiffened, certain she had heard the click of a door locking. Her eyes 
remained fixed on the man who appeared to be in his early thirties. She 
hated to admit it to herself, but he was most likely a few years younger 
than she was. And six lifetimes younger than her husband, she bitterly 
reminded herself. 

She was totally aware of his deliberate movements back to where she sat. She 
lowered her line of sight on a direct path to the V of his trousers. She'd 
play the game again, the big fantasy: cock ... big cock . . real big cock . 
She bit her lower lip, aware of that certain moistness within the sheer tip 
of her panties. She rarely ever wore a panty girdle; she was proud of the 
fact that her lithe figure didn't require those cumbersome garments. 

Lisa looked up into that handsome, craggy face. But it seemed so much like 
Miss Anderson looking down at her. She pouted, certain he would scold 
her-just as that spindly-legged high school teacher had scolded her. She had 
been a very bad girl, and she would have to scrub those dirty words off the 
wall. Every last letter: FUCK.. FUCK ME ... PLEASE FUCK ME! 

...No, she told herself. This is different. This man wasn't going to scold 
her for writing dirty thoughts on a bathroom wall. He would scold her 
because she was a sneaking thief. But she didn't have to steal-she knew 
that. Her husband was John Pilsner of THE Pilsners. One of the best 
corporation lawyers in that state-that's what everybody said. "Not the 
same..." 

"Mrs. Pilsner?" The store manager leaned over closer to her. "Are you all 
right? Can I get you a glass of water?" 

"I'm all right, thank you," she replied, looking up at him, just in time to 
observe him exploring the sharp points of her sweatered breasts. "What are 
you going to do about me?" she asked, going right to the heart of the 
matter. And to herself she added: I'm totally at your mercy. Please give me 
a break. 

Tony Mondor studied her up close. He had observed her many times before 
this, but never this close, not so that he was aware of the subtle fragrance 
of her perfume. 

"Class . . real class," he had whispered to himself the first time he had 
observed Lisa Pilsner shopping in the store. That certain "real class" his 
wife lacked-even if her father was the major stockholder in the Traymore 
Department stores throughout the state. He had always enjoyed this woman's 
graceful movements, certain that fantastic figure was real. And those lush 
mounds ... he had convinced himself that this female could be a real credit 
to the Women's Lib braless movement. There was absolutely no need to 
imprison those firm delights, he was certain of that. 

Standing over her, caught up in his game of judge and jury, he imagined 
those brownish-hued tips standing at attention for him and him alone, just 
waiting for the suction of his lips. He could imagine his tongue running 
wild from crest to crest, slithering about in the valley within. Why stop 
there, he asked himself, imagining his tongue running down the flat of her 
stomach, slithering over her panties and sneaking underneath to play hide 
and seek in a bush of flaming red hair. 

Tony Mondor shifted his weight uneasily from foot to foot, counterbalanced 
by the rising bulge between his mind creating that certain thrill, the first 
impact of the tip of his tongue greeting her clit. Tip to tip, then 
round-and-about movements, savoring all of that luscious slit. 

Tony moved sideway, suddenly adjusting his tie. What really needed adjusting 
was the rising bulge at the crotch of his trousers. 

"Mrs. Pilsner," he started again, attempting to be extremely formal and 
business-like. After all, he was judge and jury over this sinner. "You 
realize I should take some form of action-" 

"Please give me a break," she pleaded, eyes downward. "I'd be ever so 
grateful, I'd do anything-" 

Tony shifted the weight of his entire body back toward her, the bulge at his 
crotch refusing to subside. He let that last word of hers splatter about in 
his brain: anything, anything, anything. "Why did you do it?" Tony asked, 
not realizing why he had asked the question. 

"Why?" 

"I just don't seem to know," she whispered in a barely audible tone, 
bringing her line of sight up toward him. "I just don't know," she gasped, 
her eyes now fixed on that bulging sight that did wonders to his trim torso. 
"I just don't seem to know," she shuddered, suddenly equating her 
kleptomania with that earlier desire to scrawl those dirty thoughts on a 
bathroom wall. 

Tony stopped wondering, suddenly realizing why such a female would brazenly 
attempt to steal a medium priced necklace that she could easily afford a 
hundred times over. 

A thrill. 

The subconscious need to break through the everyday humdrum existence. How 
many times had he felt the need to do something wild to break through the 
mold of convention? And being the manager of a Traymore department store was 
quite a conventional mold. And when you work for your father-in-law, that 
conventional mold can actually be a prison. 

Tony Mondor wanted to break through his conventional shackles-just as Lisa 
Pilsner had attempted to accomplish that feat via shoplifting a necklace. 

"Mrs. Pilsner," he started deliberately, hovering over her seated position, 
widening his stance before her. "You were in search of a thrill when you 
tried to steal that necklace." 

"Yes ... I guess so...." 

"You said you'd do anything-" 

"Anything!" she quickly cut in. "Anything...." 

"Anything?" he asked, deliberately placing his hand on the mountainous bulge 
at the crotch of his trousers. "Did you really mean that?" he asked, 
stepping closer to her as he continually rubbed and soothed the mass of his 
totally-ready cock. 

"Yes..." she whispered, wetting her lips. "Yes, I would...., " She 
shuddered, those words on the toilet wall beaming across her mind as though 
in bright neons. 

FUCK ... FUCK ME ... please fuck me! 

"I'll show you something wilder than shoplifting," he tightlipped, taking 
her hand and placing it firmly on the aching mountain at the V of his legs. 
"I'll show you how to really go for broke," he persisted, unzipping his fly. 
"Now get your hand in there and wrap it around my meat, baby!" 

"Yes...." She obeyed him, her eyes traveling over to the plush red couch, 
her hand attempting to cope with that tremendously long, hard and pulsating 
shaft still imprisoned beneath his shorts. "Yes," she repeated, her thoughts 
jumping ahead to her fantastically great penance, actually feeling her bare 
back against the couch's plush leather as he would drive that enormous cock 
in and out of her pussy. "Yes," she repeated, mouthing those words of her 
teenaged proclamation. 

"You can ... I'll let you ... fuck ... fuck me ... please fuck me!" 

"Let's go for bigger and better thrills," he announced, an all too long 
buried sadistic streak emerging from within him. "Something much wilder than 
shoplifting," he smirked down at her. 

"Whatever you say," she whispered, her hand afire with the touch of his long 
reel of cock within his underwear. 

"That's the general idea," he shot back, starting to fully enjoy his tripple 
role of judge, jury and executioner. "I'll call the shots, and see if you 
can live up to your promise of anything." 

"Anything," she nodded, her hand squeezing the majestic hardness of a cock 
that seemed so fantastically bigger and better than that of her husband. 
"Anything at all!" she shrilled, anxious to go beyond scrawling frustrating 
sexual desires on toilet walls and shoplifting in search of the "forbidden 
fruit" thrill. 

"For starters," he nodded, working his hand into flaming red hair and 
tilting her head backward, "take my cock out into the light of day." 

"Yes ... " she whispered, tugging and straining, finally managing to work 
the full length of enormously thick meat out of his shorts and trousers. 
"Oh, yes," she shrilled, watching the ramrod cock standing at attention 
before her. 

"Balls and all!" Tony cried out, widening his stance. "Now be gentle with my 
balls." 

Lisa completed the command, one hand working back and forth on the length of 
throbbing cock, while the other hand tenderly cupped the low-slung scrotum 
containing what she considered to be extremely large balls. "Fuck me as hard 
as you want," she sighed, her eyes anxiously straying over to the leather 
couch. "I've never seen a cock as great as this one, and I can't wait to 
have you fuck me!" 

Tony tightened his grip on her hair, jolting her face forward, lips 
dangerously close to the large head of his cock. "All in good time, baby!" 
he informed her. "But you've got a long way to go first-if you really meant 
anything," he reminded her, bringing her lips less than an inch away from 
the head of his meat. 

"It-it's so big ... I've never done that before 

"There's always a first time," he informed her, roughly placing his hands at 
the back of her head. 

"I'll try...." 

"Believe me," he smirked, "It's a helluva lot more fun than shoplifting. 
"Now give the head of it a big wet kiss for starters." 

"Like this?" Lisa asked, working her lips quickly in a circular motion over 
the throbbing knob. 

"I'll show you how, baby. But first, down on your knees!" 

"Oh, please." 

"Oh, please-shit!" he roared, angrily pulling her off her seated perch and 
down on her knees before the temple of his waiting cock and balls. "I'm 
calling the shots now, Miss Society-broad! Either that-or I call in the 
police and your husband, Miss Kleptomaniac!" 

"No, don't do that, I beg you...." 

"Then start sucking that cock!" 

"Yes-yes. ...." 

"Open your mouth wide ... that's it ... get it right over the head of it ... 
oh, you're doing great ... now careful with the teeth ... go down a little 
more ... you won't choke ... now work that tongue all around it ... oh, go, 
go, go ... yes, that's it ... you'll make a fantastically great cocksucker! 
Oh, yes you will. Eat it, cocksucker!" 

Lisa pistoned her mouth further down the length of the hard shaft. Listening 
to her teacher, she worked her tongue back and forth, slithering 
helter-skelter, each time working her mouth over more and more of that hard 
meat. 

"Oh, take it all, cocksucker! Every last bit of it," he groaned, yanking at 
the back of her head. "Go for broke, cocksucker!" 

Lisa found her mouth traveling the whole route, amazed that the enormous 
length of thick meat could actually fit in her mouth. 

"Oh, that's it, cocksucker!" 

She could not comprehend it, but his crude words of encouragement were doing 
strange things to her. Instinct made her grab at the rear of his muscular 
thighs, improving her position as she worked her mouth steadily back and 
forth. That tremendous head on his cock-she could actually feel it banging 
down the start of her throat each time she slammed her mouth forward to meet 
the thrust of his body. 

"Oh, go, cocksucker!" he roared. "Eat that cock, girl!" 

Lisa found her hands moving up to grasp his buttocks. She enjoyed that 
muscular feel, and without realizing why, she was suddenly working her mouth 
more furiously up and down the trail of hard, throbbing cock. 

"Oh, you fantastic cocksucker! I thought you said you never did this 
before-you're a real pro!" 

Lisa's mouth was too jam-packed with hard cock for her to protest that she 
had never gone down on a cock before. How could she possibly explain that at 
the age of thirty-six, she had never experienced anything but "normal" sex 
with her husband. She was only eighteen when she had married John Pilsner, a 
man who was a decade older than she was. 

"Oh, do it, cocksucker!" 

Lisa went wild, unable to understand the supreme thrill of being called a 
cocksucker. Working her mouth furiously up and down, she somehow related 
this bizarre turn in her life with scrawling dirty words on toilet walls and 
shoplifting. Something-anything-to break out of the humdrum pattern of 
everyday life. 

"Oh, I'm coming, cocksucker, I'm coming! Oh, swallow my love-juices, little 
Miss Cocksucker 

Lisa swallowed, feeling her own live-juice flowing freely at the V of her 
thighs. This is wild, she thought. That morning, if anyone had told her that 
this day would be so different from all the others-that she would actually 
be swallowing a man's love juice-she would never have believed it. That 
morning, having breakfast with John and Timmy. 

Her son Timmy ... that enormous, strange tasting cock still in her mouth, 
her thoughts suddenly went totally to her seventeen year old son. She 
clamped her mouth firmly on the now semi-hard cock, recalling the image of 
her handsome boy stepping out of the shower. 

Timmy ... she didn't want to take Tony Mondor's cock out of the warmth of 
her mouth-she didn't want to erase the beautiful image of her nude son from 
the blackboard of her mind. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

STUD SON 

"Timmy?" 

"I'm in the shower, Mom! I'll be right out!" 

Lisa slowly moved into the very special disarray of the boy's room, t had 
all the earmarks of three years of high school. At the edge of his bed she 
scooped up his track shorts. Beneath them, her eyes instantly went to the 
jock strap. She picked up the flimsy stretch garment, instantly fingering 
the empty pouch. 

"That would be a real thrill..." she inwardly murmured, her mind drawing a 
mental image of the pouch jam-packed with her son's young cock and balls. 
She wet her lips, realizing this wasn't the first time she'd had such a 
thought about her own son. She brought the empty pouch to her lips, brazenly 
kissing the material, telling herself that this was the first time she had 
been honest enough to admit this very certain feeling she had for her 
handsome and rapidly developing teenaged son. 

"There's a word for it," she whispered to herself in a frightened tone. She 
let the jock strap fall on the boy's bed, the image of the boy's cock and 
balls still parading before her. 

"But he's such a handsome boy..." she shuddered, slowly seating herself on 
the edge of the bed. "And so much mine ... mine ... he's so close to me." 
Lisa worked her hands down her thighs, slowly bringing them back up along 
the inner reaches leading to the V of her legs. Her eyes fixed on the 
bathroom door, her ears tuned in to the running shower water, she worked her 
hands underneath her skirt. She hesitated, then with a "why not?" shrug, 
sneaked fingers in underneath her panties and into the moistness of her 
pussy. Working inwardly, she pistoned fingers in and out of the only part of 
her body that Tony Mondor had denied that afternoon. 

That afternoon ... Lisa stopped the motion of her fingers within the warmth 
of her vagina. Eyes fixed on the bathroom door, the sound of the running 
shower water now thunderous to her ears, she toyed with the very special 
thrill of having her son actually watching the sexual spree that had been 
spent upon her that afternoon. Of course, somewhere along the way, her son 
could join in the action, allowing her to work all the harder to satisfy 
handsome man and beautifully handsome boy. 

Lisa jabbed her fingers deeper into her flaming red-haired slit. The one 
part of her body that had been denied by Tony Mondor. Lisa recalled his 
exact words: "I'll fuck your pussy some other time. When you're all paid up 
for being a bad girl and trying to shoplift a necklace. When we're even-then 
if you still want a straight fucking some time, just give me a call, baby. 
I'll be only too happy to oblige you!" 

Lisa let out a low guttural sound as she recalled exactly what Tony Mondor 
had been doing to her as he had proclaimed those words. Purposely, she 
removed her fingers from her snatch and ran them down to the crack of her 
ass. A very sore ass from that enormous cock that had so expertly thundered 
it. Tony had called her a liar. His precise words were: "A cocksucking, 
up-the-ass fuckin' liar!" He had draped her over his desk, ordering her to 
widen her legs and throw her rear end upward, buttocks spread wide apart. 
Roughly, he had worked first one finger, and then two up the crack of her 
ass. "Nice'n tight ... " he had murmured. "I like to fuck a tight ass-hole." 
He had instructed her to remain loose as he had positioned the enormous head 
of his throbbing meat at the start of her anus. She had thought she would 
pass out as the large head actually entered her crack. He had eased up, 
soothing her with words of encouragement. Then it commenced; the gradual 
working of that cock that seemed to be a foot long up her ass-hole. 

"It's in!" he had proclaimed. "Every fuckin' last bit of it-right up your 
society ass-hole, baby! And now we go for broke! You're gonna get the 
wildest ass-fuckin' ever, baby! The wildest ever!" 

Tony Mondor had lived up to every bit of his boast, flooding the crack of 
her ass with his thick love juice. Lisa had been amazed at how fast he could 
pump another load of semen into her anus, after he had flooded her mouth 
with that seemed to be gallons of the thick fluid. 

Lisa's eyes remained fixed on the bathroom door, realizing the current of 
shower water had been turned off. Now her handsome son would be drying that 
tall, lithe body of his with that dangling piece of meat and low-slung 
balls. She hungrily ran her tongue about her lips, over and over again. 

Her tongue ... Lisa swayed her head negatively, still not believing that her 
tongue had actually been up the crack of Tony Mondor's ass. She now 
shuddered, pulling her hands away from her snatch and ass-hole. She tugged 
down on her skirt, squirming about as she did. She still could not convince 
herself that it had actually happened-that the very tip of her tongue had 
actually jabbed so deep within that muscular man's ass-hole, seemingly in 
search of shit. He had forced her to do it, she told herself. She recalled 
those crude words: "Eat it out, baby! Eat my ass-hole, society-broad. 

C'mon, get that tongue all the way up there! It's the greatest taste ever!" 

Until that moment when she was engulfed in it, analingus was an extremely 
far-off scientific term. Certainly this supposedly perverse oral practice 
had nothing to do with her and her straight-and-narrow small town 
upbringing. 

"Eat ass-hole, baby!" Tony Mondor had continually cried out, keeping her 
face shoved up between his buttocks. "Eat it right out, shit and all! 'Cause 
baby, you've got a real educated tongue!" 

"No ... no..." she now shuddered, realizing her son would soon emerge from 
the bathroom, hopefully with only a bath towel draped about his muscular 
midsection. "No...." she repeated, angry that Tony Mondor had not believed 
her, that she had never used her mouth, lips and tongue in so many sexually 
perverse ways before that afternoon. "Never...." she inwardly shuddered. 
"Never-never." 

Lisa stopped short, tugging downward on her skirt, edging forward until she 
was perched on the very edge of the bed. A moment of truth hit her smack in 
the face. In reality, she had never used her mouth in so many wild sexual 
ventures before today. But in her fantasies she had experienced every 
conceivable oral pleasure from the time she was a teenaged girl. Lisa was 
forced to admit that even while experiencing normal vaginal intercourse with 
her husband, she had fantasied oral pleasures with various handsome men she 
had noticed at one time or 

"And boys..." she whispered to herself. "Young boys ... " she truthfully 
added, recalling a number of Timmy's young friends who had caught her eye 
over the past few years. Especially in the summer with their skintight 
cutoff trousers and shorts ... those beautiful bulges of young meat. 

"Why..." Lisa suddenly asked herself. Why had she never done anything about 
it? Why had she remained faithful to her husband's routine sex life and an 
occasional spree of masturbation? Sitting there on the edge of her son's 
bed, she realized that over the past few years, these sexual urges had been 
growing stronger and stronger within her. The past few years ... 
approximately the same time she had started her shoplifting sprees ... 
strictly for the thrill of it. Lisa bit her lower lip, for the first time, 
realizing how grateful she was that she had been caught in the act. Tony 
Mondor had imposed the sentence upon her; she had served it well. 

"Hey, Mom-" Timmy called out, suddenly stopping short to adjust the bath 
towel draped over his lithe midsection. "I didn't know you were waiting for 
me all this time. What's the matter?" 

"Nothing's the matter," she smiled, working her eyes up and down his slim 
body. Her son was great at basketball and track, but lacked the weight for 
football. She especially enjoyed the taut stomach muscles, that line where 
his suntan stopped slightly below his navel. 

"Is something wrong, Mom?" 

"No ... no..." she gulped, eyes fixed on the long outline of cock underneath 
the towel. "No, son...." 

"The way you're looking at me...." 

"You're growing up, Timmy. You're developing into a fine young man." 

"Maybe I should get some clothes on-" 

"Sit over here, Timmy, beside me. I want to talk to you." 

"What's the matter, Mom?" 

"Why should anything be the matter, Timmy? I'd just like to know how things 
are going with you. What's the hip expression-let's rap a while." 

"Yeah, sure," Timmy smiled, uneasily sitting on the edge of his bed, a 
slight distance away from her. "Why don't you go to the basketball game 
tonight, Mom?" he asked, tugging downward on the moist bath towel that 
highlighted his newly developed manhood. 

"Dad's got a business meeting and can't make it," he added, as though this 
was par for the course, totally to be expected of his father. "Will you come 
to the game, Mom?" 

"I might just do that, Timmy," she smiled. "It might do me a world of good 
to watch my star in action," she added, eyes going directly to the outlined 
bulge of cock and balls. 

"Hey, Uncle Damn's going to the game, Mom! Maybe you could go with him? I 
could call-" Timmy added, starting to rise. 

"I'll call him myself," Lisa cut in, taking her son's wrist and urging him 
to remain seated. "I'll call Darrin," she added, suddenly uneasy as she 
couldn't remove her eyes from that fantastic bulge of young meat. "It's 
starting to get hard ... she told herself, watching it seemingly breathe and 
grow underneath that very lucky bath towel. 

"Mom, you sure everything's okay ... you're acting kinda different 

"Timmy..." she ran a hand through the thickness of the dark hair that 
flopped over his eyes. "You're getting to look more and more like your Uncle 
Darrin," she smiled, still working a hand through his shower-wet hair. 

"Even with my hair too long-like a girl's," he shrugged, absently spreading 
his thighs apart, the bath towel rising slightly up to the start of his 
low-slung balls. 

"That's what your father said, Timmy. And I can't openly go against him. But 
between us, I think you look just great with your hair at that length." 

"And I don't look like a girl?" he questioned, obviously angered by what his 
father had said. 

"Your father just doesn't seem to understand these things-" 

"That is the understatement of the year!" Timmy whistled, moving in closer 
to his mother. 

"Timmy, it's the way he was brought up. He can't seem to understand that the 
length of a boy's hair has absolutely nothing to do with his masculinity," 
she shrugged, suddenly ever so aware of his special brand of masculinity 
bulging up at her underneath the towel. "You're getting to be a real man, 
Timmy, a real, fine young man...." 

"Then I guess I shouldn't be running around half-naked," he blushed, tugging 
downward on the towel as he brought his thighs back together. 

"Remember me," she playfully poked him in the navel. "I'm the gal who used 
to change your diapers. And I remember only too well that until the day you 
started kindergarten you always swore up and down that when you grew up you 
were going to marry your Mommy!" 

"So I did," he chuckled, "so I did." 

"But now you've got too many other girlfriends," she playacted her jealousy. 
"And you don't even have an occasional little kiss for your very first 
sweetheart." 

"I guess I can arrange that," he replied, playacting generosity. "One kiss 
coming up," he added, leaning over and planting a kiss on her cheek. 

"Oh, you're still my favorite boy," she shot back, warmly placing both of 
her hands on his face. "Sometimes it's so painful for me to watch you grow 
up, knowing that someday I'll lose you." 

"No you won't, Mom, not really...." 

"Oh, I can see all those pretty young girls moving in for the kill. It won't 
be long-" 

"I'll let you in on a secret, Mom," he sighed, backing away from the touch 
of her hands. "I'm not one-tenth the lady-killer you seem to think I am. In 
fact..." Timmy faltered, looking slightly away from her. 

"What's the matter, Timmy?" she asked, taking his hand in hers, pressing it 
firmly. "You can talk to me. I think I'm capable of understanding most 
everything." She waited, pressing his hand more firmly in hers. Suddenly she 
realized that the back of her hands was resting precariously close to that 
fantastic bulge of young meat curtained off by the bath towel. "I want so 
much to help you," she finally managed to utter. "However I can," she 
flustered, the back of her hand now brushing the living, breathing, 
throbbing bulge at the V of his thighs. "Try me, Timmy...." 

"It's not that easy, Mom," the boy flustered, "I guess it's what a kid 
usually talks about with his father...." He hesitated, biting his lower lip. 
"But with Dad, any talk about sex is dirty-I mean, I get that impression." 

"Timmy, what you're trying to say," Lisa started, bringing a hand warmly 
back to his face. "Is it that certain things about girls frighten you?" 

"Yeah, it's something like that," he replied, responding to the warmth of 
her hand on his face. "You know, after I get too involved with a girl, when 
things seem to be getting out of control...." 

"Yes, Timmy?" 

"I get scared!" 

"That's understandable at your age," she softly countered, bringing the back 
of her hand down more firmly on the rising bulge of towel-covered equipment. 

"This isn't something you talk about with your own Mom," Timmy flustered, 
trying to back off, but seemingly unable to do so. "What I mean is-" 

"Timmy, I know there's no real communication between you and your father. 

So maybe this isn't so far out. We've always been close, haven't we?" she 
asked, her hand growing bolder in the vicinity of his crotch. "We've had to 
be close, Timmy ... because you're father has always been so distant and-and 
cold. Timmy ... even to me." she announced, her hand boldly taking stock of 
the situation. "We've always been extra close...." 

"Yeah, sure, Mom," Timmy was now sweating, his young cock hardening 
instantly. "I could always talk to you, when I couldn't talk with Dad." 

"Timmy, people feel things ... regardless of so-called conventional ... " 
Her hand brazened it out, moving underneath the towel, fingers instantly 
sensing the pulsating growth of his eager young cock. "Timmy?" she 
questioned, moving her lips close to his face. "You haven't gone all the way 
with a girl yet? Have you?" 

"No, Mom, honest I haven't. Oh, I've wanted to! But I always seem to chicken 
out! What I mean is-I get scared-" Timmy was now stubbing his toe into the 
rug. "Wow, Mom! I know I shoudln't-but I'm getting real excited!" 

"You and I, Timmy..." she shuddered, working her hand more firmly around the 
long length of hard cock. "You and I," she repeated, suddenly realizing that 
her teenaged son's cock was almost as long as Tony Mondor's, even though it 
couldn't possibly be as thick as his. "We're forever left alone ... just the 
two of us in this big house ... while your father always seems so content to 
be away from us, deep in his business...." She moved her lips extremely 
close to his chin, her hand tightening on the eager young cock. "Maybe this 
is a very special case, maybe it's only right that you learn what it's like 
to really have a girl from me. Timmy?" she questioned, flicking a few quick 
kisses about his chin and down to the soft of his neck. "Do you understand 
what I'm trying to tell you?" 

Yeah, I think so, Mom," he whispered hoarsely, stretching his thighs apart, 
letting the towel ride recklessly upward. "I've been feeling strange 
vibrations lately, whenever you look at me. like the other day, when you 
noticed me stepping out of the shower. I mean, later on that night I got so 
excited that I started ... " Timmy let it trail off, his eyes going down to 
the curvy richness of her thighs. So beautifully developed, he thought, so 
much more class than the high school girls he had necked and petted with so 
far in his basically inexperienced life. 

"I've had feelings too, Timmy," she confessed, tugging fingers at the knot 
in the towel. "I just haven't been able to keep them in check-" She gasped 
audibly, watching the knot loosen, the towel parting to reveal his youthful 
midsection, that slim, hard cock bobbing instantly up to attention. "Oh, 
Timmy, it's so beautiful!" she cried out, instantly recapturing the phallus 
in her hand. "Oh, so delightful..." she moaned, cupping his low-slung balls 
with her other hand. 

"Wow, Mom I feel real ashamed-but still I know I'm real crazy about being 
with you like this," he flustered. His mind churned wildly, realizing that 
on a number of occasions while "making out" with various dates, slipping his 
hands underneath girls' panties, he had often thought of his mother; 
especially those treasured glimpses he had stolen of her in a sheer 
negligee. "You're real beautiful," he shuddered, a hand going down nervously 
to her thigh. "A real young-looking!" 

"You've really never had a girl?" she asked again, hands feverishly 
caressing his slim cock and low-slung balls. "I mean, all the way? Real 
sex?" 

"No, Mom, honest. I mean, I've come real close-until I thought I'd explode!" 

"My little darling," she beamed, flicking kisses at the soft of his neck. 
"Our lives are so different ... we have a right ... we do have a right, and 
I just can't fight it any longer, Timmy darling. I want to be your very 
first," she announced. "If you want me-" 

"Wow! Yeah! I mean...." 

Lisa demonstrated what she meant, moving her lips fully over his, pressing 
downward, her mouth instantly opening, her tongue darting furiously about to 
entwine his. Her mouth pressing his, one hand remained faithfully on his 
long ramrod of hot young meat, while the other hand departed from his balls 
to explore the mystery of his firm young ass-hole. She played a finger 
gently up and down the crack of his ass, feeling the new hairs there. 

She thought of how her tongue had worked up and down the crack of Tony 
Mondor's ass-hole. She recalled even more vividly how her mouth had hungrily 
slobbered up and down the length of Tony's cock. Down on her knees, 
seemingly in worship of male cock and ass-hole. Timmy's long, slim cock and 
young ass-hole ... her mouth, lips and tongue wanted desperately to savor 
the young maleness. 

No ... she told herself, not with Timmy. She could not send the boy into 
shock. Slow and easy, she told herself, her lips still pressed to his, her 
tongue still twining his. She was then aware of the moistness at the start 
of her pussy. Her pussy-the only part of her sexual anatomy not worked over 
by Tony Mondor's sadistic pleasure streak that afternoon. Her pussy ... she 
would gladly offer it to her son for his first pleasure. 

"Timmy," she whispered, finally prying her lips away from his. "Don't be 
afraid . . I want ever so much to be your first real experience," she 
announced, slowly swaying to her feet, her hand going directly to the long 
zipper at the side of her skirt. "Do you understand?" 

"Yeah, I do," he moaned, watching the skirt fall to the floor. "Oh, yeah, 
wow!" he exclaimed, watching his mother proudly stepping out of the skirt, 
standing there in her sheer panties. "Oh, wow!" he repeated, wondering what 
her bare breasts would look like. "Please take everything off, Mom? Please?" 

"Timmy," she called out, stretching her hands out to him. "You're a big boy 
now. Stand up and do it yourself." 

"What?" 

"I'd be ever so proud to have you finish undressing me," she shuddered, 
suddenly feeling the need to discover new, bigger and better thrills. 
"Please undress me, Timmy," she urged him, feeling much the same sensation 
whenever she had shoplifted a certain item under extremely dangerous 
conditions. "Please finish undressing me," she whispered hoarsely, wondering 
what the odds might be of her husband coming home and walking in on them. Or 
even the maid downstairs. Danger ... it added to the thrill of it all. 

"Wow, this is outa sight!" Timmy shrilled, rising on wobbly feet, his hands 
instantly unbuttoning her blouse. "Oh, wow," he groaned, watching her 
bra-imprisoned breasts coming into sight. 

"Just let it fall to the floor," she whispered, arching her shoulders as the 
blouse was peeled off her curvy frame. "Now undo the clasp of my bra-don't 
be frightened," she whispered, feeling the hardness of his eager young cock 
brushing up against the sheerness of her panties. "Hurry, hurry, 
Timmy-darling!" 

"Oh, wow!" he repeated, the clasp undone, her lush mounds heaving into sight 
before his eyes. "They're beautiful." he announced, watching her wiggle out 
of the bra, having the brownish-hued tips stand at attention for her son's 
inspection. 

"Are they really beautiful?" she asked. 

"Oh, yes," he replied, slowly bringing his trembling hands to explore the 
lushness. They feel so smooth and velvety...." 

"Bring your lips down on them, Timmy. Right on the tips ... first one, and 
then the other ... like a Mommy's good little boy...." 

Timmy obeyed, moaning and groaning his pleasure. "Wow, Mom, at this rate, I 
won't be able to hold out much longer-if you know what I mean!" 

"Yes, my little darling," she smiled, a hand gently caressing his full 
length of hard cock. "I know only too well what you mean. So why don't you 
slip my panties off. Please?" 

"It's so beautiful," he whispered, obeying her, bringing the panties down to 
her feet. "Oh, so beautiful ... real outa sight!" he proclaimed, watching 
her regally step out of the final sheer garment. 

"Come here with me," she whispered, leading him over to the bed. "Now try to 
stay calm," she instructed him as she arched her back on the bed, spreading 
her legs widly apart. "Now let me guide that eager young cock of yours right 
up to the start of my slit." 

"That beautiful red hair all around it!" Timmy exclaimed, feeling her guide 
the head of his cock up into the moist start of her slit. "Oh, that feels 
great! like I always imagined it would!" 

"Easy does it, Timmy-darling. That's it, get right over me ... oh, 
wonderful, my darling little boy ... that's it ... now work your long hard 
cock all the way in ... don't worry ... you won't hurt me-oh, yes, my 
darling little boy! That's it! That's it! Oh, don't stop! Don't ever stop!" 
Lisa gyrated her hips up to meet her young son's cock, knowing that there 
was no turning back for her in her never-ending quest for kicks-kicks-kicks 
... new thrills, a new thrill a day-or maybe more. 

"Oh, Mom!" Tim roared, working his cock furiously up and down, his young 
hands eagerly grabbing and clawing to get at the delightful mounds of her 
ass. "Oh, like-wow, Mom!" 

Lisa gyrated her approval. She gyrated wildly to proclaim to one and all 
that she had finally managed to break through her humdrum conventional life 
style. She suddenly had an urge to openly proclaim this newly discovered 
freedom: 

"Fuck me, Son! Fuck me!" 

 CHAPTER THREE A PENETRATING GIFT 

Tony Mondor hated Thursday nights. Every Thursday night of the year held 
that one special horror for him: dinner at his father's-in-law. That pompous 
bastard seated at the almighty head of the table, that same old tired 
"rags-to-riches" story of how he had struggled to open up his first 
department store. 

Tony sipped his coffee, wondering how he had actually endured another dinner 
like this one without exploding at that fat, little man at the head of the 
table-Clarence Traymore. As usual, Tony's wife Betty had kicked him 
underneath the table at least a half dozen times to remind him to either 
laugh, smile or say thank you on cue. Tony set his cup back on the saucer, 
nodding negatively to the new maid serving dessert. Old Man Traymore was 
talking incessantly, but Tony had long ago discovered a way of appearing 
interested while really not listening at all. Once again, Tony reminded 
himself to bide his time. His plans were going well, and it wouldn't be long 
before he would be moving up damned close to the top in the Traymore chain 
of department stores. It wouldn't be long, Tony told himself, glancing 
sideways to again remind himself that Betty was putting on too damned much 
weight. It wouldn't be long, Tony echoed within himself, that the pompous 
old bastard at the head of the table would be squeezed out of control, and 
the "new group" of stockholders would take over. Then Tony wouldn't be stuck 
managing a branch store. The "new group" would shove him right upstairs in 
the main office. Bide your time, he reminded himself, realizing the new 
group had to acquire at least another eight per cent of the stock before 
they could call a board meeting and push the Old Man out. 

Tony felt his wife nudging him under the table. He looked up, watched the 
group laughing heartily at one of Old Man Traymore's little jokes. With a 
"why not?" shrug, Tony forced a little laugh. After all, he wouldn't have to 
laugh at the Old Man's jokes much longer. 

But this restlessness-he had to curb it. His restlessness could defeat all 
his well-laid plans to make it all the way up to the top. While Tony 
continually had to listen to the Old Man's "rags-to-riches" story, he buried 
deep within himself his resentment of the tough way up from stock clerk to 
store manager. Tony's resentment was due in large part to the fact that he 
had to marry one of the boss's daughters to accomplish this feat-a feat he 
could just as easily have managed on his own ability. But the world would 
soon know that-just as soon as Tony and "the new group" took over control of 
the Traymore department store chain. And that would only be a stepping 
stone. Then Tony would show the whole damned world what merchandising was 
really all about. 

Another little joke, Tony told himself, hearing the forced laughter about 
the table. Tony managed a slight smile and pretended laughter before his 
wife could once again nudge him under the table. 

Tony glanced to his left, then quickly scanned the dinner table. Everyone 
being ever so polite to one another. He wondered if they really knew what he 
thought about them all. He started with his wife on his left. 

Betty, Betty, Betty-you're putting much too much weight on. And all in the 
wrong places. Also, dear Betty, he went on to himself, you're getting to be 
a real lousy lay. Much too routine, Betty. 

Tony took the time to examine his wife. He had always enjoyed the sight of 
her strawberry blonde hair falling ever so naturally down her shoulders. But 
lately she always wore it up in a tight bun. He noticed lines in her 
basically beautiful face. Lines that should not be on the face of a woman 
still in her twenties. And that once fantastic figure-fat was developing in 
all the wrong places. Sex with 

Betty was getting to be a tired, old routine-pretty much like dinner at the 
Traymores every Thursday evening. Tony had always had a need to be vocal 
during sex. Whatever he enjoyed-he had to express accordingly. And not 
exactly in scientific terms. That afternoon in his office, he had not 
informed Lisa Pilsner that she was a "competent fellatrix." Over and over 
again, he had truthfully exclaimed, "You're a fantastic cocksucker!" Tony's 
mind went back to that first year of marriage. He clearly recalled Betty's 
displeasure when during sex Tony had groaned: "Oh, Betty darling, I could 
fuck you all night and all day!" Vulgar, his wife had termed it. Honest, 
Tony had decided. But from then on, he had always kept his sexual thoughts 
to himself. Except on those rare occasions when he had paid a prostitute to 
give vent to all his frustrations. Tony appreciated the basic honesty of 
prostitutes. Everything was always so well laid out in advance. Before he 
ever took a hooker to a motel room he would spell it right out: I don't mind 
giving you a few extra dollars, but I've got to get my cock sucked, and I 
dig dirty talk. Yes or no, baby-don't waste my time! 

Tony moved his gaze on from his wife to his sister-in-law Marge and her 
husband Tom. To Tony, Marge, a few years older than Betty, was always a 
royal pain in the ass. And those two precocious youngsters of hers always 
bugged him. He didn't seem to mind Tom. In fact, he could actually enjoy an 
occasional conversation with his brother-in-law who also managed one of the 
Traymore stores. But Tony was certain of one thing. He wouldn't trust Tom 
with any of his plans to push the Old Man out of control. Tom was much too 
henpecked to suit Tony. A man like that couldn't be trusted to help push the 
old man into retirement. 

Tony continued his visual trip around the table, biting his lip as he took 
in the bulky mess that was Clarence Traymore. Next to him, silent as usual, 
was his ever-faithful wife, Lenore. Still in her fifties, Lenore had no 
doubt retired from the sexual arena. Tony could almost determine this fact 
of life by examining that certain look on his mother-in-law's face. This 
woman was much too engrossed in her afternoon teas and charities-sublimation 
after sublimation. 

Tony worked his glance back at Old Man Traymore, forcing back a smile. Tony 
knew only too well that the old man had not retired from the sexual arena. 
Tony knew most specifically of a number of young chicks the Old Man hired 
for his fun and games. If the Old Man's wife only knew-Tony shrugged to 
himself. If Lenore only knew the really wild and perverse sex routines the 
Old Man went for with those young, teenaged hookers. Tony and the "new 
group" had it all documented-you never know when such material might come in 
handy. 

Before moving his gaze around the table, Tony hesitated, wondering what one 
certain sex kick the Old Man dug might really be like. Tony tried to imagine 
what it might be like to have a young girl squatting over your face and 
actually urinating on your face. Tony caught hold of himself, realizing that 
he was guilty of the scientific mumbo-jumbo. Tell it like it is, he told 
himself-to have a girl piss in your mouth. 

Tony's next inspection was of Clarence Traymore, Jr. Junior ... even in his 
old age, he would still be called Junior. Tony was amazed that nobody at 
that table realized what he knew to be a fact about the seemingly bright 
twenty-one year old college Junior. Dear Junior did not dig the opposite 
sex. Dear Junior had a very special male lover at college, and was firmly 
entrenched in the "Gay life." 

Tony shrugged it off-different strokes for different folks, he reminded 
himself. The fact was that he liked Junior as a person. Junior had all the 
decent qualities that his old man lacked. Junior had always been much closer 
to his mother than to his father. Some of Lenore's finer qualities just had 
to rub off on the boy-even at the expense of turning him Gay. 

Tony moved his gaze from Junior to Tricia, smiling at the twelve year old 
girl. Dear "Baby-Tricia"-Old Man Traymore's pride and joy, his wife's 
change-of-life baby. Two days to go, and "Baby-Tricia" would officially be a 
teenager. Tony studied the young girl, totally amazed at the physical 
transformation he had been witnessing during the past few months. Maybe she 
would officially be a teenager in a matter of two days, but for the past few 
months, she possessed all the attributes of young womanhood. Tricia had that 
long natural strawberry blonde hair. She had a warm, sensitive face-and that 
certain smile-to Tony it already seemed to convey a sexual invitation. Tony 
fixed his sight line directly on those small but perfectly formed breasts. 
He was certain those ripening young mounds were pressing hard against her 
training bra. 

Tony's thoughts went back a few months-that summer, watching the budding 
girl in her skintight little bikini-that very special indentation of young 
pussy-Tony's thoughts returned to the present. He realized that before 
dinner, seated in the living room, he had concentrated fully on the girl's 
exposed thighs. It seemed as though Tricia had purposely hiked her 
mini-skirt up, knowing that he was seated directly across from her. Tony 
recalled that perfect young V of her panty-covered snatch. He wet his lips, 
wondering how tasty that young cunt might be. She's just about ready, Tony 
told himself, playing out a fantasy of lifting her young, lithe legs 
skyward, tugging her little panties off and getting his mouth right down on 
that delightful young snatch. Maybe she wasn't quite ready to take his thick 
nine inches of cock, but he could damned sure work the tip of his tongue 
delightfully about that sensitive little clitoris. 

Tony felt his cock hardening, certain that "Baby-Tricia" was now pressing 
her knee against his. He watched her slouched down, just enough to be able 
to touch his knee with hers. 

Oh, that cock-teasing little smile. Tony was certain that he recognized it. 
Tony returned to his delightful fantasy of eating that young pussy, 
imagining his hands grabbing at her young ass. For a brief moment he closed 
his eyes, wondering what it might be like to taste the crack of her ass, to 
get his tongue all the way up her young shit-trail. 

"Tricia-baby!" Old Man Traymore called out. "Sit up like the pretty young 
lady you're supposed to be," he coughed. "Don't slouch down like that." 

"Yes, Daddy," the girl beamed, sitting up in her chair, her eyes seemingly 
telling Tony it was fun while it lasted. 

Tony could not control the hardening of his cock, realizing that lately, 
practically every 

Thursday night, he had been obsessed with the sight of Tricia's constantly 
hiked-up skirt and the slyly exposed V of her little panties. When she was 
younger, it seemed such a natural thing, but now it was as though she was 
purposely displaying her young wares for him. 

Catch hold of yourself, Tony warned himself, smug with the thought that the 
Old Man couldn't read his mind and especially not the fantasy of eating his 
precious little Baby-Tricia's pussy. 

Tony watched the Old Man talking, bragging incessantly about the big game 
hunting trip he had just made. The words were running on as Tony's thoughts 
went back to that very eventful afternoon. 

Lisa Pilsner. His mind recreated that fantastic scene in his office-what a 
guy always dreams about, but never seems to actually happen. Well, it had 
happened that afternoon. A fantastic afternoon of thrills. Oh, Lisa, Lisa, 
you fantastic cocksucker. He'd be seeing more of her, he felt certain of 
that. They both had a common need-thrills, bigger and better thrills. They 
had not actually discussed it; it wasn't necessary. Two people have that 
certain way of knowing when they're on a similar life style path. 

And what a beautiful bonus, Tony smugly reminded himself. Lisa's signature 
on a confession of shoplifting. Tony recalled how smoothly he had tricked 
her into thinking she was signing a charge order, to put the necklace on her 
account. "'That would settle everything," lie had informed her. If she had 
merely forgotten to have it charged to her account-all a misunderstanding. 

Tony experienced one slight pang of conscience. He did not want to hurt 
Lisa, but what a fantastically great potential insurance policy. Tony knew 
only too well the power of Lisa's husband-Old Man Traymore's special 
corporation attorney. That little piece of paper was in a safe place; Tony 
hoped that he would never have to use it. 

"Daddy?" Tricia called out, pulling Tony out of his thoughts, bringing his 
sight line back on a par with those budding young breasts across from him. 
'Can I be excused from the table?" 

"Only if my baby-Tricia gives her Daddy a bin hug and a kiss!" the old man 
shrilled, putting his hands out to his favorite young daughter. 'Pretty soon 
you'll be so grownup and won't have time for your old Daddy," Clarence 
Traymore played out his being hurt. 

'Oh. Daddy, don't be silly!" the girl shrilled, throwing her arms wildly 
about the rotund man and planting a kiss on his cheek. 

"'What will you always be?" he asked. 

"Hurry, hurry, tell your old Daddy!" he played a little game, quickly 
kissing her chin a number of times. 

"Daddy's little girl!" Tricia proclaimed, as she had done so many times 
before this. "Forever'n ever!" she added, planting another kiss on his 
forehead. 

"Oh, that's my precious little baby-Tricia!" he exclaimed, hugging her 
warmly, the side of his arm obviously brushing up against her tightly 
sweatered young breasts. "The day after tomorrow we're gonna throw the 
wildest birthday party ever for my little baby-aren't we, honey?" 

"Yes, Daddy, we sure are!" 

"Over forty children have been invited," Lenore Traymore shrugged, "they'll 
wreck the house for sure." 

"My little baby will be a teenager!" Clarence Traymore proclaimed, the back 
of his arm still gliding back and forth on those jutting hills. 'Now go, do 
whatever you've got to do, precious baby," he beamed, playfully smacking her 
behind. 'On the telephone with your girlfriends, I suppose-and probably 
already talking about boys!" 

"Oh Daddy!" Tricia moaned, wiggling out of his reach. "It's just girl talk-" 

Tony watched Tricia literally bounce out of the room. That little ass of 
hers, he had never realized how beautifully it was developing. He ran the 
tip of his tongue over his parched bps, thinking how nice it would be to 
give "baby-Tricia" an extra-special thirteenth birthday present-a trip 
around the world. He'd start with her toes, work up those slim, curvy legs, 
right up to that young snatch with the hair just starting to bush. He'd 
tongue that little clit like crazy, every so often working his tongue out to 
taste the crack of her ass. 

"Tony-" his wife was nudging him. She had that certain way of pulling at his 
arm to get his attention. "Didn't you hear Daddy? He just called your name, 
but you seem so far off." 

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," Tony beamed, smug with his secret thoughts of and for 
baby-Tricia. 'What were you saying?" 

"Well, glad to see you're with us, Tony! I just wanted to know how things 
have been at your store. I haven't talked to you all week long." 

"Oh, going along fine," Tony shrugged. "All the Christmas orders have been 
filled, and we-" 

"Now let's not have any shop talk," Lenore Traymore cut in. "You men have 
all day long for that." 

"Let's go in the study," Clarence informed his captive audience. "I'm just 
dying to show you the movies I took up North. 

"That was really a ferocious-looking bear you bagged!" Tony's brother-in-law 
Tom beamed, obviously getting in a few brownie points with the old man. 

"Wasn't it a beauty!" Betty chimed in. "And Daddy, the way you managed to 
hit it right in the heart!" She nudged Tony. "Wasn't that fantastic, honey?" 

"Yeah, sure." Tony watched Junior slip away, sneaking toward the foyer. 
Probably can't wait to get back to his gay lover, Tony smugly told himself. 

"Well, let's go to the study," Clarence called out again. "I've already got 
the projector set up." 

Tony had had it with home movies, but there would be no escaping this 
filming of the Old Man's latest hunting trip. He felt Betty place her hand 
on his as they all started to rise. like sheep, they would all follow that 
chubby old man to his study, and show their emotions on cue as he ran his 
latest film of his outdoor prowess. 

"I'll be right with you," Tony held back. "I've go to make an important 
call-security at the store." 

"Business before pleasure," Old Man Traymore beamed at his son-in-law. "Why 
don't you use the phone in my den?" 

"Thank you, Sir." 

"Join us as soon as you can," Betty smiled weakly at her husband, masking 
her curiosity over the all "important" phone calls he seemed to be making 
lately. Tony watched them troop into the study before entering the Old man's 
private den and library. He let out a hopeless gust of air, wondering how 
much longer he could take these Thursday night rituals. He was so damned 
tired of routine-routine-humdrum routine. 

Absently, he picked up the phone. He stopped short before starting to dial, 
listening to the giggling girl's voice on the phone. Tricia was using the 
extension phone upstairs, he realized. He was about to excuse himself and 
recradle the receiver, but froze at the words he heard on the other end. A 
boy's voice, that teenaged crackle. But the words ... they seemed to have 
paralyzed Tony. Had he heard right? 

"Hey, Tricia, my buddy's cock is even bigger than mine! You'll like him!" 

Tony froze, receiver up close to his ear. Yes, he had heard right. That's 
exactly what had penetrated his earlobe: "Hey, Tricia, my buddy's cock is 
even bigger than mine! You'll like him!" 

An obscene phone call ... someone was making an obscene phone call to 
Tricia. Tony hesitated, wondering if he should cut in, wondering what he 
should say. He was sidetracked by that very certain giggle that belonged to 
"baby-Tricia." He swayed slightly, her reply slowly penetrating his brain. 

"Well, your cock wasn't so big!" Tony heard Tricia's voice shrill in between 
her giggling. 

"It's big enough," the young voice on the other end replied. "And didn't I 
know how to use it on you?" 

"You sure did!" Tricia replied, keeping her voice low between giggles. 

"So do you want to meet my buddy?" the boy's voice asked again. 

"How old is he?" 

"He's fifteen, and real experienced with girls." 

"What does that mean?" Tony heard Tricia's giggling voice. 

"That means that he'll give you a terrific fucking!" 

"What's your buddy's name?" 

"Andy. He's right here if you want to talk to him, Tricia." 

Tony swayed uneasily, still clutching the receiver close to his ear, not 
believing that he had actually heard Tricia's next response: 

"Just how big is his cock, Billy?" 

"He's got me and Jimmy both beat. Here I'll let you talk to him yourself. If 
you like him, make a date and we'll all three be there." 

'Well, let me talk to him," Tricia smugly replied. "Maybe I will-and maybe I 
won't." 

Tony sucked in his breath, fearful that Tricia might discover that someone 
was on the extension. This was wild ... he thought, realizing that in that 
short span of time of listening in on their sexually-laden conversation his 
cock was rock-hard and banging furiously against his trousers. Talk about 
new thrills ... this was doing wonders for him. 

Tony unzipped his fly and yanked his throbbing hard cock out of his trousers 
as he heard the new boy's voice on the other end of the line. A slightly 
older, more cocky voice. Tony stroked his cock back and forth, remaining 
still, anxious to hear every word and every sigh between the words. He could 
just imagine that those young boys were tugging at their hard cocks, and 
most likely, up in her room, Tricia had a few fingers lodged deeply into her 
young cunt. 

What a show ... Tony moaned to himself, ready to draw in his own mental 
images to the audio portion he was tuned in on. Tony kept stroking his thick 
cock back and forth, listening intently to every word, sigh, giggle and 
groan from the youngsters: 

"Hi, Tricia? This is Andy." 

"Hi, yourself, Andy." Tricia giggled. "Billy's been telling me all about 
you." 

"I'd sure like to make it with you, Tricia. Billy and Jimmy have been 
telling me what a hot little lay you are!" 

"Have they been blabbing it around to everyone?" 

"No, Tricia, honest. Just to me. The three of us really stick together-you 
can trust us." 

"So you want a date with me?" Tricia's voice was coy. "Are you as handsome 
and big as Billy claims you are?" 

"I haven't had any complaints so far," Andy bragged. 

"How big is it?" Tricia boldly asked. "Billy said you guys all measure your 
dicks when you're fooling around." 

"I've got pretty damned close to seven inches!" Andy boasted. "I'm the 
biggest of all the guys around here!" 

"You're kidding, is it really that big?" 

"Meet me tomorrow night, you know, behind the railroad warehouse, and I'll 
prove it to you!" 

"Will you be nice to me, Andy?" 

"Yeah, sure, I'll give you a good fucking. And I know how to hold it back. I 
won't come right away like Billy and Jimmy do. You'll see!" 

"That isn't exactly what I mean by being nice to me," Tricia's pouting voice 
replied. "I mean, will you also wanna neck and pet and make out." 

"Yeah, sure, just as long as you let me fuck you!" 

"You know what I really like, Andy." 

"No, what?" 

"I like a boy to play with my knockers." 

"Yeah, I dig that. Hell, I'll suck on the nipples like crazy!" 

"Oh, Andy, you're getting me all excited!" 

"Then sneak out tonight. Let's make it tonight-we'll ball like crazy!" 

"I can't! We've got company, and they won't let me out. Tomorrow night is my 
only chance-they think I'm going to my girlfriend's house. It'll have to be 
tomorrow night. 

"Oh, I may die until then," Andy's voice moaned over the phone. "If you know 
what I mean, Tricia." 

"I think I do," she giggled. "Is it real hard right now?" 

"It's as hard as a rock, just thinking about your pussy." 

"Are you playing with yourself?" she asked. 

"We all are! Man, we're all about to explode!" 

"Guess what I'm doing, Andy." 

"Tell me." 

"I'm lying on my bed, with my hand up under my dress." She cut it short to 
let out a giggle- 

"Yeah, tell me what else you're doing, Tricia." 

"My panties are off, and I've got three fingers shoved up my cunt, and I'm 
pretending it's really your cock." 

"Oh, that's wild!" Andy countered. "Man, I'm beating my meat like crazy! Can 
you hear the noise?" 

"Not really-" 

"Now listen, Tricia, I'm going to put the receiver right down by my cock 
while I'm pounding it." 

Tony found himself jerking off like a schoolboy, listening to the sound of 
that teenaged boy beating his meat over the phone. Tony had to hold back on 
the hand-action, fearful that he might explode and shoot his semen all over 
the rug and up on the desk. He tried desperately to check his heavy 
breathing, anxious to not miss a moment of the vocal show he was being 
treated to. 

"Tricia?" Andy's voice called over the line. "Did you hear my cock banging 
against the receiver?" 

"Wow, I sure did!" 

"Well, tomorrow night you can watch it banging against your cunt. How does 
that sound to you?" 

"Real groovy! Will it be just you and me? I mean, I want it to be like a 
date." 

"What's wrong with Billy and Jimmy being there? I mean, you've already been 
putting out for them. They wanna watch us in action. It might be kinda fun!" 

"Well, okay. Tomorrow night, about seven thirty, once it gets dark enough." 

Tony heard a round of raucous laughter on the boy's end. He then heard 
Tricia question what the laughter was all about. 

"Billy just shot his load!" Andy explained. "All over the living room rug! 
What a mess!" 

"He always shoots too fast," Tricia laughed. "I hope you won't be too fast, 
Andy." 

"Don't you worry, I had an older girl teach me how to hold back. And then 
after we rest a while, we can always start fucking a second time!" 

"Wow, that sounds real groovy!" Tricia groaned. 

"Don't overwork that pussy with your fingers," Andy smugly informed her. " 
'cause I'll take good care of it tomorrow night." 

"Tomorrow night..." Andy repeated. "We're gonna fuck up a storm." 

"Oh, wow!" Tricia exclaimed, obviously jabbing her fingers deeper into her 
love-slit. "Tomorrow night, Andy. G'bye!" 

Tony remained motionless, his hand firmly on his rock-hard cock for a long 
time after he heard both clicks, one on each end. 

"Precious little baby-Tricia..." he finally moaned, putting the receiver 
down. "Baby-Tricia's hot little cunt ... " he whispered hoarsely, by now 
totally oblivious to the important phone call he had set out to make. "Those 
kids are too much." he added, still not certain he had actually heard those 
wild sexual invitations. He somehow managed to work his still hard cock back 
inside his trousers and painfully he zipped up his fly. 

They would be expecting him shortly in the study, to sit in the dark and 
view that damned idiotic home movie of the Old Man's latest big game hunting 
caper. Well, Tony had a big game caper in mind with a hot little doe named 
Tricia. 

"No..." he whispered to himself, feeling beads of perspiration starting at 
his forehead. "This is insane!" He added to himself that if he ever 
attempted anything with Tricia, and the Old Man found out-he'd be washed up, 
his entire life ruined. It was one thing if Tricia was putting out for the 
neighborhood boys in her age bracket-but it would be entirely another thing 
if he forced his intentions on her. 

"Rape!" That's what they'd call it. And in the courts-statutory rape. That 
damned hard-on ... he couldn't get his cock to soften. 

The upstairs bathroom. He would lock the door behind him and jerk off like a 
damned schoolboy-just so that he would cool off. He hurried out of the den, 
bounding to the stairway, taking the stairs two and even three at a time. 
Somehow, finally finding himself standing before the commode, he was about 
to close the bathroom door behind him and unzip his fly to let that hard 
monster out for a quick and very necessary deflation. 

Tony stopped short, suddenly aware of Tricia's bedroom door wide open, her 
young eyes taking in the full length of his body. 

A sane voice within him cried out: Lock the bathroom door behind you and 
jerk that cock off to safety. You can think right with a soft dick-but like 
the old saying goes-a stiff prick has no conscience. Close the door and jerk 
off. She's jailbait and trouble. Real big trouble!" 

Another, more powerful voice seemed to he taking command of his senses, 
seemingly pointing out the way to new, bigger and better thrills. And after 
all, wasn't that what it was all about? That constant search for new 
thrills. Whenever the conventional humdrum everyday routine seemed to be 
closing in on him, he thought he'd go insane. So it was dangerous ... all 
the more thrilling. 

Tony pretended he didn't know she was watching him from across the hallway. 
He unzipped his fly and reeled out his long length of throbbing cock as 
though he were urinating. 

The cock stood at attention; he was unable to urinate in that massive 
condition. Calmly, certain her young eyes were glued on the sight, he tugged 
his meat back within the confines of his trousers and zipped his fly back up 
again. 

He headed out of the bathroom, standing indecisively in the hallway, 
watching that smile on her young face, her legs folded underneath her. The 
sane voice was at it again, telling him enough was enough, don't press your 
luck too far. 

Tony wasn't listening, he smiled back at Tricia, slowly moving over to her 
doorway. Standing in her doorway, he let loose his bombshell: 

"Hey, Tricia-baby ... tomorrow night's your big night, huh?" 

"You were listening-" Tricia paled. 

"Oh, I'm not a squealer," he playfully toyed with her. "I hope you really 
enjoy the fucking Andy promised to give you-" 

"Oh, no!" She tensed. "You heard-" 

"Don't sweat it, baby-Tricia," he assured her, closing her bedroom door 
behind him. "Now I have to get downstairs, but first I'd like to give you 
something those young boys aren't pro enough to give you." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Baby-Tricia, get on your back and throw those hot little legs up in the 
air-and I'll eat out your pussy like crazy!" 

"Oh, wow..." The frown and worried expression on her face slowly transformed 
to a smile. "Oh, wow ... Tony, you wanna fuck me...." 

"You're not quite ready for my big meat," he informed her, taking her ankles 
in his hands and hoisting her legs upward. "But my mouth is watering to 
taste that hot, little cunt of yours," his muffled voice informed her, his 
mouth open, his tongue darting instantly into the slightly-haired love-slit. 

"Oh, wow!" she roared, "I've never felt anything like that! Oh, wow!" 

"Keep your voice down," he whispered, face still buried in her love-mound. 
"Or we'll have an audience." 

"Wouldn't they all be surprised," the bold girl giggled, "especially 
Daddy-dear!" 

"Oh, I'm going to eat this until I taste your love-juice," he whispered. 
"Just watch me go." 

"Oh, wow..." was all Tricia could manage to say, over and over again as 
Tony's expert tongue worked deeper and deeper into the love-slit, savoring 
all of that fantastic young pussy taste. "Oh, wow ... oh, wow ... oh, 
wow...." 

Oh, wow, is a hundred percent right, Tony smugly told himself, tasting that 
very special thick love-juice. Oh, wow, is more than right, he added to 
himself, realizing that she had unzipped his fly and was now furiously 
jerking him off. Oh, wow, again, he strained within himself, feeling his 
love-juice explode and land across the bedspread. 

"Oh, wow..." she finally uttered, hand still on his limp cock. "I can't wait 
to be able to take this fantastically big cock of yours, Tony." 

Tony let the girl who was only two days away from her thirteenth birthday in 
on a secret; neither could he wait. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

FILIAL FUCK 

"Oh, no..."Lisa moaned. "What have I done to you, what have I done to my 
precious baby..." 

"Hey, Mom ... please don't cry." 

"I don't know what possessed me." 

"Exactly what possessed me," Timmy quickly cut in, pressing his full length 
of sweaty nude frame down on hers. "Don't go blaming yourself, Mom," he 
pleaded, feeling that his cock was still semi-hard within the warmth of her 
vagina. "It was bound to happen, Mom," he whispered in her ear, his arms 
still wrapped about her, sensing that their love-juices were joined together 
within her. "We've always been left together, and Dad doesn't seem to give a 
damn!" 

"I had no right, Timmy-baby, I just don't know what possessed me." 

"Please don't cry," he implored, wanting desperately to keep his young 
equipment buried within the warmth of her vagina. "Please don't cry, 
Mom...." 

"What made me do it. . . " Lisa checked her sobbing, realizing only too well 
what had made her seduce her son. She knew only too well that the potential 
was always there, but the fury of that afternoon in Tony Mondor's office had 
uncorked her inhibitions to the point where she was capable of most 
anything-even this sordid happening with her own son. 

But was it so sordid, she asked herself? Recalling how beautifully Timmy had 
plunged to and fro, feverishly working that slim young cock of his in and 
out of her vagina. And all so perfectly in tune with her experienced urging. 
And that fantastic moment when they had exploded together; how easily she 
had directed him to frenzy his action at that very specific moment when she 
was about to orgasm. Together-ever so beautifully together. It had been a 
long time since she had experienced that perfect moment of togetherness with 
her husband. But with Timmy, it all seemed so natural. 

"No..." she moaned, closing her eyes, trying desperately not to look up into 
his face. "No ... no ... I had no right...." 

"You did, Mom, you did! Can't you understand that-this has been a long time 
coming! I've sensed it." 

"But that doesn't make it right," she wailed, eyes still tightly closed. 
"They have a name for what we've done-a very ugly name, Timmy, my precious 
darling." 

"I don't care, Mom-I just don't give a damn ... I just know I like being 
with you this way," he pleaded, feeling new life return to his once-spent 
cock. "I-I'm not afraid with you." 

"Timmy, you've got to get this out of your mind," she implored, opening her 
eyes to put her message across. "You've got to pretend it didn't happen. It 
was all just make-believe-a terrible nightmare!" 

"No, Mom, it was too beautiful to be a nightmare! It was dream-like, and 
I'll always want to share this with you," he informed her, his cock once 
again rock-hard within her vagina. 

"Oh, my precious baby," she wailed. "What have I done to you-what have I 
done to you!" 

"You've made me a man, Mom-a real man!" he cried out, bringing his lips down 
on hers. 

"No, Timmy, don't..." she felt the warmth of his lips pressing hers. like a 
doorbell ringing, she automatically opened her mouth to let his tongue greet 
and twine hers. Her shuddering groan was her concession speech, and she 
clawed her fingers up into the flesh of his back, feeling that eager young 
tongue work wonders within her mouth. 

"Now it's my turn to take the lead," he whimpered, totally out of breath. 
"It's my turn," he repeated, grinding his trim hips upward, preparing to 
piston his full length of cock deep within her love-slit. 

'"Oh, my precious baby--! " Lisa moaned, feeling the young cock so expertly 
piston in and out of her warm and tingling love-trail. "Oh, 
darling-darling-darling...." she moaned, each time the head of his cock 
seemed ready to tear right through her. "Oh, my precious baby..." she 
wailed, feeling his hands expertly grab at her buttocks, fingers digging 
into the soft flesh of the crack of her ass. 

"'Together, Mom-oh, together, together, together," he instructed her, 
getting her to gyrate upward each time he worked that slim-jim cock down 
into the very core of her being. "Oh, forever and ever," he promised, 
realizing that on the second-time-around he would be able to last much 
longer than he had the first time. "Oh, let's make it to the moon and back, 
Mom!" 

"Oh, yes, yes, yes..." she conceded with each upward thrust of her body, not 
giving a damn about that ugly word to describe mother and son together in 
this, the most intimate of ways. 

"Always together like this, Mom," he breathed heavily in her ear, his cock 
pistoning in and out of her at an unbelievable rate of speed. "Please, 
please...." 

"Oh, yes, yes, yes ... just the two of us ... just the two of us...." 

Lisa spiraled upward wanting desperately to believe that it could really be 
just the two of them, making it beautifully together. Easily, she blocked 
out the image of her husband and his straight and narrow ways-the boy's 
father. She gyrated her hips wildly to meet each and every cock-thrust the 
boy slammed into her, but she could not block out the full view of that 
seemingly never-ending lifetime she had spent with Tony Mondor that 
afternoon. Perspiration started running freely down her forehead, her pangs 
of guilt knifing unmercifully through every bit of her body. 

Timmy had her on a pedestal. That was why he could feel no wrong in their 
unnatural union. But what if Timmy had seen her that afternoon. What if her 
son had seen her down on her knees, Tony's enormous length of hard cock 
bobbing in and out of her mouth. Then Timmy would know what she really was. 

Exactly what Tony Mondor had repeatedly called her: "Cocksucker! Hey, 
cocksucker, eat that cock!" Lisa furiously bit her tongue, recalling how it 
had flicked up and down the crack of that man's ass-hole, the tip of it 
seemingly in search of his shit. 

"Oh, Timmy, I'm no good!" she cried out, "L did wrong-wrong-wrong!" 

"No! You could never do wrong! Now together, Mom! Let's make it again 
together." 

"Oh, my precious baby-" 

"Please," he begged, pistoning his long reel of hard meat savagely into her, 
his fingers now clawing within the crack of her ass. "Together again-let's 
make it flow together! Oh, please, Mom!" 

"Yes, son, yes ... " she responded, now blurry-eyed, anxious to please her 
son in any way she could. "Whatever you want-" 

"Make it together!" he implored, his hands telling her to move her body with 
wanton lust. "I'm coming, Mom, I'm coming!" 

"Oh, give it to me!" she roared. "Oh, flood me with come, together, 
together, together...." together, together, together...." 

"Son..." Lisa finally managed to utter, finally able to catch her breath. 
"Don't hate me-" 

"Mom, I don't-" 

"Not now or ever, please, Timmy, please ... don't hate me." 

"Never, Mom, never," he pledged, carefully drying the tears starting to flow 
down her cheeks. "Now please stop crying." 

"Okay," she finally managed a smile. "It looks like you'll have to take 
another shower." 

"Oh, I hate to break away," he moaned, his now totally spent cock still 
buried within her vagina. "It feels so warm and cozy." 

"Young man, I'm deathly afraid you'll spring back into life," she teased 
him, playfully pinching him on a buttock. "And you're just too much for me 
to keep up with. To the shower with you, young man!" 

"Hey, Mom, remember when I was a little kid and you used to wash me in the 
tub? Well, how about soaping me up in the shower-" 

"Why you little devil!" she pinched his buttock again. 

"Aw, please, Mom," he playfully pouted, suddenly working his mouth downward 
to clamp his lips about a brownish-hued tip, his hand heaving the lush mound 
upward. 

"Oh, you playful little pup!" she cried out, managing to shut out the 
frightening aspects of that afternoon. "Go to the shower, young man. I'll 
give you a real good soaping-one you'll never forget." 

"Right on!" the hip teenager sang out, giving both lush mounds a final tug 
and pull. "And don't be too far behind me," he moaned, letting his spent 
cock plop noisily out of her love-slit. 

"Be off with you!" she playfully smacked his lean behind. Oh, how beautiful. 
.-she thought, watching him through the opened bathroom door. She smiled, 
watching him eagerly pull back the shower curtains, his cock and balls 
bouncing so freely. She watched him testing the water, then eagerly stepping 
into the full spray. She watched him arch his back, moving his muscular 
chest into the full current of the water. Oh, how beautiful ... she had a 
right to him ... she most certainly did. The boy's father ... her husband 
... in his own cold way had in reality deserted them both. Together in the 
same house-and yet so distant. Lisa watched her nude, romping, young Adonis 
in the shower. They would always be close, ever so close, she convinced 
herself. She moistened her lips, realizing that she wanted to savor the 
boy's slim-jim cock and those delightfully low-slung balls. 

"Hey, c'mon, Mom! There's a whole bar of soap here! You soap me-and I'll 
soap you!" 

Lisa pushed herself upward from her seated position on the edge of the bed, 
slowly starting her march toward the opened bathroom door. She suddenly 
stopped short, amazed at the sight of his iron-hard cock standing at 
attention as though saluting her. She couldn't believe that any man's cock 
could spring back to life so quickly after those two fantastic workouts and 
heavy loads he had erupted deep within her love-trail. 

Lisa swayed uneasily as his arms were stretched out to encourage her to join 
him in the shower. She could not stop running her tongue over her lips, 
sensing that dry feeling in her throat. 

What would Timmy think if she suddenly worked her mouth over that slim piece 
of hard meat? Would he call her what Tony Mondor had called her: "A 
cocksucker!" 

"Hey, Mom, c'mon! The water's fine!" 

Lisa slowly started her nude frame in motion, telling herself that what was 
destined to happen would happen-she'd play it all by ear. Boldly, she 
started her journey to her son frolicking under the shower. 

That steady ring-she stopped short, as though it was the entire world 
proclaiming her sin. Blaring out what she had done to her son. 

That steady ring. 

"It's the telephone, Mom," her son seemed to be explaining. "Let's just 
ignore it-and it will go away." 

"Oh, my gosh!" she cried out, suddenly totally back in the real straight and 
narrow world imposed upon her, first by her parents-and then by her husband. 
"Oh, my gosh, what have I done!" she cried out, quickly scooping up her 
undergarments and skirt, as she raced out of the boy's room. 

That steady ring ... why wouldn't it stop? Even in the safety of her own 
bedroom. 

"The phone..." she moaned. "The phone...." She managed to pull herself over 
to it, edging her body down on the edge of her own bed. Weakly, she picked 
up the receiver, slowly bringing it up to her ear. "Hello...." 

"Hello, Mrs. Pilsner?" the man's voice started in a somewhat thick quality. 
"Is this Mrs. John Pilsner?" 

"Yes, it is." She waited impatiently. "Who is this, please?" Again, she 
waited, hearing the man's heavy breath over the receiver. "Please tell me 
who it is-or I'll hang up." 

"We just met this afternoon, Mrs. Pilsner, under rather strange 
circumstances-if you know what I mean?" 

"Who is this?" Lisa asked again, her fears mounting. "Please tell me." 

"Now don't be alarmed, Mrs. Pilsner," the man's voice continued. "I only 
want to be your friend." 

"I don't understand-" 

"Mrs. Pilsner, did you enjoy yourself with Mr. Mondor?" 

"Who is this!" 

"You were in there with him for quite some time, Mrs. Pilsner. An hour and a 
half to be exact-from the very moment I left you two together." 

"The guard..." Lisa muttered. "But-but why are you calling me?" she asked. 
"I made restitution for the necklace-" 

"I'll bet you did," the voice came through loud and lewd. "I'll just bet you 
did!" 

"I had the necklace charged to my account! I always meant to-I-I just had so 
many things on my mind that I walked out of die store with it-" 

"Hidden in your purse," the man's voice concluded. "But that's neither here 
nor there, Mrs. Pilsner. You could say that this is a social call. We're not 
exactly strangers, you know." 

"What are you talking about?" Lisa nervously flustered, trying desperately 
to remember his appearance. She drew a total blank, unable to remember 
anything beyond that dull gray uniform worn by a middle-aged man. Anyway she 
vaguely remembered grayish sideburns. "What's your name?" she asked, 
attempting to brave it out. 

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. My name is Charley Soma. like 
almost all store guards, I used to be on the police force. In fact, Mrs. 
Pilsner, my beat was in your neighborhood. At Christmas time your husband 
would always invite us in for a quick drink-at the kitchen door, of course. 
Say, your husband is quite an important lawyer in this town, isn't he, Mrs. 
Pilsner?" 

"Yes, he is..." Lisa absently replied, her fears rapidly mounting. She could 
smell it over the phone-blackmail, of one sort or another. 

"Of course, he must be really busy, giving you a lot of free time." 

"What are you driving at?" 

"And me a widower, living all by myself-" 

"I'll call Mr. Mondor! I'll call him in the morning and report you!" 

"Well, then I'd have to call your husband," his voice calmly countered. 
"Wouldn't I, Mrs. Pilsner?" 

"Oh, please-" 

"I just thought we might hit it off pretty nice together at my place, have a 
few drinks, together-" 

"No, please-" 

"Don't be anti-social, I'd like to be your friend. like at my place tomorrow 
night. How about it?" 

"Hey, Mom?" Timmy called out from her bedroom doorway. "What's the matter?" 

She looked up, aware that he was now wearing a bathrobe. "Nothing, son, 
nothing...." She attempted a brave smile. 

"Who's that on the phone?" Timmy asked. 

"Oh, just a salesman." Slowly she returned the mouthpiece close to her lips. 
She pulled herself together, speaking directly into the instrument. "Sorry 
to keep you waiting." 

"Well, how about it? Tomorrow night-and I promise I'll never bother you 
again. Ten-fifteen Arsvalle Drive, apartment three-B. How about it?" 

"Yes ... " she replied. "Just the one item-nothing else . . nothing else . . 
" 

"What'd you buy?" Timmy asked, watching her slowly recradle the phone. 

Lisa watched her handsome son in the doorway, answering his question totally 
within herself. Trouble-more trouble. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

LUSTFUL LAWYER 

John Pilsner cleared his throat, taking his eyes off her exposed thighs. 
She's such a young girl ... probably eighteen or nineteen. About all he 
really knew about her was that her name was Valerie and that she was in the 
steno pool. He sneaked a glance over his horned-rimmed glasses, just in time 
to catch her tugging downward on her mini-skirt. That always amazed him. 
First a girl wears an extremely short dress, and then she's forever tugging 
it downward to cover herself. Personally, he hoped the midi would truly 
return on the scene-especially about the office. Maybe then the junior 
attorneys and the law clerks would pay more attention to their work. 

"Valerie, read that last paragraph back to me-no, that's all right, don't 
bother." 

"Will that be all, Mr. Pilsner?" She nervously uncrossed her legs. "Did I do 
something wrong, sir?" 

"No-no..." His smile was strained "My thoughts seem to be straying. Make 
that for my signature, and type it up in three copies. I know it's late and 
you probably want to get home, but this is extremely important." 

"Yes sir." He watched the young girl seemingly bounce out of his office, 
amazed at such a blatant sexual display in so short a skirt that seemed to 
have its own way of highlighting her buttocks. He drummed a pencil on his 
desk, happy to know that his regular secretary Martha would be over her 
virus and back to work in a day or two. He was lost without Martha to keep 
order for him. 

The middle-aged woman had been there a year before he had arrived as a 
junior partner. Martha's hemlines had never gone up or down with the times, 
always remaining at what John Pilsner considered "a decent level" slightly 
below the knees. 

"Damn that girl..." he now muttered to himself, trying desperately to recall 
what he had dictated in that letter to Clarence Traymore. Basically, it was 
all there, he thought, even if he had been distracted. There should be 
enough there to put Clarence on his guard-an unknown group was trying 
desperately to buy up Traymore stock. John recalled their last phone 
conversation, and realized that he would be on the phone again with Clarence 
in a matter of days. But John was a lawyer of the old school and he believed 
in "put it in writing." Then it became official. 

John Pilsner pushed his padded chair back, got up and started pacing about 
the room, wondering how long that new girl would take to type out such a 
simple three paragraph letter. He checked his wristwatch, he didn't want to 
be late for his date. 

His date ... that was a totally new phrase for him, and it frightened him 
somewhat. He brought a hand up to his receding hairline, pulling in on his 
stomach. It surprised him that he was suddenly contemplating buying a 
hairpiece and going on a diet to trim down his weight. But then-what would 
his wife think? Lisa ... had he remembered to call her and tell her that he 
wouldn't be able to get home until very late? Yes, he had. He stopped short, 
realizing that she had accepted this without even waiting to hear his 
fabrication. But then, most of the time he was out with various attorneys 
and clients until all hours of the night. 

"But not tonight ... " he inwardly murmured, thinking about his young date. 

"Date...." He tried the word on for size, and it made him smile. Yes, he was 
actually going on a date-just as soon as that idiotic young girl from the 
steno pool-what's her name, Valerie, would have that important letter ready 
for his signature. 

His date. He hurried over to the phone and grabbed at the receiver. First he 
had to look the number up in his little book. He dialed, repeating each 
number to himself as he did. He listened to the first ring, then the second, 
and then the third. "Damned..." he muttered to himself, realizing he was 
acting like a schoolboy. 

He heard the voice on the other end and instantly lit up. "Hi!" he beamed, 
trying desperately to not sound like a stuffy, middle-aged corporation 
lawyer. "Did you just get there?" He smiled, seemingly pleased with the 
reply. "I'm still in my office, but I should be able to get away in ten or 
fifteen minutes. In the meantime," he started, breathing heavily. "Why don't 
you get into something that will really please me? 

You were telling me about that powder blue negligee..." He suddenly found 
his free hand down on his crotch, rubbing and brushing the rising bulge. 
"Wear something frilly and beautiful. I've been thinking about you that 
way." 

John listened intently, his hand working more furiously at his crotch as he 
did. "I'll get there as soon as I can-just be ready for me," he moaned, then 
hung up the receiver. 

John Pilsner drew his hand away from his crotch, suspiciously looking toward 
his closed door, wondering if that girl had been listening in. If she had, 
he told himself, she would have been in for quite a shock. In this, the most 
respectable law firm in town, John Pilsner was considered a pillar of 
respectability, and certainly wouldn't be telling his date to be ready for 
him in a sheer negligee. 

"His date...." He tried it on for size, over and over again. "His date..." 
This would certainly be a "first" for John Pilsner. Oh, there had been those 
encounters-but never anything planned. This was different, this was totally 
planned-a premeditated affair. 

Lisa ... his wife would never understand. How could he possibly expect her 
to understand? He would just have to go on being a decently good husband to 
her. John Pilsner had always prided himself on being a "decently good 
husband." And how about his son? No ... a seventeen year old boy couldn't 
possibly understand his need for tonight's date-a date that could lead to 
much more. Much more than he could possibly cope with, he was intelligent 
enough to realize. But there was no turning back for him; in so many 
different ways, this date had been in the making for a few years now, 
possibly even before he married Lisa. 

John perched himself on the edge of his desk, wondering if it didn't go back 
even further than that. He shrugged, asking himself how he had managed to 
keep so much of himself submerged for so long, masking it all in his "Live 
right, good, straight and narrow" concept of life. 

"All the way back ... " he inwardly murmured, recalling a very specific day 
in his life. Was he eleven years old-or twelve? What he could remember most 
clearly was that he had been sent home from school with another one of his 
bouts of nose bleeding. "Mommy's boy Johnny has another nosebleed!" the 
other boys would taunt him. 

That exceptionally muggy spring afternoon ... he had quietly entered the 
house through the kitchen entrance, since he knew his mother often suffered 
from "her migraines," and she might be up in her room taking a nap. Maybe, 
just maybe ... if he was real quiet ... he could tiptoe up there and get on 
the bed with her. He enjoyed it whenever she cuddled him warmly, bringing 
him up close to the warmth of her bosom. There was always that special 
fragrance, whenever he managed to work his mouth up into the crevice of 
those huge mounds. 

He especially liked the way she would plant kiss after kiss on his face, 
some of them falling directly on his lips. She would understand about his 
nosebleeds. She would call him her darling little boy; but never a sissy, as 
the other kids did. 

Up the stairway, down the hallway, he heard his mother first laugh and then 
giggle, and then a strange unidentifiable sound. Moving steadily toward the 
bedroom, he stopped short, hearing the sounds of a man. Not his father, he 
knew his father didn't make such sounds ... this was a different man ... a 
stranger ... but not a stranger to his mother. 

The boy had edged slowly toward the opened bedroom door, cringing along the 
wall. His young mind told him that maybe he would have to defend his Mommy 
from "some sort of a beast of a wild man." He would be very quiet, and 
discover what he would have to do to rescue his Mommy. He peered through the 
crack in the door, wondering at first why the man was so naked. And his 
Mommy, she was wearing one of those silky things, a negligee. Wide-eyed, he 
wondered what she was doing kneeling between his spread-out legs, that 
tremendously big thing in her mouth. 

Her mouth ... it was going up and down on that big hard thing, making 
strange slobbering sounds. He watched her, the way her hands were about that 
man's midsection, seemingly pumping him upward every time her mouth thrust 
downward. 

Those sounds ... coming from him ... coming from her. And then he heard the 
man, loud and clear: 

"Oh, you wild cocksucker!" 

On wobbly legs, he found his way back downstairs and out of the house. 
Somewhere along the way, before his favorite spot in the playground, he 
stopped long enough to vomit on the curb. He let it all out until he 
shuddered convulsively. 

"Why is my darling little boy home so late from school?" was all she asked, 
hugging and kissing him. "Dinner is almost ready and I made you a very 
special dessert. Now go wash your hands like a good boy." 

John Pilsner bounced off the edge of his desk, impatiently checking his 
wristwatch, wondering how long that idiotic girl out there would take to 
type such a simple letter. And then she'd probably have a number of errors, 
he told himself. 

Thank heaven, Martha would be back and handle all the bothersome details. 
For a moment he entertained the thought of letting the letter go until the 
morning. No, it was much too important, he wanted to be on record as soon as 
possible in the matter. 

He'd wait to put his signature on it and place it in the mail chute himself. 
After all, his date was waiting for him. 

"His date...." He still could not fully comprehend the meaning of it. It 
wouldn't be a cheap affair, he'd make certain of that. He had to go through 
with it, he was certain of that. Or ... possibly face a repetition of what 
had happened a while back ... that horrible episode ... while parked on a 
dirt road. 

His high-beam lights had instantly picked up the tall form of the 
hitch-hiker. "Probably a local boy," he had told himself, breaking to a stop 
to pick him up. 

"I'm only going as far as the country club," he smiled at the boy, instantly 
noticing that he wasn't much older than his son, Timmy. "Will that help?" 

"It sure will!" the boy beamed, slumping back in his seat and widely angling 
his lean legs. "I'm tired of walking." 

"Well, you've got long enough legs for it," John replied, his eyes going to 
the bulge at the crotch of the boy's skin-tight dungarees. 

"Yeah, I'm big for my age," the boy replied, seemingly winking over at John. 

The boy's flippancy irritated John. What right had he to assume that John 
was interested in him sexually? After all, that was clearly his intimation. 
Or, was it? John began to doubt himself. Maybe the boy hadn't really meant 
that at all. "Maybe," John thought, "I'm really just an old faggot." 

Every time John's frustrations gave way to such doubts, images of his son, 
Timmy, came to mind-Timmy playing ball, Timmy winning his first swimming 
meet. These visions of his son were not sexually arousing. They were a way 
he had of making himself feel guilty. 

"You live in town?" John asked, yanking his eyes away from the boy's crotch 
area, and fixing his gaze straight ahead on the seemingly traffic-less road. 

"Just sort of temporary," the boy replied, purposely evasive. "I might be 
heading for New York pretty soon-if I can scrape up enough money." 

"Do you have a job?" John asked, annoyed with himself that his eyes kept 
continually returning to the boy's long legs and that bulging area at his 
crotch. Why? Why, he asked himself over and over again. He was a normal 
person, a married man with a teenaged son. So why was he getting so excited 
sneaking glances over in the semi-darkness of the front seat at this boy's 
crotch. 

And why did this boy have to wear those dungarees so damned tight-it was 
disgusting. No, it wasn't ... or he wouldn't be continually glancing over at 
the beautiful sight. 

"Not anything of a real steady job," the boy replied, suddenly bringing his 
hand down to his crotch, seemingly to readjust the bulge. "I just sort of 
make out the best I can," he smiled, stretching his legs further apart. 

"And how do you do that?" John asked, now flustered by the lanky leg ever so 
close to his. 

"You're putting me on, man!" the boy laughed, now rubbing his bulging 
crotch. "Let's just say I'm very cooperative when certain guys want their 
kicks. You know what I mean?" 

John Pilsner fixed his sights on the road before him, after all those years, 
the image of his mother kneeling between that hairy man's legs, her mouth 
slobbering up and down on that enormous phallus. Those words from that 
grunting and groaning animal of a man: "Oh, you wild cocksucker!" 

John Pilsner's hands froze to the wheel. "We're almost to the country club," 
he nervously started. "Do you want me to drop you off anywhere special 
around here?" 

"Wow, I've got a real hard-on!" the boy blurted, rubbing the bulge 
furiously. "How about you?" 

"Me?" 

"Yeah ... " the boy snickered, brazenly unzipping his fly. "You wanna feel 
how hard my cock is?" 

"I-I 

"Give it a feel," the boy cut in, tugging the throbbing cock out of his 
skintight dungarees. "It won't bite you." 

"I don't know..." John had trembled, his hand reaching over to grasp the 
lava-hot throbbing prick. "I don't know..." he dumbly repeated, suddenly 
stroking it back and forth, his mind flashing a neon, that man's description 
of his mother: "Oh, you wild cocksucker!" 

"Hey, mister! Watch the road!" the boy cried out, as John was swerving over 
into the other lane. "You wanna get us killed?" 

John drew his hand back quickly, steering the automobile quickly back to his 
own lane moments before an oncoming car approached them. 

"Wow, that was close," the boy whistled. "Hey, you can cut off on that dirt 
road up ahead if you want to do me! I get twenty bucks-and I promise I won't 
rush you." 

"Yes ... " John Pilsner found himself uttering over and over again as he 
turned like a robot down the dusty dirt road. "Yes ... yes ... yes... 

"Mr. Pilsner? The letter's ready for your signature." 

"Oh-" Startled, he made the trip back to the present, eyes fixed on the 
young girl exposing so much of her legs. He watched her glide toward him, 
letter in hand. Now what was her name? Why couldn't he remember it ... oh, 
yes, Valerie. 

"Thank you, Valerie," he managed a smile, adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses, 
ready to inspect her work. 

"Is it all right?" she asked nervously. 

"Why it's perfect, Valerie," he smiled, quite surprised to find her work so 
professional. 

"Is the envelope ready?" 

"Yes sir. If that will be all, I'll be happy to mail it for you on my way 
home. I take the bus right by the main post office." 

"Well, thank you," he beamed, looking up from placing his signature on the 
official statement. "I'd appreciate that. And thank you for staying late. 
Don't forget to put a voucher in for your overtime." 

He watched the girl nervously nod her goodbye and retreat out of his office. 
"Poor girl ... " he inwardly murmured, "maybe she thought I was going to 
make a pass...." 

Damned women ... he reflected. If you do make a pass-they scream bloody 
rape. If you don't-they're hurt, and think something is drastically wrong 
with you. 

Well, whether or not he had disappointed the girl, he didn't really give a 
damn. But he was deeply concerned that something might really be drastically 
wrong with him. But why now? After all these years? A psychiatrist-maybe he 
should seek professional help? 

Tonight's date ... this could be the answer to straighten out a number of 
things that seemed to be troubling him lately. This wouldn't be a cheap, 
vulgar affair. The trysting spot was all set up, a plush suite of rooms at 
the Spangler Arms Hotel, his date was waiting for him there. 

He grabbed his hat and headed for the door. He stopped short, the image of 
that young boy sitting on the front seat of his car coming clearly into 
focus. The movie was running again, seemingly in double-time. Those tight 
dungarees were down at his ankles in no time, and then his jockey shorts, 
tugged downward so quickly, so expertly. The boy's first words: "Take it, 
balls and all, mister!" 

Strange ... he didn't even know the boy's name ... not that it really 
mattered. What mattered was that somewhere in this world a living, breathing 
human being was totally in on a dark, perverted little corner of his life. 

Once again, John Pilsner asked himself the question he had asked himself so 
many times since that sordid affair on the front seat of his car on a dirt 
road. 

What made him do it? 

No ... not the physical act of bringing his mouth down over that throbbing 
projection of young muscle and flesh. Somewhere, somehow, he could possibly 
find a logical answer for that. And his life could still go on a fairly 
normal routine. 

What made him do it? What obsessed him? Why had he suddenly started begging 
the boy: "Call me a wild cocksucker! Please, I want to hear it! Over and 
over again, while I do it! Oh, please, a wild cocksucker. Say it over and 
over and I'll give you an extra ten dollars!" 

"Shit, yeah-for a ten-spot! Eat it-you wild cocksucker!" 

John forced the rerun in his mind to grind through a halt. His date ... 
clean and fine ... no need for vulgar screechings. He hurried out of his 
office, racing to meet the date he had met in that bar the other night. In a 
matter of minutes, Junior Traymore would welcome him with open, loving arms. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

RAUNCHY RENDEZVOUS 

Lisa fixed her eyes on the bronzed number seven on the door. She forced a 
slight smile at the irony of the supposedly lucky number. She brought her 
white-gloved hand up to knock on it. The fisted hand remained in midair, she 
couldn't quite make it. 

She glanced furtively about, certain all eyes were upon her. Her gaze moved 
slightly upward to the flickering neon: The Alma Motel. She watched it 
flicker on and off in time with the smaller sign beneath it: Vacancy. She 
remained there, certain it was hypnotizing her. Maybe then she would be able 
to go through with it. This was certainly a "big first" for her. She swayed 
uneasily. She could just hear the gossip: well-known corporation lawyer's 
wife seen sneaking into cabin seven of the Alma Motel! 

Standing there, her thoughts turned more and more to John, sensing she did 
not want to bring ruin and disgrace to him. Maybe he was a cold fish in 
bed-but he was good to her in so many other ways. 

Last night ... it must have been quite a bit after midnight when he sneaked 
into their bedroom. He seemed to be going out of his way to be as noiseless 
as possible. And when she opened her eyes, moving about, when he gave her 
the customary peck of a kiss on the cheek ... she was certain she smelled a 
delicate perfume. She now strained to recall that obviously expensive scent. 
As sleepy as she was, she was reasonably certain that it was not her 
husband's after shave lotion-which was all he used-but a decidedly feminine 
scent. 

Lisa pulled herself together, realizing that her fisted hand was still 
poised to rap on the door. Now she was imagining that her husband was 
running around with some other woman. How ridiculous! John was too straight 
and narrow for that sort of thing. Obviously their once-a-week-very-routine 
sexual evening was more than enough to keep him satisfied. She remembered 
John saying that he had a business get-together at the country club. 

Most likely, someone's wife had brushed up close to him. John had long ago 
given up on asking Lisa to accompany him on those half-business-half-social 
get-togethers. It just wasn't her proverbial cup-of-tea. 

Lisa cringed, watching a man and woman emerge from a cabin a few doors down. 
The man had that furtive look about him. The voluptuous blonde had that very 
smug, totally satisfied expression on her face. It seemed to be saying, "Now 
that my lover has shown me a wild time-I don't mind going home to my ho-hum 
dull husband." 

"Knock," she whispered to herself, forcing herself to believe that she had 
taken the right course. This, she assured herself, was obviously the lesser 
of two evils. And, she was forced to admit to herself-no doubt the better of 
two pleasures. 

She had not slept well that night, and her entire day had been deeply 
troubled. She knew she couldn't keep that appointment with Charley Soma-she 
just could't bring herself to do it. 

She was through wrestling with the decision at three that afternoon. That 
was the exact time that she had called Tony Mondor, tearfully explaining 
Charley Soma's phone call. 

"Don't you worry your pretty little head," Tony had beamed over the phone. 
"You won't have to go to his place. I'll see to that." 

Long before this she had learned that almost everything in this world has a 
price tag on it. Well, she didn't have to go to Charley Soma's apartment-but 
she did have to meet Tony here at the motel. 

Lisa bit at her lower lip, smoothing out the pale blue sheath she wore. She 
adjusted the fur piece draped regally about her shoulders. She faced a 
moment of truth: she wanted to see Tony. She couldn't quite put her finger 
on it, but they had so much in common. She had sensed that during their wild 
sexual spree in the confines of his private office the day before. It was as 
though ... they were both on the same path in search of something. What that 
something-she could not quite comprehend at that moment. She was certain of 
one thing. Tony Mondor could easily drum up all the "Forbidden Fruit" 
thrills she would ever need. She was reasonably certain that the word was 
sublimation. With Tony, she could sexually sublimate her desire to go out on 
shoplifting sprees. 

"He'll make me pay ... " she inwardly murmured, steeling herself for a grand 
entrance. She realized that Tony had a sadistic way of making a person pay 
for their sin-with more and wilder sins. 

"He'll make me pay.,..." she softly repeated, thinking back to that morning, 
only seconds after her husband had left the house. In fact, while her 
husband was still backing his car out of the driveway. She had gone back 
upstairs to her room, wanting to rest a while, to put off her decision on 
Charley Soma. Timmy was waiting for her in her bedroom, only a bath towel 
draped about his midsection. A bath towel that could not possibly stay down 
in place with the hardness of his eager cock jutting upward. 

"Oh, Timmy, no ... we've got to blot that out of our lives...." 

"I can't-and I don't want to," the boy had informed her, moving in on her. 
"I just don't want to...." he repeated, taking her in his arms, his lips 
instantly pressing hers. 

Not another word was necessary as he carefully laid her out on the bed, 
expertly parting her bathrobe and negligee. Each time she mustered the 
strength to try to reason with him that this could not go on forever-his 
lips pressed against hers before she could mouth the words. 

They had made it together again. The boy pistoning her furiously with his 
slim-jim cock, while as though in a dream, she automatically gyrated her 
hips up to meet him each time. The signal was silent, they erupted and 
flooded together. 

Smiling, he had given her a farewell kiss before rushing off to his room to 
get ready for school. 

"S'long, Mom!" he had called out as he dashed down the stairway on the first 
phase of his trip to school. Just like that ... ever so normal.... "S'long, 
Mom!" 

There was a very ugly word for what she had introduced her son to. She had 
no right leading him into it. Soon enough, he would have encountered a 
more-than-willing teenaged girl, and it would have happened totally in the 
norm. 

Lisa knocked firmly on door number seven, totally convinced that Tony Mondor 
would make her pay for her most mortal sin, along with a few of her venial 
sins. She repeated the steady barrage of knocks, seemingly impatient to get 
Tony Mondor's special brand of sexual punishment underway. 

"Well, hello!" Tony beamed, opening the door for her. "You're right on time, 
Doll-baby! I like that in a female-I really like that...." 

Lisa silently moved into the room, tried not to concentrate on the totally 
commercial aspects of the moderately priced motel unit. Her eyes went over 
to the bathroom door, and she hoped that she could at least undress in 
there. 

"Could I use the bathroom-" 

"What's your rush, baby? Let's have a little drink first," he shrugged, 
pointing to the bottle of scotch on the dresser. 

"I-I don't feel like drinking-" 

"What do you feel like?" He teased, moving in on her, his thighs instantly 
brushing up against the formfitting sheath. "Hey-hey," he went on, not 
waiting for her reply. "I know I like what I feel here! Oh, yes, indeed!" he 
stressed, working the flat of his hands up to the luscious high rise of her 
breasts. "Baby, I really enjoy the way your knockers really point at a guy. 
I don't know why you bother to wear a bra-you sure as hell don't need one!" 

"May I at least get undressed in the bathroom?" 

"You're in such a hurry ... and you're so formal. I mean, after yesterday 
afternoon, you could say we were pretty well acquainted." He grinned lewdly, 
his hands pressing inward on her breasts, his face moving into the narrow 
valley. "Sooner or later, Baby, I've just got to fuck you between the tits! 
Just press them real tight together and make a fantastic hairless pussy for 
my cock." 

"I don't care," she repbed in a tired voice. "You can do whatever you want. 
But I'm warning you-it had better be today....because there won't be a next 
time. Not ever," she stressed, feeling his outline of hard cock banging up 
into the V of her thighs. "Not ever again-do you understand that?" 

"Honey, I gave you my word," she feigned his honest intentions. "This is our 
very last fling. Then we're paid up in full." Managing to remove his right 
hand from her breast he raised it upward. "I give you my solemn word. 
This-is our farewell party. Now let me work that zipper all the way down, 
and then I want to see you really squirm out of that outfit," he droned on, 
taking her furpiece and tossing it over a chair. 

"The last time ... " she whimpered, slipping out of the dress and stepping 
out of it. 

"The very last-" 

"That you'll never forget," he stressed, taking her dress and tossing it 
over the back of the chair. "Oh, Baby, stand back and let me look at you 
while you peel off everything. Honey, give me a real fine show!" 

"The very last time ... " Lisa repeated, purposely undoing the clasp of her 
bra. 

"I've always been curious," he smugly started, exaggerating the rubbing of 
the outline of hard meat down the thigh-portion of his trousers. "Why do you 
girls always remove your bras before your panties? Why not the other way 
around?" 

Lisa hurried with her appointed chore, not bothering to give him an answer. 

"Oh, that's very nice," he beamed, examining the final nude condition. "Oh, 
very nice indeed!" Suddenly, he seemed to be peering behind her. "Wouldn't 
you agree with me, Charley and Shirley?" 

"Oh, no-" Lisa spun around quickly, foolishly placing her hands over the V 
of her thighs, covering the flaming red-haired bush at her love-slit. 

"Very-very nice, Indeed!" Charley Soma lewdly gasped, standing at the now 
opened bathroom door. "She's as fantastic as you said she was," he went on, 
standing there in his shorts and a T-shirt. 

"How about you, Shirley?" Tony asked the solidly budt woman standing 
alongside Charley. "Do you approve of our society-broad-beauty!" 

"I dig a red-haired snatch!" the chunky woman gasped, her eyes seemingly 
boring holes right through Lisa. "I can't wait to get my bps on that!" 

Lisa studied the obvious bull dyke-type female, clad only in her slip, 
girdle and bra. That short-cropped grayish hair ... Lisa realized that this 
was the female security guard who had assisted Charley Soma in stopping and 
searching her. 

"Say hello to Shirley," Tony beamed. "But don't expect any help from her," 
he laughed, "she might even be greedier for your body than us guys." 

"You bastard!" Lisa fixed her hands on her hips, glaring squarely at Tony 
Mondor. "You tricked me!" 

"I like what I see when you're really mad!" he countered. "This could really 
be a wild ball!" 

"You tricked me, you bastard! 

"Now, baby ... is that anyway for a high-classed society broad to be 
talking. I merely asked you to meet me here at the motel in good old lucky 
number seven. I just forgot to mention that a couple of my fellow employees 
and dear friends might just happen to come along for the ride. 

"Let's cut the talk and start the action," Charley cried out, tugging down 
his shorts and letting his thick reel of hard cock bob up directly before 
her. "I'd love to find out if she's just half as great a cocksucker as you 
said she was. 

"No ... no...." Lisa whimpered, her eyes on Charley's pulsating prick. Maybe 
it wasn't as long as Tony's meat, but the head of it was so unbelievably 
enormous. "No!" she jumped, feeling Shirley's hot breath fall on her back as 
her greedy hands closed in on her love-mound. 

"Hey, don't rush the little lady," Tony informed them, starting to casually 
undress himself. "Now back off and give her a chance to get into it. So take 
off the rest of your clothes, the two of you." 

Lisa stood there, trapped. Animals about her-in front of her-behind her-to 
her side. Animals ... but animals don't have clothes to remove....She 
watched them, trying desperately to control her heavy breathing. She watched 
the final garment being removed and calmed herself. 

They would all make her pay ... Tony Mondor and company. She had it coming 
to-so she'd go into it full swing. Anything, she told herself, anything at 
all. For this would absolutely be the last time. 

"Okay, Tony...." she managed a smile, eyes fixed on his rock-hard cock 
seemingly saluting her. "You win again. But let me warn you ... this is the 
last time." 

"Baby, I told-" 

"And I'll just face the consequences if you do try it again." She hesitated. 
"Or I might just...." She let it hang there, not wanting to give him the 
satisfaction of telling him that she would seriously contemplate suicide as 
a way out if he continued to blackmail her into these sordid affairs. 

"Hey, Tony?" Charley impatiently cried out, now furiously stroking his 
cast-iron cock. "Get her to go down on me! Man, I'm about to explode!" 

"Sure, why not!" Lisa suddenly reeled about, standing directly before 
Charley Soma. "But I don't need him to pull my puppet strings!" She waved 
her hair wildly backward, instantly dropping down on her knees. "Just put in 
your own order." Savagely, she worked her hands about Charley's thighs, 
bringing her face up close to that enormous purplish head. "You want a 
blow-job? One blow-job coming up!" she insanely yelled, her mouth widening 
and madly careening down over that massive head. Downward, she slobbered, 
past that massive head down along the hard shaft until her chin banged 
against his balls. She looked up at 

Charley. Her mouth too jam-packed for words, her expression seemed to be 
asking: "How am I doing? Am I as good a cocksucker as Tony bragged I was? 

"Man!" Charley shrieked. "She is the greatest ever! I can feel the head of 
my cock down in her throat!" 

"Go, girl, go!" Tony encouraged her. "Go to it!" he yelled, dropping down on 
his knees and savagely ramming his hand up the crack of her ass. "Slobber up 
that cock!" he yelled, working first one finger, then two, and finally three 
up the crack of her ass. 

Lisa obeyed, working her mouth furiously up and down, her tongue flicking to 
and fro as she did. Mouth so damned jam-packed with cock, she could not 
scream out her pain as Tony's fingers played havoc with her tight ass-hole. 
It was better that way, she told herself. This way, she would have to endure 
it. 

"Oh, baby! Tony purred in her ear. "In just a little while you will have an 
ass-hole full of cock-just like you got a big mouthful of hot prick!" 

"Oh, let me at that red-haired snatch!" Shirley cried out, suddenly 
belly-whopping on the floor, sliding between Charley's outstretched legs to 
bury her face in Lisa's love mound. "Let me tongue that delicious delight," 
the chunky bull dyke squealed. "First, we shall part it nice and pretty...." 
she announced, her fingers doing the work. "Now we shall go for our first 
taste-" 

Lisa stopped short, her mouth halfway down over Charley's cock, the huge 
head seemingly choking her. She wanted to cry out, but could not, 
experienced for the first time in her life a tongue actually running up and 
down the length of her pussy. Man or woman-at that precise moment of 
pain-pleasure, it did not matter. What mattered was that it was a totally 
new thrill, and it was doing strange things to her. 

"Don't stop now!" Charley cried out, shoving her head downward, pinning her 
down on his ramrod prick. "Oh, don't ever stop that fantastic cocksucking 
action!" 

"Just be ready for me," Tony whispered in her ear, the head of his cock now 
impatiently banging at the start of her ass-hole. "In just a moment, the 
fingers are coming out-and you're getting my cock as' a replacement. How 
does that grab you, baby?" 

Lisa worked savagely on Charley's cock, a strange conglomeration of fingers 
working at the inner reaches of her thighs and up around the crack of her 
ass. Some of the fingers belonged to Tony, while the others obviously 
belonged to Shirley. Male or female finger-they were all playing havoc with 
her human sexuality. 

That tongue ... Lisa could not possibly comprehend how that woman could work 
it all the way up into her snatch. Strange ... it almost felt like a 
cock-but a very special cock. Lisa tightened her mouth-grip on Charley's 
task each and every time that fantastically-skilled tongue scorched all the 
way up into the very core of her. 

Was this really happening to her? It all seemed so vague ... two men ... and 
a woman. That woman working her tongue so furiously within her snatch, 
wreaking havoc on the sensitive tip of her clitoris ... those weird sounds 
coming from deep within her throat. There was a name for such a woman-a name 
that Lisa had rarely ever thought about so far in her life. 

A lesbian ... that was the kindest word to describe this type of woman. 
There were other terms, some extremely cruel. 

Lisa rocked to and fro, that woman's tongue bringing an unbelievable measure 
of sheer thrills to her. It all seemed to be revolving about her. She would 
work her mouth down furiously over that length of fat cock. Then she would 
feel that female tongue darting wildly up into her love-slit. She would rock 
backward, only to feel the head of Tony's cock about to enter her ass-hole. 

Oh, that tongue ... Lisa wanted to scream, if only her mouth wasn't so 
jammed up with throbbing meat. This would certainly be a thrill she would 
want to experience again. Of this, she was certain. 

Lisa slowed her mouth-to-cock action, a thought suddenly racing across her 
mind. This woman flat on her stomach-eating out her pussy ... Lisa thought 
of the word to describe her.... 

Lesbian ... But if she was enjoying being on the receiving end of it so 
much-wasn't there something of the lesbian within her? 

"Oh, don't stop, baby!" Charley growled, savagely shoving her head down over 
his cock. "Keep it going, cocksucker!" he-roared, feeling the head of his 
cock slam into her throat again. "Oh, that's more like it!" 

Lisa returned to her full level of cocksucking, taking the pleasure of that 
tongue up her pussy as it came. Why worry about fine distinctions, she told 
herself, suddenly realizing that in the game of human sexuality there could 
really be no fine and definite boundary lines. Those very specific 
distinctions were well and good in drawing room discussion-but when it came 
to four nude animal beings in a motel room, they couldn't possibly apply. 

"Take hold," Tony grunted, warning her, suddenly lunging forward and jamming 
the start of his cock up her ass-hole. "Oh, man, what a tight ass-hole!" 

Lisa thought the pain would split her down the middle. Why doesn't he stop? 
For just a moment, she inwardly pleaded, unable to mouth her plea. 

"All the way home--! " he roared, pistoning the full length of his cock all 
the way up within her anus. "Oh, wow, is it ever a tight fit!" 

"Harder on that cock!" Charley begged her, his hands now cupped about the 
back of her head. "Don't stop now, baby. "Because it won't be long before I 
reward you with a big hot load of love-juice!" 

"Oh, let me give it to you good ol' doggie style!" Tony roared, starting a 
steady crescendo of cock to ass-hole thrusts, each one seemingly dedicated 
to the hope of tearing her apart. 

Oh, but that tongue ... Lisa felt it going beautifully on its way, bringing 
her precariously close to erupting her love-juice into the woman's mouth. 

It was happening ... in three different ways ... totally bewildering Lisa. 
She hung on, knowing that explosions were about to take place-all the way 
around. Then possibly ... reason might once again prevail. 

But in the meantime, it seemed to be going on forever and ever: 

That cock bobbing in and out of her mouth. 

That tongue gliding in and out of her cunt. That cock banging in and out of 
her ass-hole. 

Lisa hung on ... that was about all she could... 

But oh, that tongue... 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

FUCKING FOURSOME 

"No more . .. no more...." Lisa moaned, eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying 
desperately to get that motel room to stay still. Why, she asked herself, 
why did that room persist in continually revolving around her aching frame? 

"Oh, no, more..." she attempted to lift one leg up, but failed. Her 
arms-they felt like lead. And her back, every muscle and sinew ached and 
pained her. She did manage to move her fingers, running them alongside her 
body. She determined that she was lying flat on her back. A faint smile 
crossed her lips, realizing that she was on the bed. That unbelievable 
round-robin of constant sex, it had taken place just about everywhere but on 
the bed. 

The room was mercifully stopping its movement, and her head started to 
clear. Her eyes still tightly closed, she still determined that she was 
alone in bed. Now she wondered if it were all over-or was this merely a lull 
in the sexual war games? 

That tongue . . .The tongue of a lesbian ... Lisa tensed her entire body, 
recalling vividly how that woman had rocked her into the wildest explosion; 
how she had greedily slurped and sucked and moaned and groaned to feast on 
every last drop of her love-juice. 

That unbelievable chain-reaction ... With her love-juices pouring out of 
her, her mouth had gone wild on Charley's prick, his thick stuff flooding 
her mouth. And Tony seemingly went berserk behind her, thrusting his 
cock-to-ass-hole action to the hilt. 

"I'm coming-I'm coming!" The men roared continually. 

The women-their mouths much to engrossed-could only grunt and groan their 
crowning moments. 

"I want to go home..." Lisa whimpered, partially opening her eyes and 
managing to raise her head slightly off the pillow. 

"Relax, baby, just relax," she heard Charley's voice purring. "Tony will be 
right back." 

"What's going on?" Lisa blurted out, instantly realizing the foolishness of 
her statement. 

"Just about everything did, baby!" Charley replied. "And you were the star 
of it all. 

"Where-where's everybody else?" Lisa asked, her suspicions mounting. She 
lifted herself up on her elbows to take in Charley sitting in the easy chair 
at the foot of the bed. He was now wearing his shorts, but his spend 
cock-with that enormous, purplish head-sticking out of the fly. "Where did 
they go?" she repeated, that smug look on his face worrying her. 

"Hey, don't tell me you're ready to again!" Charley chuckled, bringing his 
hand down over his spent reel of meat. "Old Oscar here needs a little time 
to recoup." 

"Where's Tony?" Lisa asked, pushing herself further up on the bed, realizing 
how sweaty her entire nude frame was. "And that woman? Where is she?" 

"I think you really dug the way Shirley ate your pussy out! She's quite good 
at that. Sorry to say that you won't get a second-time around from Shirley-" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Shirley has a very jealous lover at home. A pretty young girl in her early 
twenties-and Shirley has to be home by a certain time-or there's hell to 
pay!" 

"What did you mean, second time around?" Lisa wanted to know, wondering what 
else could possibly take place in one night in one motel room. "Answer me! 
Tony said this was to be the only time-" 

"Tonight, baby," Charley shrugged, getting on his feet, his spent cock still 
protruding through the fly of his shorts. "But the night is still far from 
over. "Listen, just relax, huh....Tony had to take Shirley home ... " He 
purposely paused, a lewd grin crossing his face. "And then he had to pick up 
some little friends of his. It may not exactly be your cup of tea, but then 
again, you might really dig the scene." 

"What are you talking about?" Lisa strained, managing now to sit up on the 
bed, her hands crossed over her love-mound. 

"Oh, don't cover that beautiful snatch," he implored. "Just looking at it-my 
rod will get hard again in no time. I'd kin da like to throw you a fast fuck 
before they get back-" 

"They?" 

"Relax, baby, relax ... " Charley purred, now hovering over the side of the 
bed, his hand running up the length of one leg. "Oh, I love the sight of a 
red-haired cunt-" 

"Who is Tony bringing?" Lisa's voice demanded to know. "How far can this 
madness go?" 

"What madness?" Charley chuckled, his fingers now playing about her bush of 
red hair heavily matted with sweat, spit and semen. "It's all fun and games. 
We're just having a ball. Haven't you heard? Sex is supposed to be fun!" 

Lisa closed her eyes, realizing she could not stop Charley's fingers toying 
with her snatch. But she did not want to watch it. 

Sex is supposed to be fun ... the phrase ran continually through her mind. 
Until yesterday afternoon, sex had always been a very frightening, sometimes 
even dirty word, other than that in the norm with one's husband. 

The norm ... what had exploded into reality within those four walls about 
her was certainly far from the normal. Until now, they were distant 
scientific terms, seemingly used by psychiatrists to describe sick and 
perverted people. Her mind recreated the mental image of the action that had 
taken place in that room, that very night. She had been furiously working 
her mouth up and down on Charley's cock-while that woman's tongue slithered 
about within her pussy-and Tony's cock thundered in and out of her ass-hole. 

Lisa's mind methodically boiled it all down to the scientific terms applied 
by those so-called sexual experts. 

Fellatio.... 

Cunnihngus.... 

Analcostus.... 

"So cut and dried ... " she inwardly murmured, squirming under the touch of 
Charley's fingers starting to explore her vagina. But in a motel room with 
three clawing animal types, it just isn't so cut and dried as fellatio, 
cunnilingus and anal coitus In a motel room it has its own way of hitting 
rock-bottom-the gutter. And she had to admit to herself that she had been 
caught up in the perverted fury of it all. While it was happening, she was 
no better than Tony, Charley or that woman with the highly educated tongue. 
No, in that motel room, the scientific terms did not apply. 

"Oh, don't-" she groaned, feeling two of his fingers jab deeply into her 
love-slit. In polite circles, Lisa told herself, what Charley was doing 
might very well be termed sexual foreplay. But in that motel room, it wasn't 
so polite. Face it, girl, she told herself, biting her lower lip. This big 
ape is fingering your cunt! That's what he's doing, girl-he's fingering the 
living shit out of your snatch! That's the way it is, she shrugged, and what 
went on before with a full house of sexual participants was 
down-to-the-gutter cocksucking, cunt-lapping and ass-hole-fucking! 

That's what it was all about-and that trio had surely managed to bring her 
down to their level. Stop kidding yourself, girl, she inwardly leveled with 
herself. "You were in on all that damn perverted cocksucking, cunt-lapping 
and ass-hole-fucking-and you really got caught up in it. Maybe you weren't a 
willing beginner-but you sure as hell were more than willing once it got 
underway. Her mouth slobbering on cock-her ass-hole jam-packed with 
throbbing prick-her cunt royally treated to that woman's tongue-she loved 
every bit of it; she had to stop lying to herself. 

Punishment? 

Punishment for what she had lead her son into? Sure, but that was the brand 
of punishment she would be more than willing to take from here on in. 

"Hey, easy-" she gasped, yanked out of her thoughts by the fact that Charley 
was actually trying to shove his whole fist up her snatch. "What the hell 
you trying to do to me?" 

"Look what the hell you've done to me!" Charley roared, plopping all those 
fingers out of her snatch and grabbing his cast-iron cock. "Hey, old Oscar 
is ready to ride again!" he yelled, aiming that enormously thick head of 
purplish meat in the direction of her love-mound. "Shit, we might just as 
well fuck up a storm until they get back," he matter-of-factly informed her, 
roughly bringing his knees down on the edge of the bed. "Bring that snatch 
over here and I'll fuck the living shit out of it!" 

"Easy' does it-" she tried to hold back his attack. "You're too damned 
rough!" 

"Whatsa matter, society-broad? Are you too damned good for me? If my cock 
was good enough for your mouth-it sure as hell is good enough .for your 
cunt! Now spread those legs real wide and let's get at some good 
old-fashioned screwing!" 

"Wait a moment, damn you!" Lisa roared back, feeling the head of his cock 
impatiently bang at the start of her flaming snatch. "Okay, okay ... you 
want to have sex-" 

"Fuck!" he interrupted. "That's what I want to do until they get here! Lady, 
I wanna fuck you!" he roared, moving savagely into the opened V area of her 
thighs. "Have sex-is for society folks," he lewdly chuckled. 

"Okay!" she yelled, holding him back. "Fuck it is!" she roared, telling 
herself that if the night was actually far from over for her-since Tony 
seemed to be out finding more sexual participants-she would get the ultimate 
out of it. She would play out a number of things the darkest reaches of her 
mind had only fantasied so far in her seemingly straight-and-narrow life. 
"I'm more than ready to fuck-" 

"Then let's get at it-" Charley countered, one hand guiding his cock toward 
her moist slit, the other hand sneaking up under her ass-hole. "Let's fuck 
up a storm!" 

"My way!" she yelled, pushing him backward. "My way!" 

"Your way?" he dumbly questioned, straining the workings of his brain to 
understand what was happening to this woman before his very eyes. "What are 
you talking about?" 

"Just lie flat on your back ... " she whimpered, "and let that cock stand up 
like a flagpole..." she went on, wondering if that was really her mouthing 
those brazen commands. It was her all right-she knew that was a certainty, 
and her boldness grew. "And then, mister, I'll work my cunt up and down over 
your meat! How does that sound to you?" 

"Man, that's wild," he groaned, watching her get up on her knees, signaling 
him to lie flat on his back. "You're a barrel of surprises," he moaned, 
obediently flattening his back on the rumpled bedsheets and spreading his 
legs widely apart. "Where'n the hell did a regular broad like you learn 
about this kind of fucking?" 

"There's a first time for everything," she informed him, her hands prying 
his legs even further apart. "Now first I'll lubricate that flagpole-meat of 
yours with a little spit," she went on, quickly running her opened mouth 
over the straightforward jutting head, moistening it thoroughly with her 
spit. 

"Oh, man, I'm already about to explode!" 

"Hang on," she calmly replied, wiping her bps with the back of her hand. "I 
think I'm suddenly in the mood to lower my cunt over your cock a few million 
times." 

"You sure you've never done it this way before?" he asked, watching the 
well-defined female straddle him, widening her snatch area directly above 
the upward jut of his cock. "You sure as hell look like you know what your 
doing." 

"Instinct," she smugly replied, her fingers prying the lips of her cunt 
apart, preparing to lower the gap over that enormous cockhead. "Pure 
instinct...." 

Lisa recalled the times she had masturbated, using either fingers, bananas, 
cucumbers-and yes, once even a flashlight-with her eyes fixed on those 
certain photos from that Swedish marriage manual she had purchased. The one 
her doctor had actually recommended. Those certain photos with the 
descriptive passages in that scientific jargon ... The Female-Superior 
Positions In Coitus. Lisa attempted to recall how many years ago....Sometime 
fairly early in their marriage she had discussed going to a marriage expert 
or at least studying one of those manuals-anything to bring an added 
dimension to their marital bed. 

John would have nothing to do with that "Lewd and dirty business." She then 
knew she could not show him the marriage manual she had already purchased, 
How often had she masturbated while watching those photos-especially The 
Female-superior Positions In Coitus? She couldn't possibly have an accurate 
count. Not that it really mattered. Expertly starting to work her 
pried-apart cunt over the cockhead, she tried to remember how long ago she 
had burned that manual and all the favorite photos she had torn out of it. 
So long ago ... it didn't really matter. 

"Oh, man!" Charley roared, feeling her cunt expertly glide down his 
flagpole-positioned cock. "Oh, man, that's the greatest ever!" he roared, 
feeling her love-mound actually slam all the way down over his throbbing 
meat. "Man, you are the greatest ever! Fuck me, you hot bitch, fuck me!" 

"Like riding a bicycle ... " she inwardly whispered. "Sooner or later, it 
all comes back to you ... even from the fantasy..." 

"What are you saying?" 

"Just stay deathly still-" she smugly informed him. "I'll do all the fucking 
there is to do around here." 

"Real still. . . , " she cooed, riding her cunt upward, letting it linger 
over that thick head of his meat. "Real still ... " she repeated, tightening 
her grip underneath his hairy buttocks, her fingers digging into the flesh 
of his ass-hole. "Real still 

"Oh, slam it down!" he roared, starting to squirm. "You're driving me 
crazy!" 

"Stay still-" she warned him, digging her nails into his ass-hole. "I told 
you-I'll do all the fucking there is to do." 

"Oh, man-" he trembled. 

"How does it feel?" she asked. "Is the head of your cock on fire?" 

"Oh, it sure as hell is..." he quivered. 

"Now get ready, mister, because I'm going to give you some very expert 
'Female-superior Positioning In Coitus'. " 

"Huh-what the hell you talking about?" 

"In short and sweet motel room talk-I am going to fuck the living shit out 
of you-" 

And with that, she rammed her pussy savagely down the long length of hard 
cock, actually feeling her body thud against his balls. She drew a new 
measure of encouragement from that deep guttural cry that he managed to let 
out, and she pistoned her wide-open snatch furiously up and down the 
flagpole of living, breathing, on-fire cock. 

"Oh, do it!" he finally managed to roar. "Oh, do it, you bitch! Drive me out 
of my fucking mind!" 

That wouldn't take much, you stupid idiot ... she smugly told herself, 
brining her cunt-to-cock thrusts to a slow-walk to purposely tease him. 

"Oh, don't stop-" he begged. "Oh, keep it going until I explode-" 

"Like I told you, ' she smugly countered, "I'm in charge of the fucking 
around here, mister." 

"Bravo!" she heard Tony Mondor's voice call out behind her. "Look at her 
swing into action," he added, playfully applauding her as he entered the 
room. She turned to watch him, her snatch safely over Charley's flag-poled 
meat. 

"Oh, don't stop on our account," he shrugged. "The kids might really enjoy 
watching such a pro operate." 

"The kids...." 

"But what kids!" Tony countered, beckoning Tricia and Andy into the room, 
and quickly locking the door behind them. "You should watch them fuck! You 
could actually learn a thing or two from them!" 

"But-but they're so young-" Lisa swayed, suddenly aware of the painful 
portion of hard cock jutting up into her slobbering cunt. "They're kids.... 
" 

"Who love to fuck!" Tony gleefully concluded. 

"Oh, wow!" the gangly, freckle-faced fifteen year old boy moaned, moving 
over closer to the bed. "I've never seen a broad over a guy bke that ... 
wow, you mean, she works her cunt up and down over his cock-instead of the 
other way around?" 

"That's the way it goes, Andy-my-boy." 

"Hey, tell her to do it," Andy implored Tony, the boy's hand instantly 
playing with the bulge of his skintight dungarees. "Wow, would I love to see 
that!" 

"Yeah, me too!" Tricia chimed in, now standing directly behind her teenaged 
boyfriend. "She must be real experienced!" she added, her trembling hand 
suddenly swinging around to grope Andy's bulge. 

Andy's bulge. "Well, c'mon, Lisa-baby...." Tony smugly shrugged. "You've 
heard about the need for sex education for youngsters. Why don't you give 
these kids a real education?" he chuckled, playfully patting her on the ass. 

"Why not?" Lisa shrugged. "If this is the way you want it-might just as well 
live it up. But where did you find these kids-" 

"What's the difference?" Tony cut her off. "Now give us a real show, Let's 
see if you really know how to fuck a cock." 

"Yeah, do it," the lanky fifteen year-old boy pleaded, "I've never seen 
anything like this!" 

"Neither has Timmy ... " she uttered softly. "Neither has he...." 

"C'mon, girl!" Tony urged her, his hand caressing her buttocks. "Give us a 
real show." 

"Please-" Charley begged. "I'm about to burst at the seams with that snatch 
over my cock!" 

"Okay," Lisa tightlipped." I'll give the kids a real show," she informed 
Tony. She tugged Tricia's hand away from Andy's crotch to get a good feel of 
the boy's hardening cock through those tight dungarees. "Who knows-I might 
enjoy making this young thing my number two fucking spree." 

"Like-crazy!" Andy beamed. "I've always wanted to find out what an older 
woman would be like." 

"Hey, how about me?" Tricia pouted, tugging Lisa's hand away from the boy's 
bulging crotch and replacing it with hers. "Andy's supposed to be my date." 

"Tricia-baby," Tony informed her by way of sticking a hand up under her 
miniskirt. "I've got a one-pound jar of vaseline handy to get your little 
snatch ready to take my cock-and if that's not enough to lubricate it, I'll 
get a case of the crap!" 

"Sounds real groovy, Tony! But I think Andy did a pretty good job of opening 
me up a little more. You might not have to use as much vaseline as you 
think." 

"I can hardly wait, Tricia-baby..." Tony moaned, his hand still playing 
search-and-thrill games underneath her mini. 

"Dammit!" Tricia angrily roared. "Don't you ever call me baby again! I want 
to vomit every time Daddy calls me that! Baby-Tricia-Tricia-Baby-" she 
mimicked her father. "Well, I'm not a baby any more." 

"Oh, I'll buy that-" Tony nodded, sliding fingers underneath her sheer 
little panties. "I'll buy a lot of that!" 

"C'mon, fuck my cock!" Charley roared. "I can't stand it anymore-" 

"Here goes-" Lisa tightened, spreading her thighs and suddenly gyrating her 
cunt wildly up and down over Charley's flag-poled meat. "Hey, watch me fuck 
a cock!" she roared, throwing all her inhibitions to the winds. "Watch me do 
a hang-up job-" she stressed, her fingers digging wildly into the crack of 
his ass. "This is called the female-superior position," she smugly informed 
Tricia and Andy. "And it sure as hell feels superior to be in charge of a 
cock," she groaned, not missing a beat of her maddening cunt-to-cock action. 
"Hey-hey, just look at me go!" 

"Oh, wow!" Andy roared, pulling Tricia's hand away from his crotch to 
nervously unzip his fly. "My cock's about to tear through my pants!" 

"Then whip it out!" Lisa wet her lips, the animal in her now totally in 
charge. "Hey, all of you-get the fuck out of your clothes or I'll stop the 
show!" 

"Hey, hey..." Tony shook his head, "the monster within her has been 
unleashed...." 

"Get those fucking clothes off-" she roared, pulling one hand away from 
Charley's ass-hole to get a quick feel of Andy's slim-jim hard cock at the 
very moment he managed to tug it out of those skintight dungarees. "Hey, 
this feels real good-" she wet her lips, her hand stroking Andy's 
beautifully circumcised cock. 

"Just like his ... " she whispered, saliva dripping out of the corner of her 
lips as she thought of her son's eager, young cock. "Just like it.... " 

"Well, you heard her-" Tony informed the youngsters while he hurriedly 
unbuttoned his shirt. "I think the lady's exact words were: get those 
fucking clothes off!" 

"Shit-yeah!" the fifteen year old boy gleefully roared, quickly unbuckling 
his thick leather belt. It only took him seconds to fling his loafers across 
the room. like most boys that age, he wore no socks. In a matter of seconds, 
he was tugging downward on those formfitting dungarees. 

"Oh, that's beautiful!" Lisa sighed, eyeing the boy's thin frame with the 
much too small jockey shorts clinging to them. "What a pretty picture," she 
added, still working her snatch up and down on Charley's cock. "Oh, yes," 
she wet her lips, appreciating the way his long hard cock protruded through 
the opening of his much too tight jockey shorts. 

"I win!" Andy called out, playfully spreading his arms out, displaying his 
total nudity. 

"I'm right behind you," Tony replied, working down to his socks and shorts. 
"Hey, Tricia, get at it!" 

"Or we'll do it for you," Andy chuckled. 

"I can take my own fucking clothes off, thank you," Tricia informed them, 
now down to her baby-blue bikini panties and junior bra. 

Lisa thought it was all so natural, the way this girl swore. When she had 
been that age, she had thought of that word quite often, but was too 
frightened to ever use it. 

Lisa suddenly stopped short, her pried-apart cunt entirely over that ramrod 
prick. Her eyes went directly to Tricia's lightly-haired snatch, just as the 
girl tugged down her panties. 

"Hey, don't stop now-" Charley pleaded, groaning his urgency. 

Speechless, Lisa's hand seemed to be moving totally on its own, on a very 
direct path to that moist little slit. Unable to stop herself, she worked a 
finger up and down the length of it-everyone watching her every movement. 

"Oh, I'm almost ready to come!" Charley painfully groaned, grotesquely flat 
on his back in a spread-eagled position. "Oh, fuck me, you bitch!" 

"Hey, Charley," Tony's voice teased. "You'll have to wait. It seems our Miss 
Society-broad has taken a sudden liking to Tricia's young cunt. Maybe she'll 
tongue it-just like Shirley did it to her." 

"Go fuck yourself!" Lisa suddenly roared at Tony, quickly pulling her finger 
away from the tender young pussy. "Now everybody watch while I finish this 
cock off!" she yelled, trying desperately to get her mind off her strange 
desire to taste that young snatch. "Hey, watch me fuck," she repeated over 
and over again. "Just watch me fuck...." she sighed, pistoning her cunt 
furiously up and down the flag-poled prick. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..." she 
moaned, not wanting to think of the word or process or whatever of one 
woman's desire to suck another woman's pussy. And then-a young girl's 
snatch, at that. 

"Oh, I'm coming!" Charley proclaimed. "I'm coming-I'm coming-I'm coming-" 

"Wow-oh, wow!" Andy moaned, wide-eyed at the fantastic sight. 

"Fuck-fuck-fuck!" Lisa cried out again and again, the animal within her 
really wanting to lewdly proclaim: Suck-suck-suck! Suck that young pussy! 

"I'll be dead for a month," Charley announced, watching Lisa pull her cunt 
up off his totally-spent cock. "I ain't never had a woman fuck me like 
that-" he praised Lisa, slowly managing to roll off the bed and stand on 
wobbly feet. "I'll just be content to sit and watch for a while," he 
breathed heavily, walking uneasily to the chair and slumping down in it. 
"Oh, my poor aching cock...." 

"One down-and how many more to go?" Tony asked Lisa, playfully patting her 
buttocks. 

"What's the name of the next game, honey? You sure as hell won the right to 
call the shots." 

"They're so pretty..." Lisa sighed, eyes traveling back and forth from 
Tricia and Andy. "I don't understand why I ... " she hesitated. 

"Don't try to understand," Tony softly replied, his eyes meeting hers fully. 
"Enjoy-enjoy...." 

"Yes ... " Lisa nodded, sensing a sincerity in Tony's voice for the very 
first time. "Yes..." she repeated, slowly arching her legs to sit on the 
edge of the bed. 

"Enjoy-enjoy..." Tony repeated. 

"Yes ... " Lisa kept nodding, her hands moving outward, one to cup Andy's 
beautifully low-slung balls that seemed to be almost hairless; while the 
other hand moved surely to Tricia's young pussy. 

"Enjoy-enjoy..." Tony encouraged her, hovering over her, his hands firmly 
caressing the lushness of her breasts. 

Lisa moved her left hand up from the boy's smooth balls to fully stroke that 
long, slim cock. Automatically, a finger of her right hand plied the full 
length of that fantastic young cunt. The finger probed a little deeper, 
working continually back and forth, seemingly in time with the groaning 
sound coming from the girl's throat. Lisa was forced to smile, a wild 
thought crossing her mind. She asked herself the ridiculous question: was 
there possibly a way that she might actually suck that young pussy and that 
slim-jim teenaged cock at the very same moment? Of course, she knew that she 
could quickly alternate: first tasting young cock, and then young pussy ... 
but it certainly wasn't possible to savor the two delights at the very same 
moment. 

"Down on your knees," Tony ordered Lisa, his hand cupping the back of her 
head. "We'll just gather around and you can taste all the goodies!" 

"I thought you said I could name the game?" Lisa smiled, gladly getting down 
on her knees. 

"Sure, baby, sure ... but this will just help you decide," he beamed back at 
her. 

"Why not?" Lisa shrugged, kneeling before a semi-circle of Tony and the two 
youngsters. "Nothing like tasting the merchandise first." 

"Hey, lady, please suck my cock!" Andy cried out. "Tricia don't dig that 
scene. 

"She will in time," Lisa knowingly replied, working one hand back and forth 
from Tony's mature cock to the boy's young meat. "All in good time," she 
moaned, enjoying the finger-work up and down the short length of your prick. 

"C'mon, please suck my cock!" Andy brazenly continued. "I really dig that 
scene." 

"Young ladies first," Lisa slyly replied, flicking her tongue out and moving 
directly toward that young love-mound. "I've just got to try this-or die!" 

"Nobody wants you to die," Tony shrugged, pushing her head up even closer to 
the young girl's snatch-area. "Now work that tongue right up and down on 
that fantastic young snatch. You'll find that young snatch has a taste all 
its own-absolutely nothing like it." 

Lisa nervously flicked her tongue quickly up and down the young love-slit, 
her groaning ecstasy instantly intermingling with the sound of glee coming 
from Tricia. Encouraged, Lisa squatted further down on her knees, directly 
before the shrine of young cunt. She brought her hands up behind the girl, 
hooking them into those lush young buttocks, instantly enjoying the feel of 
her delightfully young, almost hairless ass-hole. Lisa showed her 
appreciation by digging her tongue further and further into the very core of 
the young pussy. 

"Oh, that feels so groovy-" Tricia tightened, almost automatically bringing 
her hands up to the back of the older woman's head. "Oh, so groovy!" 

"Better than how I ate your pussy out?" Tony teased the girl, playfully 
running his hands over her hard-as-rocks budding breasts. "Which way do you 
dig it better?" 

"Both great-" Tricia managed to groan, feeling that tongue searching within 
the very core of her. 

"Wow, what a sight!" Andy cried out, suddenly stroking his slim-jim cock at 
a rapid rate. 

"Hey, don't shoot yet," Tony warned him, pulling the boy's hand away from 
the hard tool. "Here, I,ll show you how to jerk that young cock off nice and 
easy," he beamed, taking the boy's cock in his hand. 

"Let me jerk yours off," Andy replied, instantly taking Tony's enormously 
long and thick reel of cock in both of his hands. "Wow, that sure is a 
fantastically big hunk of meat!" 

"You're getting there yourself, young man," Tony shrugged. 

"Well, it looks like I'm going to have to do something about you two boys," 
Lisa shuddered, finally tearing her face away from Tricia's love-mound. "So 
who's first?" 

"Why not together?" Tony asked. "Standing real close together, you squeeze 
the two cocks together-and you get a double-load of cock in your mouth, 
Honey!" 

"Groovy!" Andy cried out. "Real groovy." 

"Why not. . . " Lisa shrugged. "Why the hell not?" It would be like Andy 
stated it in the words of the now generation: "Groovy ... real groovy-" 
Going, back in time a little, she thought of another expression to cover the 
sexual spree about to swing into high gear: 

Around and around she goes-and where she stops, nobody knows! 

Lisa no longer really gave a damn. She was too busy trying to stuff a boy's 
cock and a man's prick in her mouth at the same time, while much to her 
surprise, Tricia was busily fingering her grownup pussy, seemingly intrigued 
with it. 

Oh, that tongue ... that precious young tongue ... oh, how beautifully it 
slithered in and out of her moist pussy.... 

Lisa wanted to vocalize her gratitude-but she could hardly do that ... not 
while those two fantastic cocks-one boy, one man-were so beautifully parked 
within her mouth. 

And those hands so firmly on her breasts-Charley was back in the game. 

What did Andy say? "Groovy ... real groovy!" 

Around and around she goes-and where she stops-nobody knows.... 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

PSYCHIATRIST FOR A PERVERT 

Tony suspiciously eyed Old Man Traymore slurping his scotch and soda. It was 
number six for the boss, Tony realized. He had been keeping score throughout 
lunch-a lunch that the Old Man barely touched. Tony sipped his Bloody Mary, 
his second one. Something kept telling him to keep a clear head, the Old Man 
had something very specific in mind-or why the hurriedly made lunch date? 

"You're sipping that drink like an old lady," Clarence Traymore teased him, 
gulping down the remainder of his. 

"I'm afraid I've got too much work to do this afternoon-" 

"Can't you trust your assistant manager?" Clarence asked, giving Tony a poke 
on the arm. "That's very important in our business, you've got to be able to 
trust your assistants." 

Tony braved it out with a fixed smile. "I have fine people at my store," he 
shrugged. "Anyway, your other stores are continually trying to raid my key 
personnel." 

"That's very important," the middle-aged executive stressed, broadly 
gesturing for the waiter to bring him another drink. "A man must have 
complete confidence in his friends, allies and assistants-at all times." 

Tony hid behind the process of nibbling at his lunch, suddenly not fully 
enjoying his eggs benedict. What was the Old Man trying to say? Was he 
merely rambling on in one of his many "rah-rah" office type generality 
speeches-or was he getting wise to "the group" trying to buy up enough stock 
to take control of the company? 

Second-guessing the boss had always been a favorite pastime for Tony. He now 
attempted to put all the clues together, from the very moment he had called 
him, only minutes after he had arrived at work. It was as though the Old Man 
actually knew the precise time he was organized at his desk. 

"Tony, Ol' boy, could you meet me for lunch at my club?" were his opening 
words. "I'd like to toss around a few ideas with you." 

At my club.... A phrase that came quite naturally to Clarence Traymore and 
men of his stature. Tony thought back to the first time the Old Man had 
extended him that very privileged invitation. He had already been married to 
the boss's daughter for two years, working as an assistant manager, when the 
call finally came: "Tony ol' boy, meet me for lunch at my club ... I think I 
have some good news for you." 

Tony kept nodding, half-listening to the man's steady stream of 
generalities. He glanced about the plush dining room for business men 
only-women only invited with escorts on weekends and special events-and once 
again he wondered why all these men seemed so at ease. They seemed "to 
belong." Tony asked himself the inevitable question. Was he the only 
imposter there? When he was a kid, growing up on the North Side, living in 
one cheap apartment after another, his father didn't exactly belong to a 
swank and very exclusive club for professional men. Tony bit his lower lip, 
reminding himself that a house-to-house fruit and vegetable peddler couldn't 
possibly qualify as a professional man. 

"Get a hold of yourself. . . .You're here now, you at least have your foot 
inside the door. A few more big steps-yes, even if it means playing 
dirty-and you will be sitting here at lunch as though you really do belong. 

Don't blow it ... Tony warned himself, toying about with the open napkin at 
his lower lip. The old man can't possibly know what is going on, he 
attempted to convince himself. He might have a hint of what's about to 
happen to him, Tony inwardly shrugged, but he couldn't possibly know that he 
had a key role in the potential upset. 

Bring it to a head ... Tony thought, wondering if it wouldn't be wise to 
merely ask the Old Man what he had in mind, what was the specific purpose of 
asking him to have lunch with him-at my club. 

Cool it ... he warned himself, not fully listening to the Old Man clattering 
on, his eyes drifting about the roomful of males only. 

like recess ... Tony tried not to grin, realizing how badly he needed this 
hiatus from even the very sight of females. Tony's back and thighs still 
deliciously ached and throbbed from the night before. Oh, that lucky room 
number seven at the Alma Motel ... any more activity and that room might 
have secreted. Tony wet his parched lips, shifting uneasily about in his 
chair as he thought of that fantastic female named Lisa Pilsner. Once she 
blossomed-there had been no holding her back. Underneath the table, Tony 
adjusted his crotch area, quickly patting that exhausted meat of his. 
Watching the Old Man's mouth slobbering on his words of business 
generalities, Tony's mind recreated the beautiful image of Lisa's sensuous 
mouth and the many wonders it had created hour after hour. Clearly, he 
recalled the woman kneeling before Tricia-the old man's precious 
baby-Tricia-that tongue gliding so smoothly up and down that tasty young 
love-slit. 

Tony felt signs of life changing the composition of his crotch area, his 
mind recreating the image of Lisa actually managing to take the two cocks in 
her mouth at once, greedily slurping to get every last ounce of throbbing 
meat. First Andy had shot his load down her throat, then he had followed 
suit. It was exactly the way those youngsters had continually repeated. 
"Groovy ... real groovy 

Tony's thoughts went to the highlight of the evening in lucky room number 
seven, and beads of perspiration instantly formed on his forehead as he eyed 
Clarence Traymore. That morning at three minutes after nine, when his 
secretary had informed him that his first call of the day was from Mr. 
Traymore, Tony had experienced his first uneasy moment of the day. Tony knew 
only too well that the Old Man was almost neurotic about his attachment to 
his youngest child. If the old man knew.... 

Tony pulled himself together, attempting to convince himself that this line 
of thought was totally ridiculous. The Old Man might invite him to lunch at 
the club and play cat'n mouse with him over any level of business-but it 
would be entirely another matter if the Old Man knew what he had done to his 
precious Baby-Tricia last night. No ... Tony realized that if the Old Man 
knew about the nightlight production number in Room Seven-by now, he would 
most likely have pumped a revolver full of shells into his body. 

A sense of safety returning to Tony, he kept up his game of half-listening 
to the Old Man; somehow nodding yes or no at the right times. Underneath the 
table, shrouded in safety by the tablecloth, he gave his slightly bulging 
crotch-area a very comforting hand-brushing. 

Poor Tricia ... Tony inwardly shrugged, realizing that her young pussy 
surely had to be sore at that precise moment, wherever she was in school. 
Well, she had asked for it, insisting that she could take all of Tony's 
enormously thick and long prick up her young cunt. They had all gathered 
around, Charley, Andy and Lisa, all offering encouragement as he had 
carefully worked his well-lubricated throbbing cock into her pussy. 

"Oh, spread those legs," Lisa kept instructing the girl, "Throw them up into 
the sky, real wide-and that cock will come." Half-way to go!" Andy kept 
yelling . "Half in-half out!" 

"That young cunt will take it yet," Charley had hovered about, the scene 
bringing his spent cock back to life. "These kids today...." 

"Hey, honey," Tony kept whispering in Tricia's ear. "Maybe I should stop ... 
you're not quite ready for me yet." 

"No, don't stop-" 

"Maybe I should use more vaseline." 

"No, dammit!" Tricia had cried out. "No more fuckin' vaseline! If I didn't 
want it to hurt-I'd screw myself with my little pinky finger. Now give it to 
me-" she groaned, suddenly starting to gyrate her young hips upward off the 
bedsheets. "Give it to me-give it to me-give it to me!" she roared over and 
over again, each time working her young cunt upward to make it easier for 
Tony. 

"Oh, wow..." Tricia finally gasped, all of Tony's throbbing cock buried 
within her slightly-haired snatch. "Oh, wow...." 

Oh, wow, ... was right, Tony now thought, realizing this was the youngest 
snatch he had ever experienced. And now, he was seated directly across from 
the girl's father-who seemed to be doing a pretty damned good job of getting 
drunk, as though he was building himself up to an all-important 
proclamation-or maybe ... an indictment. 

"Tony!" Clarence raised his voice, seemingly narrowing his attack. "You're 
young and in your prime-and I rate.. " 

"Sir-" Tony stated, somewhat nervously. "You seem troubled about 
something-maybe a business matter? Is there something I could do-" 

"Oh, business is just fine, Tony, just fine." He hesitated. "Oh, my lawyers 
tell me a little trouble is brewing-" 

"What is it? Tony asked, leaning forward, wondering if the game was over. "I 
don't understand-" 

"Nothing that should concern you, Tony. Just an out-of-town group of 
investors foolish-enough to think they can buy up controlling stock in the 
company. But my man is right on top of it-" 

"John Pilsner-" 

"Yes, good man-but Tony that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." 

"It-it isn't.... " Tony dumbfounded, then hurriedly pulled himself together. 
"Whatever you need, Sir-" 

"Like I said, you're young and in your prime...." 

'I-I don't understand...." 

"You know, I'm suddenly reminded of a time I just had my first store. That 
was when the Orpheum Theater was right across the street-before they tore it 
down," he added, somewhat sadly. "Well, they used to have live plays there, 
and those pretty young road actresses would come over to the store to do 
their shopping. Well, to make a long story short, I used to have my eye on 
one or two of the beauties. Well, one day, I observed this attractive blonde 
sneaking cosmetics into her handbag. Well I confronted her, and asked her to 
step upstairs into my private office." the Old Man stressed, lewdly nudging 
Tony's arm. 

Tony's silent question was inevitable: Does the old rascal know about Lisa 
Pilsner? And if so-how did he find out? 

Old man Traymore leaned over closer to Tony, confiding in him. "I didn't 
press charges-but I sure as hell got to press something else!" he chuckled 
loudly. "If you know what I mean ... and I'm quite sure you do, Tony, you 
sly rascal!" 

"You seem to be trying to tell me something-" 

"Tony, you and I are really quite alike. I think I can safely say that 
you're a fairly decent family man. I don't think Betty can complain." He 
leaned over closer to Tony again, almost whispering. "But that doesn't mean 
you might not occasionally enjoy an extra female on the side-oh, no 
attachments, merely an occasional fling." 

"Mr. Traymore-" By now, Tony was completely puzzled. "I don't really 
understand-" 

"I'm trying to tell you something," Clarence stated, finally putting his 
glass down. "That's probably quite obvious to you by now. And you've most 
likely figured out that it pains me, or I wouldn't be drinking too damned 
much." 

"So level with me," Tony countered, unable to take the guessing games a 
moment longer. Whatever it was, he'd face the situation squarely. It 
couldn't possibly be the end of the world. Even if it meant his job-he'd get 
by, he'd get another job. Maybe he got the manager's berth because he was 
married to the boss's daughter-but he would have been bounced long before 
this if he couldn't cut it. Tony knew damned well that he could go to almost 
any big department store chain and get a manager's job tomorrow. "Spit it 
out, Mr. Traymore, whatever seems to be bothering 

N you. 

"This isn't going to be easy for me," Clarence actually flustered. "You know 
I'm a very proud man-with certain preconceived-" 

"What are you getting at-just spell it out!" 

"I'm trying, Tony, I'm trying-but it's killing me." He paused, went for his 
scotch and soda, changed his mind. "Tony, I need your help." 

"My help...." Tony remained dumbfounded. 

"It's Junior...." Old Man Traymore finally managed to utter. "I've seen it 
happening lately, but I've been so powerless to do anything about it. You 
see, Tony, my son has always been more attached to his mother, and...." The 
old man's head slumped downward. 

"I think I understand-" 

"Do you, Tony? Do you know what a father feels to see his son developing 
into a real fag-" 

"Easy now-" 

"I never thought I'd be able to use that ugly term to describe my own son 
... a fag." 

"Maybe you're jumping to conclusions," Tony offered, though he, too, felt 
certain the old man was right. 

"No, Tony, I'm not. And I tell you, I just don't know how to cope with it. 
He's seeing an older man, I'm quite sure of that, Tony. Even though I 
haven't discovered who the man is." 

"That shouldn't be the most important thing-" 

"I'll kill the bastard-" 

"No," Tony interrupted, placing his hand on the old man's arm "You know 
that's not the answer. There's a lot of old homosexual men in this world, 
and young ones too. What you've got to try to do is help Junior. They say 
that under certain conditions, psychiatric help might possibly-" 

"I'm from the old school, Tony," Clarence cut in. "And I rather think you 
are too-that is, in sexual matters. Tony, I want you to help me out." 

"But how?" 

"I can't talk with Junior. Somehow, he seems to think of me as a 
money-making monster who-likes to hunt down and kill animals. You could talk 
with him, last summer when he worked at your store, I think he really got to 
like you." 

"But what could I tell him?" Tony shrugged. 

"You don't have to tell him a damned thing," the old man countered. "But 
then how-" 

"Like I told you, I'm from the old school. Tony, take Junior under your 
wing. Get him fixed up with some real women." 

"But what if-" 

"You can do it, Tony," he winked knowingly at his son-in-law. "And I mean 
some real woman! Your wife won't have to know anything." The old man waited, 
his eyes pleading. "Please, Tony, do it for me. The boy trusts you. Just 
become his buddy, and get him on the right road with the opposite sex." 

"But what if-" 

"It's worth a try!" The old man cut in, obviously unwilling to take no for 
an answer. 

"Okay, Sir," Tony nodded affirmatively that he would take on the assignment. 
"You're the boss." 

"Tony, I'm not asking you to do this-as your boss ... but as a friend in 
need." 

"I understand, and I promise I'll do my best." 

"Whatever you have to do, Tony, It'll be worth the try. I couldn't bear to 
think of other people finding out that he's a hell, I can't make myself say 
that perverted word. "I'll do my best-" 

"I wouldn't want Betty to find out-and I'd rather die than have poor little 
Baby-Tricia ever find out. The poor little darling, just starting to grow 
up-how could she ever possibly ever understand such an ugly thing about her 
own brother!" 

"I understand," Tony replied, trying not to gasp, choke or laugh aloud-or 
possibly all three. "I understand...." 

"She'd never understand ... poor baby-Tricia...." 

 CHAPTER NINE 

SEXY SHOPLIFTER 

"Poor baby Tricia...." Tony laughed aloud, repeating the Old Man's line to 
himself for what seemed the hundredth time. "Oh, that's rich," he wailed, 
pacing the length of his office. If the Old Man could only have seen his 
precious baby-Tricia with her legs thrust skyward, moaning and groaning to 
take all of his hot cock. Or what if the Old Man could have witnessed young 
Andy giving her a wild fucking with his slim-jim cock? And to round it out, 
The Old Man could really get the picture on Tricia's future if he could only 
have heard her utter: "No more fuckin' vaseline! I want it to hurt!" 

Tony stopped short at the far wall, sliding a hidden panel, allowing him to 
view the action down on the main floor of the store. Gazing downward, he 
could watch his key security guard Charley Soma standing at a very tired 
attention near the cosmetic counter. Poor Charley ... Lisa Pilsner must have 
ruined him for quite some time. 

"Hello there...." Tony wailed to himself, fixing his eyes on a mini-skirted 
blonde standing at the cosmetic counter, seemingly impatient to be waited 
on. Looking downward, Tony concentrated his gaze on her rear, imagining 
himself holding onto those fantastic buttocks while swinging into action. 

"About twenty.... " he shrugged, guessing at her age. "Very nice, indeed," 
he sighed, saluting her with a hand on his crotch. He wondered why this 
beauty did not have an urge to do some shoplifting, conveniently get caught 
by Charley or Shirley, affording him an opportunity to play judge and jury. 
After all, the sexual sentences he handed out weren't always that rough. 

Tony closed the hidden panel, realizing that he wouldn't always be as lucky 
as he had been with Lisa Pilsner. Before Lisa, it had actually been months, 
before he had sexually sentenced an attractive shoplifter who didn't want 
her husband to find out. Then, as with Lisa, Charley and Shirley were 
invited for seconds. 

"Why?" Tony asked himself, moving back to his desk. Why are most female 
kleptomaniacs such homely, dreary people?" Tony smiled as he sunk back into 
his comfortable swivel chair. What the world needed, he decided, was more 
fantastically beautiful kleptomaniacs such as Lisa Pilsner. 

"Who knows...." he shrugged, maybe there are plenty of them around, but he 
just wasn't lucky enough to have any of them attempt their shoplifting in 
the store he managed. Then, of course, he couldn't help but wonder if 
Charley and Shirley were really on the ball. After all, it wouldn't be right 
if any fantastically beautiful kleptomaniacs got away unpunished. 

The security policy at all the Traymore stores had always been one of 
prevention, rather than detection. Unlike the more modern stores which 
employed plainclothes, undercover operatives, Traymore security relied 
solely on the sight of uniformed guards and large signs posted conspicuously 
warning that all shoplifters would be prosecuted to the limit of the law. 

"Well, not all shoplifters-" Tony chuckled to himself, curious to know what 
the next female shoplifter might look like. 

Tony leaned forward in his chair, staring blankly ahead of him, his mind 
churning on new prospects. If he could only find an excuse to have Charley 
and Shirley operate in plainclothes ... he was certain they would apprehend 
a much greater number of shoplifters. The rest would all be a matter of 
percentages. The more apprehensions-the greater the number of females. The 
greater the number of females-the greater the possibility of getting a few 
beauties willing to do most anything to not have their families find out. 

He would have to give it some thought. But in the meantime he had a number 
of more pressing problems. First and foremost was what he had promised to do 
for Old Man Traymore. This wasn't exactly his line of work, but he would 
give it a try. Tony was beginning to have second thoughts, certain that it 
wasn't as simple as the Old Man thought it would be. It couldn't possibly be 
as simple as taking a potentially gay young man to some slut, telling her to 
spread his legs, and expect the man-in-question to come out of it totally 
straight. And even if Junior, or for that matter, any potentially gay 
person, did enjoy screwing some slut, it might only mean that he had 
bi-sexual tendencies. Although he was far from an expert on the subject, 
Tony sensed that a large number of people leading gay lives were in reality 
capable of experiences-both homosexually and heterosexually oriented 
experiences-but managed to fall into their gay rut by convenience; or by a 
fear of rejection by the opposite sex. 

"This is for a psychiatrist-" Tony told himself, suddenly rising and pushing 
his chair back, wondering what he had let himself in for. 

"Well, it might be fun...." Tony shrugged, thinking of how he had staged it 
all thus far. "It could be fun...." 

Tony checked his wristwatch. The store would be closing in a matter of 
minutes, Junior should be arriving shortly after that. They'd have a drink 
together-it would seem natural enough. What Junior wouldn't know was that 
the two girls "just happening to have a drink" at the bar, had been planted 
there, totally prearranged by Tony. 

"Will it work..." Tony started pacing again, doubts about the plan to "Fox 
Junior with a straight piece of ass," again filling his mind. "It's just not 
as simple as the Old Man thinks it is," he shrugged, sliding the hidden 
panel open to observe the start of the store closing. 

"Well, hello-" Tony beamed, his eyes moving downward to the jewelry counter. 
"Lift whatever you want-" he moaned, observing none other than Lisa Pilsner 
inspecting various pieces. 

Tony couldn't help but smile, noticing Shirley and Charley moving in on the 
jewelry counter, eyeing the attractive woman up and down. At that precise 
moment, Tony realized, any potential shoplifter could have easily walked off 
with half of the store, while Charley and Shirley were drooling over Lisa 
Pilsner clad in that formatting beige outfit, her fur piece so regally 
draped over her shoulders. 

"What's she up to? I wonder," Tony puzzled, resolving to get a pair of 
binoculars for a better view down there. "I just wonder...." 

"What am I doing here?" Lisa asked herself, her hands trembling as she 
fingered the bracelet. That salesgirl was watching her ever so closely, she 
knew that. This would be a tough one, she might not get that one necessary 
moment to sneak the bracelet into her handbag, or tuck it inside her dress. 

"No ... no ... no," She didn't want to steal. So what was she doing at the 
scene of her last crime? "No ... no ... no," she whined, troubled by what 
hidden force had actually propelled her to this spot. Put the damned 
bracelet down, she angrily informed herself. Or tell the salesgirl you want 
to buy it. 

Lisa swayed uneasily, straining desperately to understand what had brought 
her back again. She angrily bit at her lower lip, not certain whether she 
had driven down or had called a cab. 

An analyst ... She contemplated the possibility of seeking professional 
help. She examined the bracelet-just an ordinary medium-priced trinket, one 
she'd probably never wear. She needed professional counseling, she was 
certain of that. But then later she would put it off, just like all the 
other times. Why couldn't she help herself? She had asked herself that 
question a thousand times over the past few years. 

"May I help you?" the salesgirl asked. 

"That's a very nice bracelet-" 

"I-I'm not certain-" 

"We'll be closing shortly, Ma'am." 

"Yes..." How did that saying go? Saved by the bell! Maybe she would get 
lucky and be saved by the closing. 

The bracelet remained in her hands, the feigned inspection. How many times 
before had she gone through the same routine? If she knew the answer to 
that, she'd probably know the reason she had suddenly left the house-whether 
it was by cab or however-to go on a shopping spree. Suddenly she was aware 
of her handbag. In there ... the evidence ... she had been in that 
department store across the street from Traymore's ... what that ugly 
bargain basement., . . now her handbag was heavier and bulky ... what was in 
there? She dared not look. 

Unable to remember what she had tucked into her handbag before dashing out 
of that crowded bargain basement, she strained her memory even more to 
recall what had made her so hurriedly dress up and leave the house. 

She thumbed through the layers of her mind, realizing that before hurriedly 
dressing to go on a shopping spree, she had been totally nude. 

"Yes ... she recognized the fact, that was why she had to put some clothes 
on so quickly. 

She had to get her clothes on to go shopping. She needed so many items.... 

"No ... she now whimpered, that wasn't why she had to hurry into her 
clothing. She had to hurry into her clothing because she had been so totally 
nude and exposed to-to the whole world. 

"Timmy..." He would be coming home at almost any moment and he would have 
seen her in the raw. 

"That's not it ... " she silently informed herself. Timmy had not only seen 
her nude-he had sexually experienced her that way. 

She held the bracelet up closer, for a finer, more feigned examination; from 
the corner of her eye watching the salesgirl's action. This wasn't the same 
salesgirl as the other day, Lisa realized that instantly. Just like the 
husky well-built teenager up in her room that afternoon wasn't Timmy. 

Lisa stopped short, the bracelet falling out of her hands back on the 
counter. The answer had finally surfaced front and center from where it had 
been locked on the back roads of her troubled mind. 

"Roy," she whispered aloud. "One of Timmy's handsome buddies. That 
dark-haired boy of seventeen, with that rah-rah football hero look..... 

"Lady," the salesgirl attempted to gain her attention, "If you've 
decided-we'll be closing in a minute...." 

"Roy..." Lisa whimpered, turning slightly from the intrusion a moistness 
instantly triggering at the V of her pantied-snatch as she recalled that 
thick length of throbbing cock on a mere boy. Lisa bit at her lower lip, 
making the mental comparison between the teenager's equipment and Tony's 
mature meat. The boy was actually hung heavier than the grown man. 

Roy ... he had come to borrow Timmy's tennis racket. "Yes ... " Lisa 
recalled how it had all started. Timmy had told him that he could borrow it. 

Timmy was still at track practice, and had informed his buddy that Lena, the 
Pilsner's maid, would find the tennis racket for him up in his room. 

"Lena's out shopping ... " Lisa had beamed at the boy, holding the door wide 
open for him. He was slightly shorter than Timmy, but was rippled with 
muscles. While her Timmy was a basketball and Track man-Roy was for football 
and wrestling. 

"Should I come back later, Mrs. Pilsner," the dark-haired boy had beamed at 
her. 

"Oh, I guess we'll be able to find it," she beamed back, suddenly aware of 
how those white-duck trousers seemed to be molded to his well-defined frame. 
And that T-shirt ... how beautifully it outlined a muscle-laden chest and 
the tautness of his stomach. "Somewhere in the debris of his room." 

"That's what my Mom says about my room," Roy chuckled. 

"Well, c'mon up with me," she invited him in, eyes sneaking glances at the 
bulge of his crotch. "You can join in the search." 

That boy's eyes ... she was certain that it had grown by leaps and bounds 
since she had last inspected it. He had caught her in the act of her 
crotch-inspection, she was certain of that. 

"What's the matter?" she had dumbly asked, finally pulling her bne of sight 
away from the young basket. 

"You're so much younger looking than my Mona," he beamed, then flustered. 
"What I mean is " 

The growth of his crotch-area had told her only too well what he had meant. 
She smiled, unable to find the appropriate words to return to the boy. 
Instead, she silently held her hands out to him, reaching out to his 
fantastically beautiful youth. 

She could not fully comprehend it, but first her Timmy, then Andy ... she 
seemed bent on a parade of beautifully young boys. These boys, in the throes 
of their first sexual excitement.... it was like going to the proverbial 
fountain of youth. All that exuberance, some of it had to rub off on a 
woman. 

"Oh, wow!" Roy had beamed, working the older woman into his powerful arms, 
his hands instantly attempting to capture the high rise of sweatered 
breasts. "You feel so great!" 

"You're such a handsome young boy," she had whimpered, a hand brazenly going 
down to measure the fullness of that bulging crotch. "So handsome," she went 
on, unzipping his fly to go for an inside measurement. 

"Oh, wow!" Roy moaned, reminding her of Andy's youthful zest. "You've got 
the most fantastic knockers!" he roared, impatiently tugging a hand 
underneath her sweater to tug at her bra. "You won't laugh if I tell you 
something-will you, Mrs. Pilsner?" 

"No, I won't," she replied, thinking of the absurdity of the formality of 
the Mrs. Pilsner as he wrestled with her bra. "I promise I won't," she 
added, struggling valiantly to work her fingers inside the fly of his 
jam-packed jockey shorts, that like her Timmy's, seemed to be at least two 
sizes too small under this type of stress and strain. 

"A couple of times-I've actually jerked off thinking about you," he moaned, 
working a hand inside a bra-cup. "I mean, after times that I had been here 
with Timmy, and saw you sitting around ... if you know what I mean...." 

"Yes, Roy,. . . " she started, but didn't complete it as she tightened, 
incredulously wondering if that long, thick reel of cock could actually 
belong to a teenaged boy. "It's so big!" she gasped, managing to tug it out 
into the opening of his trousers. "I can't believe-" 

"It's been like that since I was fifteen!" Roy boasted. "It just grew-" 

"Oh, and I'm glad it did," Lisa whimpered, automatically dropping down on 
her knees, instantly working her mouth over the head of it. 

"Oh, I love that-" Roy tensed, his long hands working downward to receive 
the fringe benefit-thrill of her lush mounds. "Oh, that's terrific," he 
whimpered, feeling her mouth so expertly glide down the length of his thick 
cock. "Oh, wow!" he youthfully exclaimed, feeling the head of his cock 
actually being pinned down at the start of her throat. This was it, he 
thought, the really big kick. He had gone ah" the way with two high school 
girls so far in his seventeen years on earth. Both times, while the girls 
had been babysitting, he had begged them to put their mouths down on his 
cock: "Just kiss it, please." Both times, the girls had balked at that 
seemingly unnatural act. 

"Please not that," one of them had insisted, "I'll do almost anything but 
that." 

Well, it was happening to him now, by an older and very experienced 
woman-his buddy's mom-and it was fantastically great. The boy watched the 
woman slobber her mouth up and down his hard meat, realizing that Timmy must 
never know about this episode. 

Lisa worked her mouth fully up and down, slobbering openly at the joy of 
having a man's cock on a beautiful young boy. On this score, the cliche 
about having your cake and eating it too must certainly apply, she smugly 
informed herself. 

Easy does it ... she warned herself, not wanting the boy to orgasm, too 
soon. Nice and easy ... she slowed the mouth-to-cock action, her hands going 
up to undo the boy's thick leather belt buckle. Never missing a 
mouth-to-cock stroke, she unsnapped the one button to part his trousers. 

"Can I give it to you?" she heard the boy implore her, his hands growing 
rough on her breasts. "Can I screw you, Mrs. Pilsner?" 

"Yes," she gasped, letting the thick reel of prick loudly plop out of her 
mouth. "Whatever you want-but you mustn't ever tell, not ever ... " 

"I won't--" he whimpered. "Can I see you with no clothes on please, Mrs. 
Pilsner, take everything off!" 

"You do the same thing," she smiled, bringing her lips to his, quickly 
flicking them. 

Oh, wow!" He seemed to ache all over, lifting her upward off her knees. "Can 
I tongue-kiss you?" he honestly asked, his body now fully pressing hers, 
that exposed hard prick banging into her skirt-covered snatch area. 

"Like this?" she brazenly countered, mouth open, pressing against his, 
tongue instantly slithering about within his mouth. 

"Oh, wow!" He repeated the Now Generation phrase of exclamation. 

"How about those clothes-" Lisa beamed, undoing the zipper at the side of 
her skirt. 

"Yeah ... " he finally managed, already tugging down his trousers. 

The floor a battleground of discarded clothing, they inspected each other: 

The young boy ... the mature woman . . .both on the high shrine of beautiful 
nudity. 

"I want to give it to you..." Roy started, extending a hand down to her 
flaming red-haired snatch. "We're alone..." she replied, enjoying the feel 
of his trembling fingers at her love-slit. "Tell it like it is. Tell me what 
you want to do to me. I'd love to hear it." 

"I-I'd love to screw you." 

"Really like it is," she shot back, spreading her legs further apart for the 
benefit of his busy fingers. "Don't hold anything back, tell it right out." 

"Oh, wow! What I mean is-I'd like to fuck you." He jabbed his fingers deeper 
up into her cunt. "Yeah, I'd really love to." 

"Then do it," she brazenly shot back, leading the boy over to Timmy's bed. 
"Fuck the shit out of my cunt!" 

"Like crazy I'll fuck you-" Roy went on, a hand planted firmly on his ready 
cock. "Like crazy!" 

"No, wait ... " Lisa stopped short at the edge of Timmy's bed, instantly 
drawing a mental image of how her son had thundered her with his love on 
that bed. 

"What's the matter-" 

"Quick, across the hall, in my bedroom-" 

"But what's the difference-" 

"Please, do as I say," she cut in, dashing out of the room, hurrying to what 
her mind obviously thought would be the safe psychological haven of her 
room-the room she shared with so very little love with her husband. There, 
she had a right to get as much loving as possible. 

"Loving ... " she whispered, sitting on the edge of her marital bed. 
"Fucking..." That's what she could never get enough of with her husband. And 
now she would get as much as she could possibly get with this teenaged boy 
with a man-sized cock jutting directly into her face. 

"Oh, let me give it to you," the boy whimpered, aiming his cast-iron tool 
toward her love-mound. "Let me fuck you!" 

"Oh, give it to me!" she shot back, suddenly thrusting herself back on the 
bed, her legs flying animal-like up into the air. "Fuck me, young lover, 
fuck my cunt royally!" 

Lisa suddenly cringed, suddenly aware of the fact that she was once again 
"examining" that certain bracelet. She caught the salesgirl staring at her. 

Why? Lisa wanted to know why that girl was looking at her like that. Maybe 
she knew what a perverted slut she was becoming, Lisa inwardly shuddered, 
imagining Timmy's buddy already spreading the gossip around the neighborhood 
and out and beyond for the world to know: 

"Hey fellas! Want a good blow-job? Go see Timmy's mother, she'll suck your 
prick royally!" 

"Hey, guys! Want a real fantastic piece of ass? See Timmy's old lady! She 
fucks like a mink! On top or on the bottom-she throws a wicked fuck." 

A strange feeling came over Lisa, she seemed totally unable to put that 
bracelet back down on the counter. She felt beads of perspiration starting 
at her forehead. That salesgirl staring at her like that ... did the girl 
know about her sickness? What was the word ... kleptomania! 

No ... she could sense that lewd sneer on the salesgirl's face. That brand 
of sneer wasn't for a kleptomaniac. To Lisa's troubled mind, it was as 
though this salesgirl had actually been an audience of one, a spectator to 
Lisa's crowning sex feat with that muscular, well-hung teenaged boy. 

Roy had thundered her furiously with his thick cock, holding out as long as 
he could before flooding her with his river of hot love-juice. Through it 
all, she had viewed that rugged young ass bouncing up and down over her 
through the full-length mirror at an angle from the foot of the bed. 

"Oh, that beautiful sweet ass-" she heard repeated, seemingly in time with 
each and every one of his enthusiastic cock-to-cunt thrusts. "Oh, that 
fantastic young ass-" She had continually slithered her tongue over her 
lips, her hands moving up to capture those muscled buttocks, fingers probing 
and digging into the well-defined crack. 

It was only a matter of second-merely seconds from the time he had heaved 
his final sigh, his spent cock having erupted its final drop of semen-when 
she turned him over, her tongue dashing madly for the crack of his ass. 

"Oh, let me taste it," she growled, spreading his legs wide apart, the 
tongue flicking up and down the length of it. "Oh, how delicious-" 

"What the hell-" Roy had puzzled, totally unable to comprehend the woman's 
desire to run her tongue up and down the length of his ass-hole. "Whatcha 
doing?" he tightened, feeling the new sensation. He asked the inevitable 
question of youth and inexperience: Why would she want to suck an 
ass-hole-when she could suck his cock? Even his balls-he could understand 
that-but why his ass-hole? 

"Oh, please, just stay still," she begged, the tongue gliding back and 
focth. "If I showed you a good time-then give me a break." 

"Yeah, sure ... Oh, wow!" he suddenly yelled, feeling the tip of her tongue 
digging frantically down into his ass-crack, seemingly in search of shit. 
"Oh, whatever it is you're doing-do it-do it-do it.... " 

Lisa jarred her mind back to the present, watching that damned salesgirl 
turn to check her register. "Do it..." Lisa whispered hoarsely to herself. 
"Do it ... " she repeated, a subconscious voice telling her to shove the 
bracelet into her handbag. No-up into low-plunge of her dress, sneak it 
right inside her bra. This was her big chance-it would have to be now or 
never. 

"Mrs. Pilsner?" 

The voice was coming from behind her-directly behind her-she could feel the 
man's breath. She dropped the bracelet on the counter, ready to turn and 
run. They wouldn't catch her this time, not again. 

"Hello..." the voice seemed softer. Suspiciously, Lisa turned slightly. "You 
are Mrs. Pilsner, aren't you?" The young man asked. "I thought I recognized 
you." 

I-I don't-" She flustered, studying the young man obviously in his very 
early twenties. "I don't know...." she stopped, dumbfounded by the sight of 
him. He seemed much too kind and considerate to be a store detective. And 
that smile, so warm.... 

"I'm Junior Traymore " he smiled. "I met you at the Club....." 

Oh-oh, yes," she whispered in a barely audible, but totally relieved tone. 
"Yes, I remember now- 

Clarence Traymore Junior then uttered the prize understatement of his 
twenty-one years. "I'm a friend of your husband's." 

"Oh." 

"What I mean is-" the handsome young man with the sensitive features 
flustered. "I know him-I know your husband..." 

Tony Mondor stepped gingerly out of the elevator. He stopped short, at the 
sight of Junior and Lisa engaged in conversation. 

"Well, I'll be..." Tony gave it all a "why not?" shrug, sensing an 
unexpected change in plans. "This could very well be old home week ... " he 
gleefully murmured under his breath. "A good old-fashioned fuckin' home 
week." 

 CHAPTER TEN 

GROUP GROPE 

"Scotch and soda all the way around," Tony Mondor beamed, handing first Lisa 
her drink, then one to Junior. "What should we drink to?" he asked, holding 
up his drink to toast his two guests seated on his couch. "Who'll make an 
offer," he tilted his head sheepishly sideway, measuring approximately a 
foot of empty space between Junior and Lisa on the couch. He'd have to 
bridge that space, he convinced himself-one way or another. 

"I have a suggestion," Lisa countered with a lewd smile beamed directly at 
and only for Tony. "Let's drink to the constant search." 

"The search for what?" Junior asked, turning slightly toward her, seemingly 
starting to relax for the first time since Tony had invited them both up to 
his office for a drink. "Anything in particular?" he asked, already 
interested in what made other people tick. 

"What are we searching for?" Tony asked, now perched on the side of his 
desk, directly before his seated guests. 

"Thrills," Lisa announced, lifting her glass on high. "Newness in 
life-thrills...." 

"I'll drink to that," Tony replied. 

"Cheers," Junior chimed in, not too certain where this encounter might be 
going. Taking a sip of his drink, he was beginning to wonder about Tony's 
flimsy excuse for getting him there. Something or another about supervising 
the inventory after the Fall rush-a rush that had not even started. 

"Anything special you'd like to drink to, Junior?" Tony smiled, and to 
himself he added: like getting your first piece of ass. 

"I'll go along with Lisa's toast," he shrugged. "Though we sometimes hate to 
admit it, we're all in search of thrills, in one way or another." 

"I'll go along with that," Tony sipped his drink, experiencing the strangest 
sensation that two sets of eyes from that couch were fixed in the general 
vicinity of the crotch. Hiding behind his drink, he studied the pair, still 
at least a foot of space between them. That feeling that both of their eyes 
were trained on his crotch, maybe that made the foot of space between them 
more like a million miles. Bridge the gap, he thought, and don't take too 
long about it or it just won't happen. 

Leave them alone ... he mused, wondering if he could find some excuse that 
he would have to leave for a while. Maybe he could ask them to wait for an 
"important phone call," until he returned. He shrugged negatively within 
himself, certain this ploy wouldn't work. And, somehow, he couldn't quite 
imagine Junior working up to the point of working his hands over to Lisa's 
waiting anatomy. Lisa might, he thought, once she got going. She was a real 
ball of fire-but someone had to toss the match under her to set her in 
motion. Tony felt reasonably certain of that, and he was the one person who 
could do it. Those two pair of eyes, they were both darting a steady stream 
of glances at his crotch area. He widened his stance, accentuating the bulge 
at the V of his trousers. 

Testing time, he told himself, ever so casually running hand down his thigh, 
sneaking it once or twice on the slowly rising hill of cock and balls. Both 
of them he caught for certain, those little gasping sounds at the sight they 
seemed to be enjoying so much. Hold back on the testing, he told himself, 
certain that after a few more "innocent rubs" the rising hill of crotch 
would soon be a throbbing mountain. 

"What did you want to talk to me about, Tony?" Junior asked. "Somehow, it 
sounded urgent-" 

"Oh, hell no," Tony waved him off. "Just some special work I wanted you to 
help me out with on your next intersession." 

"What's it all about-" 

"Hey-hey," Tony abruptly cut in. "We have a lady present," he gestured 
warmly toward Lisa, as though emphasizing her curvy qualities. "Let's not 
spoil such a pleasant get-together with business talk. Besides, we just 
drank to thrills. Now this meeting should be open to a discussion of 
potential thrills." 

"Some thrills are very private," Junior countered, thinking of that certain 
sense of exhilaration he was getting out of being with the wife of the man 
who had made such wild gay-love to him the night before. "I mean-" he went 
on, realizing that both Lisa and Tony were waiting for him to widen the 
scope of his statement. "A thrill could come about because of something one 
person alone possesses-the knowledge of something-and once he shares it, the 
thrill is gone." 

"You're talking over my head," Lisa replied, taking another sip of her 
drink. 

"And such a beautiful head," Tony stressed. "Junior, don't you think so? Or 
are you too young to appreciate such beauty?" 

"She is beautiful," Junior nervously replied, "And I'm not too young to 
appreciate it," he added, trying to sound worldly, suddenly frightened that 
they might instantly realize the fact that he had never been to bed with a 
girl. "She-she's very beautiful," he added, looking downward. 

"Well, thank you, Junior," Lisa replied, swinging her knees toward him, 
bridging at least half of the one foot distance. "You're a very handsome 
young man, and a woman my age-likes to hear compliments." 

"You're not that old," Junior flustered. "What I mean is ... you look so 
young." 

"I know what you mean," she smiled warmly, placing her free hand on his 
wrist. 

Junior looked into her eyes for the first time, suddenly frightened by the 
relationship this woman most obviously had to one degree or another with the 
man who had done all those things to him last night. 

"My daddy-lover..." he had subconsciously called John Pilsner at the height 
of their gay lovemaking. He had repeated it a number of times, now realizing 
that he had never been able to really get close to his father. Somehow, 
Junior sensed that the old man always used emissaries whenever he wanted to 
talk to him. like Tony ... the call ... it had something to do with his 
father; of this, he was reasonably certain. 

"Lets have another drink," Tony announced, realizing that he had to get the 
party into high gear before long, before one of them might chicken out. 
"While we explore the various avenues in search of thrills." 

What would you suggest?" Lisa slyly asked, her gaze now going from Tony to 
Junior. Junior, she thought, still had that fantastically great young 
quality, but was beyond the "mere boy" stage, such as she had been 
experiencing with Timmy, Andy and only today with Roy. "You seem to be 
something of an expert on thrills, Tony." 

"A mere amateur," he shrugged his modesty, while pouring three more drinks. 
"But I will admit to having given it some thoughts." 

"Can drinking be considered a thrill?" Junior asked, watching Tony hand them 
their drinks, his eyes strangely going from Tony's crotch area to those lush 
mounds Lisa possessed. 

"I'd say that drinking is most often an additive to spur a person on to 
seeking new thrills." 

"Would you mind explaining that?" Lisa slyly asked. 

"I don't dare-" he tightlipped, making a point of gulping his drink. "But I 
will make a rather general list of potential thrills." 

"By all means." Lisa leaned forward, the second drink starting to loosen her 
up. "Let's hear what you've got to say," she added, purposely wetting her 
lips, darting a quick glance at Tony's crotch area, and then a more thorough 
one over at Junior's mystery-area. 

"Well," Tony started, leaning backward on the edge of his desk, accentuating 
the wide stance of his legs. "Committing a crime might be considered a 
thrill." 

"That's not the prime element-" Junior started to contradict Tony. 

"It sure as hell is, if that's why the person sets out to commit the act." 

"Any specific type of crime?" Lisa asked, knowing only too well that certain 
types of stealing were most decidedly in that category. 

"Anything and everything," Tony shrugged, trying to avoid the specific 
mention of kleptomania. "Hell, even murder might be committed for the sole 
purpose of experiencing a thrill." 

"How about drugs?" Junior asked, suddenly curious if the slightly older 
generation of Tony and Lisa might enjoy smoking pot as much as he did. 
"Would you consider the use of drugs as a means of obtaining thrills?" 

"That's the big mistake most young people make," Tony quickly countered. 
"They take drugs-as the thrill. But in reality, taking drugs is pretty much 
the same route as drinking booze. It's not the thrill itself-it's the 
courage people seem to need to move out into the adventure arena in search 
of new thrills." 

"Well, Tony," Lisa smiled, suddenly feeling very much at ease as she downed 
the remainder of her second scotch and soda, "I don't feel like murdering 
anyone-just for the thrill of it. So what else is left?" she asked, smiling 
broadly, knowing only too well what remained in the realm of thrills. 

"The greatest thrill of all times," Tony proclaimed, gesturing broadly with 
his arms. "From the very beginning of time. Sex! Pure and simple-sex!" 

"That's usually a private matter," Junior countered, a fear of his manhood 
starting to engulf him. 

"It shouldn't be," Tony shot back. "It should be ever so beautifully 
above-board. What I mean is, we are forever going around with hidden 
desires-when we could honestly act them out with one another." Tony pushed 
the issue, wanting to get his show on the road as soon as possible. 

"You're losing me," Junior shrugged. 

"To give you but one example-people have such dreadful hang-ups about 
nudity. Why, it's the greatest feeling ever to be free of one's clothing." 

"When you're alone," Junior replied, "or with someone special, you know, 
making love." 

"I don't know about that," Lisa found herself saying, a sense of liberation 
coming over her, seemingly taking Tony's side of the issue. "I think it 
might be a thrill in itself for friends to suddenly decide to take their 
clothes off, whenever they felt like it." 

"But what if someone in the group might be squeamish about taking his 
clothes off?" 

Junior wanted to know. 

"Then he should have the right to keep his clothes on," Tony shrugged, 
sensing by how uneasily Junior was shifting about that he was reaching him. 
"If he didn't dig seeing the other people in the nude-if that wasn't the 
kick he was after-then he should have the right to walk out on it." Tony 
stopped long enough to take a sip of his drink. "But at no time should that 
person have the right to impose his will on the others who want to suddenly 
discard their clothing!" 

"I'll drink M. that," Lisa proclaimed, holding up her empty glass. "If 
you'll be nice enough to mix me another drink." 

"Gladly," Tony beamed, anxious to pour her another double shot of scotch. 
"And I'll join you," he added, downing the remainder of his drink. "How 
about you, Junior? Can you keep up with us old timers?" 

"Yeah, sure," Junior said, flustered. "I'll have another." 

"So who's in the mood to experience a thrill?" Lisa calmly asked, watching 
Tony mix the drinks. 

"I am," Tony replied, once again handing them their drinks, this time 
noticing that Junior most obviously had a hard-on pressing up against his 
trousers. "I could go for a little thrill," he played it out slowly, 
wondering if 

Lisa or he had given Junior the hard-on. Probably a combination, Tony 
inwardly shrugged. 

"So don't keep us in suspense," Lisa wet her lips. "What's the thrill?" 

"Of course, ladies before gentlemen," Tony slyly countered. "So if you have 
a little thrill in mind-" 

"I pass," she coyly waved him off. 

"How about you, Junior?" 

"I, too, pass," he smiled, trying desperately not to be frightened and get 
into the spirit of the fun unfolding before them. "I'm willing to learn from 
my so-called elders." 

"So what's your thrill?" Lisa persisted. "You're the man telling us about a 
brave, new world free of all the puritanical restraints and taboos. Let us 
in on it-see if we understand." 

"At this very moment," Tony solemnly started, "I have. a sudden urge to be 
totally nude-to get rid of these damned restraining, supposedly civilized 
items of clothing." 

"So be it," Lisa replied, trying to sound calm, in reality feeling a very 
definite moistness starting at the V of her sheer panties. "What do you 
think about it?" she asked Junior, suddenly placing her free hand fully on 
his thigh, dangerously close to the start of his crotch. "Speak up," she 
toyed with Junior, gulping slightly at the sudden awareness of his hard-on 
hidden by his trousers. "What do you think about Tony's sudden urge to 
experience the thrill of being totally nude while we are still here?" 

"Sure," Junior gulped uneasily, totally bewildered as to where it might all 
lead. "I guess so," he went on, feeling the warmth of Lisa's hand starting 
to scorch through the material of his trousers. 

The way she touched him ... it all seemed so natural to Junior, giving him 
second thoughts about his fear of the opposite sex. This mature woman ... 
seemingly edging closer to him ... she couldn't be as cruel as so many of 
those cock-teasing girls his age. 

"I'm beginning to feel free already," Tony shrugged, unbuttoning his shirt. 

"You've got a long way to go," Lisa smiled wickedly, pointing her drink up 
toward his undressing activities. "But by all means, keep up the good work." 

"Oh, I intend to," he informed her, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his 
fly. "How the kids say-right on!" 

Lisa shifted her gaze from the undressing progress Tony was making, over to 
Junior. That long reel of cast-iron material outlined along his thigh was 
beginning to do things to her, mainly moistening the start of her love-slit. 
Boldly, she set her drink down, moving a hand continually until it rested 
directly over the bulging sight. She heard Junior gasp, suddenly aware of 
the fact that they were both shifting their lines of sight to Tony, now down 
to only his shorts. 

"Here goes," Tony announced, yanking his shorts down and quickly stepping 
out of them. "My thrill commences, total nudity," he announced, picking up 
his drink, seemingly downing the remainder of it to salute his bold feat. 
"So who's next in the thrill department?" he asked, noticing that both Lisa 
and Junior had their eyes fixed solidly on his rock-hard jut of prick. He 
purposely worked one hand down to cup his balls, aiming his equipment 
generally in both of their directions. "Who's next?" he asked again. "Let's 
go for total liberation, that's what this world could use a helluva lot more 
of," he informed them, bringing the hand up from his balls to solidly grasp 
his thick prick. 

"Man!" Junior gasped, "you're hung like a real stud!" 

"I haven't had too many complaints," Tony boasted, edging continually over 
to them, playfully positioning his equipment on dead center, directly 
between them. He noticed Lisa's hand so fully massaging Junior's hard bulge. 
Junior seemed tense, somewhat frightened. 

"It's enormous-" Junior groaned, "You've got me beat." 

"Not by much," Lisa cut in, her hand doing a fairly accurate job of 
measuring the length of hard prick imprisoned by Junior's trousers. "Not by 
a helluva lot." 

"It's so thick..." Junior continued. 

"I've been told it's quite a mouthful," Tony teased for the benefit of both 
of them. "Quite a mouthful," he repeated, watching them both wet their lips. 

"I'll second that motion," Lisa countered, that old animal-boldness coming 
back to her. "A real mouthful ... " she moaned, suddenly leaning over and 
flicking a kiss on the huge head of the throbbing prick. "Yes, indeed," she 
lewdly wailed, moving a steady barrage of little kisses down along the 
length of the throbbing meat. "One fantastic mouthful," she purred, one hand 
still servicing Junior's bulge as her mouth flicked kisses aimlessly about 
the throbbing mass of prick. 

"Would you care to demonstrate?" Tony slyly asked, gyrating his hips up 
toward her mouth. "Did you say you wanted one thrill or two?" shy asked, 
between her pleasant chore of flicking kisses about the prong of hard cock. 

"I'm greedy," he admitted. "I'll take just as many thrills as I possibly can 
get." 

"All well and good," she countered, "But I think the way this little game 
should go is that first, Junior and I get to an initial thrill apiece. And 
to me-at this very moment," she stressed, via pressing her hand down more 
firmly on the bulge of Junior's trousers, "is to experience a totally new 
cock, one that I've never encountered before." 

"That's perfectly understandable," Tony quickly acknowledged, pleased to get 
so much assistance from Lisa toward the possible sexual reconversion of the 
young man placed in his charge. "So what's stopping you?" 

"How do I know it's okay with Junior?" Lisa asked, sensing that he was 
somewhat frightened by it all. 

"He looks more than ready to me," Tony replied. "How about it, Junior? Does 
she get to try out her thrill?" 

"Yeah ... sure..." Junior flustered, the hand still fingering his aching 
cock. 

"Then it's my thrill time," Lisa boldly announced, sliding off the couch and 
down to what seemed to be her favorite position lately-right down on her 
knees. "Just watch me go!" she moaned, expertly undoing his belt buckle and 
moving directly on to the pleasant task of unzipping his fly. "We should 
play this game more often," she whispered hoarsely, getting the first feel 
of his perfectly shaped prick and tugging it out of his underwear. "Oh, yes 
indeed!" she gasped, sublimating so many unexplained sexual desires within 
the tormented workings of her mind. 

"Say hello to me," she lewdly gasped, flicking kisses wildly about first the 
head of Junior's cock, and then all the way down to the base of it. 
"Hello-hello-hello!" she cried out, her lips careful not to neglect those 
delightfully low-slung balls. 

"Oh, it's thrill-time," she proclaimed, lowering her mouth fully over the 
head of Junior's cock. 

"Oh, do it!" Tony encouraged her, his hand massaging the throbbing ache of 
his prick. "Oh, do it up right for the boy-show him what it's all about! 

Lisa complied, driving her mouth fully down the beautifully circumcised 
length of prick her chin soon resting up against the scrotum she had tugged 
out of his trousers and shorts. 

"Oh, do it," Tony whimpered, tightening his grip on his own cock, his eyes 
fixed on Junior who was tensed up completely, "Hey, loosen up," he urged 
him. "Just relax, and take it as it comes." 

"Oh, it feels so great," Junior finally managed to utter, suddenly aware of 
a new dimension to the act-that certain something extra when her mouth 
traveled up and down on his cock. 

Junior closed his eyes, trying to shut out the madness. What's it all about, 
his young mind wanted to know. Only last night this woman's husband was 
working furiously up and down the length of his hard cock. And now, less 
than twenty-four hours later, that man's wife was operating in a similar 
manner, mouth riding the hard trail of his cock. 

"Hey, do it, Lisa-baby," Tony encouraged from the sideline, his hand 
steadily massaging his own cock. "Oh, suck that cock, baby!" 

Junior Traymore swayed uneasily, all the pat answers being lost in the 
shuffle. Tony had just boiled it all down to a very basic: "Suck that cock, 
baby!" 

Was that all there was to it? 

"Suck that cock, Lisa-baby!" Tony kept yelling. 

Sure, why not . . .Junior inwardly shrugged, suddenly wondering what all the 
tremendous inner hassle he had been going through was all about. He had been 
"struggling with his conscience," searching for his direction-straight or 
gay. 

Gay or straight. 

Straight or gay. 

Suddenly it was all so pathetically clear to him. There was no such definite 
boundary line between straight and gay. Sure, a guy might go all the way 
over to the gay, if he had suffered enough bad knocks in the straight 
world-real or imagined-but why have such pangs of guilt over it? And more 
important, why swear allegiance to their straight or gay? 

Take it as it comes, he realized, watching the wife doing a more deliberate 
job on his cock. Her husband had to repeatedly stop, telling him over and 
over again how he was certain he loved him. 

Look at the wife go. She was in love, too. With his cock-and her big thrill. 
Just as Tony spelled it out in very plain English-right down to the street 
level: "Oh, you fantastic cocksucker." 

That was the name of Lisa Pilsner's present thrill game: Cocksucking. 

Junior pushed forward on the couch, letting the head of his prick jam down 
into her throat. He worked one hand out to grasp at her lush breasts. First 
one, then the other ... touching them fully; not just brushing against them 
as he would always try to do with his mother. 

Junior decided on another course of action for his other hand. Since he had 
come to the instant decision that there really was no need for an absolute 
sexual course in life between gay and straight-or straight and gay ... he 
used the other hand to pry Tony's hand away from that thick ramrod of prick. 

"I'll take over that little job," he found himself saying, while stroking 
the rod back and forth. "Oh, don't stop," he nodded at Lisa. 

"Like Tony's said: suck that cock, baby! Eat it!" 

"Hooray for Junior!" Tony cried out. "Hey, hey, why don't you start thinking 
about your desired thrill? It's about to come to your turn, Junior." 

Junior stopped stroking the cock in his hand. Deep in thought, he worked the 
other hand from Lisa's breasts up to her chin. "Slow it up," he whispered. 
"Hell, I might just as well get in on the thrill-game, and if you keep that 
up, I'll explode this load much too soon." 

"Name it," Lisa groaned, letting the cock loudly slobber out of her mouth. 
"I dig this wild routine." 

"This may not seem so wild to you," Junior honestly started. "But I have a 
tremendous need for it ... " he hesitated, then had to blurt it out. 
"because I've never had it before ... because..." he faltered. 

"I think I understand," she whispered, bringing her lips close to his, 
flicking him a number of quick kisses. 

"You won't make fun of me?" he asked, thinking of that one time ... that 
girl ... laughing at him because he couldn't keep his eager young cock hard. 
"Promise you won't laugh-" 

"Oh, no-no-" 

"Name it," Tony urged Junior, "You're up to it Babe!" 

"I-I want to have sex with you-" 

"Spell it out, Junior," Tony hissed in his face. "Tell her in plain 
English." 

"I-I want to screw you," he softly informed her. 

"Is that the best you can do?" Tony taunted him. 

"Please don't, leave him alone," Lisa countered, feeling a sense of 
compassion for the young man only a few years older than her own son. 
"Junior, I understand-" 

"No, Tony is right," Junior tightlipped. "In this world, you've got to spell 
it right out to get by-loud and clear!" 

"Junior, I understand-" 

"Baby!" Junior roared, his hands suddenly crawling all over her dress. "I 
want to fuck you! Yeah, fuck you....." 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

JUNIOR LEARNS HOW 

like being lost at sea ... Lisa thought. A man and a woman, the sole 
survivors of the world, floating on a raft for eternity. 

Floating ... that beautiful feeling of floating, being rocked in a steady 
pattern of sheer joy. 

Lisa arched her back against the foamy material, gyrating her hips upward to 
encourage Junior's steady barrage of cock-to-cunt action. 

Tony Mondor deserves a medal ... Lisa thought, watching him kneeling over 
the action. Since she did not have a medal handy, she beamed a smile at him, 
removing one hand from Junior's buttocks to give the more mature man's cock 
a quick and very appreciative squeeze. When it came to thrills via sex-Tony 
Mondor seemed to be making a career of it, always ready for the action. Tony 
was ever so thoughtful, she told herself. Rather than have Junior experience 
his first lay on the couch or floor, he had quickly spread an inflatable 
circular raft on the floor-which he "just happened to have handy in the 
closet." 

When it came to sexual preparedness-Tony Mondor deserved an A-plus. 

"Oh, give it to her!" Tony encouraged Junior. Down on his knees, steadily 
stroking his own cock, Tony actually seemed content to be the spectator, 
continually circling the foamy arena. Almost like a referee, eyes fixed on 
the two wrestlers on the mat, watching for a foul or a victory. 

"Oh, fuck that cunt, Junior-boy-fuck it, fuck it!" 

Oh, yes," Lisa chimed in, throwing her hips up fully as she felt the young 
man's cock slamming within the very core of her. "Do like the man says fuck 
me, fuck me, just keep right on fucking me!" 

"You're working like an old pro," Tony informed the handsome young man with 
the extremely sensitive features. "A real fucking pro! 

Lisa stopped the gyrating movement of her hips, turning the entire action 
over to Junior, sensing his need to be the dominating force. She could 
hardly believe that this was his first time up to bat. She wet her lips, 
letting the cock-to-cunt action swirl within her. She managed a smile, 
realizing that she was performing a service for Junior-the very same service 
she had performed for her son. 

"The first fuck ... " she inwardly murmured, suddenly realizing how 
important that had to be to a young man. Especially to a sensitive young man 
who might be easily frightened about his ability to function like a "real 
man." The world of men wasn't totally populated with Tony Mondor, men who 
naturally take to sex, having that seemingly inborn ability to overpower 
women. 

Lisa relaxed, letting Junior handle all the action, his hands now circling 
her buttocks, his fingers probing into the crack of her ass. Junior seemed 
to be a new person now, riding high in his sexual saddle. Lisa shuddered for 
a brief moment, recalling how it almost did not come about. Junior was so 
unbelievably tense getting the action started. 

"Is it going in?" he had asked, pushing it generally in the area of her 
love-slit. 

"Easy does it," she had purred in his ear. 

"Like this?" he had asked, positioned much too high for a good entry into 
her vagina. "Is it okay?" 

"Easy now..." she had smiled, instantly bending over, almost doubled up, 
flicking quick kisses on the head of his cock. "Let me guide it in for you," 
she whispered. "Just as soon as I give it a little more natural 
lubrication," she had added, quickly running her mouth up and down the shaft 
of hard cock. "Easy does it," she had repeatedly purred, aiming the head of 
his cock directly into the start of her slippery love slit, positioning him 
perfectly over her. "Easy does it...." 

And "easy" had done it, perfectly bringing Junior's cock into Lisa's 
delightful pussy. It wasn't long either before Junior experienced the most 
satisfying climax of his short sexual career. 

After that, all three of them sat back for a while as an exciting new idea 
came to all of them. Why not save the marriage by making it a regular 
threesome. "Trailism" it's called. 

Lisa was the first to voice her thoughts. The others agreed. It would take a 
while to make it all really practical. And Timmy would have to be told. But 
the idea sounded just fine. Half-gay, half-straight was just fine. Maybe 
sometimes there'd be another pussy for Lisa to delight in. 

This was true liberation. It was more than the three could do to resist 
getting right back into another bout of sexual emancipation. Which is just 
what they did.
