A TEACHER'S EDUCATION
By Nancy Reynolds


Foreword

When a sensuous woman has enjoyed many years of a satisfying marriage, and then her
husband dies, leaving her bereft not only of his love, financial support and the various
small comforts which go to make up a rewarding relationship, but also sexual
fulfillment, what is the woman to do? She can find a job and satisfy her financial needs;
she can maintain her home and, in case she has a child, she can attempt to rear her
child to the best of her ability. Or, as often happens, she can marry again.
However, some women find a second marriage almost unthinkable. Perhaps they have
shared a "perfect" relationship with their husband, and thus are unable to accept
another man as measuring up to the high standards she has been used to, and perhaps
she loved so deeply that she is unable to do other than "remain true" to the memory of
her dead husband.
Such is the case with Eva Burr in this novel! Teacher's Education, by Nancy Reynolds.
When her husband, Ben, died, leaving her with a ten year old daughter Myra, the
widow went back to teaching and managed to keep her home together. She also reared
her daughter to the best of her ability instilling in her the same moral precepts she had
been taught and found to be "right". However, she has entirely neglected the sexual
side of her own life... and, as countless psychiatrists and psychologists have discovered,
sexuality is not to be denied. Sexual needs can be repressed or ignored, but eventually
they will clamor for satisfaction in one way or another.
Eva Burr confidently believed that she could live out the remainder of her years without
fulfilling these needs... that is, until she was suddenly brought face-to-face with the
budding sexual drives of her own daughter. This sudden confrontation causes all the
mother's carefully worked-out rationalizations to crumble. How she handles her new
awareness of her sexual needs is the subject of A Teacher's Education:
Ms. Reynolds thoughtfully depicts her desperate attempts to rebuild her shell of
complacency... to no avail. Her final solution to her problem is unorthodox, but, given
her years of ruthless repression, it is perhaps inevitable. We feel sure that mature
readers will welcome A Teacher's Education by Nancy
Reynolds as a thought-provoking addition to their library of contemporary mores.
-The Publishers


Chapter 1

The late afternoon air, heavy with the blended fragrance of honeysuckle and lilac from
the sprawling backyard garden below, drifted headily through the open window of
Myra Burr's bedroom. A warm late spring breeze blowing in off Lake Michigan caught
the lace curtains, rippling them, blowing them aside. Anyone in the backyard could
easily see into the bedroom.
Instinctively, because her mother had warned her to always make sure that no one was
watching before she disrobed, Myra stepped to the window to look outside. It was only
natural that her mother would be cautious, since she and Myra lived all alone in this
two-story frame house, in the suburban Milwaukee area of West Agate. Myra's father
had died almost five years ago and it hadn't been easy for Eva Burr to raise a daughter
like Myra on her own, a high-spirited girl who had begun to develop physically at
thirteen and now at the age of fifteen had the body of an eighteen year old, with breasts
that many a mature woman would have been proud to possess.
It was particularly difficult, because Eva didn't want her daughter to be deprived of any
of the things a girl like her would have if her father had been alive. This meant that Eva
had been forced to return to teaching, take a job in the local junior high school, which
in turn necessitated leaving Myra alone at home every weekday afternoon and often at
night when it was necessary for her to attend meetings mandatory to her job.
Halting at the window, Myra, wearing only a bright red halter and white tennis shorts,
looked out into the backyard. No one was out there. But in the yard next door,
separated by a high wooden fence, she could see Duke, the Holden's handsome, fullblooded, 
male German shepherd. Actually Duke belonged to Earl, the Holden's son, and was Earl's 
constant companion, except when the youth went some place where dogs weren't allowed.
Duke was sprawled out on his belly on the ground in front of his doghouse, his big
intelligent-looking head resting on his forepaws, long ears standing semi-alert, listening
for the slightest sound that might be foreign to him. Myra always felt a sense of
security, knowing that Duke was close by; confident that if anyone did try to enter the
house, or attempt to attack her, he would be right there to her rescue.
Looking at Duke now, Myra wondered, as she had so many times in the past, what
dogs thought of people. Duke, for instance; Myra thought he was just about the most
beautiful animal she had ever seen, sleek and powerful. Often she had wished he
belonged to her instead of to Earl. What, she wondered, did Duke think of her? Did
dogs have reactions toward people, aside from instinctive likes and dislikes? Could they
distinguish between men and women and if so, did the difference in sex make any
difference to them... give rise to possible prurient desires?
As Myra left the window and walked toward the full-length mirror fastened at the back
of her door, she wondered if it would have any effect on Duke if he were here with her
now, watching as she reached up behind and unhooked her halter. She pulled it off and
rubbed the red marks on her skin left by the binding. Her nipples felt itchy and large;
the breeze from the open window causing them to harden and stiffen into tight
rosiness. She smiled to herself as her hands slipped over her breasts, cupping them to
give them a brief but possessive fondling.
She remembered how embarrassed she was when her breasts first started to develop a
couple of years ago. How she tried to hide them by wearing a tight bandeau and then
an even tighter bra. But all that had changed in two short years. Now as she lifted her
breasts, testing their resiliency and juicy weightiness, she was delighted with their 
size and shape. It gave her a tremendous jolt to see how they affected members of the
opposite sex.
Just this afternoon, for instance, during tennis instructions that her mother insisted she
take a couple of times a week, so she could "keep up with the Joneses", Myra saw how
many returns Roy, the tennis coach, missed as he watched her boobs bounce around
under her halter, instead of following his own rule and "keeping his eye on the ball".
When he halted the set and stood behind her to correct a pitch in her serve, she could
feel the heat and hardness of the erection she'd caused him, against her thinly clad
buttocks. She was sure it would have taken only the slightest encouragement on her
part, for Roy to have invited her to his private office in the clubhouse and taken her
virginity. Not that she would have particularly minded, in spite of the fact he was twice
her age. His dark good looks and tall broad-shouldered body made him a target for
almost every girl who took instructions from him. But it was another rule of her
mother's by which she abided.
In spite of the fact that there were sex education classes right in the school where Eva
Burr taught, she puritanically insisted, "Nice girls do not have sexual experiences until
after they're married. Even then, it is not necessary for a woman to give vent to her true
feelings."
So Myra followed her mother's advice and at fifteen was still a virgin, even though
many of her girl friends, some even younger than she, had already engaged in
intercourse. Not that it had always been easy for her.
There had been times when boys kissed her and ran their eager hands over her body, and
Myra got so hot she had all she could do to keep from letting them go the limit with
her. There were other times like this afternoon, when all she had to do was to know
that she had aroused someone like she did her tennis coach, to feel like a horny little
harlot. The knowledge that Earl, the boy next door, was coming over tonight to take
her to a drive-in movie didn't make it any easier.
Even though Earl was almost four years older than Myra and due to start college in the
fall, her mother had no qualms about Myra going out with him. After all, they'd known
each other since they were toddlers and Eva felt if he couldn't be trusted, no one could
be.
What she didn't know and Myra wasn't about to tell was that Earl was not nearly as
innocent as he appeared to be. It was Earl who had taught Myra how to kiss openmouthed, 
to accept his tongue. A couple of times, she had allowed him to slip a hand
down inside the neckline of her dress and beneath her bra to fondle her voluptuous
young breasts. Once or twice, too, she had permitted his hand to creep upward along
her thighs and under her skirt to feel her moist pussy-lips through her panties. Each
time, she stopped him before he brought her to orgasm, or managed to get his fingers
inside her panties. Not because she didn't want him to. She was afraid. Afraid that if
things went that far, she'd never be able to turn off. She'd want him to go all the way
and that would be disobeying her mother, going against all the things her mother had
taught her were right.
She didn't want that to happen. She didn't want to disobey her mother. Because she
knew all the sacrifices her mother had made for her; how she taught school even during
the summer vacation, so that Myra could have all the things that other girls had. But it
was getting harder and harder for Myra to fight against her emotions.
How her mother had been able to refrain from sex for the five years since her husband
died, Myra found it impossible to understand and Myra was sure she had refrained.
Aside from Qyde Thomas, who had been a close friend of the family for as long as
Myra could remember, Myra couldn't recall her mother even going out with another
man. Maybe her mother was different than she was sexually? Maybe her mother was
one of those women who could do without sex? Certainly, Myra knew she wasn't and
never could be.
Even now, as she undid the clasp on her snug tennis shorts, slowly pulled the zipper
down and let the shorts slide down her shapely legs, she felt a tingling in her belly. The
fine black hair that covered the rounded bulge of her mons contrasted sharply with the
paleness of her belly and upper thighs that her shorts protected from the sun. It seemed
darker than the long, black hair atop her head, tightly curled and thicker.
Myra wondered, was the girl in the mirror really her? It seemed only yesterday that she
was flat-chested and scrawny, like a spavin-legged colt; her veneris smooth of hair. She
let her gaze travel slowly up her superbly-rounded legs, turning at the waist for a view
of her well-defined and polished buttocks. She took hold of her breasts again and
squeezed them. Even the touch of her own hands excited her, made her wonder how
much longer she must remain a virgin, keep the secrets of her lovely young body to
herself? Except in a bikini, or in the girl's locker room at school, no one had ever seen
her abundance of youthful feminine charms and girls didn't count. She wanted to share
her complete nakedness with a member of the opposite sex; wanted to excite him and
make him touch her, as she was touching herself now.
Wistfully, she dropped her hands to her sides and started toward the bathroom.
Halfway there, she remembered Duke in the yard next door. She couldn't help but
wonder what his reaction would be if he saw her like this, entirely nude? Would it have
any affect on him at all? Would a dog be aware whether or not a person had any
clothes on? Would he know the difference between the naked body of a man or a girl?
Almost without being aware of what she was doing, Myra stepped to the open window.
Holding aside the curtains so they would not blow back against her. or obstruct the
view, she stood there, brazenly naked, at the window and whistled softly.
She saw the dog lift its head with a slight start. She whistled again, a trifle louder. Duke
followed the sound with his eyes and saw her standing there at her upstairs bedroom
window. He climbed to his feet and shook himself fully awake, never taking his gaze off
her.
Even from the distance, she could see his powerful flanks, the huge male organ that
hung down from his hairy belly. It wasn't the first time she had noticed his oversized
tool, the way it swung back and forth when he walked. But this was the first time she
could ever remember almost wishing she were a female dog.
Still framed in the open window, Myra cupped her vibrant breasts again, her nipples
spiked by the gentle breeze. She saw Duke start to wag his tail when he recognized her,
and he moved closer to the tall fence that separated the two yards. It gave her a strange
excitement to be standing there stark naked even if only in front of a dog. She rubbed
her thighs together, trying to ease the growing tension she felt between them, as she
ran her hands sensuously down over her body.
OH, DUKE... IF ONLY YOU WERE UP HERE INSTEAD OF DOWN THERE IN
THE YARD... I JUST MIGHT BE TEMPTED TO LET YOU!
Suddenly she caught hold of herself. What was she thinking about? Quickly, she backed
away from the window as Duke began to bark.
"It's okay, Duke," she called down to him, her voice tight with emotion. "It's all right,
fella, go back and lie down."
She let the curtains fall back into place as she turned, hurried into the bathroom and
locked the door on Duke's continued barking. She leaned for a moment with her back
against the closed door, her senses whirling. Whatever had made her even begin to
think of having intimate relations with a dog? Even one as big and handsome and of
almost human intelligence, the way Duke was. It was as if some devil had taken
momentary possession of her mind and body for her to even consider such a perverted
thing. She had to make herself believe that she had never even entertained such an
improbable possibility.
It was a good thing that she had to hurry and get ready for her date with Earl. Her
mother would be home shortly and they'd have dinner. It wouldn't be long afterwards
that Earl would call for her. As usual, they'd probably go for a short drive until it got
dark. Then they'd go to the movies. She couldn't help but wonder what Earl would
think if he even suspected she had such an evil thought about his dog?
Myra started the water running for her bath. Then, while the tub was filling, she
brushed her teeth, as even and white as two rows of perfectly matched pearls. She had
to wipe the mirror free of the steam which was rapidly spreading over the glass.
The tub was filled now and Myra turned off the taps. Before stepping into her bath, she
paused to again admire the shapeliness of her young body in the half-length wall
mirror. The reflection was half-obscured by the rising steam, which only served to
enhance and add a touch of veiled mystery to Myra's lovely vision.
It was not conceit for Myra to be aware that she had above-average beauty, with
features that were in perfect symmetry. It was all right there for her to see in the
looking-glass. Her violet-blue eyes, big and curious, behind naturally long lashes. Her
mouth, a miracle in itself, sensuously shaped with a lower Up that was full and ripe. All
this framed by extremely long, sleek black hair that fell in a brazen swirl around the
white column of her neck and onto her slight shoulders.
She stretched up on her toes to her entire five feet three inches, that enabled her to see
just barely the dark patch of black hair at her loins in the mirror. Impulsively, Myra
gave the glass a thorough wipe then stepped back again. She could see herself more
clearly now though the mirror quickly clouded over again.
Without further ado, she took a nylon shower cap from its hook and tucked her long
black hair up under it, then she climbed into the tub and let the hot water cover her
body completely, sinking down until the caressing warmth lapped around her neck.
Before reaching for the soap, Myra lay there, stretching luxuriously in the sensuous feel
of the water. She took the soap finally and ran it over her body and limbs, opening her
legs and letting the suds flood her sex. She could feel the perfumed water steal between
her partly open pussy lips and seep into her body.
With her chin resting on the surface of the water, Myra allowed her hands to steal to
her breasts. They felt so much softer and smoother beneath the warm water, the flesh
more delicate and sensitive. With careful manipulations of her fingers, she stroked and
fondled them, giving her nipples only the lightest of touches, the most tender of
caresses.
Myra's eyes closed in sweet ecstasy as she felt how large her nipples had grown. As she
explored her tits, cautiously squeezing the buds between thumbs and forefingers, she
recalled how pleasant it had been when Earl put his hand down inside her bra and
fondled her. The memory incited her further, caused her to increase the pressure of her
own fingers, slowly nipping the hard push-button-like nubs until a sensation of pleasant
pain began spreading through her breasts, enveloping her entire body in a sweet but
urgent delight.
Her eyes opened a little and, looking down, she could see the clever way her hands
were bringing her pleasure. They seemed now to be the hands of a stranger, who had
boldly climbed into the tub with her and was playing expertly with her breasts and
nipples.
Making herself believe that she was powerless to intervene, Myra watched helplessly as
her hands turned her prematurely large breasts this way and that, lifting them almost
out of the water so that the pink, swollen nipples were clearly visible, then lowering
them beneath the surface again. Under the relentless, artful pinching and massaging,
her nipples began to itch maddeningly... begging for release... yet wanting the caress to
continue... 
Myra could feel her eyes growing hot and misty, clouding with passion. Her mouth felt
dry in spite of the drops of water that splattered her lips and she could hear her labored
breathing.
Slowly, deliciously, she rubbed her right palm downward over her right breast and let it
slide down over her slippery smooth belly until her fingers touched the tight curl of
pubic hair. Earl had touched her down there, too. But always outside her panties. No
hands, except her own, had ever probed her precious treasure, as they were promising
to do now.
Even though the soapy water hid their action from view, Myra felt her fingers moving
in ever widening circles over her furry veneris, venturing closer and closer to the warm,
pink edges of the slit between her parted thighs.
Umm, it feels so good... But I'll bet Earl's fingers would feel even better... If only I dared
let him go underneath my panties... Let him really touch me down there... But I know
I'd never be able to stop once he did... and that would be disobeying mother... and I
don't want to do that... But my poor little pussy's so hot... I don't know what's gotten
into me today... Was it feeling Roy's big hard thing against my buttocks... or thinking
about what it would be like with Duke... but I know if Earl tries to touch me down
there tonight, III never be able to stop him... unless... unless... 
She groaned audibly as her hand came suddenly in contact with the velvety warmth of
her throbbing cunt. She bent her knees upward beneath the water and spread her
thighs wider apart, her extended middle finger sending her into a delirium of. pleasure,
as it slid easily between the eager, moistly heated lips of her vagina and into her
precious sex itself.
It must be the water that aroused her so much. Because of the few times she had
fingered herself in the past, she had never felt so hot before in her life. With some
trepidation, she wondered if she should continue. But by now she was too deeply
enmeshed in the ecstatic delirium of her autoeroticism to be able to stop, and as her
middle finger, joined now by her index finger, buried deeper into her eagerly tingling
hole, her concern completely vanished.
By comparison, the water that only a few moments ago had been so hot now felt cool
against her burning cunt. Cool and delightful between her steaming thighs, bringing
her a kind of rolling whirlpool of desire.
Her left hand had come down now to join her right hand, the fingers of her left
spreading apart the widening lips of her sticky wet pussy, so that the fingers of her right
hand could search for and find the stiff, ultra-sensitive button of her wildly throbbing
clitoris. After a moment she left her clit and began sliding these two stiffly-erect fingers
slowly in and out of her well-oiled slot, as if they were a man's pulsing cock.
Leaning her head back so that it rested against the back of the tub, she closed her eyes
and let herself drift away into imagine. It was Earl's cock going in and out of her, as she
lay sprawled out on the back seat of his car. Now it was Roy, her tennis-coach. He had
succeeded in enticing her into his office, pulled down her shorts and was driving his
weapon in and out of her maddeningly tight hole. Somewhere along the line, she
envisioned Duke's furry, silver-gray body sandwiched between her shapely white thighs,
his bright red pestle deep in her vagina, his powerful hindquarters making fucking
motions, the way she'd seen him do in the backyard, from time to time.
Her knees were held high now, completely out of the water with the rest of her body
submerged in the turbulent waters. Her facial muscles were twisted into a mask of
heavenly torture. Then she moaned with unchecked sensual pleasure as she slipped still
another stiffened digit into her open-lipped, bubbly-hot cunt, while the fingers of her
free hand now rolled the tiny, fleshy, pearl-like knob of her clit round and round with a
steady rotating motion. She could feel the tension mounting as her orgasm began to
catch on... just another moment... just one more!
"Oooh... Ahhh!" she let out a loud gasp, not caring if the entire neighborhood heard
her as a volcano of carnal sensations exploded in her belly and sent volts of ecstasy
charging along her spine and into her brain. She lay there tight and tense with only her
head showing now above the water, as a blissful warmth filled her body. For a long
time, she wasn't even able to think. Then, finally, almost with reluctance, Myra took
her fingers from the still-pulsing warmth of her spasming pussy. But she continued to
lie there silent and motionless in the water, until the anesthetizing effects of her 
selfinflicted climax had receded.
When at last she regained her composure, though still somewhat shaken by her violent
release, she lathered her long, black hair hurriedly as the sun outside the frosted-glass
bathroom window sank lower and lower behind the treetops. She had thought that
fingering herself would relieve the tension inside her, that an orgasm would quiet her
yearning. Instead, to her surprise, as she rinsed the suds from her tresses, then got out
of the tub and dried herself off, her body ached with an even more frightening
urgency... hungry, voracious, demanding! What the night ahead with Earl might hold
for her excited her, then frightened her, and she fought to discharge it from her mind
as she hurried into her bedroom to dress for dinner and her date.


Chapter 2

Despite her thirty-four years, Eva Burr had managed to retain more than a semblance
of her fading youth, and it was easy to see from whom Myra had inherited her dark
beauty and sensuous figure, although Eva made no effort to bring out either her good
looks or her shapeliness. As Myra suspected, her mother had excluded sex from her life,
ever since the death of her husband Myra's father five years ago.
However, Myra wondered if her mother had ever truly enjoyed sex, even during the
twelve years that her husband had been there if her response pattern hadn't always been
very low and she just used the death of her husband as an excuse to further her sexual
disinclination. Maybe with the hope that she could make Myra the same way, perhaps
even create a pseudo-frigidity in the girl, so that she would have no need or desire for
me? If so, it was wishful thinking. Because right now, at fifteen, Myra was ripe and
ready and eager to be plucked.
As usual, shortly after five p.m., Myra's mother came home from school. Myra had
already started dinner so that they could eat early, wash and put away the dishes, and
she could be ready when Earl called. But her mother told her, "I'm afraid you're going
to have to do the dishes alone tonight, Myra darling. The teacher's union has called an
urgent meeting to vote on whether we strike now before school closes for the summer
or wait until fall. So I'm afraid you'll have to extend my apologies to Earl for not being
home when he gets here."
The wheels inside Myra's head began turning. "How late will you be Mother?" she
asked hopefully.
Eva shrugged. "As long as the speeches and balloting last which certainly won't make it
very early."
Myra felt a familiar tingling in her belly. Because it meant that instead of going to a
drive-in movie, she had Earl could stay right here at home and watch television and
have the whole house to themselves. Although on second thought, Myra wondered if
that would be such a smart idea. Feeling the way she did, aroused and far from satisfied
by what had happened in the tub this afternoon, anything might happen.
For dinner, Myra and her mother finished the lamb roast they'd had the previous
Sunday. During the meal Myra said, "I think I'll save this bone for Duke."
"Tsk," her mother responded, shaking her head with mild disapproval. "I wish Earl
wouldn't bring that big dirty dog into our house."
"Why, Mother, Duke is cleaner than lots of people," the girl argued in the dog's
defense. "Earl gives him a bath every couple of weeks."
"Dogs have fleas, and fleas are germ-carriers," Eva retorted.
"Duke can't have fleas," Myra contended. "He has a brand new flea collar."
"Well, he still gets hair all over the place," her mother persisted. A few minutes later,
she got up from the table and went up to her room to dress for the teacher's meeting
and left Myra to clear the table wash and dry the dishes and put them away.
Eva kissed her daughter good-bye and left the house shortly after seven. The moment
she was gone, Myra hurried up the stairs to wash her face, comb her hair and put
whatever finishing touches were necessary to her dress and to the sparing makeup her
mother permitted her to wear.
She studied herself for several minutes in the full-length mirror. The dark skirt she was
wearing certainly was snug and short enough, showing several inches of her shapely
bare thighs above the knees. She wished she didn't have to wear a bra. But the button
down-the-front white blouse she had chosen to wear was so sheer that her nipples and
areolas would have been clearly visible without a bra. Enough that the rising swell of
her breasts could be seen overflowing the cups of her bra, and to add to the intrigue,
she opened the top three buttons of her blouse to afford a glimpse of her deep, exciting
cleavage.
It was during these final preparations that the doorbell rang. Myra slipped her feet into
the tall white high heels that she'd borrowed from her mother's closet. She didn't own a
pair of heels of her own. Her mother thought that fifteen was just a little too young for
a girl to start wearing them so Myra had to take them when her mother was out. She
took a final look at her legs in the mirror, front back and side view. The heels made her
look taller, older, sexier and definitely gave added shape to her already gorgeous legs.
The ringing of the doorbell was repeated as Myra hurried out of the bedroom and down
the stairs. She unlocked and opened the front door and smiled up prettily at Earl
standing on the threshold.
Earl Holden measured well over six feet, slim except for the wide shoulders that bulged
beneath his flowered, open-necked sports shirt. He had straight blond hair that he wore
mod-style, long in back with a fuzz of blond sideburns that followed the line of his
strong, bulldog chin. Earl had passéd his nineteenth birthday that past May, would
graduate from high school in June and had accepted a football scholarship that would
take him East to one of the big Ivy League colleges in the fall.
"H'ya," Myra greeted him warmly, aware of a quiet fluttering in her stomach as she
craned to look up at him.
He returned the greeting and smiled broadly as he slowly perused her up-thrust breasts
so boldly revealed through her thin blouse. They never hugged or kissed in the open
doorway, like this. After all, there were the neighbors to consider. It just wouldn't look
right for a fifteen year old girl to smooch with a young man almost four years her
senior. Besides, it would hurt his image, since many considered him the personification
of the clean-cut Ail-American boy. The kind of young man they'd like their own
daughters to go out with.
Myra opened the door a little wider for him to enter and was about to ask him about
Duke when she saw the big silver-gray animal lower his leg after sprinkling his favorite
bush on the lawn and come bounding toward her up the walk. Duke wagged his tail
furiously and made his usual whining sounds of delight at seeing her, pushing his
pointed snout between her legs. A little shiver swept through her at the touch of his
cold, wet nose against the bare flesh of her short-skirted thighs. With sudden
embarrassment, she wondered if it were possible that Duke remembered how she
looked standing at the open window, stark naked? Guiltily, she pulled back from him
without even the usual friendly pat of his head.
The big German shepherd looked up at her, bewilderedly, as if unable to understand
why she had pulled back from him so quickly. In the past, she always liked him to rub
his snout against her legs and hips and then nuzzle her pubic bone while she stroked
his head and rubbed her ears.
Turning, Myra led the way into the living room with Earl and the dog following after.
When they got there, Earl halted before the big upholstered sofa that was pushed back
against the wall, facing the color TV set. From this vantage point he could see there was
no one in the dining room or in the kitchen. He listened for the sound of someone
upstairs.
He frowned slightly and as sort of a half-question, said, "I don't see your mother?"
"She had to go to a teacher's meeting," Myra told him. "Probably won't be back until
very late." She paused, then added, "We don't really have to go to a movie if you don't
want to. We can stay here and watch television."
Earl's still boyish face lighted up. This was a break he hadn't counted on the two of
them all alone in the house. With, of course, the exception of Duke. He took a step
toward Myra, put his arms around her and pulled her close to him, bringing his face
down to meet her mouth.
Myra let her curvaceous young body mold to his hardness. At the same time, she parted
her lips the way he'd shown her to kiss and accepted his scalding tongue that slithered
serpent-like into her mouth, engaging her own tongue in sensuous play. The kiss
caused a moist heat to spring up in her loins. She could feel the effect it had on him,
too, as his penis began to harden and throb against her thinly-covered belly.
Myra remembered it wasn't too long ago that the stiffening of a male penis had alarmed
and appalled her. But now it was a sensation that she had come to accept, even look
forward to. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was responsible for the arousal that
gave her a strange sense of conquest. But whether it was Earl, her tennis instructor, or
just some boy she was dancing with, she never failed to get a thrill out of their erection
even if she pretended not to notice or acted chagrined or even a little annoyed if they
got too bold and tried to go any further.
Slowly, Myra could feel all reality slip away from her as his tongue continued to tease
and seduce her senses. At the same time, she was aware of his hands leaving her
shoulders to slide down to her waist then reaching behind her to grasp her buttocks
lightly and bring her body still closer then pressing until a fusion was almost reached.
She had to gasp for breath, and while she loved the feel of him against her, she knew it
was happening too fast, much too fast. It wasn't giving her time to think clearly, and
that was dangerous.
Using all the strength in her body as well as her last ounce of willpower, she broke the
kiss and pushed away from him, her breasts moving spasmodically against his powerful
chest. He looked down at her with the same bewildered expression Duke had assumed
when she pushed his head from between her bare thighs.
"Anything wrong?" Earl asked her, looking down at her.
She heard Duke behind her and shifted her eyes to him. Duke was still searching the
big room, jogging here and there, thrusting his nose into dark comers and behind the
furniture, familiarizing himself with the place he had visited so many times before.
Myra gathered her thoughts together quickly and used the dog as an excuse for her
inconsistent behavior. "I... I feel embarrassed with Duke watching us."
Earl frowned. "Him being around never bothered you before. He's slept on the back
seat at the drive-in or even when we stopped and parked."
Myra shrugged meaninglessly. "Now it's different, somehow. I mean being here alone. I
feel funny."
Earl's spirits sank a little. Hell, it wasn't going to be much fun if she was going to act
like that. Disappointedly but still cavalierly, he asked, "Would you feel better if we went
to a movie?"
"Oh no," Myra replied quickly. "It's just that..." Suddenly, she remembered, "I know I
saved a lamb bone for him."
Earl, with renewed hope, let her go.
"Come, Duke, I have something for you," she called out as she hurried into the kitchen
with the dog loping at her heels. She went directly to the refrigerator, opened the door
and took the bone from one of the shelves where she had stored it. She held it high
over her head. "Speak!"
The big German shepherd sniffed as if determining whether it was worth "speaking"
for. Obviously it appealed to his sense of smell because he let out a loud "Ruff!" and
then stood on his hind legs to reach it.
Standing this way, Myra could again appreciate what a tremendous animal he was,
almost as tall as she, the muscles in his powerful legs and trim body rippling under his
fur. Again, too, she was at a loss to understand why the hairy sheath and great shiny
black sacs between the dog's hind legs fascinated and stirred her so.
At that moment as she released the bone and watched Duke clamp it between his
powerful jaws and make off with it, Myra was aware of Earl's presence directly behind
her. Before she could turn to face him his arms went around her from behind, his
hands cupping her breasts. He pulled her back until she was up close against him. Then
with the side of his face, he brushed aside her long, black hair so he could kiss the back
of her neck, trace the outline of her left ear with his tongue, causing her to writhe and
pant as the first stirrings of real passion hit her. Through the thinness of her skirt and
her gossamer panties, she could feel him fitting his swollen cock, still inside his slacks,
into the deep crease that separated her buttocks, the heat of its knob causing her anus
to pucker.
"Oooooh, Earl," she quaked. "I'm getting those funny feelings in my tummy again.
You're making me feel all hot and wild all tight and tense."
He kept tonguing and kissing her ear, sending shivers dancing along her spine. She
could feel herself getting wetter and wetter, unaware that he was making a slippery
mess of himself also inside his shorts as his right hand moved upward to the
unbuttoned neckline of her blouse. He slid his palm over her throat, downward over
her chest and shoulders and then let it dip down beneath her bra.
His fingers were like live wires to Myra as they glided over her quivering breasts,
showing an accomplished artistry in spite of his youth as they touched her tingling
nipples. She could feel herself vibrating, unable to contain the moan of pleasure he
caused her as he continued to pluck and massage and toy with her pointed nipples.
"Oooohh, Earl... Earl..."
She did not feel his free hand move downward over her belly and lift her skirt. The first
awareness she had that his hand was down there was the delicate caress his fingertips
made on her diaphanous panties.
His reaching fingers sent a half-frightened, half-wanton thrill racing up her spine and
made her moan again. She clenched her thighs together just enough to trap his hand
between them as she turned her head and leaned back so he could reach her lips with
his. The finesse of his knowing contacts slowly began draining her of her strength.
She made no attempt to stop his hand at her breasts, or the one gently stroking her
cuntal lips outside her sopping wet panties until she felt the hand down below try to
work itself inside her panties. Then she stiffened and grasped his left wrist with both
hands as she clenched her thighs together, protectively.
"No," she choked out weakly.
"No?" he echoed, that confused look again in his eyes. It didn't make any damned sense
that she'd let him play with her cunt outside her panties but balked when he tried to
get inside.
Myra kept holding onto his wrist but made no attempt to move away from him. Then
she modified her no considerably. "Not here. Not in the kitchen." She glanced at Duke
who lay some feet away on the checkerboard linoleum, busily gnawing away at what
little meat was left on the lamb bone for all effects and purposes paying not the slightest
attention to them. "Not where he can still see us."
Taking no chances on the mood being broken, Earl swept Myra up bodily from the
floor and holding her in his heavy-muscled arms, carried her into the Uving room.
Before lowering her to the high-backed sofa, he kissed her lips, then her throat, then
the plump white flesh of her breasts to the border of her bra, which stopped him from
sucking her swollen nipples.
Earl placed her down gently on the sofa, then sat beside her. He had a hard-on, the
likes of which he could never remember having before. It stood up like a tent-pole
under his trousers, as if threatening to burst through the material with each mighty
throb. His testicles were starting to ache. What was it they called them "lover's nuts"?
He only hoped he wouldn't have to jack off again tonight, the way he always did after
he left her.
With her pretty, black-thatched head resting against his chest so that he could put one
arm around her shoulders and reach his hand back down inside her bra, they slumped
low on the high-backed Colonial sofa. Then his full hand was under her dark miniskirt
again, between her flawlessly shaped thighs. His long fingers, surprisingly gentle for all
the strength in them from tossing around a football, were rubbing the narrow, wet
crotch of her wispy white nylon panties.
Myra felt a warm itchy glow in her pussy that caused her to twist her head around so
that without disturbing his hands, she could look up into his face. "Why... why do you
like to touch me, Earl?"
He shrugged and paraphrased her question with a question of his own. "Why do you
want me to touch you?"
It was her turn to shrug. "I don't know I guess 'cause it's you?"
And because it makes you feel good, doesn't it?"
She pulled her upper lip tightly across her teeth as if trying to suppress a naughty smile.
"Ummmm-huh..."
"Same reasons apply to me," he said. "I like feeling you because you're you and making
you feel good makes me feel good, too."
That, of course, wasn't the whole answer. He felt more comfortable with her than he
did with any other girl in town. Maybe because they'd known each other so long,
practically grew up together, even if he was several years older than she. He knew she
could be trusted not to blab, no matter what he tried to do to her. At least, she hadn't
so far. He had hopes, too, that in the not too distant future she'd get over her childish
squeamishness and start handling him. Then it would really be worthwhile. Maybe he'd
even get to take her cherry! She was cherry. No question in his mind about that. If she
wasn't, he'd have heard. He knew every boy she ever went out with, and if any of them
ever got into her they'd have bragged about it, the way boys do.
She moved her face up a little so he could kiss her, shivering as that snake-like tongue
of his again slithered into her mouth. Half-consciously she opened her thighs wider to
let his hand have its way.
Earl was quick to take advantage of the way her legs went loose. He eased his fingers to
the elastic thigh-band of her panties and pushed one... then two... then three fingers
underneath. Myra felt a twinge of fear but at the same time was wildly excited. She had
never let anyone, not even him, go this far before.
Earl touched the black bush of pubic hair. It wasn't coarse and kinky like his pubic
hair, blond though his might be. Hers was soft and silky, rich and luxurious, finer than
any mink or sable. He slid his fingers farther under her panties and touched the top of
her slot. He touched the sticky dampness, really turning her on.
She was breathing fast and deeply. She felt his middle finger wade wetly into her cunt.
She was embarrassed that he should find her so flooded with moisture down there. Her
pussy was really excited. She flushed and tried to hide her face beside his neck. But she
made no effort to close her legs.
She let out a little whimper as his broad fingertip brushed over the swollen ultra
sensitive key to her womanhood. The sensation was a sweet burst of exquisiteness. It
felt so much more wonderful to have someone else to it to her than doing it to herself.
She wanted more! She wanted his finger to stay there and keep rubbing her aroused
little clit. But his finger was moving lower, seeking to probe the innermost depths of her
body.
She was too inhibited, too insecure in her knowledge of what was proper at such a
moment to say anything to redirect his fingers.
She could only hope... 
"Wouldn't... wouldn't you like to touch me?" he murmured. It wasn't the first time he'd
tried to get her to do it. But then she never let him go this far before, either. Nor had
he ever seen her so hot, so worked up.
She caught his eyes for a moment, shyly. "You... you really want me to?"
"More than anything," he asserted.
She swallowed. "I... I wouldn't know what to do."
"I'll show you," he said, trying to hide the eager anticipation in his voice. "If you want
I'll take it out for you."
She hid her face against the side of his neck again.
"But I won't look!"
"You don't have to look if you don't want to," he assured her. He paused for her last
word. When none came, he withdrew his moist fingers from between her legs. He
unfastened the talon at the top of his slacks, slid open the zipper, reached through the
opening and brought forth his big, man-sized cock.
Myra tensed at the momentary silence, then asked, "Is... is it out?"
"All yours," he confirmed, then put his hand back up under her short skirt. Only this
time he approached his goal from the top. He slid his hand over her hot, marble-like
smooth stomach, stretching the elastic waistband so he could work his fingers down
inside. She had even more hair covering her pubic mound that he had suspected. But
that only made the approach to her vagina more interesting, more exciting.
Myra moaned softly as she felt Earl's middle and index fingers slide into her cunt,
squeezing their way between the spongy, clinging wet walls. He touched the fragile taut
membrane that was her hymen, that told him she was still a virgin.
One of his fingertips found a natural rent and wedged through it, working deeper into
her cunt. She grew a little frightened that he might hurt her and almost told him to
stop. But the football-incurred callous at the base of one of his intruding fingers grazed
over her clitoris and she gasped again. Her hips pressed upward eagerly against his
hand, sustaining the sensation, while she made an impulsive grasp for his rampant
penis sticking out of his open fly like some giant snake emerging from its nest.
It was the first cock she had ever touched, and to her amazement, it felt good in her
small pale hand. She held her hand perfectly still for several long moments as if her
hand were paralyzed. Then slowly she worked up courage enough to squeeze the fat
length; then she began a slow, instinctive stroking of the spongy shaft.
Earl closed his eyes for a moment, "Ooooh, that feels good... so good... you've got the
touch, Myra... the magic touch..."
She continued the slow stroking of his cock, venturing her first glimpse of it. Her
senses whirled and instead of turning away, she gazed fixedly at his manhood, so
intriguing and exciting as her hand slid the loose foreskin high up over the glistening,
purplish wet head and then down to expose the bright glans again.
"Kiss me," he whispered.
She closed her eyes and gave him her open, hot mouth. Their tongues touched and
moans came up from their throats as they continued to work on each other with hands
and fingers. Myra was getting dizzy and shivery. Her belly was getting a funny tight
feeling deep inside and her clit was grazing up and down over his finger. Of all the
times she'd rubbed herself down there, it had never brought her a glow like this. She
was actually radiating!
And then she sensed a third party on the sofa with them. She opened her eyes and saw
Duke. His eyes looked hot, and he was panting and sniffing at her blouse, excitedly.
She remembered standing at the open window this afternoon in her complete nudity,
teasing him. Was it possible, he remembered, or had the scent of their heat drawn his
attention away from the bone on which they'd left him gnawing in the kitchen.
Instead of being frightened, she felt some strange compassion for the dog, some strange
desire to let him share in the good things that were happening to her. Her breasts
suddenly felt enormous and maddeningly constricted in her bra. The itchiness in her
nipples was like a centipede doing a crazy dance on each one. She shivered more
strongly, panting furiously. Earl's hand wasn't nearly doing them justice, satisfying the
urgency in them. She wanted them licked. Without being consciously aware of what she
was doing, Myra ripped open the buttons at the front of her blouse and pulled at her
bra until it snapped and her breasts sprang free.
Myra felt the heat of the dog's breath on her flesh. The next instant she jerked back in
surprise and shock as the dog's hot, wet tongue shot out and licked her naked left
breast.
"Oh, no!" the startled girl said in involuntary reaction as Duke's moistly heated tongue
scraped over her already swollen nipple, sending a shock-wave of raw pleasure through
her body. Myra pushed backwards against Earl trying to escape the insistently nuzzling
dog.
Earl, concentrating on finger-fucking Myra's pussy, suddenly became cognizant of what
was happening. He saw what the dog was doing.
"What the hell?" he exclaimed. "Is this competition?" Then he laughed amusedly.
"Want me to make him stop?"
"Yes," Myra choked out, trying half-heartedly to push Duke's head away from her
naked, tingly breasts.
Then Earl's hands joined hers in pushing at the dog's big, strong head. "Okay, Duke.
Stop it! Cut it out!"
The dog drew back, a confused look in his eyes. Why did they want him to stop? A
strange emotion stirred in the animal's big heart. There was something strangely
exciting about this semi-naked human female in the delightful symphony of pink and
milky-white flesh before him. He remembered seeing her standing that way this
afternoon in the window, whistling to him, exciting him and then telling him to go
back and lie down. Now she had bared that beautiful smooth, pale flesh to him again,
allowed him to taste its soft, stimulating sweetness, then make him stop. Would he ever
understand humans?
"Get down off the sofa, Duke!" Myra heard Earl say.
The dog started to obey, hurt.
"No!" Myra cried out, half-crazed now with passion as Earl continued finger-fucking
her. A big hot flower with bright pink petals was opening in her loins, spilling her
juices. She held up her breasts to the dog.
Earl didn't argue. If she wanted the dog to share in their pleasure... 
"Ooooh... ummm," Myra crooned as Duke returned his hot, wet tongue to her nipples,
licking and slavering all over them, moving impartially from one to the other, arousing
her as she had never been aroused before. She could feel the delicious and sensuous
warmth emanating from her breasts and in her vagina, stealing through her tingling
young body, rippling over her virgin flesh in electric waves with each lash of Duke's
long salivary tongue, with each thrust of Earl's long, thick-skinned fingers. Her own
hand was flying now, up and down the length of Earl's cock, trying to bring him off in
a flurry.
He was close. She was close, too. Just a few more strokes of her hands. A few more
swipes of Duke's tongue. A few more stabs of Earl's finger... 
"My good God!" a voice shrilled, shattering the muffled sounds of moaning, suctioning
and slurping, like the report of a pistol. "What in the name of the Almighty is going on
here?"
Everything in the room stopped at once like the frozen frame of a film. Myra, Earl and
the dog, in mute fear, all turned at once to stare at the figure standing in the archway
that led into the hallway the chalk-faced, horrified-looking figure of Myra's mother!


Chapter 3

A last minute decision had been reached by the heads of the teacher's union that its
members would not strike until school opened in the fall. Consequently, the meeting
that Eva Burr planned to attend had been called off, too late to .let her or anyone else
know. Which meant that Eva had turned her car around and come straight home.
So absorbed were Myra, Earl and Duke in their hand, finger and tongue manipulations
on the sofa, that they didn't hear her mother come in. Shocked to a degree of
momentary paralysis, Eva could just stand there in disbelief at the exhibition going on
before her in the living room. Even her vocal chords were unable to function as she
watched her daughter being brought to orgasm by the young man whom she trusted so
much and his dog.
However, in spite of the surprise, the disgust and mental and physical distress the
woman suffered, she could not help but admit to some sexual excitement by what she
was witnessing. Perhaps, if it had not been her daughter on the sofa, she would have
continued to watch until the girl climaxed and Earl shot his load in her hand.
Instead, Eva regained control of her senses and let out the thundering roar that brought
the sexual play on the sofa to a standstill, as the girl, the young man and the dog turned
and focused their gaze on her. It was impossible to say who was the more horrified and
surprised.
"Mother!" Myra blurted out, transfixed.
"Holy Christ!" Earl expostulated under his breath, his cock suddenly drooping like a
parboiled noodle.
The dog just stared for a moment, stunned by the rude interruption. Then quite
unconcerned, he turned to resume his tonguing of the girl's still exposed breasts.
The first swish of his tongue over her nipples stung Myra to sudden realization. With
both hands she pushed away the dog's head, quickly bringing her blouse closed, to
cover her mammaries. But the dog was persistent, nudging his black nose into the
fleshy mounds, licking them through the flimsy material of the blouse.
"Stop! Please stop!" Myra fought helplessly, guiltily, scolding the dog for what she knew
in her heart was partly her own doing.
"Stop it! Stop it this instant, Duke!" her mother roared at the dog. "And get down off
that sofa!"
Duke paused and turned his head again to look at the woman still filling the archway.
He had heard her use that tone of voice before. Once when he was dirtying on the
lawn, she had yelled at him like that and when he didn't move quickly enough, she hit
him with a broom. Now, it only tended to further muddle his confusion about humans
that much more. Why, suddenly was he being made to stop doing something that was
so enjoyable, he couldn't understand. All he knew was that he didn't want that woman
to hit him again. So at the angry sound of her voice, he jumped down from the sofa
and with his ears down and his tail between his legs, he slunk into the kitchen where
he had left his bone.
His master needed no such command, to jump quickly to his feet, tuck his limp penis
back into his slacks and zip up his fly. He dropped his head to try to avoid the older
woman's torrid, reproving gaze.
"I'm ashamed of you, Earl!" she denounced. "A young man your age taking advantage
of a child. A young man with your background. I'm thoroughly ashamed and disgusted
with you. I don't know what your parents are going to say when I tell them about you."
His head bowed, he took the abuse she shoveled on him, in silence. His face was beetred 
with humiliation and every pore in his body was sprouting nervous perspiration.
"It wasn't all Earl's fault, Mother," Myra cut in as, holding the blouse closed over her
breasts with both hands, she arose from the sofa, her skirt falling into place on its own.
"I'm as much to blame as he is."
Her mother's eyes narrowed. "I'll take care of you later, young lady. You get upstairs to
your room."
Myra looked sheepishly at Earl. "I'll... I'll see you to the door."
"You'll do no such thing!" her mother interrupted sharply. "You'll go straight upstairs
to your room."
It looked for a moment as if Myra might be going to argue, but she changed her mind.
Her mother stepped aside so she could go through the archway and up the heavily
carpeted stairs. Earl took that as his cue to hurry past the older woman and head for the
front door.
"You take your disgusting dog with you," Eva snapped at him as he opened the door.
Earl whistled and the dog came jogging through the rooms, the lamb bone held in his
jaws.
"And I'll thank both of you to never come into this house again," Myra's mother fired
at them as a parting shot.
"Yes, ma'am," was all Earl said. Duke didn't even stop to look up at the woman as he
slipped past her and his master closed the door behind them.
Alone, Eva took that moment to grasp the back of one of the chairs to steady her
wobbly knees. She felt for a moment as if she were going to throw up, and she closed
her eyes to ward off the dizziness that assailed her. She tried desperately to blot out the
memory of the depraved scene she had just witnessed. If it had been someone else, it
would have been bad enough. But to see her own daughter, only fifteen years old, in
mutual sex-play, while having her breasts licked by a dog, was just too much for a
mother to endure.
Eva opened her eyes and looked at the sofa. Like an image burned into a TV tube, she
could still see the awful picture of the three of them still sitting there. It tore at her guts
and made her stiffen with mingled anger and heartache. She should have taken Earl
Holden's head and banged it against the wall. She should have taken one of the
andirons from the fireplace and beaten the dog to within an inch of his life for
performing such perverted acts on her baby. If only she could cry, she might have felt
better. But tears wouldn't come.
Finally she went into the kitchen and washed her face. It made her feel a little better but
not much. She looked up at the ceiling. Myra's room was directly overhead. Apparently
the girl had taken off her shoes because Eva couldn't hear her walking around.
She almost dreaded to go upstairs and face her daughter. But it must be done. It was
her duty as a mother to set Myra straight, teach her right from wrong. She thought she
had taught her, but now she knew she was wrong and Myra had to be straightened out
before it was too late.
Resignedly, Eva left the kitchen and went up the short flight of stairs. Myra hadn't
bothered to close her door, so her mother went right into her room. Myra was on the
bed. She had removed her dress and panties and heels and put on a bathrobe that
covered everything except her legs, below the knees.
Eva had expected that she might find her daughter crying, repentant, ready to promise
that she would never do such a thing again. Instead, Myra was sitting up in bed leaning
against a pillow, braced against the headboard, her face defiant, her eyes accusing. Myra
didn't wait for her mother to speak, but opened with her own barrage.
"That was a horrible way for you to act," Myra fired at the older woman. "I'm ashamed
of the way you spoke to poor Earl."
"Ashamed?" her mother echoed, completely taken aback. "You're ashamed of me?"
"Yes!" Myra retorted.
Her mother's face suddenly clouded over and rage shook her, head to toe. "Now you
just listen to me, young lady! What I witnessed down there in the living room, is the
most disgraceful, most disgusting, most inexcusable exhibition I've ever seen in my life.
In all your fifteen years, I've never raised a hand to you. But believe me, if I didn't
know that you're still little more than a baby, wholly incapable of such despicable
things, I'd give you the whipping of your young life. But I know the truth. I know men.
lie put you up to it. He made you act so shamefully depraved." She shook her carefully
coiffured, black thatched head. "And to think I trusted him. Believed he was such a
nice, clean-minded boy. Well, you can be sure he never gets the opportunity to corrupt
any other innocent young girl's morals. I'm going to see to it he's put away where he
can't!"
Myra's violet-blue eyes began to blaze. "You wouldn't dare do such a thing!"
"I wouldn't?" her mother scoffed, narrow-eyed. "You just wait and see."
Then you'll have to put me away, too," the girl retorted. "Because I'm as much to blame
as he is."
"You're just a baby," Eva discharged.
"Stop saying that, mother!" Myra shouted. "I may only be fifteen, but I'm no baby. I
knew exactly what I was doing. Earl didn't put me up to doing anything. I did it
because I wanted to do it."
Eva took a quick step toward the bed and dealt her daughter a stinging blow along the
face with the flat of her hand. Myra jerked back with stunned surprise more than hurt.
She put her fingers to the spot where her mother had struck her. But she didn't cry, or
even whimper. She just kept staring at her mother, stoically.
"I won't have you saying such things," Eva barked. "I won't have you telling lies just to
protect someone who isn't worth it."
Still rubbing the sore spot on the side of her face, Myra retorted, "I'm not lying and I'm
not protecting anyone. I told you I wanted Earl to act the way he did."
"It isn't true," Eva yelled. "I won't have you pretending to be a little a little tramp!"
"A tramp?" Myra repeated. "Because I have feelings like a woman? Or have you
forgotten what it's like to feel like a woman?"
Eva scowled darkly. "I think you're forgetting whom you're talking to, young lady?"
Myra shook her head, insistently. "No, Mother. I just want you to understand how I
feel. That I'm not like you."
Eva sighed deeply, with exasperation. "I don't think we'd better continue this
conversation tonight. You're being rude and not making any sense. We'll talk about it
in the morning."
She turned to go.
"I think we ought to talk about it now, Mother," Myra called after her. "I think we'd
better understand each other right now!"
Eva continued toward the door. "There's nothing to understand."
"There is, Mother!" the girl persisted. "I don't know what it was like before Daddy died.
I don't know what kind of a sex life you had together."
Eva spun to face her daughter, chalk-faced. "How dare you even broach such a subject?"
"Oh, come now, Mother," Myra went on lightly. "This isn't the turn of the century.
This is an entirely new generation, a new world. People don't hide their heads in the
sand about sex like a lot of ostriches. You know, yourself, I've attended sex classes in
school."
"And is this what they taught you? To be disgustingly obscene? To be defiantly rude
when I try to teach you what's right and wrong?"
"I'm not being rude and I'm not being disgusting," Myra countered. "I just want you to
know that I know the truth."
Eva's face distorted, angrily. "What truth."
"That all women aren't alike," was Myra's answer. "Why I can't even remember you
going out with a man since Daddy died."
"I've been out with your Uncle Qyde on several occasions," her mother reminded her.
Myra sighed wearily. "I wish you'd stop calling him 'my Uncle Clyde'. He isn't even
related to me. He was Daddy's friend... and nobody can tell me that anything ever
happened between you and him."
Eva became furious, her face changing from white to blood-red anger. "I'll give you
another slap, if you keep talking to me that way."
"Then you'll have to slap me, Mother, but I want you to know I'm different than yon
are," Myra rattled off. "I can't help it if you're sexless, all dried-up and passé. I'm not
like that and I never want to be that way. I'm hot-blooded, passionate and I want to
stay that way."
"You're an evil-minded little girl, that's what you are!" her mother told her, trying to
keep her voice under control. "I don't know where you got such thoughts. But I'm
going to see you get rid of them. I'm not going to have my only daughter turn into a
little slut, a cheap, no good little whore!"
With that tirade, Eva turned, snapped off the lights and stormed out of the room,
slamming the door with a jarring bang behind her. Myra just sat there on the bed
staring at the closed door, until she heard the key turn in he lock. Then she leaped off
the bed and ran to the door and tried the knob. It was locked. The crowning insult of
all her mother had the audacity to, lock her in her room!
Returning to the bed and without bothering to switch on the lights, Myra threw herself
across it. In her entire fifteen years, she had never known such fury, such frustration,
such outrage, such utter humiliation... and all because her mother still considered her a
child.
A child really! Some historians claimed that Cleopatra was only sixteen just one year
older than she when she ascended to the throne of Egypt and married her own brother!
Joan of Arc was only fifteen, when she led the armies of France into battle. And Juliet!
Juliet was just fourteen when she carried on that torrid love affair with Romeo and
swallowed that goblet of poison.
Not that Myra entertained any such drastic notions. But she was enraged to think that
her mother would lock her in her room like a disobedient little kid. If it were possible
for a girl to really and truly hate her mother, at that moment, Myra hated hers! She was
so furious, SO she couldn't even cry, or whimper. She just lay in the darkness, face
down on the bed, beating the pillows with her two fists.
She'd show her mother whether or not she was a child. She'd do something terrible that
would prove she was grownup. But what? She didn't want to hurt her mother
physically. She simply wanted to make her sorry for doing such a despicable thing as
locking her in her room like a little girl.
She racked her brain for several long moments. Then almost contradictory to her belief
that she was grownup, she decided on the one thing that she believed her mother
would want her to do least of all. The one thing that would hurt her mother the most if
she found out. She'd finger-fuck herself! Not once. Not twice. But she'd keep on doing
it throughout the night, so that when her mother opened the door in the morning and
came into her room, she'd find her weak from exhaustion maybe stark raving mad!
That, according to Myra's child-like reasoning would do it. That would make her
mother regret what she did.
Of course, Myra had no idea how many orgasms it would take to accomplish that feat.
She had read in a sex manual, written by an eminent physician that nobody really
knows how many times a woman can cum. One recent experiment the manual said,
was stopped after the woman had climaxed fifty or more times. Not full scale orgasms,
of course, but delightfully gratifying just the same.
As she thought of all these things, Myra rolled over onto her back, unbelted and threw
off her robe. She wore nothing underneath. She let her hands rove over her naked
body, moving upward to her breasts. Her fingers spread wide in an impossible attempt
to enclose the full swollen mounds of firmness and softness. She held her breasts in
such a manner as to be able to tease her nipples with her index fingers. The first touch
caused her a sharp intake of breath. She had forgotten how sensitive Duke's big rough
tongue had made them.
Her hands became things on their own, her right hand remaining on her right breast to
pluck and toy with the nipple while her left slid slyly down over her belly through her
silky black muff to flirt with the puffy, wet lips of her slit itself. She could feel her clit
stiffening like a tiny cock, her entire vulva aching and gushing. She felt derangingly
sexy. But it wasn't until her finger actually threaded its way into the tightly dripping
cylinder of her vagina that she realized just how aroused and sensitive Earl's calloused
fingers had left her down there. She tried to find the exact spot where he had rubbed
her. She tried to move her fingers the same way he did while conjuring up images of
Earl and Duke during those few magic moments just before her mother came in. But it
wasn't the same ... it just wasn't the same. Then suddenly it came to her! Why was she
doing this to herself when
Earl and his dog were right next door?
Instantly, the took her hands from her breasts and her pussy and jackknifed up in bed.
She looked at the open window where the curtain now hung motionlessly. The breeze
had died down with the setting sun, leaving the night hot and a little sticky. She got up
and hurried to the window, leaving the robe behind her on the bed. She brushed aside
the curtains and stood there a moment, naked, looking out into the backyard. There
was no moon, not even a sliver. But the heavenful of stars afforded enough light for her
to make out several objects below her in the yard. Looking over the fence she couldn't
be certain, but she thought she could see the huge hulk of Duke sprawled out in front
of the doghouse.
Turning away from the window, she could feel how wet and hot the insides of her
thighs were. She went to the bed and almost contemptuously, took one corner of the
top sheet and wiped away some of the secretion from her pussy and legs. Then she
went to the closet and took down a short-skirted summer-weight dress. She put in on
then stepped into the low-cut canvas shoes she wore for tennis and returned to the
window. She put one leg out of the window and straddled the sill. She felt in the
darkness for several niches in the brick wall that she used when she was younger to
climb from her room down into the yard, until one day her mother discovered them
and flew into a mild rage.
"If you ever lost your footing and fell, you could break your fool neck," her mother
scolded. "I forbid you to ever climb that way again. When you want to leave your room,
you use the staircase, you understand?"
Myra understood and from that day until this one, she had obeyed her mother. She had
never used that method of exit and entry to her room again. But now this was her
opportunity to show her mother even more defiance!
Some ivy had grown to cover the wall since that time, but the niches were still there,
offering Myra sufficient recess for her fingers and toes to descend the wall like a giant
ant or spider. Once her feet touched solid ground, she drew back into the shadows of
the house for a moment and waited to see if anyone had seen or heard her. Satisfied no
one had, she crept along the fence that separated her yard from the Holden's. A little
more than halfway, she felt for a loose board in the fence. It was another memento of
when she and Earl were younger. It had permitted them easy access to each other's
yard.
She tested the board. Someone had put a nail in it to hold it fast. Perhaps her mother,
so that Duke couldn't get through it and leave his "calling card" among the bushes or
in her carefully-kept garden. Fortunately, it wasn't very securely fastened, and with a
couple of tugs, Myra pried it loose. However, the sound was enough to disturb Duke.
He growled, then barked a couple of times and padded forward cautiously to
investigate.
"It's okay, Duke," she whispered as she squeezed through the opening in the fence to
come nose-to-nose with the big German shepherd, "It's only me."
He recognized her voice and picked up her scent. His tail began to wag furiously, and
he made those usual whining sounds of welcome to let her know how happy he was
that she had come to see him.
It shocked her a little when his tongue shot out and caught her with her mouth open,
touching a part of her tongue. At first she thought it was very funny and it almost made
her giggle. But then she became aware of the strange feeling it caused her, reminding
her of when he was licking her breasts.
The big hound looked up at Myra, puzzled, wondering why she pushed him back so
assertively and got to her feet. She looked up at Earl's window, situated at the rear of
the house on the second floor, same as hers. His parents, she knew, slept in the front of
the house, same as her mother.
Myra picked up a handful of pebbles and moved to a spot under his window. Duke
thought she was going to play with him and began romping around her in circles,
barking and making scraping sounds in the gravel. Myra had planned to toss a few of
the pebbles up at Earl's window to try to attract his attention. It wasn't necessary.
Whether or not he'd been asleep, Duke's barking and jumping around brought him to
the window.
"H'ya," Myra called up to him in a whisper.
Earl could make out her silhouette in the yard below him and seemed surprised to see
her.
"I'll be right down," he told her softly.
Moments later, he was standing before her in the yard. He was wearing only his pajama
bottoms and a pair of scuffs. Myra's sensed whirled at the sight of his naked torso,
rippling with muscles and glistening in the half-light from the stars.
Before he had a chance to ask her what she was doing there, Myra said, "I came to
apologize for mother... the horrible way she acted, the awful things she said."
Earl looked down at her face, her wet open mouth. He knew damn well she was lying.
That it wasn't the reason she came at all. Tomorrow would have been time enough to
apologize if that was all she wanted. He could see by the way her dress molded to her
body and thighs like a second skin that she didn't have a stitch on underneath. He
could tell by the look in her eyes how she was breathing and the way her nipples were
spiked, why she was really there. She wanted him to finish what they had begun on the
sofa hopefully maybe even more?
He could feel his cock lift its purplish head and start to stiffen, pulling the foreskin
tight across the glans, threatening to pop out of his pajama fly, unassisted. He put his
arms around her and drew her close. Their mouths met in the darkness, tongues
entwined.
Myra could feel the tremendous heat of his erection as it stood perpendicular, pressed
between their bellies. She rubbed her lightly-covered breasts against his smooth chest,
irritating the nipples until she thought surely they would burst.
"There's a blanket in the garage," he murmured. "I'll get it. You stay put."
"I... I don't know whether I should, Earl," she whispered. "Maybe I ought to be getting
back to my room."
He kissed her again and took hold of one of her breasts and squeezed it, gently. "Let's
not play games, Myra."
Then he turned and hurried away toward the garage. It wasn't until he was gone that
Myra remembered Duke. He had stopped barking and dancing around and was lying a
few feet away, head between his paws, the lower whites of his eyes showing as he
looked up at her, sadly, disappointedly.
She hadn't come to play with him after all. She'd come to see his master. He wished he
didn't have to share her with his master. But then, his master was very good to him. He
fed him better than any other dog in the neighborhood. He took him with him almost
every place he went. And once during season, he even took him to a kennel and let him
mate with a beautiful, sleek black bitch.
Earl was back now with the blanket and Myra went with him to the rear of the yard,
where the bushes grew thick. Earl's parents didn't take nearly as good care of their
backyard as Myra's mother and it was badly overgrown. But for their purpose right
now, it was perfect.
Duke made a move to get up and follow them. But Earl stopped him in his tracks. "You
stay put, Duke. You stay right where you are."
The dog understood and flopped down on his belly in the dirt in front of the doghouse.
Earl found a well-hidden spot in among the bushes and spread the blanket. Then he sat
down and held up a hand for Myra to join him. She played coy for a moment and again
said, she didn't know whether she should. But she made no attempt to get away, once
he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto the blanket beside him.
He put an arm around her and kissed her, moving his lips on hers, seeking a better and
better contact. Then as her lips gradually parted he began working his tongue in and
out of her mouth, sensually, telling her what he really wanted.
Myra sighed contentedly and leaned up to him, her arms going around his neck, her
fingers toying with his long, blonde hair that hung far down his neck almost to his bare
shoulders.
"I wish I was your girl, Earl," she whispered.
"You are my girl," he assured her.
"I mean really and truly your girl," she said. "I mean enough for you to to maybe even
want to marry me."
"Maybe that'll happen in time?"
"You mean it, Earl?" she murmured breathlessly, as she moved still closer, rubbing her
belly against his nearly naked cock. "Honestly?"
"Honestly."
It seemed to dispel the very last of her inhibitions and she let her tongue follow his
tongue into his mouth, so that he might suck on it and enjoy the exquisite flavor of her
wet, open mouth. She tensed as she felt his hand at her thighs, moving upward and
behind, carrying her mini-skirt along with it.
He roved her well-rounded buttocks, showing no surprise that she had no panties on.
He had been sure she wouldn't have. He worked the skirt high above her waist,
running his hand up along her spine, then downward over her bare hip.
Myra moved backward just a little, so that he could wedge his hand between them and
bring it downward over her belly, mussing her abundant crop of fur, then flattening his
palm and stimulating her entire pubic area with circular, titillating up and down
movements.
"Like that?" he whispered.
"Umm," she crooned, then catching herself, hid her face in embarrassment, wishing he
wouldn't talk about it.
Her thighs jumped, as she felt Earl's fingers move down between her legs to touch her
tingling clitoris.
"That's the place, right?" he asked softly against her mouth.
"Umm," was all she could answer, as her elusive little pea-like organ began slipping
from one side to the other of his searching fingers. If he didn't stop she was going to
cum very quickly. "Suppose... suppose I did that to you?" she panted.
"I'd love it," he let her know and kissed her mouth, hard, possessively, as her hand
slipped down between them and found his cock. She squeezed him, gently, through his
pajamas. The material was sticky wet.
Myra began to stroke him as she spread her own legs wide apart so that he could thrust
his fingers deeper into her cunt. They slid in easily, in and out, in and out. Without
conscious thought, she began undulating her hips with the motion of his fingers. She
wanted him. She really wanted him.
She knew now how frustrating it must have been for him when she wouldn't let him
put his hand inside her panties, because stroking him outside his pajamas didn't even
begin to satisfy her. The next moment, her hand was inside his fly, wrapped around his
cock, struggling to get it out of the opening. It took too long, so she unfastened the
snap at the waistband of his pants and stripped them down, releasing his cock that
sprang up like a red-tipped projectile leaving its silo at Cape Kennedy.
Instantly, her hand was around it again, unmindful of the pre-cum that saturated it, as
her fingers appraised it unashamedly. She hadn't been aware of its size the first time.
Maybe because she was too timid, too frightened. But now she chanted, "He's so big.
So long and fat. Are all men this big?"
"Nobody that I know is," he replied with a proud chuckle.
His fingers were still working in and out of her cunt, those calluses rubbing over her
clit again, maddeningly. Her own hand began moving too, up and down the swollen
length of his cock. She began groaning, shuddering convulsively. "Oh... I feel so
funny... so weak and crazy-like... Oh, darling, I can't stand it..." She began jerking him
harder, almost cruelly. She kissed his mouth, his chin, the tip of his nose, his eyes, all
over his face and then his mouth again, plunging her tongue deep inside. In a delirious
fit of wild, uninhibited sex, she panted, "Oh, Earl... Earl, my own darling... would...
would it be so terrible?"
There was no question in his mind what she wanted. "It would be the most wonderful
thing that ever happened to you... or me, either. Just lie back, darling."
"Maybe it's all happening too fast? Maybe I'm just all mixed up?"
He shook his head. "You're just acting naturally and normally."
Suddenly, as she continued to hold him in the palm of her hand, she became conscious
of his size again. Fear hammered at her brain and her voice tightened with emotion.
"Oh my... Oh, Earl... maybe he's too big? Maybe I'll disappoint you?"
"Women have an incredible way of adjusting, darling," he reassured her as he began to
climb atop her.
She grew tense. "Will it hurt? I mean when he goes in? I heard that it almost kills some
women... that it ruins sex for them the rest of their lives."
"Not if the man is careful," he pacified.
She hesitated a moment, then put a question to him that she wasn't particularly happy
to ask, but wanted to know. "Have... have you ever done it before... to any other girls?"
He smiled. "Yes. A couple."
"A couple... or a few?"
"A few."
She was glad he didn't want to talk about it, or brag, or mention anyone by name. Even
though it wasn't hard for her to guess who they were. She knew several females in
town, some even older than he, whom she knew were available and practically threw
themselves at him. But she quickly and willingly dropped all further questioning and
got back to the far more immediate, more important subject at hand. "It... it will hurt
some, won't it?" she asked, with sort of dread anticipation.
He kissed her, as he loomed over her in the semi-darkness. "I won't lie, Myra darling,"
he told her truthfully. "There'll be some pain. But it won't last long. And once I'm
inside you, the pain will go very quickly. Then you'll feel something else, something so
wonderful that you'll want it again and again, for as long as you live. Some women that
might not be true of, I know... but a passionate female like you..."
"Am I passionate?" she snapped up. She remembered what she had told her mother and
wanted it confirmed.
"You'd better believe it, Myra darling."
She reached up and took his face in fingers that were fierce and demanding and
brought him down to meet her mouth, engaging his tongue once more in a passionate
orgy that screamed for release. Thinking of her mother made her realize that this was
the perfect way of getting back at her. This would be the ultimate in revenge for that
slap she gave her, for locking the door, for treating her like a little child. Letting Earl
fuck her would prove without a question of a doubt that she was no longer a child. Yes,
that was the word fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She had never allowed herself to even think of
the word before. But now she'd said it and that's exactly what she was going to let Earl
do to her. Fuck her!
She suffered just one more fleeting moment of fear as site felt Earl start to pull her dress
off. "I'll be naked, darling."
"That'll make two of us," he said.
She hadn't realized he had peeled off his pajama pants. "But suppose someone sees us?"
"Only owls could see us in this darkness and at last count there were no owls in the
neighborhood," he said lightly, as he worked the dress off over her head.
She shivered a moment in her nakedness. "I'm cold."
"I'll cover you over," he said and the next moment he sank down against her trembling,
naked form. Then his fingers were between their tense, perspiration-drenched bodies,
guiding his swollen organ toward her eagerly flowering vagina. She hissed and lurched
as he swirled the head of cock over her moist pussy-lips, centering most of the attention
on her hardened clit. A moment later, his glans was poised at her hole, waiting only for
Myra's word to begin its battering defloration.
"Set?" he whispered, tensely.
"Set," she breathed, uptight. "Now, darling... now... before I lose my nerve."
With a grunt, he began a slow, relentless pressure to her cunt. Myra gasped, bucked,
and tried to back away from the searing pressure of his cock. But he clamped her hips,
instinctively, and like bad news decided to give it to her all in one quick lunge.
They groaned almost in unison as he kept pushing into her tight hole, harder and
harder, until with an almost audible implosion her hymen gave way to his pressure.
Myra felt a few flecks of blood spray the insides of her thighs and she knew she was no
longer virgin. That precious little, wholly useless maidenhead she had carried around
for fifteen years was no more.
"Oh please, Earl, stop please," she sobbed piteously, rolling her hips and pushing up at
him with both hands. "Stop, you've got to stop. I can't stand it! You're too big! You're
killing me!"
He ignored her pleas, aware that if he stopped now it would do the very thing she told
him about, ruin her against sex for life. Because all she would know about it would be
the pain and none of the pleasure. He had to keep going. He had to keep pushing into
her, closing his ears to her tears, her groans, and her pleadings. Until with almost
sadistic joy he drew a final muffled cry of pain from her that told him he had bottomed.
"You did it, Myra," he consoled and congratulated her. "I told you that you would.
You're wonderful."
He kissed her and held his cock deep inside her.
She was sobbing. "It hurts, Earl. It hurts terribly."
"That's because you're uptight as a bowstring," he told her. "Relax, my baby. Relax the
worst is over. From now it's just plain heaven."
She wanted to believe him. It couldn't be possible that's all there was to it. Else why
would some women want it so much? Maybe that's why her mother was the way she
was? Maybe she never got to know anything but the pain?
After a moment, Myra felt him moving against her, in and out of her crucifyingly tight
tunnel. She guessed it must be nearly as painful for him with her strangling muscles
pulverizing his sensitive penis. But then, gradually, as their outpouring of sexual juices
intermingled, her narrow hole began to relax. She could feel the pain gradually fading,
to be replaced with the most exquisite sensations she had ever known.
"Still hurt?" he whispered with concern.
"Not nearly as much."
He sucked in his breath. "You're terrific, darling. You feel so hot and soft and
wonderful."
"Better than any of those other girls?"
"No comparison. You're in a class all by yourself."
She liked to her him say things like that and, in response, pinched his cock between the
tight, spongy walls of her cunt.
He began to move against her faster, harder, filling her with the most fantastic feelings
she had ever dreamed possible.
"Oh. like that, darling," she muttered, her voice pinched, hysterically. "Oh, rock
yourself like that. Oh, my whole belly feels like it's going to explode."
Where the dog came from Myra had no idea. But there he was hovering over her, same
as he was earlier that night on the sofa. He began licking her face, then her bare
shoulders and then her breasts, as Earl kept pumping his cock in and out of the
loosening hole between her widespread thighs, paying little attention to Duke.
"Oooh, Earl," she chanted. "Oh, Earl. Ahh, I want to scream and cry. Oooh, you were
so right, darling. It's so beautiful. So fantastic." She felt her first orgasm catching on.
"Oooh, I'm going to cum..."
"Go ahead," Earl breathed with exertion as he continued to bang his cock-head against
the entrance to her womb.
Myra gritted her teeth and grabbed the dog's head, encouraging him to lick her aching
nipples faster, harder as she rode the waves of her lust, tightly. Instinctively, she raised
her legs to wrap them around Earl's middle, her hips pounding up at him as if she had
been humping all her life.
"Oh, fuck me... harder... faster... Oooh, I'm going to cum again..."
And then as her second orgasm took hold, she suddenly realized that Duke was gone,
that he no longer was licking her breasts. Vaguely, she wondered why. She wanted him.
And then she felt the unmistakable hot wetness of his tongue in the blaze crevice of her
widely splayed ass-cheeks.
It took her only moments to realize that the heat of her sex and Earl's had drawn the
dog to it. There, with considerable effort, he had burrowed his snout between their
splayed legs to lick his master's testicles and the lower folds of her cuntal lips, bringing
both of them immeasurable, incredible added sensations.
"It's like a thousand crazy ants are dancing on my cunt," Myra hissed. "Oh God nothin
could be more wonderful!"
There wasn't much more to be done in their race toward the inevitable. After the
multiple minor climaxes she enjoyed along the way, she could feel herself approaching
the really big one All it needed was the final swelling of Earl' cock as he held it deep
within her. Then, gorged with sperm, it burst, and he began shooting round after round
of white-hot liquid into he belly.
With a wail, Myra went over the edge "Ohhhh!" she cried out wildly and thrust he cunt
up against his belly, holding there as he legs quivered and rapturous sensations raced
along her spine. Faintly she could hear the do lapping away, adding to the incredible
pleasure in her seething loins as she milked the last drop of semen from Earl's spurting
penis, until gradually it began to lose its size and he pullet out of her.
She fell back onto the blanket and lay there, wet and open, breathing laboriously, as the
violent climax she had just experienced slowly receded. She caught a glimpse of Duke,
sniffing noisily, as he moved toward her oozing pussy. The mere thought of his long,
red, rough tongue drawing through her cunt, washing her hypersensitive clitoris, sent
her wild. Sort of instinctively, she opened her glisteningly wet thighs still wider for him.
But as the dog bent his head toward her, Earl gave him a sharp clout alongside the ear
that brought a faint growl from the animal and then sent him scampering away into the
darkness.
Myra couldn't honestly say whether she was glad or disappointed that Earl chased Duke
away. She wouldn't deny that her pussy was far from satisfied. But even though it was
perfectly obvious to her that Earl's cock in its present diminutive state couldn't even
begin to accommodate her, she didn't try to press the issue. Instead for the few minutes
she stayed there with him, cradled in his arms as the silent night closed in around
them, she was contented in the knowledge that he had helped her wipe out the last
vestige of her childhood, helped her attain the full status of womanhood, in experience,
if not in years. Perhaps that was quite enough for one evening, she told herself.


Chapter 4

Eva Burr waited until she was alone in her room and had locked the door, before she
gave vent to her true feelings. Not the anger she'd shown her daughter. But the deep
hurt Myra had caused her, by the things she said.
The episode on the sofa, now that she'd had time to rationalize it in her mind, perhaps
wasn't as bad as it first appeared. Admittedly, it was a shock to see her daughter, only
fifteen years old, pumping a young man's penis and being fingered by him in turn.
Looking back over the years, Eva tried to recall the first time she fondled a boy's penis,
or had her own vagina fingered. Certainly she couldn't have been a whole lot older than
Myra was right now. Strange how a person can forget things like that so easily.
Or maybe it was the shock of seeing that big, nasty dog licking Myra's breasts and
Myra appearing to get such a thrill out of it? Perhaps, too, it was the startling
realization that her daughter was no longer the baby that she had tried to pretend Myra
was. Maybe Myra was right? Maybe things had changed drastically since she was
Myra's age? Maybe today, at fifteen, a girl was grownup enough to know what sex was
all about and want to share in it?
All of these things disturbed Eva, of course. But it was what Myra said about her being
"sexless, dried up and passé" that stung so deeply. Because it wasn't true. To prove it
wasn't, she stripped off her dress and her bra, unfastened her hose and peeled them
down her legs, then with a well-coordinated wiggle divested herself of her girdle. To
complete the picture, she removed the pins from her long, sleek, black hair, shook it
out and let it fall at both sides of her face. Then she took a few steps and studied her
naked form in the wall mirror beside her dresser.
Did she look "sexless, dried up and passé" now? Like hell she did! Except that she was
more maturely cushioned, her body followed the same sensuous lines as her daughter's.
Her breasts were considerably larger than Myra's. topped with big, strawberry-red
nipples, but there was not the slightest hint of sag to them. There was more meat
around her hips and in her thighs, but her legs as well as every other part of her
anatomy were as neatly proportioned as her daughter's. There was even a greater
abundance of glistening, silky, coal-black hair covering her prominent pubic mound.
Myra had never seen her mother stark-naked like this. No one ever had, except Ben,
the man to whom she had been married for over ten long years prior to his untimely
death a few years ago. Since that time, Eva has had no sexual relations with a man. She
didn't know why, exactly. Unless it was because Ben had been such an exciting,
imaginative lover, that she was afraid that with anyone else it could only be a terribly
frustrating, disappointing experience – only tend to remind her of how wonderful it
had been with her husband. She couldn't help but think that if only Myra could have
seen her mother and father in bed, she would soon change her mind about her mother
being sexless... 
Strangely, Eva hadn't thought about any of those things for a long time. She had
managed to abstain from sex since Ben had died, never stopping to consider what she
might be missing, that she just might be "drying up"... and here she was only thirty
four years old.
Without realizing it, she began kneading her breasts, the strawberry pink nipples
hardening against her palms. Except when she bathed, and then only to run a wet
washcloth over them, she hadn't handled her breasts since she didn't know when. She
was surprised to feel how firm and resilient and beautifully shaped they were; that they
were still alive with feelings.
Then she ran her hands down along her sides and over her stomach. There was only
the very slightest hint of a bulge to it, not like some women her age. But then she took
very good care of herself, watched what she ate, did her daily dozen every morning and
occasionally worked out with the girls in her class during gym period. Now her hands
were in the forest of black hair that covered her pubic mound, threatening to dip down
between her thighs. Which is when she caught herself.
What was she thinking about? What had gotten into her, anyway? Was it really because
of what Myra said to her, or because the scene in the living room had awakened her,
stimulated her?
Quickly, she turned away from the mirror and went to the bottom drawer of her dresser
for a fresh nightie. She caught just a fleeting glimpse of the hand vibrator, tucked down
in one corner of the drawer. She had bought it a couple of years ago, when she thought
she was suffering a touch of arthritis in her left arm. But it turned out to be nothing
more than a slight cold.
She closed the drawer, quickly, and carried the nightie into the bathroom with her. She
brushed her teeth, washed her face and hands, then returned to the bedroom. As she
turned out the light and got into bed, she wondered if Myra was asleep yet? Maybe
she'd been much too severe with the girl? After all, no matter what Myra said, she was
only fifteen. Maybe slapping her and saying the nasty things to her the way she did
wasn't setting a very good example? Losing her temper wasn't like Eve at all. She
wondered if she should go to Myra's room and tell her she was sorry, maybe sleep with
her, the way they used to when anything disturbing occurred between them? But she
thought better of it. , Myra had to be taught that being promiscuous was not the proper
thing, not even in today's "free-wheeling" world. She had to be taught that nice girls
just didn't do what she was doing with Earl on the couch and especially letting that
disgusting dog do what he was doing.
Strangely, the more Eva tried to erase the scene from her mind, the more indelible it
seemed to become. She could see that big, glistening, red-knobbed penis that Myra held
in her hand... see the dog's tongue licking her breasts with such relish... hear Myra's
labored breathing as Earl's fingers brought her closer and closer to climax...!
Eva suddenly sat up sharply in bed, her eyes wide open in the darkness, her nightie
drenched with perspiration from her trembling body. She had the most maddening
sensation between her legs, her vagina itched to the point of aching. As she had done
standing before the mirror, she let her hands drift tenderly and lightly down to her
loins. She hesitated, then with her left hand she pulled up the skirt of her nightie, the
fingers of her right hand tugging at the silky tendrils of her bush, wrapping them
around her fingertips. With her nostrils flared and her tongue probing wetly at her
throbbing lower lip, Eva closed her eyes. She found and held the image of Ben, her
husband, in front of her. He was standing there beside the bed, as he had done so many
times, naked, handsome, and magnificent, staring down at her in that moment just
before he took her.
"Oh, Ben," she said softly as her right hand slipped down between her parted thighs. It
had been a long time since she touched herself down there really touched herself. She
was surprised at how warm and wet and soft her pussy-lips were, what pleasant
stimulation her fingertips brought her.
Unlike her daughter, Eva made no pretense at what she was doing. She couldn't
remember when she had last fingered herself there. But it was one of those things, like
swimming or riding a bike, that a person never forgets how to perform. She thrust her
rigid middle finger into the dimmest recesses of her body, her back arching away from
the bed in answer to the flood of liquid pleasure that coursed through her body at her
own sensitive touch.
She could hear her own breathing now, and she lay for a moment as if paralyzed by the
exquisite sensations of sexual arousal that engulfed her. Then she began moving her
finger inside her gaping cuntal opening in small circles, stretching the orifice to its
capacity so she could worm another finger and then another inside, wishing she could
get her whole fist into the sopping, trembling cavity.
No longer were her movements tender and unhurried. Now the manipulations of her
fingers increased in intensity, until they became almost cruel, as if she couldn't wait to
savor that glorious feeling of completion. Faster and faster, harder and harder her
fingers moved inside the wetly sucking lips of her cunt, while her other hand, on her
breasts, pulled and massaged them into aching hardness, after so long a time.
Eva was one of those women who found stimulation not only in the ultra-sensitive head
of her clitoris, but in her vaginal lips, the walls of her cunt and over her entire pubic
area. That's why her daughter's words had been so cruelly ridiculous saying she was
sexless. She could remember having a complete orgasm simply by having Ben suck on
her nipples, or run his tongue up the insides of her thighs and over her labia.
The memory of those things now started a burning pressure building far up inside Eva's
hot, agitated belly, demanding release, insisting she finish. Eva pushed her fingers as far
up inside herself as she could. What her fingers sought was to puncture the imaginary
bubble of passion and release her tension in one great burst. And then the first
incredible shock of her climax hit her. She felt her stomach strain and suck in as if she
had been hit full force with a fist in the solar plexus. Her whole body went stiff and she
lifted herself until only her shoulder blades and heels remained on the bed.
She tried not to yell out in her passion, drawing her lower Up between her teeth and
clamping down hard on it to muffle all sound for fear Myra might hear her. Glassyeyed, 
she threw back her head, her neck muscles straining.
She somehow found the strength and the presence of mind to jam her fingers one more
time deep up into her spasming pussy. It was the coupe de grace. The finishing stroke
that sent her completely out of control. Her body jerked and twitched convulsively as
wave after wave of bubbling hot sensations swept through her network of flaming
nerve-paths.
Automatically, Eva's thighs opened wide apart as if she were waiting to welcome Ben or
some other visionary lover, inviting him to move between them. She could feel the
juices of her orgasm, hot against her entrenched fingers, oozing down the burning
insides of her smooth thighs and dripping down the crevice of her ass-cheeks.
How long her orgasm lasted, or how long she lay there immersed in its afterglow, Eva
had no idea. But gradually, as her senses returned, instead of feeling ashamed because
of what she'd done, she became aware of a growing intensity inside her belly that told
her, her appetite had not been appeased.
Ben had often told her that once she got completely warmed up, there was just no
satisfying her. Of course, he was wrong. He had never failed to bring her satisfaction.
But that was only because he had learned to kiss and finger her down there. Making
sure she had several orgasms before he even mounted her and then holding back until
she enjoyed several more before dropping his load at the mouth of her womb.
Sometimes it felt as if he had reached all the way up to splash his love-juice around her
heart.
This, therefore, had been merely a teaser, an appetizer to her self-induced lust. Once
again, she remembered Ben's teaching.
"Never do it the same way twice," had been his theory. "Variety adds spice."
That was what made her get up, pad barefoot to the dresser in the darkness, open the
bottom drawer, take out the hand vibrator and return with it to the bed. There was a
wall socket just back of the headboard, into which she inserted the plug. The cord was
long enough to easily reach into the bed.
Eva had never used the vibrator on her genitalia, or on any other part of her body
except her arms. But it wasn't difficult for her to imagine the stimulation it might
provide. Before she got into bed she stripped off her nightie, then sprawled out on her
back on the mattress. Legs clenched together wetly, she snapped the vibrator on. It gave
off a faint whirring noise that she was sure couldn't be heard outside her room, let
alone all the way to Myra's bedroom.
Of course, Eva had no idea of the irony of the situation. That to "get even" with her
mother, Myra had planned to finger herself not just once but multiple times, just as her
mother was preparing to do right now. What either would have said, or thought, if they
had learned the truth about each other, was an impossible guess.
As she lay there now in the darkness, Eva conjured up the image of Ben once more.
This time he was kneeling beside her, looking down at her as she stretched out nakedly
before him, her body open and hungry for him. She pretended the vibrator was his
hand and his big, handsome cock. She thrilled as it caressed her breasts, her abdomen,
stroked the tender insides of her thighs and then hummed over her pubic mound. She
could feel the entire area tingling, coming alive like the sunrise of a new dawn.
She took her time, let the vibrator move unhurriedly up and down and around her
clitoris, her vagina. She felt herself being swallowed up in the continuous, steady
stimulation of the vibrator, gradually losing herself in her fantasy. Except that Ben
wasn't alone in her dreams now. That exciting big cock of Earl Holden's was up inside
her now and, of all things, Duke was licking her breasts, her belly, her pubic hair, clear
down to the start of her slit. Now and then she took away, the vibrator's rubber head,
to try to prolong the tantalizing sensations it was bringing her, only to find when she
returned it to one of her erogenous areas that the intensity was many times greater.
She kept teasing herself, for an eternity it seemed, relishing each moment of sensuality
she brought herself. Until she reached the supreme moment when she couldn't possibly
stand any more stimulation. Then she fitted the whirring head of the vibrator between
the swollen lips of her cunt and held it against the right side of her clit. It made
obscene sloshing sounds in her wetness that only added to the delightfully deranged
filthiness she felt as the whole pace of her body accelerated. She could feel her heart
racing. Her breathing gave way to panting and moaning. Her pelvis went crazy, even
the tiniest of the nerves and veins located there were at the point of detonation.
Her cunt began throbbing, sucking hungrily as if trying to swallow up the business end
of the vibrator and plunge the incredible sensation it was bringing her right into her
belly. Every bulb in her brain dimmed and for infinite seconds she even lost complete
awareness of where she was.
And then her orgasms were upon her. Inconceivable sensations surged from her cunt
and clit throughout her entire nervous system, seizing control of her brain.
She jackknifed up in bed and pulled the rubber head of the vibrator from between her
cuntal lips with a loud plop and tossed it aside without bothering to turn it off. She
covered her face with her hands as her body quaked with each spasmic wave of her
climax. Perspiration dripped from every pore in her body.
Gradually, after what seemed endless seconds, she felt a slow relaxation flowing
through her entire system as she returned to a reasonable, normal state of physical
balance. Intense? Yes, but Eva was not sure she would want to try it again. Because she
could see how it could very easily become habit forming and while it was admittedly
enjoyable, it did not bring her the same satisfaction that intercourse with Ben had
brought her.
And what had it proved to her? Only that she could still have an orgasm, multiple
orgasms even. But would she appeal to a man? Would another man bring her the same
beautiful sensations she'd known with Ben? Or was her daughter right? Would she
prove to be frigid, dried up and passé, if she got right down to it with a man?
The thought stayed with her throughout the night, or at least until her body relaxed
enough for her to fall asleep. Before she did fall asleep, she got out of bed, put on her
nightie and tiptoed through the hallway to Myra's room. She unlocked the door and
peeked inside. Myra had returned from her experience with Earl and Duke in the
backyard and was in bed and asleep when her mother looked in on her. So Eva
returned to her own bedroom.


Chapter 5

Whether Myra had an early class, as she sometimes did, or whether she simply didn't
want to face her mother, she was gone from the house by the time Eva came downstairs
to breakfast the next morning. In her place was a curt note that said she wouldn't be
home to dinner, that she might even stay overnight with a girlfriend, as she sometimes
did, and left the phone number if her mother needed her. So Eva sat down to breakfast
alone, with her thoughts which were not too varied. In fact, the predominant thought
was the same one that kept her awake most of last night.
Was she capable of having a good time with a man, or was Myra right? Had she just
used Ben's death as an excuse to abstain from sex? Had Ben spoiled her for all other
men to the point where she had allowed herself to become unattractive to them, unable
to arouse them, incapable of enjoying sex with them?
Little by little the thought kept gnawing away at her brain, until it became almost an
obsession with her. She found it cropping up in her mind, while she was in the middle
of teaching class, when she was talking to other people and worst of all when she was
alone.
She didn't like the idea of Myra being angry. She didn't altogether approve of Myra not
coming home to dinner, or spending the night with a girlfriend, even if she knew where
she was. But it had happened before when they had disagreements and everything
eventually straightened itself out, same as Eva knew this would adjust itself in time,
even though it might have been a little more serious, a little more violent than any of
the other squabbles they'd had.
After all, Myra was a lot like her father determined, headstrong and obviously, from
what she said last night, overly passionate. Since Eva, too, was that way, perhaps it
wasn't Myra's fault that she gave into her emotions at such an early age? Maybe she
had been much too harsh with the girl. Maybe instead of slapping her, saying the
things she did, she should have tried reasoning with her, showing her the difference
between right and wrong? On the other hand, after the disgraceful way she acted with
herself last night, was she qualified to determine how a girl should behave, even if she
was her mother?
Eva was never quite sure at exactly what point Clyde Thomas enter her mind. Clyde
was the man whom Eva had taught Myra to call "uncle", though he was nothing more
than an old friend of the family. Or more precisely, he had been Ben's friend. Ben's best
friend.
Aside from offering his condolences and assisting Eva with Ben's funeral arrangements,
Clyde had taken Eva to Milwaukee a few times for dinner and a show. But that's all
there was to it. He never said anything out of the way to her, or made any suggestions
at which she could take offense. She always felt that it was out of deference to Ben.
Even though she knew by the way he looked at her and the way he sometimes acted
and spoke, that he had been carrying a pretty warm torch ever since the day Ben first
introduced them.
Clyde Thomas was not exactly the type of man that Eva would have picked as her
Lothario. Owner of West Agate's one and only disposal company, he had money
enough and dressed nicely. But there were other things to be considered. He wasn't a
big man as far as height went, in fact he wasn't much taller than Eva. But his body was
shaped along the lines of a beer keg. with a neck that took a nineteen-inch collar and
grew out of powerful, sloping shoulders. He had all his hair, rust-colored and gray, that
he wore in a butch. Except for a nose that had been broken and never properly set,
during a brief career in the ring, and a jaw that looked in need of a shave even after
he'd just had one, he wasn't really too bad looking. What Eva as a schoolteacher
objected to mainly, was his language. He'd only had a sixth grade education and his
improper use of words, flavored with a constant flow of obscenities, offended her ears
although he did try to cut down on his cussing in her presence.
Eva considered Myra wasn't going to be home for dinner, would be staying away from
the house all night, in fact. Should she invite Clyde to have dinner with her? After all,
he had taken her out a number of times and she never once invited him to the house
for a meal not even on Thanksgiving, or Christmas. So at about four o'clock she
dropped a coin into the public telephone in the school corridor and called him at the
disposal office and asked him if he'd like to have dinner with her.
"Would I?" he enthused. "What time ya put onna feedbag?"
Eva winced a little. "Seven?"
"I'll be there with goddamn bells on!" he exclaimed.
She winced again and said she'd be expecting him and hung up.
Eva, during her thirty-four years, had perfected a way of skirting a main issue, when it
suited her purpose; pretending she was doing a thing for one reason, when she had an
entirely different aim in mind. Which is why she found it so easy to convince herself
that all she wanted from Clyde, was to have dinner with him, pay him back for the
kindnesses he'd shown her since Ben's death. She never admitted to herself for one
moment that he might serve as the implement of her experiment. That before the night
was over, he might prove to her whether she had lost her sex appeal as her daughter
said; if she could still make it with a man. Yet when she prepared for the evening, she
kept all these things foremost, if subconsciously, in her mind. She even stopped off 
at a drugstore where no one knew her, on her way home from school, to pick up a
raspberry-flavored vaginal spray, as well as a couple of bottles of champagne from a
local liquor store. When she got home, she put a roast in the oven, chilled the
champagne and then went upstairs to bathe. She soaked in the tub for a long time,
until she made sure every part of her anatomy was spotlessly clean. Then she dried
herself off, doused herself with her most exotic perfume and then sprayed her pussy,
inside and out, with the raspberry feminine deodorant.
She put on a black satin garter belt; super-sheer, black-diamond, full-fashioned opera
hose; sheer-sheer black panties and a matching black, lacy, half-shell bra that someone
gave her as a "gag present" at the Christmas party at school. She never dreamed she'd
ever have an occasion to wear it, because it was a far cry from the bras she was used to
wearing. Sensationally sexy, it pushed her breasts upward so that all but her nipples
showed, accentuating their voluptuous round fullness and the deep, intriguing cleavage
that separated them.
The gown she chose to wear was black lace, too. Though shorter than the other dresses
in her wardrobe, it was demure and proper, except when she bent over, or one of the
narrow spaghetti straps slipped down from her shoulder and showed the creamy-white
swell of her breasts. The same shiny black patent leather heels that Myra wore last
night completed her costume.
When in answer to his ring, Eva opened the front door for Clyde, a couple of minutes
before seven, he just stood there on the threshold staring back at her, wide-eyed, his
lower jaw slack.
"Christ!" he blurted out. "I never seen you lookin' like that before!"
It was true. He never had seen Eva with her jet black hair any other way than pulled
back severely into a knot behind her head. Now it was hanging down loosely below her
bare shoulders. He never saw her really made-up before, with bright red lipstick and
blue eye shadow and the right shade of face powder. He hadn't even seen her in a gown
before that showed so much gleaming white flesh.
"Christ!" was all he could find to say, as he accepted her invitation to step inside and
follow her into the living room, after she closed the door behind them.
Eva was well aware that his gaze followed the backs of her shapely, black-nylon-encased
legs and the way the lacy material of the gown sans girdle hugged her hips and pulled
tight across her flexing buttocks when she walked. But that, even if she wouldn't admit
it to herself, was its purpose.
By the time they got into the living room, Clyde was trying desperately to hide the
erection she'd caused him. She pretended to pay no attention. But it was impossible not
to see. It looked like he was carrying a cop's nightstick inside his sharply-creased
trousers. It was the first time she could remember ever seeing him with a hard-on or
maybe she just never took the trouble to notice before?
"Like a drink?" she asked him.
"I think I could stand one," he said.
"Champagne?"
Right now he'd drink anything she offered him. He wagged his rusty-topped head and
sat down on the sofa, heavily, grateful for the opportunity to hide his embarrassing
erection.
It had subsided somewhat by the time Eva returned with two glasses of chilled
champagne on a silver tray. But it started up again, the moment she bent forward and
proffered one of the glasses to him and afforded him a generous glimpse of her
breathtaking cleavage damn near down to her belly-button. Perspiration began
sprouting on his wrinkled forehead and again all he could do was utter his favorite
word, "Christ!"
She sat primly in an easy chair facing Clyde, but at the same time allowed him ample
opportunity to gaze at her shapely thighs almost to the tops of her sheer-sheer black
hose, while they sipped their champagne. She found her gaze wandering now and then,
to the swelling in the right leg of his trousers. It seemed to be quite a size. Though it
was difficult for her to judge, since she had no basis for comparison. It had been so long
since she paid any attention to that area of a man's anatomy. She knew only that right
now, thinking about it, caused a mild awakening in her loins.
Clyde asked if Myra would be having dinner with them. Eva told him that Myra was
visiting a friend, but didn't say she wouldn't be home all night. She wasn't sure that
would be the smart thing to do. Better to first test the water before she made the
plunge.
By the time they finished their drinks, dinner was ready. It was a big success, because
Eva was a far better than average cook. They sat opposite each other at the small round
table in the dining room and during the course of the meal, polished off the first bottle
of champagne. While Eva wasn't a teetotaler, drinking was not one of her strong points.
Clyde could guzzle all night. Consequently, by the time dinner was nearing its
completion, Eva was feeling delightfully lightheaded. While Clyde had his belly full of
excellently prepared food and his eyes full of Eva's heretofore hidden charms.
It wasn't until she came around to his side of the table and leaned into him to serve
him his dessert a generous wedge of deep dish apple pie and her breasts almost tumbled
out of her dress, that he slipped an arm around her waist. It was the first advance he
had ever made toward her in the more than fifteen years he'd known her.
"Y'know, I always knew you were stacked under them crappy clothes you wore," he
told her, staring at the huge, white, blue-veined alabaster-like mounds of flesh swelling
over the neckline of her dress. "But I sure as hell never figured you for a pair of boobs
like them."
Eva frowned. "Boobs?"
"Right boobs, knockers, melons," Clyde emphasized, keeping his eyes focused on her
breasts. "Christ I don't see how a schoolteacher can't understand plain English."
Eva giggled. She thought it was very funny, until she felt his hand move down from her
waist to rove her thinly-covered buttocks.
"You got the keister, too," he told her. "I can't figure why the hell you kept it under
wraps all this time. Makin' like a goddamn, dried-up old maid."
There! He said it, too. He thought she was "dried-up", just as Myra told her. She
started to pull away from him, but he turned his chair, quickly, to face her, taking hold
of her hips in both hands and bringing her closer to him.
She wiggled her hips, trying to get away from him. "You said I was dried up."
"I said I thought you were dried-up until tonight," he corrected. "Christ you're the
sexiest restroom kin' goddamn broad, I ever saw. Same as you were when Ben was
alive."
She stopped trying to get away and put a silencing finger lightly to his lips. 
"Please let's not talk about Ben."
He shrugged. "Suits me. But I just want you to know: every damn night I left you and
him alone together, I went home with the worst pair of lover's nuts a guy ever had.
Then when he croaked and you went into the shell and started dressin' and actin' like
some kinda goddamn nun, I stopped gettin' the hots for you until tonight."
He spread his legs apart and pulled her between them, close enough for him to smell
the perfumed scent of her body rising from her cleavage; close enough for him to lean
forward and put his hot lips to the soft, firm flesh of her breasts above the neckline of
her dress.
Eva's whole body stiffened as his wet mouth sent shivers racing along her spine. She
clenched her thighs together, tightly, to try to ease the prickling sensation she felt there.
"You... you really think I'm a... a sexy looking... broad," she breathed, quoting him.
"Christ yes!" he declared, as his hands left her waist, one to slide down behind her and
grasp her buttocks and pull her still closer, the Other to reach up and brush the
spaghetti straps of her gown from her shoulders.
Though, for a moment she tasted mild panic, wondering if she should go through with
her "experiment", Eva stood there submissively, arms at her sides as he worked the top
of her gown downward, carrying the half-shell black bra with it.
Clyde could feel his temples pounding like tiny drums at the sight of her exquisitely
molded, bared breasts. Again he uttered the most overworked word in his limited
vocabulary. "Christ! I never in my life saw a pair of fuckin' tits like yours."
While she might not have appreciated his descriptiveness, Eva couldn't help but be
pleased that he found her breasts so exciting. She shut her eyes and threw back her
head as she felt his warm mouth kissing above, below and all over her breasts, finally
enclosing her right nipple and sucking on it. Eva couldn't contain a moan of pleasure.
God, it felt so good! What had she so foolishly, so needlessly denied herself all these
years? She could feel herself heating up, becoming aroused, the black lace of her panties
adhering to the moist lips of her cunt. She almost dreaded to think what would happen
when he touched her down there. She'd probably become all unglued and make a
shameful exhibition of herself.
Eva didn't have long to wait to find out. She didn't remember all the details, only that
with no further taste for pie, or champagne or anything else on the table, they left the
dining room. Bringing the top of her dress up to cover her breasts, she went with Clyde
into the living room. He started toward the sofa. But the thought of Myra, Earl and the
dog there last night was much too recent in her mind for her to engage in sex on the
sofa. She couldn't recall exactly what she said or what excuse she used for them to find
their way upstairs to her bedroom.
She closed the Venetian blinds, then turned on the lights and stood before Clyde as he
sat on the edge of the bed the same way Ben used to do. She'd always thought it was
something peculiar to Ben. But now, in her slightly fuzzy mind, she guessed it must be
the prescribed way of doing things.
Again, Eva made no attempt to catch her gown as he tugged at it and brought it down
to bare her torso from the waist up, her bountiful breasts standing out from her body,
the nipples impudently erect. He started at her hips and began tongue-bathing her until
he got to her breasts. Then his teeth fastened on one of her nipples, caught it tight and
pulled it strongly into his mouth.
God she loved having her breasts sucked! She must have taken leave of her senses to
have done without it for so long. Funny, she had thought that only Ben's lips and
tongue could bring her to orgasm that way. But she could feel the pace of her body
increasing, the nerve-ends in her vulva starting to tingle.
She didn't realize that her gown had worked itself off her hips and slid down her legs to
form a pool of black lace around her ankles, until she felt Clyde's fingers hook into the
elastic waistband of her panties and give them a gentle tug downward.
"No," she protested, half-heartedly, as she made a mock gesture at pushing his hands
away.
"Stop the bullshit," he muttered indelicately. "You've been cock-teasing me all night.
You want it as much as I do."
Eva knew he was coarse, but this was the first time he'd ever talked to her the way he
had tonight and it frightened her a little. She suddenly wondered if this was such a
good idea and put a little more sincerity into trying to push his hands away. But he was
determined and he kept struggling until her panties were off. She was embarrassed that
he should find her so drenched.
Instead of showing some sensitivity and tossing the panties aside, as a gentleman might
have done, Clyde held them up to her and said. "Look at 'em, soaked. No broad gets
that wet, unless she's really aching."
Then he put the panties aside and paid due homage to her fantastic body. Aphrodite,
who was no lightweight according to the statues erected in her honor, could boast no
more perfect proportions than the woman standing before him. His eyes pored over her
form. Her flesh gleaming white against the sheen of her Hack garter belt, her black
hose and the luxurious crop of black hair between her flawless thighs.
"If I was a cunt-eater, believe me, Eva baby, I'd get down on you and gnaw my way
clear through to your asshole," he told her with characteristic crudeness. "But too bad I
just ain't got the stomach for it."
Even thought she wouldn't admit it, that was Eva's first big disappointment.
Cunnilingus, feeling the soft, hot lash of his tongue over her labia and her clitoris, had
been one of the great thrills she'd always experienced with Ben. Enjoyed it almost as
much as the insertion of his cock. She'd sort of been looking forward to Clyde starting
off that way. Now that he told her otherwise, she couldn't help but feel somewhat let
down.
"But all the rest, you'll get," Clyde promised her, as he grasped her hips and pulled her
down onto the bed beside him. He may not have been a pussy-nibbler, but there were
few other spots on her anatomy that he didn't kiss and lick and feel. So that by the time
he got off the bed to take off his clothes, she was wet and open and ready for him.
He undressed slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving her face. Eva couldn't help but
stare at him, as his strong, hairy, stocky body and powerful limbs became bared. He
truly looked as if he'd be a fair match for a gorilla. What shocked her most of all, was
when he removed his shorts and she saw his cock for the first time. It was an awesome
thing, bigger by inches than Ben's had been. Bigger, in fact, than she ever dreamed a
man could be.
Clyde let her look at his lustily formed phallus, a slight smile twisting his lips and
giving a glitter of pride to his bluish cast eyes. If Earl Holden could have looked
through the wall from next door and seen Clyde's mighty organ, he might have had
some misgivings about the size of his own.
"I sure as hell hope you're ready to give me one grand and glorious fuck, Eva baby,"
Clyde said as he started to climb back on the bed, his mammoth length of flame-tipped
cock preceding him. "Because like I told you, I've been waiting for this moment for
more than fifteen long, ball-achin' years."
A cold fear began crawling in the pit of her stomach as the thought of his strength, of
trying to accept all that cock, after so long an absence. Maybe it was just an old wives'
tale, but she'd heard somewhere that if a woman abstains for a certain number of years,
her vaginal opening shrinks and her hymen grows back. Fearful that it just might be
true, Eva crawled along the bed, seeking to escape the threat of his intimidating cock.
She let out a little cry and sprang to her feet at the far side of the bed in an attempt to
escape him.
Clyde caught her and flung her back onto the bed like a Raggedy Ann doll, his hands
mauling her flesh, his teeth sinking into her bare shoulders, her breasts. Eva now made
a more sincere effort to get away from him. She kicked and pushed up at him with both
hands. But nothing she did in the way of resisting had any effect and in an incredibly
short time, he had subdued her.
"Christ you're a piece!" he gasped. "You look better than ever when you're worked up."
He yanked her into his arms and his kiss sucked every ounce of breath from her lungs.
The feel of his naked and rock-hard physique numbed her brain and made the room
start to spin crazily. She pushed at him feebly, a tremor of mingled desires stirring in
her as his hands continued to roam her squirming flesh in a series of exploratory and
skillful probing. She wanted him fiercely, she wanted to know the sensation of a cock
deep in her belly again. But at the? same time his awkwardness, his roughness and the
abnormal size of his rampant weapon frightened her.
He positioned himself on his knees between her splayed legs. He looked down at her
dripping slit, the deep-pink lips slightly parted like a hungry mouth eager for
nourishment but not sure of the bitter taste. She was still squirming, still struggling to
get away from him as he slipped a free hand under her smooth buttocks and lifted her
so that the slit of dewy flesh half-concealed in her dark foliage offered a perfect target.
"Hold the goddamn wiggles 'til after I get in you," he told her. When she didn't obey,
he lowered his head and fastened his teeth on one of her quivering breasts, sending a
lancing pain through her. She cried out and ceased her struggling.
The frightened woman lay spread-eagled before him, her lushly quivering thighs parted
to reveal to his lusting gaze the moistly heated lips of her long untouched vagina. He
thrust his rock-hard torso in between her outspread legs and aimed his throbbing penis
toward her hungering pussy. God, how badly she wanted a stiff cock driving up inside
her, filling her wetly trembling cunt! She only now realized how long she had really
yearned for it. But, not this cock this gigantic-looking ramrod! It was too big, far too
big. It would surely rip her apart. She couldn't possibly accommodate her long unused
vagina to those outlandish proportions.
The rust-haired man had no mercy, however. For fifteen long years he had been lusting
to get the tearfully begging brunette into just this position. And now that he finally had
her where he wanted her, nothing was going to stop him from taking full advantage of
every inch of her desirable body. He roughly guided the purplish-red burgeoning head
of his throbbing cock up to the soft, palpitating moistness of her cuntal area. And once
there, he made no attempt to slip his cock-head in gently. He lunged forward with
ramrod force bludgeoning the dripping head of his fiery cock into her tautly clasping
pussy.
She screamed as she felt him breaking into per, tearing her flesh. He was so big... so
painfully big. She begged him to stop, tears welling in her eyes. But he drilled into her
stubborn flesh, relentlessly.
Oh God how different! How miserably different, than it had been with Ben. She knew
now, she had made a mistake. A wretched, grievous mistake. This man whom, for so
many years she had looked upon as a kind, sympathetic, compassionate friend, she
knew now was none of those things at least not when it came to sex. He was awkward,
cruel and bestial; utterly devoid of finesse. He went at her as if he were some kind of
animal and she his cornered mate. He tore into her body without mercy, pummeling
her with his outsized battering ram, unmindful that it had been more than five years
since she'd had intercourse. Her vagina was tender and delicate, unaccustomed to the
cruel way he was going at her. He didn't give her time to adjust. And then, just as she
was beginning to loosen up and conform to his size, and perhaps even get some
pleasure out of it, she could feel his cock enlarging to even greater size, and within
seconds his white-hot semen began pumping spurt after molten spurt up into the very
depths of her crying belly.
"Oooh... no...!" Eva sobbed deep in her throat, imploring him to try to hold back the
way Ben used to do. Hold back until she reached her peak and could come with him.
But it was too late.
Desperately, she clung to him with her arms and legs, sliding her cuntal lips up and
down the length of him, rubbing her pelvis frantically against the base of his spurting
cock, trying to bring herself on. But it was wasted effort. He was concerned with
nothing except his own relief and satisfaction. She had to be contented with a few mild
"skimming" climaxes he'd brought her along the way and be denied the big one she
was so much in need of.
When it was over and his great tool hung limply and lifelessly down between his hairy
thighs, he got off the bed. Eva guessed he might be going to the bathroom. Instead he
began putting on his clothes.
"I better make tracks before Myra comes home," he said.
Again, Eva suffered mixed emotions. She was a long, long way from being satisfied; her
need was even greater right now than when he first got into bed with her. Her cunt was
itching and burning, and she could feel a twisting and turning sensation in her belly.
But she could plainly see that she could expect no relief from him.
With Ben it had been so much different. With only brief intervals of fifteen minutes a
half hour at most Ben had been able to do it two and three times a night. He used to
have several derogatory names for men like Clyde "one loaders", "single shots", "hit and
run drivers".
On the other side of the coin, as frantically as her body may have craved release, once
Clyde got off her, Eva wasn't at all sure she would want him to mount her again even if
he could. Never could she remember having been so disappointed in a human being.
Despite his coarseness and his being uncouth, from the way he had treated her in the
past, she had expected he would be gentle and considerate of her. Instead, he had been
boorish, brutal, with no regard for her feelings; no concern to please anyone except
himself.
Clyde had almost finished dressing, when Eva got off the bed. She took a pair of fresh
white nylon panties from the dresser drawer. Without putting them on, she walked
toward the closet for a negligee. He paused in his dressing to watch her.
"Like I said downstairs, you really got a zoftig ass," he said.
Eva tightened but made no comment. She guessed after what happened, she could
expect him to talk to her like that. She took the negligee from a hanger and went into
the bathroom where she washed his oozing sperm from between her legs. By the time
she came out, he was dressed and ready to go.
Wearing only the negligee, the clean panties and a pair of heeled mules, Eva went down
the stairs with him to the front door. As she started to open the door, Clyde reached
down between her legs and grabbed her pussy-lips brutally. What he figured was
playfully affectionate, was actually hard and cruel. She had all she could do to keep
from crying out in pain.
"In case I didn't tell you, you're a damn good screw," he told her. "I'm lookin' forward
to next time."
He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head and took his wet lips on her cheek. The
next moment he was gone.


Chapter 6

Eva stood there for several long moments, with her back pressed against the closed
door. Her body was still burning with fever, her breasts felt tight-skinned and hot with
an electric urgency in them, her vagina was driving her out of her mind with its
prurient yearning. Maybe the champagne had something to do with it, but Clyde had
left her in one hell of a state.
She reached down and touched herself. It only seemed to aggravate her condition. She
knew that neither her fingers, nor the vibrator, or any other means of self-inflicted
eroticism could bring her the relief her body demanded. Maybe not even a man's penis,
unless it could sustain an erection the way Ben's did, could satisfy her. What her cunt
wanted, was to be licked, the way Ben used to lick it.
Then, as her longing took her to the ultimate heights of passion, she suddenly
remembered Duke. In her mind's eye she could see the dog licking Myra's breasts; the
expression of sheer delight in her daughter's eyes as his long, bright red, wet tongue
lapped away at her pink nipples. She wondered what it would be like to have the
dog... !
She interrupted the thought, tried to discharge it from her mind as obscene, perverted,
against all the laws of nature. But the gnawing idea persisted, growing stronger and
stronger until it became an obsession, driving all thought of being right or wrong from
her brain.
Eva finally straightened away from the door, breathing heavily, perspiring profusely.
She belted her negligee more securely around her, then brushing her hair back from her
face and catching it behind her ears, she hurried into the kitchen. She filled a plate with
scraps of meat from the roast she and Clyde had had for dinner. Then she returned to
the dimly-lighted hallway and followed it to the back door. She unfastened the latch
and opened the door and stepped out into the backyard. It was warm outside and with
the myriad of stars filling the heavens, it was just light enough to see.
Carrying the plateful of meat scraps, Eva moved through the shadows cast by the tall
fence, cautiously, noiselessly, unaware that her daughter had followed the same path
last night. Eva remembered the loose board in the fence that she had nailed shut. She
was surprised to find that the nail had been pulled loose and the board swung back,
easily, if squeakily, at her touch.
She heard Duke growl softly in the adjoining yard, saw his shadowy hulk slink forward,
inquisitively, menacingly.
"It's all right, Duke," she said in a stage whisper, as she pushed the plate of roast beef at
him, through the opening in the fence.
The dog halted and stopped growling. He recognized her scent and her voice, although
its tone puzzled him. He could never remember her doing anything else but yell at him,
scold him. He saw the plate of meat. It further confused him. As long as she'd lived in
the house next door, she had never offered him so much as a bone. But the meat
smelled good and he was hungry. That canned dog food his master had given him for
dinner was horrible.
Duke moved forward, carefully, took a closer sniff at the meat, then cleared half the
plate with a few swipes of his tongue. Even in the half-light, Eva could see the length of
his tongue and the mere thought of it running over her heated flesh erased any
lingering doubts or hesitations from her mind. She pulled the plate back from the dog
and he growled again, softly.
"Shh," she cautioned him in a sibilant whisper, not certain whether Earl might be home
and certainly not wanting to wake him if he should be. "You can have more, Duke all
you want. Just come with me." Holding the plate of meat in one hand and the board
open in the other, she persuaded the dog to come through the opening into her yard.
"Come on, fella."
With the plate held high just out of his reach, Eva got Duke to follow her through the
yard, into the house and upstairs to her bedroom. On the way, she stopped off for a
moment in the kitchen to get a glass and the second bottle of champagne from the
refrigerator. She just might need it, in case, at the last moment, she lost her nerve.
When they got upstairs, she closed the door and except for one particularly juicy slice
of beef shat she held in her hand, she placed the plate on the floor for Duke to finish.
While he devoured the meat, ravenously and then licked the plate clean, Eva unbelted
her negligee, let it slide down her arms and tossed it aside. She decided maybe she did
need that champagne after all, to give her "Dutch courage", to go through with what
she had in mind. She filled the glass twice and emptied it, while Duke went sniffing
around the strange room, looking for more meat.
Eva had never had so much to drink before in her life and found that the champagne
was very deceptive. Her mind was starting to get a little fuzzy but it did nothing to
quench the fire down below. After she'd had her second drink, she placed the glass
beside the bottle on the night-table beside the bed. Then she took the piece of meat she
was still holding and rubbed it over her stomach and breasts, making sure she got
plenty of its juice on her nipples.
She saw Duke sniffing and scratching at the door, trying to get it open, wondering why
it was closed. She threw herself backwards across the bed and still palming the piece of
meat in her left hand, called to the dog. "Come, Duke.
Up here. Up on the bed with Eva."
The dog looked at her, curiously, as if it were difficult for him to believe that this was
the same female who hit him with a broom that day, who was forever yelling at him.
But as he lifted his snout and sniffed the air, he detected the faint aroma of more meat.
He turned and padded to the side of the bed.
"Come on, Duke, jump up here," Eva coaxed him. "Be a good dog and come up here."
Duke cocked his head to one side, inquiringly. He wasn't allowed on beds except his
master's bed. He was always scolded and sometimes slapped and made to get down.
Now he was being invited and if he wanted more meat!
With one powerful leap, he bounded up onto the bed and looked down at the naked
female, clad only in a pair of wispy white panties, lying before him. He remembered
seeing the female they called Myra, lying naked like this in the backyard last night. He
remembered how good she smelled, how good she tasted until his master cuffed him
alongside the ear. He didn't like being hit on the ears. His ears were very sensitive.
Maybe that's what this female was going to do to him now. But then he caught another
scent of the meat she'd rubbed on her belly and breasts.
Even more slowly and warily than he had approached the bed, the big German
shepherd moved toward her, then began to lick warmly at Eva's smooth, ever so slightly
bulging belly.
Each hot lash of his tongue caused her naked flesh to ripple with heated pleasure.
"Ohh, God, ohh," Eva gasped as Duke licked higher and higher until his cold, wet nose
was nuzzling at her breasts. Then Eva sucked in her breath as she felt the animal's wet
tongue slither over her sex-hardened nipples, her breasts heaving with ever-mounting
passion until she achieved one of those "skimming" type orgasms that went through
her like a flat stone gliding over the surface of an agitated pond. Her eyes grew misty
with unrestrained passion and she looked down in wonderment at the huge head of the
dog thrust tightly against her squirming body.
"Ohhh, Duke, Duke," she murmured and as if in reply, the animal raised his eyes to
look at her in a new, strange light. As the waves of her lust swept over her, she
impulsively reached down and pulled the dog's handsome, silver-gray head up toward
her passion-softened face.
Duke's long tongue darted out and licked Eva's partly-opened lips. In the past, when
she saw the dog lick Myra's face, she thought it was dirty, ugly, unsanitary and told her
daughter so. But now to her utter astonishment, she discovered that it filled her with
almost as much of a thrill as when his tongue wetly laved her naked, tingling breasts.
Shamelessly and with unbridled passion, Eva allowed her own tongue to slither from
her mouth and for a moment, touch the dog's long, wet, rough tongue, causing shock
waves of unadulterated sensual pleasure to streak through her nervous system. It was
something that she never could have imagined herself doing in a million years, yet it
was happening. Maybe it was the champagne that was causing her to act in this
degenerated manner? Or was she just using that as an excuse? After all, wasn't this the
way she planned it before she even had those last two glasses of champagne?
Duke delighted in the warm, sweet taste of the woman's saliva, as Eva, mad for the
sensation of his tongue in other places, reached down with the hand that held the piece
of meat and smeared its remaining juice over the insides of her thighs and the crotch of
her panties.
Catching the scent of the beef juice, the dog backed away from Eva's panting mouth
and crawled down on the bed until his head was positioned between the woman's
quivering thighs. Without waiting for her word to go ahead, Duke began licking the
tender flesh of her inner thighs.
"Oh no, no!" Eva blurted out without meaning, her eyes widening in a sort of hypnotic
awe as she watched his head move slowly towards her lightly-covered, eagerly waiting
cunt.
"Aah..." Eva crooned as she felt the animal's cool, damp black nose move closer and
closer to his goal. Then he was sniffing curiously, over her moisture-soaked panties,
driving her to the heights of frustrated passion as his snout brushed gently, tenderly
over the highly susceptible flesh of her ravenous pussy underneath.
Here the scent of the meat was overpowered by an even more piquant bouquet that he
remembered smelling and tasting only last night when another, younger female lay
naked in the backyard. Eva could not keep her loins from bucking upward at the first
swipe of the dog's hot, wet tongue over her cuntal lips outside her whisper-weight
panties.
"Oooh... Ahh..." the woman groaned in shock as she held her buttocks up off the bed
and spread her legs as wide as they would go so his tongue could cover her entire
genitalia, from her anus to her pubic bush with each slow, measured swipe. It was
beautiful, heavenly but it still wasn't enough. She had to feel his tongue against her
naked flesh, deep in her gushing trough. "Wait, Duke, wait," she cried out to him,
pushing his face back from between her thighs.
The dog looked at her in bewilderment. She wasn't going to make him stop, chase him
the way his master did last night? Not after she told him to do it?
No, that was not it at all. All Eva wanted to do was drag off her panties, then she
spread her legs for him again, reached up, took hold of his head in both her hands and
brought it down between them to her nakedly, feverish vulva.
Without further urging, the dog's hot tongue snaked out to bury itself between her
nether lips, deep in the seething cuntal flesh itself.
"Oooh, God... Ohhh, my God," she kept repeating over and over, as if, like Clyde, it
was the only way she knew to express her true feelings. Her back arched upward and
her head was tilted back under the stimulation of the assault Duke was making on her
pussy. As if he had found his heart's desire, the dog centered all his attention on the
blue-black tangle of hair between her legs, licking hungrily now, his wet, hot tongue
slicking relentlessly through her yawning hole, dragging over her clitoris, each lick
bringing a deep moan of pleasure from the woman groveling beneath him on the bed.
She had to admit it even Ben at his best never brought her the anesthetizing sensations
that Duke was bringing her now with his merciless tongue. One orgasm dovetailed into
another until it was impossible to tell when one ended and another began. Lap, lap, lap
she could hear each swipe of his tongue slushing through her inundated flesh. Each
scalding lash seemed in itself an eternity of ecstatic pleasure, making the squirming
woman fully conscious of every infinitesimal part of her spasming cuntal flesh that the
probing tongue glided over.
It felt as if the massive animal's huge tongue was charged with some unexplainable
magic that teased every nerve-end in her body to a point past what she could bear.
Despite the minor climaxes she had experienced, Eva could still sense when the big one
the real whopper was nearing. There had to be one. There had to be an eventual all-out
release for the tension, the maddening sensations that Duke had licked into her helpless
loins... before he lost interest. Whether or not Duke knew what she was striving for, his
tongue began moving faster, deeper, as she writhed beneath him like a dervish. In a fit
of desperation, she lifted her legs up off the bed, then holding her knees down against
her flattened breasts with both hands, spread her pussy-lips as wide apart as they would
go, offering her entire burning cuntal plain to the slavering animal above her, so that he
could really dig into her and find the spot that would set her off.
That was going to do it... soon... very soon, Eva told herself with gratification as the
animal eagerly accepted the opportunity that her lewd position offered him, driving his
scathing tongue into her lush pussy flesh. She was going to cum. She could feel the
fragile bubble inside her already spasming... growing bigger... bigger... bigger... 
"Ohhh, God..." she screamed again. "Keep licking... licking... I'm... I'm going to cum...
Oh, faster, Ben... faster..." Somehow Ben had gotten mixed up in the fantasy unreeling
in her sub-consciousness. "Ohh, faster, my darling... don't stop... don't ever stop...
Ohh... Oh..."
NAnd then the bubble burst... and the all-out orgasm she had been seeking engulfed
her... and she transcended into a state of bliss that had no precedent... but by which she
would be able to measure all her sexual encounters that were up ahead.
Eva hated herself. She felt dirty and disgusted. She had chastised her daughter, slapped
her face, called her ugly names and even locked her in her room, yet what she caught
Myra doing on the sofa, wasn't nearly as bad as what she, herself, had allowed the dog
to do to her. Since Ben died she had refrained from sex like a novice after taking her
vows and then this going as far in the opposite direction as she could. Letting a dog
bring her to orgasm through cunnilingus.
She shivered with self-reproach. Caressing her body was one thing. Running her hands
over herself to admire the feel of her flesh, the shapeliness of her curves, even fingering
herself to bring a relaxation of tension, that was not censorable. Some authorities even
encouraged masturbation, claimed that aside from the few minutes of pleasure it
brought, it was good for a woman; advised them to practice it as much as they liked.
But to let a dog lick her off, that was something else again.
Never, never, never must she let it happen again! She promised herself that, after she
led Duke down the stairs into the kitchen, fed him several more generous slices of roast
beef, then maneuvered him out the back door to return to his own yard.


Chapter 7

Late in the afternoon when Eva returned home from her teaching job, she found
another note waiting for her from her daughter. In this one, Myra said she had gone
back to school to audition for a part in a school play that would be given at
commencement exercises. She wrote that she wouldn't be home for several hours but
asked her mother to save something for her to eat. Eva could see that Myra apparently
was still smarting over the way she had acted toward the girl night before last, even if
the tone of the note had softened somewhat from the first one she wrote. Maybe
because her mother hadn't done what she said she was going to do about Earl – and, of
course, now never would. In any event, to Eva it meant that everything was going to be
all right between them again in a very short while, and she would try without being too
obvious, to make it up to her daughter.
In this easier frame of mind, Eva went upstairs to her bedroom and disrobed.
Deliberately, she refused to look at her naked body in the mirror, refused to dwell any
longer on her sexual experience of the night before. She'd shower as she usually did
when she came home from school on hot days like this one. Then she'd dress up and
prepare a nice dinner for Myra and try to patch up what might be left of the breach
between them.
The bathroom was decorated in blushing pink and black with a tub and master shower.
Without bothering to close the bathroom door, Eva reached into the stall and turned on
the taps, adjusting the flow of water to the right temperature. Then she stepped under
the spray and closed the frosted glass door behind her.
The lukewarm needles felt good pelting against her fevered flesh, and she let the water
beat down upon her for several moments before reaching the soap and working up a
rich lather all over her body. She was particularly careful not to spend too much time
on her breasts, between her legs or any of her other erogenous zones. Then she rinsed
off the suds with a spray as cold as she could stand it and turned off the taps.
She pushed open the shower door and started to reach for a huge bath towel from the
rack as she stepped from the stall. Which is when she heard the faint wine that pulled
her startled gaze quickly toward the door that led in from the bedroom. She gasped.
There in the open doorway stood Duke looking up at her with love and adoration,
almost as if he were a human lover who had come upon her by surprise.
Eva had no way of knowing that this was the big German shepherd's second visit to the
house this afternoon. Earlier, when she returned from school, Myra heard him
scratching at the back door. He had nosed aside the board in the fence on his own and
crawled through the opening, uninvited.
Myra opened the door for him and, believing he was hungry, led him into the kitchen
and fed him what was left over from last night's roast beef. But that wasn't all the big
dog came for, as Myra soon discovered when he began pushing his snout between her
legs, nudging her cuntal area with his rubber-like black nose.
At first Myra told him to stop, pushed him away even started to lead him along the
hallway that led to the back door. But then she remembered the exquisite sensations his
tongue had brought her, night before last, licking her cunt and anus while she lay on
the blanket and Earl fucked her.
The mere thought of it sparked her loins, and midway along the darkened corridor, she
stopped to pat Duke's head then rub his ears as she directed his pointed nose at her
tingling mound. With each passing second, Myra could feel herself becoming more and
more aroused, the hot wet juices of her passion building up in her desire-flushed
vagina. With her shoulder blades pressed to the wall, eyes closed, mouth open and
gasping for greater and greater surges of air, she raised her skirt with her left hand until
it was up above her waist. Then with her right hand she pulled down her panties,
stepped out of them and spread her legs wide apart so that Duke could get his head
between them.
"Yes, Duke, yes, go ahead. Lick me, the way you did the other night," she panted, then
she quivered from head to foot in a paroxysm of rapture and joy as his tongue sluiced
through her inundated valley. She began moaning and squirming in a kind of delirium
as the dog continued to grow more and more zealous in his cunt-lapping.
He delighted in the succulence of the more tender flesh and not so copious or pungent
juices of this younger female he was eating. Although to the dog's taste the slightly
more robust flavor of the older woman was equally as toothsome, if not more so.
"Ohhhh, Duke... Ohhhh, Duke," Myra kept chanting over and over like a needle stuck
in the same groove of a record. She let her skirt drop over the animal's head, hiding it
from view as she used both hands to push up the bottom of her sweater and scoop her
breasts out of the cups of her bra. Fantasizing that they were Earl's hands, she squeezed
her fingers into the resilient dumplings, clenching the white orbs into unusual and
provocative shapes as Duke's tongue threatened to drive her crazy! It wasn't going to
take the prescribed three minutes... not even two... 
Her body arched upward away from the dog's tongue, straining tensely as she fought to
hold back her climax as long as possible. But he followed right after her, digging his
tongue deep into her slit, tormenting the sweet bud of her clit with cruel lashes.
Helplessly, she felt herself slip into a frenzy of furious lust as her orgasm enveloped 
her and she spewed her tribute into his hungry, slavering mouth... 
When it was over, she had all she could do to push his head from between her agitated
thighs. In spite of the intensity of her orgasm, she was not nearly satisfied. It was as if
the bomb in her belly had been only partly detonated; there was still a lot more of it to
be exploded. But she was afraid to let Duke do any more... Afraid he might get out of
hand and do some permanent damage to her. Certainly she didn't want that. After
finally finding out how wonderful sex could be, she didn't want to do anything to deny
her its further pleasures.
So with considerable effort, she finally led the big German shepherd to the back door,
put him out in the yard and told him, "go home now, Duke." Then, believing she had
closed the door, she had instead left it ajar.
Which explained Duke's presence right now in the bathroom, looking up at Eva
worshipfully. After all, hadn't she invited him into the house last night, fed him all that
meat and then given him his first real taste of human pussy?
Eva was frightened and not at all pleased with this strange conquest she had made. She
didn't want what happened last night to take place again. She had promised herself she
wouldn't let it. She had to get rid of the dog and right now!
Eva had looked into the refrigerator when she first came home to see what she could
prepare for dinner and discovered that the roast beef was gone. She guessed that Myra
must have been hungry and eaten it when she came from school. But Eva was sure she
could find something else with which to persuade Duke to leave. Cheese maybe? Dogs
like cheese.
Wrapping the bath towel around her middle so that it covered her breasts and reached
not quite midway down her thighs, Eva in her sweetest sounding voice, said, "Come
Duke let's go downstairs and find something for you to eat."
Without bothering to dry herself off, she dipped her toes into her tall-heeled mules and
started to go past Duke. He moved slightly to one side to make room for her at the
same time sliding his tapered nose up under one side of the bath towel.
"Stop, Duke," she told him as she pushed his head away and did a quick little sidestep
away from him. But he was right behind her as she started over the threshold, his nose
again up in the towel, this time in back, to run his tongue over her damp buttocks. She
took a hurried step into the bedroom and once more he followed right after her, edging
up the bottom of his towel with his snout.
She emitted a sharp, startled gasp, and her whole body went taut as she felt Duke's
tongue glide over her anus, puckering the flesh and causing a hot stab of sensation to
shoot up through her body.
"Oh no, Duke, you mustn't..."
She tried to duck away from him, but the dog pursued her relentlessly, licking her
buttocks and the insides of her thighs from behind.
"Be a good dog and stop, Duke!" she begged him, her voice unsteady with sudden,
unwanted emotion. "Be a good dog and we'll go downstairs and find you something to
eat... some... some meat maybe..."
The only meat he wanted right now was between her legs. He'd caught the scent and
just a taste of it with the tip of his tongue. It whetted his appetite, and he wouldn't be
satisfied now until he had more.
Whether by accident or design, even Eva couldn't be sure... but the towel slipped from
her body and fell to the floor, leaving her totally naked. With her back still to the dog,
she stooped forward to pick it up. Then with a squeal she quickly dropped it as she felt
the dog's long probing tongue start somewhere between her thighs and continue along
through the deep crease that separated her buttocks, finishing at the base of her spine.
She straightened at once, the sensation it brought her, almost more than she could bear.
She pushed his head away once more and turned to face him. She bent forward to hold
his head back away from her but not so far that he couldn't reach her dangling breasts
with his long tongue. In spite of her protests and the promises she'd made to herself,
she could feel herself heating up... weakening.
"Duke, Duke?" she wailed with pretended gravity. "What am I going to do about you?
What am I going to do?"
He went right on tonguing her tasty nipples, sending electric waves of pleasure
spiraling through her with each swipe. Gradually she began relaxing her hold on him so
his tongue could reach her belly, then the black muff between her legs, damp from the
shower and the more flavorful liqueur from her palpitating cunt. He felt good... oh so
good! Would it be so terrible if she let him do it again? Just this once?
The next moment she had answered her own question. Throwing all her promises, all
her good intentions, all her evaluations of what was right and wrong inside, Eva
sprawled out on her back on the bed, as naked and sex-famished as she had been the
night before.
This time, Duke needed no invitation to bounce up onto the bed. He stood there,
hovering over her, his legs wide apart, his wetly wriggling tongue hanging down out of
one side of his open, panting mouth. His hot eyes roved the banquet of female flesh
spread out before him.
Eva was panting, too, as she felt the warm saliva from his mouth drip onto her breasts
and belly. She was hot as a pistol as she stared up at the dog's tongue, remembering
how it had made her feel last night, the sheer ecstasy it had brought her.
She closed her eyes as she felt Duke sniffing at her loins, licking through her bush,
trying to nudge her thighs apart so he could get at her slit. But she kept her legs
pinched tightly together as she reached down and brought up his head.
"Not yet, Duke," she told him in a pinched voice. "Later. I want you to lick all over me,
first."
The big animal seemed to sense what she wanted him to do. He started by licking her
face, then her shoulders and beneath her armpits. She was very sensitive there, and she
wiggled about on the bed under his tongue. She next directed his attention to her
breasts, letting him lick her nipples to raw redness before turning over and lying face
down on the mattress. She never realized how delightful it was to have her anus licked.
Of all the things they'd tried together, Ben never thought of doing it to her back there.
By the time Duke finished with her rear hole, she was wet and gaping and ready for
him to go to work on her front hole. Remembering what Ben always said, "Never do it
the same way twice in a row," Eve didn't turn over. Instead, she lifted herself to her
knees, and partly supporting herself on her elbows, spread her legs apart and let him
approach her cunt from the rear. That was the way dogs did it anyway, wasn't it?
It was delightful, surpassing any and all hopes Eva might have had in her mind. It felt
even better than when he had done her in front. At least it did this first time. She kept
shaking her hips, pushing her rump up and back against him as if trying to get his
tongue to reach deeper and deeper, scratch that awful itch in the fathomless recess of
her belly.
As she had done last night, Eva wished it would never end as each long, studied
rhythmic stroke of his tongue seemed to send her to a new high in ecstasy. She felt as if
she wanted to cum each time his tongue started its sweep down near her belly,
scratched over her clitoris, dragged between her dripping cuntal lips and then along the
velvety smooth crease of her ass-cheeks. She could tell when she was starting to cum.
She began receiving those hot little warning fleshes that seemed to start at the root-ends
of her hair, the tips of her fingers and toes, and flow with a gathering momentum and
ferocity through her limbs and body. She was just seconds away when to her horror
Duke stopped his excruciatingly delightful licking of her treasured flesh. She turned her
head to look up at him over her shoulder. He was slowly backing away from between
her splayed legs, her upturned pussy and buttocks.
She rolled over quickly onto her back and looked up at the hulking German shepherd.
"What is it, Duke?" she demanded, miserable with the thought that he might leave her
unsatisfied the way Clyde did. "Please, Duke. Please. Eva wants you to do it to her. The
front way if you like. But please don't stop now, Duke. Lick me... lick..."
She opened her legs wide for him and showed him her pink, dripping, open flesh. And
then as he backed away just a little further, she saw his cock!
Wide-eyed, her breath and her words jammed in her throat, she gaped at the size of the
wet, bright crimson dagger that was slowly issuing from the hairy sheath beneath the
animal's belly. The tapered end dripped and dropped and wavered in ever-growing size
and stiffness before the woman's starkly staring eyes. Eva very obviously had not been
the only one aroused by the licking of the soft, moistly heated flesh between her thighs.
Instinctively, the overpowering pungent scent and taste of her aroused female flesh had
piqued the dog's highly responsive senses.
It was clear to her, too, that befuddled and overwhelmed by the growing pressure of his
sacs, Duke had instinctively backed away, incapable of coping at the moment with his
sensuous overcharge. He stood now, falteringly uncertain before Eva's stunned gaze,
waiting, whimpering with hopeful anticipation, his flaming red penis growing long and
harder with each passing second.
Eva found it impossible to gather together her thoughts into any form of sane reasoning
as she brought her legs together and clenched them protectively and stared with fear
and fascination at the dog's organ in all its full, glowing, glistening hardness. Then
slowly she became conscious of the sexual cravings that the animal's unsheathed phallus
was arousing deep in her frustrated vagina. As if under some diabolical hypnotic spell,
Eva let herself slowly become immersed in a desperate need for relief before she really
became aware of the depraved thought formulating in her brain. A thought too lewd for
even the most perverted person.
Eva wanted Duke to fuck her with that glistening bright red cock that the spicy smell
and taste of her heated body had excited and caused to grow to such fantastic,
breathtaking dimensions. A fierce battle raged in the woman's sex-distorted brain. What
harm would it do if she let the dog fuck her? Who would know? Immediately she
answered her own questions. She herself would know, and the memory of the
horrendous act might haunt her the rest of her living days.
Like a person caught between two fires, Eva fought ignominy with sexual hunger,
trying to beat out the flame of one with the flame of the r. But her passion was raging
out of control, must have relief, her body screamed. Helplessly, almost as if she were
being forced into it by some third person, she reached the pillow upon which her black
thatched head had been resting and shoved it beneath her buttocks, lifting herself.
Slowly she opened her thighs until they were wide apart, her cunt wet and sticky with a
gauzy film upturned in unmistakable invitation. Her dark eyes glistened with carnal
desire as she drew her legs back, straining, until her knees touched the swollen nipples
of her huge breasts.
Looking down between her splayed legs, she could see that Duke was in need of little
further coaxing. His glistening, bright scarlet projectile was dripping animal pre-cum on
the sheet; his testicles were filled with a bubbling heat that would soon be squirting into
her aching belly.
Crazed now with lust, she cried out to the dog, "Now, Duke, now... fuck me... Oh, fuck
me good!" She sounded more like Clyde in her lascivious ravings than like the prim
school teacher she had appeared to be for these past few years. Still holding her legs
back with one hand, with the other she reached down and parted the soft juicy lips of
her cunt, spreading the fleshy pink folds apart, enticing him into her dark, palpitating
tunnel. "Oh, now, Duke. I'm ready. Stick it in me... deep and hard!"
Even though Duke might not have understood her words, he could not mistake what
she wanted him to do by her obscene actions. His own loins ached with wanting. He
moved his huge furry body forward, his strong legs planted at either side of her naked
hips. He touched the hot pouting pink petal lips of her open pussy with the fiery tip of
his incredibly firm animal-penis.
Sparks of obscene excitement further enflamed Eva as she reached down beneath him
and caused him to whine deep in his furry throat as she gently caressed the aroused
length of his slippery cock. Without allowing even one sane thought to enter her brain
and muddle her thinking, Eva eased his rampant cock between the soft, suctioning lips
of her fluttering pussy and then deep into the steaming cauldron between her thighs.
She moaned ecstatically. "Oooooh, Duke... you're so big... so hard... you feel so good.
Ooooh, fuck me... fuck me as if I were your favorite bitch... Ooooh, good..."
The instant the big German shepherd felt her glutinous cunt-flesh engulf the length of
his hypersensitive cock, he needed no more encouragement, no more instructions.
Turned wild with his own lust, the excited beast became overzealous in his eagerness to
stars humping, and his cock slipped out of the moistly flaming cleft. Sliding and
dancing in her hot juices, his needle-tipped penis tried desperately to find the hole
again. It poised for a moment at the entrance to her velvety, puckered anus. But she
twisted away with a kind of revulsion before he could ram his way into it.
Whimpering with frustration, Duke began making desperate humping motions without
making contact until Eva reached down under his body again and grasped the animal's
sticky penis in her hand. His whimpering blended into a whine of delight as he felt her
cool, gentle fingers guide his painful shaft slowly forward, finally fitting it once more
between her passion-bloated cunt-lips. Up and down the length of his sharp-tapered
cock, Eva slid sensuously, making sure it was well-oiled with her own heated sex-fluid.
"Now, Duke... ram it... all the way in... and fuck me!" she breathed and Duke obeyed
her instruction.
Instinctively, mercilessly, he fucked forward, driving the prodigious length of his 
dogcock into the depths of her vagina, never stopping until he bottomed, and she could feel
his cum-bloated balls pressing against her distended pussy lips. The moment Duke
sensed his complete penetration, he began to ram into her with powerful pile-driver
thrusts, mechanically dog-fucking the moaning, passionately squirming female human
beneath him.
Eva could feel his cock swell with the hot, surging blood of his insane desire, deep in
her cuntal strait. She was forced to shift her position somewhat so he wouldn't slip out
again. But he had apparently learned his lesson and kept his furry belly close to her
hairy back loins.
Wild delights of depraved rapture rippled through Eva's brazenly submissive nakedness,
and she moaned continuously as she twisted and wiggled beneath him, offering the
entire span of her obscenely wet genitalia up to him in wanton submission. Straining
her neck upward to observe with her own eyes this mad sexual act she was performing,
Eva was actually able to watch with lascivious fascination as the dog's long, crimson
member plunged in and out of her flooded furrow banging clear into its furry hilt and
then sliding out, dripping and red, almost as if it had been dipped into a trough of fresh
paint.
No longer did Eva keep her legs pulled backwards. Instead, she kicked them out at each
side of him, then wrapped them tightly around his powerful body, locking them against
his muscled back, n this way she could lift her aching loins higher and meet his frantic,
jackhammer thrusts with a lurid grinding of her own furry pelvis. Violent now with
passion, Duke's hair-covered underbelly and loins kept hammering and slapping
rhythmically against her taut body.
Mewling pagan encouragements to her animal-seducer, Eva. beyond all scope of shame
or sanity, rotated her hips and her cuntal area up at him, grinding the hungry,
suctioning walls of her torrid pussy hotly around the ever-stiffening, ever-swelling
crimson length of Duke's piercing cock. Lost in her overwhelming passion, she let out a
gasp of bliss that was torn from deep in her interior and gave herself to the big, brutish
animal as completely as she had ever offered herself to Ben. At this incredibly beautiful
moment nothing else in the whole world mattered... nothing!
She could feel herself rapidly approaching the pinnacle of beautiful, total fulfillment
that she knew would not be denied her. In wildly frantic desperation, she ground her
immorally naked body up hard to meet him, thrust for thrust. Her loins crawled with
sensation of hot dancing daggers of undeniable lust, her fiercely seething belly filled
with the promise of a truly complete and satiating climax... perhaps a savage blending
of their dual orgasms... animal and human!
Only a few heartbeats more... and... and then it hit her with the fierceness of a
thunderbolt... the internal blast of an underground atomic explosion! She screamed like
a wailing witch, her spasming body twisting and turning like a snake on a hot grill. She
clenched him between her sweating thighs, writhing against him in excruciating
pleasure. She squeezed her cuntal walls tighter and tighter, imprisoning his scarlet
length in her liquid pergola.
His response was to hammer against her with even faster, stronger, relentless rhythm
and then suddenly he was ejaculating. Round after round of torrid, almost white-hot
cum he blasted into her spasming guts, shattering her mind.
Eva screamed again, derangedly, "Aaaaaggghh! I'mm ccuuummmmiinnnnggg!"
Her grasping cunt moved convulsively, milking the humping animal of his eruptive
juices that mingled with her own, filling her to overflowing. She could feel the warm
trickle of their mingled cum oozing from between the ravaged, now inflamed lips of her
gaping hole to dribble down the insides of her fleshy white thighs and over her
buttocks. Another muffled gasp of completion escaped her panting mouth as she
disentwined her legs from his furry body and let them fall to the bed at each side of
him.
And then she felt as if the big animal were dragging part of her insides with him as he
eased his softening canine-penis from the still suctioning grasp of her vagina.
She saw him move back from her and jump down from the bed. The next moment he
was out the door and bounding down the stairs, leaving her lying there on the bed,
curled up in a fetal position, unable to think... not wanting to think... not daring to
think of what had happened to her.


Chapter 8

When sanity finally returned to Eva, she continued to lie there on her back on the bed,
telling herself it had all been a dream. A wild, impossible nightmare. She couldn't have
let an animal do such a thing to her. It was against all her moralistic teachings, against
her very nature. Yet, when she sat up on the bed and looked down between her splayed
legs, the evidence was there. The sheets were stained. Not with the clear, colorless
secretion from her own sex. But the thick, milky cum of a male she shuddered to add
the word dog!
What in the name of God had taken hold of her senses? What kind of a wicked,
perverted thing had she allowed herself to do? Had she lost all measure of decency and
reason to stoop to such a demonic act, to actually have had intercourse with a dog? Her
body began to shudder with guilt and anger and shame, forcing tears to flow unchecked
down her cheeks. How, in the name of all that was clean and pure and decent, had she
ever allowed herself to become a part of such an unholy act to defy the very laws of
nature to indulge in such degeneracy?
It was the prelude to madness, to degeneration, to a breakdown of every moral fiber she
had ever known. She had engaged in sex, all-out sex, with a dog, a non-human animal.
She had let the German shepherd fuck her!
She felt suddenly ill. She jumped from the bed and hurried across the room, careful to
avoid looking at herself in the mirror. In her shame, she wasn't sure she ever wanted to
look at herself again. This time she closed the bathroom door behind her, got under the
shower again and scrubbed herself inside out until her flesh glowed a bright pink, and
she was sure every last trace of the dog's lust was gone.
She stayed in the bathroom for what seemed an eternity. When she came out, she
opened the door very carefully to make sure that Duke had not returned. To make
doubly certain, she closed the bedroom door that led into the hallway. Then she looked
at the rumpled bed. The sheets were stained, reeking of lust. Base, evil lust. She
changed the bed before she even started to dress. Clean sheets, clean pillowcases, a few
sprays of perfume and it was ready again. Quickly she took the soiled sheets and cases
and stuffed them into the hamper in the bathroom.
Out of sight, out of mind she hoped. Only it did not work out that way. She could hear
the dog's concupiscent whining so strongly in her mind that she actually hurried to the
hall door and opened it on a crack to make sure he was not outside. As she closed the
door and went to the dresser and took a fresh panty-girdle from the drawer, she could
feel the heat and the length of the dog's flaming cock as if it were still impaled in her
vagina, the ejection of his fiery tribute rocketing deep into her belly.
It was a frightening thing, and Eva knew that she was dallying dangerously close to the
brink of insanity, and that it would take very little to push her over the edge and turn
her into some kind of raving mad sex pervert. As she started to put on the girdle she
told herself that she must find a way to forget what had happened; she must rid her
mind and her body of the memory and the feelings of the dog possessing her.
In days gone by there was a theory that the one sure way to forget one hurt was to
draw attention away from it with another hurt. Maybe that was the solution to her
problem? Maybe she could alleviate the shame of what she had allowed the dog to do to
her with something equally as distasteful?
Clyde Thomas popped immediately into her mind. After all, she had used him
successfully to prove that she was not sexless or dried up. Why couldn't he be used to
help her rid her mind and body of her shameful experience with the dog? True, the
man was brutish and without compassion. But that could be her penance for the mortal
sin she had committed. The pain he would bring her would help to absolve her of her
transgression, her momentary lapse into moral depravity.
Before she changed her mind or lost her courage, Eva called Clyde from the extension
phone in her bedroom. Since she wasn't sure when Myra would be home, she thought
it better if they met at his house. Of course, she would have liked being home when
Myra returned from school. She had looked forward to having dinner with the girl and
to taking the opportunity to patch up their differences. But seeing Clyde was even more
important. Until she did, until he helped her to rid herself of the corruption left in her
mind and body by the dog, she wasn't even sure she could face her daughter.
"Meet you at my place, baby?" Clyde blustered characteristically into her ear over the
wire when she called him at his place of business and told him what she'd like to do.
"Sure thing. You set the time. You tell me when you'll be there."
She told him in about an hour. That would give her time enough to dress and drive
across town to where he lived.
"I'll be there, baby," he promised her. Then as an afterthought, he added, "Man-ohman, 
that twat of yours must be really barking for you to want another helpin' so
soon."
Eva winced. Barking wasn't the most fitting word he could have used under the
circumstances. But she made no comment.
It wasn't until after she hung up that she allowed herself her first look in the mirror.
The way her long, straight black hair hung down, half-covering her face and shoulders,
plus the expression in her eyes, certainly made her look sensuous enough to verify his
remark. But the girdle she had put on would never do. So she peeled it down off her
hips and legs and tossed it back into the drawer. She searched for a suitable pair of
panties. But the only ones she had were in the hamper.
Making sure that the hallway was clear, she hurried into Myra's room and in one of the
dresser drawers she found a pair of bikini-type panties. The panties were sized too
small, gripping tight to the line of her groin where in joined her shapely legs and
accentuated the prominence of her luxurious hair-covered mound. Returning to her
own room, Eva did not bother to put on a bra but chose a summer-weight dress with
one already built in. Her legs were tanned enough from working in shorts in the garden
to go without stockings, even though she'd never gone without them before. But then,
there had never before been an occasion quite like this one, when she was going to see
a man for the sole purpose of being seduced.
Admittedly, when she was finally dressed and looked once more into the mirror, Eva
was a little shocked and self-conscious at her reflection. Her full breasts jellied
deliciously back and forth under her dress each time she moved, and the material of her
skirt outlined her ample buttocks and molded to her thighs and rounded belly in front.
If ever there was a luscious-looking sex image, she was it at this moment. Fortunately,
she would be able to get right into her car at the side of her house and step out at the
curb directly in front of where Qyde lived. So that no one would see her in this
unaccustomed costume, except he and after all, wasn't he the one for whom she had
dressed so revealingly?
She took a moment after she got downstairs in the kitchen to write a brief note for her
daughter. She'd be glad when this means of communication was ended and they could
go back to being the way they were acting and treating each other like normal human
beings. She told Myra she had to go out on a very important mission and probably
wouldn't be back until late. She suggested that Myra could have dinner by herself, and
since there was a refrigerator full of food and Myra was as good a cook as she, there
was no danger of the girl going hungry.
Less than fifteen minutes later, a little more than an hour after she had spoken to Clyde
on the telephone, Eva pulled her car to a halt at the curb in front of his house and
hurried across the lawn to his front door. It was a two-story house, not unlike her own.
Except this was a brick house, while hers was frame.
As he promised, Clyde was waiting for her when she arrived. He gave her a hurried
appraisal as she stood before him in the open doorway.
There was no subterfuge, no pretending the way there was the last time. She was there
for one purpose and he knew what it was, even if he didn't know why.
He waited only until she stepped inside and he closed the door after her, then he
cupped one of her breasts and squeezed it.
"Christ, you got the tits!" he exclaimed. Then he put his arms around her and hugged
her to him, making sure she felt the bone beneath the right leg of his trousers, against
her thighs. "And that's what I got for you, Eva baby."
Eva fought not to gag as his lips closed over hers. Her lack of response didn't seem to
faze Clyde in the least. He forced her lips to part and accept his fat, hot tongue.
"Don't... don't you think we ought to at least wait until we get into the living room?"
she asked him, somewhat flustered, when her mouth was free again.
"Sure, sure," he agreed without apology. "All I want is a little feel."
Eva could feel her body turning to stone as his rough hands pawed about her hips.
Strangely, she hadn't had this aversion to his hands the last time. In fact, she had
welcomed them. Maybe she felt the way she did now because she knew what was in
store for her -how unfeeling and rough he could be. Nevertheless, she let herself be
touched. Let him put a hand under her skirt and run it up along her bare thighs and
over the tight panties she'd borrowed from Myra, which in spite of herself, were already
starting to get wet, under his probing.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice noticeably thickening with desire. "Let's get into the
living room, like you said." He let her lead the way, feeling her buttocks as he walked
behind her. "You know what I'm gonna do one day? I'm gonna shove this cock right
up in this zoftig ass of yours."
Eva couldn't refrain from shooting a look at him over her shoulder. Not so much
because of his coarseness that she guessed she must be getting used to by now, but to
let him know that anal-intercourse was one thing he could forget about. Even with Ben,
she never tried sodomy because she considered it degenerate and distasteful. She
certainly had no intention of ever doing it with anyone else.
When they got into the living room, he grabbed her from behind, squashed his cock
against her well-cushioned buttocks and with a hand covering each of her breasts, he
kissed the side of her neck, leaving a big, red mark there. He removed one of his hands
from her bust and slid open the long zipper at the back of her dress. He brushed the
material aside and began dragging his lips and tongue up along her spine, leaving a trail
of saliva behind them.
She caught her dress at her breasts as it slid down off her shoulders and he turned her
around to face him.
"What's this bullshit?" he damned with annoyance at her holding the dress up in front
of her, hiding her breasts. He grabbed her wrists and held them out to the sides, so that
the dress glided down her body and down her long legs to the floor. In spite of the fact
he'd seen her completely naked before, he let out a gasp as he ogled her standing there
before him in nothing except her tall heels and the too-small bikini panties she'd
borrowed from Myra, bursting-full with pubic hair and swollen pussy-lips.
It was just too much for him to bear. He flopped down onto the couch and, wearing
only a sports shirt and slacks, he leaned back, thrust out his legs and, indicating the
throbbing lump in his pelvic area, said to Eva, "Take it out!"
Eva looked down at him and took a deep breath. She remembered that Ben had told
her, one of the greatest thrills a woman can give a man is taking out his cock. She
wasn't overly enthusiastic about doing it. But since Clyde was going to do her a big
favor, she guessed it was no more than right that she pay him one in return.
She moved forward until she was between his outthrust legs. Then with a carefullyguarded 
sigh of resignation, she leaned into him, her big breasts dangling pendulantly.
She let him fondle them for a moment, until she felt his fingers exciting her too much,
then she brushed his hands aside and told him to relax.
It had been a long time, since she had unfastened a man's belt and unzipped his fly and
at first she was a little awkward, a little self-conscious. But she finally managed to get
both of them open and then after another brief moment of hesitation, she dug a hand
inside his trousers and under his shorts. She found him a slippery mess, but didn't let it
bother her as she worked his cock out into the open, then drew back and looked down
at it. It seemed bigger and more ominous than when she first saw it, but she knew this
was no time to be squeamish. She took hold of it again in her right hand.
"Oh, Jeez," he moaned as he closed his eyes, tilted back his rusty-thatched head and let
his hands fall to the couch at each side of him with a kind of sublime helplessness.
Eva's cool, soft, knowing fingers sent incredible sensations surging through him as they
danced lightly over the length of his fevered flesh, unmindful of the steady flow of 
precum from his spongy cock-head.
Obviously, he told himself, she'd had plenty of experience playing with Ben's cock. The
son-of-a-bitch may have been his best friend, but he hated the bastard's guts every time
he thought of him in bed with Eva. He never dreamed she'd one day be like she was
now, standing before him stripped almost naked, playing with his prick. Now maybe he
didn't begrudge Ben. all those times he'd been with her. Because Ben had taught her
good. Damn good! Because she knew exactly where and how to touch his cock for
maximum effect.
Clyde began wiggling his buttocks around on the cushions of the couch, as the finesse
of her knowing contacts rapidly drained him of his strength, even though his shaft
seemed to be growing bigger and harder the more she toyed with it.
"Suck it!"
The words brought Eva's manipulations to an abrupt standstill. She took her hand from
his cock as she straightened away from him and stared down at him, as if she wasn't
entirely sure that she had heard correctly.
Her sudden silence and the absence of her hands caused his eyes to open. He looked up
at her and frowned. "What the hell's with you?"
"What you said..."
"I said suck it!"
She jerked back as if struck full in the face. "You... you can't be serious."
His frown deepened. "You gonna try to tell me you never sucked Ben's cock?"
"He... he was my husband."
"So what? Make believe I'm your husband." He grew impatient. "C'mon, c'mon get
down on it."
Eva began shaking her head, the thought of taking his big fierce-looking cock into her
mouth made her feel nauseous. She started to back away from him. But he straightened
quickly and his hand dove for her panties. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh
between her legs and squeezed hard.
"You gonna do what I say?" he snapped.
"Yes... yes..." Eva felt tears of pain leap into her eyes. Slowly, miserably, she came back
to him and on command dropped to her knees between his legs.
Even with Ben, fellatio had never been one of her favorite pastimes. She did it only
because she knew it pleased him so much. To do it to anyone else had always been
unthinkable. But here, now, she was being forced into doing it to Clyde.
Worse still, it wasn't what she had come for. Sucking him off wouldn't do her a bit of
good. What she needed was his cock in her vagina.
"Do it the other way first," she tried to persuade him. "I'll be good, very good. Then I'll
do you this way, with my mouth. I promise."
He shook his head. "I fuck you, I maybe won't feel like having you do it this way."
"I'll make you feel like it," she promised in her desperation.
He kept shaking his head, insistently. "No dice. I want it like this now!"
When she made a gesture as if she might be going to back away from him, he grabbed
a handful of her long, black hair and pulled her head forward, until his firm male flesh,
curving up from out of his open fly, was only inches from her face. She could see he
was clean. He must have bathed just before she arrived and then doused himself with a
pungent male cologne. She could smell it faintly rising from his open fly.
She flushed with a kind of miserable and bitter shame that she should be made to do
this deplorable thing. It was all she could do to keep from sobbing and holding back
her tears. She could smell his strong male odor now overpowering the scent of the
cheap cologne as he brought her face closer to his rampant cock.
She knew there wasn't a thing she could say that would change his mind, not a
possibility in the world of her getting away. She had to do as he wished!
A withering shiver went through her as she ran her tongue over her lips, parted them as
wide as they'd go and then took his cock-head in her mouth. She closed her eyes tightly
and heard Clyde say, "You don't need no instructions, baby... you just do like you done
to your old man when he was alive."
The glans felt enormous in her mouth, silky and rubbery and with a slight salty taste.
She sucked, trying to remember all the things that Ben had told her to do that added so
much to his pleasure. What the hell, as long as she had to do it, she may as well do the
best job she possibly could. She guessed maybe it was part of her makeup to want to be
like that.
She ran her tongue against the sensitive triangle of nerve ends on the underside of the
head, where it joined the main stem. She remembered how Ben told her to dip her head
slowly so that she could take as much of his cock into her mouth as possible. As far as
Clyde, was concerned, that wasn't too much, at first. Because the size of him gagged
her. But she continued the up-and-down movement of her head, brushing her tongue
against the glans all the while.
"Ooooh," she heard Clyde say to no one in particular. "Ben was a fuckin' good teacher.
He taught you to suck cock real good. Yes siree, you're the greatest. Terrific! Oooooh,
just keep suckin'..."
She felt him stroke her hair and then brush the long silky black strands aside so he
could look down and watch her lips sweep up and down the length of his cock. She
couldn't help but be flattered by his compliment, even if it was for such a base thing as
sucking cock. She just liked to know she was good at everything she attempted. But it
wasn't only Ben's teachings. She had an instinctive skill, a natural talent... a gentle yet
firm grip of the hand, a soft gentle sweep of the tongue... an inborn knowledge of all
the right spots to touch and just how much pressure to apply.
Only her jaws were beginning to get a little tired and she was starting to slow up a
little. That made Clyde annoyed. "What the hell's wrong?"
"You're so big," she mumbled around his cock-head. "My jaws ache."
"Tough shit!" he rumbled. "But don't you stop now! Whatever you do, keep sucking.
Suck till I tell you to stop, you understand?"
She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze and nodded. Then she went back to sucking. The
truth was that in spite of her jaws tiring she actually was beginning to half-enjoy
sucking his huge cock. Her cunt still ached for him, but she knew there was nothing
she could do about that until she was finished with this chore. Maybe then she could ... 
She stopped thinking about it and concentrated on his cock. She found she was able to
take more and more of it, all the way back down into her throat, still using her tongue
to add to the joy she was bringing to him. And there was no question in her mind that
she was doing that.
She could hear his breathing becoming deeper, more laborious. Then his hands cradled
her face, the ultimate sign of his readiness. "My balls," he panted. "Squeeze my balls
softly. Tickle my asshole."
During the interim, he had worked his slacks and underpants down almost to his
knees, so that she could carry out his instructions... gently squeeze his testicles and as
distasteful as it might have been to her, ream a finger into his anus.
She could feel his cock starting to swell up, flooding with his semen, and she knew that
moment was at hand.
"Ooooh, Christ!" he spat. "Here it comes! Oooh, suck! Suck and pull, you bitch! Suck
like you never sucked a cock before in your life... aaaggghhhhh! I'mmmmmm poppin'
myyyyy nuuuuutttss... !" he groaned gutturally.
She felt his cock leap in her mouth, violently, and a jet of his sticky hot semen spurted
far back in her throat. She had half his cock in the warm wetness of her mouth, when
the first blast erupted. She gagged and reflexively tried to pull her mouth off him.
"Fuck that shit!" he growled and yanked on her hair. With no trace of gentleness, he
forced her to keep his spurting cock in her mouth as the mushroom-shaped head
banged and plowed her palate, and he barreled what seemed like quarts and quarts of
his hot cum down her throat and into her belly.
Though she coughed, gagged and struggled to break away from him, he didn't release
her until the last trace of semen had flowed out of him. Then he shoved her away from
him with disgust and she fell backwards onto the floor, a trickle of his sperm oozing
from one corner of her mouth.
She lay there, breathing heavily, her hair disheveled, her eyes wild. At no time in her
life, not even when Duke finished with her, had she felt so depraved. Her body ached
with the fever of passion. Her cunt throbbed hungrily for the nourishment of his cock.
Truly, she felt she would go mad if she didn't have him. Miserably, frantically, she crept
back to him on hands and knees. Greedily, like a great starving cat, Eva rubbed the side
of her face, her cheeks and finally her lips against the limp length of flesh in his lap.
Gently, she lifted it in the palm of her hand and began licking the shriveled, spongy
head, hoping to revive him, to bring the stiffness back into him so he could bring her
the relief for which her body was screaming.
Roughly, he pushed her head away and glared down on her. "What the fuck d'ya think
you're doing?"
"I... I want you to get hard," she breathed, piteously.
"You gotta be kiddin'," he said.
She shook her head, frantically. "No, Clyde – please... I need you... it's important to
me... please..."
His face twisted into a mask of contempt and he pushed her away with his foot,
disgustedly. "There's one thing I can't stand is a whining female... a broad that begs for
it. I musta been outta my goddamn mind to think you were something special, all these
years. You're nothing but a piece of ass, a cock-sucking piece of ass at that." He got to
his feet and pulled up his shorts and slacks and adjusted them, hiding his cock from her
sight. "You want it, you'll wait'll next time. Or you can go out and peddle your ass
along Wisconsin Avenue. Now get your things on and get the hell outta my sight.
Nothing disgusts me more than havin' to look at a fuckin' broad that just sucked me
off!"
Then he turned and walked out of the room and left Eva lying there on the floor, too
bitter and proud to cry, too utterly miserable to want to even go on living.


Chapter 9

For more than an hour after she left Clyde Thomas, Eva drove through the streets of
West Agate, Milwaukee and surrounding areas. She even headed southward along the
North-South Freeway toward Chicago for several miles. She dreaded to go home, was
ashamed to face her daughter after what had happened with Clyde. But when finally
she took hold of her emotions and allowed herself to think more rationally, she realized
that it was something that could not be avoided. Sooner or later, she would have to go
home and face Myra, so better to have it done and over with. There was no way that
Myra could know that her mother had been to visit Clyde, or why. Nor could she
possibly have any idea about what had happened with Duke. So Eva made a U-turn at
the next intersection and headed in the direction of West Agate and home.
The distraught dark-haired mother left the car in the driveway and entered the house
through the side door. She went immediately into the kitchen, expecting to find Myra
there, probably having dinner. But she was not there. However, the note that Eva had
left was gone, which meant Myra had been home after school. Since there were no dirty
dishes and no indication that the girl had even started dinner, Eva guessed that Myra
had decided to again eat with one of her friends.
As much as she wanted to see her daughter, Eva looked at it philosophically. Perhaps it
was just as well she didn't have to face Myra right now? By tomorrow morning, or even
later tonight, she'd probably feel better, even though she was at her wit's end, trying to
figure out what she could do about thS fire still raging in her loins, threatening to
consume her entire body. Because her visit with Clyde, instead of alleviating her
demands, had only increased them a thousandfold.
With both hands she pressed hard against her stomach and then her pelvic area, trying
to ease the maddening pain of lust that had settled there. As she left the kitchen and
started up the stairs to her bedroom, she thought of what Clyde told her about walking
the streets. But that was ridiculous. In spite of all that had happened, she still had too
much self-respect left to pick up and go to bed with just any man. Nor would she even
call on Clyde again, or above all, allow herself to find relief with a dog. Never, never,
never would she do that, again! She'd finger-fuck herself first. She'd use her fingers...
maybe the vibrator... a candle... a banana... 
She halted her thinking and her climb on the top step of the staircase and listened as
she heard Myra's voice coming from the girl's bedroom. Although Myra was not
talking. It sounded more as if she were singing... crooning... 
Eva was glad that Myra was in a happy mood. It would make their reconciliation that
much easier. She hurried toward the door when she heard Myra's voice.
"Ooooooohhhh," the agonized sound came floating from the other side of the door. Eva
turned stone cold. For there was no question in her mind that it was her daughter's
voice and she appeared to be in some kind of trouble.
Ghastly thoughts began chasing through Eva's mind. She conjured up all sorts of
images of Myra being attacked, raped, maybe seized by some serious illness. She started
to reach for the doorknob when Myra's voice came again.
"Oooooohhh, Earl darling, you feel so good," the girl gasped. "Aaahhh, stick it all the
way in... ram it!"
The blood suddenly drained from Eva's face and a blind fury raged in her brain. Earl
Holden was in there with Myra and after she warned him! He was raping her daughter!
Deflowering her baby! Again her shaking hand reached for the knob of the door, when
she heard Earl's voice.
"I don't want to hurt you, Myra," he said.
Myra again. "I don't care if you do hurt me, darling. It's such a beautiful hurt. Just do
it... do it the way you did the other night."
The other night! Eva went back on her heels, momentarily stunned. That meant this
wasn't the first time it had happened!
Eva could never get it quite clear in her mind why she didn't just burst right into the
room and stop them. Certainly it wasn't because she condoned it. No mother would.
Could it be her own guilty conscience that stopped her? Could it be knowing that she
herself had gone to see Clyde with the very same thought in mind, for him to screw
her? Or could it be something in her daughter's passion-clogged voice that expressed
her own desperate feelings, her wanting, her urgency and made her sympathize with
the girl?
Whatever the reason, instead of barging into the room, she took the knob in her sweaty
palm, turned it and eased the door open, slowly, noiselessly, to a crack, just enough so
she could see inside. What she saw brought a bright flush to her normally pale cheeks
and she could feel her pulse-beat start to accelerate.
There on the bed was Myra, sprawled out on her back, with not a stitch on, her black
hair splashed on the pillow under her head. Earl equally naked, was atop her,
sandwiched between her widespread, shapely, milky-white legs. Both of them were far
too absorbed in their illicit lovemaking, to have heard the door open, or to have the
slightest awareness that her mother was standing there in the doorway, watching them.
Even Duke, lying at the foot of the bed, where his master had ordered him to stay, was
so engrossed in the action, waiting only for an invitation to join in, that he hadn't
heard, either.
Eva stood there, transfixed, like a bird caught in the hypnotic gaze of a snake, unable to
tear her eyes away from the scene, as Earl's naked buttocks bounced up and down like a
huge inflated beach ball, between Myra's legs. Even from the distance that Eva was
from the bed, she could hear the obscene liquid suctioning sound that Earl's cock made
as it slid in and out of her daughter's well-lubricated vagina.
To add to her horror, Eva found herself unable to move, a kind of cold numbness
stealing over her legs, so that she could only stand there in the partly open doorway,
watching the lascivious performance on the bed, with a strange, unexplainable
fascination. Then as she listened to the moans and grunts and the slapping of their bare
bellies together, every time Earl came down on Myra, the girl on the bed suddenly
ceased to be her daughter.
Maybe it was because she couldn't see Myra's face, only her limbs and her black hair,
and because from the distance. Earl's Adonis-like nude body reminded her so much of
Ben or at least the way she liked to think her late husband looked Eva, in her tortured
mind, pictured herself as the girl on the bed. She and Ben together.
So clearly could she remember that first night of their honeymoon, in that little cabin
overlooking the Falls at Niagara. She was lying in bed, just as Myra was now, waiting
and watching so patiently until Ben came out of the bathroom, where he had gone to
change clothes. He was wearing a kelly-green silk bathrobe and stood at the side of the
bed and threw it off. She could see his beautiful big cock, with its moist vermilion head
peeking out almost shyly from under its tight gripping foreskin. She remembered how
he got onto the bed and kissed her breasts, kissed all over her body even between her
silken thighs until she was ready. Then he carefully fitted his big male organ to the
moist palpitating lips of her cunt and told her to let him know if he was hurting her.
Oh, it hurt all right! Hurt so badly that for a few moments she wasn't sure she could
take it. But once the stubborn tissue of her hymen gave way, the hurt disappeared,
replaced with the most exquisite sensations she had ever known, as she experienced the
first real orgasm of her young life.
Lost in the magic of that never-to-be-forgotten moment of over fifteen years ago, Eva
completely forgot where she was, having closed her eyes and her mind to the two sex
locked figures before her on the bed. Familiar electric-like tremors started high up
between her quivering legs. She clenched her thighs tightly together, hoping to stop the
wild feelings that were growing there. But instead of lessening the sensation, the
increased pressure on her swollen cunt-lips induced new sharp jolts of pleasure to find
their way up into her hot belly. Without conscious thought, her hands were at her
loins, rubbing their way downward between her legs, trying to discourage the
maddening sensation mounting there, demanding release.
Which is the precise moment when Myra screamed, "Oh, Earl! Ooooohhhhh, Earl...
I'm going to cum... Oh, push hard... harder... Ooooohhh, it's here... Oooohhh, Earl...
I'm starting to CUMMMMMMMM!"
Myra's frenzied cry, ending in a strangled gasp, brought her mother rudely back to
reality. Something seemed suddenly to snap inside the woman's head.
"Stop it goddamn you stop it!" she screamed at Earl at the top of her voice, as she burst
into the room. Maybe it was the Clyde-influence? But she began spouting forth
blasphemies and profanities that she had never uttered before in her life. "You rotten
son-of-a-bitch, what are you doing to my daughter! Get away from her, you goddamn
bastard! Leave my baby alone!"
It was too late to halt Myra's orgasm. Already she was deep in the throes, gasping,
moaning and squirming around sensuously on the bed as a volcano of ecstasy erupted
in her loins, in her spasming interior. But Earl was a different matter. Eva's wild outcry
and sudden expected intrusion had caused him perhaps the crudest thing that can
happen to a male. Coitus interruptus! He had been forced to withdraw his phallus from
Myra's vagina just before his orgasm was about to begin.
Stunned for the moment, Earl then quickly rolled off the girl and scrambled off the bed
at the far side, his bright pink penis, now slippery wet, standing straight out of the
clump of blond hair between his legs, painfully hard. It looked for all the world as if it
might start ejaculating at any second, but it did not. Fear of Myra's mother finding
them like this, had driven the sperm back into his dangling balls.
If Eva had the presence of mind to think at that moment, she might have considered it
poetic justice. Clyde had denied her an orgasm and now she had interrupted Earl's.
Meantime, at the first sound of Eva's voice, Duke had jumped up and began barking
and growling, continuing until the woman started to approach the bed.-Then he caught
a whiff of her scent and the barking stopped, the final growl dying in his furry throat.
He bounced down off the bed and moved toward Eva, whining softly and wagging his
tail so vigorously that his whole rear end shook.
Myra continued to lay on the bed, curled up on her side, waiting for her climax to
gradually diminish.
Her mother took that moment to halt beside the bed, reach over and put a hand on her
daughter's bare shoulder. "My baby... my poor little baby..."
Myra arched away from the hand as if galvanized. She turned quickly and sat up,
glaring at her mother without even a trace of remorse or shame.
"You were spying on me!" she snapped at the woman, accusingly. "You sneaked back
into the house and were spying!"
Eva, taken aback, began shaking her head in denial. "No, you're wrong, darling. I didn't
even know you were home."
"You're lying!" Myra spit at her, scornfully. "And I only hope you got yourself an
eyeful."
The sound of the loud, heated voices caused Duke to change course. He dropped his
ears and his tail and slunk away to a far corner of the bedroom.
As he had done the other night, when Myra's mother caught the two of them
downstairs on the sofa, Earl saw this as his chance to start pulling on his clothes and
moving toward the doorway, his cock still persistently and painfully hard.
Myra saw him and called out, "Where do you think you're going?"
"I... I think maybe I'd better leave," he replied, as he kept inching toward the door.
"No!" Myra's voice boomed out. "I don't "want you to go. I want you to stay right
here."
"But, my baby..." Eva tried to interject.
Myra cut her short, sharply. "I'm not your baby. I'm not even a virgin. You hear, not
even a virgin! I'm a woman, who's been fucked twice! That's two times more than
you've had it in the last few years."
Enraged, Eva drew back her hand to give Myra a .slap the way she did the night before
last. But the dog growled.
Myra laughed harshly. "I guess you didn't know that Duke's been trained to go after
people who try to hit someone else. So you'd just better keep your hands to yourself,
Mother darling. " Then all at once, the girl noticed and she almost shouted, "Whoa wait
a second! Wait just one dam second!" Her eyes swept over her mother's figure, taking
in her bare legs and lightly contained breasts. "Just what're you made up for? No bra,
no stockings, no girdle and your hair down? I don't get it?"
Momentarily flustered by her daughter's discovery, Eva took a step backwards away
from the bed, her cheeks reddening. Unsteadily she said, "It's... it's none of your
business."
"Oh, it is. You're my mother," Myra mocked. Then in a more accusing tone, "You
never in your life went out dressed that way. You'd never dream of leaving the house
without wearing a bra, or stockings, or a girdle. I want to know what gives?"
Eva swallowed awkwardly and took another couple of steps away from the bed. "I told
you it's none of your affair."
Myra's face suddenly lighted up with a wise smile. "Hey, I've got the answer. You found
out that Earl and I were here in my bedroom, so you went to your room and changed
into the costume." Almost amusedly, "Maybe I was wrong? Maybe my darling mother
isn't so sexless and dried-up, after all? In fact, you know what I think?"
Eva made no reply. She just haltered her retreat, confused and humiliated and heartsick
that her own daughter would think of talking to her this way. Yet because her own
guilt so completely dominated her thinking, she was unable to fashion any defense.
"I think you were jealous, envious," Myra went on with her accusation. "I think you
purposely left off your bra and all the other stuff, because you wanted Earl to see you
that way... hoping maybe you'd get him so excited, he'd maybe want to do you, too."
Eva finally found her tongue. "You have no right to talk to me that way!"
"But I do because it's true," Myra insisted.
"No! It's not true!" Eva shouted, a little too loud in her denial.
Myra focused her gaze on her mother's face, saw something there that even her mother
wasn't aware of. Almost gleefully, the girl began clapping her hands together and
chanting, "It is true! It is, it is! Earl what do you know my mother wants you."
"No!" Eva cried out.
"I'll bet you don't even have any panties on," Myra teased.
"I do," Eva blurted out, completely flustered now, scarcely aware of what she was
saying.
And then, right on cue, almost as if he understood what they were talking about, Duke
came forward. Detecting the familiar heat from Eva's genitalia, generated by watching
Myra and Earl engaging in coitus and further stirred up by the accusations Myra was
making, Duke poked his snout between Eva's thighs. She let out a surprised gasp but
before she could push away his head, he had raised her short skirt with his wet nose,
high enough for Myra to catch a glimpse of the bikini-style panties her mother had on.
The girl recognized them at once. "My panties! Now I know you did it to look sexy for
Earl. You do want him to make love to you."
"I don't... I don't!" Eva almost shrieked.
Myra jumped down off the bed and ran, naked and barefooted, toward the door. She
paused on the threshold to look back at her mother and declared, "You locked me in
here the other night, Mother dear. Now you're going to see how it feels."
"What... what are you doing?" Eva shouted.
"Locking you and Earl in here, alone," Myra shouted back as she called Duke and he
came running to join her in the hall. "Let's leave the two of them all by themselves,"
she said to the dog.
Whether the idea appealed to Earl and he was making a grandstand play, just to make
it look good, he and Eva made a mad dash for the door at the same time. But before
they could reach there, Myra, with a taunting laugh, slammed the door shut and turned
the key in the lock from outside.
Earl turned to face Eva a few feet away from him. He had succeeded in getting on his
shorts, but that was all. The rest of his clothes he was holding in his hands. With his
back to the door and his rigid cock showing no signs of diminishing in size, he studied
the older woman.
Thirty-four or not, he had to admit, she was still a voluptuous piece of ass. He had
screwed a couple of older women during his young life and he had enjoyed it,
immensely, each time. Once it happened with a whore, who charged him five dollars.
The other occasion was with his maternal aunt. She was built along the lines of Myra's
mother and had been about the same age at the time. He was only seventeen, when his
aunt took him to bed with her and really gave him a time. She had a big juicy cunt that
she taught him to lick and then let him cum in it twice. Then for "dessert", she sucked
him off.
She moved to the West Coast a few days later and Earl never saw her again. But he
hoped that one day his travels might take him out there, for another crack at her. Or at
least, he wished he'd find, somebody close enough to her looks and age to take her
place. Myra's mother would fit the bill very nicely. But he knew he would have to tread
very carefully.
He let several moments go by, until they both had a chance to get used to the idea of
being alone. Then he asked, hesitantly, "What... er what Myra said, isn't true, is it, Mrs.
Burr? I mean you didn't really dress like that just for me, did you?"
"Of course not," Eva discharged with the disdain that she felt the questions deserved.
"I didn't think so," was his response. Then after a brief pause, "But you sure do look
awfully attractive."
Eva took a deep breath. She wasn't sure it was to quiet her emotions, or try to curb her
anger at the audacity of her daughter, locking her in a room, like this, with a half-naked
young man, who was almost young enough to be her son.
Come to think of it if she had a son, he just might look like Earl. Because studying him
up close like this, he was so very similar to Ben. Same football shoulders, slim waist and
bulging biceps, about the same height and weight. He even had blond hair, the way her
late husband did.
Eva quickly caught herself. She mustn't let herself think about that resemblance too
much, not with the two of them alone together here in this locked room and with him
wearing nothing except a pair of boxer shorts. She wished, too, that the swelling in his
pelvic area would go down. Feeling the way she did, it wasn't very restful for her to
have to keep looking at his rock-hard cock.
Nor did Earl make the situation any less tense when he told her, "You never knew it,
Mrs. Burr, but I watched you lots of times from my window when you were working in
your garden. Sometimes when you'd bend over, I could see what beautiful legs you
have and I kept betting that the rest of you would be just as terrific. I well I kept hoping
that just once, I could see you with all your clothes off."
Eva tried to quiet the fluttering in her stomach, steady her jumpy nerves, as she said,
reprovingly, "I... I won't believe you ever hoped such a thing."
"But I did," Earl insisted as he tossed his clothes into a nearby chair and began to move
toward her, away from the door. It was strange. But he was no longer afraid of her, the
way he had been the other night, or just a little while ago when she barged into the
room, cursing him. In spite of Eva's denials, his male ego perhaps made him more
prone to believe what Myra said, that her mother had dressed so scantily expressly for
him. He asked, "Why shouldn't I hope for such a thing. I kept telling Myra over and
over that I bet that under those drab clothes you wear, you are a very beautiful woman.
You'd have to be, to have a daughter like Myra." He eyed her breasts, her legs and the
rest of her luscious anatomy. "Seeing you now, dressed this way, proves I was right."
Eva kept retreating, moving away from him. Even though she was flattered by the nice
things he was telling her, she was alarmingly aware of his blond good looks, his Mr.
America physique and his unmistakable animal magnetism, even to an older woman.
"You mustn't say things like that to me, Earl," she scolded weakly, although she was
really reprimanding herself for allowing herself to feel the way she did, rather than
blaming him.
"But they're true," he persisted as he kept following after her, closing in on her, with
growing confidence. Nothing in the world can encourage a man more than a good
chase and to see a woman show fear the kind of fear that she was showing: fear of
herself rather than of him. This bolstered confidence caused him to make a bold
remark. "Myra says you haven't had a man in a few years, ever since Mr. Bun-died."
Eva could feel her own self-confidence starting to weaken. But she took a fresh grip on
herself and said, "Myra doesn't know everything and I don't think you ought to talk to
me about things like that. You're... you're being very rude."
Earl had a smile that could charm the devil's mistress and he used it on Eva now to
accompany his answer. "I'm not trying to be rude, or suggestive, or fresh in any way.
Honestly I'm not," he apologized. "It's just that I know that when a woman, who's still
as young and beautiful as you are, doesn't have some sort of sexual relief in all that
time, it isn't good for her. And well, if as you say, Myra might have been wrong, and
you have had it well it wouldn't hurt to have it again now."
Eva continued to back away from him as he drew nearer and nearer to her with each
step. She hadn't realized she was so close to the bed until the back of her legs came in
contact with it and she lost her balance and fell backward across it. Earl was on the bed
with her, at once, hovering over her, looking down at her, starting to move his face
closer to hers.
She pushed up at him with both hands. "No... no..."
"I won't hurt you," he whispered. "I just want to make love to you."
"No!" Eva kept struggling, trying to escape his hands that were flattened out on the bed
at each side of her. Although, in her heart, she knew that she wasn't trying to get away
nearly as hard as she might have, that the thought of him taking her, was not nearly as
appalling as she was making out.
More and more, she became aware of his youthful, masculine fragrance, the sensual
fullness of his lips, the power of his muscled body. She trembled, seeing his face
drawing closer and closer. She started to turn her head, but then at the last instant
changed her mind and let him kiss her. A warm kiss that forced apart her lips and
allowed him to explore her warm sweet mouth with his tongue. After a moment, she
tried to push up at him again but her efforts were feeble, the kiss sending a new
warmth into her limbs. The kiss lasted a long time, making her loins moist with a slow
and suffusing pleasure.
She was breathing heavily when finally he took his mouth away. "Please... please, Earl...
let me get up."
"Why?"
Because I want you to," she said. But it wasn't true. He had ignited her body. Her cunt
was wet and open, aching for him. But at the same time, she couldn't forget how young
he was... that he was the boy next door, the "little boy" that she had watched grow from
a child into young manhood... that he also was Myra's boyfriend. It just wasn't right for
a mother to let her daughter's boyfriend make love to her. Then, too, there was Myra
herself. She just couldn't let Myra know that she had been right, not about dressing up
for him, but about wanting him, fiercely.
But Earl was mixing her up all over again, kissing her, running a hand over her silken
black hair and down to her shoulder. She felt him fumbling with the long zipper at the
back of her dress. She made a pretense at pushing his hand away. But he managed to
get it open, the worked the dress down her arms and her torso, until her tingling
breasts sprang free. Again she struggled against him, but he handled her as if she were
a child, instead of a woman almost twice his age.
"Please, Earl, let me go," she kept begging him.
"Relax," he murmured muffledly as he dropped his head to her billowy breasts to kiss
and lick their smooth creamy surface. Then he began sucking the nipples, making her
shiver and pant, her body betraying her.
Eva groaned, no longer able to sustain her squirming struggle as he continued to nurse
at her breasts, teasing and seducing her senses with his masterful tongue. She did not
feel his hand at her thighs until it was too late to clench them together protectively. It
lifted her when his fingertips made their first delicate caress on her borrowed panties.
She writhed and struggled but once he began stroking her down there, all resistance
ended.
"You heat up fast," he murmured. "But I mean really fast."
She made no further effort to stop him as she felt his hand slide beneath her panties.
Instead she parted her thighs and began moving with the manipulations of his fingers
as they rubbed over her clitoris, her labia and probed the depths of her flooded cunt,
itself. She had to let him think he had conquered her, that she really didn't want it, but
that he had battered down her resistance. It would satisfy his ego and put her own
conscience at rest to know that she had tried if only for a little while.
She felt him working her panties down her legs and off over her feet. She didn't bother
to kick off her heels as she wiggled more to the center of the bed ot make room for
him.
The dark-haired mother watched Earl peel off his shorts, and she got her first really
close look at his cock. It shocked her a little to see how massive it was for such a young
man. What thrilled her mostly, was that it had a tight foreskin just like Ben's.
With the skirt of her dress pulled up above her hips and the top yanked down to
expose her breasts it left but a narrow band of wrinkled material covering her. Since
Earl made no attempt to remove it, she left it on. Some men liked a little something on
their women; maybe Earl was one of them.
She kept her eyes on Earl's throbbing cock as he positioned himself on his knees
between her legs. It always made her self-conscious to have anyone look at her naked
pussy, especially when it was wet and open. Now was no exception... but Earl was
curious and not to be hurried. The blond-haired youth had himself a good look,
likening it to his favorite aunt's cunt, which was another big score for Eva.
"You you promise you won't tell Myra?" she asked with a final twinge of guilt.
"I promise," he assured her.
Eva closed her eyes and with her forearm covering her face, she awaited the first brush
of his burgeoning cock-head over her eagerly trembling cunt-lips. Instead she got one of
the biggest thrills of her life, when instead of his cock, she felt his open lips against her
cuntal dampness, his tongue slithering into her pulsing, open, wet flesh. A groan
echoed from Eva's naked belly at the first shivering contact of his tongue against her
excited pussy-flesh. She threw back her head and every nerve and muscle in her body
tightened with each repeated slash of his tongue through her furrow.
Eyes still closed, Eva drifted off into an uncharted world of sexual bliss. She kept
moaning softly, soulfully, in a kind of chant as his tongue and his lips made love to the
inner pink softness of her widely parted velvety cunt-lips.
Moving his head backward and upward, Earl worked his tongue back and forth through
the moist chasm that was her vagina's parting the dense black pubic hair as he licked a
wide path upward to the quivering pearl of her generous-sized cUt. As excited as she
was, she couldn't restrain the gasping cry that escaped her lungs, as the tip of his
tongue swept over the pearl and sent an explosion of deliriously erotic sensations
ricocheting through her entire body.
"Ooooohhhhhh... Aaaaahhhhh... Mmmmmmmmmmmmm..."
Eva ground her exposed cuntal plain up lasciviously against his face, that was almost
hidden between her smooth white thighs. His response was to gnaw away at her
womanly treasure, gulping down her cuntal juices, greedily, as his tongue swirled from
side to side between the turgid lips of her pussy, lingering now and then to saw
maddeningly on the "little man" who guarded the entrance to her precious femininity.
Totally and shamelessly, Eva gave into her primitive lust. No longer did it matter that
he was years younger than she... that he was the boy next door... that he was her
daughter's boyfriend. Right now nothing in the whole world mattered... nothing...
except the wild libidinous pleasures he was bringing her with his lips and tongue...
turning her body into a throbbing, broiling cunt from head to toe.
Sensing her wildly excited passion, Earl pursed his lips and fastened them to her
erotically aroused clit, siphoned it into his mouth and began sucking furiously on it,
threatening to rip it out by the roots. Unmindful of his aching-jaws, eager only to bring
her passion-induced gyrations to an absolute crest, he grazed the hypersensitive nerve
core of her entire womanhood with the tip of his tongue while he sucked. That did it!
With a soul-curdling cry of ecstatic madness, Eva began swishing her head from side to
side on the pillow, screaming her orgasm to completion!
Earl's maternal aunt had indeed been a most excellent teacher.
He waited only until the first stage of her orgasm began to abate, then he started to
move up on her, to fuck her. But she quickly pushed him aside and rolled him over on
his back.
"Now you relax," she told him, her eyes insane with carnality, her body at white heat,
all sense of right and wrong gone from her mind. The next moment, she was astride
him, a knee gripped against each of his hips, the pink wound of her dripping cunt
poised directly over his wildly-throbbing cock.
He offered no protest. He was delighted. It was far more than he could ever have hoped
for, for her to fuck him, do all the work, while he just lay there and enjoyed it to the
fullest.
Eva took only a moment to whip her dress off over her head. Then slowly, she lowered
herself to him, fitting her slippery wet, madly aching cunt-lips to the fiery tip of his now
completely unsheathed glans. Gently, very gently, she pressed down against him, as in a
transport of sex, she felt his molten, throbbing spear slide between the scalding,
glutinous walls of her ever-expanding cunt.
Up and down, up and down, she snapped her hips repeatedly on his rampant cock, her
eager vagina hungrily devouring inch after inch of the immense shaft, until her soft
firm buttocks finally smacked down against his sperm-filled testicles. Then with a wild
cry of joy, she hurled herself forward against him, crushing her breasts to his chest,
letting him soak in her effusion of juices.
It was at that exact moment that she felt something cold and rubbery skittering along
the crease of her buttocks, sniffing curiously at her widely stretched anus. She turned
her head and looked up over her shoulder, experiencing a moment of horror, when she
saw the huge, furry form of Duke behind her on the bed!
It was a shattering moment of mingled, jarring emotions. Earl aching to cum... Eva,
herself, on the brink of climaxing... Myra, who had finally decided to unlock the door
and return to her bedroom, flabbergasted in spite of all the things she'd said to actually
find her mother, stark naked, atop Earl, giving him the fuck of his life. Even Duke had
become involved, when finished with his investigation of Eva's elevated, rounded ass
cheeks, he quite unceremoniously mounted her.
With a shudder, Eva felt the incited animal settle his strong forelegs firmly around her
waist and trail his tapering bright-red dog-prick between her widespread thighs. Finding
her cuntal hole plugged to capacity with his master's cock, there was no place for the
dog's penis to go but into her defenseless anus.
Eva screamed as she felt the pointed tip of Duke's cock catch at the tight, sensitive
puckered opening of her rear orifice, worming just a fraction of an inch inside. She
caught her breath just as Duke, sensing his goal, rammed forward, inching deeper and
deeper into her stubborn rectal passage.
"Take him away!" Eva shrilled frantically to Myra, who had moved closer to the bed
where her mother had been able to see her. "He's killing me! Take him away!"
Myra chuckled with ironic amusement. "Oh no, Mother. I wouldn't miss this for the
world. This is super-precious. That's a real good dog, Duke!"
Like a white-hot stake being driven into her, Eva could only lie there helplessly atop
Earl, as the dog, encouraged by Myra's words, thrust still deeper into the rubber-like
depths of the woman's rectum.
"Ooooohhhhhhh... uuugggghhhhh," Eva gasped sickeningly as she lurched forward,
trying to escape the pain in her anus, but succeeding only in driving Earl's cock deeper
into the mouth of her womb. She jerked her buttocks from side to side in an attempt to
dislodge the dog's probing cock from her anus. But it was no use... he was fastened to
her rear-end as if for all eternity, stretching her anal sphincter just enough for his
elongated cock to slide through. There was nothing left for Eva to do but let the man
and the dog, between whom she was sandwiched, have their way with her, fucking up
into her twin-passages to their heart's content.
She could hear the lustful grunts of Earl beneath her and the pleasurable whining of the
dog above, as they humped her now with pounding regularity. Only the fact that Eva
had been so sexually aroused, on the verge of climaxing when Myra and the dog came
into the room, made it possible for her to withstand the double pummeling she was
taking, front and back. And then to her utter astonishment, as it had been when Ben
took her cherry long ago, the blinding pain of the unnatural presence of Duke's dog
cock in her excruciatingly tight rectal passageway finally began to subside and she could
feel the pain being gradually replaced by mounting pleasure. At the same time, she
couldn't help being aware of the filthy, degenerative, erotic thrill of being screwed 
front and back by a young man almost half her age and a dog in heat.
After a few more moments of her strange entrapment, Eva let herself go completely.
She thrilled now to the great throbbing of the dog-cock pushing in and out of her
tingling rectum, while she subconsciously slid up and down the length of Earl's well
lubricated male organ in her cunt, joining the wild tempo of the two massive shafts
separated only by a thin wall of membranes. Little moans and mewls of delight had
replaced Eva's yelps of pain as she felt the slap of Duke's heavy black balls against
sensitive flesh between her vulva and anus each time he came down at her. All the
while, the two invading male organs continued to grow and swell as they kept
pounding away relentlessly inside her stretched wet holes.
Still standing at the side of the bed, Myra watched the lewd proceedings on the bed
with diabolical interest and satisfaction. She was fascinatingly absorbed in the salacious
sight of the two rigid lengths of male flesh one human and bright pink, the other
animal and glisteningly red as they pinned her now wildly squirming and degenerately
moaning mother between them. Only Myra didn't see the woman on the bed as her
mother, at this moment. She saw her, rather, as a part of a perverted tableau being
performed before her on the bed.
With an almost maniacal expression, the girl watched Earl's heavy-veined cock being
swallowed up between the well-rounded, white thighs of the woman above him, only to
reappear again, glistening wet with their combined sexual juices. Even more entrancing
was the sight of Duke's brilliantly scarlet canine-penis hammering into the woman's
quivering anus, pulling tiny flanges of rubbery pink flesh along with it each time it
came out and then driving it wetly back into the astringent hole as the dog's powerful
rump bucked forward.
Suddenly Myra felt left out of it. She wanted to become a part of the activity, to join the
writhing tangle of bodies on the bed to share in their depravities. Without further
thought, she climbed onto the bed and with a feat of gymnastic prowess, she straddled
her mother's back and facing Duke, spread her shapely legs wide apart. Then leaning
backwards, she thrust her cunt at the humping dog. When he seemed confused, not
quite understanding what the girl wanted him to do, Myra reached down and parted
her pink, girlish pussy lips with her fingertips and moved to within licking distance of
the animal's long fat tongue.
"Lick, Duke," she bade him. "Lick Myra's cunt, like you did before. Lick me, darling,
make me cum... please, lover."
The big German shepherd was no longer confused. Obediently, he pushed his long
snout forward and began lapping voraciously at the fur-trimmed gushing cunt before
him. Myra threw her head back in wild abandon, her long black hair trailing down
behind her, as she completed the four-part orgy of uninhibited, joyful, all-out sex there
on the bed.
Eva, lost in her own lust, was scarcely aware of the added weight of her daughter
straddling her back, no longer fully cognizant of the fact that it was even her daughter.
Everything was so thoroughly and completely mixed up in her mind that she lost all
track of time, place, even with whom she was engaging in this wild debauchery. Ail she
knew was that this was without question the unqualified sexual attainment of her entire
thirty-four years. Even if it happened again, she was sure she could never hope to reach
the sublime heights to which this incredible union of man and dog was taking her.
She wasn't sure just how much more of this stimulation her pleasure-imbued body
could take as she felt herself building to a mighty crescendo. The cock in her front hole
and the one in her rear were pumping faster now, much faster, both ready to fulminate.
In spite of the many pleasant skimming-type climaxes she'd enjoyed along the way, Eva
knew that when the two of them came, her own orgasm would be devastating.
She became gradually aware of what was happening to the girl above her, still
straddling her back. Even through she couldn't see her, Eva could tell by the way the
girl was writhing and moaning and by the occasional rough swipe of Duke's rough
tongue along her spine, that he was licking Myra off. Then all at once, Myra began
yelling and bucking and jerking, and Eva knew her daughter was cumming! The next
moment she could feel the girl's vaginal secretions gushing from her spasming cunt to
trickle down over her back, and the lust-driven daughter cried out, "Ohhhh, God! I'mm
ccuummmiinngg! Aaaarrrrggghhh!"
The lust-scented fluid of Myra's orgasm, was all that was needed for the seething sperm
in the dog's testicles to erupt. With a final whine and a cruel thrust forward, he shot his
boiling dog-cum into Eva's garroting rectal tunnel. The older woman cried out like a
tortured banshee in unleashed passion as she felt the first blast of animal cum spurting
deep up in her rectum.
"Ooooooh, God... Oooohhhhhh, my God!" She pressed down hard on Earl's cock,
milking him with the ring of tight inner muscles deep up inside her pussy.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh... now... now... Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh... I'm CCCUUUUMMMING!"
Her body began shaking convulsively as her orgasm took hold and burst in the depths
of her belly, throbbing almost in rhythm to the pulsing jets of dog-sperm that Duke
kept barreling into the depths of her alimentary canal. Then she heard Earl let out a
gasp beneath her, moaning obscenities that she never heard even Clyde utter, wanting
to release his pent-up tensions along with his sperm, as Eva sensing his nearness,
plummeted her suctioning cunt down on his hardness, holding his masculine length in
its entirety, inside her strangling vaginal strait. Then as she ground her naked genitals
lewdly against him in furious circles, she felt his cock begin its uncontrollable jerking
and then blast thick, torrid jets of cum far up into her still spasming, absorbing interior.
Holding both male shafts inside her with her tightly flexed abdominal muscles, Eva
sucked and milked each one of them, sordidly, until she felt them lose their size and
slip from her inundated cunt and her sperm-filled anus. Then in complete exhaustion,
she collapsed against Earl's strong bare chest, relieved and contented in a way she had
not known in all the years since Ben died.
Myra, licked to satisfaction, too, by the dog, had slid off her mother's secretion-smeared
back, to lie now on the bed beside her, the dog's big silver-gray head resting on her
naked breasts.
After awhile, Eva turned her head slightly to look at her daughter. Myra smiled faintly
and said, "I'm so glad we finally understand each other, Mother. So glad I'm your
daughter."
Eva was glad, too. Glad that at last, they had found a common interest. One that she
was sure would forge a never-to-be-broken bond between them.


Epilogue

That, of course, didn't end things that memorable evening in Myra's bedroom. To Eva's
delight, Earl Holden proved himself to be Ben's "equal" in more than mere physical
appearance. Before the foursome parted company that night, he showed himself to be a
young man of remarkable endurance, capable of erectile recovery at anywhere from five
to thirty minutes after ejaculation. Of course, as the night wore on, the intervals grew
somewhat longer. But Myra and her mother had no complaints, especially with Duke
there to take up the slack. A well-known movie sex symbol once said that a young prize
fighter once made it with her more than twenty times in one night. Whether or not
Earl topped, or even tied, that record, no one kept count. But it is safe to say he was
right up there someplace.
Naturally that didn't end it, either. With the summer vacation period ahead and little to
do until the fall term began, Eva, Myra, Earl and Duke spent many happy hours
together. As Myra said, she was delighted to learn how wrong she had been about her
mother, that she was far from being sexless, dried up and passé, and as Eva figured, the
bond between them grew stronger each day. In fact, the relationship between the two
became so close-knit that Myra gladly shared everything she had with her mother
including Earl and his dog Duke.
As for Eva the girl, the boy and the dog had taught her an invaluable lesson, that no
matter how beautiful yesterday might appear when looking back at it over one's
shoulder, it can be tragic to try and relive it. All those wasted years that Eva had
abstained from sex could never be recaptured even though she tried to make up for
them every time she got into bed with Earl and Duke.
Her style of dress changed drastically too. With the start of the fall term, she created
quite a furor among the students, as well as the members of the faculty especially the
male members. In fact, there was serious talk about changing her over from teaching
dead languages to heading the class in sex education.
Clyde Thomas? He called repeatedly, even waited for her after school, begging her to let
him make it up to her for his abominable behavior during their last meeting. He
promised never to act that way again. He even went so far as to tell Eva that he might
break his long-standing rule and "go down to lunch" on her, if only she'd go out with
him. But she never did.
Although there came a time during the early part of September when she was afraid she
might have to turn to him for sexual relief. That was when Earl told Myra and her that
he was leaving for college in the East. With both his parents working and away from
home most of the time and himself unable to take Duke with him, he said it looked as
if he might have to put Duke into a kennel.
"A kennel, nothing!" Myra insisted vehemently. "Duke can stay right here with mother
and me. We'll take good care of him, won't we, Mother darling?"
Eva smiled and said nothing, because she knew that this was one time daughter was
right. They took very good care of Duke during Earl's long absence and Duke took
very, very good care of both of them.


THE END
