The Little-Boy Lover
by Trudy Proudfoot


FOREWORD 

The Little-Boy Lover is Trudy Proudfoot's second novel for Surrey House, 
Inc. Her first book was for Rated X (RX-238) and she called it, They All Ate 
Candy. It was all about home demonstrations and some really special 
merchandise that came out during pots-and-pans parties. If you missed They 
All Ate Candy, copies are still available using the coupon in the back of 
this book. 

The fact that Trudy Proudfoot is a real Indian could hardly be detected in 
her writings. Yet she is, an American Indian, a resident of the Barona 
Reservation, located a commutable distance from the metropolitan San Diego 
area. From her proud heritage, the depth of feelings she ascribes to her 
characters, especially the widow of, is easily understandable. 

That the precocious little boy literally worms his way into her affections 
is easily understandable, and Meg Culbertson had been without a man for far 
too long, before the horny kid came on the scene, pants down and dangles 
waving. 

It was also understandable that Meg wanted to escape from the overpowering 
mental tortures she put herself through, but if she had of known about die 
camp of slum boys, immediately next to her mountain cabin, there is no doubt 
she would not have gone there to hide. 

The little boys, running around the woodland camp in the nude, tormented her 
anew ... and when they arranged the all-afternoon gang-bang, just for her, 
it was almost more than Meg could stand. 

Fortunately her doctor was there to take care of her, in more ways than one. 
And Meg was a woman who could take an awful lot of masculine attention, 
regardless of age and regardless of size. 

Fresh, sparkling new titles in the Surrey Collectors' Series reach your 
favorite news dealer or adult book store at the same time every month. We 
will be there waiting for you, along with the Surrey Collectors' Series 
companions, the Rated X books and the HIS 69 gay titles. Serious collectors 
of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private 
book shelves for definite re-reading and ready reference. 

We want to make this Collectors' Series the perfect reflection of your 
reading and sexual desires and invite your comments at all times, so we can 
better serve you. We urge you to write us with exact details of what kind of 
books you would like to read, and any other sexual matters you are concerned 
about, IN ABSOLUTE STRICT CONFIDENCE. Only in this manner can we be sure we 
are giving you precisely what you desire. No matter is too complex for you 
to approach us with, and nothing is too difficult for us to attempt ... but 
only if you want it ... and only if you take the time to write us with your 
specific requirements. 

Only you can do it. We here at Surrey House, Inc. only exist to serve you in 
these matters of great concern. 

All especially significant letters will be answered directly, and all story 
suggestions will be turned over to our staff of writers all over the world. 

-THE PUBLISHERS 

 CHAPTER ONE 

She caught them in the garage and she was shocked! 

It happened shortly after dark on a Sunday. When Meg turned off the shower, 
she heard a faint noise. As she toweled herself dry and slipped into her 
bathrobe, she heard it again and it frightened her. She would never have 
dreamed of investigating it herself if Paul were still alive, but then she'd 
had to do a lot of things she didn't like to do since Paul died. 

All sorts of fears raced through her brain as she made her way through the 
darkened house. At worst, it could be a man with a gun ... at least, perhaps 
only a cat, accidentally shut in when she parked her car. When she opened 
the door and found two boys being nasty with each other, she was so shocked 
that she just stood there for a moment with her mouth open. 

The smaller child was squirming, his mouth covered by the older boy's hand. 
He was obviously being taken against his will. 

Can you rape a boy? she asked herself. Perhaps attack would be a better 
word. Even as the thought raced through her brain, she knew it was no time 
to be concerned with something so frivolous as semantics. 

Both boys had their pants down around their knees and the bigger boy ... he 
must have been about twelve ... was working his hard little penis in and out 
of the smaller boy's behind. Furious, Meg snapped on the kitchen light and 
opened the door wide. The light flooded over them. 

The older boy's mouth dropped open and his eyes grew immense, but he never 
stopped his back and forth rhythm against the smaller boy. If anything, the 
foul child speeded his action instead. 

"Stop that!" Meg commanded. "Stop it this instant! Oh, my God! That poor 
baby!" 

She rushed down the stairs, determined to separate them. Seeing her coming 
at them, the older boy hesitated just an instant. It was enough! The 
terrified child beneath him jerked free, yanked up his pants in one furious 
motion, and darted out the side door. 

"My brother'll frig your ass with a gun butt!" the child screeched as he 
ran. 

The older boy just stood there, too petrified to move. His pants were down 
around his knees and his shiny, brown-streaked cock stood rigidly erect. It 
was very large for a twelve-year-old. The boy attached to it was scrawny and 
he was shaking like a leaf. 

"Get your pants up! Shame on you!" Meg scolded. She could hardly look him in 
the eye, so disgusted was she with the vile thing he'd been doing. 

He didn't budge. 

"What's the matter with you?" she demanded, then her expression quickly 
changed. "Good heavens. Are you in shock?" 

His little body was shivering all over. "Help me," he whimpered. 

"You are! Oh, dear. Here, I'll pull your pants up for you. I didn't mean to 
frighten ... but you shouldn't be doing such things ... especially in my 
garage. I swear, children behave worse every year. I suppose you'll be 
taking drugs next ... or ... well, whatever." 

As she reached for his pants, she came dangerously close to his feverish 
prod. She could almost feel the heat shimmering off of it as it shivered 
there in the air. He was so big. Good heavens! Paul hadn't been much bigger, 
and the boy was uncircumcised, too, just like Paul. She wondered what he 
would look like if she skinned his wrapper back. 

"No," he whined as she began pulling up his pants. 

"What? What do you mean?" 

Reaching down, he curled two fingers around his shitty pole and slowly 
skinned it back. Meg's mouth dropped as she gaped at his tender, succulent 
flesh. It was wet and shiny and it was somehow the most vulnerable, 
magnetically erotic flesh Meg had ever seen in her life. 

"I'm awful close," the boy whimpered. "Please, lady, help me cum." 

"Why-I-I couldn't!" she spluttered, but her mind was already filling with a 
million little lewd ideas. Her crotch burned and she was frozen with 
indecision. 

"Please," he coaxed. 

"No," came a prompt, whispered reply that held not the slightest ounce of 
conviction. 

She couldn't breathe as she stared hotly into his little-boy groin. Why, he 
was still such a baby that he had only a few, straggly black hairs. The rest 
of his crotch was bald! 

Don't! This is impossible! Unthinkable! she warned herself sternly, but she 
couldn't make herself move away. Paralyzed, she squatted there, unable to do 
anything but gape at the turgid, tender flesh. Twisting his ass around, the 
boy deliberately pointed it at her and arched out his delectable flesh to 
her. 

"Come on," he begged, encouraged to a sudden boldness by her lack of 
retreat. "You want to, don't you?" 

She let it come. She quit breathing altogether but she didn't move away. The 
hot little poker came closer and closer and until she could smell it right 
beneath her nose, yet the only part of Meg that moved was her brain. That 
part of her was racing feverishly. 

This is-insane! Get up! Send this horrid child away! You're not that kind of 
a woman, for God's sake. 

Who would know? This little monster wouldn't tell, not when he would sneak 
into a stranger's garage and force his attentions on a younger boy. It's not 
as though you were corrupting anybody. He's obviously no good. Let him help! 
You need it far worse than he does! 

I need this so desperately. It's been almost a year since Paul died. I 
haven't had anything but my own finger since ... oh God, it's coming! I 
can't move and it's coming right at me! God, help me if I don't want it! If 
he stopped now, I think I'd die! 

She could hear her own breathing. It was ragged and heavy, increasing with 
every moment as her excitement and anticipation mounted. And the boy kept 
pushing it closer until it was no more than a quarter-inch away from her 
quivering lips. 

Meg's mouth was open and dry from the labored breathing. Then his flesh 
brushed against her upper lip and her saliva suddenly ... instantly began to 
gush. 

"Uhhhnnngh," she whimpered. It was the only objection she tried to make. 

The hot, moist cockhead grazed around the edge of her lip until it came to 
rest against her lower lip. 

"Please," he begged. "Suck me a little. It wouldn't hurt to suck it just a 
little." 

It wouldn't hurt! My God! 

She could taste his jism as it oozed out of his love-eye. He made a pass 
through her mouth and she felt his sweet little tasty dingus come to lay for 
a moment against her tongue. When it moved on, her tongue followed, unable 
to let that precious flesh go. She reached up then and took it with her 
hand, holding it so she could press her kisses up and down its soiled, silky 
length. 

"Oh, suck me, mama!" the boy moaned. 

Meg's cunt was on fire, but she wasn't ready to finish him off. She explored 
instead, licking at his bare groin, slobbering her kisses even onto his 
inner thighs. Such small, spindly legs ... child's legs ... a child's nuts, 
too. Only his cock was near man-sized ... or was it? Maybe Paul had been 
small. 

As her own lubricating juices began to boil, the flow running down her inner 
leg, she nibbled at the hard base of his sex muscle, carefully cleaning it 
with her tongue. She was lost in a sensual, erotic dream. Her tongue came 
out to love it ... to lick it ... to lave it. Oh, Paul ... Paul ... how can 
I go on without you? 

"Do it, cunt!" the child hissed. "Suck it! Suck it!" 

Cunt? Was he calling her cunt? So? Let him suffer. She would not be rushed. 
Moving down rather than up, she began sucking the naked, tender flesh of his 
balls. Easily, she sucked one and then both of them in. Never had she tasted 
anything so tender and succulent as this! 

"Damn you!" he moaned. "Bitch! Oh, please suck my cock. I'm going to fuck 
off before you even touch it! " 

He was pulling at her hair, in a frenzy to get what he wanted, but she was 
so lost in her own erotic fantasy that she didn't feel a thing. 

"Sonofabitch! Oh, DAMN! Please, lady! You're driving me nuts!" 

He started to grab for his own prick, but she pushed his hand away. Letting 
her mouth relax, she let his nuts go. They were running with her saliva. Her 
open mouth trailed up to where his root emerged and she wetted it, lapping 
at it hungrily. 

"Suck it!" he begged, "... suck it into your mouth. Suck my cock! Damn it! 
Suck it all!" 

She didn't want it to blow. She wanted to love it and lick it forever. 
Still, she couldn't let him continue to suffer, and her own fever was now 
intense. Hurriedly, she nibbled up his stalk. Then her lips opened and she 
took him into her mouth. 

"Ohhhh! Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhhh!" he moaned. 

For a moment, she wallowed him around in her mouth, but soon she was sucking 
him greedily. 

Feeling his prick slip deep into her smoldering cavern, she shivered with 
the overwhelming excitement of having finally done the thing they both 
wanted from the beginning. The need was compulsive now, for each. She felt 
his hands pushing on the back of her head as he began jerking his rock-hard 
cock in and out of her siphoning lips. 

"Suck that cock, mama ... suck it good ... take it all. Oh, damn that feels 
so good!" 

Meg responded eagerly. Pursing her lips around the stem, she twirled it with 
her tongue, snaking and slurping with abandon. She gripped his tight little 
ass, pulling his crotch in against her face just as eagerly as he was 
pulling her head into him. His hands were locked around her head now, just 
above her neck, and he was pulling her in for all he was worth. His legs 
jack-knifed out so precariously that only luck kept him from losing his 
balance and falling. 

"Suck it, mama! Oh, mama-bitch, suck it good!" he chanted, and the song went 
on and on in a never-ending stream of obscenities. 

With a jerk of his hips, he jabbed in his last. The movement forced his 
shaft down into her throat, and though it was small enough that it didn't 
hurt her any, she could feel it begin to throb. Because it was shoved so far 
into her, she couldn't taste the thick cream he was shooting into her. She 
could only feel it. She swallowed it greedily, feeling its subtle warmth 
slip down into her throat ... deeper, down toward her stomach ... and she 
ached. Oh, God, how she ached. Her cunt burned with a fire like nothing she 
had ever felt before in her fife. 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she released him. She hadn't made it. After 
throwing all decency and honor out the window because of her terrible need, 
she still was not fulfilled. 

"You still horny, lady?" he asked. 

She sat on her haunches, slumped there before him and she could do nothing 
but shake. He laughed. 

"I ain't never screwed no dame before," he said, "but if you'll take me to 
your bedroom, I'll give it a try." 

She shook her head, too sick with shame to put up any front. 

"By the time you could help me, I'll have taken care of it myself," she 
said. "Just get out of here." 

"I can be up in three minutes if you suck it a little more," he promised. 

She didn't say anything for a minute, but the words sunk in. Then, slowly, 
she looked up at him. 

"You could?" 

"Sure. I'm just a kid, remember? I can bounce back quick, like a jack 
rabbit. Come on." 

"This is terrible. I've never done this sort of thing before. If it wasn't 
for...." 

"Aw, cut the shit. You want to screw or not?" he demanded. 

He couldn't be from anywhere around here, she thought frantically. Boys in 
this neighborhood could never talk like that. So? If he's from the other 
side of town ... if he's just over here for the one night ... who would 
know? 

She was to remember this ridiculous line of reasoning the next day and 
shudder over it. Still, after getting down on her knees and sucking a 
twelve-year-old boy's cock, she found it necessary to go all the way through 
the process of rationalizing it all away again before she could take him to 
bed. 

"I've got to do something," she admitted finally, and her teeth were 
beginning to chatter. 

With a grin, he hoisted his pants so he could walk and then strolled on 
through the kitchen door. 

"Where's your bedroom, lady?" he asked. "Hey, these are some diggings. If 
you can cook as well as you can suck, I'll drop by every day." 

"No!" she cried, genuinely alarmed. "This sort of thing must never happen 
again." 

Her protests continued, and all the while she was following him through the 
house. He found the bedroom more by a process of illimination than by any 
direction. At the door, he dropped his pants and began unbuttoning his 
shirt. 

"Wow! This is right on ... sure beats buggering those squirming, smelly 
assholes," he said. "Come on. You can start blowing me up right now." 

He threw himself onto the bed, legs and arms akimbo. He looked so young and 
thin-limbed, Meg couldn't believe it was the same boy with the aching big 
prick jutting out from between his legs. With his pecker limp and soft, it 
wasn't a hair over two inches long, and no bigger around than her own thumb. 
It was small and insignificant ... and to Meg, it was terribly ... terribly 
exciting. One look and she dropped down beside him and began to suck on it. 

"Aren't you going to take your clothes off, lady?" he asked. "I want to see 
your pussy and tits and stuff." 

She had to satisfy herself first. Sucking in his soft, spongy peter, she 
wallowed it around in her mouth, purring at the wondrous feel. Before it 
could grow, she moved her jaw down further and took in his balls as well. 
She had in her mouth then all of the wondrous toys of a small boy, and they 
were jewels of a sort that brought instant fire to the beholder. She had 
caressed them with her eyes. Now she caressed them with her tongue and lips. 

He liked what she was doing to him....Oh, hell, yes, but he'd never played 
around with a woman and he wanted to see the sights. When he grew impatient 
and reached for her, she pushed his hand away. Without even looking up, she 
pulled open the knotted sash of her robe, then shoved the panels of that 
robe aside. She wore nothing underneath. 

"Hey! WOW. Oh, jeez! That got it up, huh?" 

It had. His sweet little prod was shivering with new-found strength and as 
it lurched to its full length, his balls were pulled from her mouth. Meg was 
left breathless and gasping at having felt that precious flesh go through 
its change. It was such an intensely erotic experience, in fact, that she'd 
lost the urge to get herself fucked. Shaking with excitement, she wanted 
only to go on sucking ... and sucking ... and.... 

The boy was poking his finger in around her cunt, pulling the lips apart to 
see what lay beneath. Soon he was so excited that he could wait no more. 

"Let loose!" he grunted. "I'm going to ball you, lady. I can't stick it in 
your snatch if you're going to hang onto it like that. Hey!" 

He hit her. With the flat of his hand, he let her have it across the face. 
He didn't mean to hit her hard, but she was getting too carried away with 
that thing and it was the only prick he had. 

Anyway, it made her jump back and, in so doing, she released him. In that 
instant, he was on her, wallowing in her great big tits and jabbing his cock 
in the general vicinity of her cunt. 

She grunted only once. Then, as soon as she got used to the idea, she spread 
out and rolled it up where he could stick her. Before she could guide him 
in, he'd managed to poke it in on one of his flurried thrusts. 

"Ahhhhh," he sighed. 

Once in, he held, not about to be turned out of that hot, moist nest that 
his pecker had finally found. It wasn't as tight as an asshole, but there 
were muscles there that he'd never met up with before and a warm saddle with 
tits and stuff to mess with that more than made up for it. 

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" he sighed again. 

He was too paralyzed with excitement to move. He got his finger in the 
jampot and that was as far as he was able to go. 

"Fuck me ... please!" she begged. "You've got to move ... push it in ... 
PLEASE!" 

Now she was sounding like a grown-up, telling him what and when to do it. 
Laying there between her thighs, all nice and warm, the boy didn't care if 
he ever left. His cock lay deep inside of her, all stiff and throbbing, and 
he could feel her muscles kneading at him to make his bliss complete. 

"You really need it, don't you, mama?" he teased. 

And then he had a need of his own. Drawing his ass up away from her, he 
pressed the soft, pliable flesh of his cockhead in against her spread crack, 
sending spasms of exciting thrills flashing through him, and to his 
surprise, she moaned. 

"Yes ... oh, yes! I want it ... I need it. Please!" Her voice was a 
passionate whimper, for her entire body had begun to shake. He could feel 
her juices boiling up as the burning hotness of his cock pressed into her. 
It slithered down and down until she was squeezing his crotch with her 
grabbing, kneading cunt. She let out a deep and satisfied moan. 

These sounds ... these sounds of delight and passion, thrilled him. Suddenly 
he was as good as any full-grown man for he could make a woman passionate 
with his mighty prick. He jabbed it more deeply into her, making his hard 
piece of meat spread her as it crawled deep into her dark channel. He was 
more than a man now. He was a god. 

She began moving her hips in circles as he worked, for he was still small 
and she wanted to feel him every place that she could. The slickness of her 
cunt and the slosh of her juices made his small prod like a stir stick, 
churning her ardor to a white-hot heat. 

All shame and embarrassment was blotted out by the red haze of lust that 
burned in her brain. Her mind reeled as the sensations engulfed her, 
triggering bizarre fantasies of what she now did. Many times in the past 
she'd had to depend on those fantasies to see her through a crest. Now she 
was fantasizing reality for what she did here tonight was far more bizarre 
than anything she had ever managed to image. This night, she simply let her 
mind float, moving out away from herself far enough to image and watch what 
she was doing. She stood, figuratively, gaping at her own ripely mature body 
being fucked by a small boy ... a boy with the tenderest, most succulent 
genitals that she'd ever seen in her life. It was as erotic as any scene she 
could have imagined. 

Again she reached for his ass, as she had before, but this time she held it 
with her legs instead of her hands. Hotly, she ground his little body down 
against her own with a total, fierce commitment. Her cunt was trying its 
best to devour his little plunging cock. 

"Give it to me!" she moaned. "Let me feel him blow up inside of me." 

As she spoke, her snatch coaxed and sucked on his stiff muscle, drawing it 
out to its full length while pulling and tugging at the shivering, sensitive 
head. She could feel her orgasm approaching, bubbling up with that last, 
wonderful surge of passion, and she desperately wanted the boy to make it 
with her. 

"Fuck me! Fuck me! I'm going to cum," she wailed. 

Either he didn't know or he didn't care, for he would not be rushed. His 
hips kept a steady, unhurried pack as his cock slid in and out of her. 
Riding just below the threshold of her passion, she knew that his deliberate 
delay would keep her from reaching any crest at all before long. She was 
stretched tight, her nerves drawn to the last possible degree. 

"Faster! Harder! Give it to me, you little bastard!" she screamed. "Let me 
have it! Make me cum! Make me cum!" 

She was in tears, her voice rising and falling with her motions. Then, 
suddenly he cried, "Let's go!" 

Now his hips worked violently, thrusting into her channel until she wanted 
to scream with delight. He was the over-eager boy, the humping dog, the ram 
screwing his sheep, only Meg was no passive sheep. With her legs locked 
around his small ass, she worked with him. Her hips thrust violently, though 
she could no longer control her rhythm. 

As her lust overcame her, she lunged frantically at his stabbing pointer. 
Moving her hips in large, grinding circles, she forced his little cock to 
scrape against her cunt walls and poke into every inflamed recess. 

Finally, with one powerhouse lunge, she shuddered into her crest. Pushing 
... pushing, she felt herself roll over the edge. Then the boy's prick gave 
a mighty jerk and she felt his cum begin to pour. She held her breath as his 
cock pulsed deep within her, and then her body went limp. 

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" she moaned. 

Passion flooded over her and she lay there, savoring the feel of the stiff, 
jerking cock within her. Her excitement had been so great that her own 
juices were now dripping off the boy's balls. 

"It's been so long ... so long," she moaned. "Dear God, I'm so sorry, but 
... it's been so long! " 

"Hey, wow!" the boy panted. "That was a great piece of tail you put out, 
lady. Man, I'll give you a little any time you like." 

"NO!" she wailed. "I don't want to ever see you again." 

"Oh, bullshit," he snorted. "You'll be hot to trot in no time. My big 
brother says there ain't a dame in the world that really means no. Jeez! My 
own fucking mama. Ain't this cool?" 

She didn't hear any more. Rushing into the bathroom, she locked the door, 
and she stayed there until the boy had gone. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Meg was sure that she was losing her mind. She waited for what seemed like 
hours before she dared leave the bathroom, although she'd heard the boy 
leave some time before. Then she spent several more hours pacing the floor. 
Miserably, she realized that she couldn't even tell Dr. Monleon about it. 
He'd helped her so much after Paul died. He'd even explained that some of 
her mental anguish was caused by the sudden lack of sexual fulfillment ... 
and he'd said it without unduly embarrassing her. Gently, he'd gone on to 
suggest a vibrator or whirlpool bath, hinting that she badly needed release. 

Yes, as a psychiatrist, he could appreciate a normal, healthy need for sex, 
she thought, but this thing she had done tonight ... no, she could never 
tell him that. It was not normal. It was terribly ... terribly wrong. 

She went to bed, but every time she closed her eyes she could see that 
young, rigid cock in front of her lips. It made her bum even to think of it, 
yet, when she was not berating herself ... when she relaxed enough to let 
the torture go, that's when the erotic vision immediately returned. 

For the first time in her life, Meg took two sleeping pills, then watched 
television until her eyes dropped shut. 

In her dreams, the little boys came prancing out before her, each a little 
younger than the last, each with an irresistible pecker either dangling or 
jutting from between his legs. By morning, she was more exhausted than she'd 
been in weeks, and her jaw ached where she had unconsciously sucked and 
worked the imaginary cock flesh throughout the night. 

Through the days that followed, Meg kept herself as busy as possible, and 
she was careful to lock her doors at night for fear that horrid little boy 
might return. She went to her doctor, asked for and obtained a prescription 
for more potent sleeping pills. Her doctor sternly advised that she make an 
appointment to have a thorough physical. 

"Meg, you look terrible!" he intoned. "What in God's name are you doing to 
yourself?" 

"Nothing. I just haven't been able to sleep," she lied. "I'll be fine in a 
day or two." 

"You're not sick?" 

"No." 

"Then you should call Monleon. There has to be some reason why a perfectly 
healthy woman suddenly starts looking like a zombie." 

"You're exaggerating," she said. "How many zombies have you ever seen?" 

"I'm looking at one. Now, are you going to call Monleon or shall I?" 

"I will," she lied. 

Of course, she didn't. After what she'd done, she was sure she could never 
consult with him again. That afternoon, Monleon called her, "I heard my most 
beautiful patient has turned into a zombie," he said, ignoring any more 
subtle approach. 

"Doctors gossip a lot," Meg observed. 

"He scratches my back ... you know the bit." 

"There are such things as ethics." 

Monleon chuckled. "You coming in?" he demanded. 

"I-I don't think so." 

"Is it something so bad you can't even tell your psychiatrist? My God! " 

He was only joking with her, but it didn't help to realize it. He'd hit far 
too close for comfort. 

"I'll come in if I can," she said, her tone thoroughly dead. "I have to go 
now, Doctor." 

"Meg?" 

"Yes?" 

"I kid you, but I'm here whenever you need me ... not professionally, Meg 
... as a friend." 

"Thanks, Don." 

"Okay, I've said my piece. Good-bye, Meg." 

"Good-bye," she whispered and quickly hung up the receiver. 

Meg wasn't sure why she cried after that. It just seemed like a good idea. 
Then she called the beauty parlor and got herself edged in. An afternoon 
under a noisy hairdryer seemed like another good idea, and her ego certainly 
need some shoring up. 

By the time her hair had been combed out, she felt better, and she looked 
better, too, she decided. After all, it had been four days and she hadn't 
been bothered by the boy. There was no reason to think he'd try to force his 
way in. The rest was simply mind over matter. She'd have to get ahold of 
herself. She walked out of the beauty parlor feeling stronger than she had 
since the whole mess began. 

Then it happened again. There was this boy ... a Negro. He was leaning 
against the building and he didn't even glance her way, but his flanks were 
narrow and his pants tight, and Meg could not keep her eyes off his 
immensely bulging crotch. 

My God, she thought frantically, when is it ever going to stop? 

Her cheeks burned as she stood there, and for the life of her she couldn't 
move. Fortunately, the boy did, for a car pulled up and another boy beckoned 
to him. Pushing away from the building with his shoulder, he eased on out to 
the curb, so cool and so muscular that Meg broke out in a cold sweat just 
watching the way he moved. 

When he was gone, Meg called a cab and gave the driver her psychiatrist's 
address. She couldn't tell him what she'd done, she decided, but she was 
going to have to talk to him about her sudden preoccupation with sex. A 
thing like this could be dangerous, both physically and mentally. To lose 
control of herself to the point that she could not move or turn her head 
away was to invite certain disaster unless she could get herself under 
control. 

However, when the cab pulled up in front of Monleon's office, she could not 
go in. She sat there a moment then gave the driver her own address. She 
could not bring herself to share such intimately disgusting details, even 
with him. 

Meg had a neighbor over for dinner that evening, and they managed to find 
two other women for a game of bridge afterward. Her company didn't leave 
until after eleven. 

Maybe now I can get some rest, she thought. A bath, a sleeping pill ... that 
ought to do it. 

She started the water running then stood in front of the mirror, idly 
watching herself as she undressed. At thirty-five, she was still immensely 
attractive. Her hair was a deep, rich brown, so dark as to be called black 
most of the time; full of body and shining with light, it hung halfway to 
her waist when it wasn't set. The beautician had molded this mass into a 
Grecian coiffeur of long curls, drawn back away from her face. A single curl 
dangling from either temple was left to soften the lines of her face. 

Meg's eyebrows were rich and thick. She plucked here and there, but never 
needed any color. Her lashes were long, and when she used an eyelash curler, 
most people thought they were fakes. Her skin was still moist, unwrinkled, 
and almost porcelain in color, a surprising contrast to her dark hair. 

All in all, she decided, she was holding her age miraculously well. Her 
large breasts were still as firm as they were at twenty, and her hips had 
spread only enough to eliminate the stick look she'd had as a child. She had 
never carried a baby in her belly, never spread to give birth. There were no 
stretch marks or breaks to mar her flawless complexion. 

I'm beautiful. Useless, but still beautiful ... so why don't I go out and 
find a man? Why do I hole up here, playing bridge with old ladies until I'm 
so keyed up that I have to play with little boys? Oh damn! I'm back on that 
subject again! 

Meg pulled her mind quickly away, like jumping back from a hot stove. Then 
she remembered the water which was close to overflowing by this time. After 
quickly twisting the knobs to off, she laid out a fresh towel and washcloth 
and found a fairly recent copy of Readers' Digest. That would take her mind 
off things. 

She climbed in, intending to soak for at least an hour, but soon she began 
to worry. Had she remembered to lock the back door after Beth and Sara left? 
She'd locked the front door ... she was sure of that ... when Milly left, 
but the back ... Lord, and the side door to the garage. Good heavens, she 
was almost certain she'd forgotten the garage. 

After scarcely scanning "Humor In Uniform," she closed the magazine, laid it 
on the floor and quickly began lathering herself. There was no use trying to 
relax with such thoughts on her mind. Rinsing off, she got up and toweled 
herself dry. Then she grabbed up a robe and set out to check the doors. Both 
back and front were securely locked, but the garage and kitchen doors were 
not. 

It was after midnight before Meg climbed into bed, popped a sleeping pill 
into her mouth, and turned out the light. In ten minutes, she was fast 
asleep. 

It didn't last long. First there was a cold draft, then a warm, fleshy 
feeling next to her leg, and then she distinctly felt a hand graze softly 
over her breast. She was so sleepy, and the feeling was so good, but a part 
of her brain nagged and worried her back to consciousness. 

"Wha...? Where am...? Who...? OH, my God! NO! Not again!" 

"Hi, lady," the boy chirped. "I'm back, but I sure didn't expect you'd wake 
up this quick." 

"I can't ... how did you get in?" she stammered tearfully. 

"I got here while you were playing cards," he admitted. "I waited around 
until you went to sleep 'cause I didn't want no hassle, you know? But damn, 
you woke right up. I figured you'd stay asleep until...." 

"You've got to leave this minute," Meg said sternly. Raising up on one 
elbow, she reached for the lamp on the bedside table, but he caught her arm 
and pulled it back. 

"Better listen first," he said with just enough suggestion that she had to 
hear. He was, after all, a vile enough child to be capable of anything, she 
decided. She paused, and he let his hand slide down her arm and over her 
breast onto her belly. 

"I've been thinking a whole lot, lady," he said. "I figure you need a kid 
like me around ... to mow the lawn and stuff. You know?" Finding her hand, 
he took it and carried it to his small, rigid pole. "I don't think you'd 
want to go tell people about us, and I know I wouldn't spoil a good thing, 
so I don't want to fink on you. Mmmmm, feel good? Anyway, I guess you had a 
pretty good time the other night, and I liked it a lot, so why don't you 
leave the light out and let's mess around a while?" 

"You don't know the torture it put me through," Meg whined. "I can't go 
through it again. Son, you're too...." 

"Not son ... my name is Danny," he said. 

"All right, Danny," she said. "At any rate, you're too young to realize how 
wrong...." 

"What's your name?" 

"Mrs. Culbertson." 

"No, your name...." 

"... ah, Margaret. My friends call me Meg, but you're really not...." 

"Meg ... I like that. You're a real nice-looking lady, Meg," he said. "I've 
been feeling awful good 'cause of you. Mmmmmmm, not as good as now ... but I 
get so horny sometimes, I just can't stand it. That's when I go find some 
kid too little to fight back. You're really helping me out, Meg, 'cause I'll 
get in awful trouble if I ever get caught reaming a little guy's ass. I 
figure you've got the hornies and I've got the hornies so we can sort of 
help each other out." 

Meg wished she could rationalize it all away like that. She couldn't ... 
yet, she was....She hated the idea ... yet, she was already burning to throw 
back the covers and look and love what she now only felt with her hands. 

And it felt divine! So soft, like the softest kid glove, and the skin slid 
so smoothly as she worked it out and in. His balls ... could they be as 
tender as she remembered? Lord, yes ... they were....They were! So small. 
They were marbles ... what were the big ones called? She couldn't remember. 
There were taus and megs ... she always got mad when the kids called her 
marbles. 

"We're going to be good for each other," he said as he snuggled in against 
her. She didn't answer. 

His hand slid inside her gown where he could squeeze her tit, but otherwise, 
he lay motionless, praying she would never stop. She was stroking him in the 
most marvelous way. Her hands would close over his bat and balls like a clam 
closing over its prey. Then she'd pull her hands away, the wrists pressed 
together and the fingers trailing over his flesh as she gently pulled them 
to her. When first his balls and then his pole quivered free, he felt an 
almost overwhelming burst of excitement flood through him. Then, before he 
could catch his breath, it started all over again. 

"Meg?" he asked finally. 

"Yes?" 

"You going to suck me a little?" 

"Yes!" 

He waited but she made no move to change the slow, sensuous rhythm of her 
hands. 

"Meg?" 

"Yes?" 

"I'm getting awfully hot," he whined. "Maybe you better do it pretty soon, 
if you're going to." 

"There's plenty of time," she whispered. 

She was a woman possessed. No longer did she moan and rail over her 
compulsively lewd behavior. Now, she didn't care. She was to have a second 
night of sex. She had succumbed, and she knew she would pay for it a 
thousand times over tomorrow. For what must be paid for so dearly, she might 
as well enjoy as much as she could. 

Reaching over, she snapped on the light, then pulled back the covers so that 
she could see his dearest parts. As she stared hungrily down at him, she 
pulled up her nightgown and skinned it up and over her head. The boy gazed 
at her with a far-away, contented smile. Passively, he waited for what she 
had to give. 

"So your name is Danny," she said. 

"Yes." 

"I've dreaded the thought of ever meeting you again," she said, 
matter-of-factly. "Do you know that?" 

He nodded. "That's why I wasted all that time until you were asleep. I 
figure we're a lot alike, but it's harder for you to ... well, to come 
around." 

She leaned over him then, and her tits grazed sensuously over him. "I've 
come," she rasped, "and I'm going to cum and cum and cum ... until we're 
both sick of the whole thing. Somehow, I'm going to get over you ... over 
this whole, dirty business ... even if I have to screw my way through it. 
Now, shut up and let me get my mouth on it. " 

Danny weighed in at eighty-five pounds; his paramour was a well-padded 
hundred and thirty-five. Danny was four-foot-ten, Meg a stately five-six. 
However, Danny had a nipple-sized mouth, his sex partner a mouth-sized 
nipple. Danny had a pintsized prick ... Meg a prick-sized mouth ... and 
everything of one that touched the other brought about a shock of 
excitement. Danny was the positive ... Meg the negative. Together, they were 
the alpha and the omega. 

The softly-padded woman twisted around to lay against the hard, small-boned 
boy, and her mouth took in his cock and turned him into a god. Hugging her 
big tits, he found himself staring into her cunt, the first he'd ever looked 
at close in his life. 

At first it repulsed him, but as her tongue gently began to suck and the 
fire rippled through him, her old cunny began to look better and better. 
Pretty soon, it even smelled good ... kind of hot and sexy. By God, if she 
kept on sucking him like that, he might even stick his tongue in that thing 
before it was over. A guy'd have to be awful hot to do a thing like that to 
a girl. They were built clean and neat like a guy. 

Meg was oblivious to all but that precious, delectable flesh within her 
mouth. How could anything on this whole miserable earth compare? she 
wondered. Drawing away from him, she stared at it, all wet with her saliva 
and when she slowly skinned it back with her fingers, the sight of his 
smooth cockhead still made her shiver. What wonders that wrinkly skin tried 
to hide from her hungering view. His little cockhead was so perfectly formed 
with a heart-shaped ridge that was quite pronounced. His sweet little 
love-eye squeezed out a tear even as she stared at it, and she leaned down 
and flicked it into her mouth with her tongue. Then it was back into her 
mouth with his entire prod, for it was too sweet to be left alone. 

Her hand worked over his balls and then moved on to massage his tiny ass. 
When she discovered his tight little asshole, she massaged it compulsively, 
promising herself to explore it further later on. 

She was drooling so heavily that the fluids were pouring out of her mouth, 
and her cunt felt like it was weeping almost as much. The boy was obviously 
greatly moved, for he was squirming and moaning as he jabbed his thin hips 
up against her. 

When his short fuse threatened to blow, and she knew that his cum was about 
to come, it excited her so that she almost had an orgasm on the spot. 

"Meg!" he whimpered. "I'm fucking off. Oh, Meg! I'm going to CUMMMMMMMMMM!" 

Do it! her brain screamed. Let me have it! Let me have your cum! 

Just as his cream began to spurt, the boy shoved his face into Meg's 
steaming pussy. Sucking and wallowing in her woman-juices, he jabbed his 
pecker furiously into Meg's mouth. 

Greedily, she took him. Voraciously, she took it all. 

Then, the shock of his mouth in her cunt brought her suddenly and furiously 
over the brink with him. He felt her explode and then, together, they 
soared. 

Fire swept through her; passion crashed around her. 

"AHHHhhhhhh!" and a week of tense misery was relaxed. 

It was wild ... it was intense, but even as they both went limp, they knew 
that it wasn't enough. This madness was a disease, one which would have to 
run its course, getting more and more feverish ... more and more demanding, 
until some sort of a crisis had past. Meg had a sinking feeling that it 
could be fatal. Then, shrugging off what was to come, she turned around and 
took the boy in her ample arms. 

"It's sure great, doing it in a bed," Danny mused. "I always seemed to pick 
the wettest bush in the park to hide behind, and it's hell getting your ass 
all wet and cold when you drop your pants." 

"I guess we all have to hide, one way or another," Meg answered. "Now come 
here. Let me see that sweet little dingus while it's still soft." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Throughout the night, Meg shoved any thought of wrong out of her head. It 
wasn't until she was alone, in the grim light of morning, that shame flooded 
in on her. Then it came in such an overwhelming gush that she was completely 
hysterical for several hours. In anguish, she pounded her fists against the 
mattress and soaked her pillow with bitter tears. 

How could a heart that meant so well exist in a body that was so weak? Could 
the soul really be so black? Surely she had a soul. How could she have gone 
through life blandly avoiding so much evil and still have all this evil in 
her? Good heavens, she'd never even taken up smoking! 

Meg? Oh, heaven's no. She doesn't smoke. Sucks little boys' cocks now and 
then, but you'd never catch a filthy cigarette in her mouth. 

I'm going mad. That's it. No normal person could think up such perverse 
ideas. 

But it wasn't my idea ... none of it. I didn't set out to seduce boys. He 
was there, being nasty in my own garage ... and I'd been without it so long. 
If he wasn't with me he'd be out forcing his attentions on some innocent 
child. He said so himself! 

When her arguments became too fierce, she'd again dissolve into tears. She 
did not get dressed or make any attempt to straighten herself out through 
the entire day. It was not until the shadows of the late afternoon began to 
lengthen that she realized something had to be done. Night was coming and 
with the night, he could always find a way to return. If she was to prevent 
a repeat of this last night's performance, she was going to have to do it 
now. Her conscience ... even her sanity demanded that she make the effort. 

To this point, she had been like the sheaf of grain, bending before the 
wind. To have to admit that she had given in to a twelve-year-old child was 
ridiculous but, at least on the surface, it was the truth. 

Now, however, she knew that if she stayed exactly where she was, making no 
drastic changes in her life, he would come to her again and again. And when 
he did, her presence in that house meant that she was, quite literally, 
asking for it. That, she could never do. 

She paced. She fretted. She thought of a dozen people she should consult and 
discarded every one. She thought of another dozen people she could visit, 
but eventually she would have to say good-bye and head for home. And how 
could she explain such a visit? 

When the solution came to her, it was so obvious, she was furious for not 
having thought of it sooner. There was the cabin, that white elephant she'd 
been trying to sell ever since Paul died. He couldn't follow her there. He 
could not leave home that long, she hoped, and even if he could, and if he 
somehow found her mailing address, he could never find the cabin. She'd 
hated it when Paul bought a place so far from everything. They had no 
neighbors closer than five miles and the closest store was ten! 

Now that same location was perfectly suited to Meg's needs. It was already 
four o'clock and if she set her mind to it, she could be ready to leave by 
five. She called Sara first. 

"I'm going up to the cabin," she announced. 

"Got a buyer?" 

"Nope. I'm going to commune with nature myself." 

"Balls." 

"Sara, I don't have much time and I need your help." 

"You've met a man." 

"Sara!" 

"Sorry. Go on." 

"Could you tell the paper boy to stop delivery ... and call Mr. Jennings 
about the milk?" 

"Sure." 

"And tell Beth and Milly for me. Tell them I tried to call them and their 
lines were both busy ... must have been talking to each other." 

"When will you be back?" 

"I don't know. I may stay a couple of weeks, Sara. I've been moping around 
here for so long, and I just keep feeling worse. I got to thinking about how 
I'd let the cabin go. It hasn't been painted in three or four years, so I'm 
going to kill two birds with one stone. It'll feel good having something to 
do, and painting and fixing up that cabin will help me get it sold." 

"Makes sense," Sara said, "but give me a call every once in a while so we 
won't worry about you. Okay?" 

"Will do," Meg readily agreed. "You won't forget Mr. Jennings or the paper 
boy?" 

"I won't forget. Have fun and get to feeling good. You've been lousy at 
bridge lately." 

"Thanks. 'Bye." 

"Good-bye." 

Meg hurriedly began to pack. She did not take time to sort, but took all of 
her slacks, shorts, blouses, and loungewear. To this she added her lingerie 
and all of her casual shoes. A few sweaters and jackets finished off the 
fourth suitcase. Then, picking up her train case, she moved on in to clean 
out the bathroom of cosmetics, hair supplies, and medicines. 

Ah, she remembered, the sleeping pills are in by the bed. Mustn't forget 
precious oblivion. 

When she retrieved them, she found that there were only six capsules left. 
She certainly didn't want to have to drive back to the city for a 
prescription refill. 

The telephone number was on the label. She dialed the pharmacy. 

"Lomay's Drug," answered the pharmacist. 

"Hello," she said. "This is Meg Culbertson. I picked up a prescription for 
sleeping pills last week ... on Thursday, it was ... I have six left but I'm 
leaving for the mountains for several weeks. I'll need a refill." 

"What is the prescription number, Mrs. Culbertson?" he asked. 

She gave it to him and then waited while he looked it up. 

"I'll have to call Doctor Brian for an okay," he said. "Can I call you 
back?" 

"Certainly," Meg said, and she gave him her number. "I'd like to leave 
within the hour if possible," she cautioned. 

"I'll call you back within ten minutes," he promised. 

She hoped Dr. Brian wouldn't call with a lot of questions, but if he did, 
she'd let him know that she didn't like having him tell Dr. Monleon her 
business. Yes, she decided, he should be told. 

She never got the chance, for Dr. Brian never called. In the midst of 
performing minor surgery when the call came, he could do little but okay the 
refill. He reminded himself to call her as soon as he got the chance, and, 
in fact, he actually did, but by that time it was too late. Meg Culbertson 
was on her way. 

The farther away from the city Meg got, the more she was able to relax. By 
the time she reached the foothills, she was feeling better than she had in 
weeks. 

This is the best idea I've had in months, she decided. 

Meg was totally surprised at the village of Piney Hill. It had grown so, she 
hardly recognized it. There were three new ski lifts she noticed on the way 
in that should have warned her. There were new cabins everywhere she looked 
and even a rustic Alpine shopping center in place of the general store. 

It irritated her, for her cabin had been up for sale for a full year without 
a nibble. Either the place was a lot worse than she remembered it or there 
were some lazy real estate men in Piney Hill. Of course, Paul had picked a 
remote place for a cabin, she told herself. Still, it wasn't that remote. 

Meg was almost afraid she'd find cabins all the way up to her place, since 
she'd come to be alone, but the last three miles into her road was still 
virgin timber. She was greatly relieved. 

Her relief was short lived, however, for less than thirty feet from her turn 
off she saw a freshly cut road angling off into the timber in almost the 
same direction as her road. 

"Good Lord," she muttered. 

Braking to a halt, she saw a sign hanging from a high board raised above the 
gate. She could not make out the words from her car. Irritated, she backed 
up and angled in enough so that the outer rim of light from her headlamps 
caught the name carved into the board. MALLOWAY, it read, and in smaller 
words below ... Boys' Camp. 

Oh, my God! 

Her heart hit dead bottom and stayed there. It felt like lead laying against 
her chest. 

Her thoughts raced. 

Fate is playing tricks on me! Trying to drive me insane ... but I won't let 
it. No wonder they couldn't sell the place with a camp full of noisy 
youngsters next door. I wonder how far away they are, really. Well, all I 
have to do is keep to myself, hike in the other direction and ignore them. 
I'm running away from one particular little boy, after all ... not the whole 
childish herd. No reason to go to pieces. May even be good for me to have to 
talk to some normal youngsters. Yes, it would help push away the sordid 
things, the talk and the movements. If I actually talked to a normal kid, 
I'd probably see how foolish all this has been. One rotten apple ... that's 
what he was. Oh, not that I'm going to go looking for a boy to talk to. 
Lord, no! I'd rather not have to talk to anyone up here ... but if I 
happened onto one. Well, there'd be no need to panic. 

In the half-a-minute it took these thoughts to rush through her brain, Meg 
managed to rationalize herself from near-panic to a fairly substantial calm. 
Pulling her car back on the road, she made the wide swing onto her own road 
and headed in to her cabin. It was a little less than half a mile. She met a 
deer standing in the road, his eyes shining as he stared into the 
headlights. His proud head carried a magnificent set of antlers ... she 
thought six points but she couldn't be sure. For a couple of seconds he 
stood there, poised against the dark shadows of the forest. Then he darted 
into the night. Meg was smiling as she pulled up in front of the cabin. Just 
seeing the buck and being here in the brisk mountain air made her feel 
cleaner inside. 

She was chilled to the bone by the time she got everything inside and got a 
fire going in the fireplace. It was so like Paul to cut kindling and make up 
the fireplace before they left. All she had to do was light the match, but 
she felt eerie inside as she did. Paul had been alive when he crumpled that 
old newspaper and carefully laid in kindling and logs. Now he was gone. 

She shook her head and set about removing the dust covers from the 
furniture. Like the fireplace, she found the kerosene lamps filled and ready 
to light. Then she began putting up groceries and found a very dead mouse in 
the mousetrap under the sink. She remembered Paul setting the trap and for a 
moment, she was sorry that she had come. 

Lugging her four heavy suitcases up to the loft where the bed was took her 
mind off the other, except that once she thought, I never had to lug these 
darn things when Paul was here. And things had seemed so wonderful when I 
saw the deer. Remember that deer, old girl. Things are going to be 
wonderful! 

The cabin was an A frame ... one of those do-it-yourself kits that was 
always tempting Paul, and he had done it himself quite well. There were a 
lot of innovations that never came with any kit, including a flush toilet, 
an old tub (with eagle and ball feet), and a butane hot water heater to make 
the bath worth while. There was no electricity, but Paul had installed 
butane lamp jets in various places where light fixtures are usually found, 
and there were many portable kerosene lamps. He had managed to create a 
place that made you feel like you were roughing it, but always comfortably.
 By midnight, Meg was tucked into a freshly made bed and had taken her 
sleeping pill. Hopefully drowsy, she browsed through a Woman's Day. She 
wished she had the patience for needlepoint, but doubted she ever would. 
Nice patterns, though. She read about a new diet since she'd added five 
sloppy pounds since Paul died. Nobody else could see it, but she knew it was 
there. Then she found a recipe for a cheese-cake and whip cream dessert that 
was topped with glazed cherries. 

Well, she thought, that blows the diet. First time I have to go into Piney 
Hill, I'll pick up the makings. 

As soon as her eyes began to droop, she blew out the lamp and stretched out. 

"I'm back to normal, she thought warmly as she drifted off. I can feel the 
difference already. 

She felt that way for most of the next morning, for she was busy with her 
moving in. Then, as she began having to think of jobs to do, her thoughts 
again grew grim. 

I need to get out ... take a walk, but how can I when I don't know what 
direction that damnable camp is? That road could curve in and all the way 
around me for all I know ... or they could be just on the other side of 
those trees. Damn! I'm afraid to go anywhere until I know. 

She stewed about it on into the afternoon. Then about three, she had an 
idea. 

"I'll drive up the road and see. It's the only way I'm going to be able to 
relax. It's probably fifteen miles from here on the other side of the 
mountain ... either way, I've got to know. 

Grimly determined, she locked up the cabin (she'd been careful to lock 
everything she owned since Danny showed up the second time). Then she 
climbed into her car and drove back out to the road, keeping care to keep 
her sense of direction constantly alert. In the heavy timber the road could 
veer slightly and she could misjudge how closely it paralleled her own road. 

She found the gate to Malloway Boys' Camp not only closed but heavy and 
cumbersome enough to make it difficult to budge. Clumsily, she wrestled it 
back and drove through, being careful to close it before she went on. 

Check your speedometer, she reminded herself. That's using your head. Better 
write it down. 

She drove slowly, hawk-eyeing every twist in the road. Frequently, she'd try 
to imagine how far it was over to her own road. This continued for a mile 
and then she knew she was well past her own place. She began to breathe 
easier. 

I ought to turn around the next chance I get, she decided. As long as 
they're this far away, I won't have to worry about them. Let's see. It's one 
mile and six tenths now. Oh, thank heaven. Now if I could just find a place 
to turn around. 

The trees had been cleared only a road width and a few feet. Further, the 
rocks and dirt hillocks removed to form the road had been scraped to the 
side arid left, forming a ridge of debris a foot or more high on either 
side. There was no break in either the trees or the ridges for another mile. 
Then, with startling suddenness, she found herself in the camp! 

She knew exactly where she was now, for the camp was in the only meadow in 
ten miles and Fish creek ran through the middle of it. She gave little 
thought to the changes they had made, however, for a dammed-up pond a few 
feet from her car, a dozen attractive little boys were scampering around in 
the nude! 

That's all I needed! she thought furiously, but her eyes were already 
riveted on wet, shiny little bodies. A young man, also in the nude, was 
directing them from the shore. When he caught sight of Meg, he grabbed up a 
towel and quickly wrapped it around his long, hair-surrounded dick, then 
marched over to her car. 

"Lady, you're not supposed to come in here," he scolded. 

Her eyes still on the boys, she mumbled something about owning the cabin 
next door. 

"I hadn't been up here in a year ... couldn't understand why it wouldn't 
sell ... all this is new." 

"Yes, well, I'm sorry about that. This is a state experimental camp for 
underprivileged boys, so if you've got any complaints you'll have to call 
the welfare department. You can't stay here." 

Meg's face was burning along with her crotch. With a herculean effort, she 
whirled away from the sight of munchy little penises. 

"Get out of my way!" she snapped. 

Setting the car in drive, she pushed her foot on the gas pedal, steered a 
tight, screeching circle around the drive, and roared back down the road. 

"Oh, God!" she wailed. "I shouldn't have gone there! Now it's all back ... 
it's all there!" 

The bum in her crotch was certainly there like hell's own fire. Like a 
maniac she raced to the main road, opened the gate, squealed around and 
ripped up into her own drive. Skidding to a frantic halt, she jerked out the 
keys and set the brake at the same time. The car door slammed shut with such 
force that it sent chipmunks and rabbits scurrying for half a mile. 

In the door, up the stairs, and to the bed ... kicking off her shoes so 
vigorously that one landed in the living room below. 

I can't stand it! I can't go through this again! 

Then she bawled ... convulsively, with such an all-consuming power that it 
was more seizure than surrender. After an hour or two, exhaustion set in, 
but as soon as she began to relax, the vision of those little boys and their 
precious, dangly water slick peters came sharp into her brain. In three-D, 
wide screen, and full color, she could see them all. That stud of a coach 
couldn't have been more then seventeen or so, and he was such a contrast to 
the boys with his wiry bush and his fat, dark pecker hanging all warm and 
relaxed in the sun. Only a few of the boys had any hair there. Their little 
cocks, for the most part, hadn't even begun to darken. Like the tastiest com 
that has developed its kernels but not yet turned yellow, these boys sported 
genitals that were unbelievably tender. Even the thought of that succulent 
flesh made Meg's mouth water. 

"I can't live with this! I can't! I can'!" she wailed. 

She rolled, she bawled, she went through a frenzied hysteria that persisted 
far into the night. Yet, whenever she pulled herself together and managed to 
regain some semblance of composure, the erotic dreams soon began. Until the 
sun flooded into her room the following morning, she was not able to break 
the destructive cycle. 

I've got to get ahold of myself, she thought. I'd be better off at home ... 
even with Danny, than to lay around and go off my rocker here. 

She got up and made herself a pot of coffee. 

I'll take a walk ... maybe climb the mountain, and I'll get myself so 
exhausted I can't put one foot in front of the other. Then I'll drop into 
bed, take two of these potent sleeping pills and get some sleep. It's sleep 
I need. I'll be able to think better after I've had some sleep. 

It was an ambitious program, but she felt better as she sipped her coffee. 
At least she was doing something constructive to get herself going again. 
She even toasted some bread in the oven and poached herself an egg. She felt 
almost human as she set out. 

She headed east, since the boys' camp was due west. After half a mile, the 
trail began to climb. She was on her way up the mountain. It wasn't a high 
mountain, as mountains go, but it did afford a good view of the surrounding, 
forest-clad countryside. It was also high enough to exercise a person's 
muscles and cause him to breathe heavily by the time he reached the top. 

For a time, she didn't notice the effort. She found a tiger lily blooming 
beside a rotten stump, and the trilliums, their flowers long since turned 
brown, dotted the forest floor. There was a blue jay who heaped abuses on 
her for intruding upon his private domain and a robin that ignored her 
completely. 

The effort soon began to tell, however, and the more the effort, the less 
beauty she bothered to see. She argued with herself to turn back, as tired 
as she was, but she kept stubbornly plugging along until the big boulders 
that capped off the mountain top were in plain sight up ahead. 

This is far enough, she thought, I've made it. 

But she did not turn back. That same, almost superstitious streak that had 
kept her from stepping on lines and cracks all the way to school when she 
was a small child now forced her to reach die very top before it would let 
her start down. She could not force herself to be practical about it. 

"All right, all right," she grumbled sheepishly, "but it is ridiculous!" 

So? I go clear to the top, she thought absently. The view's better from 
there anyway. It's silly to get this close and then not see it. 

On up she went, her neck and shoulders knotting with the effort. She had 
just reached the top and relaxed ... perhaps collapsed would be more 
accurate ... when she was startled out of her senses by a voice. 

"You ain't making me go back," come the high pitched, boyish wail. "I won't 
... no matter what you say." 

Meg closed her eyes for a minute and shuddered. Her mouth was suddenly very 
dry. Slowly she turned toward the sound and found herself staring at a 
golden haired, beautiful little boy. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

If she'd been standing, she might have run, but having sat down and let the 
strain flow out of her body, she had no defenses left. Her muscles would not 
move. 

"I'm not from the camp," she said wearily. "You should go back before they 
miss you, though." 

"Oh they've missed me, all right," he assured her proudly. "I've been up 
here all night long." 

She shook her head. "I live closest to the camp and no one came asking for 
you." 

He's younger than Danny, she thought. What an adorable, defiant little waif. 

"That's 'cause they'd figure on me heading the other way," he said 
confidently. "I thought of that. They'd just naturally figure I'd head for 
home. Right?" 

"If you say so," she mumbled. 

He'd come over to where she was sitting then leaned back against a big 
boulder. Slowly, he let himself slither down that boulder until he was 
squatting on his haunches, his back still back against the rock. It was a 
show of bravado by an obviously very lonesome little boy, but when his knees 
jack-knifed out, it opened his crotch up with its tight covering of denim 
pants over a large, soft-looking bulge. The urge to reach out and touch ... 
to stroke and feel that spongy tenderness was almost more than Meg could 
bare. 

"What are you doing up here?" he asked. 

She shrugged, with a pretense of casualness, for her face was beginning to 
bum, and she could not take her eyes from that bulge. 

"Just walking," she managed. 

"You come here often?" he asked. 

"No. I used to but not any more." 

Her hands itched. Her elbow knotted and she could feel the tendons pull with 
the desire to reach out to him. 

"How come?" 

"My husband died a year ago," she said. "We came here often together, 
especially in the winter. He liked to ski." 

"Gee, I'm sorry." 

"It's all right. What's your name?" 

"Mike." 

"Well, Mike, if you're really going to run away, you'd better come down to 
my cabin and let me take some extra stitches in those pants. They look like 
they may split open." 

"Where?" he asked. 

Her hand darted out before she could stop herself. The satisfaction of 
pushing her fingers into his soft underbelly set her on fire. Slowly ... 
deliberately, she ran them down over his crotch bulge. 

"Hey!" he said, jumping a little at the touch. "Is it split?" 

"No," she said. "It's just beginning to pull a little. The threads often get 
worn out ... like here ... and here." 

She ran her fingers over imaginary faults in the stitching and delighted in 
the pliant feel of the flesh beneath. For a long moment, neither spoke. Then 
the boy, embarrassed by the pause, said, "Oh." 

"Yes," Meg answered hurriedly. "I live just half a mile or so from the 
bottom of the hill. If you want to come with me, I'll fix it for you." 

She couldn't stop. Her fingers kept rolling around over that delectable 
flesh, and now things were beginning to happen. There was a hardening and a 
changing of shape and a shiver passed through the child's body. 

"What are you doing?" he whined. 

For a moment she didn't answer as the question screamed at her accusingly. 
Then, since she could not stop what she was doing, she painted on her most 
charming smile. 

"I'm just comforting you ... trying to make you feel good," she said. "It 
must have been awfully cold and lonely, being up here alone all night." 

"Yea," he said. 

"If you want me to, I'll stop," she went on. Another pause and her fingers 
were now outlining a definite log. 

"Uh ... no ... I guess it's all right." 

"Tell me about yourself, Mike," she said. "Where are you from?" 

"Oakland," he said. "Uh ... it's a crummy place." 

"I've been there," Meg said. "I don't think it's all that bad." 

"It is in the part where I live," he said. Involuntarily, his knees began to 
strain outward as he pushed his crotch into her fondling hands. The outline 
of his little cock was surprisingly large. Gripping it between her fingers, 
she began working it from three sides, and his voice cracked in the middle 
of a sentence. 

"Do you like to make little boys feel good?" he asked finally. 

"Yes, Mike," she said miserably, "especially when they're cold and kind of 
lonely. I never had any children of my own, but I always wanted a boy. Does 
it feel real good?" 

"....Yeah ... kind of." 

"Come here and sit next to me where your legs can stretch out," she 
suggested. 

He hesitated, still a little embarrassed about what they were doing. When 
she took her hand away, however, the loss was immediate and he squirmed 
around to do as she asked. Once he was sitting rather than crouched, the 
strain on his jeans relaxed and his small pole began tenting the material 
forward. This gave Meg new areas of flesh to rub. 

"Ohhhhhh," groaned the boy before he could stop himself. Then he clenched 
his mouth tightly to keep from letting her know how deeply her caress was 
affecting him. 

"Poor lamb," she said. "Here, let me make it feel better." 

Her fingers slid in under his waistband and her thumb slipped the button 
through its hole. Deftly, her other hand moved in to slide down the zipper. 

"Wh-what are you doing?" he groaned. 

"Just going to make it feel better," she cooed. "Here now. Let's see what 
you've got here ... sort of like opening a present, isn't it? If only those 
old undies weren't in the way. Mmmmmmm, there we go. My, that looks good 
enough to eat." 

She had spread open the front of his pants with a great show of 
anticipation, and, in fact, her hands were actually shaking. He stared down 
at what she was doing to him, but though it embarrassed him to have her 
undress him like that, he liked the way she made him feel so good that he 
couldn't make himself push her away. 

He allowed her to pull out his shorts and peek down at his hard pecker, and 
all the while he was fairly bursting as he waited to feel her long, warm 
finger on his skin. Then she put two fingers on his little dick and slowly 
peeled the foreskin back until his hard little heart-shaped cockhead was 
shivering there before both of their eyes. 

"It's beautiful, Mike ... just beautiful," she whispered. 

A chill of excitement passed through him but he couldn't answer. He'd always 
thought it was beautiful, too, but he couldn't admit it. He'd played with it 
a lot, too, but he'd never been able to make it feel like this. 

Slowly, she pumped it while they both watched the skin cover and then reveal 
his greatest treasure. 

"What do you call it?" she asked. 

"Uh ... nothing ... just my dick ... or my cock sometimes." 

"Something that precious should have a name." 

"Uh ... yeah, I guess so." 

"You know what I want to do when I look at it?" she asked. 

"No ... what?" 

"I want to kiss it, Mike. Has anyone ever kissed it for you before?" 

"No." 

"It feels awfully good when they do," she said. 

He was beginning to shake all over at the thought, and a tear oozed out of 
its quivering eye. 

"I guess it would," he groaned. 

"Mike?" 

"Yes?" 

"Can I kiss it? Just for a little while?" 

He wanted it worse than anything he'd ever wanted in his life. 

"Yes," he whimpered. 

"And can I hold it in my mouth a little, Mike?" 

"Yes ... yes!" 

And suck on it a little?" 

"Oh, please! Yes! Yes!" 

She moved in as the boy eagerly stretched out for her. She started on his 
belly and worked her way into the V of his pants, smelling his sweat and 
stale urine crotch, kissing and nibbling all the way. When her tongue snaked 
out and stole the first touch of his cockflesh, his entire body jerked 
violently. 

"OHHHHHHHHHHH! " he gasped. 

"Mmmmmmm," she purred. Sniffing, burrowing ... brushing her lips softly over 
his searing flesh, she moved deeper into his heated crotch. 

Whimpering, Mike reached for his pants, frantic now to rid himself of the 
bonds that kept his legs hobbled together. Meg did not let him struggle for 
long. Slipping her hand in to give his ass a loving squeeze, she patted him 
into raising up for her and then slid down his pants with one hand. 

How he opened up then! The moment he kicked the last pantleg free, he began 
trying to jab his pecker into her mouth. With a chuckle, she pulled away, 
sat up, and reached in her pocket for a cigarette. 

"What you doing?" he demanded. 

"Giving you a chance to cool off, honey pot," she said. "If I keep loving 
you like this, you'll blow your top and it will all be over in a couple of 
minutes. You know what I mean?" 

"No ... well, yes. I guess so." 

"You've done it to yourself, surely ... maybe even to other boys." 

"Oh, no! To myself, maybe, but I haven't tried it with the guys yet. Anyway, 
that's queer. I've seen 'em do it though." 

"Seen it? Where?" 

He shrugged. "At camp ... and I saw my friend's sister get fucked once. It 
was pretty bloody." 

"Bloody?" 

"She didn't want to. He stuck her anyway, and she bled. Nnngh, I don't feel 
so good, neither." 

He reached down and grabbed a hold of his prod, squeezing it tightly with 
his fist. 

"No!" cried Meg. "Don't do that!" 

"I can't help it. It aches!" he complained with a groan. "I think I'd better 
go...." 

She couldn't let him leave now. Pulling his hand away, she dropped down. 
Without any preliminaries, she took the full length of his rigid poker into 
her hot, hungry mouth. 

"EYiiiiiiiiiiii!" he wailed. 

Digging in with his shoulders and heels, he arched his ass high off the 
ground. His pecker jerked and bobbed precariously as he squirmed under her 
heated caress. 

Ram it in, honey! she thought. Jam your balls on in, too. I got to have it 
all! 

"Ahhhhh! Oh, God! Oh shit, lady! Oh, damn! Oh, 
mother-fucker-goddamnit-all-to-hell sonofabitch-cunt-bitch-bastard-shit. Oh, 
lady! Please! OHHHHHHHHHHHH!" 

His ass was dancing all over the place by this time. The misery in his voice 
made Meg pull away. 

"Are you all right?" 

"Ohhhh!" he gasped. "Oh, yeah ... I guess so, but God!" 

"You want me to suck it some more, Mike? I love to suck it, you know." 

"Yes." 

"Do you want me to?" 

"Sure ... I ... it just feels so...." 

"So what?" 

"Good, I guess," he said, after some thought. "It's just that it hurts, 
some, but it just hurts so good I can't hardly stand it." 

"Can hardly," she corrected. 

"Please!" he wailed. 

"Please what?" 

"Just do it! Please! Just do it some more ... right now!" 

She dropped back into his lap, but this time she spread his legs and began 
lapping at his balls. She even worked back from there for a time and licked 
the length of his fragrant crease, pausing to tease around his tasty asshole 
until he was beginning to whimper at the delay. 

"Am I bleeding?" he asked. 

"Bleeding?" she asked. "Why should you?"...." Because I'm a virgin," he 
whined. 

"I only poked my tongue into your asshole, pet," she purred. "You haven't 
got a cunt to bleed. Only women have cunts. Now hush! Lay back and relax as 
best you can, because I'm going to suck that sweet tasting prick of yours 
until it cums...." 

"Hurry," he moaned. 

"Spread your legs," she ordered. "That's right. Now when I put my head down, 
you squeeze those legs up around my neck. You can pretend you've got your 
cock in some little girl's pussy and you're fucking away like crazy." 

"Can I fuck your pussy?" 

"Another time, yes," she said. "Right now I've got to suck. Your little cock 
is the tenderest, most succulent flesh I've ever had my mouth on. I just 
can't seem to get enough of little boy dinguses, and yours is the sweetest 
and best I ever saw." 

She sucked his pecker into her mouth and thrilled to the way his legs closed 
tightly around her. His inner thighs hugged her ears and when he began 
stabbing his little prick in and out of her mouth, it was with such a 
convulsive, jerky rhythm that she knew he was on the verge of belching up 
his load. 

Shoot me, baby, she pleaded silently. Squirt me with a mouth full of your 
sweet jazz. 

"AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH!" he wailed. 

His little fucker tattooed her siphoning tongue with its frenzied drives. 
Her own excitement was so intense that she rammed her hand down inside the 
waistband of her slacks ... inside of her panties, to the wet, smoldering 
folds of her own cunt. In slid her finger, going straight to her throbbing 
love-button. 

Oh God! I'm going to cummmmmmmmm! I'M GOING TO CUMMMMMMMMM! 

She rubbed herself frantically, the whole side of her hand sawing back and 
forth as she pulled on the hard, small morsel of flesh. 

"AHYYYYYYYYYYYY!" he wailed. 

His little body stiffened and then Meg felt his cock shudder and jerk. At 
the very crest of her passion, she felt his cum begin to flow. 

It spurted into her mouth, giving her a sense of power along with the 
overwhelming elation. Her heart pounded, her cunt throbbed, and, every ounce 
of her body vibrated with warm, debilitating sensations. 

It was glorious ... then comforting ... then lewd. Finally, it was hell, yet 
it was a hell she could not retreat from. 

"Hey, that was something," he panted. "I never knew you could feel like that 
... not that much, I mean. I wouldn't mind staying at the camp if I could 
sneak off and meet you every day." 

"Why not?" she said miserably. 

"Here ... or at your cabin?" he persisted. 

"Here. I don't want you to come to the cabin. I...." 

"That's all right. We have a free period from two to four. How about 
two-thirty?" 

Meg closed her eyes and grimly pinched in her lips, but she nodded her 
consent. 

"You'll be here?" he insisted. 

"I'll be here," she had to admit. 

"Okay," he said as he climbed back into his pants. "I hope you don't mind my 
going on. It's kind of late and I haven't eaten for a couple of hours. I 
don't want to miss chow." 

"It sure was great. I mean, you really know how to make a guy feel good. " 
He didn't seem to know how to leave. 

"Thank you, Mike. Good-bye." 

He grinned, showing a mass of beautiful white teeth. 

"See ya," he said. 

She watched him go, relieved that he was finally getting away from her 
before she could break down. Her body was satiated at the moment, so that 
she had no intention of meeting the child the next day. Her mind, however, 
was clearing, and once the fog of passion dissolved, she felt a sickness for 
herself that was stronger than the most terrible disease. 

Woodenly, she got to her feet and headed down the mountain, blindly putting 
one foot in front of the other and letting the momentum carry her. The tears 
would not come until later ... the sobs and screams of shame that were now a 
familiar part of her hellish cycle. 

I'm sick ... and I'm rotten ... and I want to die, but I'm too weak to kill 
myself. Oh God, what a way to go! 

Another sleepless night. She took two sleeping pills when she got home and 
soaked in her claw-footed tub. She tried to keep her thoughts away from what 
she had done ... what she had turned into and was, but she couldn't hold it 
off forever. Once the sleeping pills relaxed some of the tension, the tears 
again began to flow. With them came panic, hysteria, near-madness ... or can 
shame be madness? She didn't know. 

In spite of the pills and a warm bath, she did not sleep. For the second 
night in a row, she lay awake, going through her very private kind of hell. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Meg was terrified when she heard the knock at the door. Groggily she pulled 
herself up and tried to orient herself. It was day. Where was the clock? 
Eleven-thirty? Good lord! But who could it be? 

Not Mike! I can't see him again ... ever! 

Not Danny! Surely, he couldn't find his way up here! 

She reached for her robe. 

"Just a minute," she called. 

Could it be the authorities? Maybe even the police? Maybe Mike had second 
thoughts ... maybe he told on her to get himself off the hook. Where is that 
bathrobe? 

There were many possibilities ... all of them bad. She found her robe, 
slipped it on, and leaned over to check her face in the mirror. She was a 
mess. 

And the knocking went on. Shakily, she went to the door, but she did not 
unlatch the lock. 

"Who is it?" 

"Meg? This is Don. Are you all right?" 

"Don?" She still couldn't think. 

"Don Monleon," he answered impatiently. "Meg, open this door." 

Dumbly, she slid open the bolt and then released the door lock. 

"What are you doing up here?" she asked as she opened the door. 

"My God, you look terrible." 

"Thanks." 

"Well, aren't you going to let me in?" 

"Uh, sure ... but what are you doing here?" 

Don pushed her aside enough to step inside and shut the door. 

"I was worried about you," he said. "You buy enough sleeping pills to kill a 
herd of horses and retire into the mountains to brood. I had to make sure 
you were all right ... and I can see you aren't. You hitting the bottle, 
Meg?" 

"Of course not. I can't even offer you a drink. I didn't bring any." 

He stared at her for a moment, judging for himself. Then he walked over to 
the little kitchen and looked around. He picked up the only dirty glass and 
sniffed, then checked in the cupboard below the sink. 

From there he moved over to the bed and picked up the two bottles of 
sleeping pills, estimating at a glance the number of pills she had taken. 

"You're taking two a night." 

Meg's jaw came up defensively. "Yes," she admitted. "I drink coffee, too. 
Would you have a cup?" 

"Sure." 

She rinsed out her percolator and filled it, spooned in the coffee and set 
the pot on the stove. After she turned on the gas, she stood there, staring 
at the flame rather than face him. 

"What is it, Meg?" he asked gently. 

"I don't know," she lied. "I guess it's something that just has to work 
itself up to the surface where I can see it. I can't fight it until then." 

"Let me be the judge of that," he said. "Now, tell me. Are there any good 
restaurants in these mountains." 

"Certainly. The Pines is as good as anything in the city." 

"Good. Then I'd like to take you out to dinner this evening. Since you 
haven't been boozing it up, I'll even buy you two drinks," he said. 

"That isn't necessary, Don. I have plenty of food here. I can...." 

"No, you can't," he said. "You need to get out. For that matter, so do I." 
Meg said. "You need to get out. For that matter, so do I." 

Meg shook her head. As difficult as it was to have to talk to him ... to 
anyone right now, she had to admit that he probably had saved her sanity by 
arriving when he did. 

"I hate to think what you're charging for a house call this far away," she 
snorted. 

Taking her hand, he turned her around to face him. 

"Dr. Monleon is still back in the city," he told her sternly. "Don Monleon 
will listen to anything you tell him ... and he'd go to hell and back to 
help you, but...." 

"But what?" 

"I can't ever be your doctor again, Meg," he said. "I've become too 
emotionally involved to be objective with you." 

"Don, I...." 

"I'm not suggesting anything," he said. "I'm just saying that we've become 
too good of friends ... we are good friends, aren't we, Meg?" 

"Yes, of course," she answered too quickly. 

"As your friend, I can't be objective about you," he said. "I can't sit in 
my office and wait until you decide you need me. When I tried to sleep last 
night, all I could think of was that you were up here with all those 
sleeping pills, and you were in an unhappy state of mind. By the time 
morning came, I had to see for myself that you were all right." 

"Thanks, Don, but I really am all right," she lied. "I just cry a lot." 

"Then you're not all right," he said. 

Nervously, she glanced around, then busied herself at the sink. 

"I was always told that if you were a woman, you cried," she quipped. "Let 
me see now. It's almost noon. I trust you haven't had lunch ... no? Good. 
I'll whip us up a little something." 

"You're evading the issue." 

She attempted a smile. 

"If you get me busy enough, I won't have time to cry," she teased. "This 
lunch will be a therapy project. Okay?" 

"And what happens when I leave?" 

Wearily, she faced him, knowing that she couldn't hold up much longer. 

"Don, I'm really not ready to talk about it," she said miserably. "Please 
don't ask me to. When I can, I'll come to you. Until then, just be here with 
me. It's good to have you here. " 

He nodded his agreement and nothing more was said through coffee or lunch. 
He complained that she fed him too much, and about one o'clock, she 
suggested they walk it off. The day was just right, not too hot ... not too 
cold ... and clear as crystal. 

Meg was careful to choose a path that did not head in the direction of 
either the camp or the mountain. Her brain was taking only one idea in at a 
time. Right now it was concerned with hiding her emotions and her problems 
from the inquisitive Dr. Monleon. He was too good a man to have to hear vile 
confessions from her. Though she realized that he was used to sordid 
problems, she was sure that her sins were more shocking. Even if they 
weren't, the fact that they were friends made such a confession quite 
impossible. 

She suggested the walk more as a nervous outlet to keep busy than anything 
else. There would be more distractions around to keep him from asking 
questions. As they walked, however, two other things began to happen. 

For one thing, she relaxed. It was such a beautiful day that she couldn't 
help breathing in the clean air and feeling somewhat renewed. Then too, Don 
did not question her, and this certainly helped. He knew the woods, knew the 
plants and where to look for them. It was surprising how much his tastes 
were like her own. 

Paul had always loved pitting his body against nature. He skied, he surfed, 
he rode and fished and hiked, but he did not enjoy the land for itself. Meg 
got no thrill out of conquering a ski run or tramping through the woods with 
a gun. It was the woods, the flowers and rocks and the way a stream twisted 
and turned its way across a meadow. Don Monleon was aware of these things as 
Paul had never been. 

There was a second effect of the walk, however. Swinging along, she began to 
feel her body glow, and the more it glowed, the more conscious she was of 
the mountain ... and the time. 

My God! How could she savor nature's artistic bounty, and at the same time 
be conniving to meet a small child with a juicy penis? She was developing 
into a fractured personality, and that was dangerous, she knew. 

"I shouldn't keep you out here," she said. "If you were awake all night and 
then drove up here this morning, you ought to be taking a nap." 

"How about you?" 

"I have to go into town," she said. "If I'm going out to dinner, I've got to 
get my hair done." 

His grin was instant. "Good for you. I'll tell you what. I'll take a shower 
and sack out...." 

"Bath. We don't have a shower." 

"Bath?" he asked with a glower. "They're unsanitary." 

"But soothing. I don't see you sticking your crazy people into a four-hour 
shower when they need to be calmed." 

Don chuckled. "Neither of us is crazy, though, Meg," he said. 

"I wish I could be sure of that," she said ruefully. Then she hurried on 
ahead. 

She was conscious of time every instant. It was five to two and they still 
couldn't see the cabin ... then four to two ... three to two. She had to 
reach the top of the mountain by two-thirty ... well, he'd probably wait a 
little while, but she was going to have to drive away in the car, find a 
place to park and then find some kind of trail to follow from the back side 
of the mountain. Just thinking about it made her cunt begin to bum. 

"There it is!" she exclaimed as she spotted the cabin. 

"Slow down," he laughed. "You can't be in that big of a hurry. Can you?" 

I can! I am! Damn, it's a minute until two! Hurry! Get in there and get 
those car keys. Got to go! Got to GO! I'll never make it at this rate! 

Nervously she laughed, her hands fluttering uselessly. "The walk has really 
done me good," she said. "Suddenly, I seem to be bursting with energy." 

"That's good, Meg." 

"Now, if I can get into town and get to looking as good as I feel...." she 
declared. 

Don studied her flushed cheeks and decided she was coming around 
beautifully. 

"Go!" he ordered playfully. As she turned to obey, he gave her fanny a 
playful slap. 

Darting into the cabin, Meg scooped up her purse, and began rifling around 
in the bottom of it for her key chain as she hurried for the door. 

"There are fresh towels in the bottom drawer of ttie dresser and soap in the 
cabinet above the sink," she called over her shoulder. 

"I'll find them," he said and laughed. "Hurry back." 

She'd have to worry about hurrying back, later. For now it was enough to get 
away. Climbing in behind the wheel, she slammed the door shut and started 
the car. In another second she was scooting out the drive. 

I really ought to go to town. I should forget what's happened and have an 
affair with Don. I could, I think, the way he looks at me. Everything I've 
done until now, I could lie out of, if I had to. If it came up, it would be 
my word against theirs and neither boy has that good of a background that he 
would be believed over me. This is my chance. All I have to do it stay away. 

Even as she argued with herself, she knew which way it would go. Her cunt 
burned with a fire that no man could put out. She had to get up there ... 
get up to that sweet, tender little nubbin of flesh. Her brain was fevered 
with anticipation as she pulled off on an old logging spur that at least 
headed toward the bottom of the mountain. To her delighted surprise, it not 
only went all the way to the base of the hill but even partway up the side. 
The path that led from there to the top of the ridge was wide and plainly 
marked. 

I'll make it! I'll be there on time. I just hope I made it good enough for 
him that he comes back for more. What if he couldn't get away? What if he 
got sent home for staying away from the camp overnight like that? What if 
they restricted him and watched over him to make sure he obeyed? 

These and a thousand other thoughts nagged at her brain, but not once did 
she berate herself for what she was about to do. Shame was not a part of 
this end of the cycle. For now, her brain was filled with a delicious, 
naughty anticipation. 

I wish I could take you home with me, Mike, she thought. I should never have 
left. If Danny ever comes back, you'd love him. His little cock is a little 
bigger than yours and his nuts are starting to get hair on them, but he'd 
teach you things you'd learn to love. I let him fuck me, Mike. Maybe I'll 
let you fuck me, too, if you want to. It's not so good as getting sucked 
because you're still pretty small to fit a grown woman's cunt, but I love 
doing it. I love doing anything with you. 

Meg didn't see the tender shoots of Indian pipe in the middle of the trail. 
She didn't see the sword fern or even the blue jay scolding her from the 
lower branches of a Pine. She saw only where to put her foot next. It was a 
steep trail. 

She was in such a hurry that she grew winded long before she reached the 
top. Though she was forced to slow down, she never even considered a 
moment's stop. 

It's twenty-seven minutes after two. I can't even tell how much further on 
this strange trail. Damn! 

There were occasional boulders now. That was a good sign. When she turned 
around she could see the entire valley below. She couldn't be far now. 

Will he be there? 

Oh God, will he be there? 

Her mouth was dry, but her tongue worked an imaginary cockhead anyway. Her 
hands were knotted as she forced one leg in front of the other, but her 
fingers fondled an imaginary foreskin, working it back and forth over the 
pretend cock. 

Then she came around a boulder and a split pine, and there it was up ahead. 
With her lungs near to bursting, she raced ahead. She had just reached the 
biggest boulder when she was stopped short by the sound of voices. Panic 
stricken, she pressed herself against the rock. 

"You think she'll come?" a youthful voice asked. 

"Sure," Mike answered. "She likes to make me feel good so she'll be here." 

"You think she'll do it for me, too? it the first voice, or another. Meg 
couldn't be sure. 

"Sure," Mike promised. "She just likes the feel of a kid. I don't guess it 
will matter which kid she feels." 

Meg was shaking all over, her cunt throbbing with desire as she walked 
around that rock. 

"Hello, Mike, I see you brought a...." 

She stopped short at the sight. There were at least ten of them. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

"Mike!" she gasped. 

"Hi!" he chirped back. "I brought some friends along. I hope you don't 
mind." 

This was followed by a chorus of "Hi's." 

"No ... I can't...." she stammered. 

"I told them you liked to make boys feel good. They all want to feel good, 
too." 

Meg was staggered. Numbly, she backed up against a rock and leaned against 
it. Her knees shook and her legs felt like jelly. Danny ... Mike ... now a 
dozen, nameless bepricked youths wanted her to contaminate them, too. 
Weakly, she stood there, wobbling precariously. Then she sank to the ground, 
too unstable to trust her legs any longer. Slowly, she shook her head. 

"I can't, Mike," she choked. "I'm sorry, but I can't do it, not to so many." 

She dropped her head, but there was a boy sitting there beside her. His 
hands were in his lap, working his pecker rhythmically. 

Oh no! 

He had his sweet thing out. His fingers were rubbing over it so lightly that 
he scarcely touched the flesh at all. As she watched, mesmerized, he worked 
the skin back and forth, back and forth, over his hardened, precious little 
prick. 

The boy looked up at her then and smiled, then took his hands away. His 
quivering cock lay fully exposed before her, inviting her touch. 

I can't fight this. It's impossible, she thought miserably, but why? My God, 
why? 

For several moments she stared, and the longer she stared, the less she 
cared about the number of boys witnessing her shame. Soon even the shame was 
past consideration; she didn't feel it or think of it. As though another, 
completely different personality had emerged, she returned his smile. She 
was relaxed now ... teasingly sensuous and sure. 

"You want me to touch it?" she asked. 

He nodded his head. 

"You were doing pretty good with it yourself. Tell me if I make it feel 
better." 

She reached over and brushed her fingers over it. 

The boy shuddered with excitement at her touch and his fleshy, pliant 
cockflesh shivered deliciously. 

"Ohhhhhh," he sighed. 

"You like that better?" 

"Ohhhh, yesssssss!" 

His penis was hard ... the size of half of a full-sized cigar. Just looking 
at it made Meg's mouth begin to water. It was incredibly tender to the 
touch, but she knew it would be even better to taste. 

Like Mike and Danny, he was uncircumcised. That must be a badge of the poor, 
she decided. Then I love the poor ... love the boy ... love his sweet, sweet 
cock. 

She pushed his foreskin back, doing it slow and easy to tease herself a 
little more. Watching that moist, precious head emerge was enough to stoke 
her smoldering cunt into a raging fire. It was so incredibly tender and 
ringed with flecks of headcheese. 

"Ohhhhhhh," groaned the boy. 

"Like it?" she taunted. 

"Please," he whimpered, "suck it before it blows." 

"It's" not going to blow for a good, long time yet, sweet," she promised 
him. "I won't let it blow." 

"I don't think you'll have too much to say about it, lady," he groaned. 
"I've been playing with it ever since lunch, when Mike first told us about 
you." 

"Poor baby," she sympathized. "Well, if I'm going to kiss it, I don't want 
to do it through that little bitty hole. Stretch out and let me unbutton 
your waistband. Then I'll nibble on down your tummy and suck that little old 
thing until it just gets so happy that it blows its brains out." 

"Ohhhhhhhhh," the boy groaned at her words. 

"Ahhhhhhh," his friends exclaimed. 

Their sympathy pains were intense. Every boy there was squirming and jerking 
around as they watched their friend stretch out beside the sexy lady. 

"What's your name, sweet?" she asked. 

"Lonny," he answered. 

"And do you have a name for this rigid, brave, little soldier here?" she 
asked, her fingers still fondling his treasure. She manipulated him so 
deftly that his shaking got out of hand and she had to quit. 

"Uh ... ahhh, ugh ... I call him Dick ... uh, most of the time," he 
admitted. "Please, can't you hurry a little, lady? I'm awful hot." 

"Never," she whispered. "I couldn't rush a thing like this any more than a 
connoisseur of good food could wolf down a plate of truffles. Oh, darling 
boy, hang on. I won't touch you for a while. Take deep breaths and let it 
cool. It's too precious to hurry ... too good to rush." 

"I'm next," someone called. 

"Bullshit!" 

"Ain't she going to take her clothes off so we can see her tits?" 

"Yeah! I want to get a look at her cunt. I'm big enough to plug into that 
mother!" 

"You going to fuck her?" 

"Why not?" 

"God, I'd rather get it sucked any day. Her cunny ain't got no tongue in 
it." 

"I hear they got muscles in there that are almost like teeth, though." 

On and on and on. Their chatter burned into Meg's brain, and the brain, in 
turn, produced vivid, erotic scenes. 

I wish I could pull off my clothes and feel them all against me at once, she 
thought. I can't ... I mustn't, but wouldn't it feel like heaven? Oh God! 

She shook herself back to reality for what was real was very good. Leaning 
down to inspect her work, she focused her attention on unhooking the rather 
complicated fastener at the boy's waist. When she was done, his pants spread 
open in a V pointing into his shivering penis. 

For the moment, she went no further, but left his pants where they were. It 
was more pleasant to nibble in and root around inside for a while first. 

A chorus of "ahhhhhhhhhhhs" rang in her ears as she bent over the shivering 
child. 

Oh, sweetmeat, I'm coming, she promised silently. 

Slowly, she bent over him, letting her lips brush against Lonny's belly. 
Immediately, he convulsed into a seizure of uncontrolled passion. 

"OHHHHHHHHHH!" he wailed. 

"Easy, lamb," she whispered and quickly pulled away. 

When he could breathe, she tried again. Her breath tickled over his flesh 
and her lips drove him insane as she moved down into his open fly. Though he 
shook violently, he held, breathing deeply to try to make it last. 

"Do it, lady," he whimpered. "Do it!" 

She was getting there. He could feel her cheek against his cock and her lips 
were working almost against his root. Each time she pulled away, he groaned, 
but he was better able to control himself with every delay. 

He could feel the wetness of her open-mouthed caress, and then her tongue 
began trailing saliva over his burning flesh. By the time it curled around 
the base of his cock and slowly began to work its way up his shaft, Lonny 
was able to take the excitement and even hang on as he waited for morts, he 
hung on for all he was worth. 

The Little-Boy Lover 

"Oh, Jesus damn! Oh, hell! Oh, shit! Oh, you mother ... you lovely, sucking 
cunt! Do it! Do it!" 

There was shaky laughter and a few groans from the others. They could see 
her lips working over one side of his flesh and her tongue curled clear 
around to brace herself on the other. In this manner, she worked her way up 
to the head. 

He was jabbing a little now. When she twisted around and engulfed his length 
in her mouth, he let out a cry. 

"EYIIIIIIIIII!" 

Quickly, she pulled away, careful to keep from touching him at all. 

"You all right?" 

For a little while he was shaking too hard to answer. Then he looked up at 
her with a piteous stare. 

"I ... I don't know," he whimpered. "I can't stand it much longer, lady. 
Please, make me blow." 

"Just a little longer," she begged. "Here, let me pull your pants down so I 
can cuddle those sweet balls. I haven't even seen them yet. Oh, how 
precious. Oh, I could just eat them up, Lonny. Do you want me to eat them 
up? I'll be careful not to touch your cock." 

"Nooooooo!" he wailed. 

"Suck him!" 

"Yeah, he's asking for it! Give it to him." 

"Gad, we're all going to pop off just waiting!" 

"Fuck off, Lonny! Give the rest of us a chance!" 

She leaned down to suck in his balls. Then, as though she had squeezed it up 
from the bag, his jazz began to shoot. The first volley went a mile, but she 
caught the second, and his throbbing prick was engulfed by the third. She 
sucked his fourth and fifth and on and on to the end when the well was dry 
and there was nothing more that he could give. Then she took a deep breath 
and pulled away. "I'm next!" 

"The hell you say. I'm the one that told you guys about her. I should've 
been first." 

"Screw you! You got yourself sucked off yesterday. She's going to suck me 
before she messes with you." 

"You motherfucker, I'll...." They all began pushing and shoving with that, 
yet most of them used their shoulders for they were unzipping their flies 
and bringing out their ready staffs at the same time, Meg stared at them in 
awe, unable to fathom the wondrous variety of succulent young genital flesh 
flapping there in the breeze. Instantly, she hungered for them all. How 
could she have forced the child to hang on for so long when she had all that 
cockflesh left to suck. 

"Please! Don't fight," she begged. "Bring it here! Come to me!" 

As if to prove that she could accommodate them all, she struggled to pull 
off her clothes, fumbling desperately to unbutton and remove her blouse. She 
got no further than opening the front up before the first boy grabbed her. 

Reaching into her brassiere, he pulled out one huge tit. He groaned at the 
sight of the wide areola of puffy flesh that surrounded her giant olive of a 
nipple. Immediately he began to suck, kneading the breast flesh 
compulsively, and he snuggled down beside her. 

Seeing this, another boy left the milling, shoving back to squat down beside 
Meg's thigh. Pulling up her skirts, he looked at her panties. They were 
bikinis made of a gauzy film of lace. The crease of her cuntlips was plain 
as day. He ran his finger down it, outlining the two puffy ridges as well as 
her crease. Pulling one pant-leg open, he stared straight into her cunt. 

He glanced back at the other boys, seemingly afraid that they might soon try 
to steal his prize. Then he pushed Meg's legs apart and climbed between 
them, unwilling to waste even the time to get her undressed. 

He was a small boy, but his prod was the largest of them all. It jutted out 
from his open fly a healthy six inches or so. When he tried to poke it at 
her, he realized that it was too constricted. Nervously, he skinned his 
pants down below his ass. Now, he could take his cock in hand, pull back her 
pant-leg, and ram his prick into her wet, smoldering cunt. 

He could see her hole and he headed directly for it, groaning as his 
prickhead split into her smoldering flesh. 

"Ahhhhhhh!" came Meg's muffled sigh as she jerked her thighs up to meet him. 

It was heaven, but there was so much to feel in so many places that she 
could not dwell on what he was doing to her for long. She had herself a born 
tit-sucker, and she reveled in babying him along. She'd found him playing 
with himself after a time and pushed his hands away. Now, with her hand 
inside of his pants, she rolled his balls and snuggled his cock as she 
whispered erotic encouragement for him to suck on. 

"Suck it, boy," she said warmly. "Oh God, you've got such a sweet little 
prick, honey. You suck Mama a while and then Mama'll suck you." 

"Suck mine while you wait," another boy begged. "Look! Look at mine!" 

"Ohhh yes! Give it to me," she said. "It's absolutely beautiful! Oh God yes 
... hurry!" Whoever the young stud was that was fucking her, he was doing it 
with enthusiasm. He slapped at her belly, prodded her cunt, and frictioned 
both sides of her inner thighs ... all with the same frenzied thrusts. 

If only he wasn't in such a hurry, she thought. Ream me out, baby ... do it 
slow ... and when you get it deep inside, don't jerk it out so fast. Let me 
feel! Let me feel it in there ... deep ... and throbbing ... and hot! Slow 
... hard...! Screw it in, honey! Screw it in! 

The fighting was over. They were all too hot and they'd seen how they'd 
missed out by turning their attention away. Now they formed a circle to 
watch and to root their buddies on. 

"Ball her, Brad!" 

"Fuck her good!" 

"Hey, he really is fucking her, ain't he?" 

"And her with her pants still on!" 

"What's he doing, straining it? Or did he poke a hole in her britches?" 

"Neither, dumb-head. Can't you see he's got it pulled out of the way. Man, 
I'm going to get them off when it's my turn. I'm going to fuck her, too." 

"I thought you wanted it sucked! " 

"I'll take it both ways if she don't get worn out. This old cunt can take 
whatever we give her, I'll bet." 

"Look at her tits. God, they're big mothers." 

"There goes Ron. Hell, she sucked him off in two minutes flat. She must be 
something." 

"That's what he gets for playing marbles all day." 

"Bullshit! I haven't played with myself at all and I'm so hot I'd fuck off 
if I sneezed just once!" 

"Me, too. God, I just got to be next." 

As soon as Ron got his tail drained, another moved in to take his place. Meg 
welcomed him eagerly, but in her own way. 

"Honey pot, get your little fanny around here. I want to tickle your asshole 
for a minute." 

"Gawd!" groaned the boy. 

Twisting around, he squatted gingerly as he straddled her face. Her hand 
came up to prime his already well-primed pump as her face burrowed up into 
his sweaty crease. When she found it, she began to lick. She wetted it and 
worked it like it was tasty candy. When it was thoroughly relaxed, she 
forced her tongue on through. Heatedly, she stabbed into him. 

"Would you look at her kissing Jim's ass? Jeez!" 

"She ain't kissing it, man. Look at her throat. She's stabbing that old 
tongue of hers right on in his shit-hole!" 

"I'd sure hate to kiss her now, huh?" 

A strained titter shivered through those that watched. Then their attention 
was drawn to the boy slamming himself against her cunt. Brad's small body 
stiffened and he arced into a rigid bow, his limbs jerking spasmodically. 

"I'm cummmmmmmmming! " he wailed. 

Meg felt his cock give a jerk, deep in her cunt. Then his jazz began to 
pour. The flood of his liquid fire triggered her own release. Her passion 
exploded. It ripped through her body and brain, flooding over in a burning 
wash of excitement. 

"EYIIIIIIIIIII!" she cried. 

She was there ... and yet she wasn't, for when it was gone, she was not 
free. The fever had subsided enough that she no longer wished to mouth a 
boyish ass, but her needs were still making definite, feverish demands. With 
a final shudder, she reached for the boy's pecker and pulled it toward her 
mouth. 

"Come to Mama," she rasped. 

"Unnnh!" groaned the boy. In her excitement, she was trying to pull in a 
prick that was pointed in the exact opposite direction. Struggling against 
her, he pushed her away long enough to change positions. Then, on all fours, 
he lowered his precious cock to her hungry lips. 

"Shit, man, you didn't even pull off her pants," someone complained. "How 
the hell am I supposed to fuck her with her pants still on?" 

"That's your problem," came the tired reply. "I've got to take a piss." 

Meg could feel hands fumbling with her pants. She raised her ass up, 
straining to help, and after a time he had them free. It felt good to have a 
warm little boy snuggling in against her. His cock wasn't big enough to, 
bless him, he gave it hell trying. 

And the boy on her tit continued to suck. 

"Ain't he ever going to give the rest of us a chance with them knockers? I 
got to try that myself." 

"Hah! That's all you're old enough for, Peewee." 

"You ain't exactly a stud yet, yourself," came the immediate reply. 

Several laughed, but most were too strained for anything but a haunted 
stare. 

"Do it, lady!" cried the boy with his prick in Meg's siphoning mouth. "Ohhhh 
damn, I'm so fucking hot!" Feverishly, he worked his cock in and out of her 
lips. 

"Play with me," whimpered the boy at Meg's breast. In her excitement, she 
had forgotten him completely. 

And the boy between her legs stabbed his small pole into her cunt with 
rapid, flurried drives. 

"I'm gonna cum. I am! I'm CUMMMMMMING!" someone cried. 

"Well, do it and get the hell out of the way!" 

"Fuck you!" 

"I'm getting hot enough to fuck your ass if I have to wait much longer!" 

Meg didn't care. They were rubbing her, sucking her, stabbing hot little 
pricks at her. When any one of the three moved away to make room for others, 
she felt a terrible loss until another cock or another body came to take its 
place. 

And everywhere ... cum. Slippery, sticky cum, the sensual sugar of lust. It 
was nectar ... ambrosia ... feast of the Gods and she couldn't get enough of 
it. With it came power. With it came more lust and more greed for the small, 
tender cocks that could produce it. And then, there was something else.... 

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" she moaned, writhing with excitement. 

Something was different ... wonderful! For a moment, she was too dazed to 
know what that difference was. Then it came to her in a flash. 

"My God! " she gasped. 

Pushing the boys away, she raised up to see, There between her legs a 
youngster was crouched, pushing his face into her crotch. He was greedily 
sucking up all of that mixed boy-cum! 

"Ohhhhhhhhh!" she groaned. "Ohhhh! Ohhhhh damn!" 

Falling back on the grass, she spread out her legs, straining to open them 
wide. She rolled up her open snatch, sinuously lifting herself to meet his 
hot-mouthed caress. 

"Oh, heaven, heaven," she groaned, arching up her tits and molding them with 
her own hands. "Oh God, that's beautiful. Oh, damn but that's so good!" 

"There's her tits. Wow!" 

"Yeah, I wish I could screw them! " 

"Me, too. Hey, she ain't sucking nobody. I'm next. " 

"Hurry up. I'm ready to go again." 

"Again?" 

"Yeah," came the sheepish reply. "I boxed it off ... had to. See her belly? 
I squirted it at her. If I don't get a turn pretty soon, I'm going to piss 
on her, too!" 

"Ahhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Gary, it's worth waiting for. Oh, God, what a mother!" 

Several of the boys had given up. Dropping to the grass beside Meg, they 
began sucking on each other. She could feel their little asses burrowing in 
against her, but by now they were lost in their own private hell. It didn't 
matter. She could feel them against her, flesh on flesh. She held the boy's 
head in her hand ... the boy who sucked her can, and never had she felt such 
excitement as she did right now. She continued sucking off one boy after the 
other but her own lust, her own sense of excitement had moved back into her 
cunt. 

Don't ever stop, you darling, she thought. Somehow, I'm going to get a night 
with you ... just you. Maybe more than a night. Maybe I can see you every 
week ... every night. Oh God, what you do to me. I'll make it so good for 
you, you'll never look anywhere else for your loving! 

She ran her fingers through his hair and grazed her fingers over his 
youthful features. His tongue was stabbing deep into her cunt now, and he 
handled the task like an old pro. 

What does my love look like? she wondered. Who cares? With a tongue and a 
mouth like that, who cares? 

"How can he do that? It turns my stomach just to look," said a voice with an 
obvious shudder. 

"I don't know, but I wish he'd clear out and let someone fuck her. I 
wouldn't want my mouth in it, but I'm not past dipping my cock in if I get 
the chance." 

"There goes Gary. Get up there next to him so when she gets him sucked dry, 
you can move on in." 

"AHHHHHHHHHH SHHHHHHHHHIT!" cried Gary. 

"Grab her tit." 

"Who wants her tit? I want her cunt if Mike will ever get out of the way. 
Move, Mike ... let a man in there." 

"Leave him alone!" hissed Meg, and though her voice was quiet, it was lethal 
sounding as hell. 

So it was Mike, she thought. He'd come a long way since yesterday. 

There was someone rubbing his cock around in her hair. She reached up and 
stroked her fingers over it once and felt it explode. A part of her hair was 
matted with cum. Meg forgot him. She was too hot now to think of anything 
but the prick in her mouth and the mouth in her steaming cunt. There were 
boys squeezing her breasts and straining to get a nipple into their mouths. 
There were boys against her on either side and one miserable lad who was 
teasing his pecker between her toes. 

Then, several minutes later, when she was on the verge of exploding, her 
attention was brought back to the pecker still pressed into her hair. She 
felt a hot burst of liquid squirt over her, and then she realized he was 
taking a piss ... in her hair. 

For a moment, it dulled her excitement, and she was on the verge of getting 
mad. Then, when it went on and on, and the hot steaming liquid poured down 
her cheeks and neck and onto her shoulders and breasts ... then it wasn't 
awful. It was exciting. She could smell the stench and feel the steam. 
Suddenly, she wanted to feel it all over her. As Mike's tongue latched onto 
her clit, rubbing her throbbing love-button into a frenzy of excitement, she 
pulled her mouth from whoever's prick she was siphoning and cried out for 
them to drown her in their piss. 

"Piss on me," she begged, "all of you. Oh, Mike! Suck it out! Make me 
cummmmm!" 

Those who were spent hastened to arc their stream of urine over her. The 
idea excited some of them so much that they hardened up and couldn't get it 
to come. Once it started, however, they were all over her. 

"Don't mess her up, you guys!" one of them pleaded. "I wanted a second 
chance. Who's going to want to screw around with her after this?" 

"Dummy. It's already quarter to four. We can't screw around anymore anyway! 
Hurry up, Mike! Shit! You going to eat it all?" 

You can't leave me now! she thought frantically. I'm so close ... so close! 

"Don't go, Mike!" she begged. "Here, get around here. Let me suck you while 
you're sucking me. Ahhhhhh." 

She got him twisted around and quickly sucked him in. While the other boys 
zipped up and hurried away, Meg held the boy back, loving his sweet pecker 
with her ever-hungry lips. He couldn't fight it. It felt far, far too good. 

It didn't last for long, for the boy had been on the verge for half an hour 
or more. When it came, his small body jerked and jumped for joy. 

"EYIIIIIIIII! " he roared. 

"Ohhhhhdamnitalltohell! Ohhhhhhhsonofabitch! Ohhhhhhhchristalmighty! " 

She couldn't hold him after that. He jumped up, zipped his fly, and made a 
terrible face. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and 
began wiping his face and spitting as though he'd just noticed he'd had his 
face buried in her cunt. 

"I ain't bringing any of those guys tomorrow," he announced. "It ain't no 
fun having to wait around while you suck the rest of them ... and I didn't 
like getting pissed on, either." 

Meg said nothing. With her hand pressed deep between her legs, her feverish 
brain was focused on her sorely-needed relief. Furiously, she sawed the hand 
in against herself. 

"Will you be coming here tomorrow or should I come to your cabin?" asked the 
boy. 

"I don't know," she sobbed. "I can't think. Just get the hell out of here, 
will you? Leave me alone." 

"I'm sorry you didn't make it." 

"... Please!" 

"You'll be all right?" 

"Of course not," she moaned. "I'll never be right again!" 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

It was after dark before Meg moved anything but her compulsively sawing 
hand. Only the cold forced her back to reality. As she drug herself out of 
her lewd cloud of misery and started down the mountain, she was numb-numb in 
body and in mind. She couldn't begin to comprehend the enormity of what she 
had done. 

She hurt all over, and she stunk. She was sick to her stomach and had a 
headache that wouldn't let her bend over, even an inch, yet before she was 
halfway to the car, she had to bend over to retch. It was some time before 
she was able to go on. Later, Meg was able to recall nothing of that 
downward journey or of the short drive that followed. She remembered only 
that she pulled up in front of the house and laid her head on the horn. 

Don Monleon had just decided to go out looking for her. He was putting on 
his overcoat when he heard the car. Having cursed himself for sleeping so 
long, he was greatly relieved until the hum of the engine was drowned out by 
the screech of brakes and the horn. Something was obviously wrong. 

His first thought when he opened the car door and smelled of her was rape. 

"Meg! Wake up! Here, let me move you over. I'd better get you into the 
hospital." 

"NO!" 

The terror in her eyes stopped him. Quickly, he gathered her into his arms 
and carried her into the cabin. He laid her on the bed. 

"Let me see how bad it is," he said. "Perhaps we can take care of it here." 

He lifted her skirt. Her pants were gone. Deftly he spread her legs and 
opened up her vaginal lips. She was badly bruised but there was no sign of 
any bleeding. When he sat down beside her and smiled at her, however, she 
couldn't look at him. Closing her eyes, she turned her head away. 

"Meg, I don't want to leave you," he said, "but someone should go for the 
police. There still may be time to...." 

"No," she whispered. "Please don't tell them." 

"You can't let them get away with this," he argued. "Meg, a man that rapes a 
woman and doesn't get...." 

She turned to face him then and her eyes were wide and blank. 

"Don," she said in a voice that was warmed over death, "I wasn't raped. If 
you call the police, it's me they'll have to take away." 

He didn't understand. Frowning, he stared at her, and she had to turn from 
the concern and sympathy she saw in his eyes. 

"Don, I'm not like I was a year ago," she said. "I'm not even like I was a 
month ago. I'm not worth worrying about anymore." 

"Suppose you let me be the judge of that," he suggested. 

She shook her head. "I can't. I can't talk about it. Not to you ... not to 
anybody." 

"Meg, you can't shock me, you know," he said. Her eyes flashed with light 
for the first time. Then the spark was gone and she stared at him dully. The 
doctor in Don Monleon caught that moment and plotted its meaning. Shifting 
his attack, he got up and went into the bathroom where he started water 
running in the tub. When he returned, he undressed her, finding himself in 
agreement with Dr. Brian's estimate of her body. (He'd called her one hell 
of a lot of woman, Don remembered.) One of the minus factors in being a 
psychiatrist was that you couldn't order beautiful women to strip. This one, 
in particular, had titillated his imagination from the beginning. 

"For the moment, we'll concentrate on patching you up," he said, "starting 
with a bath." 

The skirt and blouse came off easily, but when he lifted away the brassiere 
it took all the strength he had not to run his hands over her marvelous 
breasts. With herculean restraint, he picked her up and carried her into the 
tub. 

Balancing her precariously, he tested the water then settled her carefully 
into the tub. 

"It's hot," she complained. 

"Yes. Good for aches and bruises." 

And tears. After hours of feeling dead inside, her eyes hollow and dry, the 
tears finally began to flow. They gushed. Don did not try to comfort her or 
to interfere. Picking up the soap and a washcloth, he began working on her 
instead. Almost as soon as he began, he realized that he still had his 
jacket on, ready to go out in search of her. Shrugging out of it, he pulled 
off his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Then he went back to work. 

Whenever her sobbing slowed down enough for her to hear, he talked to her 
... never questioning or giving her any chance to speak. He talked about all 
that she had been through ... about what a strain she had been under this 
last year ... about her basic, beautiful self, as he saw it. 

"Anything you could have done had to be a reaction to that strain," he 
stressed, "and, Meg, the only way you're going to get control of it is to 
bring it out into the open where we can look at it." The first couple of 
times he said this, she exploded into another hysterical outburst. He let 
her cry. He washed her neck and shoulders and then steeled himself to reach 
for her breasts. 

"You're beautiful, Meg," he whispered. "Any man would be glad to make love 
to you ... any way you want it." 

Hysterics again. Damn! he thought. What did I say wrong this time? You're 
beautiful ... that couldn't have upset her. Any man would be glad to make 
love to you ... nothing wrong there unless it's a beast ... no, not in her 
hair. Only a man would fuck off in her hair. Anyway you want it ... either 
she's got a really off-beat hang-up or a herd instinct. There was too much 
done to her for one man to have done it all ... unless he could jack off a 
hundred times in an afternoon. Yes, that was probably it. 

"There are outlets for almost any drive these days, Meg," he said. "Swingers 
get together and either trade or orgy all the time without harming anything. 
If you...." 

She was shaking her head. He'd guessed wrong. "Have you ever read an 
underground newspaper ... or one of the swap magazines? They advertise for 
all sorts of things. Love me, love my dog ... girls only ... leather ... 
bondage ... degradation. Ah ... Meg, degradation is really an attempt to 
punish yourself for wanting sex in the first place. Tell me, Meg. Please." 

She just kept shaking her head for a long moment before she tried to speak. 
When the words did come, he could scarcely hear them at all. 

"See?" she whispered. "You can't even guess, it's so bad. I never dreamed of 
it myself until it happened." 

"You didn't want it at first?" he asked incredulously. 

Sadly, she shook her head. "I never even thought of it. One night ... could 
it have been only two weeks ago? Maybe three. It seems like a million 
years." 

"What happened, Meg?" 

She shrugged, helpless to understand it. Then she pinched her lips together 
to keep from crying. A deep breath ... a sigh, and she was ready to try. 

"I'd just taken a bath ... was getting ready for bed ... heard a noise. 
There was no one else around to check on things. With Paul gone it was up to 
me...." 

Her words trailed off as she remembered it. "Yes," Don urged. "What did you 
do?" 

"Oh, I went into the kitchen. The noise was coming from the garage. I opened 
the door and peeked out...." 

"Yes?" 

"It was two little boys being nasty with each other," came the faint 
whisper. "When they heard me, the youngest broke free and ran. He'd been 
struggling to free himself when I looked out. Danny told me later that he 
attacked other children when he ... needed it very badly." 

"What did you do?" 

"I rushed out and ordered him to pull up his pants. He just stood there 
whimpering and begging." 

"Begging for what?" 

"He just kept saying 'please' at first. I decided that he must be in shock 
with me scaring and screaming like that, so I reached down to pull his pants 
up for him. That's when he pushed his little penis at me and begged me to 
finish him off." 

"Did you, Meg?" 

"Not then ... but I couldn't move. So help me God, Don, I was paralyzed. He 
pushed it against my cheek and began rubbing it around. Then he moved it 
over and ran the tip of it around my lips. Then he poked it inside, and I've 
been in hell ever since!" 

"In what way, Meg? Is this boy here in the mountains? Did you go to him?" 

"Noooooo!" she wailed, and then the tears flooded in again. She was far too 
distraught to talk anymore. 

Carefully, Don finished washing her as he mulled her problem over in his 
brain. The causes and catalysts were obvious, but any immediate solution 
evaded him. 

"Be calm, Meg," he soothed. "We can lick this thing. It seems terrible to 
you now, but you'll come to understand it eventually. Trust me, Meg." 

"Don't pretend I haven't shocked you!" she hissed. "Nothing could be more 
vile ... more evil than what I've done!" 

He tried to smile as he shook his head. "Nothing could be more dangerous if 
you let it persist, but I doubt that it's as bad as you think it is." 

"You don't know what I've done!" 

"I've a pretty good idea," he countered. "After all, Meg, I'm the one that 
pulled you out of the car this evening. My nose and eyes told me most of it. 
For God's sake, quit thinking you're the only person in the world with a 
problem!" 

It wasn't very professional, but it did the job. She stared at him 
incredulously. 

"That's all you have to say about a woman that seduces children?" she 
demanded. 

"Until I hear the rest of the story ... yes." 

She took a deep breath, watching as he pulled the plug. 

"Stay there," he ordered. "I'm going to give you a douche. Where is...?" 

"No!" 

"Oh, come off it, Meg. Where's the douche bag?" 

Weakly, she waved toward the drawer. He was all efficiency now, and he let 
her see that he was impatient as well. 

"Whether you confide in me or not is your own damn business," he said, "but 
a pregnancy ... or the kind of infections common to mass sex are 
side-effects we don't need." 

"I want to tell you, Don," she told him. "It's just that it's so hard to 
talk about it. I'm so ashamed." 

"Would you be ashamed if you came down with tuberculosis or cancer?" 

"Of course not." 

"Mental illnesses are just as real as physical ones, Meg," he said. "Quite 
frankly, I don't think you're even that." 

"How do you mean?" 

"Supposing you tell me the rest first," he suggested. "Then I'll be able to 
tell you more." 

She nodded, then closed her eyes. "I did what the boy asked. I did it with 
my mouth, and when it was done, I was burning up! I screamed at him to get 
out of there, but he knew I hadn't made it. He told me that he'd never 
fucked a woman and promised that he could get it back up in a few minutes if 
I'd just take him into my bedroom and suck him a little more. I was so hot! 
Oh God!" 

"Did he give you relief?" 

"Oh yes! Well, no ... I was relaxed for the first time in a year, actually. 
I've never been able to give myself any appreciable release. Anyway, the 
moment he was gone I went into hysterics, and the next several days were a 
nightmare. Every night I locked every door and window for fear he'd come 
back. Once I took a cab to your office, sat there a while, and drove away. I 
just couldn't come in. You see, it wasn't just the shame. I began having 
this other thing. I'd walk down the street staring at every little boy's 
crotch. When I'd see a big bulge and tight pants, I'd freeze. I'd just stand 
there gaping until they walked away, and my knees would be shaking when it 
was over." 

"How old was he?" 

"Twelve I think, but he was awfully big for his age ... there. The rest of 
him was even undersize I'd imagine." 

"Did you ever see him again?" 

"That's what I'm coming to. The other night I had the girls over for bridge. 
I haven't been able to sleep since all this started and I thought it would 
help. About eleven they left, and I went in and took my bath. I remember I 
was going to read until I got to worrying over whether I'd locked up. I 
found two doors locked and one still unlatched. After I locked it, I took a 
sleeping pill and went to bed. It was fifteen or twenty minutes later that 
Danny crawled in beside me." 

"He waited for you to go to sleep?" Don asked. 

"Yes, I'd told him never to come back. I'd told him I wouldn't let him near 
me again. I guess he figured it was safer this way. He said he'd counted on 
me sleeping until I was good and hot." 

"What happened?" 

"I was shocked, of course, but it was nothing like the first time. In a few 
minutes I was ready to do anything he asked of me. We had sex for hours and 
hours ... it must have been dawn before he left. Then came the horrible 
part. Where it had been far easier to give in, it was far harder to go 
through the shame that followed. I'd cry so hard that I was sure I had lost 
my mind. It went on and on, and there just didn't seem to be any end to it." 
Don had stirred up some kind of witch's brew. When all of the water was 
drained from the tub, he gently pushed her legs apart and inserted the 
nozzle. It was stupid to feel embarrassed over something like this sifter 
the terrible things she'd discussed, but she felt miserably vulnerable 
laying there all wet in an empty bathtub with a rubber tube coming out of 
her cunt. Then the warm water began to flow ... even sting a little. She 
forgot everything else. 

When it was done he helped her up and carefully toweled her dry. Then he 
carried her in and laid her on the bed. 

"Where's your gown?" he asked. 

She smiled. "In the drawer," she told him, pointing to the bureau. 

As sure as he was with her, he was mannishly clumsy going through her 
lingerie. 

"The yellow," she suggested, choosing it mainly because it was different 
enough in color from everything else that he couldn't make a mistake. 

"That's why I came up here," she explained as he helped her into her gown. 
"After Danny left the second time I realized that if I didn't leave I'd be 
asking for it the next time. It was obvious that he'd never stay away so 
long as I was there and available. I thought of the cabin that afternoon, 
and I began packing immediately. I was out of the house in little over an 
hour. I really thought I could get over this sickness on my own when I left. 
Boy! How stupid can one woman be?" 

"It showed a healthy optimism, Meg, as well as determination. You didn't 
just sit. You tried to work things out. So far, I can't see a thing wrong 
with you." 

"Oh, Don! My God!" 

"Look at it this way. We all have our weaknesses. I look at you and you turn 
me on." 

"But that's the point! You're strong enough to resist." 

He counted on her to think of it. Now he had her boxed in. With a grin he 
leaned over and planted an affectionate, if fatherly, kiss on her forehead. 

"I didn't have it shoved at me, either, did I?" he asked. "Now tell me what 
happened up here." 

She blinked back the tears. "At first, everything seemed so clean and good. 
I was sick when I saw that that camp had gone in next door but I was 
determined not to dwell on it." 

"I hadn't noticed a camp," he interrupted. 

"A boy's camp ... right next door," she explained. "Oh, maybe it's half a 
mile through the pines ... that way, but there hadn't been anything here 
before and now ... when I really needed to get away from things, the very 
thing I wanted to get away from had planted itself on my doorstep. 

"I couldn't get it off my mind. I was afraid to take a hike because I didn't 
know exactly where it was and the road could have wound all the way around 
our place for all I knew. Finally I decided to drive over there and find out 
for myself. At the time I thought it was the only logical thing to do." 

"What did you find?" 

"A pond full of naked boys and naked instructors and ... and everything I 
didn't need ... or want to see. They even told me to get out!" 

"What did you do?" 

"I left. Give me a cigarette, will you? I'm getting shaky again." 

She said nothing more until she had taken the first long drag. 

"Thanks. Where was I? Oh yes, well after the trip to the camp it was more 
nightmares and more hell. I finally got myself pulled together ... each time 
it takes longer. Anyway, I hadn't slept in a couple of nights so I decided 
to eat, take a long hike, and then soak in the bathtub. If that wouldn't put 
me to sleep ... along with a sleeping pill, then there was no hope. 

"I did just that. I ate a good lunch and I hiked clear to the top of that 
mountain. That's where I met him, right at the top. This little boy ... even 
younger than Danny ... had run away from the camp and was hiding onshould 
have taken off running like a jack rabbit, but I didn't." 

"What did you do?" 

"Talked ... and when he squatted down facing me ... with his little bulge 
staring me in the face, I reached over and began to massage it. I just 
couldn't help myself, Don." 

He nodded that he understood. Whatever he felt, he showed no sign of 
disgust. 

"He didn't object, I suppose." 

"No, he liked it," she admitted. "Before I could stop myself I had his sweet 
little cock out of his pants and was busy sucking him off. Disgusting, isn't 
it?" 

"I imagine it is to you," he agreed. 

"I was going through my little hell again when you came ... I'd been at it 
all night, in fact." 

"Did you agree to meet with him this afternoon then?" Don asked. 

Meg closed her eyes and squeezed back the tears. "Yes," she whispered. "Don, 
I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." 

"I didn't think about it at all until we started walking. I was enjoying it 
so much and then ... my legs working together ... something ... I don't 
know." 

"He wasn't alone, was he?" 

"How did you know?" 

He shrugged. "One little boy couldn't have gotten you into that kind of 
shape," he said. 

"There were ten or twelve. I didn't count. Seeing them there made me sick 
... kind of dizzy. You know? I leaned against a rock and then I sat down ... 
and there was that little boy sitting beside me. He was playing with 
himself. Watching the way his fingers worked over his rigid little prod made 
the sickness wash over me. Then he grinned at me and took his hands away, 
and I was touching him. Touching! If that was only all I did! Oh God!" 

Now he soothed her. Now he kissed away her tears and worked to calm her 
tortured fear. 

"Easy, Meg," he whispered. "It's all over. You've got it out in the open 
where we can fight it. Believe me, Meg. That's the worst part of the 
battle." 

"I'm so ashamed," she sobbed. 

"Of what? Of having a normal sex drive that's been thwarted for too long? 
It's no shame to be a warm, giving woman, and that is what you are, Meg. 
That's all you are." 

"I'm not sick in the head?" 

"Definitely not! All you need to get these boys out of your system is a 
man." He said it with a grin. "If you weren't so bunged up, I'd offer to 
demonstrate," he added. 

Wistfully, she sighed. "I wish it were true. Lord, how I wish it, but when I 
think of a small, tender...." 

"Then don't think of it," Don ordered. "Once you've had a man again. Once 
you get sex every night and half the mornings, you'll get so you're saying, 
'Not tonight, dear. I have a headache,'just like any other woman. Little 
boys seem extra erotic only because they're forbidden fruit and you've 
forbidden yourself to enjoy any sexual outlet for over a year. You dam that 
stuff up, Meg, and it's got to come out somewhere." 

He ran his fingers through Meg's hair as he talked. Soon she was too relaxed 
to want anything but sleep. 

"You rest," he ordered her, "because the first thing tomorrow morning, we're 
going back to the city." 

"Ohh?" she asked languorously. "Why?" 

"If we stay here they'll be back, and there's enough of them to cause 
serious trouble." 

"Whatever you say, Don," she purred. 

"I'm going to stay with you for a few days until we see if this Danny 
character is going to bother you anymore. Once we take care of that, you 
should have no more trouble." 

It was nice to have someone else worry for her. For once she would get some 
sleep. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Meg couldn't know all of the worries Don was carrying for her. A half hour 
after she fell asleep, one of the instructors from the boy's camp dropped by 
to investigate some rumors that were running rampant through the camp. Was 
there a woman living here? he asked. The doctor assured him that there was, 
but added that she was ill and confined to her bed. 

"I'm her doctor," he told the young man. "I dropped in to see how she was 
yesterday morning and I've been trying to get her well enough to move ever 
since. Couldn't very well leave her alone. I'm driving her back to the city 
first thing in the morning." 

"Thank God," the man answered with a nervous laugh. "You wouldn't believe 
the nonsense these kids have come up with. They're slum kids, you know, and 
I guess the mountain air was just too tame for them. Look, I'm sorry I 
bothered you ... I, uh, hate to ask, but could you describe her?" 

"Certainly, but then all of you have seen her, I'm sure," Don answered. 

"No ... I don't think so." 

"When she first took sick, she went to find a phone, trying to call me. She 
drove into your place ... told me the camp was full of kids swimming without 
their clothes on ... even the lifeguards. She said she was so shocked that 
she didn't even ask about the phone ... started on to town and then felt so 
bad she went back to the cabin to bed." 

"I'm sorry," the director said. "I think I did hear about that. Then that's 
where the boys saw her, obviously. Some of these kids can come off the wall 
with the damdest things. Sorry I bothered you." 

"That's perfectly all right. I was lonesome and kind of bored anyway. I'd 
offer you a drink, but she doesn't keep anything in the house. Want some 
coffee?" 

"Thanks ... no. I've got to get back." 

Don was satisfied that he'd solved that problem as he watched the young man 
climb into the panel wagon and drive away. It sure as hell wouldn't help Meg 
to put her in jail, and nothing he could do would erase the time she'd 
already spent with those boys. He wasn't worried over the incident marring 
the boys' minds anyway. In all probability that would remember it as the 
high point of their sex lives. 

He lay awake much of the night, however, worrying about Meg. Sacked out on 
the divan when he wanted to be snuggled against her in bed, he wondered how 
long it would be before he'd get her straightened out enough to be ready for 
what he had to give. 

Don had wanted the woman from the moment he first saw her, but the more he 
talked with her and came to know her, the more he wanted it to be something 
lasting. Meg had a lot of qualities that were rare in a woman. Her sexual 
capacity had certainly never been a handicap until the death of her first 
husband, and he felt certain it would again be an asset in a second 
marriage. It was only now when she was alone that it worked against her. 

Meg had a good sense of moral values and a feeling of her own worth that he 
admired, but it was these very qualities that now worked against her sexual 
needs to produce mayhem. She couldn't walk into a bar and pick up a man for 
one night. For a year she'd denied her body's physical demands until the 
opportunity and vehicle were thrust at her. Only then did her defenses 
crumble. 

Don couldn't minimize Meg's problem for it was very real, but he could and 
did understand the cause of it. Curiously her confession drew him to her 
until his attraction for her was even stronger than before. She'd been 
somewhat self-sufficient as a patient, too proud to take help from anyone. 
Now she was defenseless and vulnerable ... and it was appealing. This thing 
that had caused it ... well, he just wasn't going to think about it, he 
decided ... so he thought about it all night long. The sun was up when he 
finally fell asleep. 

Meg slept well for the first time in weeks. She didn't wake up, in fact, 
until afternoon, and then she found Don still asleep on the couch. She 
dreaded having to face him. Keeping as quiet as possible, she made coffee. 
Before she could start breakfast, the smell from the percolator had him 
awake. 

"You're beautiful over a hot stove," he said. 

"Shows how much you know," she snorted. "That's the stove. This is the 
sink." 

"Whatever." 

"The coffee will be ready in a minute." 

She couldn't look at him. When he realized she was avoiding his eyes, he got 
up and went to her. 

"I said you were beautiful," he said warmly. 

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around to face him. 

"I don't feel beautiful," she said. "I feel ugly and dirty inside." 

He lifted her chin and she finally had to face him. Her eyes brimmed with 
tears as she slowly shook her head. 

"Hey," he called gently, "I'm the doctor, remember? I can see clear inside 
you ... clear through you ... and I say you're beautiful." 

He leaned down and kissed the tears from her cheeks. Nervously, she laughed. 

"That's some bedside manner," she said. 

"And besides all that beauty, you make the best smelling coffee in town." 

"Oh! It's ready. Do you want some?" 

With the first hurdle jumped, it was easier. Meg couldn't forget her shame 
but she was able to relax a little better with the man who had come to help 
her. 

It was evening before they got back to the city. Meg hadn't exactly 
chattered all the way, but she'd carried her end of the conversation until 
they saw the lights of the city ahead and started over the bridge. For the 
next thirty minutes or so, she didn't say a word. 

"You all right?" he asked when he noticed the way she squirmed. 

"I'm edgy," she admitted. 

"Nervous?" 

"I guess so." 

"I can stop at a drug store and get something." 

"No. Forget it. I'll be all right." 

She didn't sound all right. Don searched through his memory bank for a 
similar behavior pattern. He could think of nothing and cursed himself for 
trying. He was too involved emotionally to diagnose. He wasn't even sure she 
was exhibiting any symptoms. 

She was forced to direct him to her home, once he'd reached her neighborhood 
and it seemed to Don that her directions were peculiarly brisk. 

"There ... the brick and board and batten. If you'll pull into the drive, 
I'll open the garage." 

"I can do that." 

"It's locked. You could never find the key." 

He didn't argue. He sat there, wondering if she was still upset about having 
to leave her car. He'd felt she shouldn't drive, and he knew he'd feel safer 
if she couldn't drive around the city alone while he was at the office. She 
hadn't fought it, but she could be angry about it now. 

I'll ignore it, he decided as he pulled into the garage. If only I could get 
her to smile. 

He couldn't. She made coffee and he noticed her hands were shaking. Several 
times he noticed a shiver running through her. 

"Meg," he said finally, "you've had quite a day. Why don't you climb into 
bed right now? I'll run over to my place and pack a few things and then pick 
up some snacks at the delicatessen. You be a good girl and I'll serve your 
dinner in bed." 

"I'm not good. You know that," she snapped. "Meg," he said firmly, "you're 
reading things in where they don't belong. What's the matter?" 

She was hollow-eyed as she shook her head. "I don't know," she answered 
grimly. 

"Then go to bed," he ordered. "You'll feel better in the morning." 

"And how do I sleep when I get there?" she wanted to know. "Do I take two 
with the doctor watching or lay awake and hate myself on one?" 

"You take one, and I'll rub your back." 

"Why? Why are you doing all this?" 

Don grinned. "Business is slow," he said. 

She shook her head, turned, and marched into her bedroom. Don waited for 
about ten minutes and then knocked on her door. 

"Come on in," she answered wearily. 

She was sitting on the edge of her bed which had already been turned down. 
She held a glass of water in one hand, the pill in the other. 

"You can count if you like," she said. 

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "You're beautiful in blue, Meg. With your 
hair down like that, you look like a queen." 

She couldn't accept a compliment. Her magnificent breasts were encased in a 
clinging blue lace, and her long, proud neck and creamy shoulders were 
deliciously exposed. The floor-length gown clung to her waist and thighs and 
over it all tumbled her thick, luxuriant brown-black hair. Every part of her 
invited compliments and adoration, yet she turned away, shivered, and 
quickly slipped into bed where the covers could hide what she had to give. 

"Turn over and I'll rub your back," he ordered. 

"Who the shit is he?" 

Both Meg and Don jumped at the sound of the boyish voice. When they turned 
they saw Danny standing in the doorway glaring at them furiously. 

"You must be Danny," Don said quietly. 

"Who is this bastard, anyway?" the boy snapped. 

"Danny ... I...." Meg stammered. The whine in her voice was unmistakable. 

"I'm Mrs. Culbertson's doctor," Don said. 

"Since when do doctors go out and rub their patients' backs?" the boy 
sneered. "She don't need no doctor." 

"I suppose you think all she needs is you?" Don asked. 

"That's right. Since she's told you my name, I suppose you know how, too." 

"Yes." 

"Then why don't you just cut out, Doc? Me and her got business to take care 
of." 

"Danny," whimpered Meg. 

"It's all right, Meg," Don said quietly. "I won't let him touch you." 

But the boy knew how to get what he wanted. Without a word, he unbuttoned 
his jeans and pushed his shorts down under his balls. His youthful cock was 
jutting straight at her as he approached the bed. Don glanced at Meg and saw 
the hungry torture in her eyes. 

"Can't you see what you're doing to her?" he demanded. "Son, this woman 
is...." 

"Go home, Don," Meg hissed. "Get out now unless you want to see what an ass 
I can make of myself." 

"Meg, I can't let...." 

"Get out! GET OUT!" 

He turned and the boy was grinning at him smugly. Then he reached down, took 
the base of his cock between thumb and forefinger, and shook it at his 
adversary. 

"Ta-ta," he smirked. "Dickie and me are waving you a quick good-bye, Doc. We 
got to give the lady her medicine now." 

He didn't wait another instant but squirmed on out of his pants and went 
around to climb in on the far side of the bed. 

"Get out, Don," pleaded Meg. "Please don't watch this! Oh God, won't you 
please, please go?" 

Mutely, Don nodded. He got up and walked out of the room without once 
looking back. He was careful to give the impression of defeat, for he wanted 
the boy to think he had gone. 

"Hey, that was cool," Danny said with enthusiasm. "I showed him, didn't I?" 

"Come here, damn you!" Meg hissed. 

Pushing him roughly backward, he dropped instantly down and sucked his 
turgid love-muscle into her mouth. With great, slurping draws, she attacked. 

"Eyiii! Take it easy! Oh, geez, that's so great!" 

Danny stretched out, glorying in the sensations that rushed through him. 
This was the life. He could take this kind of working over a dozen times a 
day and never tire of it. 

"Nnnnn! Ohhhhh! Ahhhh!" Meg groaned. 

She was all over him, siphoning his prick one minute and sucking on his 
balls the next. Her fingers pushed hard against his puckered asshole. Her 
movements were frenzied ... compulsive until, after only a couple of 
minutes, she pulled him over the edge into his first orgasm. 

"Easy, Mama, EASY!" he wailed. 

She paid no attention. 

"Lady! Hey! Oh jeez, I'm cummmming!" 

She didn't hear. 

"AHHHHHHH! Oh sonofabitch! Ohhhhhhhh!" 

His small body arced into a rigid bow and then slowly ... slowly relaxed. 

Meg never missed a stroke. If anything, she became more aggressive for his 
pliant, soft flesh whipped her passions into a fury of excitement. 

"Hey," he moaned. "Easy ... take it easy. Come on. Let me alone." 

With his cock soft, she could suck in balls and all. Greedily, she siphoned 
him, so transported with ecstasy that her limbs jerked and flailed 
spasmodically. As the boy's flesh began to respond, she worked it so 
intently that neither she nor Danny noticed Don return. 

Naked he came to them and naked he climbed in beside them. With Meg between 
him and the boy, he moved in close beside her, molding his body against 
hers. He reached for the hem of her gown and slowly worked it up until his 
hand could move in upon her bare thighs, and all the while his movements 
were gentle and relaxed, never intruding upon her mood. She felt warm. She 
felt loved, but she was too engrossed in her pursuits to notice why. 

"That's better," sighed the boy. "Wow, you were sucking hard there for a 
while. Don't want to get me raw, do you? I couldn't let you suck it then. 
Wouldn't that be terrible? Oh, Mama, am I glad you like to suck 'cause I can 
sure use a lot of it. That fucking Mama of mine ... my real one, you know? 
Well, she sucks her boyfriend off all the time. I've seen 'em, but you don't 
see her offering to do it for me. Oh, hell no! She'll sit out there in his 
car, sucking him off right in front of the house. Hell, we all know what 
she's doing, but she don't do it for me. She don't do nothing for me. Maybe 
I'll let you be my Mama instead. Man, you sure know how to suck cock." 

He lay there, splayed out like a frog with his arms folded back behind his 
head. He stared up at the ceiling, and he talked in a visity kind of way, 
jabbering on and on about his favorite subject. 

Don had Meg's nightie all the way up to her shoulders now. With his aching 
prod nuzzled into the crease of her ass and his body tight against her, he 
slowly worked his arm beneath her until he could wrap both arms around her. 
Then one hand found her breast while the other grazed over her belly. She 
didn't tense until his fingers slipped into her bush. 

"Ugh!" she grunted. 

"It's all right," he whispered. "Take it easy, Meg. I'm not going to stop 
you." 

She jerked her head back from the boy's cock, releasing it for the first 
time since Danny climbed onto the bed. 

"I just want to hold you," Don said. "I need to hold you, Meg." 

"What do you mean? You don't need anything. 

You're the doctor, remember?" 

"I'm not here as a doctor. You know that." 

"Bull. You're .making the big sacrifice, trying to help your poor demented 
patient. You figure you can prove that a man can do what a boy can't. 
You...." 

It was time to drop the patient, considerate approach. 

"Fuck off," snorted Danny. "You're supposed to wait in line, buster. I get 
mine first." 

Grabbing Meg by the hair, Don rammed her face into the boy's crotch. 

"Eat it," he ordered. "Quit psychoanalyzing me and get back to work. I've 
got a few projects in mind myself." 

Ripping back the covers, he jerked open her legs and dropped into her cunt. 
She was hot and moist and sweet as hell. And from the moment his mouth 
touched home plate, she began to respond. 

"Ahhhhhhhh! Oh, Donnnnnnnn!" she cried. 

"Suck it!" wailed the boy. "You're forgetting to suck." 

Meg gave and Don gave and the boy took. It was that very difference that 
soon separated man from boy; it was a difference Don desperately hoped to 
prove. 

He hadn't wanted it like this. He'd hoped he could love her gently ... 
tenderly, but she was too hot to argue with now, and the boy would fight it 
if he had the chance. So be it. He'd start with the underbelly, and love the 
rest of the woman when she could relax. His hand slid up across her belly, 
searching for her magnificent breasts, and when he found them he fondled 
them tenderly. While his lips nuzzled and his tongue probed, his hands made 
love to her beautiful breasts. 

She went on sucking, but he didn't care. She was a child sucking her thumb, 
and Danny's rigid little penis was that thumb. He found her cove and stabbed 
his tongue into it, then slithered back up her slippery, molten rut until he 
came to the hard little kernel with the pounding, spasming pulse. He let his 
tongue hover against it, then settle its smoldering surface downward until 
it was thrusting hard against the boiling seed. 

"Nnnnnngh! Nnnnnngh! NNNNNNNNGH! " she grunted, her cries muffled in Danny's 
flesh. 

GO! Don urged feverishly. 

"Shit! Oh Godalmighty! OHHHH! I'm going to fuck off! Oh damn!" 

Do it! Get it over with! thought Don furiously. 

"EYIIIIIIIII!" the boy wailed, and Don knew he was there. 

Jerking Meg away, he raised up and threw himself at her. Miraculously, his 
prod drove itself in on the first thrust, honing in on Meg's vaginal 
lovenest like a lance hitting the bull's eye. 

Don braced himself for her struggle, expecting that her compulsion for 
oralism would cause her to fight him at first. To his complete surprise, she 
locked both her arms and her legs up around him, hugging him to her for all 
she was worth. 

"Fuck me, Don!" she begged. "Oh God, it's so good!" 

He stabbed it into her, again and again, and he reveled in her eager 
response. 

"How, Meg?" he demanded. "Tell me how." 

"Mmmmmmmm, big! So nice and big!" she purred. "Oh, Don, you hit places I've 
needed touched for so long. Hmmmm. You're even hitting a few places that are 
brand new. " 

She shivered deliciously. 

"Bastard," muttered the boy. 

Don grinned. "Never send a boy to do a man's job," he snorted. "Fuck off, 
kid." 

"Don, don't," Meg whimpered. "Please. Just make me feel loved. Oh God, how I 
need to be loved!" 

"You are loved, Meg," he whispered hoarsely, but if she heard, she didn't 
let on. 

"You don't need to think you're cutting me out," the boy growled. "I'll make 
you real sorry if you ever try." 

Meg squeezed Don with her thighs and he poled into her again and again. The 
long, deliberate strokes quickened. Faster and faster they worked until 
their rhythm deteriorated to little more than a strained, shuddering spasm. 

"Now, Don," she whispered. "Do it to me now!" 

He was doing it all to her and more, jabbing her ... grinding his cock into 
her and then working it around and round with a frenzy of movements as he 
tried to feel all of her. She was ripe, physical perfection. He doubled in 
against her and sucked in the turgid nipple of her breast. As his emotions 
soared, he sucked life from the mother earth. 

"Don! Run it clear through me!" she cried. "Oh, my God!" 

Her body strained against him, tautly rigid, and then he felt her vaginal 
muscles explode. They churned and throbbed and milked his searing flesh 
until they literally pulled the cream of life from his aching balls. 

"OHHHHHHHHHH! " he roared. 

The thunder of his voice and the shudder of his body merged into one seizure 
of passion so intense that it thrilled Meg to the very core. She held him to 
her, savoring his excitement and thrilling to the magnitude of his release. 

"Oh, Don! Oh, Don! Hold me tight!" 

And now came the test. She had found release with youngsters, and he 
imagined that release was probably pretty potent stuff, but there was one 
thing besides a full-sized cock that she probably never got from a boy ... 
the holding, the gentle after-moments a man and woman share after their 
release. 

With his cock still inside of her, turning to jelly at its own slow pace, 
Don held Meg in his arms. He ran his fingers through her hair. He told her 
she was beautiful, and he told her she was warm. Everything he could think 
of to show her his gratitude, he was careful to do. Smugly, he noted that 
the boy got bored and went in to take a shower. 

"I've wanted to make love to you since the first day you came into my 
office," Don whispered. 

"Yes," she answered. "You told me then that that was what I needed. Thanks 
for filling the prescription." 

"No, Meg," he said. "You can't believe that." 

She pulled away and there were tears in her eyes when she looked at him. 

"Don, please," she sobbed. "No man in his right mind could possibly want 
me." 

 CHAPTER NINE 

"Meg ... please shut your beautiful mouth ... dear," he said with herculean 
patience. "In another month I'll be a free man, and the day after I'm free I 
can't think of anything I'd rather do than marry this beautiful thing. I'm 
not interested in giving you any kind of therapy except a lot of love, and 
you've had that without realizing it for a long time." 

"Don, how...?" 

He shut her up with a kiss that held both tenderness and an air of 
authority. At first, Meg was too stunned to react. Then, as she began to 
believe, she warmed to him and embraced him responsively. 

"You see, I really wasn't all that shocked, was I?" he teased. "I understand 
all that's happened to you better than you do, Meg. Someday you'll 
understand it too. For now, relax. You're never going to be able to enjoy 
all the love I have to give you until you get over this hate-yourself 
campaign." 

"You said you were going to be free," she mused. "Are you getting a 
divorce?" 

He nodded. "We haven't actually lived together for several years, and we 
never did have anything in common except for our loving the same money. I 
like keeping some of what I earn. Monica wanted it all, so we were never 
able to come to terms on a divorce. She's a methodical, patient woman in a 
vindictive way. She settled down with a separation allowance and waited for 
three years, hoping she could catch me at something. She even had a 
detective trailing me around with a camera for a while ... with bait, yet." 

"How come she gave up?" 

"Met a man ... fell for him. She couldn't get him to move in unless she 
married him. She left for Las Vegas two weeks ago. It will all be over in a 
month." 

"I'll bet it would be a different ball game if she heard about this," Danny 
taunted. 

Don and Meg looked up and saw the boy standing defiantly in the bathroom 
door. 

"I heard it all," he said proudly. "You think you can just get married and 
erase me out of your lives, don't you? Well, screw you!" 

Don frowned. "I'll admit the thought is a pleasant one," he said, "but I'm 
prepared to offer a little more than that. If you'll take that chip off your 
shoulder for a minute, perhaps we can come to terms." 

"I don't want your money," the boy snapped. "There ain't nothing you can 
give me. She's got what I want!" 

Don's mouth opened, then quickly closed. Taking a deep breath, he said, 
"We'll find a way to work it out." 

"Supposing you just work yourself on out of here," the boy suggested 
tauntingly. "She and me want to be alone." 

"No, Danny," Meg pleaded. "I don't want to be like...." 

He turned and glared at her. Grabbing up his limp pecker, he began to jack 
it up. His hand moved briskly ... impudently. It was his open-sesame, and he 
needed to prove its power. Furiously, he waved his little wand at Meg. 

Don could read his furious little mind. Turning away from the boy, he 
pressed his lips to Meg's ear. 

"Humor him, Meg," he hissed. "He's frightened and alone. I'm going to get 
the car out and wait for him to leave. I'll follow him home. I can't tell 
what to do for him until I know more about the boy." 

"Don, you can't want me to .. 

"Do you mind, Meg? Too much?" 

"No, I just thought...." 

"Tell me something, Meg. If it had to come to that, would you enjoy having 
him around?" 

"It wouldn't be right." 

"I didn't ask that. I asked ... " 

"Get that bastard out of here, lady," hissed the boy. 

"I'm leaving," Don assured him. "Meg? Can you tell me how you feel?" 

"It's wrong." 

"But if it wasn't." 

Slowly she nodded her head, grudgingly admitting that she did enjoy the boy. 

Don didn't care what the boy heard now. Getting up from the bed, he smiled. 
"I want you to myself, naturally," he admitted, "but I'm not so sure that's 
the only way. It may be easier to join him than fight him." 

"Glad you've decided to use your head," Danny sniffed. "Now scram on out of 
here. I ain't joining you in nothing." 

"I may learn to put up with you, young man," Don said, "but I'm not going to 
tolerate that attitude of yours for long. I'll be back in an hour or two, 
Meg. Don't fight yourself while I'm gone. You're beautiful, and I love you 
... just the way you are." 

"Thank you, Don," she whispered. 

Don backed his car out of the garage and parked it down the block. Then he 
locked up and went back to the house. He had no voyeuristic urge to watch 
what Meg and the boy were up to, but he didn't dare leave them completely 
alone. 

Danny was far more disturbed emotionally then Meg had ever been. He would be 
unpredictable, too, Don decided. The child's snarling, defiant attitude 
toward him masked a deep-seated insecurity, Don was sure, and when the boy 
popped off about his mother's sexual promiscuity, it gave Don insight into 
the hurt, bewildered child beneath. The boy needed sex to prove that he was 
as much a man as the men in his mother's life. He was ashamed ... sickened 
... furious. 

But what to do about it? It was true that a person in that kind of condition 
could and would do almost anything to keep his security from being 
threatened. Don had boxed the boy into a comer simply by being there. He 
felt certain that Danny would rather see Meg in jail or in a mental 
institution rather than give her up to another man.... 

What am I thinking about? Don asked himself abruptly. Another man! My God! 
Danny won't be a man for six or seven more years! I can't let myself think 
of him as a competitor. He's sick, and he's a child. A part of that sickness 
is a threat to Meg. Therefore, I'm going to have to treat the boy in order 
to cure the woman. 

While Don concerned himself with thoughts of the woman and the boy, he was 
careful not to let himself notice the way his heart began to pound as he 
neared the place where they were. He listened at the door, but all was 
quiet. Having left the door ajar, he checked to see if they were both still 
laying on the bed. There was no violent or threatening motions, and they'd 
turned out the light. Disappointed, he started to turn away. Then he heard 
the faint whisper of the child. 

"Suck me, Mama. Suck me, balls and all!" 

Stiffly, Don walked down the hall and sat in the darkest comer of the living 
room where he would not be noticed. He was painfully aware of his own rigid 
erection. 

Now who's sick? he asked himself. My God, man, you get as big a thrill as 
she does when she gives it to the boy. 

Don heard Danny's cry of elation when the boy reached his crest. It grated 
against his nerves like chalk gritting its way up a blackboard and his cock 
got so hard that it ached. When he didn't hear Meg, he hoped the boy had not 
left her hanging. 

He moved over next to the hall, peering around the comer until he saw a 
movement and heard Danny make some remark about tomorrow. Quickly, Don 
slipped outside and climbed into his car. 

The boy moved so fast through the shadows that Don almost missed him. 
Several times he was sure he'd lost him only to catch sight of him again in 
the next block. The child was smart enough to stay off the sidewalks most of 
the way, preferring to cut through back yards. 

Gradually, they worked their way out of the sprawling California ranch-style 
homes and into an older, poorer section of the city. The houses were smaller 
and ill-kept and when there were garages, they were not attached to the 
house. In place of lawns and shrubs there were wire fences surrounding 
either weeds or dirt. It was one with dirt that Danny hopped the fence to 
enter. 

Don memorized the block and the house for there was no street number on the 
house? The street itself was called Madrone. 

No light came on after Danny slipped through the front door. Don drove back 
to Meg's. He found her in the kitchen having a cup of coffee. She was shaky 
but smiling. 

"I'm glad you're back," she said. 

Don went to her and took her in his arms. "I'm glad you're glad, and that 
smile is the best thing I've seen in ages." 

He kissed her, and she responded warmly. Though she was careful not to 
appear too eager, he could tell by the way her body quivered that the boy 
had left her unfulfilled. He was glad since he'd been carrying around an 
urgent ache of his own. 

"You shouldn't drink coffee at night, you know," he scolded gently. "It will 
keep you awake." 

Taking the cup from her hand, he poured the coffee down the drain, then 
walked her into her bed. 

"You'll sleep good tonight," he promised, purposely teasing her. "When 
you're rested, we have a lot to talk about. " 

"Don?" she whimpered. 

"Yes?" 

"You aren't leaving." 

"Of course not," he teased. "All you have to do is call me and...." 

"I'm calling," she whispered miserably, " ... right now." 

Smiling, he took her in his arms. "I hoped you would," he said. "In fact, I 
was counting on it." Taking her hand, he guided it to the hard log trapped 
against his leg. The moment her eyes lit up, however, he pulled her hand 
away. 

"You were teasing me," she exclaimed. "You let me think you weren't going to 
make love to me." 

"You couldn't have driven me away," he said. 

"No! Ohh! Don't touch. The fuse was lit quite a while ago, and it won't take 
much before I blow!" 

Stepping away, he began to undress, his eyes never leaving hers. Hungrily, 
she watched him, then shed her own robe and gown while she waited. 

Don was tall, firm, and still masculinely youthful. His thick, broad cock 
was ruggedly chiseled and twice the size of what she'd remembered a man to 
be. Meg decided he was everything she could want in a man. 

Naked, they stood there staring at each other. Then, with a shudder of 
excitement racing through him, he scooped Meg up in his arms and carried her 
to the bed. Though it was only a few feet away, he paused to kiss her before 
he laid her down. Her arms went around his broad shoulders as she hugged him 
to her. Then he carried her down with him, laying side to side, skin to 
skin. 

Lips on Ups ... her breasts brushing against his chest, then crushing 
against him ... bellies grazing and a hard cock snuggled into a delightfully 
warm cove ... bristling legs against smooth, silky calves and, as the 
excitement increased, feet and toes curling and twisting together. 

They lay on their sides, straining to keep their thighs as close together as 
possible, and now that they were finally alone, Meg discovered bliss. It was 
a beautiful warm glow that flooded through her, as hot as lust, yet richer 
and more comfortable to live with. 

"I can't believe this is happening," she whispered. "It's too good to be 
true. "You don't have to love me, Don. Just feeling some affection for me 
is...." 

She was at it again, tearing at herself. Would she ever get over it? he 
wondered. He kissed her and playfully told her to hush. He molded her 
marvelous breasts, then slipped down to outline her rump and thighs. 

He couldn't get enough of the feel of her. Her flesh was so creamy and 
moist, and everything and every part of her was warmly responsive. It wasn't 
long before he was too hot and had to pull away. Lovingly he fondled her 
pussy lips until he could stand to feel it again with his prod. 

"It feels so right in your arms," she purred. 

"I've had to wait a long time to get you here," he said. "It's almost a 
relief." 

"I wish I could have waited," she said wistfully. 

"Hush, Meg. I didn't have the pressures you did ... and what pressures I did 
have were used up. I didn't sit around saying no to myself like you did." 

"Is that all it was?" 

"That was a lot of it. Mmmmmm, you smell good ... and you feel good...." He 
kissed her, pushing his tongue in to twine around hers. "And taste good," he 
added. 

Both of them wanted it to last. They wanted to savor it and explore these 
wondrous, new feelings, but it wasn't long before they were too strained to 
prolong the glow. 

"Don," she whimpered. "Please?" 

"Yessss," he hissed. "Damn! I wanted it to be so right! ... especially the 
first time! Danny spoiled it and now ... now we're rushing through it. I'm 
sorry ... I can't help it, Meg ... I need you!" 

"Take me, Don," she answered hoarsely. "Take me now!" 

She rolled over onto her back as he rose above her. She spread her legs 
eagerly, and he climbed in between her pliant thighs. She strained to meet 
him, reaching for his pole, and guiding it into her smoldering love-nest." 

"Hurry!" she urged. 

He could feel her membranes reaching out to his cockhead, and he took a deep 
breath as he sunk his feverish dick into her steaming cunt. It went down ... 
and down ... and in ... and in, and from around and above and under and 
through, it filled him with ecstasy. Her love-juices flowed, boiling hotly 
up around him. 

"Ohhhhhh, Don! Ohhhhhhhhhh!" 

"I need you, Meg. You're so damn good!" 

It was good. It was rapid, it was rushed, but it was good. Don doubled over 
and buried his face in her spongy, tight breasts, nuzzling until his mouth 
found a turgid nipple. He sucked it with passion. 

Meg had never felt so completely possessed. She wrapped her legs up around 
Don's middle and eagerly squeezed him in. He kneaded her sweet ass with his 
hands and it was all a part of the one, wondrous whole. The more he gave 
her, the more she seemed to need. 

"Harder, Don! Harder!" she urged. 

His long, powerful drives became shorter as they quickened, and the pace 
grew steadily more rapid until it was little more than a rhythmless jab. 
Meg's mouth was dry as she strained for air and her heart pounded furiously. 

They strained; they pushed; they ground hotly against each other as they 
edged ever closer to the abyss. 

"Come with me, Meg," Don pleaded suddenly. "I can't hang on any longer. 
Come, Meg ... cummmmmmmmm! " 

"Ohh! Ohhhh!" Meg whimpered frantically. 

Her heels dug into his ass, and she slammed herself against him, but it 
wasn't enough. Dropping down, she dug her feet into the mattress and rammed 
upward with such force that she lifted them both. Grinding, rolling, rocking 
hotly up against him, she abandoned herself to the ultimate ecstasy. 
Completely and totally, she let herself go. 

"Do it, Don! Do it! Do it! DO IT!" 

For a long moment they soared together along the edge of passion's crest. 
Then Don felt his balls knot and his gravy burst free. Meg greeted the first 
shot with an ecstatic wail. 

"AHHHHHHHHHH! " she cried; then her own emotions broke open and showered 
passion over them both. 

Warm, voluptuous release flooded through their bodies and sapped them of the 
last smidgen of energy. Without any sleeping pill, Meg slept like a baby, 
her arms warmly embracing the body of Don Monleon. 

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, but no one at the Culbertson house 
noticed. Meg and Don were fast asleep. Following the precedence set at the 
cabin, they did not begin to stir until noon. 

When Meg woke up this time, however, she did not try to avoid her doctor or 
grovel in her shame. She awoke happy, became deliriously excited when she 
found him there beside her, and immediately began showering him with her 
love. 

"Wake up, beautiful man," she whispered. "Wake up and turn over. I want to 
see you." 

She tickled her fingers up over his broad shoulder and on down his arm. 

"Have a heart," he groaned without moving. "Let the sun get up before you 
begin to nag." 

"Sun up? Baloney!" she laughed. "It's noon, love. You are a very lazy man." 

"Ohhhh," he grunted with a start. "Not again! I had important things to do 
today." 

He raised up on one elbow and squinted at the window. There was no erasing 
the cruel sun that blatantly glared back at him. Rubbing his face, he turned 
away. 

"Mmmmmm, I hoped you'd say that," she purred. "Turn over and let's get 
started." 

But he hadn't meant that kind of important thing. Laughing, he turned to 
tousle her hair. 

"I've got to get over to that boy's house, Meg. Damn, I was hoping I'd have 
something figured out by now." 

"Whatever are you talking about?" she demanded. 

"Danny," he said. "Something is going to have to be done about the boy. You 
know that, surely." 

"Yes," she admitted, "but what?" 

"Well, if I were unethical, I'd let him start spouting and then get him 
declared insane. Then I could have him committed ... but I'm not unethical, 
Meg." 

She shuddered. Smiling tenderly, she reached up and gave his cheek a kiss. 

"No, I wouldn't want that sort of thing to happen to anyone," she said. 
"Perhaps, if you threatened him ... if he realized you could do such a thing 
... wouldn't that be enough?" 

"Threaten him? No, I hardly think I'm that type either ... and neither are 
you, Meg." 

"But he's threatening to blackmail us," she reminded him. "That's a terrible 
thing." 

"He's just a boy." 

"Of course. I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. The only reason I have ready answers so far is that I woke up in 
the middle of the night and worried it all out. I still don't have any sort 
of solution, but I do have a couple of ideas." 

"I'm ready to listen." 

"If I'm not badly mistaken the boy has an environment problem that has 
disturbed him severely. I want to see just how bad the home is before I know 
what to try on him. We owe it to him to help him if we can." 

"Oh, Don, that would be wonderful. Do you mean that we could make him happy 
enough that he'd forget about us?" 

"I don't really know what I mean yet, Meg," Don said evasively. Pulling back 
the covers, he swung around and got to his feet. "I won't know what I mean 
until I get over there and see what the situation is," he added. 

She watched him stretch his very desirable frame and then head it toward the 
bathroom. 

"Hurry back," she coaxed wistfully as he disappeared behind the door. 

Don's head popped back into the doorway and he grinned. "Will do," he 
promised. "How about brewing up a pot of that great coffee you make while 
I'm in the shower?" 

"Brother!" she snickered. "That's using psychology." 

Whatever the method, it got her up. Meg hopped out of bed, and by the time 
Don was out of the shower, not only was there coffee waiting, but bacon and 
eggs as well. 

"How do you propose to find out about Danny's family?" she asked. 

"I'm not sure yet." 

"You aren't going to play private eye, I hope. Skulking around in dark 
alleys can be dangerous." 

"I hope it won't come to that," he said. 

"Perhaps you can talk to the neighbors. There's always one gossipy old lady 
that knows all and is dying to tell it." 

"No ... oh, I don't know. Really, Meg, I thought about it for hours last 
night. I finally decided that I'd just wait and size up the situation when I 
get there. I'm going to play it all by ear." 

He answered her questions but his mind was elsewhere so Meg didn't press. He 
ate, complimented her on her cooking, and then excused himself. 

"The sooner I get this over with, the easier it will be," he said. "I'll see 
you later." 

She kissed him good-bye. 

"One thing, Meg," he warned. "If Danny should come around while I'm gone, 
humor him." 

"How do you mean?" 

"Do whatever he asks, Meg," Don cautioned. "Don't argue with him on any 
account. Remember ... anything he asks." 

"All right, Don," she promised quietly, "whatever he asks." 

 CHAPTER TEN 

Don had intended to park down the block from Danny's house and watch it for 
a while until he could decide what to do. Somewhat surprised at his own 
actions, he drove directly to the boy's house instead. 

I said I'd play it by ear, he thought with a shrug. This must be the best 
way. 

Once he'd parked in such an obvious position, the only thing to do was get 
out and go in. He couldn't very well just sit there. He got out, looked 
around, and decided to lock his car. No use taking chances in this 
neighborhood. Several surly-looking children were eyeing him from the house 
next door and some hippie-type teenagers watched from down the block. No 
wonder Danny roamed out of his own area. 

He walked to the gate and wrestled with the catch for a few moments. It had 
broken and been repaired with a piece of wire which had to be unwrapped each 
time the gate was open. Fumbling with it, Don chuckled to himself, thinking, 
"There goes my dignified grand entrance." 

A very young and very pregnant girl opened the door and stared out at him. 

"We don't want any," she said. 

"Any what?" he asked. 

"Whatever you're selling." 

"I'm not selling. I'm a friend of Danny's." 

"Huh, that's a laugh. Danny never had a friend in his life. Danny! This here 
man says he's your friend." 

Don gave up on the gate and hopped on over just as Danny appeared in the 
doorway. Don knew he'd have to start talking before the boy did or all would 
be lost. 

"He ain't...." 

"Danny's been doing some work for me," Don said quickly. "I'm a doctor. I'd 
like to talk to your mother, Danny. I thought maybe we could work out 
something a little more permanent." 

"Huh?" 

"Is your mother at home, Danny?" 

"You been working? You ain't brought a fucking dime ... 'scuse me, Doc, but 
he ain't brought none of it home, and we could use the help." 

"He hasn't brought anything home because I haven't paid him yet," Don 
countered with a show of impatience which he knew would please Danny. "Now, 
is your mother home please?" 

Without budging an inch, the girl bellowed, "Ma!" 

"Who is it, Melody?" 

The girl that joined the others at the door obviously wasn't Danny's mother. 
A little older than her sister and a little taller, she was also just a 
little less pregnant. Don figured one girl was perhaps fifteen and the other 
sixteen or seventeen. 

The worried-looking woman who was their mother finally arrived. She was no 
painted hussy as Danny had pictured her, just a thin, angularly bony woman 
who looked more tired than anything else. 

"Says he's a friend of Danny's," Melody rasped. 

"How'd you do?" she asked. "I hope he ain't done nothing wrong." 

She looked like she expected that he had. There was still a very grimy 
screen door between them. 

"No," Don assured her quickly. "May I come in?" 

"Well, uh ... the place is a mess, but if you don't mind. Here, you kids. 
Get out of the way. Come on in. You'll have to excuse us. We haven't been 
having it easy since...." 

"We never had it easy," the older daughter snapped. 

"I know but ... my two girls both got themselves knocked up ... rotten boys 
... neither one of them would own up to it. I don't know what the world's 
coming to. Kids don't have no respect anymore. We ain't welfare, you know. 
I'm too proud for that. I work ... I support them myself. I've never had a 
dime's worth of help from their father. They all got the same father, too, 
by God ... not like the trash that lives around us." 

"Ma, you talk too much," Melody said. 

"She hasn't said anything cruel," Don told the girl. "You may say fewer 
words, but you've already cut down both your brother and your mother. Who 
would you say talked too much, Danny?" 

Danny hadn't said a single word, but now he grinned. 

"Melody!" he said with fervor. 

"Bullshit," snorted the girl, and she turned and stamped into her room. 

They opened the door for him and he stepped inside. The living room was 
every bit as messy as she'd warned it would be. It was small and dreary and 
there were piles of newspapers and dirty clothes on the chairs. She pulled 
aside another pile of unironed clothes on the divan to make a place for him 
to sit. 

"Excuse the...." 

"It's fine." 

"And this is about Danny? ... what you come for, I mean." 

"Yes," Don said as he stalled for time. 

His brain was churning now. Danny leaned against the wall, his face 
impassive as he watched to see what move the doctor would make. Don felt, at 
that moment, that he'd already fallen on his face. 

Got to think up a tie that won't involve Meg. The office. Yes, he worked for 
me around the office? Christ! What does a twelve-year-old find to do for pay 
around a psychiatrist's office. Weed the planter? Mow the postage stamp yard 
when there's already a gardener who does all the grounds for the building? 
Hardly. 

"Danny was looking for work when I met him," he said finally. "There wasn't 
much he could do around the office ... except weed the planters, but he 
seemed so eager to work that I let him do the yard at my home." 

"You been working?" the boy's mother demanded. "How come you didn't tell 
me?" 

"I haven't paid him anything, yet," Don said before the boy could answer. 

"Good, then you can pay me ... right now," she said. "I work hard enough 
that I figure the kids ought to help out, too, when they can. They owe it 
... especially Danny. He's been a thorn in my side since before he was 
born." 

"How do you figure that?" Don asked. 

"It was on account of my getting pregnant that third time that my husband 
ran out on me. He said he had dreams and nobody with a herd of kids ever had 
a chance of making their dreams come true. 

Can you fancy that? Shit! I had dreams, too, not that they ever did me any 
good." 

"That's what I came to see you about," Don jumped in. 

"How you mean?" 

"I have a patient who has never had any children. Her husband died a year 
ago and she's terribly lonely. I took Danny over to do her yard and the two 
of them have become great friends." 

"So?" Danny's older sister queried. 

"This lady is afraid of being alone. I suggested that she might feel safer 
if Danny stayed there." 

"At her house?" Danny asked with an enthusiasm Don had never heard in him 
before. 

"Yes, Danny," Don said. 

"She wants him?" the mother asked incredulously. 

"He'll drive her up a wall," the daughter assured him. 

"I don't think so," Don said. "I'm a psychiatrist and I think they would be 
good for each other." 

"You can say that again," the boy muttered. 

"You're a shrink?" the sister asked. "You're the one that kid needs." 

"I don't think even a shrink ... ah, a psychiatrist could help me," the 
mother mourned. 

"I never mentioned this to Danny because I wanted to meet you first. I 
wouldn't want such a move to cause you any hardship. However, now that I'm 
here I think perhaps it would help you all. You'd have more room, more money 
left out of your pay check, and then Mrs. Culbertson would expect to pay a 
little something to you every month that the boy stayed with her. I believe 
it would help Danny, too. He's a good boy, but he has a few rough edges that 
could use rounding off. Mrs. Culbertson could do this for him." 

"And she's going to pay me?" the mother asked. "Certainly. What kind of a 
student is Danny?" 

"Terrible." 

"Then he'll have to improve. If he stays with her, she'd like to see him on 
through college. Of course, that would depend on Danny. He'd have to want to 
change or Mrs. Culbertson would be better off without him at all. She wants 
good things for him so bad, you know. I don't want her disappointed anymore 
than she already has been." 

"He'll change," the mother promised. 

"Who says?" Danny snorted. 

"I say, or I'll kick you in the seat of the pants. How much did you say she 
was going to pay me?" 

"I didn't say," he answered pointedly. "That would be up to her." 

"And me!" snapped the boy. "What about me?" 

"You don't have to go, Danny," Don assured him. "That's entirely up to you 
and your family." 

"He'll go." 

"Yeah, I'll go. I sure as shit don't want to hang around here no more!" 

"Danny!" 

"Come on, shrink. Let's go." 

What have I let myself in for? Don wondered. I surely didn't have to go this 
far to salve my conscience: 

But he knew it was a good idea. The boy had intrigued him even as his foul 
mouth had made him mad. His mental disorder was classic, the kind they use 
in the books. Maybe he'd write him up one day. In the meantime he knew he 
would have to share Meg with a foul-mouthed, vile-minded little boy. Yet, 
even that had its attraction. How many men could go home to three-way sex 
every night? And so it came back to the old adage: Physician, heal thyself. 

He'd played it by ear all the way and these crazy suggestions he'd come up 
with had been pulled out of his own mind. Right or wrong, they were the 
solution his subconscious had evolved, and he was stuck with them. 

"Danny, if you'd like to come with me now, we can talk to Mrs. Culbertson 
and see how much she could offer your mother.." 

"Anything is too much," snapped the boy. 

"That's wrong, son," Don said firmly. "Apologize to your mother." 

"In a pig's eye." 

"Danny," Don said firmly and he took the boy's furious glare and stared 
right back. It went on for some time, with the mother spluttering in the 
background. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, the boy replied: 

"I'm sorry," he said. 

There are the words Meg is always using. What a life this is going to be. 
I'll have a wife that says the phrase too often and a stepson who can 
scarcely say it at all. 

"That's good, son," he encouraged. "Now ask your mother if I have her 
permission to take you with me." 

"Certainly," cut in the mother. "I'll miss him something fierce, but I 
wouldn't stand in his way." 

"Crap," snorted her daughter. 

Don felt sorry for Danny's mother. She wasn't a bad old gal ... just beat. 

"Let's cut out of here," the boy grumbled. 

But Don was looking for some kind of lever that would help keep the boy in 
line once they were alone. 

"I'll be back tomorrow, Mrs. ... uh, good Lord, I don't think I ever heard 
your last name, Danny." 

"O'Brian," he answered quickly. "Now let's...." 

"Mrs. O'Brian," Don went on. Gripping the boy tightly by the shoulder, he 
held him there while he went on talking to the mother. "Here's my card. You 
can reach me any time through my answering service. Tell me, Mrs. O'Brian, 
if Danny does well with me, would you consider giving him up legally?" 

"How you mean?" 

"Well, if he was a very good boy end ... I don't have any children either, 
Mrs. O'Brian. This patient I spoke of ... we are thinking about getting 
married. Actually, I have proposed and she has accepted. We both have money 
... not a lot, but we're comfortably situated. I...." 

"And you want to make him yours so you can leave him everything. Oh, my God! 
That's just fabulous!" 

"We're not planning on dying soon, Mrs. O'Brian." 

She laughed. It was a throated, belly kind of thing that was an obvious 
hangover of happier days. She reached over and playfully cuffed the boy. 

"Look at him," she said. "He may not think much of getting to go to college 
just yet ... but money? Oh, he understands that! Be good, Danny, or I'll 
kill ya!" 

Danny was silent for some time after they left. When he did speak, his 
thoughts came as quite a surprise to Don. 

"I ain't heard her laugh like that since I don't know when," he said. 

"She's a good woman, Danny," Don said with feeling. "Don't let me hear you 
tear her down again. I mean that." 

"She sucks cocks," he said with a sneer. 

"There's nothing sinful about oral sex," Don argued. "Frankly, I feel sorry 
for her because she had to do it in a car ... had no place else to go. If 
she hadn't been a good mother, she'd have brought him into the house and 
told you kids to go to hell." 

Danny quickly changed the subject. "You're running scared, taking me in like 
this." 

"I could care less about your threats," Don snapped. "With your school 
record and reputation, nobody would believe your word against mine." 

"I suppose you're going to pay my mother out of the goodness of your heart," 
the boy snorted. "That's a fucking laugh!" 

"Watch your mouth, Danny," Don warned. "I'm going to explain it to you just 
once, so listen real close. I'm never going to repeat it, and I'll call you 
a liar if you pass it on. Meg could get along without you now. She has me. 
She does, however, carry feelings of guilt where you're concerned. You've 
caused a very decent woman to come to hate herself. I mean that literally, 
Danny. She hates herself for what you've conned her into doing." 

"So what can I do about it?" the boy asked. 

Don could see that he was beginning to squirm. Hopefully, he plowed on. 

"There are other guilts I can't erase for her ... you started a chain 
reaction and it's put her through hell. Now, since we can't touch these 
other things, we have to make the whole thing seem less sinful. Can you 
understand that?" 

"Not very well," Danny admitted. 

-"Look, we're going to have sex together as though it was the most natural 
thing in the world." 

"You and me?" 

"Hell no! You and Meg ... me and Meg. We're going to give you a good enough 
life that she can see only good coming out of this. Do you understand that?" 

"Yes," the boy said through clenched teeth. "Any questions?" 

"I got one." 

"What is it?" 

"We're going to have all this good life and stuff ... while you hate my 
guts. Is that right?" Well, there it is, Don old boy ... as questions go, 
that's the biggy! he thought. 

"No, Danny," he said, forcing himself to try to believe what he was saying. 
"I hope we can grow to love each other ... at least learn to like each 
other. I don't hate you. I even think I understand you a little. I hope you 
can learn to like and respect me." 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

"Meg!" Don called as he opened the front door. Then he raised his fingers to 
his lips and glanced back at the boy. 

"Let me do the talking. She had no idea of what I was going to do. " 

"She don't know I'm going to live here?" Danny demanded. There was genuine 
alarm in his voice. 

"She'll want you after she gets over the shock," Don assured him. "Just let 
me do the talking." They found Meg in the kitchen. She had the mixer going 
and was cooking up a storm. 

"You look beautifully domestic," he said. 

"Oh, Don, I'm so gl ... Danny!" 

"I brought him home with me, Meg. He needs a home in the worst way." 

"You mean ... he's going to live here?" 

"Why not? Really, Meg, the boy needed to get away from that place. He has 
two sisters, both pregnant with no husbands or even boyfriends who will 
admit to fathering them. His mother is a good woman and very proud. She 
won't take welfare, but it means that she has to work all hours and can't be 
home to guide them. There's no father around. If I'd left Danny there, he'd 
have been in jail within a year or two. I just had to try to help. I 
promised the mother a little allowance if she'd let her son come watch over 
you. I told her you were terribly lonely and needed...." 

"Don! You're leaving me. I knew it!" 

Don quickly pulled her into his arms. Burrowing his face in her hair, he 
assured her that he had no place else to go. 

"It's going to be the three of us, from here on," he promised. 

She pulled away from him and stared first at him and then the boy. Then, as 
though an overwhelming load had just been lifted from her shoulders, she 
reached out and pulled Danny into a three-way hug. 

"Never was there a more understanding man," she whimpered. "Danny, do you 
have any idea how wonderful he is?" 

Danny shrugged and scuffed the floor, and he couldn't exactly think of what 
to say but the blush in his cheeks and the lack of a smart answer told Don 
and Meg that he did, in fact, agree. 

"Put up your cooking, woman," Don ordered. "We're going into the bathroom, 
and we're going to undress each other, and we're going to have a long, very 
sexy shower. Then we are going to move on into the bedroom, climb up on your 
oversized bed, and we're going to have a long, very sexy orgy." 

He could feel a shiver of excitement run through both of them at his 
suggestion. "Come on," he urged. "Let's do it now." 

Meg switched off two burners and the oven. Danny was already sprinting down 
the hall. Don and Meg walked arm in arm and he was pleased to feel how 
relaxed she was. 

"Thanks for going along with this," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't talk it 
over with you first. I really didn't know what I was going to say until I 
said it. Then the whole idea just flowed out." 

"Are you sure you aren't going to mind?" she asked. 

"Meg, it excites me, too, watching you with the boy. Just hearing the two of 
you together turns me on." They walked into the bedroom. "Come on, Danny," 
Don said. "Let's undress our beautiful Mama." 

The boy grinned. "I'll start at the bottom and you can start at the top," he 
suggested. "We'll meet in the middle." 

Danny dropped to the floor and untied Meg's shoes while Don unbuttoned her 
full-length hostess robe. As she stepped from her shoes, Don was lifting her 
gown away. She was left wearing only a pair of panties and a demi-brassiere. 

"Look at her," Don exclaimed. "Isn't she sensational?" 

"You mean the boobs?" Danny asked. "I dig on big boobs, but the rest of her 
bod ain't bad, either." 

"Thanks, I think," snickered Meg. 

Don unhooked her brassiere while Danny pulled down her panties. Her lush 
breasts surged forward and quivered a moment. Then the flattened nipples 
began to take shape, hardening with the cooler air and Meg's anticipation of 
excitement. Don ran his fingertips across her mounds, leaving a trail of 
goose flesh in his wake. 

"Ohhhhhh," sighed Meg. 

The boy was exploring, too. For the first time, he took a close look at a 
woman's love nest, and he found that the more he looked, the more he wanted 
to look. 

All of Danny's sensual experience until this moment had been self-oriented, 
no matter who he was with or what he was doing. His phallus and the things 
he could do or have done to it was as far as his mind had been able to 
carry. Now he began to wonder where Meg's excitement came from and what 
areas of her snatch would feel the most. He touched her puffy, furred lips 
and heard her moan. Pleased, he touched again as his own excitement became 
intense. 

"Easy, Danny," Don warned. "It's time for Meg and I to undress you." 

The boy shot him a look filled with concern. "You ain't screwing me;" he 
said. "Not ever!" 

"No, Danny," Don assured him. "I have no such urge, though I understand you 
deserve it from some of the smaller kids you've buggered." 

Don again started with the shirt while Meg went to work on Danny's sneakers. 
It was a longer ordeal than it had been with Meg. His shoes were run down 
and his sox stiff. When Meg looked up and saw that the shirt was gone, she 
shivered. Don was standing behind the boy, his arms encircling him, and his 
hands were unbuttoning Danny's fly." 

"Ahhhhh," she sighed. 

The waistband came free and then the fly. Don peeled the pants away like he 
was skinning a banana. Then his hands slid inside the back to squeeze the 
boyish ass. Meg reached up and pulled the pants down over the skinny thighs. 

Her breathing became labored the moment his rigid little fingerling 
appeared. For a moment she crouched there staring at it, unable to move. 
Then she glanced up at Don, embarrassed by her betrayal of emotion for the 
small, delectable appendage. 

"Suck him," Don urged. "Let me see you take it into your mouth and love it a 
little." 

Staring up at Don, Meg let her feverish lips come closer and closer to the 
rigid, tender flesh. 

"Nnnnngh," she moaned when it touched her mouth. Then she closed her eyes 
and let her lips brush back and forth over the warm, pliant flesh. 

She touched only the foreskin which was long enough to pucker over the end 
of his staff even when he had a hard-on as he did now. His long tongue slid 
out from between her lips and rooted into the hidden cockhead beneath. 
Reaching up, she took ahold of him and slowly skinned the wrapper of skin 
away from his feverish treasure. 

"Ahhh!" gasped the boy as she sucked him in. 

He drew in his gut deep and strained his small prod forward as Meg's head 
began to bob up and down his pole. 

"Suck his balls, too, Meg," Don urged. "Take it all!" 

"Hey, man, take it easy," the boy groaned. "I'm going to fuck off too fast 
as it is." 

"You're young enough for seconds." 

"As many times as I want it," the boy bragged, but it still came out a 
groan. 

"Skim off the cream, Meg," Don hissed. "Slow him down enough to give him a 
little control. God, but you're good, Meg. I can almost feel you doing it to 
me." 

She whimpered and one hand reached for his fly, but Don pushed her away. 

"Danny first," he said. "Suck Danny first." 

Don was so excited that he moved in to watch. Meg quickly unzipped his fly. 
Struggling inside the crotch of his pants, she managed to fish out his 
thick, hot cock. Then she was pulling at him and tugging to bring that 
shivering prick over to her. 

And she took them both in her mouth at once! 

"Jesus!" muttered Don. 

"Ahhhhhhhh!" groaned the boy. 

Reaching inside Don's pants again, she found his sack of nuts. Eagerly, she 
began to roll and rub them, her other hand doing the same thing to the small 
balls of the shivering boy. 

Her tongue slid over first one cockhead and then the other, until Don's 
knees turned to rubber, and he had to lean against the wall. Danny, in turn, 
leaned against him. 

It was coming too fast, his passion crowding in around him so rapidly that 
he couldn't get control of himself. It was even worse when he looked down at 
her. Her eyes were closed in voluptuous ecstasy, her hands working their 
long, slender fingers over them and the two cocks ... so extreme in their 
differences ... both jammed into her mouth. 

"Suck it, Mama," groaned the boy. "Oh, sonofabitch, damn-it-all-to-hell, 
OHHHHHHHH!" 

As Don watched, the shuddering boy belched up his load. Don could feel the 
cum jettison. Some of it landed on his own prod. With effort, he eased his 
cock out of her mouth and let her finish siphoning off the boy's load. 

"Ahhhhh," she sighed as he pulled free. 

She turned toward Don, as though ready to finish, him off, too, but he 
wouldn't let her get her hands on it. Moving quickly over to the far side of 
the room, he began to undress. 

"We were going to shower together, remember?" he laughed shakily. 

"I'm sorry. I ... " 

"Sorry for what? Please don't be sorry for doing what I asked ... or for 
turning me on ... or for being beautiful and sexy and...." He walked back to 
her and pulled her to her feet. "You are forbidden to ever say you're sorry 
again. Is that understood?" 

"I didn't realize I was ... I'm sor ... ooops! There I go again," she 
laughed. 

He pulled her to her feet and held her, but when she reached for his aching 
pole, he had to pull her hand away. 

"Little boys can take that sort of thing and bounce right back for more," he 
said. "I've got to make mine last a little longer. 

"Danny, why don't you get the water running? Meg can get the towels, while I 
stand about and pant." 

It was a revelation to see Danny grin. Gone was the sneering curl at the 
edge of the mouth and the sarcastic smirk in his eye. He was suddenly eager 
to please. He turned on the water and adjusted the controls half a dozen 
times before he was satisfied. 

He jumped in, realized that he was not being a gentleman, and scampered back 
out. Don and Meg laughed. Then they all crowded in together. 

"Here," said Meg, "I thought if we each had our own bar of soap we could 
lather each other up at the same time. I brought three washclothes, too!" 

"We'll take the soap but you can toss the others away," Don told her. "I'd 
rather feel your hands on me than any rag." 

"Me, too," Danny quickly agreed. "Mmmmmmm," purred Meg. "I see what you 
mean," as both man and boy began to lather her. 

Her breasts attracted a great amount of attention. Don lathered one while 
Danny smoothed suds over the other. Even in the warm water, her nipples 
began to bunch with excitement. 

Don placed suds on her pussy lips, too, massaging her so gently that she 
shivered all over. 

"Don," she whispered. "Do something for me, please?" 

"What?" 

"Wash Danny. I want to know that you don't resent each other. I know you 
don't want to touch, but just washing each other ... there ... surely that 
wouldn't hurt anything." 

Though he nodded his assent, Don was frowning and hesitant. It was Danny 
that first began. 

"You feel funny," he laughed as he took Don's large cock in his hand. "Huh! 
Makes me feel kind of funny touching it." 

Gently, carefully, he lathered the feverish pole, careful to skin it back 
and cleanse it with clear water around the edge of the head. Although it was 
twice the size of his own, he treated it ... cleaned it, and inspected it as 
if it were his own. Almost as an afterthought, he reached down and quickly 
lathered Don's balls. 

"There, is that what you wanted, Mama?" 

"Yes, Danny," she breathed. "Thank you." 

Now Don got down on one knee and reached for the smaller prod. It was hard 
as steel. With the practiced fingers of a doctor, Don kept his touch as 
impersonal as he could. Memories of what his own pecker felt like when he 
was Danny's age now danced through his brain. 

He could remember the first time somebody else touched it for him. It had 
been another boy, and the sensations he'd stirred in Don's boyish loins were 
so intense that Don was paralyzed with excitement. Every ounce of his being 
screamed at what he was doing, but he could not have stopped it if his life 
had depended on it. 

The boy had come to spend the night. He'd laughed at Don when Don put on his 
pajamas. The boy said he and his whole family always slept in the nude. 
After some ribbing, Don had gone to bed bare, but he was scared half to 
death that his mother would pop into his room. They snickered and told dirty 
stories for some time before the other boy ... what was his name, anyway? 
Bob? Rob? Brad! That was it. Brad Evans ... anyway, Brad started in telling 
him about a game. He told Don that the guys held this cum contest to see who 
could get there the first. They jacked each other off. He kept telling how 
good it felt when this guy did it and how fast it went when another guy did 
it. 

"There's this one guy though ... I can't even explain it. He sort of runs 
his fingers over you ... like this. See how it makes you jump? Then he 
slides it back, real slow and easy like ... like this ... and...." 

"Ohhhhhhhh," Don had groaned as the sensations poured through him. 

"Here, give me your hand. Put it here. Yeah. Now take ahold of mine and 
we'll have a race. Sure beats doing it to yourself, doesn't it?" 

Don had not been able to answer. It was all too new and strange, and the 
feeling was the most potent sensation he'd ever felt in his life. Don lay 
there boxing the boy's meat while the boy boxed his. He didn't say a word 
through it all, and he won hands down. He'd had to go on pumping away at 
Brad's small dingus for another two or three minutes before his puffing 
friend shot off his load of jazz. 

It was an insignificant thing to remember so vividly, but first sexual 
encounters usually are both unimaginative and unusually potent. 

"What do you feel, Don?" Meg urged. 

"I was just remembering what it was like to be twelve," Don admitted. 

He rinsed the boy's equipment and then turned back to Meg. 

"This is good for getting acquainted, but I think we'd all be happier in bed 
about now," he said. 

"Yes," exclaimed the boy. 

"Please," nodded Meg. 

Danny turned off the shower while Don reached for the towels. They dried 
each other, then hurried into the bed. Danny stretched out, waiting for Meg 
to attack, but Don held her back. 

"Danny, it's time you learned to give a little," he said. "This once, I 
think we should turn things around." 

"How?" the boy asked. 

"Meg is always kissing you where you like it. Have you ever done the same 
for her?" 

"You mean...? God, I don't know. I fucked her once, but ... I guess I could 
try." 

"Danny, you don't have to...." Meg began. 

"Lay down, Meg," Don ordered. 

Meg meekly obeyed. 

"What are you going to do?" Danny asked. 

"I told you we were going to turn it around this time," Don said. 

"Oh, yes!" Meg exclaimed. "Yes!" 

"You can kiss it ... or eat it ... or screw it," Don told the boy, "and when 
I'm through you can have yourself sucked if you like, but I get it first." 

With that, he stretched out beside Meg with his cock close to her face. 
Reaching for it with both hands, she cupped it tenderly then moved in to 
press fluttery kisses all over his head. She pulled back the foreskin 
slowly, revealing only the parts she was ready to nibble on, and Don gripped 
the mattress with his hands, trying to hang on. 

It was a dizzying sensation, so violently sensual that it threatened to 
blast him clear off the bed. He had a sense of falling, and the air rushing 
past him made it hard to breathe. 

Danny lay there staring at Meg's pussy for a long moment. His first reaction 
to Don's suggestion was one of revulsion. God! He didn't want to stick his 
face in that! The more he looked, however, the less objectionable the idea 
became, until he decided that it really wouldn't hurt him to try. Twisting 
around, he pulled himself over her until he was half laying on her thighs. 
Then he leaned down close to her snatch and sniffed. 

The smell was sweet and kind of sexy ... no, it was more than that! It was 
potently sensual for it burned into his brain, filling his head with lewd 
visions. 

He stuck out his tongue and felt her puffy, feverish lips covered with downy 
fuzz. Lightly he ran his tongue over her, wondering that it didn't repel him 
at all anymore. With a shiver, he moved in the rest of the way, his lips 
touching home in an open-mouthed slobbering kiss. 

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" gasped Meg. 

Her body shuddered with excitement and this gave Danny a sense of power that 
he had never felt before. He was thrilling her, playing with her emotions. 
It made him feel like God. 

Meg had nibbled down Don's shaft all the way to the roots, and now she was 
working feverishly on his balls. Her mouth was open, the tongue lathing his 
fur until it was matted with her saliva. 

With his head propped up on his hand, Don watched it all. He saw the boy's 
first gropping attempt to do what he'd been asked to do ... he saw the fever 
catch the child and transport him into a feverish state of ecstasy. But most 
of the time he watched Meg. 

Even when she was lost in an erotic world of oralism, Meg was beautiful. Her 
graceful hands could not look gross as she fingered his balls. Thrill after 
thrill tingled through her body. He could see it in the blissful rapture of 
her expression. 

She mouthed her way back up his stalk and then let his cockhead slip into 
her mouth. Even before she closed her lips around it, Don could feel the 
hot, wet excitement of her molten caress. Then he was enveloped in her, his 
cockhead wetly trapped by her rhythmically sucking tongue. A white-hot heat 
coursed through his body, searing his senses and inflaming his brain.- 

"Daaaaaammmmmmmmmmmnn," he groaned. Sensations buffeted him and he rolled 
with the punches. When his arm became too shaky to support his head, he 
dropped back on the bed and closed his eyes, letting passion have its way 
with him. Its way was excruciatingly good! 

"Nnnnngh!" Meg grunted ecstatically. 

And the boy sucked on and on. When it was too sweet, Meg tore her lips from 
Don's rock-hard penis and cried out to the sucking boy. "Fuck me, Danny! 
Fuck me before it's too late!" 

Her words reached his lust-crazed brain and he pulled instantly away. Then 
he was lunging at her, stabbing with frenzied thrusts even before his little 
cock had found its way home. 

She reached down and took it. Stuffing it through the moist flanges of her 
pussy, she worked it down into her steaming cunt. Her steaming depth gripped 
him and her tender cunt-walls milked him until he was half-crazed with lust. 

"Fuck off," Don roared to the boy. "Ohhhhhhhh shit, it's so good. Suck me, 
Meg. I'm almost there." 

"Make him cummm, Mama," cried the boy. 

Their sex was lusty and bold, not the tender sweet thing Don had intended, 
but it didn't matter. It was exciting ... exciting for them all. There would 
be a time for the other, but it wasn't now. 

"OHHHHHHHHH! " wailed Don. 

Meg gave his balls one final squeeze and then began siphoning off his load. 
His hot, steaming cum was eagerly swallowed as fast as he could belch it up. 

He was so weak, but he couldn't let go. Panting heavily, he curled around to 
where I could watch the child stab his prick into the dark curly tangle of 
Meg's cunt. 

She was working with him now, thrusting up her hips in a lewd spasmodic 
rhythm of pure sexuality. They pushed, then paused to grind and rub their 
passion flesh together. Danny stabbed his feverish fingerling into the soft 
clinging flesh of her vagina, and Meg's membranes clung to him like a 
million little gripping fingers. 

"Oh, Mama, I'm so hot," the boy whimpered. 

"Screw me, honey," she moaned. "Screw it in good and tight. " 

It's going to be a hell of a life, thought Don. His cock was already 
beginning to swell again. Oh, well, so we fuck each other to death. It's not 
such a bad way to go. 

All pretense of keeping a rhythm disintegrated as they reached the final 
feverish pitch of excitement. The boy humped raggedly, then rubbed and 
ground against Meg in a frenzy of lust. "DO IT!" cried Meg. "Now! NOW!" 

"Ugh! Ugh! UGH!" he grunted. 

His feverish little cock jiggled and bobbed inside of her and then he was 
there. His thick, white cum spurted into her steaming depths to trigger her 
own spectacular crest. Her passion exploded in her brain and her body 
simultaneously, quaking out through her limbs to actually curl her fingers 
and toes. 

Never had Meg known such complete release. With Don to give her mature love 
and the child to fulfill her other needs, Meg was sure she would never have 
to go begging again. 


THE END
