Chapter 8
Frank allegedly worked late again that night, and Carol was so exhausted she was sound asleep when he finally came home. Somehow she had managed to get through dinner without revealing to the children that she had watched them that afternoon.
The next morning, Frank was buried in his newspaper as usual. Halfway through breakfast he suddenly broke the silence and asked Carol about her golf lesson.
Carol jumped as if she'd touched a live wire. "Wh . . .,what do you mean?" She cursed silently, reminding herself that he was fully as guilty as she.
"I was just wondering how you're doing. Learning anything?"
She took a deep breath, relieved that he suspected nothing. "Oh, I'm learning, slowly but surely," she replied. "I'm no Ben Hogan, of course, but I'm having a good time."
"Well, that's the main thing," Frank observed. He folded the paper, gave her a perfunctory kiss and picked up his brief-case. "Don't wait up; I'll probably be pretty late again tonight."
"Some special project on?" she asked innocently.
Frank didn't notice the slight acid in her voice. "Yeah, the boss has a special sales incentive idea."
"I see. Don't work too hard." Carol had to fight to keep her voice from betraying her.
Just after he shut the front door behind him, the children came clattering down the stairs.
"Hi, Mom." Pam gave Carol a peck on the cheek. Jack, as usual, scooped up the paper and turned to the sports section. His lack of attention at breakfast was inherited from his father, Carol decided grimly.
"Anything special on for today?" Carol asked casually as she dished up their breakfast.
"Nope," Jack said from behind the paper.
"Slow day today," Pam added.
Carol wondered how to approach her daughter, then decided on a frontal attack. "Pam, before you go dashing off anywhere, I'd like to have a talk with you."
The blonde girl looked up, plainly worried. "Did I do something wrong?"
Carol tried to smile reassuringly. "No, of course not. I just want to talk with you."
"Okay," Pam said, looking at her mother quizzically.
"Does that include me?" Jack mumbled around a mouthful of breakfast.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Carol said automatically. "No. You can go and do whatever you want."
He smiled in relief. "That's good. Think I'll go help Ben with his car."
"Well, wear your old clothes. I don't want you getting the ones you're wearing all greasy."
"Okay, I'll change." Jack bolted down the rest of his meal and went upstairs. Five minutes later he ran down the stairs and out the door. Without checking, Carol knew he had left clothes scattered wildly around his room.
"What'd you want to talk with me about?" Pam asked.
"Wait 'til I get some coffee," Carol said, stalling. She fiddled with her cup and the pot for a bit, trying to buy time. Finally deciding she could put things off no longer, she poured her coffee and sat down opposite her daughter. As she stared into her cup she could feel Pam's curious gaze.
"You're getting to be quite a shapely young lady, aren't you?" Carol finally observed awkwardly.
Pam glanced down at her chest. Her breasts were again unconfined by a bra, and the blouse she was wearing was too small. Her nipples were tiny peaks under the strained cloth. "Yeah, ain't it groovy?"
"Isn't it groovy," Carol corrected her. "I suppose you can regard it that way. I imagine boys are getting pretty interested in you."
"Are they ever!" Pam said enthusiastically.
Carol took a deep breath and plunged on. "I know it's flattering, but you know there are dangers, don't you?"
"What do you mean?"
Carol toyed with her cup. "I mean that girls are the ones who get pregnant. The boys don't have to worry about it."
Pam looked at her mother carefully. "You have to go pretty far to have to worry about that," the girl observed cautiously.
"I know," Carol replied. She eyed the thirteen-year-old very carefully. There was a self-assurance, a maturity in Pam's eyes that Carol had not noticed before. Carol reminded herself that at thirteen, her daughter knew more about sex than Carol had when she married Frank. Carol drew a deep breath and rushed on. "Pam, I ... I don't know for sure just how far you've already gone. I do know, though, that things today are a lot different for you than they were for me at your age. No, don't interrupt. As I just said, I don't know how far you've gone. One thing I'd like to know, though, is, are you a virgin?"
Pam was obviously impressed by the seriousness of her mother's tone. She didn't hesitate with her answer, nor reply with excessive vigor. "Yes, I'm still a virgin."
Carol gave a big sigh. "Good. Oh, I don't mean 'good you're still a virgin,' " Carol amended, "I mean, good, I'm talking to you in time."
"What do you mean?" Pam asked, puzzled. "You mean it's not good to be a virgin?"
Carol smiled. "It used to be a necessity in my day. However, it's neither good nor bad to be a virgin. Like a lot of things in this world, it's simply a fact. No, I'm just glad that I can give you a little advice and help while you still need it."
"I don't get it." Pam sounded completely confused.
"I'm not communicating very well, am I? I know you're going to lose your virginity sooner or later, probably sooner. I just wanted to tell you that with the right boy, it can be a wonderful experience, but with the wrong one it can be quite painful and unpleasant."
"I know," Pam said. "I've done some reading about it."
"You know what I'm talking about then. You've been seeing a lot of Ben, and he's a nice boy. But, he's very young and probably very inexperienced." Carol noted the agreement in Pam's eyes. "For those reasons, I don't think he's the one who should introduce you to sex."
"I see. Who'd you have in mind?"
The directness of Pam's question caught Carol off guard. She fumbled for words, and finally asked, "What makes you think I'd know of someone?"
Pam shrugged. "It's hardly a topic you'd bring up without having given it a lot of thought. I figured you had a candidate for the job."
Knowing Pam was usually turned off by her suggestions; Carol hadn't planned on suggesting anyone, though she had decided that Mike Santucci was the ideal person. The problem was to handle it in such a way that both he and Pam would feel natural about it.
"Mike Santucci is an awfully nice boy," Carol observed tentatively. "And I imagine he's experienced."
"Is he ever! Mike doesn't talk about his girls, but everyone knows. But he'd never be interested in me. He's eighteen."
Carol smiled. "Oh, I think under the proper circumstances you might be able to catch his interest."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, there's no reason you couldn't try to seduce him. You have the equipment."
Pam looked down at her bust. "I guess you're right."
"Once you get their juices flowing, men don't care how old you are," Carol observed. "But, think it over. I'm not trying to throw you into someone's arms. Now, there's one little problem."
"What's that?" Pam asked.
"As I said, girls do get pregnant, so you should have some kind of protection before you go roaring into bed with someone."
Pam suddenly clammed up, plainly upset. She fumbled with a spoon on the table, not meeting her mother's eyes. "Promise not to kill me?" she finally pleaded.
Puzzled, Carol agreed.
"I've been on the Pill for six months," Pam confessed in a rush.
Carol's heart stopped beating; then she leaned back in her chair and laughed. She managed to choke down her laughter, feeling Pam's eyes on her. "I should have known there was a reason for your sudden blossoming. I won't ask how you managed to get a prescription without my signature. I imagine someone stood in for me."
Pam nodded.
Carol sobered up. "I'm sorry; it's just such a relief. I'm not happy you went behind my back, but I guess you had your reasons. I hope you won't do it again."
Pam smiled Weakly. "I'm sorry, Mom. It's just that you've been kind of hard to talk to lately, and I was afraid you'd take it wrong. I got them just in case."
"Is Linda on the Pill, too?" Pam nodded. "Yes, why?"
"Just curiosity," Carol lied. "Now, get out of here before I start bawling for your lost youth." Pam got up from the table. Carol looked up and met her daughter's blue eyes. "Thanks, Mom," Pam whispered. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Carol said, fighting back tears. "Now, get out of here." Carol gazed fondly after her daughter as Pam went upstairs.
Carol took a deep breath, blew it out in relief and began to clean up the kitchen. After getting the dishwasher started, she got out the phone book and looked up "Santucci". There was only one listing.
"Mike Santucci, please. This is Mrs. Anderson." The woman who answered the phone had a thick accent. A few minutes later the boy was on the line.
"I'm sorry; did I wake you, Mike?" Carol asked.
"No, Mrs. Anderson. What can I do for you?" Mike asked, plainly puzzled and a bit worried.
Carol thought quickly. Mike's mother might be on an extension, so she had to handle this carefully. "You know the fish pond you've been working on for us, Mike? Well, I really think it needs a little more work. Would you be able to come over this afternoon?"
"Certainly, Mrs. Anderson," Mike agreed. He seemed to understand exactly what she was driving at. "What time should I come?"
"I'm kind of busy this morning," Carol replied. "How about two o'clock?"
"Fine. I'll be there."
After hanging up, Carol made a final pass at the kitchen, planning how to get Pam and Jack out of the way. She remembered that they had been interested in seeing a double feature downtown, and decided today was a good day for that. Humming to herself and quivering with anticipation, Carol bustled around the house straightening up. A ball of desire was flickering to life as she worked. All her reservations about cheating on her husband had been blasted to fragments by George's revelations. Carol was going to screw around now and planned to enjoy every minute of it.
By one-thirty, Jack and Pam were happily embarked on the trip downtown. Carol, her worries eased after the talk with Pam, was happy that Ben and Linda went along. Carol realized that she had been nagged by those formless worries of a mother for a daughter, and that now they were gone. In the few minutes before Mike was due, she straightened up the basement playroom, setting out glasses, ice and Vodka just in case it was wanted. Checking herself in the mirror, she decided against any make-up.
When she greeted Mike at the door, she was wearing a robe. Underneath, she wore the same daring bikini he had removed from her the last time. She had no excuse for the outfit, but needed none.
"Hi, Mrs. Anderson, what's the problem with the pond?" Mike asked. His smile was angled slightly by nervous bravado.
"Come in out of the heat," she invited him. "I thought we could discuss it downstairs, rather than out in the hot sun."
Carol's gut was aching with desire as she led him down to the playroom. She left him for a moment to turn on the radio. This time the station was of her choosing, one that specialized in pleasantly soft background music. She turned to find Mike awaiting her in the middle of the floor.
"Let me get rid of this robe," she told him, her voice husky and tense. She shucked off the garment and carefully walked over to hang it up, feeling his eyes on her. Every inch of her burned with excitement as she walked back to him. He was wearing a T-shirt of a wide-open knit, actually a net, that hugged his muscular, tanned torso. His pants were skintight, the growing bulge of his cock obvious at his groin. He stood like a Roman god as she walked up to him. She looked into his dark, burning eyes, and inside she burst into flame. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled his head down. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, moving against each other with a soft firmness that set both of them ablaze. His tongue touched her lips and she opened her mouth to it. He tasted as she remembered, warm and masculine. A slight aroma of garlic added incredible spice to the kiss and she inhaled excitedly. His hands were hard and strong on her back, scraping over her sensitive skin. The net of his shirt cut a pattern into her belly as they crushed together. For a long time she clung to him, feeling the incredible heat of his body against hers, thrilling to his muscular hardness.
Eventually, she pushed herself away from him, holding him at a distance as he tried to reach for her again. "Wait," she ordered. "This is just a good fuck, understand? No commitments, no love, no promises, right?"
Puzzled, he nodded. "Sure."
"I just wanted to make sure," she told him. "Now watch."
Slowly, she let her body begin to sway to the music. The clinging bikini hugged every one of her charms, displaying them to great advantage. She watched his eyes as they feasted on her incredible body, and the excitement in her expanded slowly. He took a hesitant step toward her and she pushed him back. "Just watch," she said again. She let her instincts take over moving her hips, legs and arms in sensuous patterns that came naturally to her, patterns as old as the first fertility rites. The bulge in his pants grew rapidly.
Without breaking the flow of her moves, she said, "Those clothes look uncomfortable. Why don't you take them off?"
He didn't answer, quickly ripping the shirt off, kicking away his shoes and unfastening his pants. In a second he was naked, his big cock free and swaying. The sight of his naked body set Carol afire with lust. She felt like an animal in heat as she danced for the youth. "Strip me," she said hoarsely, knowing he would understand. He reached for the bra and gripped the flimsy material between the cups. A single wrench of his powerful hand ripped the garment from her, the fabric burning her skin as it was torn away. She danced for him still, her breasts swaying excitingly free, the nipples as hard as rocks. He grabbed the waist of her panties and she braced her feet for the jerk. The last covering she wore disintegrated with one powerful pull.
He was as excited as she was, and bore down on her. She flung herself into his arms and he threw her to the floor. The rough fabric of the gym mats burned her buttocks as he drove her along them. His cock was as ready as her cunt and speared to the heart of her as she threw her legs wide to receive him. She sank her teeth into his shoulder as he pistoned his cock into her hot vagina. They were both too hot to wait, climaxing quickly together, Carol's cunt spasming around his cock, milking every last jet of sperm from him. The screwing was over in seconds, leaving them both panting for breath.
Finally, Mike rolled off her and lay on his back, hands behind his head. "You're a good fuck, Mrs. Anderson."
"Carol," she corrected him. She felt pleased, and still horny at the same time. "You're a good fuck, too."
For a while they lay side by side on the mats, rebuilding their strength. Carol rolled to her feet and offered the youth a drink.
"Just a ginger ale, thanks. No vodka this time."
She tunred on him, Surprised. "You knew?"
Mike shrugged. "You might have gotten away with less vodka. You must have had at least two shots in those glasses."
Shaking her head, Carol poured him a ginger ale and herself a plain tonic. Naked and graceful, she sank to the mat next to him and handed him his glass. He rolled up on one elbow and sipped his drink. His cock was half-erect, draped casually across one of his hairy thighs. He studied her carefully. "What makes you tick?" he asked eventually.
She looked into his dark eyes. "Let's just say I like a good fuck," she replied.
Mike shook his head. "From someone my age, I might accept that. But from someone from your usually uptight age, it doesn't ring true."
"Does it bother you?"
"No, just puzzles me," he observed.
"Let's just leave it that I like a good fuck then.
What makes you tick?"
"Hell, you're a beautiful woman. I'd have to be either queer, crazy or a damn fool not to take what you offer."
"Am I as beautiful as your girl friends?"
Mike nodded. "In a different way, you are," he acknowledged.
"Have you ever had a virgin?" Carol asked.
"Uh-huh, several times. Why?"
"Did you like it?"
Mike shrugged. "It's all right. You have to be careful how you treat them, though."
"And you know how to treat them?"
Mike looked embarrassed. "I don't know. I like to think I do. I've never had any complaints. Besides, if it isn't fun for them, it isn't much fun for me."
"That's an unusual attitude."
"Is it? It's just the way I am."
Carol set her glass aside and stretched out comfortably on her back. "Show me how you'd make love to a virgin," she challenged him.
"Right now?"
"Why not? I haven't been treated like a virgin in a good many years," Carol replied.
"Okay, why not?" Mike agreed. "First of all, I'd start out real slow, so's not to scare you. You know, a lot of kissing and stuff."
"Show me."
The Italian youth bent toward her, his kiss warm and soft, tender and undemanding. The first touch of his lips reminded Carol of those days long ago on the front porch of her parents' house. She tried to respond as she had then, nervously, tensely, bubbling with the thrill of discovery. Mike's lips moved on hers, and she felt her body responding in the exciting way it had so long ago. Even naked as she was, Carol was recapturing a part of her lost youth. His tongue gently touched her lips and she let him pry them open a tiny bit, let him taste her teeth, then met his tongue with her own. Slowly she let her mouth open to him, amazed at the young man's self-control and tenderness. Carol's heart began to flutter with excitement and her nipples stiffened slightly.
Mike moved carefully and slowly, one hand stroking her ribs reassuringly, his thumb just pressing against the base of one soft mound, making Carol simmer slightly. He was matching his moves to her passions, urging her onward ever so gently. Carefully, as if handling fragile china, he cupped her breast, squeezing it gently. Her nipple poked into the palm of his hand, and his fingers sought out the rosy bud. He tugged at it gently, sending a jolt of heat through Carol. He'd done all this without breaking the kiss. Finally he pulled his lips from hers and traced a nibbling line over her cheek to her ear. Then he breathed into its curves gently, and Carol dissolved into a helpless, quivering mass.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes," she whispered. She felt weak, powerless, as he gradually stirred her passions. Her hand had a life of its own and sought out his cock and wrapped around the hard mass. She pumped his prick gently as he traced a line of kisses down to her breasts. Taking first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth, he teased the little buds erect, then sucked at them. Carol's passions began to roar. She needed something at her cunt, but wasn't aware of his hand until it got there and cupped her mound, his finger probing between her legs. Her pubic hair was already moist with their juices, and his finger easily found her vagina, slipping inside so gently that Carol was hardly aware of its intrusion. Her cunt demanded more than one finger, and he seemed to sense it, slipping another inside, increasing Carol's joy. He played with her like that for long minutes, until her juices were pouring forth in a flood of ecstasy. Her hips began to roll restlessly with a life of their own, and Mike matched her moves with pleasure from his hand until Carol was near a climax.
He pulled away, and Carol looked up into his dark eyes, sensing his question and answering it with her own eyes. Slowly, as if he were stalking some terribly timid animal, Mike moved his body over hers, easing her thighs apart with his knees, lowering himself into place. With his hand he guided his cock to her vagina and nestled the head at her entrance. She jerked with joy as he gently moved it against her, increasing her passion skillfully. Then he slid the big rod inward, gently, just inside the lips, as if searching for the barrier a virgin would have. He carried the game to the hilt, ramming his hips forward quickly as if to burst the hymen quickly. Past the imaginary barrier now, he slowly stroked deeper and deeper into Carol, gradually stretching her cunt open with his big staff until he reached bottom. Once there, he paused, then began to piston in and out of her, slowly and gently at first, but ever quickening. He twisted his body to give Carol the greatest possible stimulation, and paid close attention to her feelings. He seemed totally devoted to raising her to a climax, and easily succeeded, leaving Carol gasping as her orgasm broke over her in a huge wave.
He froze until it died away, then began to move again. Keeping his moves gentle, he brought them both to a climax this time, leaving Carol exhausted and gasping as his cock jetted wads of hot sperm into her for the second time that afternoon. They clung tightly together as the waves of pleasure gradually subsided, eventually leaving them fulfilled and breathing heavily.
Still moving gently, he rolled off her, his cock trailing a sticky, gleaming string of cum across one of her thighs. "Like that," he told her.
"Beautiful," Carol complimented him. She was amazed that someone as young as he could be so incredibly skillful and experienced in loving. He made Frank seem as clumsy as a drunken elephant, and the golf pro a rank amateur. She dozed easily, pleased with the warm feeling of the boy beside her.