Chapter 5
Luckily it was Saturday, because after the ordeal that she had gone through the night before, Carol never could have made it to school. After she finally was showered and dressed, Olivia drove her home in her VW. On the way, the teacher asked, "Is your mother likely to ask any questions about where you spent the night?"
Carol shook her head. She was too tired and worn out, every square inch of her anatomy too achy and sore, for her to even begin to have the strength to fib. She said, "She'll think I spent the night with a girlfriend. Mother doesn't keep very close tabs on me."
"Good," Olivia said as she reached over and placed a hand on Carol's bare thigh and gave it a loving squeeze, which Carol was too weary to even notice. "If you're smart, you'll say nothing to her, or anyone else about what happened last night. First of all, it would only be your word against mine-the word of a student against her teacher. And just in case anyone did believe you, it could cause an awful lot of trouble for you, as well as me. In fact, they just might put you away for quite a long time ... especially if I told them about the man you visit. Understand, my darling?" Carol nodded.
When they got to the house where Carol lived and Olivia pulled the car to a halt in front of the door, the teacher glanced out of the car at all sides to make sure that no one was watching. Then she pulled the girl close to her and kissed her on the lips.
"Umm-you make me feel so horny, darling," Olivia whispered as she drew back from Carol, her eyes hot, her breathing heavy. "I wish the night were just starting instead of ending."
Not for Carol! Before the woman could get any ideas about continuing it, Carol slapped open the car door and jumped out onto the sidewalk. She didn't linger long enough to turn, or even say goodbye. She ran up the few short steps to the front door, opened it and hurried inside. After she closed the door behind her, she leaned back with her back against it and closed her eyes. She stayed there for long moments until the seething inside her quieted sufficiently. Then she went to her room, without even bothering to look in on her mother who was sleeping soundly after an arduous night of her own. Carol undressed quickly, mechanically, and got into bed.
Her breasts, her vagina, her anus-every part of her hurt, making her uncertain as to whether it was one big ache, or a lot of little ones. She couldn't help but wonder if, after the night before, she would ever be the same again? The last thing that she promised herself before she fell onto deep, welcome sleep, was that no matter what-she was never going to let it happen again!
Olivia Grant, however, was of a different opinion. On Monday, despite Carol's efforts to avoid her, even to the extent of skipping her class, the woman managed to corner her.
"I want you to be at my house again tonight for another study session," the teacher said. "Simon has been asking for you, darling."
Carol shivered at the thought of being exposed to the woman's sex-crazed brother again. But she made no reply. As far as "studying" was concerned, Olivia had assured her that she need have no worry about passing, that as long as she did what was required of her sexually, Olivia would make sure that she got a passing grade.
Even at the risk of arousing her anger and causing the woman to flunk her, Carol didn't go to the Grants' home that night, nor did she go there on any of the succeeding nights that Olivia invited her. Consequently, Olivia kept getting angrier and angrier, until she became absolutely infuriated with Carol's noncompliance with her instructions and demands. Finally, one afternoon, after school, Olivia took herself to the downtown Milwaukee department store, where Carol's mother worked. She introduced herself and, pretending that she had Carol's best interests at heart, she told her mother that if she thought anything of her daughter's welfare, she would check very carefully on what the girl did with her afternoon after school was over.
More for her own benefit than for Carol's, fearful that if her daughter was doing anything wrong and should get into any trouble, it might get back to the store management and cause her to lose her job, Emily Francis decided to take the school teacher's advice and do a little investigating. So the very next day, she stayed home from work without Carol knowing, of course. At three o'clock, she went to the high school that Carol attended and waited until the girl came out. Then, without letting Carol see her, Emily followed her daughter home, watched her go directly to Mr. Lecheur's apartment. So far, she had seen Carol do nothing wrong. But when Carol failed to come out long after the allotted time that it would take her to do her chores, Emily decided to have a look-see for herself.
She tried the door to Mr. Lecheur's apartment and found that Carol had neglected to lock it after her. It would have made little difference. All the locks in the house were alike. A single key would open any of them.
Emily pushed open the door, quietly, and stepped into the living room. No one was there. She paused a moment and listened. She heard grunts and sighs coupled with obscene wet sloshing sounds coming from the bedroom. They grew louder as she tiptoed stealthily toward the bedroom door, where she halted on the threshold with a silent gasp, her eyes focused on the two stark-naked figures on the bed. One of them, Emily recognized at once, was Carol, sprawled out to her full-length on her back. The other was Mr. Lecheur. lying atop her, sandwiched between her splayed legs, his bony ass bouncing up and down like a partly deflated pink beach ball, as his man-sized cock went in and out her young cunt wetly.
Emily would have called out and stopped them, or she could have stepped forward and given him a resounding slap across the buttocks that would have made his cock shrivel. But Emily had a mild sadistic streak in her and she wasn't about to let him off that easily-in such a routine manner. Without either of them seeing, or hearing her, she moved to the side of the bed, reached between his skinny legs and grasped his dangling balls. She gave them a wicked squeeze, then pulled back hard and cruelly on them, yanking his fat cock, inflamed and glistening with cunt juice, from her daughter's yawning, suctioning pussy.
Mr. Lecheur let out a wild yell of pain and turned his head to see who had hold of his balls. "Mrs. Francis!" he gasped shrilly.
Carol's eyes popped open. "Mother!"
Emily gave Mr. Lecheur's scrotum another painful yank and his cock started to shrink away like a popsickle exposed to searing sun rays. "You dirty old son-of-a-bitch!" She railed at him. "Screwing a sixteen-year-old kid!"
"My balls!" Mr. Lecheur cried out, piteously. "Oh, God! My balls! Let go! You're killing me!"
"I've got a good mind to pull 'em right off you," Emily blazed, giving them another cruel tug. "For what you're doing to my daughter."
"Mother, please!" Carol cried out as she jackknifed up on the bed and brought her legs together. "It's my fault as much as his."
"You keep your filthy little mouth closed and get off that bed and upstairs," her mother barked angrily.
Carol obeyed at once. She crawled quickly to the far side of the bed, slipped off it and without even bothering to pick up her clothes hurried through the apartment and upstairs.
Emily waited until the girl was gone. Then she let go of Mr. Lecheur's testicles, but as they swung down between his thighs, she gave them a vicious slap that made the poor man fall backwards onto the bed, curled up in a fetal position, yowling like a banshee with its tit caught in a vise.
"You horny old bastard," she spit at him, without even a trace of compassion. Don't think I'm through with you. I'm gonna see you spend the rest of your rotten days behind bars, where you belong."
Then, without further ado, she turned and went after Carol. When she got there, she slammed the door and followed the girl into her bedroom. When Carol tried to speak, her mother struck her cruelly across the mouth.
"A fine goddamn daughter you turned out to be," the woman stormed, her mouth ugly, her eyes filled with contempt, using words that Carol had never even heard before. "There I am, working my ass off in a stinky department store, trying to see that you get a decent upbringing-and all the while you're peddling your young ass. How many others have there been?"
"None," Carol cried, tears bubbling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. She didn't want to tell her mother about Olivia Grant and her brother. She was afraid of repercussions. Besides, none of that had been her fault.
"And how long has that dirty old bastard downstairs been fucking you?" her mother demanded.
"Since I first started going down there, when he broke his leg," Carol replied truthfully.
"So that's why he's been giving you all those dresses and things, I suppose?" Emily guessed.
Carol wagged her head, timidly. She was glad that her mother didn't ask her if Mr. Lecheur ever gave her any money, in addition to the clothes. She had managed to save almost two hundred dollars of that money and she knew that if her mother found out about it, she would have to give it to her. Not that she wanted to hold out on her mother, but that fifteen dollars that Mr. Lecheur was paying her to take care of his apartment was going to her mother and she never saw one penny of it. She felt that that was a fair enough division of the spoils.
Her mother didn't say very much more to Carol after that. She simply told the girl that she didn't want her to visit Mr. Lecheur's apartment, alone, ever again. Then she left her daughter and went to her room. Carol would have been quite amazed at what transpired after her mother got there, or what was going on inside her mother's mercenary brain.
First of all, Emily stripped off every article of clothing that she was wearing. Then she went into the bathroom and showered, stayed under the hot spray until her body took on a pink glow. After she dried herself off, she powdered herself down, sprayed herself with her most exotic perfume and roughed her nipples and the outer lips of her vagina. Then she combed out her hair, that naturally was as black as her daughter's, but rather than dye the few gray hairs that were starting to show, she had bleached it ash-blonde. When her toilet was quite completed, she studied herself in the full-length mirror in the bathroom.
Despite her thirty-odd years, Emily Francis was remarkably well-preserved. Her face was still youthful and free of wrinkles. Her body that followed the same lines as her daughter's hadn't an excess ounce of flesh any place on it. In fact, she weighed only a few pounds more than she did when she was Carol's age. Her breasts, like her daughter's, were things of beauty, high and lush, with not a trace of sag or flab in them. Yes, Emily had good reason to be very proud of her figure and, as always, she had decided to use it to full advantage.
She took a transparent, black negligee from the closet in her bedroom, toed into a pair of black, patent-leather spike heels, made sure that everything was in order, and then she quietly proceeded downstairs to Mr. Lecheur's apartment and tapped lightly on the door. She waited a moment, then the door opened.
Mr. Lecheur had put on his flannel bathrobe and slippers. His face drained of color when he saw her. He started to say something in the way of an apology, but she interrupted and asked, "May I come in?"
He swallowed uneasily and opened the door wider so that she could enter. She could feel his eyes following the sensuous movements of her backside as she walked across the living room and sat on the divan in front of her. She crossed her legs at the knees so that the negligee fell open in front, showing him plenty of shapely bare thighs. She could see his cock stir under the front of his bathrobe.
He's a horny old bastard, all right, she thought to herself. But that was good She couldn't understand why she had overlooked him before. Never even considered him.
"I'm sorry about the way I acted before," she said softly. "But Carol is just a child. I only hope I didn't hurt you too badly."
"It hurt pretty bad for a while," Mr. Lecheur affirmed. "But it's okay now."
"Are you sure?" Emily asked with feigned concern. "Let me see and make sure."
Whether or not he would have even tried to stop her, before he realized it, Emily had put her hands on his hips and pulled him toward her. Then she unbelted his bathrobe and threw it open. His hardened cock jumped out and stood vibrating before her face at a forty-five-degree angle.
The next thing he knew, her hand was between his thighs, cupping his balls and lifting them, very tenderly this time.
"I'm sorry," she said to his testicles as if they were capable of understanding her. "I didn't mean to hurt you." She brought them nearer to her mouth and kissed them, licking lightly all over them, with his cock throbbing directly above her. Then she took one of his testicles, then the other into her mouth, very, very gently, rolling them, around on her tongue. As she let them slip out of her mouth, she looked up at him and said, "It was mean of me, too, to interrupt what I did. I know how very frustrating it is to a man. I want to make it up to you."
Slowly she ran her tongue upward along the underside of his rampant prick, licked the ooze from the head of it, then took it into her mouth. Emily loved sucking cock and therefore had mastered the technique. She kept applying more and more suction to it as she let it slide deeper into her throat, her tongue never idle for a moment, until he was ready to spill. Even then she kept sucking and licking, all through his throbbing climax, never letting go until all the cum was out of him and down into her belly. Only then, did she let his limp tool slip from her mouth as she threw open her negligee and leaned back against the divan and looked up at him.
"What you want is a woman, Mr. Lecheur," she said. "Not a sixteen-year-old girl. From now on, I'm going to personally take care of all your needs-as a dutiful wife should."
His face blanched and his eyes grew wide. "Wife?"
She smiled. "But of course. What else? You don't think I'd be so concerned about a man who wasn't going to be my husband, do you?"
"But I don't have any plans to marry," he said. "For more than fifty years-"
Her smile deepened, "You've managed to steer clear of marriage, I know. But now all that's ended. You and I are going to be married just as soon as we can."
"Oh, no, we're not!" he insisted.
Her eyes narrowed just a little and her smile turned icy, her voice firm and authoritative. "Either that, Mr. Lecheur, or you go to prison for statutory rape ... and just in case you aren't up on your facts and figures ... in the state of Wisconsin statutory rape carries a maximum sentence of thirty-five years."