Chapter 13
George looked out of the train window as it sped over the rails, watching the increasing ruggedness of the terrain and the lessening evidence of man's habitation as it headed for Wisconsin's lake district.
Many things had transpired since that fateful night at Helen's. He now was a legend amongst the town's upper crust. Since many of the society females were sadly neglected by their successful husbands who usually dipped their cocks between the glamorous legs of call girls in Cleveland and Chicago rather than their wives', they were thrilled to death when word flashed around like wildfire about the incredible youth that was living with Helen.
As you might assume, no woman could keep a secret of the enormity of that one and soon they were babbling about him to all of their friends. Helen began to have her bridge games more frequently, inviting a different threesome each time. Then her facile mind saw the incredible possibilities in George's male charms. She began to charge for her little bridge games and the price increased in direct proportion to the demand. Word spread to surrounding towns and it got to the point where she almost needed a secretary. Of course she never let George know about this fact, he thinking all along that the great multitude of women who swarmed to Helen's house were all her friends.
She placated the original threesome by inviting them for a game occasionally, free of charge. Of all the women that George came in physical contact with, only Helen and Terry interested him. Helen because of his fetish for huge breasts and kid gloves and Terry for her expertise at sucking cocks.
The following evening after the first bridge game, George had borrowed the car to go to town for a pack of cigarettes. Helen hadn't minded because she wanted him to drop her soiled gloves off at the cleaners. George was a little chagrined because he had hoped that she might wear them for him that night. "Don't worry, baby, I have a shorter pair I can wear for you tonight," she had said. "My sister is going to get me a bunch of pairs for you."
As he stood in the cleaners, embarrassed for fear the proprietress, a well put together red head, might recognize the white stains as semen, she looked down at them, then glanced up at him from under fluttering lids and said softly so that the other people in the shop couldn't hear, "Semen stains don't always come out, you know."
George blushed a deep red and stood speechless, not knowing what to say, the sexy dish taking the occasion to let her eyes wander over his compact body and the big lump in his tight chinos.
"No need to blush about it, sonny," she smiled, taking up an order pad and holding a pencil to it. "We're constantly running into this problem here, men sure are kinda weird, aren't they?"
"I am not ... er ... I mean I don't know how they got stained, they're my mother's," he blurted out.
"Oh really," she said. "And what might your mother's name and address be?"
"Er ... Mrs. Vanarsdale, 24 Concord Drive," he stammered, hoping against hope that she didn't know her.
"Oh REALLY," she exclaimed, her lovely lavender eyes giving a closer inspection, especially around the crotch area. "She never mentioned that she had a son."
"Oh, I've been away at school ... I ... guess that's why."
The shop was deserted now as it was close to closing time. She turned on her stiletto heels and walked towards a back room that was filled to the brim with hanging garments. Never had George seen a finer turned ass, as the meaty buttocks worked beautifully together, calling back over her shoulder to him, "If you'll just come back here a moment, son, I can find out in a moment if they can be cleaned."
George lifted up the hinged counter top and entered the semi darkened room. When he could adjust his eyes to the dimmer light he saw that she wasn't trying cleaning fluid on the gloves as he had expected, rather she was busily engaged in pulling them on over her soft white arms.
"Don't look so startled, sonny," she said. "There's only one thing that might get dried semen stains off kid as exquisite as this."
"Yes and how's that?"
"Fresh semen," she said it as casually as though she were saying ham on rye.
"Fresh SEMEN," George exclaimed, not believing he'd heard right.
"Oh good heavens, but aren't you the excitable one though," she said demurely as she glanced up at him from under heavy aqua tinted lids. "Fresh semen is the only thing that will dissolve dried semen, it loosens it and then we just wash it off. If your er ... mother had thought about it at the time it would have washed right off, but for some reason that escapes me, women never seem to think of it at the time ... I guess they have other things on their minds."
She couldn't suppress a slight smile as she spoke, continuing to tug the tight kid gloves up over her arms. Once this delightful task was completed she proceeded to smooth out the tiny folds and wrinkles till the glove had a lovely sheen up its entire length. She held her arms out from her sides, opening and closing her hands as though she were imaging that she were grasping something and George suddenly thinking how nice it would feel if it were his cock, felt his shaft begin to fatten and lengthen in the tight confines of his chinos.
"W-where will you get this semen? ... you don't have it bottled, do you?" George stammered awkwardly.
"BOTTLED ... oh, son, you're a riot. We don't have any bottled ... where would we find donors," she said, exploding into laughter, her quite formidable breasts, obviously unbrassiered, flopping about in her sweater. Then she quieted suddenly and looked at him steadily. "And you don't expect me to get it from myself, do you? Perhaps you're too young to know, but only men ... and boys, manufacture semen."
"Well where then?"
"From you of course," she said simply.
"From ME-E," George shouted.
"Oh good heavens, of COURSE from you. Now pay attention son, because I'm only going to say this once, it's quitting time and my husband needs to have his dinner cooked. When a man suspects that he might have a venereal disease, he goes to a doctor and the doctor gives him what they call a smear test. That is all I want with you, simply take a smear test from your penis. Believe me I only have a clinical attitude towards this just as the doctor would. I have a virile husband at home who takes care of any thoughts I might have about a penis that doesn't apply to my duties here."
George was beginning to believe her, but somehow the way she kept incessantly opening and closing her gloved hands and a certain undefinable glint in her lovely eyes, he wasn't absolutely convinced.
"Now for heaven's sake stop being silly, son and open up your fly and take out your penis," she said sternly.
George was dumbfounded, despite his night of debauchery with the four socialites, he was still a youth and the natural fears and bashfulness of youth hadn't completely deserted him. With shaking fingers he fumbled at his fly but couldn't seem to manage if.
"Oh here ... let me," she exclaimed impatiently ash she stepped towards him and easily, despite her kid encased fingers, tugged down his zipper. It was extremely cold in the back room and when she reached into his gaping fly and wrapped her gloved fingers around his cock, he jumped from the contact of the ice cold kid on his hot shaft, which by now was almost at full erection.
"Oh I'm sorry, son," she exclaimed, withdrawing her hands. "I'm afraid my hands haven't had time to warm the kid up yet. I'll rub them together a bit, that should do the trick."
She proceeded to rub her hands briskly together, but it seemed to George to be more in glee than anything else as she stared at his great prick jutting out of his open fly. She reached out again and George knew that his suspicions weren't unfounded, for this time her hands were visibly shaking. She took his huge red gland in the palms of both hands and massaged it the way a pitcher does when he breaks in a new baseball.
"I ... I have to rub you a bit to get the semen out," she explained weakly. "I hope you don't mind, son ... you certainly are ... are ... rather large for a boy, aren't you?"
Just as with the four socialites, when he had sensed a weakening in them, a sense of awe at the sight of his great cock, the feeling of great power over the opposite sex flowed into him like warm wine. He hadn't dared use this feeling of domination on the others. But this was different ... a mere shop girl ... she would be the perfect one to try it out on.
"Baby, is the front door locked?" he snapped.
"Y-yes ... how DARE you call me baby?"
"Cut out the crap," he snarled, stepping back so that his cock avoided her clutching gloved fingers. "You know you're just dying to suck the biggest cock you've ever seen."
"H-how did you guess?" she stammered weakly, her words barely audible as she continued to stare at the great, waving prick. "I ... I love to suck men's cocks ... but ... but I've never had a chance at any like yours."
"Tell the truth, you only like to suck boy's cocks, right?"
"H-how did you guess?" she was crying now, her cheeks becoming streaked with mascara. "I don't know what it is about me ... it ... it's the only thing that really thrills me. I went to a psychiatrist once about it, but he was a terrible man. He was fat and obese, with a huge belly and he made me suck him off or he threatened to tell my boss about it."
"Tell me in detail what you did to him," George ordered.
"W-why," she stammered, her lovely, tear-filled eyes looking away from his cock for the first time and staring into his.
"Because I'm telling you to THAT'S why," George snarled.
"C-can I lick your cock a little, while I'm telling you," she asked hopefully.
"No, only afterwards and if your story isn't good enough, if you leave out any details, not even then."
"Oh I'll tell ... I'll tell," she wailed, desperate at the thought that she might not be able to work on George's unequaled tool. "I unzipped his fly for ..."
"C'mon, baby, start at the beginning, when you entered the office," George snapped.
"Oh yes ... well when I entered his office I was disgusted by the mere sight of him. He was short and fat with a little goatee and his bullet shaped head was completely bald. It was a hot summer's day and the coat to his thin summer suit was open and grimy. His great belly protruded out over his belt and his shirt was soaked with sweat. His short, fat legs were spread as wide apart as they could go. His chair was turned away from his desk and I couldn't help but see a big lump by his fly ... "
"Oh come off it, baby," George snapped. "That was the first thing you looked for."
"OH NO ... NO IT WASN'T ... I told you I only like boys. Anyway I foolishly had worn a rather tight, thin dress due to the heat and his little pig eyes seemed to be undressing me garment by garment. He had me lay down on a couch and tell my story. I hesitated at first ... something about the way he was devouring me with his eyes told me not to, but I was so worried about my problem I started and pretty soon I blurted out the whole story. As I talked I kept glancing worriedly out of the corners of my eyes at him ... "
"You were probably worried because he hadn't taken his cock out yet," George interrupted, hating the humiliation that he was putting the poor girl through, but wanting to test his new-found power even more.
"No-No-No-o-o ... it was nothing like that, I couldn't stand him. Anyway as I glanced at him I saw that the lump had grown in his trousers, not outwardly much ... sort of thickened. To my utter horror he reached down and began to massage the lump, then he rose from his seat and waddled over and sat down on the couch beside me ... I was simply terrified. He rested his fat, clammy hand on my knee as I talked and began to slide it upwards under my skirt. I started to get up but he restrained me saying, "Don't be frightened, little lady, this is part of my treatment. He seemed to love the feel of my sheer silk stockings as he continued to run his hand all over them, even snapping my garter straps occasionally. He was making little grunting sounds and sweat was pouring down over his fat jowls ... oh he was terrible ... "
"You liked it, you bitch, didn't you? You liked his hands on your legs ... remember, you're not going to have your delicious supper if you don't tell the truth," George snapped, grasping his thick cock at its base and waving it at her in an obscene way.
"No I didn't, son ... "
"Don't call me son," George snarled. "Did you ever see a cock like this on anyone referred to as son ... from now on you'll call me 'oh-master.'"
"No I didn't, oh master," she answered obediently. "At least I didn't till he stuck his fat finger under the elastic edge of my tight panties and jammed it into my pussy. It was as big as any boy-cock I ever sucked ... I ... I have to admit I did get excited when he wiggled it about in my cunt-hole enthusiastically."
"I knew it ... I knew it," George exclaimed, trying hard to imagine this lovely girl being finger-fucked by an obese little bald headed man. "Go on."
"He continued to wiggle his fat finger in my cunt as he turned and stared with his little pig eyes into mine, saying, "Now little lady, I've had occasion to help lots of confused girls like you. There is, I'm afraid, only one cure for your problem. In order to erase the desire for sucking boy-cock from your mind, you must suck a man-cock ... "
"Ah-HA-A-A," George interrupted. "That's where you got the idea to say that the only way you can get semen off kid gloves is to use fresh semen on the spots, isn't it?" Just as he did, you make believe that you are solving a problem, when all along you know that once you handle a boy's cock-head with the gloves it won't be long before he's dying for you to suck him off ... how many other unsuspecting boys have you used this stunt on?"
" ... I know it's terrible, but quite a few I'm afraid. My problem had always been that I didn't know how to get at a boy's penis without the chance that I might frighten him and send him running to his mother. I used to lay awake nights trying to scheme up ways. When I saw how beautifully his technique worked I realized that I could apply it to my problem. I knew that once I had a boy's penis out of his pants and touched his little head with his mother's kid gloves that then it would be a piece of cake ... ah-h and such delicious cake. His technique solved the problem of getting his penis out of his fly without his suspecting anything until it was too late."
"Wow, but you're a shrewd one, you almost had me fooled, you know, but two little things gave you away ... "
"What were they?" she interrupted. "PLEASE tell me ... I HAVE to know."
"Well first of all you have a habit of licking your lips when you see an erection, as though you were looking at a lollipop."
"Oh good heavens ... I didn't realize."
"Also you keep clenching and unclenching your hands as though you can't wait to get your hands on it, that's a dead giveaway."
"Oh master, I'll never be able to thank you enough," she exclaimed, her hands opening and closing by her sides as she stared greedily at George's immense tool; her tongue flicking rapidly back and forth over her lush lips.
"There, you're doing it again."
"Oh my goodness, I guess I'll have to concentrate ... little habits are hard to break, they say."
"Go on with your story," George said sternly, the domineering tone back in his voice once again.
"Well, when he said that the only cure for me was to suck a man's cock I was terrified, for it was obvious what man's cock he was referring to and I was revolted by the mere thought of it. As much as I enjoy sucking a boy's penis, I absolutely deplore the thought of sucking a man's."
"You know, Miss, it won't be long before I'm a man," George said, as he lewdly waved his juicy cock at her. "What then?"
"W-well ... with you I might make an exception," she said wickedly, for the first time her face breaking into a smile so radiant that it made George suddenly realize that here was truly a beautiful woman.
"Go on with your tale, baby."
"He was getting me a bit excited with his fat finger, somehow making the stale odor of perspiration that enveloped him and his grotesque appearance seem not so bad. It even made me curious to see what that odd-shaped lump in his trousers was caused by. I reached over and grasped the tab to his zipper and pulled it down. I reached inside to take his penis out, fingering my way through the opening in his underpants and discovered to my amazement that he had the fattest penis I had ever touched ... even fatter than yours."
"Impossible," George said proudly.
"Oh yes it was, but that's where the similarity ended, it was shorter than it was thick, only about two inches."
"TWO INCHES?"
"Yes, two inches, or even less ... as I fingered his juicy knob that was about the size of a fully grown orange I realized that his shaft was too short for me to even get it out of his trousers. 'Take off my pants, little lady,' he said suddenly as he unbuckled his belt."
"And you did of course," George said acidly, still not convinced that this beautiful woman hadn't enjoyed the whole scene.
"Of COURSE I did," she exclaimed, tears beginning to fill her lovely eyes up once again. "He was a licensed psychiatrist and I really believed that he was trying to help me, otherwise I would have run from his office and never returned. I unbuttoned his shorts and pulled his pants and shorts down at the same time. Two great, hairy balls tumbled out and hung down over the edge of the couch, fully as large as yours ... then I looked up at his penis and I was horrified by the sight. He had pulled back his suit jacket and unbuttoned his soaked shirt and pulled that back too so that his great belly, covered by a mass of black hair, projected out so far that the shadow it cast almost obscured the stubby thing, the huge, juicy gland glistened redly. Then I noticed a terrible thing ... the great mass of black hair that covered his belly and balls didn't stop there, it ran out onto his fat shaft right up to the knob so that in appearance it seemed as though his great head was glued to his belly ... I was horrified."
"Gosh, it does sound pretty weird at that," George exclaimed.
"Weird isn't the word for it ... anyway he took his finger away from my cunt and held his shaft in his hands, only able to get his thumb and two fingers around it, it was so short. 'Now suck me off, little lady,' he said, his fat wet lips breaking into a smile, exposing an irregular set of cigar-stained teeth, drool dribbling from his mouth. I detested the thought, but willing to do anything if it would solve my problem, I leaned down and opened my mouth to take the huge knob in my mouth, but my head pressed into his great belly and I couldn't reach it. 'Wait, little lady, let me lay down so that you can get at your delicious meal,' he said calmly, picking up a big cigar from a humidor on his desk and lighting it as I arose to make way for him. He lay where I had been, his fat arms above his head as a pillow, puffing great clouds of vile-smelling smoke in the air as he ran his pig eyes over my curves."
"'Never seen a cock like mine ... have ya, little lady?' he said proudly."
"'Never,' I admitted and I wasn't telling a lie."
"I kneeled down on the floor, causing my short skirt to ride high above the tops of my dark nylons and he fingered them idly as I leaned over and slid my lips over his juicy knob. As hairy and terrible as the rest of him was, his head felt smooth and velvety to my lips, not unlike any of the boys I had sucked, but larger, much larger. So large in fact that I had great difficulty in getting the thing into my mouth. Fortunately it was all wet and slippery from his sex juices and it plopped inside. Suddenly I was revolted by the contact of his wiry hair that sprouted on his foreskin, on my lips. Then I realized that the only way I could go through with it was to close my eyes and imagine that it was a youth that I was sucking on. I did and as soon as I did, something clicked in my mind and everything was all right and I really went to work on what was now to me a huge, delicious cock-head. I almost swallowed the great, juicy gland as I slid my eagerly working lips down over his hairy shaft, licking it frantically all the while till the wiry tendrils became wet and silky from my saliva. Now I had the whole fat thing in my hot mouth as I pressed my lips hungrily into the matted hair at his crotch. I reached down and cupped his massive, pendulous balls in my hands and rubbed them together as thought I were kneading a cake mix. I was enjoying it ... Oh how I was enjoying it as I imagined that all of this masculinity belonged to a handsome youth ... then suddenly it hit me like a thunderbolt. Even in my delirium the realization got through to my mind. If the only way I could suck him off was to make believe it was a boy's prick that I held in my mouth, then it wasn't working at all ... it was still a boy that I craved, only more so now, due to his revolting grotesqueness. Now a man would seem more disgusting to me than ever. With a cry of dismay I released his cock and scrambled to my feet, crying that I couldn't go through with it, it just wasn't any good to try. He grabbed my arm and dragged me back down on my knees, snarling, 'Little lady, you'd better suck me off, or there will be lots of mothers of boys in this town and your boss too, who will hear of what's been going on in the back room of the cleaners.' I was stunned, I could report him to the medical board for his blackmail, but what good would that do me once the news was out ... a jail sentence perhaps, humiliation. So I went back to work on his cock ... what else could I do. Once again I imagined that he was a youth and soon I got caught up in my passion once again and finished him off. When I think of how I, a desperate woman with a terrible problem, went to this man for help and rather than helping me he ruined me beyond all repair, it just tortures my soul."
"Whew ... what a story," George exclaimed, compassion for this unfortunate woman flowing over him, replacing the feeling of domination that he had been experimenting with. He would try it again, but only on a mentally healthy victim. "Was that the last you saw of him?"
"No, that's the worst part. Possibly I could have shook off the effects of that one experience, but he forced me to come back repeatedly to service him, always in the same way. Now my hatred for men is so deeply ingrained in my psyche that I know that I'm hopeless."
"Possibly not," George said seriously as he stuffed his cock back in his chinos and zipped up his fly. "In three and a half years I will be twenty-one and a man. I promise you that no matter where I happen to be at the time I will return here and see if I can't get you interested in a man."
He quietly closed the door behind him and her sobs seemed to follow him as he walked solemnly down the street.