Chapter 3
Jean's cheeks were flushed, and it wasn't from jogging, thought Terri. All the same, the young brunette turned on her humble pie sweetness and nodded attentively to the instructions her big brother's wife laid out in her crisp fashion.
"Don't leave the shop, even if it's to buy a pack of cigarettes," she added curtly. "Finish the inventory on the shoes. I'm going back to the sauna for a few minutes. You got that?"
"Yes, Jean," she replied, shooting her sister-in-law her most convincing smile of compliance, though she couldn't help the tiny knot of uneasiness in the pit of her belly. She had seen Gordy walking Jean back to the sports shop and the look on his face was no less confused than when she'd caught him playing boy-cock games in the weeds while she batted a few tennis balls around the court in solo. Though he'd sworn by his life's blood that he'd keep their secret if she promised not to tell the coach on him, she wondered if the little squirt's blood hadn't thinned to water.
In this dumpy town you had to take what you could get, and a girl accustomed to the carnal selection offered by Chicago's big town sophistication, could get awfully bored. She never thought she'd have to resort to Playgirl magazine to get her juices flowing . . . much less what happened yesterday.
Damn, she cursed inwardly after Jean had haughtily tripped out, watching the hung-up blonde's full rounded buttocks swaying beneath her tight running shorts. With all her luscious bumps and curves, she had nothing going for her in the sack. In the week that Terri had been there, not once had she seen Jean put on a lusty show worthy of a wife-no lingerie, no mouth action. And she ought to know, having spent night after night with her eye to the old fashioned key hole. Of course brother Ralph was no stud prize either, the way he mamby pambied around the bedroom. Especially this morning-boy, that was one for 'Rippley's Belief It Or Not!'
But that was a closed case at the moment. If somehow Jean did find out what had happened between Gordy and herself (and Jean had a geiger counter nose when it came to sniffing out rich gossip) things might get a little testy around the sports shop, to say nothing of what brother Ralph might say to their parents! Dammit, if she were only of age, she would tell them all to go to hell and move to Los Angeles and be free of this small town bullshit. But, she was trapped here in this boring town. Only one thing was keeping her spirits from the pits: Tod Baker. Wow, what a hunk of male meat! She had only to think of him and tingles just wound around her goose bumped spine.
The curvy teenager glanced at the fat-faced clock on the wall. Tod promised to drop in a little later. Well, maybe he'd bring a joint or two and a can of beer to slice the boredom. Tod had been around the country hitchhiking and she loved to hear his stories about being free and out on the road and crashing in LA and snorting cocaine in San Francisco-all the things she craved to do the minute she grabbed her high school diploma from her father, the school superintendent's, hand.
But she hoped he wouldn't bring that retard Otis along with him. The guy was a slobbery oof, always trailing after Tod. And how could she reach the zenith with that creep around? Damn . . . nothing was going right today. First Jean screaming and yelling about her blowing a little pot and sticking her finger up her pussy. Was that so bad? Christ, you would've thought she'd blown the local pastor by the way Jean had come down on her.
Well, to hell with it! She'd better get counting those shoe boxes and hope that Gordy didn't unwind his tongue. And dammit, Jean, I used to like you. . . but I'm going to get even with you for making my life miserable!
Then Terri's vindictive thoughts faded as she looked out the plate-glass store window with Henderson's Sporting Goods scrawled in red letters and saw the long-haired, mustached Tod taking long strides across the street. Tod-man, what a stud! His Nordic blonde hair reminded her of the centerfold from Playgirl Magazine and that set her imagination a stir. As he walked, her eyes riveted on the bulging vee of his loins and a tingle of expectancy rippled through Terri's ripe body.
In the back storage room where boxes of merchandise were piled high against the walls and a Coke machine sat nearby, Jean reached into her jogging shorts pocket for change and slipped them into the machine. Next to her Gordy sat on a Wilson rackets box, his hands folded in his lap, cheeks flushed with uncertainty.
Jean was in a heady state. She refused to think. Whatever was happening it was exotically breathtaking, and she wanted to savor the feeling, the lewd deliciousness of ripe curiosity.
"Dr. Pepper or Coke, Gordy?"
"I'll have a Dr. Pepper, Ma'am. . . " came the small voice. Inside, he knew that no guy had ever gotten himself in the bag more than he was now. Having secrets with the coach's wife was okay, and man, she always smelled so nice . . . but he had promised Terri. . . and he really hadn't minded doing it to her.. . but telling on the team, that was sticky business.
"Here we go, darling," said Jean, handing him a freezing can of Dr. Pepper. "I think we'd better go into the sauna room . . . so
Terri can't hear what we're talking about. Come on . . . follow me."
He did, looking around the small, wood-paneled room that smelled of moist wood. He sat down on the long wooden plank next to the coach's wife.
"Don't be nervous," she said softly, feeling that maternal desire to have a child entrust her.
"I'm not nervous," he half-blurted.
"I want you to understand that I'm doing this for your good and for the team's, Gordy. If I'm going to help coach you, I have to know you boys' interests and what's important to you. We've all got to work together if we're going to have a good summer season, don't you agree?"
Her reasoning was irrefutable.
Gordy sighed deeply, feeling rather claustrophobic in the tiny room with just the glass window for distraction, and that looked out into the storeroom. "Well.. . well.. . all of the guys do it once in a while. . . " He dared not look at her as he spoke.
In her mind, Jean envisioned the biggest of the team's young stallions, two years older than the young innocent darling she was holding snugly against her hip and thigh, his smooth flushed cheek nearly touching the firm rounded mound of her full breast. "And . . . what does he do?"
"He.. . he plays with it. Sometimes he gets dirty pictures and looks at 'em while he's doing it."
"Pictures. . . ? How strange."
"Sometimes he imagines that he's putting it inside the girl in the magazine and closes his eyes and tries to feel it."
"S-sticks it in . . . where?" Jean probed, holding his youthful body even tighter against her until his cheek actually pressed against the yielding swell of her tingling breasts. She sensed that warm flow of moisture between her legs growing more profuse and she couldn't resist squeezing her thighs together in a heated massage.
"In . . . in her cunt!" he finally gasped, the sound of the lewd four-letter word that Terri had taught him coming from his young lips acting like a tiny torch in Jean's belly.
"Then.. . " Jean tried to sound bored, but her rasping voice belied that falsehood.
Gordy twisted his head to look up at his coach's wife in wonderment. "Then he pretends he's fucking her."
"He . . . pretends he's fucking her.. . ? " she hissed, the need to repeat the lewd word uncontrollable. "Now about Terri.. . " Jean quickly inquired, setting her drink back onto the plank beside her and bringing her free hand down to rest on his young denim-clad thigh, where slowly she began to smooth in gentle little caresses. "Tell me what happened with Terri.. . "
Again Gordy hesitated, wanting more than anything to keep his promise to the girl who had let him do it to her until she shivered and jerked ail over, whimpering right out as if she were going to blow her mind.
"Tell me!" the feverishly excited wife demanded, the feel of his tender thigh beneath her hand and the conformity of his boyish frame pressed tight against her hip and breast causing unknown sensations to ripple madly through her. "Did . . . did you stick it into her?" she hissed.
Gordy's sandy hair tossed in an emphatic negative, his pale blue eyes still fixed on her flushed, pretty face. Damn, his cheek was resting against her tit. . . so big and soft and he could feel her heart beating! Man . . . oops! It was happening down there between his legs again! "I. . . she showed me how and.. . I licked it for her!" he blurted shamefaced.
"M-My God!" Jean's hand flew to her heart, his confession increasing the rampant thrills racing through her until she was trembling all over. "Y-you licked her where, darling? Between her legs? Tell me?"
"Yes. . . her pussy, she called it!" he added, dry-mouthed now as he felt the woman's hand still smoothing over his legs . . . and moving closer to his stiffening young penis.
"The little slut!" Jean was lust-struck . . . and envious. How dare her young sister-in-law, a single woman, have more sexual freedom than she, a married woman? The thought made her sizzle. And to take liberties to whom she had nearly helped raise? That maddening query sent delicious tremors rippling through her vibrantly quivering young body. "And you . . . did you like doing it for her, Gordy?"
He swallowed. "I-didn't mind, Mrs. Henderson."
'Was it. . . fun.. . I mean seeing her.. . her vagina right up close like that and . . . and putting your tongue in it?" Jean questioned. "Would you do the same for me?" she said before she could check her desires, then suddenly bent down to kiss his smooth cheek, while her stroking hand moved hotly over his body until her fingers bumped against his young boy-cock inside his threadbare jeans. My Lord, it was hard! "Tell Jean everything. . . "
"Well," he started. "It was fun . . . and I guess I'd do it for you if you asked me to . . . but she didn't do it to me," he managed, the contact of the coach's wife's warm hand right over his bulging, tingling hardness sending crazy feelings buzzing through him.
"N-Next time we did it, she said she would do it for me. . . "
Jean's eyes slitted. Terri was beating her to the punch . . . whatever that punch was, and Jean didn't care for that one bit. The feel of his hard young penis beneath her exploring hand and fingers was beginning to get the better of her senses. God, she had never behaved so suggestively with anyone-including dear Ralph. Something was compelling her, egging her on, and whether it was subconscious competition for this boy's affections or a maternal instinct gone awry, didn't matter. The act was important.
Gordy's mind was running amuck with a mixture of happiness and apprehension. He hadn't even felt this churned up when Terri, laying naked in the bushes by the tennis courts, had threatened to tell the Hendersons if he didn't comply to her demands. And Mrs. Henderson was so pretty, and just the soapy smell of her made him horny. But crap, she was holding his throbbing cock right in her hand! Terri had scared the hell out of him, though he'd really like it once he had taken her panties off and pushed his curious face up to the dark, hair-covered hole and slipped his tongue in for an appetizer! And if he showed Mrs. Henderson how he did it, she'd have to take her shorts off and her panties too. . .
"Do you want to, Gordy? You know that as the coach's wife I'm responsible for you," she was saying as she held him so tight he could barely catch a breath, while all the time she kept feeling and gently stroking his hardened cock through his tight blue jeans. Damn, how he wished he could cum like the other boys. They always seemed to like that part best, but always ended up with his guts hurting.
"Huh, Gordy?"
"I-I don't mind. . . "
Jean chuckled. "Mind? Want is what we're talking about. You have to want it!"
"Sure.. . " he shrugged. "You'll have to take your clothes off," he said, looking down and catching sight of her soft white hand fondling and rubbing his rod of flesh until he was afraid he might urinate in his pants.
"As I said . . . I'm sort of a teacher to you, and if you're going to learn about these things, you must learn them from the right person. Terri is not a good teacher."
To assure him of her sincerity, she kissed him, but this time twisting his young freckled face upward until her lush, moistened lips found his, her tiny tongue slipping through to tickle his mouth. At the same time she squeezed and stroked his boyish hardness bulging in the front of his jeans, the memory of its sizable length and thickness still vivid in her mind. She let go of him then and stood up, reaching for the door and slamming it shut.
"Now show me how you did it to Terri," she quickly requested, still feeling the need for a mental crutch with this boy. "Stand up and take your jeans and shorts off.. . while I slip out of my shorts," she ordered huskily, watching intently as he got to his feet and unzipped his fly. The thought that it was so much easier with a boy entered her head; he was happy for what she could give him instead barking for something he was incapable of giving himself.
He was willing to give of himself, and that pleased Jean. God, she was more nervous than on her wedding night! She stood unmoving as he let his faded jeans slide down the young legs and then kicked them away. He looked up at her as if wondering why she wasn't doing her part, but her eyes were fixed on the tent his white cotton shorts made with his blood swollen erection poking straight out from boyish loins. She wondered fleetingly how Terri had gone about her job of seducing this young thing. One thing for certain: she would do her level best to beat the girl at her own game.
"Y-you want me to take your panties off, like I did for Terri?" she heard him ask.
So Tern had him take her panties off, huh? Her mind seethed.
"If it would please you, Gordy. Do everything you did with her-and more!" the frenzied wife burst, her sensually gleaming blue eyes still fastened on the front of his shorts. "But first. . . take yours out.. . so I can see your thing."
Gordy couldn't fathom the depths of the feelings going on inside him! As mind-blowing as it'd been with Terri, seeing and playing, then putting his tongue right up inside her cunt and making her cum once she'd told him where to tickle it, he just knew it couldn't be anything like it was going to be with this beautiful coach's wife.
Jean watched in fascination as the half-naked boy unabashedly pushed his shorts down, letting them drop to the floor of the sauna and exposing to her eager eyes the nakedly hardened length and thickness of his growing penis. He was proud that it was growing these days, and with all this female attention, why shouldn't it become educated in a man's world? Jean's eyes almost smarted as they gaped at its red-tipped beauty, the head still partially concealed inside the tender sleeve of its foreskin . . . and his tight swollen testicles below snuggled up against the wider stalk as if it were one big unit! Not more than a sprinkling of peach fuzz covered the soft leanness of his lower belly. Then he moved toward her, his stiffened penis waggling as he made that one step, and the sight of that erotic little pole coming towards her made Jean shiver. He leaned forward and she felt his young, warm hands moving up under T-shirt. God, he was rolling down her jogging shorts and taking her panties with it!