Chapter 9
The next day Vickie seemed frustrated and irritable as though some dark clouds were gathering upon the horizon which Jeff couldn't as yet see. By lunch time it had begun to rub off on the boy and he began to feel as if an accident was about to happen. Vickie decided to get into the afternoon shipboard bridge session to take her mind off of the worries she could feel, yet not quite put her finger upon. Jeff decided to try to calm his own nerves with a drink at the ship's bar.
Midway through his second drink the old barracuda from the night before bore down directly upon him like a dreadnaught in a foggy sea. He watched her approach in the mirror behind the bar and couldn't escape as she plunked down on the stool right beside him and ordered a double gin martini. Something about the old broad gave him the creeps and he determined to finish his drink and leave. At least until she had her drink and got the hell out of the bar.
Before he could beat a hasty retreat the older woman turned to him and announced, "Young man, I think that you and I have a very serious matter to discuss in my stateroom."
At first he thought that he must have misunderstood her. He tried to look calm as he turned to her and said, "Madam, I think you're making a mistake. I don't believe that I even know you."
"That's right. You don't, at least not as of this moment but believe me, boy, I could turn out to be one of the most important people in your young life. My name is Helene Griswold and I'm Chairwoman of the Citizens' League for Decency. Your name is Jeff Burke. You're sixteen years old and you're traveling with your mother, Vickie Burke, who is thirty-six years old ... just four years my junior. If it's your desire to continue to live with your mother after we return to the mainland, I suggest that you come to my stateroom and have a serious discussion. Otherwise, I intend to use all of the powers of my office to have her declared an unfit parent and have you remanded to a County Juvenile Home until your eighteenth birthday. I'm in B-17. You will have no trouble finding it. It is the cabin right next to yours. I shall give you five minutes to arrive there." She made her announcement in strong tones and stomped from the cocktail lounge.
Was this old broad some kind of a nut? At least she had known his name and his mother's and their ages. She was obviously a busybody with a hatchet out for them for some unknown reason. His first inclination was to rush to Vickie in the card salon and tell her what had happened. Then he thought better of this since his mother was already distraught. At least he could go to the old bag's stateroom and find out the nature of the matter.
He fortified himself with another drink first and tried to regain his composure. Then he walked from the bar and made his way to stateroom B-17. He tapped lightly on the door and heard a totally new voice.
"Come in, Jeff Burke. It's unlocked."
Hesitantly,' Jeff turned the knob and pushed open the door and entered the dimly lit stateroom. The woman had been dressed in a tweed suit in the bar. Now she wore only a thin nylon peignoir. Even from the doorway he could see that she wore nothing beneath it. She was seated on the edge of the big bed with a portable cassette tape recorder balanced on her lap.
"All right, I'm here. What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" he demanded.
"Now, don't get in an uproar, Jeffie-boy. You just sit down in that nice comfortable chair and let me play a recording for you. It may prove to be the most important recording of your life." She spoke now in a mildly seductive voice.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jeff insisted, but sat down in the chair to listen.
"Well, first I must explain. My son is on the District Attorney's staff in Los Angeles, where you live. He's a very dutiful son and we're very close, though not as close as you and your mother. Whenever I travel I've always written him a newsy letter every day or so. Last year I began to develop crippling arthritis in my right hand and it's now very difficult for me to write and so he bought a pair of these little portable tape recorders and, instead of writing, we exchange voice letters recorded on tape. Late last night I sat at that desk behind you and turned on the recorder and was just about to talk into it to tell my son of my last days in Hawaii when another voice came on loud and clear and recorded itself through the microphone. I think you'll recognize the voice that came through loud and clear onto the tape. Here, let me play it back for you. Just listen." She pushed the playback button on the recorder and Jeff nearly died as he heard his mother's voice.
"...Take your poor old mother to bed and make her cum in your mouth and then fuck her with that beautiful big cock of yours and fill her with your sweet juices. Then later I'll suck your cock for you and let you cum in my mouth and I'll swallow every drop of your honey."
Jeff turned as red as a beet. There was no mistaking Vickie's voice. Damn her, why had she had to get so loud. He had warned her to keep her voice down. He had been afraid that the neighbors might hear but it had never dawned on him that one of them might record her damning words.
"What do you want?" Jeff asked as he stared at the woman who had just shut off her horrible recorder.
"My dear boy, don't you see? I must do my civic duty. You're a minor child and you're living with an obviously unfit parent who's corrupting your morals. You must be taken away from her, for your own protection, and placed in a public home until you reach legal age. I have no alternative." She made it all sound very menacing.
"Bullshit!" Jeff snarled. "If you intended to do that you'd simply have done it. You wouldn't have brought me here and told me of your plans. How did you know that I wouldn't kill you and simply destroy your lousy tape?"
"I'm sure that you're far too intelligent to take that unnecessary chance. You see, Jeff, I'm a moralist but I'm also a practical and a very human woman. Admittedly, I've nothing to gain by hurting and humiliating you and your mother. Nonetheless, I'm an opportunist. Quite inadvertently last night I stumbled upon something of great value. What I'm saying is that the tape is for sale." She almost cooed the words.
"So what? I have no money and I surely wouldn't allow my mother to part with her limited widow's pension to pay your filthy blackmail. Do with it what you will. I've no means to buy it from you," he snarled.
"Oh, but you have. My dear boy, things can be bought for considerations or goods and services other than money. That's what I'm proposing. Just hear me out and I think you'll see that the situation isn't so hopeless as it may appear to you right now."
"I still don't understand," he moaned, his eyes glued to the deck.
"Let me explain. I've checked up on you. I'm just four years older than your mother. My husband was killed two years ago and I've starved for sexual attention the same as your dear mother must have. The only difference is that my son was married and I had no young boy at home to seduce for my selfish sexual purposes. All I'm asking is that, for this one afternoon, you give me the same sweet attentions that your mother so forthrightly described in that tape. To wit: I suggest that I'll give you the tape if you'll give me the same services you give her: suck my cunt, fuck me and allow me to suck your cock." She moved over in front of Jeff and ran her fingers through his hair and ran her hands beneath his shirt and over his chest.
Jeff's eyes examined the older woman, looking for some area of sexual attraction. It wasn't there. He felt only physical revulsion. In his heart he wanted to tell the old cunt to go piss up a rope but then he realized that she was holding all of the trump cards. He felt like a tender young whore being asked to lay a dirty old man and suck his smelly balls. He knew that he must bend to her demands but his stomach regurgitated at the very thought. "Well, Jeff Burke, what is your answer?" she I demanded.
"How do I know that you haven't made copies of the tape?" he asked her.
"I've no means by which to copy a tape. I give you my word that this is the one and only copy," she said, feeling that victory was within sight.
"And when do I get it?" he asked, knowing that he must go through with the deal.
"When I'm thoroughly satisfied, sexually, you'll walk from this stateroom with that tape in your pocket," she replied.
"Are you sure, Mrs. Griswold, that you really want me under these conditions?" he asked, hoping that she might back down.
"My dear boy, when you reach my age you realize that sex without romance is infinitely more satisfying than romance without sex. I've had a bellyful of the latter from some of the old coots I know. What I need from you is a full treatment of hard young cock administered by someone who knows what to do with it. And I'm sure you do, from what I heard when I pressed my ear to the wall after making that tape last night. It sounded to me like you did everything but tattoo that lucky woman."
Jeff glanced at his watch. It was a few minutes before three in the afternoon. He had promised to meet Vickie at five, after the bridge session, in the cocktail lounge. "It looks like you have me backed into a corner. In exchange for that tape I'll give you exactly two hours in which to do with me as you will. At the end of that time, I'll walk out of his stateroom with that damn tape and I don't ever expect to see or hear from you again. Is that the deal?"
"That's the deal," she said, smiling.
Once the die had been cast, Mrs. Griswold began to undress Jeff and to run her hands over the exposed portions of his body. She gasped in disbelief at the sight of his enormous sex. Even soft, it was the biggest organ she had ever seen.
She ran her hands over it, exploringly, as though trying to make sure that her eyes weren't deceiving her. When she had Jeff completely bare, she removed her own negligee. Jeff was shocked at the sight of this older woman in the nude. He realized, of course, that people age but he had never given any real cogent consideration to the ways in which this process affects the female anatomy. Vickie was the oldest woman he had ever seen unclothed. Her figure was full, mature and ripe at age thirty-six. The Griswold woman who stood naked before him was forty. Jeff saw what happens when the female form gets overripe. It was a sad sight. He suddenly realized that women are like roses. They have various stages of beauty from the emergence of the tight young bud through the gradual development leading to the soft full blown flower. Once the blooming period had passed, they faded fast and what had been beauty becomes ugliness.
Helene Griswold's first blackmail payment demand came in the form of making Jeff go down and suck her cunt. Normally speaking, the boy wouldn't have considered this in the nature of a hardship nor even an unpleasant duty. He had become fascinated by the infinite variety of fragrances and flavors in which pussy came. Now, as he sank down between her spread thighs and approached her hairy cunt, he encountered a patch of graying pubic hair for the first time in his life. As he drew close his nostrils were assailed by the over-ripe aroma. It reminded Jeff of an open-air fish market in August. The old girl had probably discarded her douche bag when her husband got killed. If indeed she had ever owned one in her life. Now, at close range, he saw that some of her cunt-hairs were extremely long. Perhaps three or four inches. He went at this ugly, smelly thing the same way that he used to go about taking a dose of castor oil as a child. He simply closed his eyes and gulped it down. The taste was even worse than the smell but he kept at it. Fortunately, for his purposes, the old girl hadn't had any oral attention in so long that she climaxed quickly after his tongue and lips made contact with her sex. When it was over, Jeff pulled away, astounded that what had always been one of his favorite avocations could, under the wrong circumstances, be a most distasteful experience.
Next, she wanted to be loved and screwed. Her tits were droopy and flabby. The nipples were very large and a purplish-brown color. Until now Jeff had never seen an ugly pair of tits. Perhaps they had once been beautiful. The skin of her stomach and buttocks was a sick, almost deathly, white and resembled damp crepe paper. He had a hard time keeping enough of an erection to do what he had contracted to do. Damn Vickie and her loud drunken voice the night before! There was no trouble getting it in. She was as big as all outdoors and sloppy wet. Impaling her was like shoving his cock into an open can of axle grease. When he got started she was all emotion and no motion. She came three times and then he pretended to. She was so juicy down in there now that the addition or absence of his jism would surely go unnoticed. He was beginning to lose his hard-on, anyway.
When there was a half-hour left of the time he had promised her, she went down between his legs to suck his cock. Her teeth scraped his sensitive glans and corona and she seemed to be unable to get it in her mouth. Perhaps he would luck out in this department. Suddenly, she seemed to have given up the effort. Then Jeff heard a clicking and clacking noise as she removed her false teeth. Now the toothless old hag had no difficulty in accommodating his big prick in her oral chasm. She began doing funny things with her lips and cheeks and Jeff felt as though he was being gummed to death. It was a vastly different sensation from any he had ever known. And not in the least unpleasant. She kept at his hot meat until she got what she was suctioning and gumming for as his balls twitched and he gushed out a load of heavy hot cream into her mouth. She ingested it desperately as though it was the very elixir of life which might revitalize her own youth.
After she released his spent cock from her gummy trap, Jeff rushed to the bathroom and washed it good. Probably she had sucked off most of the smell and taste of her smelly snatch but he had to make sure. It wouldn't do for Vickie to detect it. Now if he could just get the lousy taste out of his mouth. He dressed quickly and held out his hand for the tape cassette. She removed it from the recorder and handed it over, as promised. Jeff looked at the little plastic cartridge of damning evidence and slipped it carefully in his pocket. Then he left the stateroom without a word. As he closed the door he noticed the little metal plate "B-17". How appropriate, he thought. My experiences in there have been about as much fun as a bombing raid.
In his own stateroom he brushed his teeth twice and used half a bottle of mouthwash. It may have been his imagination but he thought he could still taste her smelly cunt. Perhaps a drink would fix that. On deck, he moved to the rail, removed the cassette of tape from his pocket and tossed it into the Pacific. Then he made his way to the bar and had two double whisky sours before Vickie came in from her afternoon of bridge.
Jeff looked at his mother in a new light after his experiences that afternoon. She looked, somehow, older than before. There were little wrinkles around her eyes that he hadn't noticed before. The smile lines were getting deeper around her mouth and she wore noticeably more makeup than she had a year before. The skin on her neck had lost its youthful firmness and there were early signs of softening and sagging. There was no question about it. . . his beautiful mother was beginning to age. The realization made him sad and morose. In four more years he would be twenty. She would be forty. That was the Griswold woman's age. Was it possible that she too could degenerate to that point in just four years. Deep down inside Jeff knew that it wasn't just possible but probable. He had never before had occasion to give any serious thought to the future of their incestuous relationship. Now he had to face the disarming realization that their future was, at best, short-lived. The time was rapidly approaching when Jeff Burke must cut the umbilical cord that held him to his mother.