Chapter 9

I went to several bars, had a drink in each one while I surveyed the landscape-while I looked over the available men. In one there was a potential, but when I started a conversation with him it didn't take long to find out that he wouldn't fill the bill. He was engaged to be married, and he was one of those who had "saved himself for his wife-to-be." In another I was eyeing one, but before approaching him I went to the lavatory; while I was still there he came in and went to the urinal next to me. The way he had to work to find his peter, the way it was hidden by only a portion of his hand once he'd gotten it out, I knew that there couldn't be enough there to do much good. Not that it had to be "beyond average," but Laurie was used to being plugged. It would have to be a least average! (Maybe I wanted it, to be big, too; maybe I thought the whole scene could be better that way!)

Not letting myself think of anything else, determined to go through with it, I left the last bar and headed the few blocks to where the transients hung out. It wasn't far from the loading docks where I worked; I had seen some of them during the day, and as I remembered some had been fairly young and decent looking. Some of them even stayed sober, while the general run of the mill in the neighborhood were wineos and derelicts. I drove slowly up one block and down the next; and then I thought that I saw him.

He was on the periphery of a circle of wineos who were obviously passing a wine bottle around. Even from a distance I could see that he was young, and the khakis he was wearing were clean. I turned the corner, parked, got out and started back. I passed them, and he checked out. Young, good-looking without being handsome, and clean. I leaned against a building not far away and waited, and the old thing about making people look at you by staring at them worked. He looked up, our eyes met; a couple of seconds later he pulled away from the group and walked up to me.

"Hi!" he said, showing even, white teeth.

"Hi," I returned, nodding. And then, "What's up? Want to go have a drink?"

"I'd like that," he said, "but I can't go in the bars. I'm only twenty."

I was willing to gamble, at least enough to get it started, planning ahead. "Well, we could always go to my place. There's nothing says you can't drink in a private home, is there?"

His eyes clouded for a moment, the smile disappeared. Finally he said, "Look, I'll be honest with you. I just got out of County Jail, and after six months ... well, I planned on getting a little nookie t'night, you know? Maybe ... maybe if you come back down here tomorrow night...."

I almost laughed, but I didn't. I just said, "Hell, man, I'm not putting the make on you! I'm no fairy.

We can have a drink or two then I'll bring you back. It'll be later and your chances'll be better, anyway,"

"Well...." he hesitated. "Well, okay."

I led him in the opposite direction, and at the alley I said, "I got to step in here a minute and take a leak."

He did what I had hoped he would; he followed me in, opened his fly, and pulled his whang out. It wasn't monstrous, but even in the dull light I could see that there was enough there, a fine shaft of pinkish flesh capped with a good sized, well-ridged knob. Hard, it just might stretch at least a little "beyond average."

In the car, driving back through the city, I decided that I had better level with him. "Look," I said, "I been having a little trouble with my wife. I ... I just can't get a hard-on for her any more."

He whistled softly between his teeth, an expression that said, "Gee, that's rough!"

"What I thought ... Well, it's been driving her a little wild, y'know, not getting laid, so I thought maybe if I took a good-looking guy home and we played it right, maybe he could get at her and satisfy her a little."

"You mean...? You mean ... you want me to screw your wife?" he gasped.

"She's not bad," I said, "she's not bad at all."

"Hell, I didn't mean that. I meant ...! Well, hell's bells, I've been in some screwy positions before, but I've never had a guy ask me to screw his wife!"

"You've probably never met a guy in my position before, either. But going on, I thought maybe ... well, y'know, there's a possibility that if you got going with her I could keep a hard-on, then I'd get in on the fun."

"Like ... like how?" he asked suspiciously, and I laughed again. He obviously still had his doubts and probably figured that I was thinking about sending it up his brownie.

"Like letting her suck me off while you humped her."

"Oh."

"I don't even know if it'll work, but I hope you'll be wiling to give it a try. By the way, what's your name?"

"Lance," he said. "Lance Morrow."

"Mine's Mark. Mark Sheffield."

We shook hands almost solemnly, his grip a firm one, then rode on in silence. Finally, he said, "Jesus! Jesus, I just don't know!"

"Ah, relax. We're going to have a few drinks first, that'll make you feel better."

. I nosed the car into the stall, shut off the ignition and doused the lights. I reached over and squeezed his leg. "Come on, man let's go up and see what happens!" Walking up the steps I was hopeful; here was a young stud who hadn't had a piece for at least six months, and up there was my wife who was frustrated because I hadn't been able to satisfy her.

Laurie was sitting in an occasional chair, a magazine on her lap; she looked up, and I could see that she had been crying during the day. But there was still hope in her eyes-and I was glad to see that she had straightened herself up. Her hair was combed, her make-up just right, and she was wearing a neat housecoat. She started to say something, then saw Lance. I almost had to pull him in, making the intro auctions, then left him standing there while I went to mix the drinks.

"Hell, sit down, man, be comfortable!" I said, handing him his drink. I put Laurie's on the table beside her. They were strong, both of them! The drinks, that is! "Jesus," I said, "it's hot in here, let's take our shirts off."

I stripped mine off, throwing it aside. Lance looked at me with almost no expression; then he slowly followed suit. I was pleased to see that whde his shoulders weren't particularly broad, he had a strong smooth chest, and a hard, flat belly. Youth, and Laurie would have to like youth! "Might just as well get all the more comfortable," I said, and kicked off my shoes. Again he hesitated a moment and then followed suit. I was beginning to get a kick out of it; I was beginning to get a hard-on! Glancing over, I saw that Lance was following suit in that, too. He might be hesitant, but the seed had been planted and was beginning to grow, and I guess the ground was pretty fertile after six cuntless months!

"Why don't you get comfortable, honey?" I asked. And then, with a laugh and pushing myself up, "Hell, why don't we all get comfortable!" I undid my buckle and slid my pants off, my three-quarter hard-on popping up.

"Mark!" Laurie cried out, and her face was beet red.

"Come on, Lance, get comfortable!"

"I ... I ... I...."

"Come on, goddamnit!"

He swallowed, then pushed himself to his feet. His dick was iron hard now, pressing out against his pants.

Like me, he obviously didn't wear shorts. He swallowed a couple of times, looking down at the floor; then he unbuttoned his pants and slid them off. His whang bounced up against his belly, and I had prophesized right. It was slightly over average, and big around as a silver dollar. The shaft was hard, the knob pinkish.

"Come on, Laurie, don't be a killjoy. Hell, we're big people now, we don't have to play kids games."

"I ... I won't do it. Oh, Mark...."

I looked down at her, and I forced myself to think of Sylvia Hawkins naked between her legs, plunging the dildo in and out of her. "You'll do it, goddamnit," I said in a half growl, "you'll do everything I tell you to! You know why I brought Lance home? Because he's young 'nd well hung, 'nd because he hasn't had a piece of ass for six months, 'nd because you've been bawlin 'cause you're cock hungry! Well, you're gonna get some cock, sweetie! You're gonna get that cock of his right up that hot box of yours!"

She pushed herself back against the back of the chair, something, like fear in her eyes. "No!" she gasped.

"Yes," I said, and took a step toward her. My hard-on stayed intact; if anything, it got harder. I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up; she struggled, but I got my arm around her from the back, and despite her clawing and kicking, I got her housecoat open down the front. She was crying, but I didn't give a damn; if anything, her crying made me all the more determined. By god, I told myself, if she could use a dildo, she could sure as hell take another man if I told her to. I finally got the housecoat off her and she seemed to fold. She wrapped her arms around her tits and squeezed her legs together, but Lance had seen enough to know that she was a good piece. "Now, you just relax, baby," I said gently. "You just sit down and have your drink, relax a little, and when you're feelin' better well get on with the business at hand."

"This ... this is ... unbelievable! Oh, I hate you! I hate you, Mark Sheffield!"

I laughed. "Wait 'til you get that rod goin' to town up your cooze, sweetie, you'll change your tune. You'll be thanking me. It's a helluva lot better than a hunk of rubber!"

Lance had been standing as if he were paralyzed (his cock was still paralyzed, hard against his belly). Finally, half-whispering, he said, "Maybe ... maybe I better go."

"Oh, for christ sake, don't you start in! Just relax, goddamnit, both of you. Drink your drinks, get feeling a little happy, then well have us a ball!"

And, as they say in the Bible, it came to pass. Laurie, trapped, chug-a-lugged her drink and I fixed another. She finally was tipsy enough that I led her into the bedroom, got her on the bed and loved her up. I sweet talked while I played with her titties, fingered her pussy, and got her hot enough that she groped for and finally got hold of my prick. "What you want, honey?" I cooed, "tell me what you want"

"Oh, I want you to fuck me, Mark! Please, please, fuck me!"

It was a temptation, believe me, but I didn't want to spoil things by crawling on and having it go soft I was afraid that jl it did it wouldn't get hard again. So, knowing that she was tipsy enough to get a little confused, I pushed myself away from her. "You lay right here, honey I'm gonna take a leak, then I'll come back and pour it to you!"

I turned the light out, but the light from the living room kept it from being totally dark. Back in the living room I smiled at Lance and pointed toward the bedroom. "Go get it, boy!" I whispered.

He swallowed again, grasping the arms of the chair; then he pushed himself up. Obviously afraid that if he stopped he couldn't get going again, he passed me and went into the bedroom. I moved to stand in the doorway.

He went directly to the bed and crawled on beside her, took her in his arms and moved his mouth to hers. It was the starter, the direct approach, and while their lips merged he ground his hard cock against her. They did that a bit; then he pulled away a little. His mouth still on hers, a hand went out and he started playing with her tits. Her hand groped for and found his cock, stroked it, and he moved his hand on down to her pussy. She loved it; she raised her hips a little, spread her legs, and he really went at it. He grasped it, giving it a good feel, then fingered it. He slid a finger in and began moving it around in circles. His mouth moved down to her tits, his tongue skillfully sloshing around. He found a nipple, I could tell, and was giving it a good tonguing. Laurie was writhing, not jerking him but sort of pulling on his whang as he sent sensations through her with hand and mouth, and he was obviously enjoying what he had been waiting six months for. And in that moment I thought that I understood Tim Handley a little better; it was really exciting, watching them go at it like two youngsters, who have just discovered the secret of the other sex. I had hold of my own pud and was tempted to pull it! Looking ahead to when he finally got his plunger into her, my own excitement grew more.

He pulled his finger out of her pussy, palmed it again for a couple of moments, then straddled her. I could see his ass, the cheeks together like the lips of a virgin cunt, and his balls hanging down between his legs-but his prick was still up along his belly. He lowered himself and I knew that he had it pressed against her muff; his hips moved and he was taking a dry run. Then he raised up and a hand went down-I couldn't tell whether it was his or heirs-his prick was pushed down, and I almost dumped a load from the excitement of it as I saw the head slide along that pliant crevice. His hips moved again, slowly, and the hand could leave; his prickhead was caught, now all he had to do was to start working it in. He did, using smooth, even strokes; then he had it buried in her and his balls were lying between her legs.

He started moving his hips again, and that was a clue for me-if it was going to happen, now was the time to get it started. I moved to the side of the bed, pushed his shoulder; he raised up, prick sunk in her, and looked at me almost as if he were dazed; then he remembered. His hands slid to my hips as I straddled her; I took hold of my cock and pressed it down against her. It hit her chin, her cheek; then she finally realized what it was hitting her. Her mouth opened and her lips went over the head, slid down the shaft, my balls hanging down over her chin. I almost held my breath; it felt great, her tonguing me, sliding her lips up and down my shaft, and the feeling of the bed moving while he was giving her a royal fucking had its own kind of excitement. I liked the warmth of her tits under my buttocks, the hard, prick-like nipples rough against my skin. I liked it all, but then it happened again. She was sucking her heart out, but the damn thing went limp. I couldn't believe it, but it had happened! Groaning, I rolled over, pulling free of them, and then watched as he straightened out, his mouth going to hers. He fucked on as if nothing had happened, pouring it to her with skill and enthusiasm, and she began to respond more fully. She receded from him as he drew away, rose up to meet him as he sent it plunging into her again; they belly banged and parted, belly banged and parted. Finally she struggled to get her legs outside his, then as he kept pouring it to her she moved her legs up over his, crossed her ankles over his back, and they were really going at it. At last he let out an "Oh, fuck!" and drove it into her, burying it clean to the hilt. I could tell from his twitching buttocks that he was spurting off one hell of a load, and it had done things to Laurie. She was thrashing around like a chicken with its head cut off. They crumpled onto the bed, a mass of satisfied flesh, and there I sat with a renewed hard-on. Keerist!

I reached over and felt his ass. It was warm and firm, the cheeks tight. I was tempted to try to pour it to him, to see if that would work-I remembered his saying that he wanted nookie tonight, but if I went back tomorrow night ... I was tempted, but I didn't. I stretched out on my back and looked up at the ceiling.

"Oh, Mark," I heard Laurie sigh, "honey, that was so good. I'm so glad you could do it again." There was movement, then she said, "Don't take it out, honey. Maybe if you leave it in it'll get hard again!"

Careful not to shake the boat, I eased myself off the bed and went into the living room. I found my glass and headed for the kitchen to refill it. I honest to god didn't know what I thought or felt at that moment-I didn't know whether to be glad that she had finally been satisfied, frustrated over my inability, or what! I took my drink and sprawled in a chair, looked down at my hard-on and shook my head.

The springs creaked a little, water ran in the bathroom, then Lance came into the living room. He shook his head. "Sorry it didn't work for you," he said, "but ... well, you sure did me a favor Jesus, that was ... that was great!"

I merely snorted.

He looked down at me. "Jesus, with a hunk of meat like that, I don't see how she could keep from telling us apart."

"She's drunk," I said, and I hoped that in the morning she wouldn't remember what had happened. And then, because it was true, "Besides that, you're not so badly hung, yourself."

He sprawled in a chair across from me, slouched down. A few seconds later, more as if he were talking to himself than to me, "It seems sort of funny....I mean, if some gal was sucking on my meat...."

"Forget it, will ya?" I demanded, more ferociously than I intended. "The whole truth is, I'm just tired of her. I've fucked her so many times, she's blown me so many times, that I'm just tired of it. When I take you back I'm goin' to keep on goin'. I'm goin' to find myself a nice little wench, and brother, if you were there you'd see some fucking!"

He shook his head, and I knew what he was thinking. He'd never get tired of something like that! Well, maybe he wouldn't, but I had. This had been the proof of the pudding.

Then he surprised me. "Look," he said, "if you want ... Well, you did me a favor, if you want I'd ... I'd jerk you off."

I laughed, then I pushed myself to my feet. "Come on, buddy, let's get dressed and go back downtown!"

Lance was staying in a cheap hotel on the lower end of town. I let him off in front of it, then headed for a service station not too far away where there was a telephone booth. I dialed Moulter's number, forming a smile-get ready, honey, get ready for action! Li'l o'l Mark is hot to trot!

Disappointment was like a bitter medicine when I got her answering service. "No," I answered almost angrily, "I don't want to leave a message!"

Sheeit! Of all times for her to have to go out on a call! Probably somebody with a phony ache or pain, anyway, and here' I was with a bad case of hot rocks that needed to be relieved!

I was hot. Sometimes I can get stirred up and then forget it, get busy doing something else, but this wasn't one of those times. Watching Lance at work, watching him slobber over Laurie's tits while he fingered her pussy, watching him building her fires and then getting his plunger in place and going to town . ... man that had fired me up! Nothing would satisfy me now until I'd popped off my wad. I was on the prowl, there were no two ways about it; I wanted pussy so bad I could taste it.

Jesus, I remembered the old days, before I had gotten married. I'd still been living at home, and when I got to feeling like this I'd he on my bed, look up at the ceding and think, Who do I want tonight? I'd go over the list in my mind, a mental list of available girls-girls who had let me know that when I wanted to screw all I had to do was give the word. It was a mental file that had them listed by geographical location, physical descriptions, and the kind of sex act they were best at. My mind would go like a Data Processing machine, a computer, and a card would plop out; I'd look at it and then go into action.

But that was a long time ago, I'd lost all contact, and here I was tonight, sitting in my car in the closed service station, wanting it bad. Well, I wasn't going to get it sitting on my duff! I started the engine.

Driving back uptown I remembered the dumb little blonde. Now, there had been a lay, and she had been eager for more! I wondered ... It was only a few minutes before nine, there was a good possibility. I headed for the old neighborhood.

The restaurant where the kids gathered for lunch was, as I had hoped, a gathering spot for them at night, too. The juke box was going full blast, the place was packed, and a jolly time seemed to be being had by all. They were clustered at tables, swarming around the counter, all those fresh young kids. For a few moments, as I looked in on it, I remembered how it had been when I was at that age, doing what they were doing! The girls looked so vitally alive, so ready to be plucked, the boys ran the gamut from those who were staying to themselves to those who were obviously working on something. All that meat ... the young tits pressing against sweaters and blouses, the nicely rounded butts, the nice young legsl Oh, yes, and the boys with their cocks, but my only concern where that was concerned was that I was going to take one's place tonight. Sorry, buster, " ut at your age it's permissible to go home and beat your meat when you've lost out!

I pushed through the door and started making my way through the crowd, not unaware of the pressure of young bodies as I looked around for her. (And, I might add, not failing to look at a lot of other nice young faces, heavy hanging tits, and making a mental note of any that were especially interesting!)

"Hey, man, you lookin' for somebody in particular?" a teen-ager asked me.

I only looked at him, smiled faintly, and moved on, To say yes would mean to have to give a name, and I had foolishly not asked her name. I could hardly say (although it might have worked) that I was looking for a dumb blonde who gave a good fuck and had a drunken father!

I found her in the back. She was sitting in a booth with an older boy, a clean cut kid who was eighteen or nineteen. He had his arm around her and his fingers were fiddling with her tit, under her arm. (I could see the fingers and found myself wondering if what I had heard was true-if long fingers did automatically mean a big cock. If it did ... ) She was half-leaning against him, her other tit touching his chest, and her hand was at his crotch. Another couple sat across from them in pretty much the same position, and all four were oblivious to the raucous teenagers around them. I smiled to myself, remembering. If I were to walk away, in just a little while there would be a car parked in some lonely spot and on each seat a lush young girl would be getting it pounded to her! But I didn't intend to walk away.

The boy became aware of me first. He looked up, his eyes questioning and then hardening a little. "You want somethin', Mac?"

The girl turned, looked up. Her eyes widened, her mouth formed a surprised O! She put a hand on his chest and pushed herself straight. I looked her straight in the eyes, letting only a hint of a smile touch my mouth. "You coming with me?"

She stuttered and stammered and the guy put in his two cents worth-a rather heated two cents worth, I might add-but in the end she pulled free of his grasp and got to her feet, straightening her skirt at the same time. "Hones', Joe," she half cried, "this's important, but I'll be back. Hones', Joe!"

"About an hour," I said to him. I put my hand on the small of her back and half pushed, hah guided her through the crowd and out of the building. I felt then, foolish as it might have been, as Joe might have felt had he been in my place-like a teen-ager who had just made contact and knew that in a very few minutes he was going to be getting his jollies off!

I was very gallant, opening the door for her, and by the time I had gotten around and slid under the steering wheel she had moved over so that we were pressed together. Her hand went immediately to my crotch.

"Gee," she said, wrapping her fingers around my whang, "I sure was surprised to see you!"

"And pleased, I hope!" I half laughed, starting the engine.

"Oh, sure, gosh, yes! I told you I like mature men!" Then, with a little giggle, "You gonna let me do ... that ... tonight?"

"Suck me off, you mean?"

"Yeah. I even dreamed about it after we was together last time."

I put my hand on her leg, feeling the warm flesh. "If that's your wish, my sweet, that's what well do. But we'll do a little lovin' first, okay?"

She knew a place to go that was closer and, it being dark, acceptable. I didn't even try to imagine how many times she had been there! But once there, I took her into my arms, felt all her warm loveliness, and started kissing the hell out of her. I rubbed her legs, slid my hand up under her skirt and felt her pussy. Sliding a finger under the silk panties; she groaned a little and spread her legs, giving me freer access. I took advantage of it. It was going to be tough, ignoring that beautiful box, but for the moment I could enjoy playing with it. I tugged on the panties, got them pulled down, and really went at it. She, at the same time, had fussed until she'd gotten my zipper open; she pulled my hard whang out and wrapped her fingers around it, almost purring into my mouth. I got a finger in, a second one. With my other hand I worked at her blouse, getting it pulled up enough so that I could grasp a lush tit; I played with it, teased the nipple, and with fingers busy at both ends she writhed in pleasure.

She pulled her mouth away for a moment. "Sweetie, will you pull your pants down? I want to get at it real good."

I chuckled. "Honey, I'm not giving up my hold. I'll raise up and you take care of it!"

I raised up and she slid my pants down, clear down to my ankle, then she really went at it. She played with my balls, fondled my cock, stroked it, while I continued to play with a tit and feel around her hot, lovely box. Finally I whispered against her cheek, "Sweetie, how about if you suck on it awhile then I stick it up this beautiful cooze of yours?"

"Oh, but I want ... I want to feel you shooting!" she cried out like a disappointed child, and I almost had to laugh.

"Okay, okay!" I answered; then I pushed her away. I pulled her blouse up, went at her tits with my mouth. I gave each one of them a thorough working over (remembering Moulter wanting to get fucked between hers, because these were fuckable ones, too); then I scrounged around so that I could get my head between her legs. I lapped at her pussy, running my tongue up and down it, then I positioned my tongue and started working it in. She groaned again, spreading her legs, and my old tongue really went to work. Finally I stiffened it and started fucking her, and after a little while she gave out little squeals, jostled her hips, and I knew that she was loosing her cookies.

"Oh, sweet fuck," she cried out, "oh, wow, that feels soooooo good!"

Then it was her turn. I pulled one leg free of my pants and swung it up onto the seat. She went directly to my crotch, taking my balls in one hand and the base of my prick in the other. She kissed the head, wiping her tongue around it, then made her mouth into an O and slid it down over the shaft. She slid her mouth up and down, bravely taking as much as she could; every once in awhile I felt the head hit the back of her throat. She'd pull out, her lips catching on the ridge of my prickhead for a moment, traveling over it lightly and then moving back down. She may not have had much experience at it, but she was doing a mighty fine job. Then she slid her mouth off it, kissed her way down the stem and came to my balls. She licked the loose skin of the sac, then sucked an almond-shaped ball into her mouth; she tongued it, then let it go and went for the other. She tried, but she couldn't take them both at once; giving up, she kissed her way back up the shaft and slid her lips over the head again. This time she kept going-until I had to reach out for her head, and I held it while I started humping-her mouth became a receptacle that I was fucking. I felt it growing ... growing ... then I pushed up off the seat and sent of load of come shooting down her throat. She gagged, but she bravely swallowed, taking it all, and when I fell back against the seat she rode with it. She sucked it dry, then licked any that might have been left on the head off and raised up.

"Wow, you really shot a load!" . "Did you like it? Was it what you wanted?"

"I like it from you" she answered honestly, "but I don't think I'd suck other guys' cocks."

I chuckled and reached down to squeeze her tits. She was really something, so sweet and simple.