Chapter 12
The old lady was in a hell of a mood die next morning. She ranted and raved and found every little thing possible to bitch about Usually the old man would have taken it quietly, ignoring her, but in the middle of it he pushed himself up. "Come on, Sam, let's get out of here!"
She was yelling something about the two of us suddenly getting awful thick as we left, but I guess that neither one of us heard exactly what she said. We went out to the car, got in and started away. "That is really something," the old man said, "and if you're still thinking about what you said last night it'll show you what you're up against Most Saturday nights I have to beg and coax her, and half the time she still won't give in. You know what the bitching is about this morning? Because I didn't even touch her last night She raises hell and clamps her hands over her damned cunt when I want a little, then gets up tight when I don't even try for it!"
I thought about it I remembered that portion of her parting remark that I had heard. "You don't think she's got any ideas, do you? I mean, you don't think she thinks you and I have something going?"
"Oh, hell, no! She's too old-fashioned to think of something like that!"
I hoped that he was right Man, I had a good idea of what she would do if she found out what I was up to before she got to enjoying herself in the same way.
"I should have been smarter," the old man said as if he were thinking out loud. "I should have gone home and made at least a futile attempt But Jesus! AH I could do was lie there and go over what had happened, remember how great it had been!"
I glanced across at him. I saw that he had another hard-on, and a smile of remembered pleasure on his lips. "You really bad a ball didn't your
He shook his head, rubbed his own cock, and that was answer enough. "like I said, I haven't had a fuck like that since I was a kid, and I'd never been in on...what'd you call it a three-way?" A moment later, "No woman has ever gone down on me before. Jesus, that was something!"
Even though it was a Sunday morning, I toyed around with the idea of getting a girl-or maybe a couple of girls-and getting things going again. HelL the old man would probably even be willing to rent a motel room for it I decided against it He had been fully converted; now I'd just fix Mm up from time to time if he wanted-or when he wanted.
We drove around for awhile, then he looked at his watch. The old lady would have left the house for church, so he turned around and started back. "What are you going to do today?" he asked.
I repeated the question to myself. What was I going to do today? I knew that I wasn't about to stay around the house, not with the old lady in that kind of a mood. "Ah, I guess m just wander around, see what happens."
As it turned out, I didn't have to make up my own mind. As we turned into the drive-way a kid from school, Carl Thompson, pushed himself up from where he had been waiting on the steps. He's a fairly good looking kid, tall and dark-haired, and he usually seems happy-go-lucky as all hell. He's in my home-room, and one of the ones I had scratched off immediately as obviously not needing any help. Needless to say, I frowned a little as I walked toward him. "Hi, Carl! What's up?"
He bobbed his head. "Can I talk to you, Sam?"
"Sure," I answered, and led the way into the house, down the hall and into my bedroom. Just out of habit, I flopped on my backside on the bed, sprawled out Carl looked around, then sat on the edge of the bed. He put his hands in his lap and fidgeted with his fingers, looking down at them. "Dave told me how you got things going for him," he finally said, "and so did Frank Jorgenson. They said...they said you're sort of...welt doing that for kids. I mean...helping them out!"
"I'm trying to," I admitted honestly. "Hell, I think everybody should enjoy life, and the mattress sports are an important part of it But now that we've got that settled...Hell, I thought you were one of the happy fuckers!"
He looked up, straight into my eyes. "Man, I wish I was," he said softly.
"So why aren't you? What's your problem?"
"Well...Well, to start with, as much as I want to I don't even dare try to go out with a girl."
"Oh? Why not?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "When I was a little kid I got kicked in the crotch by a horse. I don't know what it did, what it broke, but...Well I can get a hard-on, I don't have any problem there, but the damn thing just hangs there. I mean, something happened right at the root, I can't raise it When I try to get it into a girl-even if I get it hi-it just doesn't work right"
I raised up on an elbow. "Man, I never heard of anything like that before!"
"You don't believe me?" he said. I'll show you." Moving sort of desperately, he pushed himself up. His thoughts had already hardened him, I could see that He slid his pants and shorts down, and sure enough, he was hard and hanging about five and a half or six inches. He lifted it up, let go, and it fell again, hanging down over his balls.
"Can you jerk off?" I asked him.
"Oh, sure, but who wants to spend then life jerking off?"
I nodded, taking a last look at his hanging meat as he pulled his clothes back up. I considered it. I thought about some other people I knew, and I said to myself, "Well, that's the answer. If you can't get your kicks one way, get them another." I looked up at Carl. "You ever have a blow-job?"
He shook his head.
"Well, hell, man, I think that's the answer. You cant screw and there's nothing you can do about it, so find something that feels good and stick with it Hell, you can have all the fun of loving a girl up, then use the mouth-method."
"You mean.. . ? "
"I mean you let her swing on you. If you can jerk yourself off you sure as hell could get blown! But in all fairness, I hope you like to eat pussy."
"I.. , I've never tried it."
I swung my legs off the bed. "Come on, old buddy, there's no time like the present to try to work this out!"
He looked almost frightened. "What...?"
I led him down the street, around to the back and into the Nordham's recreation room. "You wait here," I said, and went to the door leading to the house, knocked and went in. Liz and Ted had apparently really had a night of it with the Fletchers, because they were still racked out I went to the bedroom door, looked in and got a side-view of Liz with her tits hanging down, Ted with his ass-end up. I tip-toed over and shook Liz; she blinked, squinted, then a smile of recognition spread across her lips. She rolled over onto her back and stretched, kicking the blankets off so that whether I wanted it or not I get a view of her entire beautiful body.
I told her about Carl and she listened, but then she reached down and rubbed between her legs. "I hate to do it Sam, but I have to beg off. God, what a night we had! We didn't get home until almost seven this morning, and...oh, were those boys active! I'm simply too tired for even a nice young cock and tongue this morning!"
"Man, you must have had a night!" I answered, shaking my head. I never would have believed that I would ever hear Liz Nordham turn away from fun and games. But I told myself that there's no point wasting time on a lost cause. I turned and left, went back to the recreation room to warn Carl to be sure and wait and then left the house.
I started down the list but I didn't have to go far. Little Ellen Drew, with her taste for sucking cock and her compassion for people (hadn't she said that it made her feel good giving Jerry pleasure?) seemed like the logical candidate. I beaded for her house.
We went through the same routine. Her old lady answered the door, looking like she had just eaten sour apples. She seemed ready to refuse, then turned back and called for Ellen. Ellen appeared, stepped out onto the porch, and I told her the story. I watched her face, and her eyes lighted up with interest-I guess just about everybody gets some sort of kick out of hearing about people with odd sex problems. She happened to be one who carried that interest further, who willingly got involved in it She agreed and turned back into the house. I took off, went down to the end of the block and waited for her.
I knew that I didn't have to go back. Ellen knew her way there, and she would know what to do once she got there, but there was nothing else to do so I decided to sit in on the action. I guess, as I mentioned before, that I was becoming a bit of a voyeur; I got a sort of kick out of watching the others in action. Once we got there I did just that; I sprawled in a chair after opening the sofa out into a bed, and watched.
Ellen led the way. Without beating around the bush, she started undressing. She was down to panties and bra, all her nice pink flesh showing, her curves and mounds, when she noticed that Carl hadn't moved. Smiling, she went over to him, rubbed his cock and looked up into his eyes. "We aren't going to do anything if you don't undress," she said matter-of-factly.
Cad nodded his head, glanced at me, and then started to undress. He didn't take his eyes off her as he did; he watched her rid herself of her bra, letting her perky tits stand free and proud, then slide the silk panties off and raise up so that her forested mound was plainly visible. She moved to the bed and stretched out on her back, a hand behind her head so that she could watch him and the other hand moving automatically to toy with her own pussy-I guess in anticipation.
Carl stripped and stood beside the bed. He had a fairly good build, his balls hung fairly well, and his bard cock was in its natural position-hanging down like a hunk of bologna. He looked down at Ellen and she opened her arms for him; he crawled up into them, taking her body into his. She ground her pussy against him, her breastwork was plastered against his chest, and they kissed lustily. "Gee, I said silently, "I told you that you could enjoy the loving-up!" He was, there was no doubting it His hands started moving all over her body, playing with her tits, sliding down and feeling her buttocks, one moving around to finger her pussy. She was obviously enjoying it and her own hand went out for his cock; she got hold of it lifted it stroked it They were going at it so lustily, enjoying it so thoroughly, that my own cock stretched out and swelled against my leg; I put my hand over it feeling its warmth, and fingered around through my pants for the good feeling that comes from a little self-play.
Cad started first taking his cue from what I had said earlier, I guess. He pulled away, leaned over and started using his mouth on her tits. He'd bury his face between them, then raise it and start tonguing her. He licked circles around them, suckled on one and then the other nipple, all the while fingering her cunt Ellen laid back and enjoyed it her body writhing a little from time to time, then she could feel his lips moving down over her belly. As he headed for pussyland he turned his own body around, and as his mouth reached her cunt, Ellen lifted his hard cock and took it into her mouth. He said he had never eaten pussy before, but it didn't take any lecture; he went at it with a natural talent, perhaps enhanced, because she was giving his cock one hell of an excellent mouthing.
He had said that he couldn't fuck. Well, I don't know what you call it, but when he started coming he sure as hell did a reasonable facsimile. His ass end moved up and down with as much gusto as Ellen's was, as she let off her own jollies riding his rigid tongue. They both grasped each other's bodies as they quivered and made a duet of sex noises, then, faces still buried in each other's crotches, they went limp. I knew that Ellen had had herself a time, and I was willing to bet that Carl Thompson had found a sex-pattern that he would be able to use from then on. His meat-beating days would be over, too; he had found how to work within his limitation and still both give and get pleasure from a woman.
"Another victory, Trouble-shooter Barton," I told myself. "Another happy fucker! Because it can be called fucking. It's a variety of it, at least!"
I left them lying like that, figuring that from the way they had enjoyed it they would probably rest up and go at it again. I would have been willing to gamble that Carl, like the others, was more than anxious to make up for lost time, and Ellen, I knew from past experience, never grew tired of cock. I had seen her take on six boys one night, which allowed each one time to rest up once he'd popped his wad, and she had still been raring to go when the last of them admitted to an inability to get another hard-on. (As much as I hate to, I'll have to admit that I was one of those boys!)