Chapter 3
Randy's cum tasted delicious to her, and she lost :rack of time while she slowly and lingeringly lapped it from her lips. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the blushing delivery boy zipping up his pants.
"I gotta run, Miss Lane," he said weakly. "I got my route to do."
"Oh, of course, Randy," she said" vaguely.
He left her standing there in the storeroom and hurried out the back to his bicycle. Christ, that had been a weird scene. He wondered exactly what Miss Lane had had in mind, whether she'd really meant to jerk him off. She sure was acting funny today, not at all like her ordinary prim sour self. Well, he was used to strange behavior-he encountered it all the time on his delivery - route-but he'd never had an experience quite like this. As he pedaled off, he began to grin. Whatever her motives, it sure had felt great when she jacked him off. Maybe he could get her to do it again sometime. Right now, however, he had to get his mind on business. He had plenty of other customers to visit.
Randy returned to the store and picked up a bag of goceries for Mrs. 'Angela Tate, a middle-aged widow. He always liked to go to Mrs. Tate's house because she was so rich. The house itself was fantastic, a regular rriansion, and Mrs, Tate always gave him a generous tip. As he rode in from the -alley, he could see her watching for him at the kitchen window. When he walked in the back door, though, he got a surprise.
Ordinarily Mrs. Tate was fully dressed when he made his deliveries, and usually she had the maid pay him. Today, however, she was waiting alone for him, and she was wearing a filmy pink negligee that hid not a single detail of her opulent body. Randy found himself gawking.
"Hello, Randy," she said in a husky voice. "Uh, hello, Mrs. Tate," he managed to say. Jesus Christ, maybe she didn't realise it, but he could see right through her dress.
Angela Tate was perfectly well aware that the blushing delivery boy could see through her clothing. She'd dressed that way on purpose. She had been a widow for some years now, but she'd been too busy with her various social activities to give much thought to sex. It was only lately, with her forty-fifth birthday, that she began to experience a longing too strong to ignore. She had thought of taking a lover, but she decided that it would be too much of a bother. She only wanted to screw, not to carry on conversations and keep up a front of politeness. Mrs. Tate, a very cool and practical woman, had simply begun to masturbate. Unlike Dora Lane, she felt absolutely no guilt or shame about it. The only trouble was, it got boring sometimes, doing it all alone. Once in a while, like today, she wanted a little variety. She remembered that Randy the delivery boy was coming, and she got an idea. She gave the maid the morning off, then dressed in her most revealing negligee. Perhaps the boy wasn't old enough to appreciate it, but if so, she could always try the milkman. Now she saw that Randy was plenty old enough to appreciate the spectacle of her barely clothed body. The kid couldn't take his eyes off her.
Randy had never thought of Angela Tate as attractive before. To him she was just a fat old lady who had lots of money. He was starting to change his mind, however. Her ash blonde hair was neatly done, her makeup skillfully applied, and she smelled pleasantly of some expensive perfume. All that was very nice, much more attractive than poor Miss Lane who didn't know how to look feminine at all. Mrs. Tate certainly wasn't young any more, but she made the most of what she had. Randy couldn't deny that she was plump, either, but somehow it seemed enticing to him. Through the thin pink material of her negligee he could see that her skin was very white and creamy and smooth. Her breasts were very large and long, ending in large brown nipples. It was the first time he'd seen a grown woman's tits, and he ached to get his hands on them. Farther down, between her plump swelling hips, he saw a large black triangle of mons fur, much larger than Miss Lane's. All in all, he had the exciting impression of soft, warm, cushiony flesh. Again he wondered if Mrs. Tate was aware of how much he could see.
"That grocery bag must be heavy, Randy," she said cooly.
"Huh? Oh, yes, ma'am," said Randy, hurrying to set the bag on the table.
"One moment, please," said Angela, "and I'll get your tip."
Shit, thought Randy. That was it, end of adventure. He'd hoped to be able to stare at her lush plump body a while longer, but Angela was her usual crisp efficient self, getting right down to business. She returned to the room in a moment, a few bills in her hand. "Here you are," she said. "I hope that's enough."
"Oh, yes, ma'am, thank you," said Randy taking the money gratefully. It was five dollars, her usual tip, a real bonus for him. Most of his customers gave a quarter, if anything, because they weren't rich like Mrs. Tate. Five dollars seemed like nothing to her. Randy stuffed the money in his jeans and headed for the door.
"Wait a minute, Randy," said Angela Tate. "How would you like more money?"
He turned back to her, puzzled. "More? But you've given me more than enough already, Mrs. Tate. I don't understand." He couldn't read her expression-it was cool and self-possessed, as always.
"This money wouldn't be for delivering groceries, Randy," she said. "It would be for another job. This job wouldn't require much effort, and the work might be quite pleasant for you. Can you spare an hour?"
Randy thought quickly. He really wanted to finish his route and get home, to play with his friends, but on the other hand he always wanted extra spending money. "An hour?" he said. "Well, yeah, I guess. I could do it on my lunch hour. It's just about time."
"Fine," said Angela. Her voice was a husky purr. "Come with me, please."
Randy followed her out of the kitchen, watching her big white buttocks bounce and quiver under the filmy material of her negligee. He felt his balls stirring with excitement again, even though it had been less than half an hour since Miss Lane jerked him off. Damn it, it seemed like he was always horny. He sternly told himself to cut it out. It would be just too embarrassing to get a hard-on in front of Mrs. Tate. He might even lose out on this new job.
"Just what kind of work is it, Ma'am?" he said, trying to distract himself from his growing horniness.
"You'll see, dear, in just a moment," Angela replied without turning around. She started up the broad main staircase, and Randy followed, still gawking at her big white ass. He supposed she wanted him to move some furniture for her.
Women were always wanting him to do that, except that very few of them paid him. He didn't really care what the job was, as long as he got some money, and he knew that Mrs. Tate would be generous.
She walked into the master bedroom, and Randy followed. He'd never been upstairs in the Tate mansion before, and he was very much impressed with the room. It seemed huge-as big as his whole house-and was lushly carpeted in something that felt like velvet under his feet. There were heavy draperies, ornately carved pieces of furniture, and in the middle of the far wall was the largest bed Randy had ever seen. It was bigger than king size, even, with massive posters and canopy and a real fur spread. Mrs. Tate walked over to the bed and stood beside it. She gave Randy a slight smile, which was the height of warmth and cordiality for her.
"Now, Randy, dear," she said, "let me explain about this job. I will pay you twenty dollars for an hour's work, and all you have to do is follow my instructions, do exactly as I say. There's no effort involved, just the ability to follow orders. Also, you are to tell no one about this job. Is that all understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Randy, "but I still don't understand quite what you want me to do."
"You will," said Angela. She reached into a dresser drawer, took out a twenty dollar bill, and handed it to the boy. "Now, Randy, are you sure you want to do this job, no matter what I ask?"
"I guess so," said Randy, gratefully tucking away the money. "You sure paid me enough."
"Very well," said Angela. 'Take off your clothes."
Randy stared at her. After a very long moment, he said, "What?"
She frowned. "Randy, you're not stupid. You can hear. I said take off your clothes. That's part of the job."
Randy swallowed hard and turned beet red. "Yes, ma'am," he said. He wondered what the heU she had in mind. Maybe the work involved getting wet or dirty, and she didn't want him to wreck his clothes. Whatever it was, he felt pretty embarrassed getting undressed in front of her. He hadn't even undressed in front of his mother for years now. He avoided her gaze and kept blushing hotly as he removed his shoes, jeans, and T-shirt.
Angela eyed him intently. For such a young boy, he was very nicely put together, hard and muscular, beginning to look like a man. She glanced appreciatively at his young penis, which flopped between his slim thighs. Yes, he looked very nice, and he would do just fine. When he was naked, she turned back the covers of the enormous bed and beckoned in that direction. "Get in," she said.
Randy thought he would faint. This was his second weird episode of the day, and it was even more strange and kinky than the business with Miss Lane. It was too late in the year for spring fever, so he really couldn't account for this odd craziness among his middle-aged female customers. He obediently crossed the room, his half-grown cock wagging limply, his young pink balls flopping, and crawled into the big bed. The sheets were satin, and he almost purred with sensual pleasure as the slick material caressed his skin. He sat there in bed and waited, dying of curiosity. What in the world could this fat rich woman have in mind?
Angela nodded approvingly at his silent obedience. The boy wasn't dumb. She deftly flipped the belt of her negligee, and the garment fell open, wafting to her ankles in a filmy cloud of pink. While Randy gawked, she stepped out of it and kicked it away, leaving it for the maid to pick up. Women like Angela Tate couldn't be bothered with such menial tasks. She approached the bed from the other side and crawled in beside Randy. After a moment's thought, she pushed back the heavy fur spread and the satin sheets so that both their naked bodies were fully uncovered.
Randy couldn't believe his good fortune. Already today he'd had an unhurried view up a grown woman's skirt, and now he was seeing a whole naked female body. He stared and stared. He was fascinated with the lush black forest of her mons, but even more excited by her long heavy tits. He wished very much that he could touch her.
"Have you ever made love before, Randy?'" she asked.
That humiliating question again, damn it. "No, ma'am," he said, turning red.
"Good," said Angela.
This was exactly what she wanted, a boy who was eager but inexperienced. An experienced boy would want to fuck her, and Angela Tate did not wish to fuck. She had never liked doing it, not even with her hsuband. Her body was clean and perfumed and massaged, neatly kept, and she wanted it to remain that way, not to be defiled and mussed by some sweaty male body. Randy wouldn't know how to ball her even if he wanted to. He was perfect.
"Very well, Randy," she said. "Just do exactly as I say. There'll be no need for you to talk."
He nodded, his heart pounding. He wondered if he was going to lose his virginity at last. He certainly hoped so. Mrs. Tate wasn't exactly his dream girl-she was too old and fat for that-but she would do just fine. He'd love to be able to tell his friends that he'd actually balled a woman. Again he felt his young cock growing hard. Angela watched it twitching and rising, but she didn't seem very interested. Instead she lay down on her back, and her great long tits sloped heavily onto her chest, the large nipples regarding him like two lazy brown eyes.
"I want you to play with my breasts, Randy," she said. "Do it gently and slowly. Never be rough with a woman's breasts."
"Yes, Ma'am," Randy said happily, his voice coming out in a horny squeak. It seemed like a dream. He prayed he wouldn't wake up. He'd fondled a few tits in his time, but only the tiny budding breasts of girls his own age. In his horny fantasies he fondled great fistfuls of hot flesh, huge quivering mountains-tits just like Mrs. Tate's. He could hardly wait to get his hands on those gigantic boobs. He crawled over next to her and placed his hands on her huge breasts. Instantly his cock shot into rigid full erection. It was even better, more exciting, than he'd dreamed. Her tits overflowed his hands, quivering and pulsing and hot. The flesh was wonderfully silky and smooth. He sighed happily and began to run his hands over the big shaking globes, being careful not to be too rough. Each of her boobs seemed bigger than his head, and he estimated that they must weigh several pounds apiece.
Angela purred softly and closed her eyes. "Yes, Randy," she said, "Just like that. Gently. That's very nice."
Randy caressed and rubbed and gently squeezed her gigantic jugs, growning hornier by the second. He noticed that when his palms grazed her big brown nipples, the flesh grew bumpy and rigid, going into erection just like his peter. The nipples seemed very sensitive, and every time he touched them, she sighed and wriggled with pleasure.
At last she said huskily, "Kiss my breasts, Randy. Use your tongue."
That seemed kind of kinky to him, but he obeyed instantly. After all, she'd paid him twenty dollars', and the work was lots of fun. He had nothing to kick about. He bent low over her hot plump body and began kissing her fat long boobs. He felt the huge globes stiffening and swelling under his busy lips. He followed his instincts, and when he came to one of her nipples, he stuck out his tongue and licked it teasingly. Mrs. Tate moaned with delight and wriggled in hot excitement.
"Oh, yes," she said, "yesss. ..." He tongued the first nipple until it was rigid, then did the same with the other. Glancing downward, he saw that Mrs. Tate was letting her plump pale legs fall open wider and wider as he worked on her, and then he noticed a little puddle of liquid between her legs. He wondered if she had wet herself in her excitement, not understanding that a woman's pussy gives off lubricating juices just like a man's cock. She was moaning steadily now, and her fat body was flushed scarlet with need. She kept her eyes closed, but she was grinning with pleasure as he sucked her big tits.
"Oh, that's nice," she said, "so nice. . . ."
When both her nipples were rigidly erect and her big breasts swollen with arousal, she suddenly grabbed his hand and moved it quickly down to the tightly curled forest of her mons fur. Randy watched in wonder as she guided him. He let his hand go limp, so she could show him what she wanted, and Angela took his index finger and moved it slowly through the tickling black curls, between the fleshy burning lips of her mons. She let her legs fall wide open, and Randy saw, between the hairy lips, a tiny red bud of flesh. He had no idea what it was for. Maybe women used it to pee, he didn't know. Mrs. Tate placed his fingertip on the little nub, and it felt very hot and slick.
"Rub me there gently," she said. "Play with my clit."
Her clit. Randy stored the name away. She let go of his hand, and he began to rub his finger back and forth over the tiny shaft. Mrs. Tate loved it. It seemed far more sensitive than her breasts. She-squealed and moaned and grinned insanely as he played with her there, and Randy felt Iter slit becoming rapidly wet and puffy. Naturally he used the opportunity to get a good close look at all her mysterious female parts, and while the general layout looked just like Miss Lane's pussy, he saw that Mrs. Tate's features were fatter, pinker, and more lush. She had the same dark little hole at her very center, and thick juice was running steadily from it, accounting for the wet pool on the sheets beneath her. The puffy pink folds of her labia were fringed with thick black hair, a veritable forest, in contrast to Miss Lane's wispy auburn fringe. Randy steadily stroked her tiny red clit, and before long the palm of his hand was dripping with her juices.
"Oh, God," she moaned, "that feels so good. Kiss it now, Randy use your tongue on it."
Again he thought it was kind of a kinky idea, but he obeyed. She was paying for it, and he intended to do a good job. He bent down, stuck out his tongue, and placed the wet tip on her quivering little bud. Mrs. Tate squealed shrilly and drew her plump white legs up to her chest, opening herself fully to. him. This gave Randy a much better view between her legs. The dark hole of her vagina was now fully exposed and seemed much larger, gasping and quaking and gushing its juices. He couldn't resist exploring it. He kept licking her throbbing hot clit with quick stiff motions of his tongue, and at the same time he inserted a finger in her vagina. To his astonishment, he had no trouble at all in penetrating her. His finger popped right in, clear to the last knuckle, and he felt it enveloped in burning wetness, a nipping muscular sheath. If this was her cunt, if this was where his cock was supposed to go, it would feel really great. Again he prayed that this was her ultimate goal, that he was going to get laid at last.
"Take your finger out of my cunt, Randy," she said crisply. "I didn't ask you to do that."
Reluctantly the boy obeyed. He applied his tongue to her twitching clitoris and licked it swiftly, almost roughly. She howled with delight, and great floods of pussy juice burst from her cunt to wet his chin. Randy jammed his mouth onto the wet hot shaft of flesh and began to suck it, correctly guessing that she wanted more friction. He felt the tiny clit go stiff and erect in his mouth.
"Oh, my God, yes, YES," wailed Angela Tate. "Eat me, suck me! Ahhhh, God, YES!"
Randy sucked harder and harder, tasting her salty juices, almost drowning in her gushing pussy cream. Her thick mons hair tickled his nose, and her fat body began to buck and writhe violently. Again he stored away information for future use-a woman's clit seemed to be the key to her response, a highly sensitive spot that could move her to convulsions of pleasure. Angela Tate's calm dignity was completely gone now. She wailed and moaned and gasped like a wild woman, throwing her plump paie legs high in the air. Randy felt powerful and virile because he was able to do this to her. He might be only fourteen, but this rich older woman was in his power, the willing slave of his busy tongue.
This seemed to be the moment for his own fulfillment. She wasn't likely to get any hotter than she was now. She seemed oblivious to everything around her, her eyes tightly shut, her gushing steamy pussy wide open to him. Randy's young cock was hard as a rock and aching with need. He decided to take a chance. He glanced at the wide dark hole of her vaginal mouth, marking the spot in his memory, and then he quickly leaped on top of her shaking writhing body, jamming his hard little prick against the mushy tissues of her vulva. If he could just get it in. ...
"Randy, stop that," she said angrily. "I told you to obey orders. Get off me."
Quivering with frustration, Randy obeyed. He felt angry and cheated. Damn it all, wasn't he supposed to have any fun? Was all the pleasure for her? It seemed unfair for her to get him so aroused and then not do anything about it. At least Miss Lane had jacked him off.
Angela replied to his silent thoughts. "I'm paying you, Randy," she said coolly. "That's what you get out of it. If that's not enough for you, we'll stop."
Miserably he shook his head. He needed that twenty dollars. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Tate," he said. "What do you want me to do now?"
"Just what you were doing," she said. "And don't stop until I tell you to."
"Yes, ma'am," said Randy.
He bent and started licking her clit again, and it didn't take her long to resume her enjoyment.
"Yes," she cooed, ''yes, yesss.... That's nice, dear. Now start sucking me again, like you did before.,,
Randy obeyed. He planted his lips around her stiff little clit and sucked it steadily, hotly, bathing it with his saliva. He felt her fat pelvis slowly rising beneath him as her body arched in excitement, almost lifting him off the bed. Again her pussy grew hot, puffy, and wet. She wailed and whimpered, her plump body quivering and shaking. Randy could tell easily enough that she was horny, but what he didn't know was that women could cum, just like men. It was a great surprise to him when she suddenly screamed with pleasure and her plevis began jerking in powerful spasms of climax, nearly throwing him off the bed. Only with the greatest effort did he keep his frantically sucking mouth on her clit.
"Oooooo," she screeched, "aaahhh, AAAGGGHHH!"
Randy finally had to surface before he smothered in her juices. He sat up and saw that Mrs. Tate was lying on her back panting and grinning. She seemed very happy with what had happened. The pool on the sheets was even wider now, and her scarlet sKt was glistening with wetness. At last she opened her eyes and regarded him a bit dizzily, as if she'd forgotten his existence.
"You may go now," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," he said gloomily. He'd so hoped that she'd at least jerk him off. He had a helluva time getting his jeans on over his erection. Mrs. Tate said nothing more and seemed impatient for him to leave. As he opened the bedroom door, he was almost knocked down by a flying bundle of fur. A small dog raced past him and jumped onto the bed.
"Charles," said Angela. "Hello, sweetums." The little dog, some kind of silky-haired miniature breed, buried its nose between Angela's legs, and she gave a little gurgle of excitement. Randy would have liked to watch, but he was already late for work. He hurried downstairs, out the door, and found his bike. Damn, he would have loved to stop in an alley and jack off. His cock was so hard, he could scarcely pedal. However, he had several more deliveries to make before his day's work was finished.
Women, he thought. They're nuts. If they were so horny-like Miss Lane and Mrs. Tate-why did they want to play games? Why didn't they just go to bed with a guy and get it over with? He wondered if he would ever understand.