Chapter 11
There was just one bit of unfinished business.
She wanted Mike Barton's young body again-all of it-and she intended to kiss and suck and feel and smell it, and finally to fuck it. She wanted to reduce him to the last decibel of his boyish lust.
Mrs. Barton was keeping an eagle eye on her stepson, so the utmost caution would have to be exercised. It wouldn't be an easy thing to do, but Laura was confident that Mike would cooperate in every way necessary. There is nothing more important to a lusty, male adolescent than the tempting softness of a willing cunt. She was sure that Mike would have strangled his mother in order to satisfy some deeply buried compulsion to be wicked. He knew-because of his own stupid, hypocritical confession to his stepmother-that he shouldn't touch Laura again.
It would make him feel delectably evil to fuck once more the very cunt he had betrayed-and do it while knowing that his word to his stepmother was being broken with every thrust of his voracious prick.
Knowing all of this to be the case, Laura called the high school which Mike attended, and asked to speak with him.
His sullen voice came on with a husk.
"Mike? This is Laura Miller."
There was a dull, uncertain puase from his end, then: "What the hell are you calling me here for." His voice was low, guarded.
"Can you talk?"
His whisper came back. "Barely, damn it. The superintendent's secretary is right across the room ..."
Laura smiled. "You mean you haven't put your prick into her yet? I'll bet she'd like it. Glance out of the corner of your eye at her-she's probably giving her undivided attention to your fly."
"Goddamn it," he hissed, softly, "if you called me up to-"
"I called you because I need fucked. By you. You were right, I don't want to go away to California without one more taste of what you have between your legs."
Another desperate pause. "I don't know how you've got the guts to ask something like that after what I've done to you. Mom was ready to kill you, baby."
"Your stepmother is just jealous. But I don't care-and I'm convinced you don't care, either. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm not talking about us as people-I'm talking about that magnificent young prick of yours, and I'm talking about my greedy cunt. Let's fuck-blindly and without thinking. Give me something to remember you by, that's all I ask."
"You're really going to the coast, then?"
"Yes, but not until I have the pleasure of feeling your hot sperm rolling down my legs again."
His voice was reduced to a hoarse gasp. "Stop talking like that, for Christ's sake. I'm standing here getting the goddamnedest hard-on!"
She grinned into the receiver. "Bring it over with you tonight, and I promise to do exactly what you wanted the last time."
"You'll blow me? You'll suck it?"
"Until you'll have to crawl back to your mummy."
"You're not kidding me?"
"Have I ever, about that?"
"Mom has been a sonofabitch lately. It won't be easy to figure out a way to-"
"You're a bright, clever boy. I'll trust you to find a way. Just keep thinking of what we're going to do."
He laughed softly. "Don't worry, honey. I will. You suck my dick and I'll fuck you to death."
"Till death us do part, then. Good-bye, high school hero."
When she hung up the receiver, she rubbed the pouting lips of her pussy through her panties, feeling the hot moistness of her desire.
She got a mental picture of her young stud turning away from the phone with the front of his pants abulge and the eyes of the secretary starting to grow wide with the sight of his hidden but hard prick.
No doubt it was hard on women who worked in high schools to have all that available young meat around and not be able to touch it because they didn't have the guts.
When he came to her, she was ready. Her bags were packed and waiting in the hallway by the front door of the apartment.
Tonight-her last night in the apartment-would be the most special night she had ever spent in the company of a male. It would be that because she had learned everything she needed to know about herself, and she could put all the experience to good use with a hot-blooded, ruthless, cunt-crazy young stud like Mike Barton. The combination was almost as perfect as the opportunity: Mike would be playing his role with the full knowledge that his mother's rage would be unbounded at the hint of such treachery-and she would play her role with the deft touch of a Messalina seeking sweet revenge. But overriding both of those abstract rewards would be that provided by the libidinous drives of their animal natures.
She set the stage well. She stripped the bedroom of every piece of furniture except the bed. Then she brought in all the lamps in the apartment and focused them on the bed itself. When they were all switched on, the rectangle of mattress and sheet looked like an operating table. And that was precisely what it would become, in a way. She intended to examine Mike Barton's male, adolescent body with the fine care of an expert-an illustrated anatomy lesson for an audience of one!
She spent the remainder of the afternoon going around with a small, curling smile on her lips. She imagined that Bev and her Claude were both watching her, admiring her, approving of her zest for originality.
Mike arrived just after dark.
His harsh, almost vicious tap at the kitchen door sent an erotic flutter through her blood.
She let him in-and was astounded to see that he was wearing track shorts, cleated shoes, and a sweat-stained T-shirt with his high school emblem stamped across it.
"What kind of excuse did you use to get out of the house with that garb?" she grinned.
His breath was husky in his throat, as if he'd been running for miles.
"I haven't been home. I called mom from school and told her that I had to stay for a meeting of the Athletic Council."
"And so if you haven't been home yet, they won't expect you until you get there, eh? Clever boy, like I said . . ."
"Not very. I fooled around too long on the track runs, and got back after the gym was closed. My clothes were locked up. I had to come down so goddamned many back alleys to get here that-"
"I'm glad. You look like a young Greek god. I just hope you're prepared to fuck like one."
He flushed, but his grin spread slackly across his face. "I've been horny all afternoon thinking about the way you talked on the phone to me. Christ, you're a real slut, you know that."
Her hand slithered down and cupped his genitals through the silky thinness of the track shorts. She could feel his big, soft prick doubled up under a thick jock strap. She kept her hand there and felt it harden slightly.
"Look-like I said, the gym was closed. I'm sweaty as a horse. Lemme take a shower first, and-"
"No. No shower."
He stared at her, then licked his lower lip. "Hey, baby, I stink. I've been running around that fucking track for at least two hours. You wouldn't want-"
"I know what I want. I want you just like you are, with all that nice male smell on your body. It sends me."
He grinned at her. "Okay-if it doesn't bother you, it sure as hell doesn't bother me. You can smell me anywhere you want to, nice and perverted-like ..."
She still had her hand stubbornly on the mound of his jock, and she could feel his roguish prick turning into a coil of stone.
"Let's go into the bedroom again," she breathed.
"Then what?"
"Leave that to me."
Again, the abandoned, immoral trek was made to her bedroom. When he saw the set-up, the cluster of lamps, the bed, he grinned and whistled low under his breath.
"What the shit are you planning to do-film us?"
"Not a bad idea-it would make a perfect little birthday present for your adorable stepmother. But have no fear. The lights are for my benefit. I like to see what I'm enjoying."
"Just so you do enjoy it-you and me."
"Pile out of your cute track duds and get on all fours in the middle of the bed. Dog-like."
He chuckled and began to take off his shorts.
She didn't have much to take off of herself. She had been naked for hours under the thin dressing gown. She simply let it fall from her shoulders to her feet, then stepped out of it-nude as a peach.
He was totally naked now, smiling at her.
He stroked his large cock once or twice with his hand, and it stood out from between his legs at horizontal stiffness. His hard-on was so demanding that the twin bags hanging at the root were pulled out an inch or so from the apex of his loins.
"Sure you don't wanta suck on it right now?" he husked. "Come taste this big roll of meat-come lick it a few times."
She shook her head. "Not yet. Get on the bed, the way I told you. On all fours. And get your legs apart wide. I want your balls to hang down nice and full."
He groaned with excitement and crawled onto the bed at once. He assumed the position as naturally as an animal, balancing the main portion of his body on his arms and knees. He turned his head around and looked at her with a cunning grin. Then he made a comical, tiger noise in his throat.
"Grrr..."
She smiled, and strolled to the side of the bed away from him. His lean, virile buttocks were pushed up in the air in full view of her gaze. Slowly, she snapped on all the lamps . . .
She studied the dark crack that ran sharply down between the curves of his ass. The thought of watching him shit came into her mind through some ruttish back door, and she tried to push the thought away. But the tone of the idea hung in her mind, and she warmed to it.
Without a word, she leaned far over and put her nose to within an inch of his asshole-and sniffed.
He smelled strongly of sweat and the faint leavings of turds.
She moved her nose up and down very slowly, smelling him carefully, missing nothing. The healthy odor was stronger where the crack of his buttocks ended and where the hanging brownness of his balls began.
She leaned lower and smelled of his balls. They were quite large and almost hairless-big, overgrown bags of nectar, and all for her.
She thought of the thick, hot sperm hidden away inside those orbs of lust, and a thrill went through her heating pussy. Before the night was over, she'd have all his come lathering the dark, hot corners of her cunt, but for the present, she was content to just look at them-to simply smell them, admire them.
She could see, by glancing between his spraddled legs, that his cock was stiff as a mule's. But she made no effort to touch it. She was amused and gratified, of course, that he was already hot and horny. But she wanted to make him even hotter, and she knew exactly how.
She drew her nostrils away from the enchantment of his rear, and smelled slowly along the backs of his legs-through the light sprinkle of hair that began high up on the center of his upper thighs and extended in ever-thicker growth down over the calves of his legs. She followed the outline of his thickly muscled, still-developing legs, and stopped at his naked feet.
Balanced as he was, the bottoms of his feet and heels were turned upward. On impulse, she smelled his feet and toes-and then began to lick them.
"Jesus," he whispered, arching his neck around to watch her. "That tickles nice-!"
She continued to tickle him, using the soft flatness of her tongue to lave the bottoms of his feet and the rough texture of his heels.
Then she moved upward over his calves, licking and sucking at the hair on his legs as she explored.
He was breathing harder every second. When she got to his round, firm, warm nuts, he gasped.
"Lick 'em!"
She put just the point of her tongue at the bottom of his left nut, and teased it with small, pushing strokes. He waggled his buttocks slowly, making his balls swing gently against her tongue. She licked with longer, broader sweeps, laving the underside of both his testicles until her saliva gleamed on the brownish crinkle of his skin.
He giggled suddenly, like a small boy having his ribs teased with a feather.
Her appetite for his hanging globes of meat shifted into another gear as she yawned her mouth open and deftly sucked half of one inside. She ran her tongue in velvety circles around the fragrantly scented, warm nut until he groaned with the lusty pleasure of it.
"Goddamn, baby!" he gasped. "You're gettin' me hot as a bull doing that!"
She let the testicle fall wetly out of her mouth and sucked in the other one, repeating the process. She was sure that his nuts had grown larger and firmer from her attention. When both of them were glistening with her spit, she gave them several more flat laps of her tongue, then moved up to his asshole.
The smell was still there, but what had first struck her as a mildly offensive odor now seemed a cantharis flirting shamelessly with her senses. She stuck her nose half an inch into the very bud of his anus, and smelled deeply of the fetid hole.
She felt a small, involuntary shudder of surprise and shock go through him, and that pleased her. She wanted to shock him! She wanted his young goat-brain to know that she was capable of running circles around his naive ideas concerning sex!
When she drew her nose from the crack of his asshole, she dove in again-this time with her tongue. She slid the wetted point deep into the musky slit of his buttocks and began to rim him, to lick him, to suck his arrogant butt. It drove him wild.
"Yeah," he breathed, huskily. "Tongue my ass, sweetheart! Nobody's ever done that to me-nobody!"
She lapped and sucked at the pungent trench separating his buttocks until the root of her tongue ached. He didn't want her to stop. Instead, he lowered his body down on his shoulders and pushed his ass higher up into the air. Then he reached back with both hands and spread the firm cheeks of his rear even wider, making a kind of wide, hairless cunt of his anus.
She crammed her rolled tongue as deeply as she could into that most improbable of love-tunnels, probing blindly for his shit.
He grunted like a passionate young animal through the long minutes of her perverted act, then fell forward exhausted on the bed. A loud, greedy fart erupted from his bowels, making her grin as she licked the taste from her lips.
"Turn over now," she demanded, coldly.
He rolled, throwing his legs into an obscene, frog-like spraddle as he did so.
His furiously stiffened cock plopped against his thigh, then stood straight up between his legs, the bloated head pointing directly at the ceiling.
It was the most remarkable hard-on she had yet seen. The kind of total erection that only a seventeen-year-old boy, drowning in his own lust, can produce.
She crouched over him, and he reached blindly for the swollen swing of her tits.
"Don't touch me, damn you!" she hissed.
His hands fell awkwardly, obediently away.
She didn't know why she didn't want to be touched at that particular moment. Certainly it would have been pleasurable. The wanton license she had been taking with his perfect young body had driven spikes of lust into her pores. The nipples of her tits were sticking out like fat, pink corks, and her cunt could have taken his whole fist and loved it. And yet, she didn't want to be touched. Why?
And then she remembered the vicious way in which Jack and the Negro had tied her down, to do with her body as they pleased.
She wanted to do that with Mike Barton-to be master of his emotions. To own him, use him in any unholy way that she pleased.
Dipping her head down like some erotic bird, she ran the tip of her tongue in light, teasing strokes just over the tip of his throbbing prick. It tasted salty and hot, and she lapped it a bit harder.
He groaned and let a teeth-clenched curse escape from his throat. But it was a curse of pure lechery, not anger. It was obviously what he had wanted. It was what he had dreamed about in a thousand hours of masturbation-the lascivious, sluttish, mindless lapping of a woman's tongue over his horny prick!
"Eat it!" he begged. "God-suck me off! Make me come!!"
It was time, she thought, to slake her thirst with hot spurtings of his juice.
Lacing both her hands around the base of his stiffened tool, so that just the head of his cock reared up like some pink piece of lush fruit, she began to suck him in earnest.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw with satisfaction how his feet curled inward, toe-knuckles white with strain. She saw his finger digging like a claw into the thin sheet over the mattress. She felt the beat of his panting stomach against her forearms.
She was bringing him to a climax slowly and powerfully-giving him pleasure he had never dreamed possible.
Sperm began to run uncontrollably out of the eyelet of his cock long before he spasmed. It was the precursor of the flood to come, and she licked and sucked at it like a young bear getting honey from ajar.
He made animal noises for her, forgetting every language except the language of lust.
She sucked with deeper, more powerful strokes when she felt his ultimate vibrations approaching. At that precise moment when his balls began to explode with all the potency and force of his being, she pulled her hands away and drove the whole of his cock deep into her throat.
His prick rocked her wanton throat with savage gluts of boiling semen. He bucked his hips hard, using her mouth like a hot pussy.
She drank it all down, sucking him dry, caressing the column of his sex with her thickened tongue until he was incapable of making his prick move at all.
Then she lifted her mouth up from his loins and let the swollen, wet sausage of his horsy cock lean weakly over against his leg.
His eyes were shut, his face a deeply flushed mask of total contentment.
She waited until his eyelids fluttered open, then she smiled at him.
"Laura..." he whispered, thickly. "I-I love you for that!"
But it was too late for that word. It held no meaning for her. She swung her leg over his chest, then crawled forward until the thickened lips of her wet cunt were hanging over his youthful mouth.
"Eat me-lover." she demanded, woodenly.
She lowered her pussy against his waiting tongue, and began to rock her hips obscenely.
As he sucked, she glanced back at his prick. Already it had started to rise again, growing into another nice horn of stiffness and plenty.
She pressed her cunt harder against his face, feeling the thick lips spread like an open melon over his jaws.
His loving tongue was up into her four or five inches . . . sucking . . . eating . . . getting what they both wanted . . .