Chapter 1
Spud Jamison had to admit to himself that he was messing around pretty intimately with Donna Overstreet that day in history class when Miss Parks took him to old Principal Rankin's office. But it was Frani Cravens who really made his cock hot.
Sex had been bugging him bad. He'd been pretty naive up until the past summer, and some of the things he'd learned when he'd worked down at the ice plant gave him the stone ache. He sure knew now that life wasn't at all like the Cinderella story where everybody stays clean and untouched.
Clean and untouched - that was a laugh! A lot of the things he'd learned were dirty as all get-out, but he knew now they were things that happened every day, and right on his own block.
He'd screwed his first female that past summer, and it had changed him. He felt severe tensions now, and he tried to assert his masculinity in any way he could.
He liked to talk about girls and pussy, and brag about how successful he'd been. He wanted everybody to say, "Spud Jamison's a real devil with the ladies!" His ambition was to make a lot of money, drive a Cadillac, and have a string of gorgeous cunts around him all the time.
"For my money," he'd tell the other boys, "fucking is what a guy lives for!"
He hadn't wanted to go back to old Rankin's salt mine when school started, and he guessed he wouldn't have bothered if it hadn't been for his mom, and Frani, and football.
Spud was eighteen, and when he'd mentioned quitting, his mom had said, "Gilbert, you need a good education. You can graduate this year if you try. What can a boy do these days if he don't get through high school?"
He'd laughed, but it had sounded bitter. "Gosh, Mom, nobody gets an education in old Rankin's school!" he'd said. Rankin had come to finish out the term last year when the former principal, Professor Sims, got a bellyful of the way things were going and had resigned. Rankin couldn't control the kids at Valley High any better than Professor Sims had. If it hadn't been for Miss Parks, the pupils would have owned the place. He'd sighed and said, "Mom, what good is writing all them themes and memorizing a lot of stuff? If it wasn't for them, school might be fun."
Then he remembered what Frani Cravens had told him just before the start of school.
"Spud," she'd said, "I'm going to liven things up this year!" Her plans and activities as leader of the Pep Club had sounded exciting. Valley High had a solid program of football, basketball, and cheerleading. It's a part of every high school, though Spud's pop and old Miss Parks both howled that it was spending tax money foolishly.
Spud said, "Mom, I'm glad it's my last year."
"You'll be glad when you get your diploma," she'd shrugged.
Spud's mom and pop still treated him like a little kid and hounded him all the time. His mom didn't like for him to watch TV crime movies, and she worried if he stayed out late at night. She always looked anxious, like she thought he was going to blow up Fort Knox. At that, she was easier to get along with than his pop was. His pop said all Spud treasured were material success and sensory enjoyment.
Miss Parks, Spud supposed, felt the same way about him that his pop did.
Spud had never taken much to school. He felt bored, restless, and inadequate. At times, he was surly and moody. School frustrated him, and he reacted to his frustrations by aggression. Lots of other frustrated kids might have drawn into a shell, or developed headaches, but Spud clowned in class and made fun of the good pupils. He talked a lot about sex, and before he really knew what was happening, he'd gained a reputation. At least, he wasn't a nobody, he'd tell himself.
"School's undemocratic!" he'd hurled once at Miss Parks. "All you ever give us is sweet talk, like my old man! And what's so wonderful about my old man? He yaps about how he's worked since he was twelve, and helped his folks! So what's he got now? He don't even drive a decent car!"
"Gilbert, your tough guy attitude, your cynicism, your pretense at worldly wisdom, are just a facade of a rebel rebelling against himself," she'd told him.
He'd snorted. He bet the old lady hadn't been screwed in her whole life.
She hadn't seen Donna Overstreet when she'd leaned teasingly close, and her big tits, under her thin blouse, had touched Spud, burning like fire. "Spud," Donna had whispered, "you want to join our 'F' Club?"
"What's that?" he'd asked, just to bug her. Horrified, Frani had already told him how the boys were supposed to be led before the girls, their cocks hot and throbbing, like prize bulls at an auction. Then the girls would draw lots to see who got the biggest pecker for their bedroom activities.
Donna moved closer. She and Spud had a lot in common. They both craved thrills and excitement.
"Come on, Donna," he'd said, "let's have the gory details!"
Her nearness made him so uncomfortable he could hardly breathe. His cock was tenting the front of his pants.
"First, we'll all wear sweaters with a big 'F' on them," she started out.
Spud snickered and gave her a wise look.
"Okay, smarty," she retorted, " 'F' stands for Friday Night Club, or anything else your imagination wants to make of it!"
"My imagination's doing fine," Spud said.
"Each boy will be required to screw any time a girl feels in the mood."
"A woman's world!" Spud exclaimed. "But I don't mind!"
He reached under her blouse and pinched her tit, and she squealed.
That's when Miss Parks caught them.
Spud lost his erection.
"I wasn't doing nothing," Spud insisted stubbornly, when Miss Parks led him before Principal Rankin.
Rankin was a large, weary-looking man. His skin had a grayish pallor, and he was flabby. Spud thought he was trying to be God Almighty, but had failed. He remained seated at his desk, glancing up at Miss Parks and ignoring Spud completely. His face was pained, like he'd eaten rat poison for breakfast, and his eyes were a pale, watery blue. His scant hair was pasted down with some kind of grease, and his long, hooked nose looked longer than ever.
Miss Parks stiffened when old Rankin refused to stand up. She cleared her throat a couple of times, and Spud thought she would choke. Rankin invited her to be seated and motioned Spud into a chair opposite his desk.
Then he began squirming. Spud didn't like anything about old Rankin or his office. He wished he'd hurry up and bawl him out and let him go.
Glancing up at the wall clock, Spud noticed it was almost four o'clock. He was due out for football. His impatience, he figured, was only natural and normal, since thousands of fellows all over the nation were feeling the same way. Football was the only thing a lot of them came to school for.
Spud liked football and was pretty good as an end. He racked up on the basketball court, too. Man, he liked sports! And with a chick like Frani Cravens yelling her head off for you, how could you lose?
Miss Parks made an odd, impatient noise. Spud imagined what it would be like to see her and old Rankin in bed together.
Rankin straightened and gave her his full attention.
"Well," he asked, "what's Gilbert been up to now?" He spoke sharply, like he was angry at Miss Parks for disturbing him with her problems.
"I didn't do nothing," Spud said again.
Miss Parks wrinkled her funny nose and stared her embarrassment through horn-rimmed glasses.
"Sir, Gilbert Jamison was acting immoral!" she got out as quickly as she could.
That really grabbed Spud, especially the way Miss Parks blushed and jumped up from her chair. Her nearsightedness nearly tripped her as she beat it for the door. Spud laughed aloud when old Rankin called her back.
"What? What's that?" he stammered. "What's that again?"
Miss Parks' face went beet-red, and Spud felt almost sorry for her. But his thoughts were mostly on old Rankin, who lived next door to Spud and his parents in a new housing development Spud's pop had started.
Rankin didn't like it out there.
He didn't like anything.
And, most of all he didn't like Spud.
But the feeling was mutual. Rankin was full of the same kind of bull and hot air Spud's pop was, always jawing about high taxes, economic security, morals, and the younger generation. Spud's pop did well enough in real estate, but to hear him talk to old Rankin, you'd have thought he was ready to go on relief!
Spud watched Miss Parks stand first on one leg, then the other. She refused to sit down this time, and she wouldn't look at old Rankin, either.
Perversely, Spud decided to force her to tell what he'd done. That ought to be amusing.
"What did I do, I'd like to know?" he whined, looking innocently up at her.
"You know what you did, Gilbert Jamison!" she returned harshly. "That will be enough out of you!"
Spud held in a belly laugh. Pretending serious innocence, he asked, "Miss Parks, didn't you teach us in history that the law must inform a guy what he's charged with?"
That got her, just like he knew it would. He knew he'd hit her where she'd have to talk. For a moment, she looked as if the trap had sprung and caught her.
Spud sat back and waited, pleased with himself.
She turned so old Rankin couldn't see her face. "That I did, Gilbert," she said determinedly. "All right - I caught Gilbert fondling a girl in a way he shouldn't have!"
Spud snickered.
Rankin looked down his long nose and coughed.
Then he began fumbling nervously with some papers on his desk. A heavy silence hung over the office as Spud sat there, enjoying what he'd done.
But Miss Parks wasn't the type to be daunted, once she got started on a thing. She screwed up her mouth and went on, "If you would excuse Gilbert for a minute, I have another matter to report, too."
Her jaws tightened, and Spud could tell she was fighting hard for self-control. Rankin motioned him into the adjoining room, but neither Rankin nor Miss Parks noticed that he left the door ajar so he could hear.
Miss Parks had a reputation for being a bloodhound, and none of the kids ever knew how she went about snuffing out so many things. Spud wasn't exactly surprised when she began telling old Rankin about Donna's 'F' Club.
And, man, did she know the details! Rankin squirmed as Miss Parks, talking nervously and fast, rattled on. At last, she ran down.
"Mere rumors, I'd judge," old Rankin said, making a fruitless gesture with his hands. He didn't like to face any kind of problem. "Nothing to get alarmed about," he went on, trying to act undisturbed.
Spud wondered how he'd stack up in the hot-rod line. He bet his cock wasn't any bigger than a weenie.
Miss Parks flared, "I've reported it! You should make an investigation!"
Rankin scowled. He didn't like being told what to do. But he used patience with Miss Parks.
"The newspapers have too vividly described the escapades of our youth in recent months," he told her. "They've shocked and disturbed many parents. But it's simply because they have no better news -" Spud thought: That's not the song he sings to Pop! He and Spud's pop were both convinced that young folks were headed straight for hell. Screwing around a little, they thought, was very evil.
"I work with high school boys and girls," Miss Parks reminded sternly. "You're passing this off too lightly, if I may say so!"
Hell, Spud thought, who could stop her?
"Perhaps," old Rankin conceded. "But there isn't much we can do. An investigation could involve influential families and cost us our jobs. Nobody ever gets thanked for bringing a scandal to light. Anyway, why should we make it our problem when it doesn't happen at school?"
"May I point out that it does happen at school!" Miss Parks said stiffly, her lips tight. "Take this incident with Gilbert Jamison -" While Spud listened, they jawed back and forth. It wasn't very amusing, and he got to wondering about their sex lives. Rankin had a young, hot-looking wife that Spud figured he wasn't man enough for. And Miss Parks - she was about fifty - and he bet she'd never had a cock up her snatch in her life!
Finally, Rankin dismissed Miss Parks and called to Spud.
"You're over the compulsory school age, Gilbert," he reminded. "If you choose not to behave, it will be easy enough to dismiss you - permanently. You understand? At your age, you should be setting a good example. I suppose you've heard that before?"
"Yeah," Spud said, "that's my pop's theme song!"
Just then, the four o'clock bell rang. Spud thrust out his jaw. The team was playing a conference game Friday night, and Coach expected him out for football.
He reminded old Rankin.
Smiling a faint apology, Rankin went on, "I'd hate to suspend you, Gilbert. But you know the rules -" "Shit!" Spud said, "I've got to go!"
"You haven't been dismissed yet, Gilbert."
While there was a threat in old Rankin's voice, he sounded weak. Spud was getting up to leave, anyway.
The phone rang.
Rankin answered, and somebody at the other end of the line started chewing him out. The conversation got so interesting that Spud stayed and listened.
Rankin hummed and hawed and yes-sirred and no-sirred through a long telephone conversation. Finally, it ended, and Rankin cradled the phone.
"I'm going low," Spud said.
Rankin's pale blue eyes tried to nail him to the chair. "I'll dismiss you, young man, when I'm ready!" he growled.
Old Rankin wore a dirty shirt, with a button missing over his navel. Spud stared at the black hairs on his gut and gritted his teeth when Rankin started lecturing.
Then he laughed aloud.
Why was he waiting for old Rankin to dismiss him? Who did he think he was, anyway?
"Coach expects me out for football practice," Spud growled. "I'm going now!"
Rankin's anger flared. But it died shortly, and Spud supposed he was smart enough to know that Coach had a lot more influence around town than he did.
But he was trying hard to make it look like he was boss.
"You may go now, Gilbert," Rankin said.
Spud was already through the door. You didn't have to be very smart to outwit old Rankin once you got your brain in gear! A cold anger got into him as he hurried to his locker. He despised old Rankin's weakness.
"The damned old fool!" he gritted through his teeth.
As he left the building, his anger faded slowly.
His thoughts slipped back to Donna Overstreet. She even smelled of sex and the smell got into his nostrils, making the blood flow into his cock.' How he'd like to put his prong into her, push it up as far as he could! He'd never screwed Donna, but he figured she'd be a pushover.
Christ, his pecker was hard! How in the hell could it get so goddamned hard and hot so fast? It was throbbing and dripping tears for a nice, tight, juicy cunt!
He ran his hand over the front of his pants, grabbed his curving organ, and squeezed.
"Okay, baby," he told it. "Papa will find you some meat!"
He petted his hard, throbbing penis.
Jesus, he had to have a piece of ass!
Spud somewhat conquered his passion and headed for the gym to suit up. Coach Nichols would want to know why he was late, and he'd tell him plenty about old Rankin. Coach liked him a lot, and the feeling was mutual.
When he met some of the scrubs coming in to shower, he realized it was too late to report to the field. Blaming old Rankin because he'd missed football practice, he plopped down on the gym steps, feeling weak. His cock was flaccid now as a new surge of anger took over.
Inside the gym, the cheerleaders were practicing their yells.
VICTORY - are we in it?
Well, I guess! Will we win it? Yes! Yes! Yes!
Frani Cravens' mellow, sexy voice came to him above all the others. He forgot about Rankin, about Donna, and the very thought of Frani made him ache all over.
He'd dated Frani off and on for a long time, and he guessed she was the only girl he'd ever really cared for. Girls, he'd learned that past summer, were objects to be manipulated and used. Fool 'em and fuck 'em - all except Frani.
Oh, he'd teased Frani, and once he'd even finger-fucked her. She'd let him get his hand under her miniskirt, and his fingers had parted her cunt lips, then slid in. She crossed her legs, and he couldn't go in very far. She had reached out and run her hand over his fly.
"It's like a sausage," she'd breathed. "And, oh God, Spud, it's big - big!"
God, it felt wonderful, just having her feeling it!
But she shuddered and drew away, letting go of his cock.
Spud still had his finger in her pussy. He was wiggling it, making her squirm.
"Please, let me screw you," he'd begged. "How about it?" "Oh, no, Spud -" His cock was still in his pants, the head of it dripping sticky goo on his navel. He knew Frani was a virgin, and he wanted to be the first to fuck her. God, it would be good! There would be blood, but it would be Frani's blood. His white-hot finger licked up her slit, and she gasped.
"Hey, you're hot, baby!"
"You're hot, too, Spud."
Quickly, he unzipped his fly and pulled his tool out. Frani held her breath.
Spud was breathing hard as his fingers guided it, fumbling her cunt opening. She hunched away.
"Don't Spud. It's too big -" "Honey, I won't hurt you."
He never got it in, but the heat of her body got into him, and before he knew it, he felt himself ready to come. His balls were rolling beneath his swollen cock, and his cock throbbed. She rubbed the shaft with her fingers, and it spouted, shooting all over the place.
He groaned as his body was wracked with spasmodic twitchings. Then he felt weak.
After it was all over, he'd felt frustrated. It was like the time when he was twelve, and a redheaded tomboy lived on his block. She used to play football with the boys out on a vacant lot, surrounded by tall weeds. And so far as Spud knew then, football was just an innocent game.
Until -he started getting itchy feelings during pileups, a tingling sensation along his thighs, and a hardness and strange throbbing between his legs.
One time, this redheaded bombshell knocked him clean off his feet and toppled him in the dirt. He managed to look up and get a good impression of the way she was built.
He supposed a girl would get mad if a boy gawked, but this kid didn't. She just grinned and gave him a come-on look. It made a nervous flutter hop through his insides. He knew something was going on between them, but he was too dumb then to know what it was.
"You're a swell girl," he'd said, kind of sweet-like.
She'd giggled.
"I never told a girl anything like that before. Honest!" he'd said.
When she'd stepped closer, he'd wanted to run, but she had him blocked. And then that hunk of redheaded baby-fat groped him and gave him his first kiss.
Looking back, the whole thing was laughable. The kiss had encouraged Spud, so he'd put his hand over the front of her blouse and squeezed. Hard.
She'd trembled, and Spud supposed he'd been as stiff as a board. A moment later, she'd pulled him close and was trying to make him move against her body.
That had been too much.
Hot, breathless - and plenty scared - he'd pushed her away and took off like a bat out of hell. Nobody had ever told him that a girl could turn a boy into a jellyfish.
After that, Spud and the little redhead had just sort of fooled around innocently. He'd liked kissing and necking, but he'd never got around to making the whole scene. Maybe it was because they didn't know where to go to do it. Something might have developed eventually if Spud's pop hadn't started the new housing development and they'd moved.
The next girl who'd made a jellyfish out of him was Frani.
In one short summer, a beanpole of a girl had blossomed into a pretty neat figure, with ample tits and rounded hips. She walked in a way that made Spud feel hot desires which actually pained him. He felt a lot for Frani.
And the miracle was that Frani liked him, too. Sometimes, just looking at her, he'd lose his breath and go tense all over. Je-zus, he wanted her! He wanted her bad - not just a finger-fuck job, but the whole bit. Oh, how he'd like to slide his cock in as far as it would go! Let her pussy gobble it down, squeeze it with her soft, juicy pussy lips!
At the last ball game, she'd showed up in one of those brief, brief uniforms all the cheerleaders wore, and it turned him into a stick of pure dynamite, ready to explode. This year, those uniforms had been briefer than ever, and from the field, he'd spotted her in the cheering stand.
His hands had ached to squeeze around her nice, little ass.
When he'd tried to make love to her that night after the game, she didn't get mad, or anything like that. She just said firmly that she was waiting for marriage before she let any boy get in her pants.
It would almost be worth marrying Frani to get in her hole.
Spud's pop had warned him about women. But what did he know? What did he think a guy was to do - be celibate? Hell, Coach had lots of books on sex, and he'd told Spud more about screwing, and all that, than Spud's pop even knew!
He'd told Coach, bragging a little, "I've been around and can take care of myself. I know when a girl wants it as bad as I do!"
Sitting there on the gym steps, hearing Frani and thinking about her, Spud found himself getting all worked up and full of anticipation. His dick was hard again. He wanted to take it out of his pants and play with it. But he wanted worse to stick it in Frani. He did reach down and touch the head through his trousers. His whole cock throbbed, making him groan.
"How would the little lady like a lift home?" he asked grandly when Frani came out of the gym.
"Oh, Spud," she squealed, "I'd like that fine!"
From his job at the ice plant that past summer, he'd saved enough to buy an old car. It wasn't the Cadillac he'd dreamed about, but it would have to do. He led Frani to his beat-up old heap on the school parking lot, all sorts of crazy notions racing through his mind. He helped her get in.
Frani wore a miniskirt, and a low-cut blouse. Spud wanted to put his hands on the satiny crease where her firm breasts parted, but he settled for a kiss on her rosebud mouth. She'd combed her dark hair until it shone, and the face that looked up at him was vivid and rose-shaped.
A hard knot lodged in his throat, and he had to gulp it down.
He went around and scooted under the wheel. When Frani moved close, he broke out in a rash of goose pimples. As he backed off the lot, a whiff of her perfume made him wild. He switched on the radio because he didn't know what else to do.
He didn't drive Frani straight home.
"Spud, not this evening," she protested mildly. "It's Dad's lodge night, and Mom will be waiting supper for me."
But Spud kept on driving toward Lovers' Lane, which wasn't too far from town.
The warm autumn evening was darkening into night when he stopped his car in a secluded spot, under some trees. Frani looked up at him, her face puzzled. "Spud," she asked, "why did you come out here?"
It was a goofy question. Everybody knew why you went to Lovers' Lane. At school, the kids whispered jokes about it.
"Milt won't be able to play in tonight's game," somebody would say. "He's got a cold. Wonder if he caught it in Lovers' Lane?"
There would be laughter. Spud had laughed when he was a freshman, even before he knew what the laughter was about. He laughed because the others did, and he didn't want to seem ignorant, He never expected to come to Lovers' Lane with Frani Cravens.
But Donna Overstreet had been out here - with Kirk Myers - and with others. She'd told Spud about Kirk, being honest about it. Spud liked Donna, liked her as much as any other girl in school, except Frani. Donna was pretty, gay, and clever.
Tonight, as Spud started kissing Frani's mouth, her neck, her ear lobes, he got a strange, crawly feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't tell whether it was excitement or shame. His heavy, hot hands were gentle on Frani's flesh one moment, then demanding and hurting the next. He was hard as a rock as he pushed his cock under her dress and tried to spread her legs. She protested and tried to break away.
He rubbed her fanny, up under her skirt, and tried to slip her panties down.
"No, Spud, nooo -" she groaned.
"Frani," he whispered, "oh, Frani, please let me fuck you -" He knew there was something like sorrow in his voice, something lost and terrified. Frani sobbed and tried to get her skirt down, and he supposed she was going through the same tortures he was. He guessed it wasn't any easier for a girl than it was for a boy.
The longing, the hot cunt, pulled one way, and the doubts pulled another - and it didn't matter if you were a boy or a girl. You became confused sometimes and didn't know what to do.
Spud's weight upon her, Frani moved sideways across the seat. When he trembled, she pressed closer, as if wanting to comfort him - do something - anything - to quiet his pain.
His hand slid down her thigh, and his cock swelled as his fingers parted her hair, searching for her slit. It was a tiny hole. He worked his finger into it and felt it oozing juices. His hard rod throbbed.
"Feel what I've got," he ordered.
Frani put one hand around his cock and cupped his balls in the other. He felt them squirm under the skin. It was exciting.
He moved and tried to squeeze his tool inside her. "Je-zus, hold still, baby," he said, hoarse and panting.
"Please, Spud, cool it," she breathed, her voice almost a sob. "I - I don't want to do that -" Spud lay perfectly still. Then, with a groan, he flung himself to the other side of the car seat, clenching his fists and pressing his knuckles against his mouth. In the silence, he heard his own painful breathing.
"Spud," Frani said. "Spud, darling-" She reached over to touch him, and her hand fell on his arm.
"For God's sake, don't!" he cried savagely, jerking his arm away. "Oh, damn, damn, damn -" He started striking one hand into the palm of the other.
Tears streamed down Frani's cheeks, and Spud wiped them away. But more came. "I - I thought maybe it would be all right," she sobbed. "I wanted you to put it in me - and then I didn't. Oh, Spud, I'm so mixed up!"
"You and me, too," Spud sighed in agreement and baffled anger. His cock had wilted, and all he felt now was rage. He turned on Frani, blaming her for everything. "What are we supposed to do? That's what I'd like to know! Maybe we're just school kids, too young to fuck around, but we don't feel like kids! My cock gets hot and nearly kills me, and your snatch does, too! It's supposed to be wrong to make love if you're not married! Well, who's kidding whom?"
Frani didn't answer.
"Kirk and Donna have it figured out," Spud continued resentfully. "They know their way around! What's the matter -do you think you're better than Donna?"
"Of course, I don't, Spud. It's only - well - for one thing, I don't want to have a baby."
"You could take the pill -" "Spud, I wish everything was still the way it used to be."
"We're grown up now," Spud said quickly. "We're not kids any more!"
He'd never told Frani about last summer, but he'd told some of the guys at school, and they'd envied him. He'd learned about the sixty-seven varieties of screwing from his boss down at the ice plant, things that even Coach hadn't mentioned. He'd listened, hiding his ignorance as best he could. And he'd gone out on screwing parties with his boss, delivering every bit as much as his boss could.
He realized that if his folks knew what had gone on that past summer, they'd have fits. But let them! It didn't matter. He'd learned a hell of a lot of important things about life.
Spud had told Coach once, "I've got a milk-toast mother and a mean and narrow-minded old man. But what the hell!" He supposed there were other families like his own in which the mother identified the son too closely with the father, used him for the love denied her by her husband. It made Spud anxious and rebellious.
No, it didn't matter what they thought. They were married and had had their sex. Maybe they didn't even need it now. All they thought about was money, money! And bossing him. And fighting over a bridge game with neighbors one night a week. Hell, they called it the generation gap - and it was one goddamned big gap, like the Grand Canyon!
Spud used to go over to Frani's house and they'd do their homework on the dining room table, a dish of apples or cookies handy. Her folks treated them like children, too, but Frani and he hadn't minded then. They didn't know any better.
Sometimes, they'd go to a movie. Big stuff! They'd stop in the shadow of the big tree in front of Frani's house, and Spud would kiss her goodnight, quickly and softly. And then he'd say, "So long, Frani. See you tomorrow."
He didn't know much about cunts and fucking, and stuff. He'd go off whistling. That was as far as it ever went, or as far as either of them wanted it to go.
But goodnight kisses weren't enough now, after Spud's experiences of the past summer. Under the big tree, his cock would get hard as iron. He'd take Frani fiercely in his arms, the whole length of their bodies pressed together. He'd try to push his cock in her hole, but she wouldn't let him. He'd finger-fuck her a while, hoping to get her so hot she couldn't resist. But she always did.
Later, he'd go home, and up in his room he'd undress in the dark and stand by the opened window, letting the cool air caress his naked body. His rod would be hard and throbbing, and he'd feel miserable and triumphant, ashamed and proud. So many emotions would engulf him that he couldn't sort them out.
"Frani," he said now, quietly, "I've been thinking, and the way I see it, we're better off if we don't see each other so often."
He heard Frani catch her breath.
"Oh, no, Spud!" she cried.
He went on, as if he hadn't heard her. "You go out with other fellows, and I'll date other girls, It's the best way."
"Spud, I don't want to date anyone else. And I'll just die if you do."
Abrupt anger tore Spud's quietness to shreds. "Sure, you want me to take you out, give you a good time - and that's all! Hell, my cock craves pussy -" "This can't be you talking, Spud! It can't be!"
After a minute, Spud went on, not angry now, but hopeless. "Well, just being together ain't enough anymore. We get started on some heavy petting, then you make me stop. My cock swells, and I go home and can't sleep for the throbbing in it. If that's the way it's got to be, I'd rather not see you at all."
"Oh, Spud -" Frani scooted closer. Spud could tell she was as hot between the legs as he was. But, when he looked into her face, he saw she was scared.
"I'll put it in easy," he told her. "I won't hurt you."
He pulled her gently into his arms, and his hand went down to grope her pussy.
"Please, Spud, take me home," she begged. "In a minute, honey."
He had her pinned against the seat and was kissing the beautiful hollow between her tits. "Spud, don't - let me go!" He didn't.
He probed her with his hot cock, and she twisted. The close, hot feeling of her body rubbing against him made him more anxious than ever. His rod throbbed like a power engine as he held her in a vise and kissed her like he couldn't stop. He knew Frani had never fucked anybody, but he figured it was like Coach had once said, that any girl would eventually give in to a screw job if a boy worked at it long enough. Frani made no protest when he ran his hand under her skirt and groped her snatch, gentle at first, then urgently.
He went on tempting her, finger-fucking her to arouse her, promising to marry her if anything happened. Experiencing pure physical torture, he begged, "Frani, please let me stick it in you. I'm only human -" He had the head of his dick close to her opening. She tried to move away. He groaned and kissed her, and kept on begging. He made one quick stab and missed, his cock sliding down from her pussy to her asshole.
She started to sob.
Talking softly, he lifted one of her beautiful breasts out of her blouse. She held her eyes closed as he kissed the brownish nipple. She moaned, and her lips trembled. She's hot as hell, Spud thought, as he kept on kissing her tit. She writhed and began to claw at him.
He relaxed his tight hold on her arm to crouch over her, ready to ram her.
That was a mistake.
Her knee came up quickly and caught him in the stomach. Her other knee hit his balls, and pain shot through his groin, taking his breath away. He thought he'd never get it back. The pain was terrible. Gasping for air, he managed to get the car door open. He fell to the ground and writhed there until some of the pain eased away. But he still felt as if his nuts had burst.
"I'm sorry, Spud," he heard Frani say.
He held his cock and nuts, feeling so weak he could hardly move. He began to curse as he got to his feet. With what little strength he had left, he jerked Frani from his car. He yelled, "That's the dirtiest trick a girl can pull on a guy!"
There, at his feet, Frani moaned horribly. "Get up!" he ordered.
That's when she threatened him.
"You just wait until I get home and tell my father! He'll charge you with trying to rape me!"
As the sound of terror banged away in Spud's ears, he started sweating. Frani was so angry he didn't know what she would do.
Her threat made him remember Tillie Talliant, a toughie that the truant officer used occasionally to force to attend school. Several boys had fallen under her seductive spell, but they hadn't defiled her, like the law claimed they had. The boys served terms in the reform school, anyway.
Spud knew that a girl 'under the age of consent' got the full protection of the law. It wasn't fair! Maybe Tillie had been young in years, but she'd had more experience than most girls ever have.
Frani's threat scared Spud so much that he went a little crazy. He wanted to get away from her as fast as he could. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a car starting up. He hardly realized that he was driving off without Frani.
As he raced toward town, he could fairly see the story blazing from old Editor Millhouse's newspaper. Young punk attempts rape on high school girl in Lovers' Lane.
He drove around for an hour, afraid to go home.
His fear and frustration pushed him on, and he drove like a madman. When he came to a residential section, he did slow down. He turned onto a lonely street to take a short cut home.
A police siren screamed behind him.
His first crazy thought was to step on the gas and give the cops a chase. But he knew he didn't have a chance in his old car.
Now, two coppers were cruising along beside him. They forced him to the curb.
He stopped and resignedly turned off the motor, sticking the keys into his pocket. He was sure this was the end.
He was being arrested for attempted rape.