Chapter 5
In the middle of the afternoon, a car horn honked out in front of Spud's house. He got up and went to the window. Frani sat under the wheel of Coach's old wreck, bearing down on the horn.
He opened the window and yelled down, "Cut the music! I'll be down as soon as I put my pants on!"
A gladness got into him as he dressed, then hurried expectantly down to see what Frani wanted, happy for the chance to talk to her.
"Get in," she ordered curtly. "Coach wants you out for football practice."
She sat stiffly under the wheel while Spud climbed in beside her. His happiness vanished.
"Frani," he started out, "I'm sorry about last evening. I - I want to apologize."
"Forget it, Spud," she said sharply. "And don't get any false notions. My picking you up is a favor to Coach, and not to you!"
That froze Spud.
As they jogged along in silence, he wasn't at all sure Coach's old heap was going to make it back to school.
"Coach ought to get himself a new car," he told Frani, hoping to thaw her out and get her to talk. "His wife's about to have a baby, and he might need it."
Frani just grunted something, and Spud knew she was sore through and through. She turned a corner, and the car tilted, throwing Spud against her. He hoped the maneuver had been purposeful, but she gave him a fierce glare, and he moved away. He sat in silence the rest of the way to school.
When he suited up, his hands shook over Frani's cold treatment. He went out for practice, but he didn't do any good.
Coach called him aside.
"What's eating you, Spud?" he wanted to know.
"I guess it's Frani," Spud told him. Then he related how he'd tried to make her give him some pussy.
Coach grinned and whistled through his teeth.
"That would be worth working for," he said.
"I just made her mad," Spud answered glumly. "She won't even talk to me." Then he looked Coach straight in the face. "Coach," he asked, "is there something wrong with a guy who wants to fuck all the time?"
Coach winked at him. "Not a thing, Spud. Not a thing."
Spud went back to the football field and did okay. He felt a lot better. He knew a lot of the other guys were screwing around, too. They talked about it in the locker room, and some of them related the details of their experiences. Spud was sure some of them made theirs up.
When practice was over, and Spud was under the shower, his thoughts turned again to Frani. He decided he still loved her. But, hell, sex was a part of love, wasn't it? A hell of a big part! When he thought of sex and Frani, it was pleasant, but different somehow than when he thought of Hazel Rankin. He recalled now how she'd looked, standing in his mom's kitchen, letting him know she was on his side.
He began to feel excited. Christ, how he'd like to fuck her! Ram his cock up until its head shot out of her mouth! He bet old Rankin had a pint-sized weenie, and he bet Hazel had never been screwed by a big, hard cock! Shit, he was getting an erection! Hard as a coconut! And it wasn't Frani now who was burning him up.
It was Hazel Rankin.
Other guys were taking showers, too, so he turned to the wall so they wouldn't see his stiff erection. He stood there and let the warm water trickle over his body, thinking how much he wanted a piece of ass. Kicks! His rod stuck up Hazel's snatch! And, all the time, he knew he wanted more. He wanted love, along with his fucking. He wanted Frani.
Coach started past him, but stopped. "Something wrong, Spud?" he asked.
Spud didn't want him to see his hard dick. He kept his front to the wall.
"I'm okay," he said. "I'm just fine."
But Coach lingered, and he felt his eyes on his bare ass, taking every detail in. Spud still had his hot erection, right up with the best of them. Hell, he thought, let Coach look if it gives him a buzz! He was in a condition that all guys got into from time to time. He turned, and his dick jutted out in Coach's direction.
And Coach looked!
His eyes bugged. He drew a long breath, then whistled through his teeth. He licked his dry lips.
"Wow, man, you're hot! Right?" "Right," Spud repeated. He guessed it was the first time Coach had ever seen him hard. "You sure look good, man."
"I feel good, too," Spud said, and grinned. He touched his erect joy stick, throbbing with desire. He wondered now what condition Coach was in, but he didn't dare look.
Luckily, the other fellows were paying no attention. They began to leave the shower room, one by one.
But Coach stayed.
When they were alone in the shower room, Spud looked. Coach's pants had tented out.
"Damn," Spud said, "you're hot, too!"
Coach nodded, he unzipped his pants and guided his hard cock out.
He didn't have anything like the tool Spud had, but it was throbbing and dripping. "Jesus Christ," Coach swore, "my cock's begging for a wet and gaping slit! My wife's pregnant, you know, and it hasn't had any pussy for I don't know how long!"
"Fuck it with your hand!" Spud said.
"Single fellows are pretty hard-up guys, too, I guess," Coach said.
"Yeah, I guess," Spud answered.
"Don't you know?"
Coach was pumping his dick with his hand, and Spud could tell he was building up to a climax. He fucked his cock with his hand until he shot his wad. He groaned as he put it back into his pants.
"It's a hell of a way to get your nuts off," he told Spud.
Spud nodded his head in agreement. He got out of the shower and quickly toweled himself, then dressed as fast as possible. When Coach offered to drive him home, he refused the invitation.
He walked home alone that evening, puzzling over Coach. He finally decided that, since Coach's wife was about to have a baby, he was suffering from lack of sex. He'd pumped his cock for release, nothing else. After all, that was pretty normal.
The minute Spud opened the door to his house, his old man shook his fist in his face. The old anger shot through Spud again.
"Where've you been?" his pop demanded. "Who brought you home?"
His pop could never ask just one question. He had to know it all at once!
"Which do you want to know first?" Spud asked tightly.
That really burned his old man.
"None of your smart lip, young man!" He shook his fist in Spud's face. "Answer me!"
"I went to football practice, and I walked home! Anything wrong with that?"
His pop's face turned white as he started lambasting Coach. "That man ain't fit to be guiding young people," he bellowed. "I've got a notion to write a letter to the newspaper about that man!"
Spud gulped. He knew that if his pop did, old Millhouse would print it, and it might cause Coach a lot of trouble. Millhouse was as radical as his pop was. They were the only enemies Coach had in town.
"Coach didn't do anything to make you strain a gut!" Spud defended.
"You stay shy of that man! And let me tell you something else! Being a big football hero ain't gonna make you rich!"
Spud's mom heard them yelling. She stood beside her husband, wringing her hands in her apron.
"You shouldn't talk to him like that, Bert!"
She was trying to defend him, Spud knew, and he appreciated it. But nobody could stop his pop when he got into a rage.
"Coach Nichols didn't have no right to stick his nose in when you got arrested for speeding!" he raved on. "I could make him trouble over it!"
The old man's anger was sliding from Spud to Coach. He was against athletics and said the School Board didn't have any right to pay Coach a salary, and that Coach was as big a punk as Spud was.
Spud's mom was sobbing. Spud couldn't stand her tears any more than he could his pop's unreasonable, degrading ravings, so he went out and sat on the back steps.
Somebody called his name.
He looked to see Hazel Rankin framed in the hedge. She was smiling at him.
"What's bugging you, kid?" she wanted to know.
"My rotten home life," Spud confessed, his throat tightening.
"Well, come on over," she invited. "Ronald's off somewhere on school business, and I'm all alone. I guess my home life's not any better than yours is, eh, kid?"
Hazel made him feel they had a lot in common. She understood him and sympathized. He got up and followed her through her back door, into her kitchen, enjoying the way her hips moved when she walked.
"Come into my parlor," she invited, and Spud knew she was quoting an old nursery rhyme. She led him into her large living room, much like the one in his house.
There was a large fireplace at one end of the room, and a thick turquoise carpet on the floor. The furniture was upholstered in turquoise and yellow, and Spud supposed it was to compliment Hazel's blonde hair. Though the room was cheerful, he still felt rejected and alone.
Hazel invited him to take a chair, then sat in front of him, leaning forward and putting her hand warmly over his.
"You're having a bad time, Spud, I know."
Her voice was throaty and full of understanding. The touch of her hand sent Spud's blood boiling through his veins. He squeezed her fingers, and she returned the squeeze.
She didn't object when he leaned forward and impulsively kissed her. So he kissed her again, then buried his face between her tits.
She let him remain that way.
He heard her heart pounding violently and wondered if she was as aroused as he was. He felt his cock throb into a hard-on, making his pants tent out.
He guided her hand. "Feel it," he said.
She felt it and laughed softly.
Spud's passion burst into flames. He groaned as he unzipped his pants and took his cock out. Holding it in one hand, he groped for Hazel's burning pussy with the other. Man, she was white-hot between the legs!
"What do you want, Spud?" she asked hoarsely.
"Shit, the same thing you want!" he answered boldly. "But, get this: I don't chase females, and I don't play games! Either I jab you soon, or I pull out of the race!"
"I'm not worth chasing? Is that it, Spud?" Hazel pouted. "You try this rooster stuff on all the girls?"
"I fuck all of 'em I can!"
Hazel giggled and moved close to him. Her breast touched his arm as his hand slicked down her silky thighs to grope her cunt. "Jesus," he groaned as she kissed him hotly.
She made little animal noises in the depths of her throat as Spud dragged her skirt up. He pulled her down in the chair and straddled her.
"God, hurry up -" she breathed in his ear.
He guided his hot cock into her wet, gaping slit with trembling fingers, feeling it sink into her mysterious flesh.
She gasped and groaned.
"Oh, God, Spud, you're big!"
Spud felt her frantic struggles to get more of him in her snatch, to set up friction. Je-zus, she was fucking him!
He held her hips, held his cock in her, as he dragged her to the floor. She was like a crazed thing, rocking and panting, and heaving. She was satiny and firm, and her ass under his hands was perfect and round. Her cunt was tight and seemed to suck him.
She was coming, bouncing and writhing, pushing upward with all her strength. Her actions were so delicious, her lovely body so impelling, that Spud creamed while she writhed under his cock, rubbing herself on him. God, she was wonderful!
He rested only a few seconds, then fucked his cock into her again, hearing her moan with pure pleasure. In a minute, he felt a funny sensation deep down in his balls - then it came to a white-hot rapture, and his sperm spurted out, driving him crazy.
Hazel cooed and giggled under him, still bucking and panting. The smell of sex got into his nostrils, and her grasping cunt kept milking at him.
His cock withered and slipped out of her. She groaned, reached for it, and tried to revive it with her fingers.
"Je-zus, you still want more?" Spud asked in a whisper.
Her tongue shot into his mouth. "Hell, don't you?" she asked.
She kept fooling with his prong and got it a little harder. She tried to guide it back into her snatch, and Spud pushed it in. He didn't feel the tightness he had before. "Is it in?" he asked.
"Yeah," she giggled. "Can't you tell?"
Spud grunted. He didn't want to tell her he was all fucked out, that he couldn't get his cock any harder. He felt it wilt inside her and knew she was disappointed. What a goddamned woman! How could she stay hot so long?
When his dick came out, she began acting moody.
"You okay?" Spud asked.
"Gawd, I never had such a fuck!" She reached over and patted his shriveled organ. "Christ A'mighty, you got a big dick!" Then she sort of shoved him away.
"You want to get rid of me now?" Spud asked.
"I'd like to keep you forever, sweetie."
Once more, Spud was beginning to feel his passion rise. "Then let's go upstairs and do it on the bed."
Hazel stood up. "It will have to be a quickie. I don't want Ronald -" "Come on," Spud said. He had an immense hard-on now, an erection that wouldn't quit. Hell, he figured he could fuck Hazel all night!
Up in the pink bedroom, Hazel passed in front of him to check the blinds. Her body was curvaceous and full, womanly and challenging - and so hot it could melt a guy's dick. Hazel came back and stood invitingly before him. Then she turned, bent, and looked up at him from between her legs. Asshole, pussy, mouth - all showed. "Take your choice," Hazel said.
Spud speared at her with his cock. "Eat it!" he commanded. Hazel unwound and went to her knees, taking his big dick in her hands.
"Goddamn it, do something!" Spud cried. "Like this?"
She took his big, hot prick into her mouth. A kind of rage and desire fused together in Spud, mounting to an uncontrollable passion. This was the wildest sex he had ever experienced. He couldn't stand Hazel's tickling his cock any longer, so he pulled it out of her mouth.
"Didn't you like it?" she asked.
"Shit, yes, I liked it!"
He pushed Hazel onto the bed, and then-tangled arms and legs were caught up together in a web of pleasure. Hazel gasped when he pushed his hard, hot rod all the way in. Mouths glued together, Spud started pumping in regular rhythm.
"How's it feeling?" he asked. "You like it?"
Hazel moaned her pleasure.
Underneath Spud, she was a panting animal, unadulterated fire. The ecstasy Spud felt was both wonderful and painful in its intensity.
Hazel's heavy breathing lifted her tits. "Oh, hurry, Spud," she begged. "I can't bear it any more!"
Spud dug his fingers into Hazel's back as he felt his climax coming. He exploded deep inside her and thought his cream would never stop coming. He gasped and went limp as his cock shot its last bit into Hazel, and then wilted.
Almost at the same instant, a car pulled into the driveway, its headlights momentarily brightening the room.
Hazel jumped to her feet. "It's Ronald!" she gasped. "He'll come in the back way. Hurry out the front door!"
Spud grabbed up his clothes, and the next thing he knew Hazel was shoving him down the stairway. He managed to get into his briefs and pants and carried his shirt and shoes. He heard Rankin open the back door just as he reached the front porch. He hoped Hazel had covered up everything in time.
He slipped across the front lawn in his bare feet. His fright gone now, he felt drained and weak. He said aloud, "Rankin, old man, you'd better have a stiff cock tonight! Your wife is primed!"
He sat on the back steps to put on his shirt and shoes, before he slipped into the house. He hoped neither his mom or pop would see his face.
They were both in the living room he would have to cross to reach the stairs. His mom was mending. His pop was reading his newspaper. His pop didn't look up, but his mom did.
"Good night, Gilbert," she said.
Spud took a deep breath. Up in his room, he didn't know how he was going to live through the night. Lying naked across the bed, he couldn't drive thoughts of Hazel out of his mind. His cock was hot and hard, and he kept wondering if old Rankin was screwing Hazel.
His thoughts were torment of the very worst kind.
He spent a restless night.
The next morning, he didn't go down for breakfast until he was sure his pop had left for work. When he did slip down, Hazel was again in the kitchen, drinking coffee with his mom.
Not by look or word did she give a thing away. But Spud got the message that she'd come over mostly to see him.
When the doorbell rang, and his mom went to answer it, Hazel began needling him.
"Spud, you should behave yourself," she teased.
Spud grinned. God, how he began to ache to poke it to her right then! He heard his mom in the living room, talking to some salesman. He edged close and groped Hazel, and said, "That goes for you, too!"
Hazel had told his mom that she'd been a grade school teacher before she'd married Rankin, and his mom had told him. Hazel sighed now, nostalgically. She told Spud, "I've always loved children. I've hoped to have some of my own."
Spud didn't know what had brought that up. Fuckin' was fuckin', but having kids was another thing. "You know what to do to get them," he flipped. "Why don't you just spread your legs and go ahead and have some?"
Looking wistful, Hazel pushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. "Ronald doesn't like children," she said sadly. "He doesn't want us to have any. Spud, you know, I envy Coach's wife. I wish I were having a baby -" "Je-zus, wouldn't you be scared?" Spud asked quickly. "I mean -" "No, Spud," she said calmly.
Then she told him how she'd come to marry old Rankin two years before they'd moved next door. "I was one of those accident babies," she confessed. "My mother was middle-aged when I was born. My father died the year I finished college, leaving Mother dependent on me. When she developed a heart condition, I couldn't leave her at nights, so I never went any place or had any dates. I didn't blame Mother. She couldn't help it. Things just sometimes happen that way."
She said Rankin was forty-two and divorced when she met him. "He was principal of the school where I taught, and the other teachers made fun of him. But he was good to me and didn't mind spending his evenings in our living room, with Mother and me. He seemed to like her, and she liked him. Just before she died, she begged me to marry him, and in a moment of grief and desperation, I promised I would."
It was easy to see how she'd been trapped, and Spud felt genuine sympathy for her. It must have been terrible, living with a man so much older than she. She didn't love old Rankin. Who could? Spud supposed his first wife had found him so unbearable that she'd divorced him.
Hazel had been the victim of circumstances. Spud supposed old Rankin had fooled around just enough to awaken her sexually, then hadn't been able to deliver the goods. He wasn't man enough to satisfy her.
She was a woman on fire, just dying for an honest-to-God man.
And Spud figured he was the man!
God, Hazel's teasing had made him jumpy as a pullet laying her first egg. When his mom finally got rid of the salesman and returned to the kitchen, Spud beat it outside.
He didn't go to school that day.
Why should he?
He was getting an education a lot closer home!
As the afternoon dragged on, Spud's cock remained hard and wept for Hazel's pussy. He suffered the tortures of the damned. He half expected Frani to show up to drive him to football practice, but he didn't want to see her. He didn't want to see anybody but Hazel Rankin!
He was afraid to slip over to the Rankin house in broad daylight. He hoped like hell old Rankin would have business to keep him away from home that night. He got himself so worked up just thinking about Hazel that he decided to get up and walk to the gym just to cool off.
When he got there, it was too early yet for football practice. He went to Coach's office in the gym, but found nobody there.
He started to leave and go down to the locker room. He was at the door when he turned and saw a movement beyond the curtain which separated Coach's office from his storeroom, where he kept his books, athletic gear, and such things. His curiosity made him stop, look and listen.
At first, he saw nothing, heard nothing.
A closer look revealed a female leg. Then he heard heavy panting, a girl's giggle. "You feel so good," she whispered.
It was Donna Overstreet's voice.
Spud decided he'd better get out of there. But he couldn't move. He saw the shadow of Coach's strong fingers discovering Donna's nest, teasing, making her moan. Was he on his knees in front of her? No, he was fucking her! She held him tightly, scissoring him, knees high - writhing on a chair.
Coach was in her, pumping with deep, steady strokes, and she sighed. One heavy breast was in his mouth.
"Get your cock in deeper - deeper," Donna moaned.
Now, Coach was fucking her hard, hotly all at once. He rammed and bucked and battered her wantonly as she squealed and clutched him, begging for more. She moaned aloud, twisting, stretching, bucking, gasping for air.
"Don't stop -" she breathed.
Spud's cock throbbed. He wanted to get in where the action was. But this was Coach's party.
Holding Donna's hips, Coach slowed his action. "How was it?" he asked.
Donna breathed a sigh. "Oh, Coach, you don't know what you do to me!"
"I can guess." He pumped harder. "You want more?"
"All I can get! I want a lot more!"
He rammed her harder, and she writhed. "Oh, God, I'm coming!" he cried. His whole body trembled, then went limp. He pulled his cock out and wiped it on a handkerchief.
Spud stumbled against Coach's waste paper basket when he started to retreat, making a lot of noise. He heard Donna give a scared whisper, heard Coach's muffled response.
"Who's there?" Coach called out.
"It's me, Coach - Spud," Spud said as innocently as he could. "I - I didn't know you were sorting books. I'll come back another time."
"Thanks, Spud," Coach replied from beyond the curtain. "Thanks a lot."
Spud's cock was still throbbing, but he felt a lot better about Coach. He'd worried about what had happened in the shower, but now he was sure Coach wasn't a cocksucker.
Coach didn't mention the incident with Donna at football practice, and Spud continued his innocent pretense. But he kept thinking about Coach and Donna. And then his thoughts went to Hazel Rankin.
He wasn't worth a good goddamn on the football field that day.
But Coach was too pooped to eat him out.
That evening, Spud refused Coach's offer to drive him home. He wanted to walk - think - be alone.
All the way home, Spud anticipated meeting Hazel again that night. His desire peaked, making his whole body tremble.
His mind filled with anticipation of the wonderful things Hazel and he would do.