Chapter 4
During the days that followed, remorse, what little there was of it, vanished quickly. As far as Helen was concerned, the most important thing was that her libido was being reactivated. She was becoming a full-blooded woman again, a woman with breasts and pussy and ass, a woman with a passion for fucking.
Bruce Dobbs was out of town on business, but she didn't care. She knew there would be others. Nancy would certainly be available whenever Helen was in the mood, but her primary interest was men-virile men who knew how to fuck. She had no interest in teenage boys, until one afternoon a kid named Rich walked into her life.
He was a tall boy with muscles and freckles and curly hair. She first saw him standing at a junction on Route 20 as she was driving alone back to town. He had his thumb out, begging for a ride like a lost puppy. She decided he looked safe enough and she pulled up the car on the side of the road. A moment later she had a good-looking, sweaty young male on the seat beside her. It took no more than five minutes before she felt the first signs of wetness in her crotch.
Jesus Christ, she thought, I'm impossible!
She had her light summer dress pulled back on her thighs to give her freedom to drive, and she could feel his eyes on her knees and belly and tits. She blushed inwardly at the idea that he might be able to smell the cuntjuice wetting her panties.
"What's your name?" she said.
"Rick Anderson," he replied. "And you're Helen Percy."
"How did you know that?"
"I'm Nancy Hilliard's nephew," he said. "I met you a couple of years ago at her house."
"I don't remember," she said.
She invited him home, mumbling something about cold chicken and beer, her heart pounding at the expectation of refusal. There was no refusal. He accepted as if the most natural thing in the world was to be invited to the house of a thirty-five-year-old married woman. Maybe it happened to him every day. She didn't care.
She also didn't care about the neighbors, as she walked with him into the house. Damn them all, she thought, I've got my own life to live.
She brought out cold chicken and beer in the kitchen, replaced her dress with a halter top and shorts, and sat with him talking about his love life. The more she talked, the more turned on she became. His eyes kept roaming back and forth between her tits and legs. When he rose to wash his hands at the sink, he had an obvious hard-on tenting the front of his cutoffs.
"Oh, my," she said. "Is that all for me?" She laughed when he blushed and turned away. "What are you hiding there?" she said. "Come on over here and show it to me."
The look in his eyes told her he thought she was crazy. She didn't care. He came over to stand in front of her, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide, his cock bulging against the material of his pants.
"Oh, Jesus, look at it!" she said. "You're as hard as a crowbar."
She ran her fingertips over the outline of his cockhead, feeling its heat, shivering at her own excitement.
"I hope it's me that turned you on," she said.
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "I...."
"Don't be," she said, "I'm flattered." She squeezed and fondled the outline of his cock, enjoying his confused excitement, smiling at the way his cock twitched under her fingers. Finally leaning back, her narrowed eyes fixed on his crotch, she ran her fingers over the cloth covering her breasts. "Take it out," she said.
"What?"
"Take it out, lover. Show it to me."
She untied her halter, teasing him by holding up the material to cover her tits. His hand fumbled with his zipper, pulled it down, slipped inside to scoop out his turgid cock. She dropped the halter and raised up her tits with her palms.
"Oh, Jesus!" he hissed.
"Nice?"
"Yeah," he said. "Oh, yeah!"
She feasted her eyes on his cockhead, on the blushing pink color, on the vertical slit now gaping and wet.
"It's a lovely cock," she said. He gasped when she put her hand on it. She ran her fingertips over the velvety cockhead, shivering when it pulsed and throbbed under her touch. She pushed his hand away and looked at the while column of his cock-shaft. When he moved his hand forward to fondle one of her heavy tits, she murmured her approval.
"That's nice!" she hissed. She pushed the hanging tit into his hand as she squeezed and milked his cock.
Suddenly groaning, squeezing her tit, doubling over and bucking his hips, he clenched his teeth and erupted long, thin geysers of white jism out of his bloated cockhead. She used her hand to milk him, pumping him hard and fast.
"That's it!" she hissed. "Let it go! Don't stop! Oh, shit, it's lovely when it comes out!"
Moaning, his eyes closed, he looked as if he were about to faint. As the jets of jism grew less powerful, he wilted, sighed, and grunted. Helen bit her lip with excitement. The most marvelous thing of all was that he stayed hard. He had jism all over himself, on his shirt and pants, all over his cock and drooling down over her hand. She kept on milking his cock, more slowly now, coaxing the last of his load out of his balls.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Helen laughed. "Don't be silly," she said. She rubbed the slick wet jism over the skin of his trembling cock, squeezing his flesh, milking the slippery length through her fingers. "You couldn't help it," she said. "You were too hot."
"But I thought you wanted to...."
She cradled his balls, rolling them around with her fingers. Then she moved her thumb over the drooling head of his cock and smiled when he jerked and squirmed.
"Just relax," she said. "Let me do everything."
With a sudden motion, she leaned forward and closed her mouth over his cock. He gave a surprised grunt, his body lurching, and she had to hold him still with her hands on his waist until he settled down. His cock throbbed and trembled as she began working her lips over the pulsing knob. She slowly and gently bobbed her head back and forth, maintaining friction with her lips.
"Oh, Jesus!" he moaned.
Using her tongue and lips, she covered his cock with saliva. She sensed he would come soon. Increasing her efforts, she began rhythmically pumping him with her mouth, her head bobbing, her throat muscles gulping spasmodically until her neck ached from the strain. She could feel her own excitement growing, her cunt dripping as it churned out her juices.
Then he came, and the force of it almost blew the back of her head off. The jism spurted out of his cock, jets of hot sticky fluid filling and burning her mouth and throat. She worked frantically to swallow all of it, but some of it escaped to dribble down her chin. Squeezing his cock with her hands, she milked it and continued to suck with her mouth, pulling out his jism, mewling at the way his body shuddered and twisted. When she moved up her hand to jiggle his balls, the last of his load spurted into her convulsing throat.
Sitting back, she looked up at his exhausted face. There was no need to ask if he'd enjoyed it. The intensity of his pleasure was obvious.
Now, after two orgasms, his cock was limp, but she knew that a boy his age had a phenomenal virility. Rising up from her chair, she patted his cheek and smiled.
"Follow me," she said.
Moving out of the kitchen, walking across the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom, she was conscious of his eyes on her back, on the swelling cheeks of her ass still covered by her shorts. Her nipples tingled, and her breasts jiggled and swayed like two ripe melons.
Inside the bedroom, she stripped off her shorts, and then led him into the bathroom and told him to undress. When she caught him ogling her body, now completely naked for the first time, she chuckled. She ran her fingers down below her belly to fluff through her bush of cunthair.
"Do you like my body?"
"I sure do," he said.
"You've hardly touched me, but you can do it in the shower. You don't mind taking a shower with me, do you? I need one badly, and you might as well join me."
He didn't mind at all. Her eyes feasted on his young, supple-looking body. His boyish limp cock began to thicken and extend itself, the fat cockhead already swelling.
They stepped into the shower. She turned on the water and adjusted the temperature.
"Turn around, honey," she said. "I'll do your back."
A wave of lust rose through her body when he turned and showed her his ass. Years had passed since she'd had a man in a shower with her. The nearness of the boy's body made her shiver with excitement.
She began soaping his back, working up a lather over the smooth muscles. Before long she had her hands down on his ass, her fingers moving underneath to probe his balls. She ran her thumb over his asshole, circled the puckered ring, and finally pushed into the tight hole up to the first knuckle. He gave out a short grunt and lurched forward, but she kept her finger in place and laughed softly. A moment later she pulled out her thumb and playfully pinched his ass.
"Now you can do my back," she said.
He turned around and looked her up and down with a hungry gleam in his eyes. "Jesus, you're really something!" he hissed.
She smiled. She swiveled and offered him her back. He began at her shoulders, and then moved his hands down in steadily lowering circles until he had the soap on the cheeks of her ass. She enjoyed the feel of his hands. He was a strong kid and his hands were firm despite the fact that he was nervous. She laughed when she realized he was too timid to push his fingers into the crack of her ass. She turned to face him, nudging him with the points of her tits.
"Now we do the front," she said.
She began to work him over, soaping his hairless chest, then working down over his flat, hard belly. His cock was almost up to a full erection. She gazed down at it and smiled. She lathered up his stomach, and then moved her hands down to do his cock and balls. When she realized how close he was to shooting off again, she pulled her hands away and handed him the soap.
"Do my pussy," she said.
His eyes glittering, he moved the soap down over her belly to the bush of her cunthair. She moved her legs apart to give him room, and in a moment his fingers were on her cuntlips. He stroked and tickled and finally pried the lips open to probe her cunt-hole. She bucked against his hand with a slow, sensuous rhythm, and then pulled away.
"Enough," she said. "Let's get out of here and get on the bed."
Out of the shower, they hastily dried off and walked into the bedroom. Helen stretched out on the bed with her knees up and her thighs wide. Holding out her arms, she drew him down, took his cock in her hand, and set his cockhead into the socket of her cunt. With an upward lurch of her hips, her hands on his ass, she captured his cock and pulled the length of it into her steaming channel.
He gasped at the first stroke. For a moment they just lay there, his cock swelling and throbbing in her juice-filled cunt. She moved her hands over his body, fondling his muscles, delighting in the feel of his youthful flesh.
He began moving with long, slow thrusts. She kept her hands on his ass, pulling him in with each stroke, moaning in his ear.
"Oh, baby!" she said. "Oh, God, yes!"
The tempo increased and he began pumping more vigorously, his cock ramming into her cunt. She ground her hips in response, slapping his belly with her own, matching his feverish rhythm, delighting in the grunts of ecstasy escaping from his lips. A wave of heat spread up from her crotch to warm her entire body. Her cunt was flooded with juice, gobs of it sloshing out to coat his cock and drip down to her ass. Raising her knees, she folded them back to make a cushion for his hips, nuzzling him in the saddle of her crotch.
"Let me get on top," she hissed. "Let me do the work."
He pulled his cock out of her steaming cunt and rolled over on his back. She knelt over him, relishing the look of him, the youth and strength of his body. Taking his cock in her hand, she pulled and squeezed it, smearing the remnants of her cuntjuice over the velvety skin. The feel of his fuck-meat throbbing impatiently in her hand was delicious.
Then she moved forward, straddling him, centering his rigid cock on her dripping slit. She teased her cuntlips with his swollen cockhead, spreading them apart, opening the flesh of her hungry gash. With a soft moan, she squatted down and impaled her dripping, quivering cunt on his turgid meat.
"Oh, shit!" he grunted.
She could feel her cuntjuice being churned by the fat head of his cock. Her eyes closed, her head thrown back, she squatted on him and focused on the pleasure washing over her body. She began fucking him, grinding her hips with an increasingly frenetic rhythm, her heavy tits rolling like cantaloupes, her eyes glittering with triumph.
He reached out and grabbed her ass cheeks, kneading the firm, resilient flesh, helping her pump up and down on his cock.
He vented a deep grunt and his body suddenly stiffened. She felt his load shoot into her cunt, spurt after spurt splattering the walls of her tunnel. Crying out, she clamped her cunt muscles down on his throbbing cockhead and groaned through her own shuddering release.
She rolled over at the end, shivering at the feel of his wet jism leaking out of her cunt.
"Oh, God, that was wonderful!" she moaned.
When she opened her eyes, she saw him sitting up on the bed and gazing down on her body. She smiled. She extended a hand and touched his juice-coated cock.
"Wash up," she said. "You've got me all over you."
"I don't care."
She smiled again. "Did you have a good time?"
"Yeah."
"So did I, honey," she said. "So did I."