Chapter 1
Barbara had chosen a black, lacy chemise adorned with several tiny pink rosettes strategically placed in a parallel line between her full, high-set breasts. Over this she wore a sheer, black negligee, a headily enticing garment designed to arouse and peak the most stubborn male libido, though she could hardly imagine why she was going to such sensual lengths. He was only fourteen ... certainly no match for her thirty years and scores of similar youthful seductions; besides, there was small doubt in her lustful mind but what Milo Wilson would be more than willing to cooperate under the circumstances.
She had caught him cold, "with-the-goods" as they say in the vernacular, the thin brown-papered cigarette tumbling from his shirt pocket in her school-nurse office when he had bent down to replace his shoe. There was nothing he could say. He had started to scoop it up but Barbara's shapely little foot had been quicker, covering the cylinder while she hunched down slowly to retrieve it. Their eyes had met, their faces only inches apart, his juvenile blue orbs growing wide in apprehension, her sultry, onyx delights sparkling in immediate conquest, her most recent vow of forbearance crumbling flimsily.
"Pot, Milo...? You...?" she had whispered austerely.
"I ... I was just ... just carrying it for someone else, Mrs. Lindsey...! Honest...!" he had stammered, his good looking young face nearing total collapse.
"Of course you were," Barbara had replied sarcastically, while her calculating brain raced in licentious thought. David's mental countenance made an effort toward fighting its way to the forefront through those wicked reflections, but she had quickly wiped it away. God, he was a desirable boy....
"I think we better take a walk up to the office, Milo, and have a chat with Mr. Stern...."
"Hon-Honest, Mrs. Lindsey ... it's the truth ... oh ... oh crap!"
He had cried then while she stood there watching him, cried in open fear, his impasse obviously overwhelming him, while tiny little prickling sensations of lewd conquest fermented slowly in her belly and loins, growing almost sadistically as she pressed her advantage, until the boy had been ready to do anything she suggested to save himself. Finally, and with an expression of temporary clemency on her beautiful face, she had offered to give the situation more thought, ordering the trembling Milo to her apartment that night.
Now, as she sipped at her martini ... her fourth martini, in fact, Barbara brushed at her long, raven tresses and mused that her reasons for the seductive attire were entirely personal. She took a narcissistic pleasure in admiring her own symmetrical loveliness, her full, pointed breasts and narrow waist, the generous arch of her hips and the long white columns of her rounded copious thighs and shapely calves, all so provocatively alluring through the gossamer veil of the peignoir, her sweet charms even more enhanced by the chemise than absolute nakedness. She could only anticipate the expression of youthful shocked surprise that would sweep over Milo's smooth boyish face, while his virile young penis began to dance in his pants, and she smiled sensuously to herself.
The lecherous widow, and she damned sure was that, wasn't she? It was even difficult to recount individually her numerous seductions at Santa Lenora Junior High since her arrival a year ago without forgetting a boy here and there, but each and every one had been carefully planned and secured by some protective blackmailing scheme or another ... just as this beautiful and carnal little affair that was about to occur was safeguarded.
Again, she sipped at her martini, and in so doing her sultry eyes fell upon the smiling, handsome face of the uniformed man in the photograph on her vanity. Momentarily, a wave of love flushed warmly through her, but this was quickly followed by an emotion of nauseating and cold emptiness. Dear God! He was dead! Her Carl ... Captain Carl Lindsey, United States Air Force ... destroyed over Vietnam! Sometimes, she forgot, and it was as if he should be coming home from the base for dinner...! But no ... he would never come home again ... never smile, or cry, or speak her name ... nothing! Dear God! What a terrible, terrible waste his death had been...!
She could look at his photograph now after eighteen months without bursting into wailing tears of remorse. Theirs had been a beautiful relationship for six wedded years ... his love and understanding greater than any blessing she had ever known. Even her curse, that maddening desire for young boys that had been with her since childhood, she had confided to him, and together they had fought it, nearly destroying it ... until the war had taken him away. In his absence and without the security of his passionate words of love, nor the fulfillment of his handsome masculine body, the dormant evil founded on a juvenile affair she had carried on with an older cousin when she was twelve and he fourteen ... had reared its ugly head once more. But even then, with the exception of isolated instances when she could no longer bear the emotional frustration her perverse longing caused her without finding a willing young partner, she had still retained an overall control of her passion. Not until that horrible telegram had arrived, and in the throes of embittered remorse, had she allowed her subconscious lechery free rein in a wicked vendetta against the society that had destroyed her love and life ... and she had sworn never to stop until she had corrupted every possible male-child the body politic made available to her!
And then out of nowhere had come David Hamilton, the new English teacher, tall and handsome in his tweedy cuts, too often reminding her of Carl ... and his beautiful fifteen-year-old son, Stevie, the one boy she had pl-edged to herself not to wreak her salacious vengeance upon....
Truly, it had shocked her when she had awakened to the fact that she cared for David; she had believed that to be impossible with any man after Carl. But to care for him was one thing and to love him, another ... yet he had proposed only the night before ... asked her to be his wife ... Stevie's mother, and the urge to shout yes had been almost uncontrollable.
She had slept in fits the entire night, her troubled mind in a complete state of confused wanting. Dear God, was she abusing Carl's monument in just the consideration of marrying another man? She tried to imagine what he would say, how he would advise her, and just before dawn she had realized ... almost as if he had spoken to her ... that her happiness was what he would wish for. Elatedly, she had wept, her decision mentally arrived at: she would accept David's proposal ... and then, to herself and in her joy, she had made her vow: she would rid herself of this terrible perversity...!
Now, Barbara laughed aloud, a cynical, soft sound spiked by the influence of liquor, while she hedonistically admired her seductive reflection in the mirror. She sipped from her glass, her smile unintentionally harsh and booze oriented. Tomorrow, she would renew her vow ... or God, would she ... could she? It all had seemed so simple in the enveloping darkness of pre-dawn, when the obscene desire that permeated her sensuous, beautiful body lay torpid within her ... but then in the light of the lust-filled day that little brown-papered, home-rolled cigarette had crashed to the floor before her eyes, unveiling the irresistible, paralleling compromise that she had so carefully and cleverly watched for among her youthful victims a thousand times.
God, in all truth, she hadn't been able to stem the tide of secured licentious excitement that had raced through her. Like the others ... the many, many others, Milo Wilson became a beacon of his own imprisoning circumstances, and she could not ignore that. It had been a week since she had known a boy, and masturbation hardly, if ever, released her drives as did the sucking of a tender young virile cock!
Barbara drained her glass and poured from the mixing pitcher. She was enticingly drunk, she knew, a velvety sensation that extracted increased warmth away from the thoughts of David, even as she contemplated her forbidden seduction. As would Carl, she felt certain at that moment that he, David, would understand. Everyone had their little sexual idiosyncrasy, her husband had consoled her, and she believed it because she wanted to. David would understand once she told him ... but in all truth, it was not David she was concerned with ... it was Stevie! My God, to live under the same roof with him ... such a handsome, blond boy...! At that very moment she could eat him alive ... starting at his sensuously hardened young cock...!
The doorbell startled her! Slowly, she stood, using the vanity as a prop, then focused her eyes as she drank of her own beauty in the mirror....Must remember to be firm ... you are dressed this way because you are at home ... stick to the issue at hand ... marijuana ... treat him sternly in the beginning ... take full advantage and fill yourself, darling...!
God! She wondered what his doctor-father was doing, thinking, at that very moment...?
"Oh ... Milo ... come in," Barbara said with a certain coldness, walking toward the center of the room where the lights would strategically play through her peignoir in the background. "Come in and sit down."
She had caught his expression of astonished awe as he stood in the doorway staring at her, his teen-age blue-eyes raking over her veiled charms in apprehensive, if, open spontaneous excitement.
Milo had never seen another woman outside of his mother in under things ... but to his knowledge, she had never looked quite like Mrs. Lindsey. Mom wore corsets, or whatever they were, and never a filmy, soft thing like the nurse was wearing at that very moment. Wow! She wasn't even hardly dressed!
Crap! She had pretty legs, and whatever she wore beneath that silky gown went ... went right up to her crotch! He could even see that puffing out in front, but not very well, and her breasts ... man! They were just barely tucked inside the thing, swelling up all around with just a narrow crack running down between them ... like they were going to burst out any second...!
"Sit down, Milo," Barbara repeated, pointing toward the couch, placing her martini on the table beside it. She was pleased that he had ogled her to the fullest extent during those long seconds. His delightful eyes were bugging, and there was little question concerning the rise at the front of his trousers. "Would you like a Coke or something?"
"I ... ah ... no, thank you ... nothing, Mrs. Lindsey."
Barbara folded onto the couch beside him, a distance away, her leg bent beneath her to sit upon, her negligee fallen slightly open to reveal the ivory-white flesh of its mate halfway along her thigh. She lighted a cigarette and watched him sitting stiffly at the other end of the piece. God, what a sheer delight he was going to be! "We have a problem, Milo. I've been thinking about calling your father and talking to him rather than taking it to Mr. Stern...."
"No!" Milo exclaimed, sitting up and looking toward her, wide-eyed. "No ... please, no! He wouldn't understand! Please ... don't do that, Mrs. Lindsey! Anything but that...!"
Barbara dragged from her cigarette. "Marijuana is a serious charge, young man. I don't have to tell you that, do I?"
"No-no ma'am ... no, you don't," he answered quickly. "Only ... only don't tell my dad ... anything but that ... please?"
"All right, Milo," Barbara agreed softly. "What then ... what do we settle on? "
He looked away from her, down into his lap at his fidgeting hands. "I-I don't know ... honest ... I don't....It wasn't my weed....
I was carrying it for a girl ... but I won't tell you who! I won't!"
Barbara smiled at him. "That's noble, Milo
... and I admire you for it. Is ... is she your girl friend...?"
"I wish she was!" he blurted, eyeing her levelly.
"Don't you have a girl friend?"
"Well ... no ... not really I don't ... not one that I like...."
"Not a pretty one, is that it, darling?" Barbara said in her soft tone, letting the first of her endearments slip forth.
"Y-yeah ... that's right ... not even one I want to take to a show or something."
Barbara continued to smile. "That's hard to understand," she said almost whisperingly, "a handsome young boy like you. If I were your age, I'd love to be your girlfriend ... go to a show with you ... kiss you goodnight...."
For a long moment, Milo just sat and stared at her. Then: "Y-you mean it ... that is ... really mean it, Mrs. Lindsey?"
She laughed warmly. "Of course I mean it, darling ... and call me ... call me Barbara when we're here in my place ... in fact, we'll just pretend ... pretend that I am your real girl friend, all right? I mean ... would you like me to be? Would you take me to a show if I were...!"
"Oh man! Wow! I'd take you to the moon, Mrs. Lind ... Barbara," he said, his face flushing at the sound of her name coming from his own lips.
"And would you kiss me goodnight?" she taunted, knowing now that she had him for certain, the slight, excited stirring in the front of his jeans now obvious. "I mean, really kiss me like a girl should be kissed so that she knows that her boyfriend cares about her?"
Tightly, Milo swallowed as he stared at her, and when he couldn't speak, he nodded his head emphatically.
Barbara picked up her glass and drained it; she slithered along the couch toward him, narrowing their separation to inches, until she knew that he could smell the fragrance she wore; then, her eyes devouring him, her petulant lower lip quivering slightly, she said: "Show me, darling....Show me how you would kiss me ... if I were your girl friend...!"
She saw the tremble of excitement cause his whole young body to shudder. What she was doing to him was considerably less than normal; it wasn't even fair game ... but it was her game! He couldn't move; he was that awestruck.
"You sweet darling," Barbara hissed, reaching out and letting her arms slowly encircle him, drawing him to her. "You're safe with me, baby ... no one will ever know about that awful cigarette," she added, encompassing him within the aureole of her sensual charms, her full breasts flattening against the solidness of his young chest, her flat belly brushing his ... and then, she kissed him ... tenderly, but not open-lipped, yet with warmth and passion.
Barbara sensed his strong young hands clasping at her waist through the wispy material of her negligee, not searchingly, but with guarding protectiveness, bracing himself as she slowly let her lips part and her tongue seek the freshness of his youth!
Oh ... oh crap...! Milo thought crazily, his brain racing in wild excitement! She ... she was going to do it to him, too! He hadn't really believed that she would, even after he'd told Orvie Gaylord about the joint....The big slob had laughed. "Don't worry," he'd said. "She's going to turn-on with you, that's all, man. The chick has this thing for teen-agers, know what I mean? She comes on with a kid-cock in her mouth. But don't worry, man, she isn't about to sell you out! It's just your prick that she wants, like the rest of us ... only, I'll tell you true, baby, she gives me the whim whams with all the info she holds on us dudes...."
He had said more, but Milo had hardly heard him. He couldn't believe what the six feet of two-hundred-and-many-pound giant was handing him. Not Mrs. Lindsey, the nurse who had been taking care of his sprained ankle, the beautiful woman with the dark sparkling eyes, mini uniforms and knockout legs-Hell, no
... but ... but right at that moment she was kissing him with hot, moist lips ... holding him in a crushing grip against her flattened, full tits ... and ... and there was her tongue trying to wedge into his mouth...! Holy crap, her frigging tongue! Oh ... oh man, his cock was as hard as a gym rail, and jerking like crazy...!
"I can see that the idea comes as a bit of a shock to you, doesn't it, son?" Stevie's father said, standing there in that lousy mother-hubbard and talking through clenched teeth around his dead, inevitable pipe, while he washed the dishes.
He could see right and that was no stinking lie, the blond-haired boy mused bitterly as he took another plate from the rack to dry. All the same, shock or not, he had quickly decided to play it cool; his father was not one to be moved by the sight of tantrums, or even the idea that his only son was totally thumbs-down on the mere thought; instead, the graying-haired, lanky man would patiently gnaw away at his opposing reasons in his calm, logical manner until Stevie would finally fall into agreement, simply because there was nothing else for him to do. But this time it was going to be different; he could never agree to anyone trying to take his Mom's place...! He said, without looking at his Dad:
"Heck, we seem to get along pretty well, just the two of us. I don't see why we need another person around ... especially a woman ... uugghhhhh!"
David Hamilton chuckled, his strong white teeth still clenched against the pipe stem. Sometimes, it was difficult for him to realize that his young, handsome son was fifteen years old; his interests in girls seemed so damned casual. It was all baseball, football, sports of one nature or another ... which was probably just as well in the long run, he supposed. He had no doubts concerning Stevie's normal masculine desires, and there was certainly plenty of time for him once he set out on the chase. Nevertheless, the boy needed a mother ... just as he needed a wife. At thirty-eight, he wasn't quite over the hill, as his needing loins too often reminded him. Janet had been dead five years, and it had taken him that long to adjust. Her death had been a terrible loss to both Stevie and himself. He had never even considered remarrying; no one could take Janet's place in his life. But time is a healer of all wounds, as well as a great rationalizer.
When he had first met Barbara at a faculty meeting, he had immediately realized that. Janet would always have her tender place of love in his heart and memories. Later, as he felt a new love and desire growing in leaps and bounds for this beautiful, raven-haired creature, he knew that it was a place of her own she was taking in his heart, without ever disturbing that of his dead Janet ... but he could see that it was going to take time and fortitude to make Stevie understand it all....He said:
"Well, one thing we might consider with a woman around, Son ... we wouldn't have these dishes to struggle through every night."
"I'll take the dishes," Stevie answered acidly. "Besides, we could always hire a woman to come in, couldn't we?"
David nodded, still smiling to himself. "Yes ... I suppose we could. But then, let's consider your dad for a moment, Stevie ... he isn't getting any younger you know ... and it isn't natural for a man to go through life without having a mate...."
To Stevie Hamilton, there was something in his father's words that seemed to insult his Mom's memory, and he had all he could do to keep from blurting out his strong embittered feelings. He gritted his teeth and looked away. Of course, he had no idea if his parent had someone particular in mind, not that it would matter anyway. He knew lousy well that he'd never accept her! Dammit! He didn't want any stinking stepmother sleeping in his Mom's bed. And he wasn't fooled in the least what his father was getting at about it not being normal...!
Crap, he just wanted somebody to fuck was all ... he wasn't kidding anybody...! That's why he was always taking Mrs. Lindsey, the school nurse, out ... and man, the stories the guys had told him about her...!
It struck Stevie at that very moment, and he almost dropped the plate from between his hands! Crap almighty! It couldn't be her he was getting ready to spring on him ... could it...? Oh screw ... no! He better not! That was all ... he better not! Goddamn, he just better not, was all...!
Excitedly dominated by her martini-inflamed lust, Barbara held the boy tightly within her arms while she smothered his young, smooth face and lips with ardent kisses, her one slender hand finally moving down to his lap to find the swollen outline of his straining penis inside the tight-fitting jeans. She felt him tremble and gasp in her embrace at her touch, a galvanic sensation racing through her belly as she traced the hardened member delicately with thumb and forefinger, not at all displeased with its promising length and thickness.
"Hmmmmmmm, Milo ... it feels so hard," she whispered against his panting mouth. "It must hurt, all cramped inside there like that. Here ... let Barbara take it out so that it can stiffen right up straight for her-"
"Ohhh ... uuungh...." Milo Wilson grunted in confused, mounting tension, the feeling of her soft hand first caressing, then suddenly unzipping his fly to ease inside the cotton of his shorts and smooth over the hairy, trembling flesh of his pelvis, her warm, velvety fingers finally wrapping right around the shaft of his jerking cock, completely destroying him.
Holy crud! He couldn't have stopped her if he'd wanted to! Crazy tingles of unprecedented agitation charged through his groin up into his belly. Frig! She had his ramrod-cock right in her hand, and ... and she was stroking it ... sliding the loose outer skin up and down ... then ... crap almighty ... she was feeling his balls...!
"Ohhh, Milo baby ... you feel so good to your Barbara," she breathed hotly into his mouth, the terrific aroma and taste of her about to blow his mind...!"I think we better go into my bedroom where we can take our clothes off and get naked, don't you?"
Crap, he couldn't answer; his throat felt as if somebody had taken sandpaper to it! Then, she was smiling at him, her moist red lips half-opened, her long-lashed, sultry dark eyes sparkling with a million explosions. Oh man ... he knew he shouldn't ... but that he was going to! ... Yeah, he was going to do whatever she said! Anyway, what else could he do? ... She had caught him cold with the joint...! Oh man, she was beautiful ... and her tits were practically bursting right out of that lacy thing! ... He had to see them bare ... all of her ... her pussy and ass! ... Oh damn, she was stroking his throbbing cock again...!
"Well, baby ... don't you want to go into my bedroom and play some games with Nursey Barbara? ... Nice Sexy games...?" She squeezed his prick meaningfully. " ... Games like this...?" she added pruriently, slowly lowering her head downward in front of him and right over his thrusting, lead-hardened shaft of hot flesh.
Milo sensed his eyes bugging, even though he couldn't see the actual penetration; he felt her hand at the base of his cock drawing down the foreskin from the sensitive glans, and a second later the intoxicating contact of her tiny, moist tongue with the split at its tip, wiggling hotly into it, sending frenzied jolts of lascivious excitation charging helter-skelter through his young body.
He grunted loudly, then felt the soft dampness of her lush lips slipping over his prickling cock-head ... down ... down ... down! ... until he would swear she had sucked the whole length of his prick into the hot shelter of her mouth...! Her tongue lashed and he could feel the pressure of her sucking cheeks drawing on it for a long moment before she slowly raised her head, sucking her way up off of it ... until she was smiling into his mesmerized face once more....
"Games like that, Milo darling," she whispered sensuously, her beautiful lips that had just been wrapped around his cock glisteningly reflecting the light from the lamp in their full, ruby-like dampness. "You like...?"
He gaped at her and tried to swallow the parchedness that had dried up his voice from his throat. And when he couldn't, he simply nodded his head enthusiastically while she laughed in warm, understanding sympathy, taking his hand and drawing him up from the couch to lead along the hallway with his arched, belly-hugging cock sticking right out of his fly and waggling crazily as he walked. Crap! He'd never be the same after this! He knew that for sure, but he didn't care! He didn't care about anything ... nothing only the fantastic games, whatever they were, that she was talking about...!
David had no intention of pressing the idea onto Stevie all in one dose. It was going to take time. He was well aware of the strong love that had existed between Janet and the boy, and the fact that her death had severely shocked him. Had he not been of strong character, he might have suffered damaging remorse, as Doc Wilson had pointed out, but obviously he was staunchly oriented and had been able to accept and endure their tremendous loss ... perhaps even better than had he, himself.
Until Barbara, life had been little more than the obligation he had been left in raising a son. To think of a permanent feminine attachment in the wake of his beloved Janet had been utterly ridiculous. Oh, he might marry again, he had thought, but for convenience sake alone, certainly never for love.
And what was he contemplating? ... a strong love-filled marriage! He did love Barbara; he was certain of that ... had been for the past month since the repulsion of making his weekly trip to L.A. for a whore-visit had actually nauseated him. In all respect to their association, he couldn't any longer sanction that disgusting program. Not that his throbbing loins didn't function in their usual aching desire, but there were times when a well-meant hand was the lesser of two evils.
Barbara hadn't given him an answer the night before when he'd mustered up all of his courage and practically blurted out his proposal. He realized that it had jolted her; it had even jarred him! He'd kissed her goodnight after the play they'd attended and suddenly, he had asked her to marry him...! God! Now that he thought about it, what a shock it must have been to her!
All the same, he was extremely happy that he had, and though perhaps he was being a bit overconfident, he felt she was going to accept, which was why he had been dropping hints to Stevie before, through, and after dinner.
He sat presently in the living room, his freshly filled pipe lighted, coffee and a cognac beside him, watching Stevie at the desk sweating over a letter to a relative. Some minutes before, the thought had occurred to him that his son should know whom he was actually considering as his stepmother. Perhaps that might help. Stevie knew her inasmuch as she was the school nurse, and it was doubtful ... even though he was just a boy, sports-minded and all ... that he could look at her without appreciating her beauty. Physical attraction meant a great deal to boys of his age....
"Steve...? You too busy to talk?"
"Heck no," the boy replied, shifting his chair around so that he could look at his father. "I hate writing letters, anyway."
David smiled. He said: "What we've been talking about, Son....I mean, the possibility of me getting married again....I-I know and understand that it doesn't set well with you ... and why. But you see, I loved your mom, too. Even so, I've come to the conclusion that I can have a second wife without ever taking an iota of love from your mother's memory. The Lord made us that way, Son ... can you understand...?"
Stevie stared at him. He was off and running on the same subject again! Crap, he couldn't even think of anything to say, unless he blew his gourd entirely...!
"I mean it," his father went on. "I know how you feel, Son, but I have to think beyond such feelings ... even of my own, and I want to be honest about that. It's time that I married again, boy. You're not a child anymore; you're fifteen and you know the functions and needs of the physical self...."
Screw! ... Stevie thought bitterly. Here it comes! The whole lousy picture he had in his mind! That lousy witch had wormed her way into his middle-aged brain, destroying everything decent like his Mom's memory. How the crap did a guy cope with a parent when they flipped this way...?
"I've asked Barbara Lindsey, the school nurse, to marry me, Stevie. I'm in love with her!"
He might have cursed his Mom's name! That would have about the same impact ... even though he had surmised the whole friggin' picture. He was going to marry Barbara Lindsey ... bring her into their house to sleep in his Mom's bed...! Jesus Christ!
"Well, Son...?" the gangly man questioned softly while he puffed at his pipe. "No statements...?"
He could kill him! Crap almighty, he could tear him limb from limb! Mrs. Lindsey ... that bitch ... sucking off all the guys ... that's the way they said it, "sucking them off," and he wanted to marry her ... let her sleep in Mom's bed...!
"Oh...!" the boy gasped. "Oh...!"
David sat upright and forward in his chair, taking his pipe from his mouth. "What's wrong, Stevie? What is it? Did ... did I say something...?"
"Ooohhhhh shit!" Stevie blurted, getting to his feet and tipping over the chair in the act. He started to say more, but could not. Suddenly, he ran from the room toward his own, and David could hear the tumblers of the door's lock falling into place securely.
And that was that, David thought with a tight throat. In Stevie's eyes he had violated the memory of his mother ... but he hadn't ... truly, he had not! God knows, he had loved her, and had she lived there would never have been anyone else ... but she hadn't! Was he supposed to forget his own existence now! He loved Barbara Lindsey ... and maybe she loved him! The boy just had to learn ... no matter how painful his education was going to be...!