Chapter 3
THE WOMAN WHO USES "DULL" BOYS FOR ABNORMAL CRAVINGS
At age 39, Yvette is pleasingly plump. She has three children of her own. Her husband was one who felt that sex was solely a man's realm. He would spend several moments in fondling Yvette, then he would proceed with coitus. She recalls, "If only he would have kissed my breasts, or even played with my little hot button (her clitoris) it would have helped me become excited. But he only cared about his own pleasures.
He would get excited, then he would mount me and thrust until I had to bite down hard on my lip to keep from screaming. He would thrust and plunge with the fury of a stallion until at long last he reached his climax.
"When it was over, he would just stroke and play a little, then he would roll over and go to sleep. What could I do? I had to play with myself and once I had to use the head of a Coke bottle. OOOO, it felt good, the big knob, just like a man's. It made me go to the top. But I don't care to do it to myself. That's only for the kids. So what else was there left for me? There were the children and taking care of a house. Still, I am a woman and I have my desires."
Yvette might never have "discovered" the innocence of young boys had it not been for the time when she drove toward town, experienced a tire blow out and hobbled into a nearby filling station. She saw this handsome looking garage mechanic, hardly more than 16 or 17, yet he had an even younger look because of his rather blank expression. Something drew her to him. It was undoubtedly the pent up frustrations of being denied fulfillment.
His name was Jimmy Waters. He had deep blue eyes that were constantly looking at the legs of women and also trying to perceive the privates of girls who wore high rise mini skirts.
"Hi, lady. Want me to fix your car?" He looked at Yvette with the same intimate penetration. He licked his lips. "What's wrong? I can fix anything."
Yvette found her heart pounding. She felt the warmth of this boy. She wondered, for just a fleeting moment, what it would be like to fondle him, to feel his mouth on her loins. Would he express shock, as did her husband, by saying he wasn't queer and didn't do such things? No, this boy was obviously "dull" and a bit on the retarded side, although he was physically mature.
"Just my tire," she said. "Would you put on a new one?" She slid out of the car, deliberately letting her skirt hike up over her knees. She wore a pair of postage stamp size panties and the pink was so flesh-coloured, she might have looked nude. She caught Jimmy's hot glare. "I'll just freshen up a bit." She wiggled her bottom when she went to the ladies room.
Moments later, she heard someone coming into the adjoining rest room. There was a wire grill dividing the two; she was seized with a sudden impulse. She stood on top of a carton and peered into the men's room.
There was Jimmy. He was filling a pail with water. Then he paused. He was fondling himself. He opened his work pants and then freed himself.
Yvette gasped. "Of all the things," she whispered to herself, her heart thumping wildly, her blood soaring, her throat constricted. "He's got some thing there." She watched as the good looking boy fondled and slid his male flesh, self-manipulated.
Just then, a noise from outside alerted Yvette and with bitter frustration, she had to climb down and pretend to be applying makeup. Another woman had come inside. She was so wrought up, she felt the familiar throb at her loins. That boy was like a young mule. She was not so much interested in having him the usual way. Truth was, she felt frightened of the thick rod like power. He might tear her apart. But she wanted him to do something else. She knew that she could tease him into it, but the problem was to get him alone.
Back outside, she waited until Jimmy came over to the car. The thick pouch was outlined against his work pants. He smiled stupidly. "I just hadda go," he looked embarrassed. "I'll fix it."
"Do you live around here?" Yvette wanted to make some conversation with him, however inane. "I don't recall seeing you at the station before." She purposely parted her legs as she stood there.
Jimmy, kneeling, was able to get a real good view up her dress. He licked his lips. He made a peculiar oral sound. "I was away," he said lamely. "But now I've got a room over the garage, round the bend."
So he lived by himself. That was interesting. Yvette thought it over quickly.
"I'll bet you and your girl friend must have a lot of fun." She flashed a grin, then bent over. The action pushed her breasts tightly against her bodice. The nipples jutted through her thin bra. She had good breasts, despite the fact that she had three children. The nipples needed just a little lip-teasing and they would grow rigid. She wanted this boy's mouth on her body. "You look like a lively boy."
"Awww, don't have much time for girls," he said, then stared between her thighs, almost seeing the delicate parts that were concealed by the panties. "You got a boy friend?"
Now Yvette knew she could have him. This dope didn't even have the sense to know that she was so much older than he and obviously married. "Nobody steady," she said haltingly. She reached into her purse and removed some cigarettes. "After you finish, you can have one. I wouldn't want you to blow up the car."
He flashed a grin, looking boyishly cute and stupid. "I don't blow nothin' up, lady. Nothin' much, I mean." He made some goon sounds and low throated chuckles.
That was how Yvette made her intitial conquest. She purposely "forgot" her cigarette lighter. She feigned clicking it and when it did not light, gave it to Jimmy. He lit cigarettes for both of them and absentmindedly put the lighter into his pocket. That was the way Yvette gained entrance to his small two room apartment over the garage. She went there to retrieve the lighter.
"What do you do for fun?" she asked, when she was seated on a broken chair opposite him. She had not expected it to be so shabby. "You must drive the girls wild with your cute looks."
"Girls are scared o' me," he grinned. At the same time, he kept scratching his crotch, fondling himself lewdly. He licked his lips as he kept looking at her low cut bodice, at the way her silken legs were casually crossed. "Girls say I hurt them."
"It's all in the way that you do it, Jimmy." She seized this opportunity. "You need someone to instruct you."
Yvette, like most adult women-pedophiles, delight in instructing younger boys in the arts of fleshly debaucheries. They satisfy their depraved interests by molding the innocents in their abnormal casts. One prime motivating factor for the sexual craving of innocents by the adult woman is to train them into abnormal acts while they are still blithefully unaware of morals.
"I got enough to have fun." He leaned closer; the movement brought his tight jeans together so that the bulge gave evidence of his arousal. "Ever play around?"
Yvette had to laugh silently. This was ridiculous. This boy was stupid to the point where he did not know anything about the so-called niceties of preparations. This was the best part of it all.
"Now, Jimmy, you mustn't be so anxious.
But before we do anything, let's understand that I will show you just how to make love. Understand?"
He was excited now. He nodded up and down. "Sure, sure. Want to take your clothes off now?" Already, he was fumbling with the buttons of his blue work shirt and in a flash, had stripped it off. He revealed a surprisingly athletic body, bronzed and hard-muscled, with thick pectorals, billiard-ball like biceps and strong forearms. "Come on, I can't wait."
Yvette gaped at the spectacle of this nearly nude dull-witted boy. His body was exciting with his innocent young brawny power. She saw the washboard abdominals, the deeply inset navel; then she saw the thick swirl of his hirsute foundation, and the enormous power that jutted forth like a powerful lancer. When he slithered out of his jeans, his well developed buttock cheeks were taut and powerful. His thighs were strong, covered with a soft dark down. His kneecaps were firm. His legs were solid. Naked, he looked like a young lifeguard at the peak of his virile manliness.
"You've got something good there," she was bubbling over with joy as she doffed her clothes, then unhooked her bra. She kept staring at the dopey boy's wavering joust-like power and the swinging pouch beneath. "Now, I'll show you just what you have to do." When the bra fell off, Yvette's moon-shaped breasts bounced into view. She still wore her panties. She would not remove them herself. She loved having a boy do that, having him stroke and fondle what he discovered beneath. She would teach this dumb cluck how to do it. He was too dumb to know anything about guilt feelings or morals. "Come here."
"Yeah," he was breathing thickly. His solid, chunky body moved with an athletic grace that was tantamount to that of the ancient Roman gladiators. He had a smooth bronzed tan. "Whatcha want me to do?"
He embraced her. His rock hard body pressed tight while his hands went over her soft back, then around in front where he fondled her breasts. "These are nice and big." He fondled her areolars, but even when they sprang to erect life, he was too dumb to recognize this as part of the normal response. "They're big."
Yvette's nerves were screaming as she stroked and kissed him. This was like a young sexual animal. She fondled his hard-muscled buttocks, then reached beneath, and from the depths of his warm upper thighs, found the swinging pouch. She felt his shudder when she clutched them.
"Like two big oranges," she gasped as she hefted them, and then she saw that he was so aroused, it might be over before she got what she wanted out of him. She released him, stroked his powerful weapon. "Now, you pull my panties down. But first, insert your hands and play with me. A little bit."
He looked blank. His breathing was shallow and his dark eyes were filled with obvious lustful cravings. Each breath sent a wave of muscular power through his body. There was a strangely fascinating male aroma about his body. He was soon glazed with his own nervous perspiration.
"Aw, come on, lemme do it to you," he pleaded. "I can't wait." He clutched his pendulous power and slid his flesh until there were warming spasms and gasps. "Come on, please."
"You better not do that," she slapped his hand away. "I saw what you did in the bathroom at the filling station." She smiled at his obvious shock. Something seemed to penetrate. "Now, Jimmy, if you don't do what I want you to do, I'll tell everybody what you did."
He hung his head in remorse. "Aw, don't do that. Whatcha want me to do?"
"I told you. Pull my panties down. Use your fingers where I tell you." By now, the older woman was so supercharged with libidinal longing, she would have succumbed to anything if only to be given release. It had been so long since her husband had even fondled her. She needed it desperately. "Go on, do as I say, or I'll go around and tell the whole town that you were playing with yourself."
For some peculiar reason, the boy feared exposure. It seemed to penetrate his thick head that he had done something bad and he was ashamed of it. He stopped manipulating and now he took hold of the waistband of Yvette's panties. His hands were warm and sweaty. His grubby fingers stimulated Yvette until she felt her nerves screaming at the base of her scalp.
She all but swooned when Jimmy's fingers went beneath. She saw his stupid leer, the drooling look, the incongruous Tarzan-physique that oozed masculinity. It all added up to a bizarre reaction. Every nerve was taut and alive. Her nipples were rigid. Her spreading areolars were so engorged that if this dumb lout would just flick his tongue over them, it would be enough to send her into orbit.
"That's it, that's the way," she clutched onto his thick biceps, almost swooning at the ripple of his sinews. "Now, put your fingers in the slit. OOOOOO, that's good, OOOOO, so good. Use both fingers and rub them ... ahhhhh...." She was deliriously happy and spasms tore through her loins. She clutched onto Jimmy's red hot pendulous powers and fondled him delicately.
"Lemme do it now ... now...." He was pleading with her. "Now ... I can't hold it...." His young body broke out into a hot sweat; the glazed sheen emphasized his jungle boy innocence. "Please...."
"Pull my panties all the way down," she commanded. "If you don't do what I say, I'll scream," she chortled in hoarse tones. "Do what I say!"
Dumbly, he slid down her panties, gaping at the exposure of her pelt, then he found the warm perineum that he fondled, with as much pleasure as a dopey child with a new discovery. "Hey, this is nice," he drooled. The panties were slid down over her firm, full thighs.
Now she came to her next plan of abnormal conquest. "Pull my panties down to my feet. Kneel down, damnit." She could scarcely control herself. She wanted to feel his moist mouth on her loins. If she did not have his mouth, she could throttle him! "Go on!" she snapped. "Or else I'll take a whip to you!"
"No, no, don't hit me, don't hit me." He reacted with a peculiar fear of punishment; it brought back to mind the floggings he had received when placed in the institutions. "No, do not hit me."
Quickly, he knelt in a semi-squat. His broad back spread out; the muscles were like thick slabs. It was unbelievable. This young gladiator this dull-witted buck, was going to be her slave! It was something out of her wildest dreams. She knew she could never do it with an adult male. That was why she sought to conquer dull-witted sloths such as this one. They would be unable to resist. They were too dumb to know otherwise.
When the panties were around her ankles, she stepped out of them. She bent, scooped them up and flung them to the dark side of the dingy room. Her breasts swung like twin melons on a bough.
"Now, just come closer. No, no, you stupid idiot," she screamed. "Don't get up. Kneel down there. Kiss ... kiss ... IT."
He licked his lips. Now he faced the raised mons veneris, saw the protruding vaginal folds of flesh, the nugget-like clitoris in the upper sectors of the vulvar groove. He wavered between acquiescence and doubts. "B-but...." He wanted to form the words that it "was dirty" but the thick fogs of his retarded psyche did not permit permeation of any slight civilized understanding. "I ... don't...."
By now, Yvette was so wracked with tortuous anxieties, she could no longer control herself. "Damn it. I'll make you do it!" She seized his head, forced it forward. She twisted her pelvis, parted her thighs and when she felt the boy's hot breath, she all but screamed. "That's the way. Kiss ... kiss ... kisss ... or I'll take a whip to you."
This last threat forced him onto deeper depraved penetrations. He mouthed Yvette, his tongue and lips paying oral homage. She urged him on. Slowly, the banked up fires leaped into flames and when she felt every nerve screaming, when she was hysterical with joy, when she laughed and cried at the same time, the explosion rocked her innards.
"Now, now, it's going ... keep on, keep on ... more ... use your teeth ... nibble, nibble ... OOOOO, that's the way...." With that, she slammed her pelvis onto his face and that was how she soared into dynamic orbit. Again and again, she felt the wondrous voluptuous explosions as she was wracked with one spasm after another. It felt so good. She wanted it to last forever.
"How about me?" Jimmy squatted nakedly on the floor, fondling himself. "Do it to me."
Yvette had rarely done such a thing. Yet, this time, she felt she might proceed because it would be one way to enslave this dope. "On the bed. Hurry up." She was still rosy-glowing from the wondrous sensations. Ohhhhh, if only her husband would do something like this.
Jimmy sprawled out on the bed. "Do it to me good, please."
Yvette's fingers played with his strong, vibrant young body. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, the warmth flowing through his sinews. Her mouth fell to the task. It took a few moments until she had Jimmy riding on the crest.
"Now, it's now ... OOOO," he erupted into garbled gibberish, as he reached the top. He bolted on the bed, bucked wildly as he erupted into the expulsion of his spurting lust. "Oooo," you do it gooder 'n the guys...." That was the only indication that he had been sexually assaulted by men. "Oooooo," he was unable to stop the outgushing eruption. At long last, he was depleted.
Yvette did not know whether to feel sick or repulsed. She raced to the bathroom, her breasts and buttocks dancing with her movements. She washed up. Then she came back and looked at the dumb countenance of the bronzed young jungle-like Tarzan.
He was fondling himself again, partially flaccid.
"I like that. We're gonna do it some more, eh?"
"Not now, Jimmy, I've got to get going." Now that she had found relief, she was eager to return home. She had a husband and children of her own to take care of. "But you'll be seeing more of me. And remember: not a word to anybody or I'll take a whip to you." She had some slight worries about this stupid lout blabbing but the urgent needs for carnal satisfaction outweighed customary caution. "Hear me? No talking about it!"
He looked blank. "Sure, sure." It was apparent that he would keep quiet. "It felt good, didn't it?" He grinned.
Yvette dressed herself while the dumb kid watched. She even flaunted herself before him playfully, liking the way he fondled her. Some desire renewed itself but the growing concern about family duties forced her to restrain herself.
"It'll feel good next time, too," she promised.
There were other "next times" and now that this depraved 39-year old woman had discovered that young boys could be trained and coached into debaucheries, she wanted to have different ones.
Yvette would become a "foster mother" of slightly retarded or "delayed" boys and would even take one or two of them into her home when her husband and her own children would go off to their summer home for weekends.
Yvette would play games with these dull-witted boys, saying that she would mention a word and they had to point to their bodies to identify the meaning. She would invariably lead to the sex parts and this would create a sensual situation that erupted into debaucheries.
It was only when one boy, who had a slurring speech problem, said something to a supervisor in the institution that suspicion was cast. All Yvette did was make herself absent until the suspicions died down.
One only wonders what will happen when the truth comes out. Yvette uses these unfortunate lads to perform oral eroticism upon herself until she reaches a climax. One occasionally demurs, and Yvette then rouses him orally but refuses to allow him completion, unless he mouth-services her at the same time. This usually forces them to complete the oral friction upon her privates and she then performs fellatio upon them. Eventually, something will happen and a scandal will erupt, ruining all parties involved.
Yvette is one of many older women who take advantage of innocent lads and warp them into performing carnal acts. We may wonder what her rection would be if her own sons were involved with another older woman!!