Chapter 3
As Frank walked into class late, Miss Clark looked at him with daggers.
"Well, Frank," she said, "what were you doing that detained you from coming to your sex education class?"
"Doing some sex education at home," Frank chuckled.
A ripple of laughter went across the classroom.
"That's not funny," Miss Clark said. "No doubt both of your parents are at work. I hate to think of what you might have been doing."
"Two guesses," he chuckled.
"I only need one, Frank," Miss Clark said. "No doubt you were masturbating. That's a very bad habit."
"Is it really," he smiled at her.
"It certainly is," she said. "I don't recommend it at all. As a matter-of-fact I think it is very important for young people to think about everything but sex. You see, there is altogether too much sexual thought. We are here in this class to give you some idea of how to control the passions that flare up in you."
"Yes, Miss Clark," he said quietly.
"Now, we will carry on where we left off. Today we are discussing dildos."
"What's a dildo?" a little girl asked.
"You see, Mary Ann, you don't pay any attention to what I say. I told you a dildo was used by a couple of women who are making it."
"Making what?" a little boy in the front row demanded.
"You're too young to be in this class," Miss Clark said. "Actually, I don't see how you ever got admitted. You see, people are always trying to find sexual satisfaction one way or another. And one of the easiest ways to find it, is in a substitute. The dildo is a substitute."
Reaching down into her desk drawer, Miss Clark pulled out a dildo to demonstrate.
"You see, students," she said, "the dildo is actually a replica of a penis."
"What's a penis," a girl asked at the back of the room.
"If you don't know now, honey," she said, "I'm certainly not going to tell you in this class. We're here to discuss sex with young people who know how to take it seriously. And I won't tolerate any of this foolishness."
"Well, that's an awful funny looking pecker you've got up there," a boy commented in a slow voice.
"This is an imitation," she said, "it's a substitute. When women decide to make it together, they use this. One woman straps it on, while the other woman receives it. It provides an opportunity for lesbians to have love."
"What's a lesbian?" one girl demanded.
"I told you last week," she said. "We took that lesbian test. You should remember that. This week it's the device test. It shows the various devices we could use in having sex and the dildo is one of the nicest."
"Did you ever use one?" Mary Ann smiled.
"I refuse to be grilled by you students," she said. "We are here to understand more about the nature of sex and sexual devices. Now, may I continue?"
There was silence in the classroom as the teacher has made her serious point. Now the teacher continued talking.
"Dildos come in various sizes," she smiled. "For example, there is a long dildo for women who have long vaginas. Of course, that only figures. It takes a longer penis to go into a longer vagina. That is how it works."
"Is that why they say some people are mismatched?" Mary Ann asked.
"Of course," Miss Clark continued, clearing her throat. "There are dildos that'have bladders. Bladders can be filled with various liquid substances. Then, when the bladder is full and the dildo is strapped on, a button could be pressed and the juice could spurt out. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"
"I don't know," Mary Ann said, with a dumb look on her face.
"I didn't mean for you," Miss Clark said, "I was referring to two women who want to make it like men. It gives them this opportunity. And the only reason we are discussing this is so all of you will have a better idea of what sex is all about."
She finished talking about that and then she continued, "Our other sexual subject that we will go into this week is incest. How many here know what incest is?"
Mary Ann raised her hand again.
"I don't want anyone hogging the show," she said. "I want someone else to join in. Yes, Billy."
Billy opened his mouth and told her what he thought.
"Incest is something you burn, it smells nice."
Miss Clark looked at him grimly:
"Are you a dumb-dumb, Billy? or are you just plain dumb?"
"Why are you talking that way to me, Miss Clark?" he demanded. "Teacher's aren't suppose to make fun of stupid people."
"Sorry," she said, "I didn't mean you were stupid. But certainly, incense has nothing to do with incest."
"What is it then?" Mary Ann demanded. "That was my answer."
"Well, you're misinformed," Miss Clark continued. "Incest has to do with people in the same family having sex together."
"You mean like a kid that screws his own mother?" young Frank asked shyly.
"Why, yes," she said, "that is incest."
Billy thought he had the answer and he waved his hand and bubbled out words before he had permission to.
"That's what you call a mother-fucker isn't it?" he asked.
"You could," Miss Clark nodded, "but you shouldn't. Those are vile words and we don't want them used."
Billy shook his head, dumbfounded.
"But, teacher," he objected, "I can't see this at all. If a kid is balling his own mom, that means he is a mother-fucker. He is fucking his own mother. That's not a dirty word."
"Mother isn't, Billy. Fucker is. It's a strange thing that you don't use the word intercourse."
"You mean mother-intercourser?" he adds.
"Let's drop the subject, dear," she said. "Suffice to say, incest means having sex with someone in the same family."
"Do you think that is sick, Teach?" Frank Bentley asked Miss Clark.
"I certainly do," she said. "It's a terrible thing. As a matter-of-fact, it's illegal."
"I know that," Frank said. "I once knew a boy who..."
She looked at him and wondered. Could Frank be involved with a sister or something? Yet she didn't dare say anything.
"I think perhaps, Frank I can talk to you after class about this."
"I wish you would, teacher," he said.
Just then the bell rang. Frank could hardly wait for the day to get through so he could go to his teacher and ask about the problem he faced. Finally, at three o'clock when classes were over he went forward.
"I'm so happy that you'll let me talk to you," he told Miss Clark.
"Well, I am too," she said. 'I think it's wonderful that you want more information. As a matter-of-fact, I was a little worried the way you were talking today. I couldn't quite put my finger on it honey, but something really had you uptight. Right?"
"Right," he agreed.
"What was it, darling?"
"I hate to talk about it," he said nervously.
"Go on," she insisted.
It wasn't going to be much longer now before he was going to be out with it.
"It's so confidential," he said quickly. "Maybe we should lock the doors."
"Is it that confidential?" Miss Clark said, arching an eyebrow.
"Oh, yes, it is." he told her. "I'm ashamed."
"Alright," she said, "if you want me to, I'll lock up."
Miss Clark went to the door and locked both doors.
"Now, what is it, dear?" she asked. "Well, I have a relative who is fucking another relative," he said.
"Is that so?" she said catching her breath.
"Yes," he said, "it's a relative of mine. Who?" he stopped.
"Go ahead," she insisted, "go ahead and tell me."
"Well, this kid is a mother-fucker," he said, "if you want to know the truth of it. I could say a mother-eater but I'm not going to. I don't know how he got involved with her. But he came and told me about it and that's how I found out about it."
"I see," she said, "well, be sure to tell him that it's a terrible thing he is doing. It's an awful thing."
"Oh, I will," he agreed, "you bet your life I will. It's very, very bad."
As they talked about it they became more and more nervous.
"Go ahead," she said, "I want to know all about this."
"Well, teacher," he said, "this relative of mine who's making it with his mom, got real excited one night. You know, a big hard cock and he didn't have any way to get his kicks. So, he decided that he would screw his own mother."
"What a dirty little boy," she said. "And it wasn't very nice of the mom to go along either. No respect to her."
"She isn't a bad sort," Frank hedged for his own mother.
"And the kid isn't bad either. It's just he had hot balls and wanted to get his rocks off, that's all."
"It's disgusting," she said, "perfectly disgusting, dear. If you had any respect for yourself, dear, you would never, never discuss it with him. You ought to tell him to go to a psychiatrist."
"Why should he go to the head-shrinker ? " he asked.
"Because," she said, "he has got to get ahold of himself. If he doesn't know how to control his cock size, possibly the psychiatrist could help him."
"I don't know if he would want to go to a psychiatrist," the boy said, "you see, it's nothing bothering his mind, it's his pecker that's giving him trouble.
"I know that," she said, "but the mind controls the penis."
"Well, I thought the balls did," Frank said.
"Dear," she said, "you're so terribly misinformed. I'm not going to carry on this conversation much longer. It seems I am getting nowhere fast."
"Sorry about that," he said, "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."
"Well, you're not causing me any trouble exactly," she explained, "but you're confusing me. Maybe we should drop this sexual discussion."
"Teacher," he asked her, "did you ever hear of the automatic cock sucker?"
"Oh, of course, I have," she said, "but it isn't something I like to discuss with the children. Certainly I have read about it. It's considered quite a marvelous invention, but it's for adults."
"How does it work, teach?" he asked.
"I don't think this topic really falls under the category of our sexual education course. I'm sorry but it is quite a personal, confidential matter."
"Tell me about that cock-sucking machine," the young boy said to the teacher. "And I want to know where you can order one. How about that?" He had a sly smile on his face.
"Listen, I know what you want it for," she said. "You want to plug it in and put it on your own penis so that it will suck you off. Now, forget it."
"Oh, no," Frank shook his head, "I wanted to give it to that relative of mine who's having sex with his mom. If I could stop a mother-fucker from fucking, wouldn't that be good?"
"Oh, it certainly would," she said quickly, "let me tell you it would. What do you propose?"
"I propose that we buy this relative this cock-sucking machine. He can plug it in the wall, slip it over his prick, and that will take care of it. Just like that."
"It isn't quite that simple," she said tersely. "I hate to disillusion you, I don't think that boy who is so confused would use this substitute measure."
"What does substitute mean?" he said.
"Don't you learn anything in English?" she said. "Substitute is a very common word."
"Don't try to put me down," he said. "I'm not a dumb-dumb no matter what you think."
His eyes were flaring with anger as he looked at the teacher.
She threw her head back and laughed trying to calm him down.
"Oh, no, honey, I'd never suggest that you were a dumb-dumb. You're a very bright boy. As a matter-of-fact, too bright for your own good. That is why this relative of yours has confided so much truth to you. And, I think it is very nice of you to want to help him out of his trouble. But I think he will have to find his own way out. I doubt if once he has experienced sex with his own mom, that the cock-sucking machine would do much good."
"Wouldn't hurt to try, would it?" he continued in his questioning.
"No, darling," she admitted, "it probably wouldn't. Alright, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you the name and address of the outfit where you can order one. They are quite expensive. I don't normally do this, but in an unusual case where I think it would help a very unpleasant situation shall we say?" she nodded, "I do. Alright?"
They nodded, and then they both were at ease. She scribbled down the name and address of the company from a brochure she had in her desk.
"You didn't put the price," he told her.
"Oh, that's right," she said. "Sucking Suzy is what they call it. It costs $35."
"That's a lot of money for a blow-job, teacher," he said.
"That's true," she laughed, "but you see this Suzy sucking machine can be used over and over. I hear the normal going rate for a good blow-job starts at $10 and ends at $20. A deluxe job is $25."
"What makes it a deluxe job?" he asked.
"Look, honey," she said, "that's for the next grade. I'm not supposed to give you all the information."
"Tell me," he said, "I'm real well hung."
"That's what you say," Miss Clark laughed.
He didn't let her have any lingering doubts. He unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. It was getting harder as he stroked it.
"Put your prick back in your pants," she said indignantly, "how dare you do a thing like that?"
"You were casting aspersions on my manhood," he informed her. "I'm very well hung and I wanted you to know it."
"Well, that's nice," she said. "It's nice to know the kids are developing faster these days. That's all we need is more babies in the world. With a prick like that son, you'd better order that Suzy automatic sucking machine. It would do us a lot of good if you would use it for a few years and not impregnate any more girls at the school."
"You don't have to worry about me," he said quickly, as he went on stroking his prick. "I'm doing it with an older woman."
"Someone about my age?" she asked.
"You'd do fine," he said at her sexily.
"Frankie, baby," she said, "if you don't put that cock back in your pants and I mean quickly, I'll get the principal in here."
"I don't want the principal to do me," he said. "I want you to do it. What kind of character do you think I am?"
"I have some pretty good ideas," she said. "I don't care to go into details. Now, put that meat back."
"I'd like to go into the tail," he said, "your ass-hole."
She glared at him angrily.
"I could make you write a thousand times 'I should never use dirty words' and you would regret what you have just said."
"Would I?" he smiled, reaching in and fingering his nuts.
"Why you're terrible," she said, "you're a young teen-age sex fiend."
"Maybe, they'll make a movie of my life," he laughed. "Sounds like a good title-'I was a Teen-age Sex Fiend!' "
"Yes," she said, and they better not subtitle it 'And I Screwed My Teacher' because, baby, you're not getting me, no way."
"Do you wear a chastity belt?" he smiled smugly, as he went on pulling his meat.
"Yes, I do," she said, "and it's locked. And don't think I'm going to give you the combination or the key."
"Do you need both to get to it?" he smiled, as he went on pumping his cock.
"Yes," she said, "when one is very valuable, one must make it as difficult to obtain. You know what I mean."
There was no doubt in her mind about anything now.
"You know," she said, "I really despise you, Frank. I see that that prick is ready to juice."
"Why do you despise me, teacher," he asked.
"Because," she said, "we just had the floors waxed yesterday."
"Sorry about that," Frank said, as the juice spurted out his penis and all over the newly-waxed floor.
"That's nice," she said, "getting the floor dirty. Well, I'm sick and tired of this sex class. Too many of the people here are doing just what you're doing. Only they don't have the courtesy to clean it up. Here's a tissue, Frank, clean up your mess. I'll be darned if I will."
"You should have said damn," he laughed, as he bent over.
"Why should I use loose language?" she demanded.
"Because it fits," he said.
"Enough of this," she said, "you wipe that mess up and be fast about it. I don't want the janitor to come in here and see your cum all over the floor."
"I do shoot a lot, don't I," he smiled.
"That you do," she said tightly, "and I think you are beyond my help."
"That's good," he said.
She was looking at him now and laughing.
"You know," she said, "you really are something else. I have never had a student that was so distressing to me. And, if you want to bring that boy in who is making it with his own mother, I think I could give him a piece of my mind."
"I don't think he would be interested in a piece of your mind, teacher," he said smugly. "I think he might be interested in a piece of ass, though."
"Frank, take this bar of soap and wash your foul mouth out with it."
"I'm no different than all the movies they're making," he said. "They used foul words in 'The Last Tango in Paris'. "
"What do you know about that movie?" she demanded.
"Oh, I read up about it," he said, "it's about this old movie star, Brando, who is recapturing his youth or something, after his wife has been stabbed in the bathtub or something. Well, he brings this dame up to his place and she pulls her coat back and then he thrusts his cock in. It isn't a very clean movie. But, I guess it's better than killing Indians off."
"What has killing Indians off got to do with what's going on in that 'Tango' picture?"
"I don't know," he shrugged, "but I guess the guy said he didn't like Indian movies but he-likes fuck films."
"He never said anything of the sort," she said. "You have a foul mind."
"Sory about that," he said, "but that was what I thought."
"You're wrong," she said, "that picture has a lot of beauty. It has lovely scenes of Paris, beautiful shots of flowers and a young girl who dances."
"Does she dance in the nude?" he said.
"Of course not," she said, "there is one little scene where Brando is dancing the tango where he pulls his pants down and shows his ass off."
"I don't care to see that picture if they can't let the girl dance in the nude, why should I go watch him pull his pants off."
"Well, they do have one scene you'd like," she said. "No doubt you'd like the scene where he washes the girl off naked in the tub."
"Well, I should hope that she has her clothes off if she is taking a bath," he laughed.
"She does," she said, "and they say it's a marvelous scene. He puts a lot of feeling into his fingers."
"He's quite an actor," he said. "He really is. I saw him once in a picture. Ah, 'Mutiny on something' I think."
"Oh, I know that one you're talking about," she said, "yes, he was playing Captain Bligh."
"That's the one," he said. "That was a great picture."
Now, she noticed the floor was clean. Yet, he still had his cock out of his pants.
"You're still indecent," she said. "Would you do something about it?"
"I don't have a hard on," he said.
"You don't have to have a hard on to be indecent," she said. "The mere fact that you're displaying that before my eyes is enough to be indecent. A young student never shows his teacher his privates."
"Why not?" he asked curiously. "If you're the sex teacher, shouldn't you know about all these things?"
"I know everything I need to know to teach the class on sex," Miss Clark said rather grimly. "But that doesn't mean that I have to be exposed to the vile sight of your genitals, does if?"
"I don't think that is very flattering," Frank said. "I think you are making fun of me. Making fun of my peter. And my balls for that matter. I don't know how far it goes."
"Ridiculous," she said quickly, "you're talking just ridiculous and I won't tolerate any more."
"I won't either," he said. "You haven't got a nice attitude."
"I'm not being paid for my attitudes," Miss Clark said. "I'm being paid to teach, and I'm sorry that you don't appreciate what I am trying to do for you. You are really a very difficult person. You are impossible, in one word."
"Am I?" he demanded.
"Yes, you are," she said indignantly, "and I am furious."
"Don't get too uptight," he chuckled.
"I will if I want to," she said. "Put your penis back in your pants. Put your penis back in your pants."
"I hear you," he said, sticking his dick back in his pants. He zipped up and looked at her.
"Did I turn you on, teacher?" he smiled.
"I should say you didn't," she said. "I have a perfectly beautiful relationship," she said. "I find all the sex fulfillment I need."
"But you're not married, Miss Clark," he said.
"No, I'm not," she said, "but I have all the companionship with my lover that I need."
"Your lover?" he said, "who is that?"
"Who my lover is, is none of your business. Let me tell you something, Frankie, I am taken care of very adequately. And, I am not interested in getting together with young boys in my classroom. As a matter-of-fact, from what I've heard about the way you fellows are cleaning yourselves it would be frightening, horrifying experience."
"Would it really?" he smiled slyly.
"You bet it would," she said quickly.
Frank left her and walked out into the hall. Just as he did so a cute little blonde named Terrie saw him. She called out to him, "Hi Frank," she smiled, "how are you today?"
"Just fine, Terri," he told her.
Terri and he walked along for a moment or two and then she said, "Could I tell you something real confidential?"
"Why, sure, if you want to, Terri," he said.
"You sure you wouldn't tell anybody?" she said glancing about her shoulder.
"Of course not," he said, "you can trust me."
"Can I?" she said quickly.
"Of course you can," he smiled.
"Well," she said, "I'm going to be a mother."
"But you're only 15 years-old," he said.
"Yes," she said, "I'm going to be a young mother.
"Too young," he said, "You aren't old enough. You ought to wait."
"Mama Nature won't wait," she said. "That's what, comes of going to these orgies."
"You go to orgies?" he asked Terri.
"Yes," she said, "and I've never felt happier or as free before."
She had a broad smile and she didn't seem one bit saddened by her situation. Then he looked at Terri.
"Why are you talking to me about all this?" he said.
"Because," she said, "our child has to have a god father."
"Me, a god father?" he smiled at her.
"Why, yes, Frank," she said. "Why not?"
He looked at her and said glumly "Well, you have me picked as the god father, but who you got for the father?"
"I don't have any idea," she said. "It could be four or five guys."
"Oh, Terri, that's terrible," he said. "Is it?" she said anxiously. "Is it really?" He tried to understand how she looked at life. Apparently she had quite a different view than he did.
"I think we are all children of this world," she said excitedly, "and I think we all belong here. It's a paradise we have been born into and, I have no regrets about anything. Particularly sex. Baby, you don't know what I can do."
"I guess I won't now either," he said. "Now that you joined the ranks of the pregnant."
"I can still use my mouth, baby," she said, "and we might even try an anal trip."
"No, Terri," he told her, "you ought to be thinking of the baby now, not sex. And perhaps you could pick one fellow that you could say was the father." .
"It's a funny thing," she said sadly, "they all wanted to screw me, but now nobody wants to say he might be the father. Isn't that strange?"
"Is it?" he asked. "Think a minute. The reason they aren't anxious to admit being the father is that they may not be. Doing it with as many men as you have, they just don't know for sure."
"I guess that's the truth," she agreed.
"You know," he said, "I really feel awful that you are involved like this. You are a nice girl. You have every right to be happy and I want to see you happy. But if your child is never to know his father, I don't see how you can be happy."
"Well," she said, "I may be a goof but I think the important thing is just being alive. Worrying about who your father is or who your mother is, that's not important. But I don't want them to discriminate against my child and call him a 'bastard'. "
"Well, what is he?" he asked.
"He's my child," she said. "That doesn't have to make him a bastard does it?"
"Oh, no," he admitted, "it doesn't, but people are funny."
Terri looked at him and tears formed in her eyes.
"I'll bet you think I'm immature, don't you?"
"Now, what would ever make you think that?" he chuckled.
"Well, you're not acting like a god father," she said nervously. "A god father should be real happy. Instead of being happy, you're acting as though I've done something terrible. Do you think I've done the wrong thing?"
"Well," he said, "there are a lot of people I know that do things wrong. For example, I have a relative, who has sex with his own mom."
"A mother-fucker," she said. "You know a mother-fucker?"
"Yes, I do," he said. "What's so strange about that?"
"Well, I've heard people called that name," she said, "but I never met a real live mother-fucker in my life. He must be very strange."
"What about yourself?" he asked curiously. "Don't you feel that you are a little bit strange? Maybe now and then you might think you've done the wrong thing and you are making a hell out of life for a child that isn't even born. Did you ever think of that?"
"I withdraw calling you the god father of my child," Terri said. "I think you have said things that make it impossible for you to serve in that fine position. I'll go find another god father."
He looked at her and told her frankly, "Maybe it isn't the god father that you are looking for. Maybe, it is something else. Maybe you want someone to say 'right is wrong and wrong is right'. Well, I am never going to say that it is right that you have a kid and you don't know who the father is or at least make an attempt to give the kid a father. What about yourself? Wouldn't you feel awful if you didn't have a father?"
"Well," she said, "with the father I've got, I think I would feel better without one."
She got so angry she turned her head and walked away from him and he was left alone. He felt nervous and tired now. He wished that he had never got involved with telling the teacher about sex. He suspected that she suspected him and this bothered him no end. Yet, there was nothing he could do or say that would take back the words that he had spoken. This was what bothered him no end. The more he thought about it, the more guilty he became.
"Honey," a voice behind him said, "would you tell me who that relative is of yours who's having sex with his own mother?"
He looked back and there was Miss Clark gazing at him.
"No," he said, "I couldn't." He shook his head quickly and said, "I made it up. I just wanted to see what you would say."
Miss Clark shook her head in disbelief.
"I don't believe you, Frank," she said in a quiet voice. "It's nice of you to cover up for your relative, but I just don't believe you. You see, if we could help him and his mother, then there wouldn't be any problem. We could stop it before it got to one of those desperate moments."
Curiously he asked her, "What do you mean
'desperate moments'? "
"Always in a strange affair like that, a time comes when everybody gets uptight and desperate and then the situation is so far out of hand there isn't help for anybody."
"You mean like a murder?" he asked.
"Yes," she grinned, "I mean like a murder. Just like one of those murder mysteries from Alfred Hitchcock."
"Well," he said, "if it was interesting enough, they could make a movie out of it."
"Yes," she said, "they could. But wouldn't it be a lot better to stop something terrible from happening and write a fiction story about the movie?"
"Well, it wouldn't be a true story then," he said...."
"I think you might be the one," she said, "who is making out with his mom. Even though you won't tell me, let me tell you something. If you continue in the path you're pursuing, you're going to bring trouble. Trouble for everyone. Yourself, your mom. Maybe I've been all wrong. If I have, will you please forgive me, Frank?"
"There is nothing to forgive," he said. "You haven't said anything that would offend me. I was telling you the truth, but you were so blind you couldn't see it."
"Maybe," she said, "maybe yes, maybe no."
Then Miss Clark walked off. But Frank was so shook up, he could hardly walk out of the schoolhouse that day.