Chapter 1
The closeness of a clean young prick had Helen Hornaday breathlessly excited and marvelously frightened. The bicycle ride she was on added to it. At thirty-nine years of age she was too old to be this close to a male other than her husband, and far too old to be riding on the crossbar of a bicycle. It was crazy to feel this way and do such a thing, but she'd felt more than just a little crazy ever since she'd started on her diet Right now, for instance, she felt like reaching behind her and fondling the open crotch that was radiating its heat so insistently against her bare back. That was crazy, just as it had been crazy of her to ask this neighborhood youth for a ride back home on his bicycle when hers had broken its chain in the park that afternoon.
Although she badly needed the exercise, her daily bicycle rides had been crazy journeys because of the attitude in which she'd taken them, but this was the craziest one of all, to end up in this fashion. Of course it wasn't ended yet, for her house was still two blocks away. And the way she was feeling, so dizzy with hot flashes, the afternoon's incidents might become even crazier.
She was excited and frightened and improperly hungering for the prick hardening behind her back, and it was all because of her new diet, and yet she was determined to stay on that diet, whatever the cost.
The boy's legs were pumping steadily on each side of her. The hard crossbar of his sturdy old bicycle was pushing the wet crotchhand of her shorts against her pussy in an even more stimulating fashion than her bicycle seat had been doing. Helen felt just as crazy as could be when she laid her forearm on his bare thigh, squeezed his knee, smiled over her bare shoulder at him and said, "I hope you're not getting tired, Kenny. We're almost there now."
His tanned face went pale and he swerved the bicycle and almost lost it. Helen felt sick for a moment at the prospect of crashing to the pavement, but that feeling was immediately transformed into one of even greater exhilaration. The swerving of the bicycle gave her the opportunity to grasp both his lightly perspiring legs, to lean back in the circle of his arms and feel his bare chest with her back, and to squeal like a giddy girl of fifteen.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Hornaday!" he said, panting. "I won't let you fall!"
"Oooo, Kenny!" she squealed, feeling his firm young flesh from her elbows to her fingertips, feeling the heat from his loins sending lovely hot chills up and down her spine.
Mercifully, he took the alley route to the Hornaday house on Elm Street in the old Bellerue Gardens tract. That way there was little chance that anyone could see the neighborhood's former fat lady being bicycled home by a handsome young man. Surely they were already making fun of her for putting on shorts and a halter and riding a ten-speed bike every day, but they'd howl with laughter if they saw her now. They wouldn't laugh so much if they knew what she was thinking, however, or if they knew how her mouth was watering for the sweet lips and the overheated flesh of this boy who had helped her. Her husband would be shocked half to death if she gave Kenny a kiss for helping her, and she crazily wanted to give him much more than a kiss.
She wanted to take off all her clothes and roll naked in the grass with him. She felt like loving him up all over, and never stopping. She wanted to kiss every part of his body, even including his prick. She wanted to feel that prick between her big tits, and have him stick it and rub it and jam it in that hole between her legs that had been itching so persistently since she'd started the diet.
What she should do was to get off the diet and be content with her dumb old existence with her dumb old husband Henry, but she'd lost sixty-two j pounds already, and she wasn't about to quit the diet. And furthermore, she absolutely adored the craziness it had brought to her and the wild, lustful urges she now knew for the first time in her life.
"Wheeeeee!" Helen said as he braked to a I halt by her back gate. "We made it, Kenny!"
"I thought I was going to crash us out there," he said, beaming proudly into her maturely lovely face as she slid off his crossbar. She reminded him of some movie star he'd seen on TV, but he couldn't think of which one. He could hardly think of anything at all as she stood there smiling gratefully at him with her beautiful big womanly hip so close to his pecker that it was all stiff and aching like it was each morning when he woke up. Even the touch of her hand on his cheek was dizzying, and when she let her hand fall to his shoulder he could feel hot gooseflesh crawling all over his body.
Helen could hardly keep her hands off him, but she could manage to keep a facade of calm courtesy in her smile at this Adonis in frayed denim cutoffs. She wanted to absolutely devour him, starting with his Cupid's bow lips, saving his pure young cock for dessert. She'd never tasted a penis in her life, and now she was thinking about devouring this boy's penis. What would Henry think of that? And how would her wise friend Alicia react to such a confession? That didn't matter. What mattered was that she somehow extend this giddy time of girlish excitement in any way that was necessary.
"Kenny," she cooed, fondling the nape of his sweating neck. "I just don't know how I can ever thank you for taking me home. It's such a hot day I know I'd have died of sunstroke if I'd tried to walk back from the park. Won't you come inside for a nice cold glass of lemonade, dear? My husband's still at work, and we can relax and talk for a little bit. Come on in, Kenny. You've earned a glass of lemonade and much more."
He couldn't take his eyes off her as he propped up his bicycle. What did she mean by much more? Gee, but she was beautiful standing by the tall wooden fence in the alley, nonchalantly fluffing out her glossy golden hair. He'd seen her waddling around the neighborhood before in one of those big Hawaiian muu-muu dresses, and he'd thought the only pretty thing about her was her hair and maybe her face, but then he'd never realized how stacked she was under the tentlike dress. Just looking at her made his prick ache with its stiffness, and made him ache with the need to try to hide the terribly embarrassing lump in his cutoffs.
"Coming, Kenny?" she said, holding the gate wide, smiling right through his eyes.
She stopped in the middle of the yard and let him bump into her. She twined her fingers in his and held him thrillingly close beside her as she pointed and said, "Aren't those pink roses pretty? They're just the color of your lips." Actually they were just the color of his prick. She could see it through his pants in her mind's eye, all swollen up with his pulsing young blood, getting wet on the end and wondering what in the world was happening to it. She could smell it and she could almost taste it in her craziness, and if she didn't get him into the house soon she'd rape him right there under the blazing sun.
Kenny didn't even look at the roses. He looked right at her tits. He couldn't help himself for being rude when she was this close. There was an awful lot to see, and he had to see it while he could. Her halter tied around her neck and around her waist, forming a double hammock for her big, heavy breasts. It was lime green and just barely big enough to support those two big jugs. Except for the ends of I them, her titties were shaped like teardrops, but ten I thousand times bigger. The great big bumps of her nipples very excitingly altered their smooth, smooth roundness, pushing out the thin green fabric just like his itching pecker was pushing out his jeans. The double hammock of the halter was so widely separated that there was plenty of room for him to quickly dart his hand inside and squeeze a tit. Should he try?
Helen artfully gave the boy a better look at her tits by adjusting the halter strap before leading him on into her lair. She had no idea what she was going to do with him inside, but she simply had to be alone with him. He was anything but the suave, rich, debonair lover she dreamed about marrying when she'd be able to divorce old Henry. Oh no, Kenny I was far more exciting than that because he was so young, and seemed innocent and interested, and because he was there, right behind her, firmly in her tow.
Despite the small rolls of woman flab at her waist, even her back was sexy-looking. It was so broad and strong-looking, such a beautiful pinkish white, and it was so very very naked. Her dazzling golden hair bobbed and bounced around her soft, thick shoulders and perhaps was the secret source of tha muskily penetrating perfume she was wearing. Kenny had never' smelled anything like it. Even lagging back for a good view of her heavily but gracefully swaying hips, her scent was just about knocking him out. Dry as he was, the smell of her made his mouth water and his blood race and his prick ache so sweetly he could hardly stand it.
Kenny brushed close beside her into the coolness of her house. She bade him sit down at the kitchen table while she made the lemonade, and he managed to adjust his stiff prick in his cutoffs without her seeing this embarrassment before sitting down. Then he closely watched every movement of this unbelievably kind and beautiful woman whom he'd hardly noticed before but who lived right there in the same neighborhood with him. It was just awful of him to stare like that, but he couldn't help it. He'd once heard a boy say, "I'd eat a mile of her shit just to see where it came from," and at that moment Kenny knew just how that boy had felt.
Helen gave him a good big look at her ass as she bent over in front of the open refrigerator. She gave him a fine profile view of her tits as she stood by the sink and chased down a diet pill with water before she started on the lemonade. No one had looked at her like this for years, and she was enjoying it far more than she ever had before in her life. She was still too fat, but this youngster didn't care about that. She had him fascinated, spellbound by her bulky beauty, and the feeling was so thrilling that she had to show him more, much more. What did it matter if she let him look at her? He was such a nice boy that he surely wouldn't tell anyone, and even if he did, who would believe him?
"I hope it's sweet enough for you," she said as she placed the glass before him. She stirred through the ice cubes with her finger, and she looked right into his appealing brown eyes as she smiled and sucked that finger. He turned to watch her as she took her glass to the air-conditioner in the window, and there she gave him a closer look at her bottom as she bent over and fiddled with the knobs. She further aroused herself by thinking about him bent over like that, stark naked with his plump little asscheeks on display, then turning and grinning bashfully as he showed her his proud young prick, so stiff and straight and rosy, so hungry for her touch.
Turning to face him, his face was slack and his eyes were nervously trying not to rove over her body. She drank and set the glass down and stretched in front of the air-conditioner, and its chilled air blowing over her bottom didn't cool down her hot wet twat by even one degree. His nostrils were flaring and she hoped she didn't smell so bad as to drive him away from her now. She was ready to take bold measures to keep him there, even indiscreet ones if it meant extending the wild, wild feelings that seethed through her voluptuous body.
"I was so hot out there I'm still sweating," she said, and touched the flesh of her thighs and sides that Kenny's hands were itching to touch. "My shorts are just wringing wet," she went on, and both his hands clenched tightly when one of hers moved down over the soft bulge of her belly to cup and squeeze that big wide mound that led down between her legs. "I could use about a gallon of deodorant about now. Do I smell just awful to you?"
"Like perfume," he said, and his voice cracked and squeaked at just the wrong time. He flushed beet-red and gulped his lemonade. "I better get going," he said, for it was imperative that he rush home and rub his aching cock for two solid hours while he went over in his mind every detail of this fantastic afternoon which he was so methodically ruining.
"Finish your lemonade first," said Helen, smiling through her panic that he might leave her now, and in desperation she reached behind her to untie the waist strap of her halter.
"That feels much better," she said, using the open halter to flap a little air against her big hot tits. "Hope you don't mind," she said, gloating and exulting as he leaned back in his chair again and gazed right straight at her thinly veiled tits. It was awful to tease the boy this way, but it was wildly exciting. It was so very unfair of her to place him under her control by showing him a little more and a little more of her body, but damn, it was a million times more thrilling than anything she'd ever known with Henry. And Helen was richly deserving of some wildly thrilling times.
"I'll refill your glass," she said, and let the halter hang loose as she brought the pitcher to the table and poured for him. Her knee was touching his leg, and his glazed eyes were staring straight at the tit twelve inches in front of his face.
"It's really hot today," she said, and frankly felt of her feverish pussy mound again before stirring his drink with her finger. His hand lay limp in his lap, covering what had to be the most beautiful pony prick in the whole world. Thanks to her diet, she was stunning him with her beauty. She was tempted to kill him with it, but life was what she was after, not death. And beneath his hypnotized exterior, there was a great deal of vibrant young life to be had.
She took his chin in her hand, bent at the waist, and made him look up into her eyes and her smile. "What's the matter, Kenny? Are you so shook up at being alone with a woman that you've forgotten how to smile? Don't worry, my husband won't be home for hours."
"Uh, okay, Mrs. Hornaday," he mumbled.
"Smile, honey. Don't feel embarrassed being alone with me. And don't be afraid to look at me if you want. I know young men your age are curious about women, and it doesn't embarrass me a bit to have you look at me like that. In fact, I sort of like it."
"Y-you do?" he asked, incredulous.
You'll never know how much I'm getting to like it, Helen said to herself, and took the big exciting step of standing back from him and giving him a good clear view of her as she pulled the halter off over her head and tossed it aside.