Chapter 2
Several days had passed since Darlene's encounter with Dean in her swimming class. She had let her self-control slip just long enough to possibly expose herself to all those boys. She had managed somehow to regain her composure and carry the lesson off without letting her sexual instincts get the better of her that day. She still wondered, however, what young Dean had thought of her actions. She still remembered the frightened look on the thirteen-year-old boy's handsome young face when she dipped her warm fingers beneath his trunks and touched his smooth lower belly for a second or two. And she still remembered the warmth of his young body, remembered it so clearly, still felt it so deeply that her cunt stirred every time she thought of him.
Darlene sat by the phone in her bedroom thinking about the boy and wishing he was with her that very minute. Dean was so like her own three boys in his warmth and smoothness, so like her own three boys in his apparent innocence, and so like her own three boys in his quicknes to stiffen between his legs at the slightest provocations.
Darlene had noticed, hadn't been able to help noticing, that all three of her sons were troubled with embarrassing erections from time to time. She had always managed to look away and pretend that she hadn't seen the stiff little bulges that grew down their pants legs occasionally or jutted out beneath the towels they wore around their lean waists after their showers. She had always wanted to stare at the hard dicks her sons often wore so nervously. But staring between her sons' legs was something a mother dared not do, and she had forced herself to follow the moral code, at least in practice, even though her mind rebelled.
Darlene's cunny was dripping with sexual passion at the moment. She was wearing only her panties, having just come from a nice warm shower. The boys were all out doing whatever they usually did on summer mornings, and she was all by herself. Her panties were damp with the free-flowing juices of her passion. She touched her delicate ringers to the damp crotch of her thin little garment and pushed her quivering hot cunt-lips, making herself shiver deep in her belly. She began slowly stroking herself there, barely touching the blazing lips of her excited cunt.
Darlene threw One of her long lovely legs over the arm of the chair in which she sat and pulled the material away from her juicy twat, exposing herself and burying her fingers between her spread legs. Her gaping gash was creamy pink and as hot as an oven. She spread the lips of her slippery gash and tossed her long, honey-hued hair behind her, giving herself up to the power of her womanly sexuality. She began pinching her glowing hot clitoris, driving herself wilder and wilder by the second.
Her imagination was filled with the most deliciously depraved sexual images, images of her three boys in various states of undress, images of the three young kids strutting around her with their stiff teenage dicks sticking out in front of their lean young bodies. She tried to image how their dicks would look in their sexually aroused states. Her mind was filled with her boys and the lust they unwittingly inspired in her. She could stand the tension no longer. She had to have a boy, perhaps not one of her sons but a boy nonetheless. She had to do whatever was necessary to procure herself such a boy, no matter how dangerous her acts might be.
Her musky twat tingling and surging with wild passion she picked up the receiver of her phone and rubbed the shiny black knob of it against her slit for a second or two. Then she dialed a number from her list of swimming class students, not certain even yet of what she would say to whoever answered. She had to arrange something, had to give herself the opportunity to ravish one of her boys, had to taste the deliciously nasty joys of sex with a young man whose embrace she could trust, had to see once and for all whether or not her horny imagination accurately reflected her inner sexual desires for innocent children. Her heart raced wildly as she waited for someone to answer at the March house. She was relieved somewhat when a young voice answered.
"Hello, is this Dean March?" she asked nervously, still trying to control herself. "Hello Dean. This is Mrs. Miller, your swimming instructor," she continued, forcing herself to remain cool and collected now, afraid to let down her protective facade of self-composure. "Dean? Are you there, Dean?" she smiled sweetly.
"Uh ... yeah. I'm here, I guess...." the boy said weakly.
"What's the matter, Dean? You sound upset. Surely you're not feeling badly! A strong young man like you?" she smiled.
"No, uh, I feel okay, I guess," the nervous boy replied, obviously expecting to hear anybody's voice other than his sexy swimming instructor.
"Excellent, Dean! I was thinking over your progress in the swimming class and I've come to the conclusion that you could use some private instruction. You have potential, Dean. I'm surprised that your father hasn't taught you how to swim already. You might excel in that sport, Dean."
"Dad's sorta busy I guess," the boy said.
"Do you think you'd like some private lessons, dear?" she asked, her voice deep and alluring.
"'Dear'? 'Private lessons'? I...." the boy stuttered.
Darlene loved the sound of his voice over the telephone. She could almost see the boy's adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tried to swallow nervously. She could almost see the rosy glow of a blush coming over his slightly freckled young face. She knew that she was about to trap him, if only she could control herself that long. She knew that the poor defenseless boy still remembered the incident in the swimming pool at school. She knew that he still felt her eager fingers descending over the front of his body and dipping blindly between his shivering young flesh and the waistband of his wet tight trunks. She knew that the experience was one that he wasn't likely to soon forget. And she knew that Dean was reliving the experience now even as she talked to him in a way that could only excite the innocent young boy.
"Of course, Dean darling, private lessons. Is there something wrong with private lessons?" she teased. "You really must develop your full potential. You're already such a strong swimmer, darling! It shouldn't be too hard for you to learn a few new strokes."
"Gosh, Mrs. Miller! I ... I dunno! Private lessons!" the boy whined.
"Are you busy this afternoon, darling?" she cooed.
"Gosh! This afternoon! Busy? No, I, no...." the boy stumbled.
Darlene reached down between her lovely spread legs again and began manipulating the sweet lips of her fragrant pussy, wildly excited by the nervous stammering of the young boy's voice.
"If you're not busy why don't you drop by my house at about one o'clock this afternoon? But I don't think we should do our swimming at the gymnasium this time, darling. I think we should take advantage of the fresh air and the sun. The outdoors does wonders for one's swimming form, darling. Do you know of a nice isolated place, a place where we can concentrate on our ... technique ... without worrying about intruders?" Darlene asked sexily, knowing perfectly well that she was frightening the boy out of his wits.
"Just bare...." the boy gasped, holding back his words at the last minute.
"What was that, Dean?" the horny older woman said, intrigued by the tone of the kid's quavering voice.
"Nothing. Nothing, really!" he hurried to reply.
"Come now, Dean. Just bare? What does that mean?" She smiled, her fingers working inside her juice snatch.
"Just bare-ass bend," young Dean forced himself to say, his voice dry as cotton.
"Bare-ass bend? My goodness!" She laughed. "Such language! I should tell your father! Bare-ass bend indeed!"
"Jeez, Mrs. Miller, I'm sorry! I didn't mean nothin'! Honest to God! Don't tell Dad! He'd kill me!" the boy begged.
"Control yourself, Dean darling! I wouldn't tell on you for anything, dear! You're one of my star pupils! And besides, I have boys of my own, and I know how nasty words slip out sometimes. But where is this 'bare-ass bend'? It might be just the place to practice our swimming." Darlene said, her cunt blazing with taboo passion for the young boy.
"Gosh Mrs. Williams! Do you really mean it?" he asked, his voice shaking as much as his body was.
"Certainly, Dean! I'm quite serious," she said, sparks flying in her twat.
"It's a place in the river way out by Wexler's pond. The guys go there sometimes for a swim. It's a long hike," the boy explained.
"But is it isolated?" she smiled.
"Sure it is," Dean whispered. "But why...."
"Be at my house at one o'clock this afternoon, darling. And bring your trunks," Darlene whispered seductively. "Bring them. Don't wear them." she added quickly, hanging up the receiver before the boy had a chance to reply.
Darlene sighed and felt relieved at last, relieved that the ordeal of the first approach was over and relieved, too, that she had the strength of will to go through with her dirty little plan of seduction. She resisted the powerful urge to diddle her hot seething cunt until she flashed wildly inside, resisted the urge for the sake of the incredibly exciting experience that loomed before her with the handsome and totally innocent young boy. It would be an afternoon to remember.
She managed to get dressed somehow without dipping her fingers between her legs again and getting too deeply involved with her self-manipulations. Perhaps now she would have something to do besides playing with her everactive pussy when she needed relief. The thought of her upcoming experience with thirteen-year-old Dean made her twat run with passion. She felt lightheaded with excitement. She really didn't know what she would do when she got the boy where she wanted him, having acted in the mind-boggling heat of her lust. But she knew that whatever she did with the boy would be taboo, so taboo that she grew more and more excited by the minute.
She was about to ravish a boy young enough to be her son, about to engage him in activities that were not only illegal but also against all the moral codes that the people of Taggert, Illinois, held inviolate. And the sense of danger that filled her now thrilled her as nothing in her life ever had. Whenever she thought about Dean her mind flashed with thoughts of her own three sons as young, innocent sex-pupils. There was no telling where her activities with Dean might lead.
Rod, Micky, and Bobby were home for lunch and gone again in a flash. Darlene couldn't help wondering if her three always alert young boys had noticed anything odd in her behavior that afternoon. She had caught herself staring between Rod's young legs at least once while he was leaning up against the kitchen counter nibbling on a hastily prepared sandwich. She wanted desperately to catch a glimpse of Rod's sex equipment as it was bunched together between his legs beneath his tight pants.
Darlene hadn't seen any of the boys naked in a long time, having forced herself to refrain from looking at them, knowing her state of mind in recent months. Her mind was filled now with anticipation of her soon-to-come confrontation with a thirteen-year-old boy who had to know that something unusual was in store for him. She found it terribly difficult to control herself now even in the presence of the three boys she had raised, even in the presence of the fruit of her womb, even in the presence of the three innocent young boys who could have no idea that her cunt blazed for them. She could only hope that they took no notice of her that afternoon.
By the time of her appointment with young Dean, Darlene was trembling all over in the heat of her sexual excitement. She hadn't felt so alive in years. It was as if an adventure awaited her, an adventure that would fill her boring small town life with an excitement that she had never thought possible. She tried to imagine how thirteen-year-old Dean felt about calling on Mrs. Miller under such strange and confusing circumstances. The more she thought about his possible reaction to her sexual onslaught the more she realized that she would have to go slowly with him, would have to reveal bit by bit the secrets of sexual pleasure. She had to be careful not to frighten him away.
Darlene knew perfectly well that Dean was a likely subject for her first encounter with a young boy. He was big for his age and well developed sexually, which she was able to gather easily enough, having spent many pleasant and cunt-tingling moments in her swimming class eyeing his swollen young crotch and imagining the joys his nice little prong could bring her. She knew, too, that Dean was sexually responsive, knew how quickly his young organ had stiffened in his trunks when she had given in to the urge to stroke his tender young body. She knew that the boy was the perfect subject for her onslaught. She also knew that if she was unable to bring her little plan off this time she might never have the courage to try it again.
The things she was about to do with Dean were taboo and even "depraved" in the eyes of her peers. And yet they seemed to her at the moment the most deliciously tempting acts imaginable. She had, after all, no intention of doing the boy any harm. She only wanted to teach him some of the many things a young man had to learn about fucking eventually and would learn no matter what restrictions the boy's parents tried to put on his activities. She knew how hard-nosed Dan and Wendy March were about sex, politics, religion, and everything else for which the town of Taggert had set definite standards of thought and conduct. She wondered how long it would take Dean to break free of the bonds of hypocritical morality if she didn't help loosen the shackles a bit. It was a momentous undertaking and one in which she was beginning to take some pride. And besides, the seething pit of passion between her legs was dying for a hard young penis and an eager young tongue.
When Darlene heard the doorbell she jumped up and ran to the door, stopping before it and taking a few deep breaths, trying to control herself, knowing that she had to remain calm at all times. If she let her self-control slip for even a minute the boy would detect her fear and realize that she was as afraid of what might happen in the next few minutes as he was.
"Come in, Dean!" she said cheerfully, her heart racing in spite of herself. "Are you ready for your lessons?"
"I guess," the boy said weakly.
"Could you direct me to this place in the river? We can take my car, dear. It's better than hiking I believe," she smiled.
"Gosh, Mrs. Miller, do you really mean it?" the boy gasped, his arms at his sides, holding a rolled up towel tightly in his hand.
"Of course, darling!" she smiled. "Did you bring your trunks?"
Darlene's eyes twinkled with excitement as she watched the boy nod nervously in reply to her question.
"You mustn't be so nervous, darling. What are you afraid of? Nervousness isn't good for a swimmer, Dean. It makes your muscles all tight and stiff. You really must relax." she smiled, brushing past the boy and leading him to her car. "You seem to be afraid of something! What on earth do you think is going to happen to you at this "bare-ass Bend," anyway?" she smiled.
"I ... I'm not scared ... really Mrs. Miller. It's just that, ... the way you touched me last week ... I...." the boy struggled, his voice as dry as cotton.
"Why don't we forget about that, for the moment at any rate?" Darlene said. "I think we should concentrate on your lessons. I'm going to teach you some strokes today that you'll never forget, darling boy."
Darlene heard the frightened kid swallow nervously. The rest of the trip was made in silence broken only by the boy's nervously whispered directions. Darlene let her dress get rucked up until her naked honey-tanned legs were exposed well above her knees. She wondered if the boy was trying hard not to look down between her legs.
"It's down that road," Dean said shakily.
"I don't even know if I can get this big car down this dusty lane, Dean." the horny woman replied, the low hanging branches of numerous trees brushing against the car windows. "I suppose we'll make it. How far is it now?"
"'bout a mile. Then we'll have to walk over a field to get down by the river," the boy said, looking away from Darlene.
"I hope you're worth all this trouble, Dean," Darlene said. "You learn pretty fast, dear, at least you have in the silly swimming class. I hope you can learn these special strokes as easily."
There was something strange in the tone of Mrs. Miller's voice. She sounded so sweet and comforting and at the same time so mysterious and confusing. It was as if everything she said meant something else entirely. The way she talked about those special strokes made young Dean's stomach flutter. She was so pretty and so close to him. And after the way she touched him during the swimming class he couldn't help wondering what she was going to do to him down by the river. Dean hadn't had any contact with girls yet, at least not with any real sexual intent, although he had done the usual exploring with the neighborhood girls who would let him. But Mrs. Miller was thirty-five years old, not twelve or thirteen! The way she had touched him was unlike anything he had ever felt or even imagined before. Just thinking about her made his little dick get stiff. He tried to control his young meat-stick, but to no avail.
Stopping the car at the edge of a grassy meadow, Darlene smiled at her young captive and slid out of the car, ready now for anything her horny imagination might dream up. She had to have the young boy, had to feel his lean young body next to hers, had to feel his innocence, had to use her powerfully affecting womanly seductive powers to draw him to her.
The nervous boy sat in the car until she called him out. She leaned in through the car window and looked at the boy's boyishly handsome face, patiently waiting for him to slide out and join her. He was afraid to look in her direction. She noticed soon enough what was bothering him. She glanced down between his legs and saw that he had covered his crotch with the rolled up towel that contained his trunks. So he had a hard-on already! His embarrassment was unmistakable. She had seen that same look on her own three boys' faces from time to time. She was having the desired effect on the lad, if only she could coax him out of the car.
"Come on, Dean, you can't learn your lessons in the car," Darlene smiled, trying to see the boy's stiff pintle. "Are you hiding something, darling?"
"Gosh no!" the young lad gasped, turning away from the lovely older woman, his knees banging up against the car door.
"Get out of the car then, Dean. I'm awfully eager to get into the water. It's getting terribly hot already. Are you as hot as I am, dear?" she asked, her voice like honey.
Darlene heard the car door open and knew that she had him in her power.
"Is it over this hill?" she asked, having the decency not to look down at the kid's bulging young crotch.
"Uh-huh," the thirteen-year-old boy said weakly.
"I can hardly wait! It's been years since I swam this way!" Darlene said, feeling the freshness of the out-of-doors getting inside her.
The hot-assed woman started up the hill, followed hesitantly by the hard-dicked young boy. She felt her full ass performing a careful cultivated wiggle. She hadn't bothered to wear anything under the light summer dress that barely concealed her considerable feminine charms. She knew that the bright summer sun was shining through her thin garment, revealing the lush curves that were likely to drive the boy wild. She felt his eyes roving the cheeks of her ass and the long flowing beauty of her nearly naked legs. She felt a steady light breeze fluttering over the legs as she walked, felt her long hair flowing behind her. She knew that the boy could never resist her lusty, free-flowing charms.
"Is that the place?" Darlene asked, standing at the top of the grassy hill and looking down at a clear shimmering bend in the river.
Darlene turned around and faced the boy, who stood several yards away from her. She saw him jerk his head away from her, as if he had been caught staring at something he wasn't supposed to see.
"I can hardly wait to get in that water! You?" she asked, forcing the nervous boy to look in her direction again.
"Yeah," he said painfully.
Darlene turned and ran down the hill, laughing happily and dying to enfold her boy in her womanly embrace. He followed her, his eyes glittering, his stiff thirteen-year-old penis jerking in his pants. He tried to hide the thing behind his rolled up towel. He knew perfectly well that she would see it eventually, if she hadn't already. His embarrassment was excruciating. He had to get into his trunks eventually, if she really intended to teach him those new strokes she was always mentioning. He had wondered why she had told him to bring his trunks instead of wearing them under his pants the way he usually did. He had always done his swimming at bare-ass naked with the other guys. Surely she couldn't expect him to change while she was watching. And surely she didn't intend to swim naked.
Dean thought his heart would stop when he suddenly realized that she didn't have a bathing suit with her. She didn't have a bathing suit on underneath her dress, either, he could see that easily enough. In fact he could even see the tuft of hair that showed between her legs as she had walked up the hill against the sun. If she didn't have a bathing suit with her and she didn't have one on under her dress what on earth was she going to wear? Surely she wasn't going to swim naked like the guys always did! Just the thought of it made him dizzy. He had never seen a woman naked before, not even his mother. Surely she wasn't going to take her dress off and let him see her tits and cunt!
"The water looks delicious, Dean darling. Why don't you change into your trunks?" she smiled, breathing in the free summer air of the country.
"But where?" the boy managed to say between shallow breaths.
"Right here, Dean!" Darlene said, authority in her voice. "Don't be silly! I have three boys of my own you know. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Go ahead. We don't have all day you know!"
"But I can't! I ... I can't! Not in front of you!" the boy blurted.
"Silly boy! Don't you take your pants off in front of your mother?" she asked, teasing the boy and enjoying every minute of it.
"Gosh no! Not any more! I'm too old for that!" the boy said, amazed that the woman would think such a thing.
"Nonsense! You're just the right age for that. Are you a sissy or something?" she smiled.
"I'm not. But gosh, Mrs. Miller. I got...." the boy nearly cried in his terrible confusion and embarrassment.
"Take your shirt off, Dean!" the luscious woman ordered.
There was no disobeying her. Her power was far too great. The defenseless young boy felt like a puppet on a string now. He had to drop his towel in order to take his shirt off. When he let it fall in the grass he knew that she could see his stiff young prick sticking down his leg a little way. He turned his back to her and started to pull his T-shirt over his head.
Darlene watched hungrily as the frightened boy took off his white T-shirt, watched his slender back come into view. She had never dared stare at her own boys that way, even though she had wanted to desperately for a long time. The summer sun streamed down on the boy's lightly tanned skin, highlighting the smooth muscles of his young shoulders. His was thin and she could see the definition of his backbone. She longed to run her delicate fingers up and down his back, longed to feel his naked boy's body next to her. When he had taken off his shirt he stood there motionless, holding the T-shirt at this side.
"Well, darling, aren't you going to change into your trunks?" she smiled, teasing the boy terribly and feeling deliciously wicked about it.
The cowering boy started to walk toward a grove of trees.
"No, Dean dear, right where you are. I want to watch you take your pants off!" Darlene hissed. "That's right, darling, I'm going to watch you take your pants off. Doesn't that make you excited?"
"Jesus Christ, Mrs. Miller! You can't! It's not right! I mean, it's not right for a guy to do that in front of a woman! That's what Mom and Dad always said!" the poor frightened boy said, looking back over his shoulder at the woman.
Darlene saw tears in the poor boy's eyes. Although her heart went out to him in his terribly embarrassing situation she was still relentless in her pursuit of the boy.
"That may very well be, Dean darling, but you're under my instruction now. Do as I say. I promise you that you'll enjoy yourself once you get into the swim of things," she smiled. "Take off your pants."
Darlene watched, her eyes blazing with lust, as the boy unbuckled his pants and tugged down his zipper. His body shook a bit in his intense fear. She knew how he had to feel, denuding himself in the open while a woman old enough to be his mother drank it all in thirstily. She watched as he pushed his tight Levi's down over his lean young hairless legs. She laughed inside as he tried desperately to get his pants legs over his shoes, tripping over himself and nearly falling down several times. When he had finally managed to tug his tight pants off and drop them on the ground he stood cowering, still with his back to his teacher, wearing only his white underpants and his shoes and socks. He reached down nervously to grab his trunks.
"No, Dean, you can't wear your trunks over your underpants. That's silly! There's no need for it. Take your briefs off, too, dear. I want to see your nice little butt. You don't mind do you?"
Darlene asked, moving closer to the boy.
"Oh shit, Mrs. Miller! Don't make me do that! Please!" the boy cried.
"You must!" she breathed seductively, stopping only a few feet away from the trembling young kid.
Unable to resist her every command thirteen-year-old Dean bent over a bit and pushed down his tight white briefs. Darlene almost lost control of herself completely when she beheld the young kid's naked asscheeks. She wanted to reach out and touch the firm flesh of the boy's divided buttocks, wanted to kiss him there, wanted to bury her cheeks against his quivering lean butt-flesh. She wanted to see her boy from the front too but he stubbornly refused to face her.
"Why don't you take your shoes off first, dear?" she said quickly just as Dean reached down to grab his trunks in a desperate effort to cover himself. "In fact, Dean, I have an even better idea! Why don't I help you off with your shoes?"
"Oh Jesus, Mrs. Miller! No! I can't!" he sobbed.
"Nonsense!" Darlene said, walking close to him. "Sit on that log and let me take off your shoes for you. You mustn't wear yourself out you know. We have a lot of work to do today. Your form needs some polishing," she smiled sexily.
With a deep sigh Dean sat down on the log as he was directed, turning around and facing his teacher at the same time. Darlene couldn't hide her excitement when she saw the boy's stiff young prick sticking up between his hairless legs. His groin was sprinkled with the lightest growth of downy hair. His hairless smooth-looking young testicles were tightly gathered between his legs by his constricted scrotal sac. She stared down at the kid's cock and balls hungrily. It was the first time in years that she had seen a boy naked. And it was the first time she had ever seen a boy's hard dick jerking between his legs.
Dean trembled uncontrollably as the beautiful Mrs. Miller fell to her knees before him and began running her warm silken hands up and down his naked shivering young legs. He was afraid to look at her. His thirteen-year-old penis was as hard as steel and dripping pre-seminal fluid by the gallon, just the way it always did when he got hard that way. Whenever that had happened in the past he had always done what his brother showed him and beat his meat until his sperm shot out all over the place. But he surely couldn't do that now, not with Mrs. Miller kneeling there between his legs.
Darlene thought the boy looked incredibly sweet and innocent sitting there obviously terrified, his teenage penis arching up from his groin, his sunlit flesh quivering with nervous excitement. She could actually see his muscles jerking beneath his tight skin whenever she touched him. Not wanting to make the experience too terrifying for the boy, Darlene took her hands away from his naked legs and untied his shoes for him. The boy put his hands over his lap in a vain attempt to hide the young penis that was jerking so wildly between his legs.
"I just remembered something, Dean." Darlene smiled. "I forgot my bathing suit! Isn't that terribly silly of me? Of course the air is so beautiful and that water looks so nice I might just swim in my birthday suit." she said. "What is this place called again?"
"Bare ... bare-ass bend," the kid gasped.
"Bare ass it is then!" Darlene said, pulling her light frock over her head.
"Oh Christ, no!" Dean gasped, hiding his eyes with his hands.
"Don't be silly, darling! You're getting to be a big boy now. You have to learn to enjoy such things as this. Haven't you ever seen a woman naked before? Come now, darling, tell Mrs. Miller the truth," the naked woman said, standing before the boy wearing only her shoes, her hands at her sides, her full luscious breasts out-thrust and incredibly beautiful.
"G ... gosh no! I've never seen a woman naked!
I don't believe this!" the trembling boy sobbed, holding his legs together, trying still to hide his embarrassment.
"Do you like my breasts?" she smiled seductively, lifting her beautiful tits and offering them to the naked boy with the wantonness of a bitch in heat. "Aren't they lovely?" Wouldn't you like to feel them? Wouldn't you like to suck my tits?"
"I can't! I can't do that! Please Mrs. Miller! Please don't!" the poor wildly excited boy cried.
Darlene moved closer to her prey. She beckoned for the boy to stand up. He obeyed shakily, standing slowly and staring uncontrollably at Mrs. Miller's bulging breasts, his early teen-age penis jerking up against her lower stomach. Darlene's tits were incredibly beautiful, and she knew it, felt it deep within her. The sun tingled on her naked skin, bringing her flesh a kind of life and freshness that she had almost forgotten, it had been so long since she had been outdoors in the nude. Her goose-pimpled aureoles tingled and began to stiffen, standing out at the ends of her tit-pillows in hard little peaks that were light brownish in contrast to her delicately hued breasts.
Sexily she smoothed her hands down her sides over the swelling of her hips. She framed the light brown hair of her furry cunt with her thumbs and forefingers, giving the boy an unavoidable view of the part of her that no boy of thirteen had ever seen. The kid's glittering eyes roved over her nakedness as if they had a will of their own, unshackled by his inner fear and the trembling of his young body. Darlene knew that the boy's natural curiosity was bound to get the better of him, was bound to take over from his fear and drive him beyond the bounds of what society said was the proper relationship between a woman of thirty-five and a mere child of thirteen.
"Something tells me you like what you see," Darlene breathed. "Perhaps you'd like some lessons in something nicer than swimming."
"Mrs. Miller! No! Jesus Christ!" the kid begged, hoping she would just go away without forcing him to do the things he really wanted to do with her but could not bring himself to do.
"You're afraid, aren't you, Dean darling?" she whispered lovingly. "I can fix that easily enough. There's really nothing to be afraid of. Come to Darlene. Forget all those silly things your parents told you about sex, dear. Come and enjoy yourself. I'll teach you everything you need to know. Just relax. It'll all come quite naturally. We'll both come quite naturally. Wouldn't you like to suck my breasts and lick my pussy? Wouldn't you like to put your dick up between my legs? Haven't you seen dirty pictures of that? Most boys have these days, Dean. Of course, darling boy. Come to Darlene. That's my little man." she said reassuringly.
Dean knew that he was done for now. There was nothing he could do now but let her suck him into the whirlpool of lust. She was so big and beautiful, so rich and flowing with soft womanly beauty! She even smelled beautiful! He felt himself being drawn toward her, felt himself walking toward her slowly at first then breaking into a run toward her. He was very concious of the rock-hard little pole of sex-flesh that stuck up between his legs obscenely, but he ran toward her, anyway.
"Yes, Dean darling, this will be lovely!" Darlene sighed as the boy buried his face in her cleavage.