Chapter 4
Back-Door Boy
"I took a job baby-sitting for the B-s since it seemed to be a good place for me to hit the books-you know, for school and all. But the way everything turned out, or maybe around would be more like it, I ended up being the baby while this chick who lives next door to the B-s made herself into the sitter. Way it ended up was something I never learned in schoolbooks, and that's no shit. She turned me every way but out to the alley cats. And after the whole thing came back up the shitter, I was doing the baby-sitting. And it ain't for no kids.
"Maybe you'd like to be filled in.
"Marge did-she's the lady next door to the B-s. Lots of the guys from school used to hang around and cut her grass a lot-and just sorta stare at her. They TOLD me about it, but I didn't know what they were talking about. 'Who?' I'd say and they'd just give me those funny looks they used to give me, maybe laugh or some shit like that. Only it's not like that anymore. 'Cause when I finally ran into Marge, I ended up getting to do the things with her that those guys only dreamed about.
"'Oh, FUCK ME, baby-give it to me in the ass real good! Oh yes, YESSSSSSS!' I can still hear her giving me all that encouragement. You see, first she had to show me how to treat a bitch-I didn't know my asshole from my elbow when I met her. But she taught me right, and it wasn't too long before I'd learned more about cunts at fourteen than most dudes know on their way to their graves. And assholes, too. You see, this bitch really dug getting her ass reamed clean. In fact, she liked her back door swung even better than the front.
"That was one of those trips I'd only really even HEARD about once before! Some jerky guy was rapping about some other guy he knew, which was probably just a lot of bullshit to start off with, who was supposed to have spent hours shoving his cock up into some chick's asshole. In fact, I only remembered two things about it, really. The guy was really built and he was supposed to have had all kinds of trouble getting his cock into her at the start. Oh, an' also, jerk-off tells us that his buddy used, dig it, toothpaste, to lubricate the hole to push his dong up inside her! After that, nobody ever talked much about it, too weird or something, I guess. Everybody at school thinks that if you talk about something that means you're really into that trip.
"At my school, the image of a right-on Dude is that he knows about everything, never talks about chicks he's balled, and just doesn't do ANYTHING that's strange or 'weird' when it comes to chicks. There are really a lot of shit simple right-on'ers, which is my own expression for them, in school, and they make it hard as hell to be anything else but just like them! I used to think that high school was going to be one big fuck scene like they hint at on TV and everything, but it's really more like straight city that doesn't understand its own publicity! Everybody looks like a freaky longhair and they nod a lot to each other, but most of them still carry square metal lunch-boxes and think that waterbeds are either perverted or have something to do with hard-core bed wetters or softcore wet dreams. It took a neighbor's wife to show me the core of sex, and it was just as hard as it was soft!
"This chick wasn't playing any games, I can tell you that! But she taught me one hell of a lesson! How to fuck like crazy one-night orgy in intercourse! I found out about everything there is to feel and touch and get your rocks off over! From assholes to exhaustion, that broad gave me the complete trip! There were a million trips that I would never have to worry about again! She sucked my dick, played with my balls, got her fingers up into my asshole and my cock up into hers, and I loved it!
"She showed me and I felt it! The hot and moist tightness of her cunt and what it felt like to have my cock shoved up inside of that hotness and that vibration! She was so good! She turned my prick into a faucet of come that spit and shot and loaded and reloaded until I almost went crazy with the passion and the excitement of fucking her! I had a childish imagination that fantasied sex and now I had become a man who could really do it and wouldn't have to wonder about what it felt like, ever again. That round ass that gyrated in circles against my stomach so that my prick would almost puncture through the fibers of her asshole, that GREAT ASS had made a boy into a man and turned my curiosity into concentrated lust! I can get horny now, for Marge's ass and every other ass that I see in a hallway or on a beach or anywhere!
"I can even imagine, almost what it would look like no matter who the chick is that I am freaking over. Shit ... I watched myself in the big picture mirror over the fake fireplace, and fucked my head as well as my cock that night! Talk about baby-sitting!
"I was going like a crazy man, up and down and back and forth at the same time, fucking my neighbor's wife in the ass the same way that dogs fuck, while I was looking after another one of my neighbors' kids! The gray light from the TV made a perfect reflection for the picture mirror, and the action on the couch beat the hell out of the action on the TV. A sudden flashing image from the side of my eye gave me the trip and when I looked around to the mirror I got the whole shot. Fucking right up the middle!
"I was so surprised at seeing myself that I almost stopped moving! But there was no way in the world to stop! All I could do was keep on fuckin'! I knew I was getting a complete view of myself as I got my rocks off, inside a broad for real, for the first time!
"We were kneeling on the couch together, and she was facing away from me so that I could jam my rod up her hot little butt hole. She was on her hands and knees in front of me and I was kind of on my knees behind her, plumbing the works like I was trying to ventilate her system with a big flesh plunger. While I banged it to her ass, I was keeping my balance by holding onto her dangling breasts, my arms wrapped under her in order to keep the treasures in hand. I had lost track of all the individual feelings and when I saw the couple in the mirror I suddenly felt everything all over again! And I was getting feels, ALL OVER!
"Her breasts were like flesh baskets that hold passion juices, and I could massage them, it seemed, to all of the places that needed the lubrication! Her rounded ass felt like inflated butter balls! They kept my pubic toast good and covered with sweat, the kind that kept our legs shoved together and our hips locked up, tight! Everywhere we touched, it was damp and hot! Our bodies were both covered with drops of sweat from the frantic fucking!
"I leaned my head down and rested it on her shoulder blades, so that I was looking right into that wide-screen sex show on the mirror, and watched the incredible balling that was jacking our bent together bodies back and forth with such frantic force! It looked like a naked game of leapfrog that was never going to get past the first jump but was having one hell of a launch! That great little ass of hers was rolling around and bouncing against me with all of the short-circuit energy of hell! And if hell could be sweet that's what it would feel like! I kept my bone crammed into the center-fold just as deep as I could get it!
"And man ... was I gettin' it! The inside of her ass was like a furnace that was forging my prick into a permanently erect spear, and doing it by the friction of skin against skin! All of it, every place we touched, seemed to be raw and exposed, almost as if we were actually getting rubbed to a shine, or something. I watched myself in the mirror while I moved my hands to the polished globes of her ass. For a second I paused, holding my hands just above the plump cheeks that were gyrating around in little circles. Shit, man, every time she went one turn around she bent that hard driver even harder in and against the soft ridges of violated flesh.
"Even though I only hesitated for an instant, my hands, as I could see them reflected in that far-out mirror, were not hands at all. They were spiders, dangling over prey. I learned a few numbers in that moment! And Marge was the teacher. Her eyes flashed onto mine and held tight, forcing me to watch her every facial expression, making me see all the different looks and degrees of her pleasure at the moment each occurred.
"And I kept them coming, you can damn well bet! Her classroom ass was getting the examination of its life! I'd give her a burst of deep, lunging strokes, the kind that rammed their way up as far into the pulsating channel as they could get!....
"It had started out like this. There was this rapping at the back door where I was sitting the kid. Wasn't the Avon Lady standing there pressing the button--just couldn't have been, she was too fuckin' young!
"There I was, face hanging out, looking at the idol of the grass-cutters! The neighborhood sex-pot, leaning back against that screen door like she was annoyed as hell at having to wait so long. She was wearing these really tight shorts with suspenders that hitched those shorts up even deeper into her terrific-looking ass! Chicks that can get your pants warmin' up a little by wearing hot pants never miss a chance! She had this thin little blouse between the suspenders and I could see the soft skin of her back right through the damn material!
"In fact, it was all corrugated into tiny little squares by the screening in the door. That was kinda far out, but it was nothin' compared to the shot that screen was doin' that rounded hot pants ass of hers! The material was pale yellow, almost white, and it was knitted yet! That ass looked like twin marshmallows trying to squeeze through every one of those little square openings! I had this crazy urge to slip up to the door and grab a flesh-mallow in each hand ... right through the strainer!
"She was looking up at the sky and tapping her foot to this little transistor radio she was holding. Each tap sent the rounded half-moons bouncing against the screen with new patterns and shapes. She casually turned her head and looked me right in the fuckin' eyes. It was a dead bust. Like lookin' up a chick's dress under the table and then lookin' up a little more to see that she's watchin' you the whole damn time! Happens to me in the library all the time! But this wasn't the school library and it wasn't just some chick! It was her game from that minute on, but I sure learned how to play!
"She smiled right at me and turned up the music in her hand, bouncing her bottom even harder against the screen and laughing at the look on my face.
"'Like 'em?' she asked, never letting my eyes lose a second and bouncing her bottom even harder!
"Like 'em!? Man, I loved them! Cutting grass could turn into a way of life!
"'The pants, I mean! I just bought them! Hey ... let me in, willya? I'm out of smokes and having a regular nicotine fit!'
"Like an idiot in a trance, I fumbled the latch three times, trying to flip it open with one finger. There was no way I was going to be cool. I decided to give up and just see what the hell was going to happen. That was the first smart thing I managed. She bounced into the kitchen like it was her own, got a fresh pack of cigarettes from the first drawer she opened, lit one off the stove, and never stopped talking the whole damn time. She had us past the introductions to Karl and Marge over the student-housewife hump, and into a whole number about her old man workin' nights lately and what a drag it was having to go out with the girls or look at TV alone. MAN, she was a regular one-woman conversation! In fact, she was a conversation piece! She just kind of swung around to the top-forty background, chattering away with small talk and letting that fabulous body give off with a little 'communication' language all it's own! Before I knew what the hell was happening, she had flipped down the screen-door latch, with ONE flip of HER finger naturally, teased me into having a beer with her, and settled into the living-room couch.
"I was like an audience for her. I couldn't take my eyes off of that sensational body of hers! I'd been practically playing hide-and-go-seek like a little boy, and not only with the strictly incredible peekaboo blouse that she was obviously braless under, but with this sensational woman creature next to me. Actually, with the TV jumping from channel to channel as if punctuating her words, and the little transistor fighting her for the rest of the sound, I didn't have to say much! I just kept watching those great thighs shifting together at the perfect intersection of her legs and feeling the softness of her breath as she talked. Then, suddenly, almost like a nice slap of surprise in the face, I heard her voice drop and distinctly whisper to me in completely intimate clarity.
"'I think YOU are beautiful, too, Karl. I want to play with you ... with all of you."
"Then her fingers did something to the front of her teasing blouse and it began to pull apart, as if the secret clasp she had touched had suddenly caused it to pull away from the straining breasts, sorta like wispy movie curtains. I knew I was in for the show of my life.
"The two peaks of firmness pushed their way out into the artificial television light of the room and I just sat there like a junior zombi or something. MAN! I mean I've never been so surprised!
"I'd looked at Marge a few times myself, walking home from school from the bus stop or going down to the store for paper and stuff, and it wasn't exactly a case of not KNOWING she was one hell of a looker! It was more like a case of not wanting to drive myself crazy thinking about her the way the other guys, the corny grass-cutters, spent their days doing. I guess there's one broad in every neighborhood that looks like a movie star, but nobody ever really figures that they'll ever get to do anything about her but a lot of star in'! Suddenly that wasn't what I was figurin'! I hardly even knew what I was doing, but that didn't stop my hands! In a second I had those firm, luscious orbs against my palms and squeezing through my fingers, almost straining her breasts the way the screen door had done to the knit curve of her ass!
"I didn't know what the hell she was going to do and at that instant I couldn't have cared less! All I could think of was that I was FEELING-UP Marge! For real! Her breasts were sponge rubber-covered silk, like nothing I'd ever touched. I cupped them, pushing my palms against her nipples and felt them rise up almost instantly in my gentle grip.
"I'd touched girls before, but they had always been just, well ... girls! Their breasts had been tiny, beginning little buttons, or they had been kind of a baby-fat trip. The chicks in school that had great tits or a terrific ass were always hung up with a senior-class big shot or a football player, and you knew damn well they were out to use those bodies like only to get something in return! And they couldn't come close to Marge, not in any category! She had told me in the kitchen, earlier, that she was twenty-four! I used to think twenty-four was really old, but my hands were flesh-learning though, for the first time, and I KNEW that twenty-four is a trippy age for breasts! I was just fascinated by the firm reality! I rolled them in little circles, and watched every sculptured movement and shape the billowing flesh molded itself into under my caressing hands. I pressed my hands gently together and watched her hillocks roll together like twin pillows. They were rolling mountains of flesh that pushed into each other like beach balls of smoothness. The space between them could be opened and closed into a smooth plain of pinkness that glistened with a sheen of warmth from her labored breathing, or a tight thin shadow of a line that pushed the lubrication up through the billowed softness and made it flow down between her breasts in little drops. My hands were as damp as her breasts and they slipped and rolled over the bouncing orbs in the most exciting way! Now I was beginning to understand what the guys meant when they kidded around about having 'vegetable oil orgies'!
"The very idea of ALL of her fantastic body pressing and sliding around against me was like a bomb blast in my mind! In an instant the vision in front of me was transformed! As if a pair of beautifully full breasts billowed together by my exploring hands had magically become the total female image! Softly rounded pinkness that was always divided by a gentle shadow of warmth. The mystery, the damn fascination was in the depth of the shadows! The warm and exciting unknown that drew the eye no matter what else was exposed!
"Then she caught my eyes for the second time that night, and with one look killed the book-wormish kid for good! There was no shadowy mystery involved and we both knew it as we watched her reach across my lap and pull slowly down on my zipper! There was also no mystery about why the zipper itself seemed to have bulged up in one direction up the length of my pants! And there was no mystery at all in Marge's softly whispered reaction:
""GOOD GRIEF, KARL! YOU'RE SO DAMN BIG!'
"There was also no mystery about the way she wrapped both of her hands around my straining cock and said something to IT instead of me!
"'I want you in every opening in my body! I want you to fill me completely!'
"Her eyes came back up to mine.
"'I want to BALL you, Karl ... NOW! And I don't want you to say a word, not one word, till you blow a load UP INSIDE OF ME! RIGHT BETWEEN THE CHEEKS OF MY ... ASS!'
"It wasn't like an order or anything; it was more like a smiling and anxious way of telling me not to drive until I had been in a car! Then she shifted into high gear and we were off!
"The 'dues' of 'getting to know you' were over! It was as if nothing in the world counted except to touch, caress, feel, rub, wiggle, and pinch tenderly! To see and touch everything! To feel breasts rubbing their softly pointed nipples across my lips and cheeks and over my eyes, with an almost feathery, teasing lightness ... and then watch her take the heavy pink melons in her hands and roll them around my face as she captured my head in the cleavage between her incredible mountains of firmness! She pushed against them with her palms and let the rolling breasts rub every bit of my face and cheeks.
"I pulled her hands away, and replaced them with my own, sinking my fingers into the rubbery softness and rolling it around to feel even more. I let myself fall back on the couch, and she moved just enough to be almost kneeling above me, on the edge of the couch. My hands were wrapped around her breasts and I never loosened the grip; instead I let it pull her easily down over me as she bent forward at the waist. Her breasts seemed to spill out from her, blooming at the ends as they hung from her chest. Her nipples seemed to be the central blossoms, each reddened, straining for the warmth that I was blowing at them from pursed and aimed lips in a jet stream of hot air. And then she leaned down and took my stiffened rod in hand and blew me.
"I'll have to admit, that little skip in the action shocked even me. But if felt so good, squirming around at the end of her wide mouth as she dripped her lips all over my thumping cock. The only problem was-well, this being my first head job and all, I came real quick. Quicker than Marge was expecting anyway, 'cause she'd just pulled that pretty face of hers back when I let go with a load of goo that got her right in the puss! Even got some in her eye-ha-she was rubbing away at the corner of it, as it turned all spidery red. Me laying back and sputtering off like a water sprinkler.
"'HMMMMM, Karl,' she tells me as she wipes the glop from her eye. 'Just for that, no pussy tonight."
"'Just gimme the ass, baby!' I shot back at her, feeling for all the world like a big man, not realizing that my initial performance had barely put me above the age level, in Marge's spattered eye anyway, of the sleeping kid I was supposed to be sitting for. See, I was sitting for the B-s' kid, Jimmy, the neighbors on the other side of us, my folks and theirs out for the night. Thought it would be a good way to catch up on the books and everything. But this was turning out to be something else again.
"'Okay, kiddo. If that's what you want,' she tells me, a big old shit-eating grin spreading across her face. So before I know what the fuck's happening, she's up on the couch, all pink melons and pussy, the rest of her clothing trailing off on the floor. And she's surrounding me with her body-rubbing and pinching and stroking me all over, getting my dong up and ready for some more.
"Only this time, she stretches around me like , a big fat snake, and before I can catch on to what's going on, she's bending over the end of the sofa, her tight old asshole winking up at me, right from the top of that furry valley, sunk in between those nice round moons of her ass.
"'Stick it up my ass, Karl baby! Give it to me right in the ASS-that's the way I like it.' I later found out that she liked having a cock up her ass better than in her pussy, something her old man didn't really go for.
"So I crawl up behind her and slap my pigsticker to her. It's kinda like throwing it at a barn door for me, so she has to sort of guide me along. But after a couple of slippery attempts, my hardening cock almost getting bent in half on a couple of misses, I lunge in, sinking my cock into my very first shithole. Or any other kind of hole for that matter, except for the time I plugged a watermelon. Feels real nice and hot in there, old Marge just slapping time with her ass halves, knocking them back against my nuts as we go at it.
"She's yelling all kinds of encouragement at me, so I try and do better this time-holding on for a few minutes before I get all ready to explode. It's sorta hard, this being my first time and all, but I know one thing for sure-it sure beats the fucking radio and TV that are blaring in the background. Man, that chick and I'd have to do this more-this shit was no kid stuff at all."
Karl represents a form of McLuhan escapee. Media fed, he substituted real affection, his parents neglecting this need, for fantasy fulfillment, a futile attempt at escape. At his pubescent age, he was ready for anything-intellectually fully armed with pop culture but, at the same time, emotionally bankrupt. There was no real replacement for love, just temporary escapes. His induction into analism by Marge was easily accomplished as he had known little affection from his parents. Thus, he accepted the first offer.
Karl's father, a man well into his sixties, was devoted to one last push in a flagging business career in cleaning. His mother, married to a business career of her own, real-estate sales and development, had even less time for Karl. He became the neglected child whose substitute heroes were all antiestablishment (or antiauthority) figures. He was a very resentful child.
Enter the mother figure: the woman whose tragedy was that she could not conceive children herself, Marge C-. It was a natural situation. The sexuality that was generated between the two of them was an instinctual satisfaction of the basic frustrations of each of them.
It should be remembered that almost all forms of human behavior deal with some kind of a repressed emotional state of being which generates itself in some kind of an expressed action. It is this relationship between repression and expression that forms the key to understanding most of the peculiar manners in which the huge range of human sexuality can find itself expressed. As Havelock Ellis points out in his classic work, The Psychology of Sex:
We have always to remember that the whole art of living lies in a fine balance of expression and repression. For repression understood in the wide sense and not merely in the special sense given to it by psychoanalysts-is as central a fact of life as expression. We are constantly at the same time both repressing some impulses and expressing other impulses.
The common bond of similarity between the two partners here is that they both have developed a disdain for love as an expression of the resentment they feel at their own frustrated attempts at gleaning some actual love from having or being a parent. Anality, then, for each becomes an expressed avoidance of the love confrontation.
For Marge, the frustration of the coital act is that it has failed continually to fulfill its primary function for her: the conception of children. Thus anality becomes a way to find the needed love while avoiding the confrontation with the frustration inherent for her in the standard sex act. It is also a brand of lovemaking that requires more sheer sensuality than it does gentleness or love; thus it remains the perfect facade for the satisfaction of love frustration.
If these explanations are satisfactory for Marge, they become doubly satisfactory for Karl. Whereas it would be foolish for the observer to make a snap judgment about any form of behavior which would be all-inclusive in its conclusion, it is quite possible to see that Marge represents the mother figure Karl has longed for and, at the same time, hated for ignoring him. Repression to interpretation to expression: the need of love is repressed so that hostility develops, this hostility and love are both taken out on the mother/lover figure of Marge. Anality becomes the disguise or the camouflage that both of them use to gratify their need to vent their similar love/hate repressed fantasies and hostilities.
The very nature of the complexity, or the sophistication of the anal sexual act, holds the key to its attractiveness in these particular cases. It just simply does not seem to be what it is. It should not be misunderstood here by the serious student that the inference is that all forms of sexual behavior are compensations for love frustration, but it can be noted that sexuality is, after all, the beginning of all love. As such it is easy to observe the incredible variety of functions, depending on the individual life style and environment, that sexuality can have.
The age difference between Karl and Marge play an important part in their perception of reality as well. For Karl, at fourteen, the world is a stage of electric personalities which he can use as a continual cornucopia of media-provided identities-all of which serve to act as forms of avoidance to the real Karl, the child searching for sexual identification. For Marge, there is no real awareness of that myriad of characters in the boy's television-, book-and radio-fed head. She is only concerned with making love to the boy/man that she perceives him to be. Escape for her is a much more direct route, yet still leading to the same sexual ending, or anal ending in their case. The baby-sitting environment is somewhat coincidental to the situation, but in both partners' cases (Karl's in the sense of his being somewhat of a regressive anal personality; Marge's in that she has chosen it since she is unable to conceive children of her own) the factor helped to push them over the borders of normalcy.
"Man, after that first time with Marge, things really got interesting. Whether I was baby-sitting for the B-kid, either over at his house or mine, or even during times when I wasn't about to do anything but sit on my thumb-whatever chance it was that we got-I hung around with Marge a lot. And she showed me just about everything I know about sex-fucking and sucking, reaming and creaming.
"She taught me how to screw in the regular fashion, up her pussy hole, in a number of unfashionable positions. Showed me how to ream out an asshole with a tongue. All sorts of groovy stuff. But our favorite activity got to be when I shoved my cock up her ass.
"I remember one night in particular that stands out above all the rest. We were over at the B-s' house. I was sitting for Jimmy and he'd already been put to bed. So I get on the horn and call up Marge. Her old man was working the night shift like he usually did. She gives me that big old ;Yeah,' that means she'll be right over and soon be teaching me more about all there is to know.
"She comes in looking like a combination of gang busters and a toothpaste commercial. Since that first time, I'd learned to turn off the radio and television when she showed. Sorta lost my interest in all that shit, if you can dig it. And then we get it on for realsies.
"I can hardly wait to plug her hole. She's about falling out of the top of her knit blouse-fuck, those bazooms of hers were something else ... and those hot pants of hers snuggling up in her crotch. Almost looked like her snatch was about to swallow the material right up into that tight V. Couldn't hardly stand it. Started getting a big old pantsful of frogs just from fucking LOOKING!
"Marge, she's all sweated up. Been doing housework, slaving her tits over a hot stove-something or other. So she tells me that she was just about to climb into the shower and soap her ass down when I called. So I see my chance for getting us down to the bare essentials without having to go through all the trouble of undressing her. I mean, that stuff can be a gas all right, but you've gotta remember that I didn't know that much about it back then.
"'Take a shower,' I suggested in response to the situation, coolly giving myself a psychic slap on the back for adapting the transition so well.
"'Okay,' she snaps back, those boobs bouncing in her knit basket as she tries to beat me to the stairs.
"I poke my thumb up the crack in her yellow polka-dotted ass, goosing her up the second step.
"'OOOOeeee, BABY-BABY. That's not nice-but it'll do for a start,' she coos at me, the dialogue getting us to the bathroom at the top of the stairs where it belonged.
"I have her spit her gum in the shitter; then, as she strips off her tight top, freeing those bouncing pink apples of hers, I choke back my thoughts. That body of hers well, shit-I want it.
"'Oh, Karl, my little doll. I want you to soap me all down and give me a nice soapy screwing when we get in that neat old shower!' she tells me.
"Well, I start ripping off my T-shirt and Levi's, all the time keeping my eyes peeled on her fat tits as she goes about pulling down her bottoms. Mmmm-looked just as good the first time. For a chick that I thought was old, twenty-four being a ten year jump on me, this gal was real well preserved. Had it all.
"God, that pink and tingly looking skin made my own start to crawl from just thinking about how good it was going to be. I'd eat a mile of her shit just to sniff her asshole. Well, I'd just about do something like that. It was an old-time saying that she laid on me. Only there was nothing old-time about now. Us climbing into that big shower stall of the B-s. Her dainty birdfeet padding across the plush carpeting of yellow. I was already half-hard from just watching and thinking!
"I let Marge reach in and get the water going, me opening up the door and hanging on it, eye-balling those wiggling moons of her white ass as she struggles to get it just right. This chick was putting it right on. Making this kid something else again-anything but a 'right-on'er.' Just turned on. And that's an outasight way to be. If I'd had more teachers like Marge, I'd never think about dropping out.
"She turns back at me, big red lips spread over her made-up face, jugs swaying loosely under her armpits. The steam rolls out from the shower stall, making her skin get little beads of sweat all over it. All the time my eyes are taking it in, my heart sinking down to my legs, giving me a cockbeat that's all the time speeding up. I'd just have to see if I could get Marge to take my blood pressure. I knew she'd do it right.
"She did it right.
"She did it by making it rise even higher, my peter getting stiffer and more swollen-up red in an attempt to contain it. And she moves over and brushes her long white fingers, blood-red nail points safely tucked back to protect me, over my brow, flicking the sweat from it.
"'Well, loverboy?' she asks with a big pleading look that even a Trappist monk couldn't resist. 'How about a little shower-poo to get us all nice and clean?' She motions towards the steaming shower with her eyes, running her fingers down to pull gently at my arm.
"I didn't need any coaxing. Shit, my eyes were like magnets for that ass of hers-would've followed her to either pole and back again. She crooks a leg up over the tile base of the shower and steps inside, her eyes inviting me to do the same. As she hesitates, just to add to the drama of the situation, I get all mump-throated and have to admit to myself that the echoing hsssssssssst of the shower spray hitting those hollow tiles sounds pretty lonely. We'd have to fill it up with some nice fresh meat.
"So she bounds on in, her ass wobbling enticingly at my eyes, pulling me right in after her, divining rod pointing the way. But it wasn't after water. Marge didn't fuck around with a shower cap or anything, just leapt right under the sharp needles of the spray, letting it mat her hair down around her face and shoulders.
"About that time, I hit the path of the water myself and bumped into her, our feet nearly slipping on the tiles. Luckily they had those sticker things spread out along the bottom of the shower-you know, those things for footing? Anyway, when I slipped into Marge's bouncing arms, nearly falling flat on my ass, my heel caught one of those. I made a mental note that it was a good thing they had those things in their shower. Otherwise, what with the action we'd been giving it, we'd be bouncing our heads off the tile.
"The light yellow of the tiles made a nice framework for viewing Marge, her pinkness being reflected like an aura by the steady spray of the shower as it bounced from her skin. But what was good to look at felt better to feel, and I soon reached out to take her in my arms, pressing the wet smoothness of her to me, nearly squeezing steam out of her pores. She raised her moist, pliant lips up to mine, all puffed and red, so I leaned down and tried to swallow them up with my own.
"She snaked her arms around my body, making me feel even more tingly than the shower was making me, as we frenched with each other under the steady spray. The shower was pretty steamy when we jumped in, but I think we must've been adding some of our own. Fuck, sweat was pouring out of us-especially our foreheads. But we'd just dip down under the refreshing spray of that fucking shower and it'd wash away.
"After our initial warm-up, we decided we might as well do our unofficial business, that of showering, just to sanctify what we really intended to do. I reached over to the holder and took out the bar of soap, held it to the water, and lathered my hands. Handing the soap to her so that she could do the same, I began soaping her body down, running my hands carefully over her shoulders and back.
"And then she was lathering me, working at my shoulders while I relathered my hands for a return visit to her body, both of us smiling and laughing our fucking heads off as we did it. But we weren't laughing too hard. Both of us were working our nuts up too much for that. Just a fun kinda thing. So it went on like that, us lathering each other up, passing the soap back and forth, then jumping under the spray to wash off. I decided to give a turn to the hot-water dial to turn it down a little bit. We were making each other pretty fucking hot by doing the mutual soap thing, so we needed a little ventilation.
"The cooler water didn't in any way dampen our heated up spirits though. In fact, it improved it. But maybe it was the fact that we'd reached the time to soap down each other's crotches that helped us clean up our act. I'm not sure. But it was a good fucking thing, whatever it was.
"I just dipped my hands down there in the V of her basket and lathered it up real good. I reached around her slippery smooth side with my other hand and began going at it with my other, trapping her from both sides. But she didn't mind it a bit. I just kept jamming my hand deep into her foamy crack and kept working away. I had plenty of fucking good encouragement from her end of things to keep me interested, too. She was doing the same for me, concentrating some gentle circular latherings around my lower belly, thighs-and now, OH SHIT, my balls and cock. All soapy and nice. Felt too good for it to go down. My cock just pushed up through the soap as if to shout for more. And then, as I continued to wet-massage her pussy groove, she reached around with one hand and began to soap up my ass crack, still washing my balls and cock with the other.
"Shit-I don't know how long we went at it, but I do know that we spent enough time at each other's boxes for a week's worth of showers. But we didn't mind our extra bit at personal hygiene one bit. We weren't even thinking about it. We probably would've gone on and worn out the whole bar of soap if we hadn't dropped the soap. Which she did.
"I was quick to go down after it. I fell to my knees and groped around until I found it by the drain. I pulled myself back up to my knees and faced her crotch. So I decided to show what I've learned in school to date and began to dip my face into her snatch, intent on giving her some head. She'd showed me how to give real good head the last time we were together.
"But I blew it this time. Just as I dive my face in that soapy snatch, a bunch of soap flicks off into my eye. So there I am, like a fucking asshole, craning my neck around her fine thighs so I can get some of the shower spray in my face and get the fucking soap out of my eyes.
"As soon as I do, Marge laughing like a motherfucker up above me, I open up and-shit, what's this? I'm looking at the other end of operations. She's switched around and shoved her ass in my face. So, I decided to give her a nice rim job with my tongue-she'd taught me that one last time around, too. I nudge the nose up in her crack and begin to work my tongue up to her asshole. Using my finger as a guide, I center in on that tiny hole, then stick my tongue out, curl it up, and go after it. OhhhhooosheeeeelHIIT! I back off in one hell of a hurry. That smart-assed Marge is laughing her ass off. I mean, nobody'd told me about the soap. Sure, I was a dumb motherfucker to do that; after all, I was the one who'd soaped up her chute in the first place. But that was my first taste of soap in my mouth since my mother'd done it to me when I was a little kid. After all those years of seeing it on TV, I guess I'd forgotten the potential hazards. Kind of a rude way to get back to it.
"So I hold out an arm and the fucking laughing cunt helps pull me out, me struggling to my feet, still wiping soap out of my eyes and mouth. Never have been too much of a cleanliness freak. I mean, when some dude tells you to clean up your act, that's not always what he's telling you. Usually laying out that you're being too clean-need to get down and get it a little dirty. Like everybody else.
"Running right along, we jammed with the bar of soap for a little while longer, then, ooooops-Marge drops the soap again. Must've been trying to tell me something-that it was time to move on to the next event or some such shit. I start to dip down and get it again, but I flash on what happened the last time we ran this down. So I just pin Marge a real cold shot and she knows it's her turn to go fishing.
"She doesn't get down on her hands and knees like me, just bends over, waving that nice ass of hers up in my face. Shit-I know a target when I see it.
"I just -edged up to her, her ass giving me a great target in its bent-over position. Just as she reached for the soap, I nudged up against her, but before she could jump back up, I'd grabbed her around the waist and was slipping my cock into the slip. She began to rise up, giving out a cry of surprise, but I told her just to hold onto her knees and get ready and take all the hose I could give her.
"I really had a hard time getting past her ring-my cock kept slipping off the rubbery surface of her wet ass, but I finally managed it with a hard lunge. She gave out a big yell as I entered her, nearly knocking her head against the wall, but she clasped on to her knees with her hands and managed to hold her position.
"'Oooooeeeee, baby. That soap burns.' I held my stroke, having only plowed about midway up her ass. But evidently the burn from the soap against her tender mucous membranes finally gave way to pleasure, for she urged me on.
"'Never mind what I said, Karl. Now just give it to me good and hard. Fuck my ass good."
"I did. Holding onto her was like grabbing onto a greased pig, but I somehow managed, gripping her slithering sides as best I could while I dug into those grip things on the floor for traction. Then I began really putting it to her, grinding my meat up her rear passageway as hard and fast as I could. Since my footing was sort of unstable, to say the least, I found it kind of difficult to drive it all the way home, but Marge tried to help me out by pumping back in a rocking motion to ease things a little bit.
"It didn't take me long to really get into what I was doing. Marge kept urging me on, the needle-sharp spray of the shower sending piercing fingers up and down my skin to add to the pleasure. There were no other people around to make it tough for us, no weird characters out of Psycho about to come in and put a hatchet job on our ending.
"Just me and Marge; me in command; her bending over and taking it. The slapping of our bodies began to ring out against the walls, blending with the hissing of the shower. Underneath my feet, I could hear the gurgling of the drain, as I made a steady popping noise plowing my cock in and out of Marge's main drain.
"The whole thing made a steady cadence as I shoved it to her goodie hatch. I was getting a reeling charge deep inside my guts and was about ready to let go, so I slid one hand around Marge's slick hips and began to make circular motions around her lower belly, searching for her nest.
"I finally found it and began twiddling at her clit with my fingers to help her out. It wouldn't be much longer for me. That made everything go a lot faster for her. Me, I was already charging for the finish line. I just started running my hands all up and down her slippery body, getting a little clit here, a little tit there. I should say, big tits-she really had a set on her.
"Then I really let fly with a hot load of come, filling her ass with a lot more than soap. She went all weak in the knees under my assault, her asswalls losing their grip as she let go with a big come of her own. It was a hot one all right-made both of us get a reaction like we needed a laxative before, and had gotten it.
"Afterwards, we took time wiping each other off with a nice plush towel-me giving special attention to her tits and ass. But I ended up standing there in the bathroom fucking her face. She didn't seem to mind. In fact, she gave me better head than usual, letting me pound away to completion, slamming my cock into her mouth as fast as I could. When I let fly with my come, she swallowed every drop. Man, that fucking chick just knocked me out. I'd never heard of anything like it, much less felt it. After that, we'd get together every chance we got, up till the time we moved. She taught me everything I know today-pulled me right away from the old tube and into life. And I never once had to mow her lawn-the one outdoors that is."
While no follow-up investigation was available on Marge, Karl did visit a psychologist sometime later, bringing forth this investigation. While his reason for visiting the psychologist did not directly relate to this specific problem, the visitation being arranged by his parents over other personal problems, the incident between him and Marge came up as part of that general probe into his past relationships-a method common in the caseworkers' attempt at getting to know the history of a patient.
The problem arose as a disparity between himself and his aging parents, and his induction into sexuality by his former neighbor had, as it turned out, played a heavy role in his later rift with them. He had become wise to the ways of the world beyond his years, and consequently had turned to the streets as a way of learning, like so many of today's younger generation, allowing his classroom work to drift. This was one of the primary reasons his parents had entered him into therapy.
Karl has responded well to therapy-the main problem was in convincing his parents that he was not unlike many of his peers. While his induction into sexuality by Marge had led him to prefer analism as a primary means of achieving satisfaction, he is widely versed in the other byways of sex. In other words, Karl is a lot better off than his parents might believe. In fact, had someone like Marge not come along, he may have continued his escapist ventures into books and the media to the point that it may have been more difficult for him to alter.