Chapter 2
"Hester, don't," Roger protested weakly.
"I have to," she said, and then her lips encompassed the outer edge of his sensitive glans, and the feel of her tongue tracing over the twitching tip made his cock still harder.
Where had this prim, school-teacherish woman learned to do such a thing, Roger wondered as he writhed in the sweet agony of lust He knew without being told again that nothing was going to make her stop until she had brought him to a shattering climax, one that she hoped would wear him out and drain him of all desire.
His swelling, twitching penis pulsed as her warm hands came up to hold it while she sucked voraciously, sometimes twirling her tongue around the rim and sometimes licking up and down the tingling shaft in a maddening dance.
Whatever reservations Roger might have had were soon forgotten completely. His pent-up passion demanded release and the redheaded woman with the sucking mouth rendered him almost mindless. All he wanted was to release the reservoir of lusting essence stored within him, to let it gush in a never-ending stream into the hot mouth that was slurping at the hard knots of his testicles and then returning to suck noisily on his taut, thick rod. Owning his mouth to breathe, Roger heard himself groaning instead.
His aching prick had now swelled to its final diameter, and the redhead seemed attached to it like a permanent fixture. Wherever she had learned this skill, she apparently had gotten her timing and actions down pat. She knew the right moment to do everything. Her clever tongue coiled and struck with uncanny accuracy, making Roger's stomach muscles buck and twitch with the incredible delight of the liquid caress. The marvelous goodness of it made him raise his upper body from the bed, supporting himself on his hands for a few moments while the slippery tongue spun around the swollen crown like a fleshy eggbeater. It set his whole cock on fire and made his balls draw up in a tight knot Unable to bear the lovely torture without moving, Roger found himself hunching forward and trying to shove more of the rigid cock into the soft, determined mouth of the English girl.
Hester came forward to meet the sudden thrust then retreated until the throbbing glans almost slipped from her mouth. Her head was bent right over the top of Roger's erect tower, and she sucked vigorously but never left her flashing tongue on one spot long enough to bring on a premature spout of scalding sperm. Roger was breathing so heavily he couldn't tell which were groans and which were regular intakes of air. It was a good thing no one else was in the apartment because they would have heard him for sure. Not that he could have stopped if all of Los Angeles had walked in on them. He was overcome by the suddenness of the erotic attack and held in thrall by the fantastic sensations this cold, prim woman was able to create with her talented mouth. Roger had had blowjobs before, but this was the most unique experience of his entire young life.
Hester herself seemed unmoved by the eroticism of the act she was performing. She did this with the same efficiency that she typed letters, made appointments and took care of all the other secretarial work that was part of her job. How she mentally fitted this in as another duty, Roger couldn't imagine, and he didn't have time to figure out the quirks of her mind now. He desperately needed what she was doing and, in a sense, was grateful for it, but that gratitude was only a dim awareness in the very back of his mind. Instead, most of his emotions were concentrated on the ravenous mouth that was rapidly bringing him to a shattering completion.
He leaned forward, not daring to touch the softly working face. The lustrous red hair, which seemed her only concession to vanity, fell in soft strands that now brushed his stomach and made the nervously tensed muscles twitch. As he watched, she drew back her mouth again until only the deep red plum of the glans was still inside her lips and then she went to work with a vengeance. Roger could hardly believe the sucking, nibbling, lightly biting actions that resulted. Her kissing tongue laved him with hot saliva, and when it passed over the fat nub, he had to clench his jaws to keep from screaming.
Roger's eyes were wide and staring. Suddenly his mouth went slack, his tongue protruded slightly, and he started panting almost like a dog. Hester apparently recognized the signs and responded in a way she knew would please. She began slurping audibly at the bulging knob, adding sound as well as sight the incredible lewdness of what he was watching. Taking her still covered breasts in her hands, she pressed them to either side of the trembling shaft and rubbed the firm mounds in time with the sucking of her mouth.
Roger gasped and his hot penis jerked and strained. Hester lifted her head and watched him, the violet eyes observing his reactions intently. She deliberately allowed her red tongue to flick from her mouth with each sweep, starting the lapping at the bottom glans and ending at the tip. Her lips were spread so wide that she seemed almost to be grinning as Roger shuddered and shook and his boiling explosion burst into her wet working mouth.
Hester wasn't the least perturbed by the flood of semen. She gulped and swallowed, gulped and swallowed, and it seemed to the shattered boy that he would never stop coming. The greedy cannibal between his legs was going to keep sucking and eating until he died of nervous fatigue. He thought of asking Hester to stop devouring him alive, but he had neither the will nor the strength to speak. And in a strange dream-like way, he didn't really care if he died in this way.
Long minutes later, he was aware that Hester let his limp, deflated cock slip from her mouth and flop against his hairy crotch. Then she got to her feet, straightened her clothes and looked down at him in disdain.
"There, that will hold the beast in you at bay for a while!" Her voice was contemptuous, but Roger didn't care. Anyone who could fellate a man like she could, couldn't be all bad.
"Thanks, Hester," he managed weakly and stretched out for a nap.
"Humph!" the redhead said indignantly and strode from the room with her back as ramrod straight as ever.
Meanwhile, Stacy was sitting on a comfortable couch in the newly redecorated living room of Stepping Stone House, a converted mansion in the Wilshire district that Judge Upton had acquired for the use of the new project. Sitting on hassocks or floor cushions facing her were her first group of delinqueit boys, or as she preferred to refer to them, her maladjusted boys. There were a varied lot, ranging in age from perhaps twelve to sixteen, all staring at her with half-sullen, half-expectant expressions on their faces.
"Well, well," Stacy said, beaming at them indiscriminately. She shifted on the seat to pick up a paper from the stack on the couch beside her and didn't seem to notice that the movement caused her already short skirt to hike up an extra inch or so. Neither did she pay any attention to the indrawn breaths that indicated the boys had noticed. Paper in hand, she looked around at them again and counted noses. "I see there are only ten of you here instead of the twelve we were told to expect. Is there some reason for that?"
A tall blond youth sharing a hassock with a somewhat smaller dark-haired boy raise his hand and said politely, Tm afraid we lost a couple on the way, Mrs. Norris. Stan and Piggy got off the bus and took a walk."
"Oh?" Stacy said, smoothing her hair back with a gesture that caused her full breasts to jut upward and strain against her bra and the soft wool of her sleeveless sweater. Again she was oblivious of the ten pairs of young eyes that studied her with varying degrees of cynicism and lust.
"Thank you, Ricky," Stacy said finally. "I'm sure the boys had something important to do-" She disregarded the rude snicker this brought from someone, "-and they'll come here as soon as they understand what a wonderful opportunity Stepping Stone House offers them. So well just keep their little escapade a secret among us, right?"
"Right," Ricky agreed, his eyes lingering on the exposed thigh Stacy was unconsciously displaying.
"First, let's all get acquainted," Stacy said cheerfully and referred to her list again. "Which one of you is Sonny Tucker?"
"I am," said a husky, broad-shouldered black youth of about fifteen, showing a flash of white teeth in what could have been a lop-sided grin or a sneer.
"Hi, Sonny," Stacy smiled. "Now where is Vic Bolano?"
"Here, Mrs. Norris," the dark-haired boy sitting next to Ricky said, not lifting his gaze from Stacy's rounded knees.
Stacy smiled at him with bland benevolence. Tm glad to know you, Vic. And that reminds me, before we go any further, I think we ought to settle on what you boys are going to call me. Remember, we're all going to be equals here, working together to improve your futures. There will be no discipline or strict rules other than those you impose on yourselves. So since I will be just one of the gang, don't you think it would be easier if you called me Stacy instead of Mrs. Norris?"
Someone toward the rear of the room whistled and several of the younger boys giggled, but Ricky Benson stood up and looked around reprovingly. "Now come on, fellas, we all know what a terrific chance Stacy is giving us. We're tired of the chickenshit-pardon me, ma'am, but that's what it was-we had to take over at Little Q, and I for one think we ought to knock ourselves out to cooperate with this fine lady who wants to help us."
"Right on," a tall, slender, light-colored Negro boy said mockingly, and a couple of the others applauded half-heartedly as Ricky turned back to Stacy with a saccharin grin.
"There now, Mrs.-I mean, Stacy. I've said my piece and I want you to know that I'm behind you all the way in this wonderful experiment to humanize the corrective system. It's about time someone took over from the pigs, someone like yourself who has intelligence and a broad humanist approach to the problem."
"Why, thank you, Ricky," Stacy beamed. "It's just marvelous that you understand so well what my purpose is in establishing Stepping Stone House."
She turned back to the papers in her hand, shifting positions on the couch and inadvertently exposing the inner surface of her thigh up so far that a hint of pink panty showed. She seemed totally unaware of this display and the effect it was having on the boys. They were all leaning forward, staring avidly, some licking their lips and others forming silent whistles with puckered lips.
"Terry and Jerry O'Leary? Are you here?" Stacy asked.
Two hands shot up and two voices said together, "Here, teacher."
Stacy smiled benignly at the two freckle-faced redheads. "Twins! How nice! You boys will have to try twice as hard as the rest of us."
"We always try hard, Miss," One pudgy twelve-year-old said with an angelic smile. "We're the hardest there is around."
"Yeah, we noticed back at the Hall." the light-skinned Negro said. "The two of you couldn't fill up that fat nurse's hot gash."
"Shut up, Luke!" Terry said "You was gettin' that stuff too!"
"Gentlemen...gentlemen," Ricky said, shaking his head at them disapprovingly. "Remember, there is a lady present. We don't want Stacy to get any wrong ideas about us."
"Hell, no," said a long-haired, bare-footed boy in his early teens. "She might just split out of here so fast she'd leave her shoes."
"You can close your mouth too, Candy Cane," Vic Bolano said. "You dudes quit wising off or you'll have to deal with Rick and me."
"Yeah? Who put you in charge?" Sonny Tucker snarled. "I don't need no rich little ofays to tell me when I can shit or breathe."
Stacy interrupted hastily. "You must be Luke Fields," she said to the cafe au lait boy. "I understand you're quite a swimmer."
"Yah, his old man taught him 'cause he figured someday old Luke would be sent to the rock," the Mexican-American member of the group said, "and the only way off would be to swim. But they closed Alcatraz before Luke got out of grammar school, and swimmin won't get you nowhere at Big Q."
"Or little Q either," Sonny Tucker added and everybody laughed.
"Okay, you guys, have your fun," Luke said, "but one of these days you'll be standing on a dock watching a naked blonde drowning just fifty feet away and if you could just rescue her, you know she'd ball you, but all you can do is stand there helpless and cream your jeans 'cause you can't swim."
"I'd learn so fast, I'd be in her before she went down the second time," the Mexican-American youth said. "She'd just dangle there on the end of my dong, nice and safe and happy."
"Knock it off, you dudes, you're gonna embarrass Stacy," Ricky said.
"No, no, that's all right," Stacy said. "I want you all to feel at home. You just talk the way you want to, say anything that makes you feel at ease."
She got up and walked about among the boys, and Ricky watched her. His eyes lingered on the soft golden hair, the full thrusting breasts, the beautiful length of legs, and he nodded as though having made up his mind about something. When she came close to him, he looked up into her blue eyes and kept his voice low so she had to bend over to hear him.
"Stacy, you'll have to forgive these boys for their rough manners and vulgar talk. Some of them just don't know any better."
"But they'll learn, Ricky, they'll learn," she said and patted his shoulder. "I just know they will."
"Yes, ma'am," he said and raised his hand as though by accident and let it brush across her breasts. "Oh, excuse me, Stacy, I'm so awkward."
Stacy smiled and gave no indication that anything untoward had happened as she moved on and identified the three remaining boys. There was a huge, hulking youngster called Lard, an eleven-year-old cherub named Timmy Bates, and a Cuban who spoke no English and only nodded when she addressed him as Juan Martinez. She welcomed them all and then perched on the arm of the chair that Vic Bolano had moved to.
"Now, fellows, I'd like to tell you a little bit about what it's going to be like here at Stepping Stone House," she began, while Vic stared in awe at the pert round buttocks so close to his arm. He looked over at Ricky, who raised his eyes from the renewed display of thigh long enough to wink and form the word "Easy" with silent lips.
"Mr. and Mrs. Meyer will be here all during the week, but you mustn't think of them as guards or custodians of any kind. They are here only to help you boys, and I will be here also at least part of each day. As you know, I'm very high on this project and will spend as much time with you as I possibly can."
Vic grinned at Ricky and, holding his hand a good two inches away from Stacy's tempting buttocks, pretended to cup and caress them while Ricky watched appreciatively.
"I'm sure you also know that there will be no classes held here. The courses that will train you for a career will be conducted at various trade schools or high schools in the area. You'll go to school, in the morning, just like everybody else and come home every afternoon. There is plenty of recreation equipment available-ping-pong and pool tables in the game room, television in each of the bedrooms, and a well-stocked library. In addition, Judge Upton managed to get us a house with a swimming pool and anyone who cares to may use it at any time."
Terry O'Leary's hand went up. "What will you be doing, Stacy? Are you kind of like a house mother?"
Stacy smiled warmly at the youngster and walked over to place an arm around his shoulders. "I'll be your counselor and...well, yes, in a way, I'll kind of be a mother to you all."
"Oh, mama mia!" Vic said under his breath, and Sonny had a sudden coughing fit.
"Gee, that will be nice," Terry said, leaning his head against Stacy's breast. "I always wanted a pretty blonde mother."
"And that's some mama," Luke muttered.
"What about going out?" Jim Cane asked. "Are we restricted to the grounds?"
"No, of course not. We want you fellows to have a normal social life. You can come and go pretty much as you like. There will be no curfew, but it might be a good idea not to be too obvious about coming in at all hours of the night."
"Who wants to go anywhere?" Luke asked, looking at Stacy's careless display of flesh. "I'd say we got everything we want right here."
"Right on, man!" Sonny agreed.
Stacy walked over to gather up her papers. "So I guess we understand each other. If you want to go up to your rooms and get settled in, please do so. I have nothing else to say. I hate long-winded speeches anyway."
The boys got up and milled around her, each one managing to touch her somewhere as they jostled each other in their progress toward the door. The fleeting intimacies seemed to evoke no response at all from Stacy, who just continued to smile happily at her departing charges.
As they went down the hall together, Vic Bolano looked at Rickey inquiringly. "What gives with this chick?"
"This is a real high class broad," Rickey explained. "Real foxy but dumb when it comes to sex. She doesn't even know what an easy lay she is."
"I don't get you," Vic said.
"The lady is hot, man, so hot she can't keep her legs together for two minutes at a time, but she don't know what's wrong with her. She thinks she's not interested in sex and can't be had, and maybe in a lot of situations, she couldn't be, but here at great old Stepping Stone House, she's going to be Miss Available."
"How do you figure that?"
"Because I know her type. I used to ball a schoolteacher who was hardly aware she was being balled 'cause she was so busy trying to reform me. Man, she was something! Boobs out to here and a cunt so hot it nearly blistered my cock every time I put it in her. She'd do anything! She'd fuck and she'd suck and she'd take it in the ass, all in the name of helping a poor boy find himself. She was a real idealist, that Miss Perkins. I taught her to spread her legs and open her cunt every time I said to, and I turned her on to my friends too, told her it was her duty to mankind."
Vic looked skeptical. "You're putting me on."
"No way," the blond youth said smugly. "She fucked when I said fuck and she ate cock when I said eat cock. I even made her do it with a bull dike gym teacher who gave me twenty bucks for a crack at her."
"And you think Stacy Norris is like that too?"
"Yes, but this broad is a lot higher class and her brains even more addled by all this do-gooder crap."
"I can't believe it. No imagine chick like this is going to put out for a bunch of junior grade hoods like us."
"There's where you're wrong, my friend. Our being bad boys is what makes it so easy. She thinks of us as being victims of society and wants to hold our hands and comfort us. And about the time she starts holding my hand, the other one is going to be up under her skirt, and pretty soon I'll let her comfort me flat on her pretty little butt."
"That I got to see," Vic said, unconvinced.
"You will, old buddy, you will," Ricky promised. "You'll not only see it, you'll share it. After all, us cellmates have got to stick together, right?"
"Right, but-"
"But nothing. She'll fuck me when I tell her to and then she'll do the same for you, and when we get our fill of that blonde cunt, well pass her around to the other dudes, one at a time or all together, whatever I say."
"Oh, no, man! This is one chick who'll never go for a gang-bang. Fancy ladies like that don't pull nobody's train!"
"You wanna bet?" Ricky said. "I'll bet you a blowjob from Ms. Stacy Norris for a cock up her ass that she'll pull a train when I tell her to."
Vic shrugged. "Okay, man, it's a bet. I win either way."
"We both do, and we win in another way too. We'll charge those other dudes for her services. Stacy Norris is gonna be our little whore, we're gonna be her players and when we tell her to git down, man, she'll git down."
"You make it sound so easy," Vic said as they entered the lavishly furnished room they were going to share. "Wow! Look at this place!"
"Yeah, it's bigger and better than the one I had at home," Ricky snickered. "And my old man has a lot of bread. Do you think an outfit that goes to all the trouble of housing us like this is gonna let us junior cons go fuckless? No way! Along with the ping-pong, television, pool table and swimming pool, they have given us the biggest gift of all-Stacy Norris to fuck to our hearts' content. She just doesn't know it yet."
"How you gonna make her do it? You can't just walk up to her and say, 'Lay down, chick, we gonna fuck.'"
"Nope. This one you handle a little at a time. You saw how she ignored it when I put my hands on her boobs and how she did the same thing when the O'Leary twins snuggled their pug noses into them. She paid no attention at all to Luke's hand on her butt or all the other ways the guys touched her. She takes them all as gestures of friendship or something, and by the time I get my hand under her dress and into that golden pussy, it will be too late to protest."
Vic sat down on the bed and bounced a couple of times. "I still can't see it, man, but I hope you can bring it off."
"You just watch the old master at work," Ricky boasted. "When I pull the string, my little wind-up doll is gonna say, 'Fuck me, fuck me,' and then do it!"