Chapter 1
The Sydney was similar to most apartment houses in suburban Northern California. It was faded brick, cube-shaped, and set back from the quiet residential Green Street by a row of eucalyptus trees and flat, tired grass. In the back was a small circular swimming pool, shielded by a redwood fence and high, protective shrubs, and all the apartments with their small balconies faced it for what the management termed "informal and gracious living." The Sydney was one of the most reasonably priced rentals in San Menton, and as a result, it mainly catered to young couples with children, retired pensioners, and school teachers. Curiously enough, considering the low rates and the fact this was California, there was only one divorcee living there - a thirty-two year old piano teacher by the name of Mrs. Shirley Jackson.
Most of the men in the building had, at one time or another, attempted to interest Shirley Jackson in a little romancing. Despite being over thirty, she was exceptionally firm-breasted, slim-waisted, and sensually blonde-haired - a provocative combination guaranteed to give dreams of illicit sex to even old Elisha Loire, the septuagenarian custodian. However, they had all been repulsed gently but firmly, and in fact, no man had ever been seen in her company on a social basis. Some of the wives had been suspicious of so beautiful a single woman temptingly near their husbands, but soon they became catty by Shirley's very avoidance of men, perhaps due to jealousy for her continual beauty. Eventually they lost interest as a couple of years passed and new things came along to gossip about, and Shirley never changed her habits. She went on playing on balmy nights, and taught her students on her apartment's smaller spinet, and was always gracious and courteous...
But there was that coolness toward men which never dissipated. It was wary defensiveness, almost as if Shirley were afraid one of them might suddenly attack her without warning ... rip her clothes off against her will ... maybe even rape her . ..
On this particular spring morning, the weather was a bit nippy with the last remaining gusts of winter. The bedroom window was open a crack for fresh air, and the slight breeze coming in rustled the flowers on the bureau and rippled across the thin blanket which covered the piano teacher. Shirley turned on the bed, squinting and shielding her eyes from the brightness of the sun which played over her face, her long, satiny blonde hair cascading over the pillow and forming a soft cushion for her head.
She knew it was time to get up and dress, and* that if she didn't, she would be late for her first lesson of the day. It was Saturday, her busiest time, and young Larry Dempsey would be waiting, one of the very few students who actually seemed to enjoy practicing. After another few moments, she stretched languidly, yawning, and then kicked the sheet aside and stood up.
She ran her fingers through her hair, resigned to the idea she must start to work, and padded barefoot out of the small bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom. She was wearing a rumpled pair of baggy pajamas, as she had every night since her divorce from Douglas Jackson some three years before. Sleeping naked made her feel dirty somehow, as though it were a wanton and immoral flaunting of her flesh, and a soft, filmy negligee reminded her too acutely that she was supposedly a woman underneath. The pajamas were appropriate for her, she thought; they were as free of anything sexual as she was internally.
Shirley put the stopper in the tub and ran water into it, testing the temperature as she adjusted the handles. When it was just as she liked it, warm to the touch, she unbuttoned the pajamas quickly, placing them on top of the clothes hamper. While waiting for the tub to fill, she glanced at herself critically in the full length mirror attached to the back of the bathroom door.
"I've a good body," she murmured under her breath. "I really do. But it hasn't brought me happiness, not ever. I might as well be an ugly hag. Perhaps it would be better if I were ..."
She swept the long blonde hair from her shoulders, and studied the creamy white skin of her breasts with their marbled and blue-veined transluscence, their pink areolae making large, perfect accents for her rounded, ridged nipples. She raised her arms over her head in the classic nude pose and stretched her breasts taut, standing that way for a long moment as her eyes traveled across the mirror's reflection. She moved her eyes down across the flat plane of her belly and past the tiny outline of her navel, down to the curly blonde fleeciness of her pubic triangle which highlighted the pink fullness of her softly molded vaginal lips. She could see the tiny tip of her clitoris peeking out from the crested valley of her vagina in almost child-like shyness.
She pirouetted lightly, examining the dimpling flesh of her thighs and buttocks, and recalled with a blush the many whistles and leers she'd received whenever she would wear anything tight or revealing. Then she became aware of a wafting cloud of steam, and realized that the tub was full. She hurredly shut off the faucets and stepped in, feeling the warm water envelope her as she slowly sank down, and fill her with a lethargic contentment as she stretched out full length with her head touching the rear lip of the porcelain. Yes, she had to admit as she saw the contours of her naked body before her, that she was still a good-looking woman. She was naturally proud of this - and yet, she mused in a way it was the reason behind her troubles. If she had been born a plain-Jane, none of her problems would have happened, and she would probably be happily married with children as most of her school chums were now. None of them had ever been cursed with being wanted for their beauty alone. Nor had they had ever been watched as closely by their parents under the misguided prejudice that any girl as sensuous looking as she had been, had to be automatically wicked. All of her friends had to give something else to attract their husbands - something from within ... and that particular something had been choked to death inside of her by what she was on the surface. The lazy effect the water was producing allowed her to relax ... to ponder as she had so many times in the past the terrible problems of having a beauty like hers ...
Shirley had been brought up very strictly, a product of a Mid-Western Baptist family. Her brothers and sisters were all straight-laced, stern people to this day, scandalized by her divorce even though she had never been a wild person herself. Even as a high school girl she had dated very little, and then always under the apprehensive eyes of her parents, who would much rather have had her practicing the piano for hymn-fests.
Shirley had hated the clinically detailed sex talk of her girl friends, and would often find excuses to leave their company when they would relate how good this or that boy was in making love. She could still remember her shocked horror at seeing the momento her best friend Lisa Kurtz had shown her - a tied rubber of semen, her latest boy friend's testament of manhood.
And the boys, carrying the pubic hairs of their girls in their wallets. And their heavy, beer-laden breath and groping, farm-calloused hands clutching her ripening thighs and breasts. She had never succumbed to any of them, never allowing anything more than heavy kissing, but no matter how she tried to convince her father and mother of her chastity, they always suspected she was laying any boy she was with for over five minutes. Time and time again, it was drummed into her that sex was evil, only barely tolerable when married.
Then along came Doug. Douglas Jackson was louder, brasher, more cocky than any boy she had ever met. He didn't walk, he strutted. He would throw back his head and bark laughter, especially at anything obscene. He billed himself as the Man with the Biggest, claiming there wasn't a girl around who wouldn't beg for the chance to spread her legs for him. He looked upon Shirley as a challange, and Shirley looked up on him as the personification of everything her parents had warned her to avoid. But she was fascinated with him as a child is by fire, and couldn't stay away, despite his filthy and coarse habits and his grasping, lion-like attacks upon her virginity.
No matter how many times he attempted to get into her panties, she always managed to draw the line. This was the part that drove Douglas to distraction. He had come so close to possessing that luscious body of hers so many times, and had been left in frustration so many times, that his control had been destroyed entirely. It got to the point where nothing else mattered to him than to have her ... and the only way to have her was to marry her. Shirley's parents were delighted with the idea, wanting some man, any man, to make an "honest woman" of their daughter. Before either Shirley or Doug were entirely aware of what they were getting into, they had walked up the aisle and were in a hotel room on their honeymoon night.
All that ran through Doug's mind that first time together was that at last she was his! The piled-up frustrations of their dating and engagement were over; she had been stressing the need of a ceremony all these months and now legally he could fuck her! It was just too much to waste time over! Doug ripped at his clothing, thrusting his shirt and pants from him in reckless disregard. The shoes were thrown across the room, and then he was dropping his underpants, his heavy thick penis growing and expanding until it looked to his bride as though it were ready to burst. She had never seen a man's penis before, and certainly never one that was in a high state of erection, and the turgid, blood-quivering pole which stood out from her new husband's loins had made her cringe in her wedding negligee.
Douglas reached down and stroked his massive cock, making thrusts with his pelvis in a lewd caricature of copulation. "Like me, darling?" she could still hear ringing from his lips, though now it seemed to have occurred centuries ago.
There had been no verbal response from her, her throat dry and constricted as she continued to stare at him with mounting dread. She knew what was going to happen, that she was going to be violated. Doug was going to use her as his sexual receptacle, for gratification of his own burning lusts and nothing more! She raised her legs defensively and shrank back on the bedspread, whimpering helplessly to herself.
Doug ignored his bride's fear and rejection. He reached for her, a deep growl erupting from his throat as he pulled her roughly to him, ripping away her thin, sheer negligee as though it were tissue paper.
"Be gentle, Douglas! Oh please be gentle with me!" her voice resounded through the stark hotel room as he held her down with one hand and ran the other greedily over the ripe contours of her resisting young body. He cruelly kneaded her ripe succulent breasts and dropped his mouth to the budding nipples to chew hungrily at their tips.
"No! N-noooo, not this way! Not if you love me, not this way, Doug!" she pleaded, but the words fell on deaf ears. She was imprisoned on the bed by his heavy tensed chest, her long blonde hair thrashing helplessly from side to side, her face contorted in pain and terror. She pleaded more until the sounds became nothing but incoherent murmurs of jumbled words. It was then that he fucked her for the first time.
He rolled on top of her, catching her naked body as her long slender legs scissored out in one last desperate attempt to escape his brutal ravishment. His hips fell heavily between the full wide-splayed thighs, pinning her jerking buttocks tightly to the bed. The soft blonde curls of her pubic hair brushed teasingly against his throbbing cock, inciting him to incoherent mumblings of crazed uncontrollable lust. ..
The recollection of her first savage impalement flickered tormentingly through Shirley's mind as she lay back in the tub of water, a symbol of everything which had befallen her before or since . . . Doug's knees were holding hers wide apart on the honeymoon bed, and he was grinding his pelvis hard into her squirming, defenseless loins in his furious search to reach that goal which had eluded him for so long . . . and then suddenly he found it, and he jammed his hardened penis between the tender fleshy lips of her virginal pussy with a brutal cry of victory. He flicked his hips forward, shoving all of his thick, long cock into her quivering cuntal hole and skewering her protective hymen like a sword through a rosebud. Shirley cried out and whipped her legs in a vain effort to escape, but it only made matters worse for her. Her new husband stroked harder and farther up inside her belly, his rock-hard erection splitting her warm, yielding cunt without mercy or thought of possible harm.
"Ohhh God, Douglas! Please . . . Please stop!" she groaned in pain and anguish. "I can't take it! Ohhh . . . you're hurting me! Ohhhh God!"
Harder and faster Douglas went, a crazed bull of a lover uncaring for anything except that finally his prick was fucking this perfect body beneath him! Their genitals crashed together with resounding slaps, colliding with sadistic repetition. Shirley's belly churned in repulsion as this man whom she had thought had loved her drubbed on like some rutting beast, sinking the full extent of his incited hardness all the way to her tender cervix. She whimpered hopelessly, a futile gesture which only seemed to excite Doug more. He locked his mouth to hers as the sperm began to rise in his testicles, and he mashed her breasts to his chest and pushed her shoulders back. He forced his hands under the white trembling cheeks of her buttocks, pulling them up tightly to meet him still more, his testicles screwing tightly down into the wide split crevice of her ass.
Shirley wailed loudly as she was plundered almost beyond endurance. This was madness! It was every bit as awful as her mother had warned her it would be! Dear God, how could any woman ever desire to a man to rape her this way? Her arms were pinned down to her sides, and she could feel the burgeoning cock of her new husband ramming up and down inside her inflamed cuntal channel like a red-hot iron cudgel. .. until at last, thankfully, Doug reached his climax.
Wildly he thrust his tongue in her mouth, and his penis flaired with sudden hugeness as the semen amassed inside of it. The hot white cream burst into Shirley's cringing pussy like great waves of lava, flooding the already overfilled cavern of her swollen vagina. Doug burrowed into his bride a few more times in an effort to milk his balls completely empty, and his ejaculating penis continued to send out its torrent of cum until the base of his cock and the bedspread beneath her buttocks were saturated with his seminal over-flow.
Shirley jerked her legs out to the full width, convulsing and quaking. "Ooooohaag!" she cried unintelligibly with his tongue still in her mouth. And then, before she had recovered from his rapacious attack upon her, Douglas was fucking her again, venting his lust over and over inside her groaning body, flooding her belly again and again with the volcanic seed of a year's frustrated waiting and hoping.
How long or how many times he fucked her, she could not remember. She had been an unconscious being in another world the rest of her wedding night, awakening the next morning physically ravaged and mentally shattered. And though Douglas apologized over a subdued breakfast, he subsequently took her the same fashion whenever he had the urge to make love to his wife. Make love? No - to pummel her, to subconsciously punish her for all those frustrating months she had avoided his advances.
The next seven years of marriage were hellish for Shirley. She tried to be a good wife, and perhaps if she had become pregnant they would have stayed together for the sake of their child. But no baby came, and never did she become eager for his panting thrusts and surging orgasms. Her ingrown repulsion of that first night in bed, coupled with her mother's nagging advice about the sins of the flesh, made even talking of their sexual difficulties impossible. Life became worse and worse, filled with constant fights and bickerings .. . Douglas couldn't understand his wife's abhorrence of sex, and felt sexually inadequate for the first time in his life. Shirley was beside herself with her own fears and frigidity, hostile not only to her husband but eventually even to herself. It was a poisonous affair. Eventually the end came, over a morning much the same as this one, when Douglas had slammed down his cereal spoon and coldly told her:
"I want a divorce, you cold-cunted prune. I want to be free so I can find a real woman ..."
For ten minutes Shirley Jackson relaxed in the tub of warm water, torturing herself with those morbid thoughts of the past. She had been divorced six years now ... six long, lonely years without a man, without a love to keep her warm. She tried to blank her mind to all but the soothing water and the sounds of the gentle ripples against her, but her mind continued to dwell upon her long-gone husband. There had been many things wrong with Douglas as a man and a lover, but intuitively she realized that much of the blame had to rest on her own shoulders. Or rather, she thought with a grim little smile, between her legs. If only she could respond to a man the way a normal woman should! She had often allowed herself to imagine what it might feel like, letting a man make love to her willingly and enjoying it, wanting it ... needing it! Fantasy was wonderful because she could let herself go, dream anything she desired, and it never hurt the way reality did.
So as Shirley lay naked in the bath water, her mind began to recreate the scene vividly, and she could see herself in her mind's eye with Douglas again. As a camera might focus its lense on the prurient activities of their love-making, she began imagining what she and Doug would have looked like in bed together, a nakedly writhing, eager couple . . .
His thick, long penis was in view now, only this time she desired it inside of her. . .
Her stomach tingled with a series of fluttering sensations as the arousing images of her ex-husband making tender, desirable love to her filtered through her mind. Yes . . . Doug was on top of her, his naked body pressing down upon hers, his breath hot upon her face as his erect penis slid wetly up inside the warm, welcoming hole of vaginal flesh . . . Dreamily she allowed her mind to think of how it would feel, and feel it she did. She looked down at her breasts and saw their nipples growing hard, jutting up from the gently floating globes of her breasts like mountain peaks on some lonely Pacific atoll. A tender aching began between her legs from her imaginings, in spite of knowing she would experience horror and revulsion if it were truly happening to her again. She moved her hand from the side of the tub and touched her breasts, and the contact of her fingers intensified the throbbing in her vagina. Her entire body quivered beneath the tepid water . . .
"Ohhhhhh fuck me, darling. . . Fuck me, fuck me goooddddd..." Her mental pleadings reverberated through the sexually denied piano teacher, just as if she were actually saying them. "Yes, that's it. . . fuck me with that nice hard cock of yours, Douglas. . . fuck me the way I should be fucked. . .- ahhhhh!"
A wave of shame made Shirley flush a violent crimson. She recognized what was happening to her, knew that she was beginning to submit to the only form of sexual release she had ever been able to enjoy. She lifted her other hand from the edge of the tub and began to massage her breasts slowly and rhythmically. She knew it was sinful to masturbate, but what else could she do since she couldn't seem to respond to a man? Alone, without the fearful presence of a man and his full-sized penis, she could find satisfaction from the ever-present frustrations that would well up in her loins against her will. And when she was by herself, knowing she could safely drift into a dream world of fantasy, she could allow herself to let go of all her inhibitions and rejections . .. When she'd been married to Douglas and masturbated, or since then when overcome by her loneliness, she imagined as she was imagining now . . . that her fingers were a large penis instead, bringing her the wonderful sensations . . . Yes . . . There was only her urgency now, her need for release from the intense arousal of her body by the salacious dreaming of her mind's imagination . . .
Shirley arched her back, raising her hips off the tub bottom, her belly and the soaking curl-covered mound of her vagina out of the water. She braced her body by pressing the soles of her feet on the porcelain, and then lifted her left leg out of the water and hooked it over the side of the tub, opening wide the soft, fluted edges of her tremblingly eager cunt. Still she massaged her wildly throbbing breasts, teasing the nipples between thumb and forefinger until they throbbed like things alive.
She shivered in obscene delight as she continued to dream of Doug's full-sized cock possessing her instead of her hands . . . Yet still his penis was too large! Too much of an adult's! Slowly, even as she could imagine his large male erection throbbing inside the fleshy walls of her sensitive vagina, her brain began to change the image . . . alter it into a new, more erotic dream whose very depravity only stimulated her further . . . Now in her mind, Douglas' penis was becoming smaller . . . more slender ... safer . .. until she could imagine his stiffened thrustings up between her warmly wet thighs were with an erection the size of a teenager's hardened penis!
God! To dream of being fucked by a young boy! How utterly depraved of her! And yet, the very image of those slim hips driving a hard virile cock deep into her cuntal hole were tantalizingly arousing to her. It would be the way she could entirely give herself to her passions, for then she could no longer have to fear a giant hardness battering her defenseless flesh ... or dread the pain of a brutal man's attack. The lewd idea of an eager, inexperienced child half her age or less, bucking nakedly above her welcoming body excited her to a fever pitch, and she groaned in exquisite surrender to the salacious sensations suddenly burning through the raw nerve-endings of her flesh. God, it was so obscene! But what difference did it make? She wasn't really making love to a teenaged boy, only fantasizing about it, and that didn't hurt anybody ... ah ... a fresh adolescent was spearing his slender young cock deep up inside her moist pink cunt now, and it was feeling like heaven!
"Ohhhhhh, you little darling!" Shirley moaned out loud in the privacy of her bathroom, unable to stand it a second longer. Her right hand dropped down between her wide-splayed thighs, and she gentled her finger into the moist flesh. Oh, but the generated passions were so very soft, so very good! She manipulated the tender hairlined inner lips until she could feel them swelling with the rush of blood, and her clitoris rigid and tingling. Her index finger came into electric contact with the trembling little bud, and she began to gasp with total abandonment as she felt her orgasm beginning to approach. Her hips thrashed the bath water and her hand squeezed her breast, releasing it only to squeeze harder and her other hand rubbed faster and faster across her sensitive clit. Ohhhh, it was so exciting, to dream of being fucked half to death by a young teenaged boy!
Yes, yes . .. she could see him now, his taut, flat belly and hairless loins quivering with expectancy as he arched over her spread-eagled body. . . Yes, yes, and now his slender, immature penis was between her vaginal lips, pumping eagerly in and out of her cunt, and she was not afraid ... He was so innocent and naive, his undeveloped muscles straining from his newly-discovered sexual prowess. And she was teaching him, seducing him step by step with all the things Douglas had taught her with his big, heavy male body . .. giving the youth the lessons necessary to play her naked flesh as he would a musical instrument. . . ahhhhh, and the duet they could play together!
"Yes, darling child . .. Yes, sweet little one, fuck me, fuck me as I've always wanted ..." The moving picture in her mind of her adolescent lover drove her on heedlessly now, and she rocked in the tub, screwing her fingers deeper into her clasping cunt. She could mentally imagine the boy's slender erection butting maddeningly into her, sinking through her soft pubic hair in his burst of teenaged energy. And he would cum inside her belly, cum with his virile fresh semen ...
The older woman felt herself growing taut with impending orgasm. Her eyes tightly clenched shut, her cunt milking around her fingers as though they were her imaginary lover's youthful hardness, she masturbated harder and faster, waiting for him to cum .. . cum . . . cum . .. Then:
"Oh, Mrs. Jackson, I'm cumming now!" she could hear a high-pitched boy's voice cry out in her head. "I'm cumming!
And then Shirley was cumming! She was there, experiencing her orgasm like a woman possessed by a demon!
Her hips flailed frantically at the water, beating it to a froth as wave after wave of intense, bursting release seized her. Pin wheels of light in kaleidoscopic colors appeared in the back of her eyes and she stifled a cry of pleasure so acute as to be painful. Her orgasm burst inside of her, and then as it must, it began to recede. Her buttocks sank to the porcelain bottom of the tub and her hand finally stilled, though remaining across her cuntal valley. She lay there in the water, not moving, her eyes tightly shut and her chest rising and falling spasmodically, sanitity slowly filtering back to her mind. The images of her little lover faded away gradually, like wispy gossamers of obscene fog.
And in their place came the feeling of mortification. She hung her head, ashamed for her prurient actions. What on earth had taken hold of her senses to imagine a young boy naked and making love to her? But it was useless to chastise herself for her moment of weakness. She couldn't go back and erase the obscene and demoralizing thoughts of a child half her age mating with her. She would simply have to watch her thoughts more closely in the future, that's all ... But, she had to admit as she climbed out of the tub, the idea had been damnably arousing .. . !
Half an hour later, Shirley closed the door to her apartment and walked down the hall to the stairs. She felt invigorated and refreshed from her masturbation in the bathtub and she breathed the crisp spring air with a new lease on life.
A brightness and warmth lifted her spirits, and the recollection of her divorce from Douglas faded from her mind. Surely she would find a way to straighten out her problems and become a real woman and good wife for a man someday soon. And it would be for a man, not a teenager! Daydreaming while masturbating about having a boyish student make love to her had been wickedly exciting, but that was as far as it would go. She would never actually molest one of her own piano students, for example. Lord, what a lewd, immoral idea! It would, could not, ever happen!
Yet for some strange, inexplicable reason, the older woman found herself feeling a slight sense of uneasiness as she walked out of the apartment house to her car. Precisely because her newly discovered idea was so totally depraved and disgraceful, it seemed to tease her subconsciously ... to tempt her despite her firm and dedicated resolve . ..