"You know who I wanna fuck?"

Dave took a bite of pizza and made a yummy sound.

A bunch of us - Ron, Dave, Mark, Brett, Clancy, Byron, K.C. and I, all raised our eyebrows. We were hanging out at Ron’s after school and instantly the tide of the conversation had turned from cheap beer and pizza to more important matters.

"Who?" Ron asked.

Dave smacked his lips.

"Mrs. Jennings."

Ron let out a low whistle.

"Fuck, yeah." Clancy agreed.

Brett blushed. "Seriously? But...but she’s a teacher!"

Everybody laughed at him; the young, weak member of the herd. Mark sensed blood, and went for the kill.

"Brett, you must be a homo," he goaded.

"What? No I’m not!" Brett whined.

"Virgin?"

Brett’s cheeks turned flaming red, but he kept quiet; all but admitting to the damning accusation. Mark grinned happily. Brett Baiting was his favorite past-time, and Brett rarely failed to supply fresh material for him.

"’Cause if you wouldn’t fuck Mrs. Jennings, you’re either that or a fag."

"Shut up!"

"’She’s a teacher,’" Mark mimicked. "I’d never fuck a teacher!’" He turned back to Dave and threw his two cents into the conversation. "She’s hot. But you know who’s got better tits? Mrs. Carmichael."

"Oh God, yeah," said Clancy. "Nice ass too. What about you, Ron?"

Ron thought about it. "I dunno. I like my women skinny. Mrs. Carmichael’s a little too thick for me. I think Mrs. Daly’s kinda cute; she’s got that sweet little ass, I’d just like to grab on and..." Ron wrapped his hands around an imaginary ass and fucked the air. "I’d fuck her for hours, man."

We all agreed on that one.

"Yeah," nodded K.C. "Dave and I have her for third-period Lit." He giggled and poked his hands out of his t-shirt, like he had boobs. "The air-conditioning in her room’s fucked up. It’s stuck on, so it’s always freezing in there. Her nipples are always poking out through her shirt."

"They look like they could poke out your eyeballs." Dave mimed one of Mrs. Carmichaels’ tits jabbing him in the eye.

Everybody laughed again. Even Brett.

"I’d do Mrs. Gray," said Byron.

Dave scrunched up his nose and scowled. Mark and K.C. looked stumped.

"Who?"

Byron grinned, his white teeth flashing against his dark face. "You all will never guess."

"The old cranky bitch in the office?" Dave looked mystified. "The one you said you’d give me a dollar if I could get her to smile?"

"Yep." Byron grabbed his crotch. "I’d get her to smile. I got her smile right here. Know what I mean? Har, har, har!"

Light dawned in Mark’s eyes. "The Attendance Nazi?"

Byron was pretending to slurp boobage. "Nobody said you gotta like the bitches to fuck ‘em. Mrs. Gray’s got those great, big - POW! - titties, man. I’d get on up behind that fat old ass, grab on ’ta them titties, and - BAM!" He pounded the air with his hips. "Hate fuck th’ old cooze. Right there at the counter."

"Bet’cha that’s why she’s there." Mark said.

Byron pumped away. "What’cha mean, man?"

"You never see her or Principal Nelson around during the afternoon, do you? I bet he keeps her there, just to fuck her during lunchtime."

We all cracked up.

"Yeah," agreed Clancy. "He’s probably like, ‘Mrs. Gray, pardon me, but can you step into my office for a moment?’, and she’s like, ‘Why Mr. Nelson, of course.’ And then he makes her suck him off under his desk, saying shit like, ‘You like my big, donkey-dick, don’t you Mrs. Gray’. And she says more shit back, like, ‘Mrghphrn, mh-hmm’, while she’s busy bouncing her head up and down." He bobbed his head, poking his tongue into his cheek and made wet smacking sounds with his lips.

K.C. chimed in. "And then he spooges all over her wrinkly tits, and tells her to go back to work and yell at all the crummy teenagers."

Ron laughed so hard, I thought he was gonna puke all over the pepperoni. Dave turned to me and grinned.

"You’re awfully quiet, Dev. You used to get all the pussy you wanted, with Cara an’ all. But who’d you fuck now, if you got the shot?"

I felt a slow grin spread across my face, and I looked at each of the guys before answering.

"That’s easy. Ms. Bell."

"What?" Ron asked.

"Seriously?" Chimed in Brett.

I nodded, my smile getting bigger.

"The French teacher?" asked Byron

"Yeah. Well, my Spanish teacher now."

Mark started laughing.

"The Bride of Frankenstein?"

He wasn’t kidding. Ms. Bell was kinda weird.

She insisted on the kids in her classes calling her Ms . Bell (‘NOT Mrs.!’), or by her first name: Linda. She was pale enough to make me think she never stepped outside; and the pancake makeup, black eyeliner and bright red lipstick she favored contrasted with her curly, jet black hair, which she wore piled up in mounds on top of her head. And she was really tall; even taller than most of the guys on our school basketball team.

I had the hots for her because she always wore either full-length dresses or tight skirts with nice, silky blouses, black stockings and ‘fuck-me’ heels. For some reason, she always looked really sexy to me. Maybe it was because I got off on old monster movies. I dunno.

I took two years of French with her. Both my freshman and sophomore years.

And I sucked. To this day, I can’t speak a fucking word of French. But I have to give Ms. Bell credit; she worked her ass off with me. She made time for me after school, and somehow I managed to pass her class both years. And all those hours after school, sitting next to her, smelling her perfume, watching her luscious ass wiggle when she wrote on the chalkboard, listening to her speak the ‘language of love’ (as my mom called it), well...

Somewhere during those two years, I guess I developed a schoolboy crush.

So when my counselor, Mrs. Neidermeyer, told me that I had to take another language credit if I wanted to graduate, I remembered all those afternoons spent trying to catch quick, tantalizing glimpses of Ms. Bells’ bra or the soft skin between her breasts.

I told Mrs. Neidermeyer that I liked Ms. Bell. That was exactly how I said it. And she replied that Ms. Bell was teaching both French and Spanish this year. I could choose one of her classes, or I could try one of the other two languages the school offered.

I had a choice.

I absolutely didn’t want to suffer through another year of French, and no way was I going to try Japanese, so it boiled down to picking between the German class, with old Mr. Bromberg (and his halitosis and dandruff), or Ms. Bell and Spanish.

My girlfriend - Cara - took German the year before, and told me that after the second month they weren’t allowed to speak any English in class at all.

Fuck that. It wasn’t a hard decision to make.

Unfortunately, I sucked almost as badly with Spanish as I did with French. Fortunately, they were similar enough and I seemed to have retained enough from my French classes that I was muddling through. And Ms. Bell seemed really excited to see me back, and offered to help me out again if I needed it.

This year, one of the football jocks started calling her ‘the Bride of Frankenstein’ after she came to school with a white, wavy streak that ran right up the side of her head, all the way through her thick black hair.

The nickname stuck, and now all the kids whispered it behind her back. She’d earned a couple other names, too. But I still got a huge fucking boner whenever she smiled at me.

Anyway... back to the discussion in progress.

"The Bride of Frankenstein?"

Everybody was staring at me like I’d snotted a baseball out of my nose.

"Yeah." I said.

"Seriously?"

Brett again. Mark hucked a beer at me.

"No fuckin’ way!"

I grinned at the guys and cracked the beer. Dave was staring at me, openmouthed.

"You’re serious!"

"Yup."

He squinted at me and cocked his head. Ron caught the meaning in my grin too.

"You... you didn’t fuck her. Did you?"

I raised my beer in a toast, and everybody exploded with questions.

"Don’t lie to me, motherfucker." Dave was grinning from ear to ear. "You’re telling me you fucked Vampira?"

That was another one of her nicknames, and just as appropriate as ‘the Bride of...’.

I shrugged and smiled.

"This I gotta hear."

They all leaned in closer. So I took a long sip, savoring the moment, and swished the cold beer around in my mouth.

I gave them the short version. The one designed to impress teenage boys.

Some things aren’t meant for even your closest friends to know. Not all of this story, anyway.

My fucked up, senior year sex life.

So here it goes. The whole story.

It started on a Friday afternoon at the beginning of the school year, right after the last bell of the day.

I had Spanish for my last class, and I’d said goodbye to Ms. Bell and met K.C. in the hall.

We walked to our lockers together. I was idly spinning the dial on mine, waiting for Cara to pop by before her mom picked her up. K.C. was noisily listening to his walkman at the locker next to mine, jamming out to some serious funk, dancing and singing out loud, when Cara walked up and kissed me on the cheek.

"Seriously?" I knew that I sounded like Brett, but I didn’t care. I had my pride, after all, and I wasn’t going to take this lying down. "You’re breaking up with me to go out with Keith?"

I wasn’t yelling yet, but I was close.

"I can’t fucking believe this."

I knew Keith, a little. He was a big dork who kinda ran in our circle of friends, but way out on the edge. Right now, he was hanging out with the jocks and the cheerleaders down the hall, waiting for Cara to finish up with me, I guess.

"Look, don’t be mad. I don’t want to do this either, Dev."

Yeah, sure. She didn’t look upset about this at all. In fact, she looked almost happy .

"But he’s a really nice guy."

Keith was busy scamming one of the cheerleaders, slobbering all over the front of her sweater.

"Cara, he fucking drools ."

Cara rolled her eyes at me.

"Don’t be such a baby."

"I hear he’s got a really big dick, too." K.C. had turned his walkman down to a dull roar when he noticed I was getting worked up. "That wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it? Hmmn?"

"Fuck you, K.C."

I grinned maliciously at my buddy.

"Are you saying she’s breaking up with me ‘cause I’ve got a little dick?"

He shrugged into his coat and started stuffing homework into his backpack.

"Nope. Never. Uh-uh. No way. Why would I say something like that? You hurt me with your huge man-meat everyday after gym. Heh."

K.C. cracked up, trying to smooch me. Then he pinned me to my locker and started dry-humping my leg.

"Oh baby, oh baby!" He cackled.

"Knock it off!" I laughed, trying to push him off me.

"You jerks. Shit. Sorry I even tried." Cara threw up her hands and stomped away.

She ignored the cheerleaders glaring at her and grabbed Keith by the arm, dragging him in her wake.

"Ahh. Don’t worry. She’s a dumb twat anyway." K.C. watched her go, and then slapped my back. "Who needs a drink?"

I sighed. "She was my dumb twat."

Cara jumped up on Keith’s back. He ran down the hall, slobbering and giggling like a girl, with her bouncing on his shoulders.

"Not anymore." He turned and zipped the backpack.

"Kinda harsh, man."

I glared at my friend and he shrugged. "It’s a harsh world, Dev. Looks like somebody wants to talk to you." He was staring over my shoulder when a silky smooth female voice startled me.

"Devin?"

I jumped, and turned to find Ms. Bell standing right behind me, smiling.

"Oh, Jeez." I grinned up at her.

In her heels, the top of my head was barely even with the tip of her nose. And I wasn’t a small kid. She looked nice today, kinda sexy, dressed in a tight black skirt that was slit a little way up her thigh, and a sheer, low-cut white blouse.

I tried not to stare at the lace from her bra, just poking over the top of her blouse.

"Could I borrow you for a little while? Maybe half an hour?" She asked. "I need help moving some boxes for tomorrow."

"Uh, sure. I guess so." I looked over at K.C..

"Have fun," he adjusted his earphones, cranked up the volume on his stereo and left me alone in the hall with one of the scariest teachers in school, just minutes after my girlfriend of the last three months, two weeks and four days left me hangin’ and ran off with the Drooler.

How fortunes turn.

"It’s this way," Ms. Bell said over her shoulder. I followed just a little behind her, so I could watch her juicy ass swish in her skirt. "You don’t know how much I appreciate the help. These boxes are really heavy, and the supply guy always sticks the ones I need on the very top shelves."

She turned a little when she spoke, and I snapped my gaze up to her face. She caught me looking, I think, but she smiled and I blushed a little.

"Here we are."

She stopped by the door to a storeroom that was a couple halls over from my locker and picked through a batch of keys. She unlocked the door and ushered me inside. The door shut behind us with a click, and I could hear her breathing next to me in the dark.

I took a long, slow breath of my own, smelling her sweet perfume. Memories of all those days sitting alone with her in class came rushing back. Then she swore and I heard something heavy fall over.

Then the lights went on.

We were in a small room lined from the floor to the ceiling with shelving overflowing with boxes of school supplies. Ms. Bell grinned at me and pointed at a light hand-truck leaning against the wall.

"We’ll put the boxes on that, so you don’t have to carry them."

"Okay."

She pulled out a stepladder and climbed up, balancing on her tippy-toes. Her high heels made her a little wobbly as she stretched out and tugged on a cardboard box.

I couldn’t understand how she could walk in those things, much less stand on a ladder, but she managed it. From my view, her long legs seemed to go on forever, and I stood like an idiot, watching. The hem of her blouse pulled out of the band of her skirt as she stretched and pulled, and I was treated to a nice, if quick, glimpse of her soft, creamy white belly.

She managed to lever the box off the shelf, and almost dropped it on my head. Somehow I managed to catch it; a feat that was just as impressive as her climbing the ladder in her heels. Her hands flew to her mouth with equal parts concern and embarrassment.

"Oh, God! Devin, I’m sorry! Are you okay?"

I plopped the box on the floor next to the hand-truck and shoved it into place with my foot.

"Yeah..." I grunted. "I’m fine. Are you sure you don’t want me to do that instead?"

She was already busy tugging on another box.

"I...think...I’m okay..."

By the time I’d dropped the first box on the hand-truck, she was stretched out full-length, with one foot lifted off the ladder. Her shoe slipped off her foot and dangled from her toes, and she grunted as she pulled and wiggled the box, trying to slide it to the edge of the shelf.

"I’ve...uff...had to do this...by myself...uff...for the last...uhhff...few weeks..." She gave the box a good, hard tug, and her hands slipped. "Hooo...!"

The heavy box fell, almost knocking the ladder over. It teeter-tottered precariously one way, then the other, and she lurched backwards with her arms pin-wheeling for balance. I couldn’t reach the ladder in time to support her, and she slipped and fell, her arms spinning wildly.

Her ass smacked me dead in the face.

As I’ve said, I’m not a small kid, and I’m in pretty good shape. I’ve been on the varsity wrestling team since my freshman year, and I work out or play basketball almost every day. But the impact of her butt mashing into my face snapped my head back, hard.

"Ooomph!"

Somehow, I managed to catch her around her waist and let her slide - slowly - down. She ‘ooophed’ too, and when she was safely on the floor, I held her still until she got her breath back. I tried to block out the pain that was shooting back into my skull from my nose, but I knew there were tears in my eyes when she finally turned around.

"Oh, God! Devin! Are you okay? You’re bleeding!"

She touched the tip of my nose, softly, with her fingertip. I jerked my head away and hissed in pain.

"I’m fine. Really. Just...don’t do that again."

I gently ran my hand over my nose. It was tender and swelling and my eyes were still watering, but nothing felt broken or dislocated.

I’ve had a few accidents during my wrestling career, and this wasn’t bad.

I could live with having her butt shoved into my face.

"Are you sure? I heard you grunt like..."

"No, really. I’m okay." I wiped the blood away and pushed her back at arms length, in case she got any other ideas. "How about you?"

She looked herself up and down, and nodded.

"I’m all right."

"Good," I said, and started up the ladder. The damn thing never tipped over. "My turn now. Just stand back and I’ll finish getting this loaded up." I yanked the crummy box of the shelf and walked back down the ladder. "How many of these do you need?"

Five heavy boxes later, I parked the hand-truck in her classroom and left the boxes next to her desk.

"That’s perfect," she said. "Here."

She gave me the keys to the storage room and I took back the truck while she started unpacking. By the time I got back to her room, she was working on the second box.

"Ms. Bell? Is there anything else I can do for you?" I asked, dropping her keys on her desk. "It’s kinda late, and I think I missed my bus. I should probably get going."

She looked up from the mountain of packing Styrofoam and smiled, gracing me with a great tit shot, right down her blouse. I couldn’t help staring. Her breasts jiggled in her bra as she dumped the static-sticky little peanuts into a big plastic garbage bag. They were a lot bigger than I’d thought.

This time I was sure she caught me looking.

"Linda. Please. We’ve known each other long enough that you can call me Linda. ‘Ms. Bell’ is starting to make me feel old, like I’m the goofy old neighborhood lady who lives in the big, creepy house with a dozen cats and talks to herself." She laughed self-consciously, like she knew what kids said about her, and held up the bag. "Here. If you help me unpack this stuff, I’ll give you a ride home."

"Really?"

"As long as you don’t mind riding with your teacher."

"Sure, okay." I said, my eyes threatening to drift back down to her cleavage. I half-wished she’d sit up, but my dick informed me that I was an idiot to ever think that, and advised me to enjoy the view.

I think she eyed my bulging crotch - just for a second - and smiled before going back to work.

 

About forty-five minutes later, we pulled up to the curb in front of my house in her old VW beetle.

It was still light out, and warm, but the leaves were turning gold and crimson and air had the crisp feel of fall. She hunched down, leaned over me and peered out of the passenger window to admire my house. My dick almost ripped out of my jeans, and I literally got dizzy as the blood drained from my head. Her soft hair brushed my chin as I opened the door and stepped out.

"See you Monday Ms. Bell." Somehow, I managed a weak smile.

"Linda."

I grinned and my dick twitched like a snake that’s just had its head chopped off.

"Right. Sorry." I agreed. "Linda."

"Thanks again Devin. Sorry I squished you."

I wanted to climb back into her car and tell her that she could squish me anytime she wanted. But instead I blushed and shut the car door.

She waved and I stepped back onto the sidewalk.

I live in an older neighborhood, full of big, old bungalows and Victorians. Our house is on a corner lot at the bottom of a hill. Just a few blocks away there’s an elementary school with a big public park, and a popular golf course that takes up several city blocks.

The mother of one of my old friends appeared at the top of the hill, just as Linda beeped her horn and turned the corner.

I met John and his little brother Steve at the park when I was five. My family used to live right across the street, and one day I was there, swinging, when John shoved his brother off the merry-go-round. His mom, Ingrid, yelled and punished him, and John shuffled dejectedly over to the swings.

We were the same age, and we were instant buddies.

Eventually my family moved, buying a house just two doors down from John and his folks.

John’s family, I discovered, were a little odd. They were the family that everybody else in the neighborhood talked about in hushed tones.

John’s dad just never spoke.

At all.

Both he and John’s mom were fitness fiends. Whenever I saw John’s dad, he was working out. Once, John showed me an old trophy that he claimed his dad won at a bodybuilding competition back in the seventies, and a blurry, black and white photo of a huge, muscle-bound guy that didn’t look anything like his dad.

John’s mom was from Germany. She and his dad met mountain climbing in Switzerland, and she moved back here with him after she got pregnant. She was a nurse in Germany, but had an awful time finding work here.

They had a lousy marriage.

I think John was about seven when they divorced. His dad kept the house here, and she took the kids and moved back home.

A few years later (for some reason John could never figure out), they moved back, and John’s dad moved out. This time, Steve went to live with his dad. But John stayed with his mom, and he quickly turned into a thug.

John inherited his dad’s thick, muscular build and his mom’s height. By the time he was twelve he probably stood around six feet tall, and he was already into some serious drugs. That was when he started hanging out with a really rough crowd. He barely made it through his freshman year, and things just got worse, especially with his mom nagging him all the time. When he started ripping off cars and stealing to support his habit, we pretty much stopped hanging out.

He spent a lot of time in juvie, and his mom spent a lot of time crying, wondering what she did to turn him into the big, violent creep he was becoming.

My mom was always nice to Ingrid (unlike most of the other people who lived in the neighborhood), I think partly because she felt bad for her. She always called her Inga. To this day, I think I’m the only person outside of her family who knew her first name.

Ingrid had few things in common with her ex-husband, as far as I could tell, except for their kids and excercise. She never failed to take a long walk every night around six or seven o’clock, when it started to cool down. Over this last summer, I usually saw her leave the house dressed in a little tank top, satin running shorts and tennis shoes. She wasn’t a pretty woman, really, but striking. She was tall, lean and long, graceful, and she carried herself with kind of a regal bearing, which is one reason I figured the neighbors didn’t like her; I think she threatened them. She wore her light blonde hair unflatteringly hacked off just above her shoulders, and always had a dissaproving, pinched look to her face, like she’d just tasted something sour.

I never noticed any effort by her to appear feminine or attractive.

But over the summer, the sun had turned her freckled skin a nice, golden brown, and her hair almost glowed with light blonde streaks. The pale blue satin shorts she wore on her walks emphasized the smooth muscles in her butt, legs and calves. And today, instead of her usual tank top, her perky breasts were packed into a white sports bra. Her footie-socks had little balls of blue cotton that bounced at the back of her sneakers as she loped down the hill towards me.

"Devin!" She greeted me with a smile and stopped to watch Linda drive away. "Who was that?"

"One of my teachers. I stayed late today to help her with some stuff, so she gave me a ride."

"That was nice of her," she said.

"Yeah. Hey, how’s John?" I asked.

She frowned. Her German accent was thick when she finally answered.

"Johnny...Johnny was arrested again."

I didn’t know what to say to that. John had been arrested continuously over the last few years.

"Really? I’m sorry."

"He’s going to be sent to jail for...for a long time, I think. He..." she swallowed; her thin lips trembled as if she were fighting back tears. "He was caught stealing a car, and he was full of the drugs. He fought a policeman! Did I raise my sons to be like this? To have no respect?"

I didn’t know what to say, so I shrugged. "I’m sure he’ll be okay, Ingrid." Somehow, that seemed to calm her down. She sniffled and smiled at me.

"After, he doesn’t want to come back home. H says he’s going to live with his father, just like Stephen. I’ll never see my boys again." She sniffled again and wiped her eyes. "You’re a good boy, Devin. I wish my Johnny would’ve been more like you."

I felt sorry for her. I think she tried to be a good mom. For some reason, I gave her a hug, and she collapsed against me and bawled like a baby on my shoulder.

"It’s all my fault," she sobbed. "I...I don’t know what to do..."

"I’m sorry..." I said, and rubbed her back. I felt her shoulder blades under her shirt, felt her body trembling against me, and I started to get horny. My dick slowly pushed out of the top of my jeans, and I tried to back my hips away from her so she wouldn’t notice my boner.

Eventually, she cried herself out.

She wiped her eyes, smiled, and gave my cheek a little kiss.

My dick throbbed.

"Johnny’s going to be home this weekend to pack his things. You should come and have dinner with us and help me say goodbye."

"Oh. Well. I don’t know..." I shuffled my feet and tried to back out of this as gracefully as I could.

"Please? You’re my Johnny’s best friend. I...I don’t think I can..."

She started to cry again. I took her by the shoulders and gave her a little smile.

"Okay. Sure. I’ll be there. When?"

She sniffled again. "Tomorrow? I’ll send Johnny by?"

"Sure. Sounds good."

"Thank you. Thank you, Devin."

She smiled happily, and I swear, she almost skipped home.

I exhaled with a whoosh.

"The shit I get myself into." I laughed at myself, and went inside to jack off.

That afternoon I told my folks what was going on, and they both wished me luck. Ingrid’s an awful cook besides being a health fiend, and I’ve suffered through many an interesting meal over at John’s.

He used to live to spend the night at my house, just so he could eat normal food.

The first time he stayed with us, he ate two boxes of Fruity Puffs and a dozen donuts in one sitting. And God bless my mom. John loved her, partly because she always covered for his sugar high when he went home to soybean pancakes and tofu bacon.

Needless to say, I was not looking forward to dinner.

John ambled over around six o’clock. His eyes were puffy red slits and I could smell the pot cloud that surrounded him as soon as he stepped through the door. Having been a hippy in the sixties, my mom wasn’t a fool about drugs. She wrinkled her nose when John gave her a hug hello, but she smiled and they talked for a few minutes.

"Well. You take care John." She said, finally. I wanted to get going and get this over with.

She patted my shoulder and gave me an encouraging smile.

"Enjoy dinner."

"S’up, Dev?" John bopped my fist.

I shook my head.

"Not much."

What the hell do you say to a guy who you haven’t seen in three years, a day before he goes to jail? Have fun? Write soon?

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure. What?"

He squinted at me and lit a cigarette.

"What the fuck did you say to my mom yesterday?"

"Huh?" I didn’t know what he was talking about.

"She’s all dressed up, like the fucking mom in Leave It to Beaver, dancing around the house with this shit-eating grin on her face. It’s like I’m going off to college instead a’ jail." He took a deep drag and puffed out a swirling ring of smoke. "So what the fuck did you talk to her about, dude?"

"Nothing. I just stood there. She talked. She was upset about you."

He shook his head and took another deep drag, flicking ashes into the breeze. His cigarette was already half gone.

"Crazy."

We reached his house just as it was getting dark. John reached over and unlatched the gate to their driveway. The gate swung in with a squeal, and we stood outside while he finished his smoke.

"You ready for dinner?"

I grinned. At least we still had this in common.

"I dunno. What’s cooking?"

He grinned back, dropped his smoldering butt on the cement and ground it out with the toe of his boot.

"Some nasty shit." He sighed. "You’d think I could at least get a real fuckin’ dinner on my last night here."

He clapped me on the shoulder.

"C’mon in. I’ve still gotta pack up some stuff. We can toke out for a while ‘till the shit’s ready."

The side door opened onto a landing which led in two directions: downstairs, where John’s dad used to keep his weights, and up a few steps to a swinging door and the main floor of the house.

John hopped up the steps and smacked the door open.

"Hey, Ma! Devin’s here!"

He led me down a short hallway, and whispered, "Check her out."

I peeked around the corner. Ingrid was in the kitchen, a daisy-decorated potholder pulled over her hand, bent over the open stove, giving me a nice view of her ass.

John wasn’t kidding.

Ingrid was wearing a black dress with a full skirt that was a good thirty years out of fashion, with black stockings and heels. She’d curled the tips of her hair, and a string of tiny pearls gleamed around her neck. I could see a matching set of earrings under her bobbed hair. She stood up and almost floated over to me, her skirt swirling around her long legs. She gave me a bone-crushing hug, and a flowery perfume over-powered the rancid smell of whatever was cooking in the stove.

She saw me and broke into a giddy smile.

"Devin! I’m so glad you could come tonight!"

John rolled his bloodshot eyes and I stiffly patted her back.

"C’mon, Mom. Let Dev go. We’re gonna head upstairs ‘till dinner’s done, okay?"

Ingrid let me out of her clinch, and grinned.

"Good, good. Dinner will be ready soon."

"Cool. C’mon up, Dev."

I followed John up to his room. He pushed open his door and crashed on his filthy bed. I settled into the captain’s chair by his battered old desk while he lit up a huge bong and took a hit. The aroma didn’t smell like pot to me, but I guessed that I could of been mistaken; it’d been a long while since I’d smoked anything.

"See what I mean?" He grunted, and offered me a puff.

I took a nice long hit, held the smoke in for a second, and coughed.

"Yeah."

Definitely not pot. Whatever it was though, it was nice and smooth.

John opened a window and waved for the bong.

"Should you be doing that?" I asked. "I mean, y’know, since you’re..."

"Going to jail?" He grinned and puffed away. "Shit. What’re they gonna do, bust me again?"

I shrugged and looked at the bong.

"What is that stuff?"

He kicked off his shoes.

"Hash."

My eyes popped open.

"S’matter? Don’t you like it?"

I was already feeling pretty good.

"It’s...it’s not bad."

He blew smoke out the window and laughed.

"What?"

He laughed harder.

"I bet you could fuck her."

"Who?"

"My mom."

He must be stoned, I thought, and giggled.

"No way."

John rolled over on his back and pillowed his head in his hands. He grinned at me and wiggled his feet.

"Yeah. I bet you could. She’s got the fuckin’ hots for you, dude. That’s probably why she’s all dressed up."

"Naw."

"Think about it. She’s wearing fucking nylons, man. I haven’t seen her dressed like this since... since..." He stared at the ceiling, trying to remember. "Fuck. Forever, dude. I think I remember her an’ my dad going out to dinner once when I was little. For an anniversary, maybe? I dunno. It’s been a long fuckin’ time."

"Quit shitting me."

"I’m not. You know what?" He grinned and hiccupped. "She’s got some nice titties."

I felt my eyes bug out, and my jaw dropped.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"No, seriously. Dude, I’ve seen her when she gets out of the shower, after she gets back from her walks. She’s got nice tits. Her ass is okay, too." He laughed again. "You thinkin’ she doesn’t shave?"

I blinked at him. "What?"

He shrugged. "Well, y’know. She’s German an’ all. But she shaves her pits and her legs. Really. I know her face’s butt-ugly, but you could just bend her over the counter and..."

Just then, a soft knock at the door. I pushed the bong behind my chair as Ingrid poked her head into the room.

"Dinner’s ready! Why don’t you boys wash up?"

John was giggling so hard he couldn’t talk, so I piped up.

"We’ll be down in a minute."

Ingrid smiled happily and we heard her heels clicking down the wood stairs.

"She’s not that ugly..." I started, and John burst out laughing.

"HA!" His feet flopped around. "You would fuck her!"

"John, she’s your mom, man. What the hell are you talking about?"

A light went on behind his bleary eyes.

"Dude! I know! Here, I’ll get something to help you."

He rolled back over and slid off his bed. There was a small door next to his desk that led to a storage area that ran along the entire side of the house. When we were kids, it was our secret agent hide-out. For the last few years, John used it to hide his stash.

"Here," he said, and shoved a big, folded cardboard box at me.

I opened it up.

"Holy crap. John."

"I’m not gonna need any of that shit for a while. It’s all yours."

"Look man, I can’t..."

"Yeah, yeah. Yeah you can. Use it to fuck her. There’s at least a years worth of acid and a bunch of other shit in there. Some dude gave me a ton of that date rape drug too. Where the fuck did I put it..."

He dug around in the box and pulled out blotters of acid, little packets of stuff that looked like sugar, and baggies of white powder and pot. He found a packet of the sugary stuff, shook it and stuffed it in his pocket, grinning wickedly.

"That should do it. C’mon. We’ll get her fucked up. If we’re lucky, we won’t even have to eat the crap she made."

He scrambled up.

"You’re gonna drug your mom." I shook my head.

"Yep. And we’re gonna screw her."

"What? You..."

"Dude. I’m horny. Pussy’s pussy. And I ain’t gonna be gettin’ any for a long fucking time."

I sat there with the open box in my lap.

"C’mon Dev. Let’s go."

Ingrid fussed as we got ready to eat.

"Johnny, you sit here, and Devin, you sit there..."

John got the chair at the head of the table. His mom sat to his right, across from me. She spread her napkin in her lap and smiled at me, then bent her head to say grace. I watched John roll his eyes and whisper obscenities at her until she finished.

She looked up and smiled. The table looked as dressed up and ready for a formal party as she did.

"Okay. Johnny, will you serve us, please?"

John grinned at me.

"Yeah, sure mom." He picked up a large, covered serving dish, and paused. "Hey, mom, could you get me one of those big fork things?"

"Oh." She looked around the table. "I thought I laid out..."

"Nope."

"I’ll be right back."

She left her napkin and walked back to the kitchen. John pulled out the little packet from his pocket and tore it open, then dumped the powder into her glass of water.

"John!" I whispered. "Shit! Don’t..."

He grinned and held his finger up to his lips, then used it to stir her water. He gave me a thumbs-up, and pulled a serving fork out from under the table.

"Hey, mom! I found it!"

Ingrid clicked back in from the kitchen.

"It was here all the time."

He pulled the cover off the platter and wrinkled his nose. Steam rose from what looked like dirt brown sawdust that had been formed into something resembling pork chops.

"Smells...good." My stomach flip-flopped when John handed me my plate of...stuff. "What, uh, what’s for dinner?"

Ingrid beamed.

"Soy steaks. I know you boys like meat, but it’s so bad for you. This is much better. It’s good food for you. It will help you be strong men. Don’t wait for me...go ahead." She waved her hands in the air. "Eat."

John was busy staring at his plate, poking at the brown crap with his fork. He looked as queasy as I felt. But I took a bite, and somehow managed to choke it down between gulps of water. I reached for the pitcher in the middle of the table and re-filled my glass.

"Whew!" Thank God John hadn’t poured the drugs into the pitcher. I was going to need a lot of water to get this shit down.

"Good, yes?" Ingrid took a dainty bite and smiled.

I was struggling to appear gracious in the face of desperation. So I hope I can be forgiven for forgetting about the drugs in her water, at least for the moment.

Ingrid reached for her glass and guzzled half of it before I could say anything.

John grinned at his plate of slop.

Nothing I can do now, I thought. So I crossed my fingers and tried the salad.

Halfway through the meal, she started to sweat.

"Oh, my." She dabbed at her forehead with her napkin. "It’s much too warm in here, isn’t it?

John looked up. Somehow he’d managed not to touch much of anything on his plate.

"It’s okay. You all right mom?"

She clutched the table and blinked at us.

"I...I don’t feel...very...well."

John pushed back his chair and stood up.

"Must be the dinner, mom. Spoiled soybean shit can fuck you up."

She was out of it.

"I feel so...odd...you shouldn’t talk like that...Johnny..."

John walked over to her as her head started to roll. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. Her eyes fluttered, and a thin line of spit drooled out of the corner of her mouth.

"I gave her enough to fuck her up for the rest of the night. Watch."

John smacked her face with the back of his hand, and she groaned.

"Shit! John, knock it off."

"She can’t even feel it. Here, let’s check her out."

He grabbed the front of her dress and yanked it open. He pulled the ripped material down to her waist, pinning her flailing arms to her sides.

I have to admit, I must’ve been really stoned to even think about going through with this shit. But when I saw her rosy, pink nipples behind the black lace of her bra, my dick about burst out of my jeans.

"See?" He leaned over, grabbed her tits and gave ‘em each a good squeeze.

He was right. They weren’t all that big, but they were a nice, firm handful. And perky.

"Move the shit on the table. I wanna lay her down."

I shoved plates and glasses out of the way, and John pulled his mom out of her chair and bent her face-first over her dining room table.

His breath hissed between his teeth as he rucked her skirt up over her hips.

"Gimme that knife."

"Wha...?"

"The sharp one. I’m gonna cut through this shit."

I handed him the knife and watched him slice a hole in his mom’s nylons, and then her panties. My chest hitched as he tossed the knife onto the floor and tore the hole wider, until her first her crotch was exposed, then her ass.

He leaned back and smacked it. I watched it jiggle as she moaned and clutched at her white linen tablecloth.

"Fuck. Look at that."

John glanced up at me, and his eyes were dead cold. He wrapped one hand around his mom’s neck and pinned her to the table, and dropped his pants with the other. His dick popped out of his boxer shorts, already red and swollen.

"Me first," he grinned, and then shoved his cock deep into his moms pussy.

Her eyes popped open, and she screamed silently, her fists knotting in the tablecloth. She kicked and squirmed; the toes of her shoes scraping on the wood floor, but John just grabbed her ass, pulled her closer, and closed his eyes.

"Awww, yeah."

I watched him dork his mom for a minute, my dick throbbing. She was making little mewling sounds, and her ass rippled with each of his thrusts.

And I decided: what the fuck, I wanted some, too.

So I climbed up onto the table, and pulled down my pants and my underwear. My cock fell on top of her head, and I grabbed her by the ears and pulled her face up so it was level with my dick. John grinned and grabbed her boobs to help prop her up. She swallowed and sputtered as I rubbed my dick around on her face, and her hands grabbed and clenched at my pants.

I squeezed her cheeks until her lips opened, and pushed myself into her warm, wet mouth.

"Ahhh...Damn, that feels good."

She kicked harder, but didn’t bite down. John was fucking her hard now, grunting and pounding into her. I relaxed and let my hips do the walking, feeling the muscles in her throat constrict as I eased further in.

Ingrid looked up at me with pleading, glassy eyes while we nailed her from each end. My balls twitched and clenched, and just that fast, I came in her mouth, shooting off a huge load.

"Fuck..." I whispered to myself, pulling her face as close to me as I could.

I enjoyed my orgasm, feeling her throat constrict as she tried to swallow my cum. A little bit of spooge dribbled out of her mouth and down her neck. Her hands were wrapped around my ass and her whole body was stiff with either pain or the drugs, I couldn’t tell which. I popped out of her mouth as John started smacking her ass.

"Goddamn fucking bitch!" He was screaming as he hit her, her ass quickly turning a bright pink. "Screw with me? You fucking bitch! Turn me in to the goddamn cops! Fuck you! Ghuhrrrhhhahh!!"

John grabbed her ass like he was trying to peel an orange, sinking his fingers deep into her soft flesh. I saw blood seep around his fingernails as her skin tore, and he jerked a few times, groaning like an animal. Then he shoved her body back onto the table and laughed.

"Oh, fuck! That felt so fucking awesome!"

His mom slipped off the table, smacking her chin on the edge as she fell. I heard her teeth clack together, and she fell in a heap on the dining room floor.

John laughed harder and stroked his dick. Ingrid absent-mindedly wiped the spooge and blood off her chin, and started crawling blindly towards the living room.

The sight of her hips up in the air sent my dick raging again, and I rolled off the table, right on top of her, shoving her into the floor. Because of her stockings, Ingrid’s feet couldn’t get any purchase on the smooth wood floor, and she scrambled, kicking and clawing, making her ass rub against my cock. I stretched out on her back, spit on my hand, then reached down and lubed up my dick. I pinned her down and let my penis slide around until I found her butthole.

She let out a hoarse scream as I wedged myself into her ass. A few good, hard pushes, and I was in, nice and snug.

John stepped around in front of her and sat on his butt, locking her arms under his knees and cradling her head in his lap. I wrapped my arms around her waist and started fucking her ass, slowly grinding my hips into her, taking my time. I let my hand drift down until I was cupping her pussy. Her pubic hair was soft and curly, and was so thick it felt like she never trimmed it. I toyed with her pussy until her clit poked against my probing fingers.

Ingrid stopped fighting, and I was surprised to hear her moan around John’s dick as it slid into her mouth.

The rest of the night, we took our time. Just two stoned, horny teenage boys, alone with a woman who we could do whatever we wanted to with. We fucked her for hours, finally calling it a night around two in the morning. Somehow the three of us ended up in the living room. John and I were completely naked. He was sprawled out on the couch, half asleep, and I sat on the floor with my head resting against the side of a chair. My dick was lying flopped over my thigh, scraped raw and stinging. Ingrid had passed out next to me with her head in my lap, her old dress and her underwear torn to shreds.

John was staring at her.

"You should probably head home," he said. "I’m gonna have to figure out a way to explain this shit to her when she sobers up."

He was right. How the fuck were we gonna explain all the bruises and cuts on her body? Or her clothes?

"How the hell are we going to do that?"

He shrugged.

"I dunno. But I’ll think of something. It’d probably be a good idea for you to leave though."

"But...I could..."

"What? Get arrested for raping my mom with me? No fucking way."

"John look..."

He tossed my shirt at me.

"Dev, really. Get dressed and go home."

I stood up and Ingrid’s head bonked on the floor. She just moaned in her sleep.

"And don’t forget the box." I shook my head, but he waved his hand at me. "I’m serious. If you get horny, use that shit. We always keep the basement windows unlocked. Just sneak in some night when she’s at work, drop some in her water or tea or whatever, and hang out for a while. If you wait long enough she’ll never know what happened, and you can get your rocks off whenever you want to." He yawned and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. "Hey. Promise me something?"

"Sure. What?" I pulled on my underwear and went looking for my pants.

"Be sure to tell me if you do it again. Cool?"

I nodded.

"Cool."

 

I didn’t see John again before he left. Or his mom. Somehow a rumor started making the rounds through the neighborhood that John had gotten stoned out of his mind and then beaten Ingrid up badly enough that she had to go to the hospital. I started feeling guilty as soon as I heard it from my mom.

To this day, I still don’t know how John feels about what we did.

And then Monday rolled around, and back to school I went.

My next week was pretty uneventful. I spent my lunch periods hanging out with my friends and avoiding Cara and Keith, who suddenly seemed attached at the hip. By Friday, I’d heard through the grapevine that Keith had already cheated on Cara with a couple of cheerleaders, and he was going to drop out of school and try to get a job as a bouncer at one of the underage strip clubs downtown.

Go Keith.

On friday afternoon, Ms. Bell corralled me after class and asked me to help her again.

I said sure. Why not?

Today she was wearing a dark blue blouse with shoulder pads and a tight, light grey skirt over the kind of black stockings with the little line running down the back of her legs. A fragile gold chain hung from her neck, dangling in her cleavage, and thin gold hoop earrings flashed when she turned her head.

I followed her back to the storeroom, the clicking of her high heels on the tile floor reminding me of Ingrid walking around in her kitchen. By the time she unlocked the door, I had a boner stretching out my pants.

My dick was so hard it hurt.

She brought out the ladder and started up again, but this time I stopped her with one of my hands on her arm, and my other around her waist.

"I don’t think so, Ms. Be...uh...Linda. Not like last week. Okay?"

She smiled.

"All right."

I filled up the hand-truck and hauled another batch of the heavy boxes to her room. We spent the next hour or two unpacking, and she told me stories about living in Europe while she was in college. Finally, I stood up and stretched, popping my back.

"Look," she said. "It’s dark again. Would you like another ride?"

The clock said six-thirty. There wouldn’t be another bus for at least half an hour.

"Sure. That’d be great."

"I have to run by my house first, if that’s okay."

I think I blushed. I know I smiled.

"Sure. No problem."

Linda lived a few miles from school in the opposite direction from my house, in a small apartment complex that had converted to condominiums. We pulled into the parking lot and she led me to a tidy, two floor condo. She unlocked the door and I followed her inside.

As soon as she opened the door, I heard the squawks. When she flicked on the lights, I found myself in a tiny living room, full of comfortable, feminine furniture. In a cage hanging from a metal post was a brilliant red parrot, who took one look at me and squawked again.

"Cutie-pie! Cutie-pie!" It climbed the bars of its gage and recited that phrase over and over, staring me up and down.

"He likes you," said Linda. "He doesn’t usually like men."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hmm." She held out a bag of sunflower seeds. "Here. Why don’t you feed him? He’ll love you forever."

I grinned and took a small handful of kernels from the bag. Then I thought of every parrot I’ve ever seen at pet stores. They always have some freaky sign taped to their cages, warning people to stay away or they’ll bite. I paused.

"How should I do this?

"Just move slowly, so you don’t scare him, and rest your hand next to his cage."

"Okay."

I pressed the side of my hand on the bars of his cage, with the seeds resting on my open palm.

"What’s his name?"

"Bert."

I laughed.

"Like..." I started.

"Ernie and."

She grinned back at me as Bert sidled closer to my hand. He looked at me sideways, ruffling his feathers.

"Cutie-pie!" He croaked, and gently nibbled at a sunflower seed, poking his sharp beak through the cage bars.

"Ernie lives with my sister in France." Linda watched Bert crack open the seed and discard the shell. "Sometimes Bert gets lonely here all by himself. Don’t you Sweetie-pie?"

She cooed at her bird, and he pressed the top of his head against the cage. She kissed him, and he bounced around, squawking happily.

"He likes to dance. See?"

"Cookie! Cookie for Bert!" He repeated, doing a little sidestep.

"Cute," I said.

Linda smiled at me.

"How would you like a quick tour?"

The place looked about as big as a shoe box. But why not?

"Uh, sure?"

She showed me her tiny kitchen and her dining room. Other than the living room, that was pretty much it for downstairs. Then she took me upstairs and showed me her office, which consisted of a nice old roll top desk with a comfy chair, a small home theater system and a couch that were tucked into the spare bedroom. There was a tiny bathroom by the stairs, and she almost - almost - let me peek in her bedroom.

"Oh, shit." She shut the door in a hurry. I barely saw a pink comforter draped over a large, neatly made bed. "Sorry. Too messy."

We stood in the hallway, inches apart, and a sudden, uncomfortable silence fell between us.

"Umm. So...so you live here all alone?" I asked.

"Yes. Well, usually. Except for Bert, I..."

A telephone rang in her study.

"Excuse me," she said, and left me alone to study pictures of her and another, younger woman, both bundled up for cold weather, smiling happily at the camera. I recognized the Eiffel tower in the background of a couple photos. The woman looked a little bit like Linda, but nowhere near as severe. I assumed it was her sister.

In the other room, I could hear Linda trying to pacify whoever had called.

"I’ll be right there, Mrs. Kline. In just a minute. I have a guest...No. It’s no trouble. Of course. I will. Bye-bye."

Linda hung up, and when she stepped out of the room she smiled like she was afraid I’d left while she was talking.

"I think I interrupted something important." I said.

"Oh no. That was Mrs. Kline. She lives next door. We usually have dinner together on Friday nights, because her kids can’t get here on the weekends. I told her I might be late tonight, but she was getting worried. I just need to run over there for a minute, and then we can go. Do...would you like to meet her? She’s really a sweet lady..."

"Actually," I hooked my thumb at the bathroom. "Would you mind if I use your restroom instead? I had a huge soda at lunch, and..."

She grinned.

"Go right ahead. I’m going to run over and take her some dinner, though. You don’t mind waiting for me?"

I shook my head.

"Not a bit."

She rustled around downstairs while I stood over the toilet. There was a fluffy pink seat-cover on the lid that kept knocking it closed, so I had to piss bent over, holding the stupid lid up.

I was shaking the last drops out when I heard the front door open, and Linda shouted up the stairs. "I’ll be back in a few minutes!"

"Okay!" I yelled back, then I buttoned my jeans and flushed the toilet. The house was quiet, and I started downstairs to hang out with Bert, but something stopped me after the first step.

There’s no way I can explain the urge that made me turn around and open her bedroom door.

But that’s exactly what I did.

I turned on the light and looked around.

Linda’s bedroom, like the rest of her house, was immaculate and girly; from the ruffled pink fringe on her bedspread to her choice of pictures to her antique furniture. But it was the roomiest room in the house, and it had its own bathroom that was decked out in more frilly pink.

"Looks okay to me," I said to myself. "I don’t see what the...problem...was..."

In the other corner of the room was a heavy wood contraption, pushed up against the wall.

"What the fuck...?"

I stepped over to it and ran my hand along the gleaming wood of the top bar.

"Holy shit."

Linda had a rack. A real life, straight out of the middle-ages, lock you up to punish you rack. Or a stockade, I guess.

Whatever.

The thing that you lock some poor idiots head and arms into, bending them over into a...uncomfortably compromising position.

You know what I mean.

"What the hell do you use this for, Linda?"

Backing away from her...torture device, I bumped into the corner of her dresser, knocking over some small framed photos.

"Shit!"

I straightened up, trying to put everything back in the same spots, and the urge hit me again.

"Let’s see what we’ve got in here."

I opened a drawer. Inside were carefully folded blouses, and a box of knickknacks.

Downstairs, Bert let out a squawk, and I almost jumped out of my skin. I shut the drawer and listened, my heart racing, but Bert quieted down.

"Shit," I said, sweating a little. I swallowed around a hitch in my throat, and tried another, smaller drawer. "Oh, yeah."

I found a drawer full of lacy underwear. I ran my hands over Linda’s panties, and I got an instant boner. I was having trouble breathing, and my hands started to shake.

"Oh, God."

Suddenly, all I wanted to do was jack off, right then and there. Taking a deep breath, I managed to pull myself back together.

First, I thought, ‘I gotta tell the guys about this’, but then I realized nobody’d believe me.

I needed a trophy, for proof. I almost just grabbed the first thing I saw, but some barely functioning part of my brain made me pull back my hand before I took anything.

"No. Not the stuff she wears."

Flipping through the stacks of bra’s and panties, I found a lacy black g-string crumpled into a ball way at the back of the drawer, and a matching, see-through, push up bra. I pulled them both out of the drawer, and shook them out.

I smelled them, inhaling deeply, then held them up to the light, letting them dangle in my hands.

They were so enticing; I almost forgot where I was.

Bert squawked again downstairs, and I jumped and shoved the undies into my pockets. I walked as quickly as I could to the door, but the house was still quiet.

"Fuck," I said, wiping my forehead. "Damn bird."

I knew I was pushing my luck and I was going to turn off the light and leave, but her closet caught my eye. I glanced over the railing at the front door, and decided to gamble.

"Let’s see what we’ve got in here..."

Linda had a typical walk-in closet, with sliding doors that pulled open. Dresses and a few tailored suits with matching skirts hung from a pole on one side, with her high heel shoes and a pair of running shoes lined up on the floor.

But the other side...

I whistled.

"Holy shit."

Hanging on the other side of the closet were uniforms: leather bondage gear, a French maid outfit, and a nurses uniform. Hung from a rack on the wall was a ton of S&M gear: leather masks, ball gags, whips and riding crops, handcuffs and padded leather shackles, dildoes of all sizes and shapes. Bottles of lubricant and a fishbowl full of condoms sat on a small dresser.

I blinked, and my mouth fell open. I picked up a pair of the heavy leather shackles. The long, thin chains tinkled. One of the dildoes had fallen off the tabletop, and I picked it up. It flopped over in my hand, and I looked at Linda’s bed, realizing that hidden under her sweet, girlie bedclothes was a sturdy steel bed frame and headrest.

"OhMyGod. She’s a fucking bondage queen."

I was so enthralled with my discovery that I hadn’t heard the front door open. I was standing there with her chains and her dildo when Linda stepped into the room.

"Devin?" The shock on her face almost made me drop the sex toys. "What are you doing?"

"I, uh...I just...found these..." I stuttered, and the big rubber penis flopped around again. I felt my face and neck burn and turn bright red.

Her face got hard and cold.

"Put those down right now. I’m taking you home."

 

That was the most uncomfortable car ride of my life.

Neither of us spoke. Linda stared straight ahead, her pale face flushed and both of her small hands gripped the steering wheel.

For the most part, I just tried to disappear into my seat. I cleared my throat once, and she clenched her teeth tight enough that the small muscles along her jaw popped.

I shut up the rest of the way home.

She squealed to a stop next to my house, and I tried to apologize.

"Linda, look, I’m sorry. I really didn’t..."

"Ms. Bell."

"Wha...oh. Okay. Ms. Bell, I’m s..."

"Get out of my car. Right... now...!"

"Please, I let m..."

"GET OUT!"

I got out.

As soon as I shut the door, she revved the noisy little engine, and then I was alone. Dejected, I stuck my hands in my pockets, and grinned when my fingers wrapped around my plundered trophies.

The next week was pretty rough.

Apparently Cara didn’t think I’d been fucked up enough after she broke up with me, so every chance she got, she made a point of flinging herself at Keith and shoving her tongue in his mouth.

That didn’t really piss me off, to tell the truth. It just got me a little queasy when the spit started dripping.

What did put a wrench into my day was looking forward to last period Spanish.

And Linda.

Linda - err, Ms. Bell - only spoke with me during class if she absolutely had to, and she wouldn’t look at me at all.

Something made me not tell the guys about my little discovery. I didn’t feel ashamed, really, or embarrassed. I think I felt disappointed. Like I’d teetered on the edge of a sexual revelation, and instead of falling in, I backed up.

I carried around her stolen panties with me, playing with them wherever I went. I couldn’t stop fantasizing about her, dressed up in her lingerie or her costumes, fucking me.

It was worse in class.

Every day I walked out of the classroom, reeling in pain from the continuous hard-on that would pop up as soon as I saw her. Jacking off brought no relief. And believe me, I tried.

When the last bell rang on Friday afternoon, I packed up my notebook and hurried the door with the rest of the spawn, holding my backpack over my throbbing groin. I tried not to meet Ms. Bell’s eyes and just get out as fast as I could.

"Devin. Please come here."

Oh shit, I thought. I’m in trouble.

She was leaning against the edge of her desk with her arms folded across her chest. As the last of the kids filed out, she smiled sweetly at me.

"You’re leaving?" She asked.

Hell, yeah. No reason to hang around here.

"I thought...I guess I didn’t think you’d want me to help after..."

She waved her hand.

"Those boxes are still much too heavy for me. Besides, you know what to do. We can finish faster if you’re helping."

"Well, okay, I guess. But I need to catch..."

She nodded, grinning.

"Your bus. I know. If it’s okay, I’m willing to give you a ride. We might be here a while later than usual tonight, though."

After not speaking to me for a week, she was suddenly a little too sweet. A tiny alarm went off in the back of my head. But she dropped her arms and gripped the side of the desk, leaning further back. I looked her up and down, and swallowed hard.

Today she was wearing a dress with a full length skirt. It buttoned up the front, starting around her knees and ending at a swooping neckline. She was wearing a pearl necklace that looked just like Ingrid’s'.

The sight of her cleavage when her body shifted caused my dick to short-circuit my brain.

"Okay. Cool." I said. "I, uh, I’m sorry about last week. I..."

She shushed me with a finger to my lips. When she smiled my dick throbbed in my pants, and my lips tingled where she touched me.

Then she put me to work.

She sat at her desk, and by the time we - I - finished, I was sweating like a pig.

"There." I said. "All done."

"Good. Let’s go."

The school was deserted except for a janitor sweeping a stairwell at the other end of the hall. When we stepped outside, stars were already twinkling and the moon lit our way as we walked to her car. She unlocked my door and then walked around to the drivers’ side, then she squeezed in next to me and handed me her purse.

"Hold this?"

"Okay."

It was late October, just a day shy of Halloween. The day had been sunny and warm, but now it was freezing out. She started the car and turned on the beetle’s heat.

"It’ll take a minute to warm up," she said, and pulled out of the school parking lot. Jack-o’-lanterns grinned at us from the porches of the houses as we drove by.

"What are you doing for Halloween? Are you going to any parties?"

I shook my head.

"No. I didn’t make any plans, after the other day...uh, you know...I guess I didn’t feel like doing much. My folks and my sister are gone for the weekend, so I was just gonna rent some movies and stay home." I glanced at her. "How about you?"

She licked her lips.

"I’ve made some arrangements."

"Huh?"

She looked at me and smiled. In the dark, her smile didn’t seem to reach her eyes.

"I’m having a party tomorrow night. How would you like to...be my date?"

I blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Would you like to go to my party? I think it will be fun."

I stared at her, no idea what to say.

"You’re kidding. Right?"

"No. Really. I’d like for you to be there."

My dick started screaming, ‘Say yes! You bonehead!’, so I said, "Sure. Okay."

She smiled. I was shocked enough that I didn’t notice where she was driving until she parked and cut the engine.

I looked around dumbly.

"Here we are," she said brightly.

"This...this is your house." I stuttered.

"Come on inside." She unsnapped her seatbelt, opened her door and stepped out of the car.

"But I..."

"Come on. I want to show you something."

"But..."

"Hurry. It’s cold."

She waited for me to get out and shut my door, and then she took my arm in hers and marched me to her porch. She jingled her keys, unlocked the front door and smiled at me. Bert greeted us as we walked in.

"Cutie-pie! Cutie-pie!"

Linda fed him a sunflower seed.

"He’s been asking about you all week. You must have made an impression on him."

"I...guess so." I said, and frowned. "Is that what you wanted to show me?"

Linda shook her head, unbuckled the belt around her waist and slipped out of her coat. She laid it over the back of her couch, walked back to me and stopped just inches away. I could feel her breath on my face.

"You did something very bad the other night." She said, and laid her hands on my chest.

A tingle shot through my body when she touched me, and I knew she could see the bulge in my pants. I swallowed around a lump in my throat, and my voice sounded suddenly hoarse.

"Yeah, I know. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have gone in your room, but..."

She was tracing a little zigzag patter on my chest with a long, red fingernail.

"But you were intrigued."

"Yeah. I guess so..."

She edged even closer and looked down into my eyes. God, she was tall.

"Did you...like what you found?"

I couldn’t believe this was happening. A week ago, she looked like she wanted to kill me. And now...

"Um. Yes?"

"Have you been thinking about me?" She whispered, and eased my jacket over my shoulders.

It fell to the floor and she kicked it away.

A mantra was playing in my head, flowing through my mind over and over, in time with my throbbing dick.

Oh God oh God oh God...

"Yes..." I breathed.

She smiled and leaned over, like she was going to kiss me. Her dark brown eyes fluttered.

"Good..."

Her soft, ruby red lips parted and the little pink tip of her tongue flicked out. She pressed against me and wrapped her arms around my neck, then softly licked my lips, running her moist tongue lightly over my upper lip, then my lower lip, and back. I shivered, and her warm thigh rubbed against my crotch. She played with my hair, gently biting my lower lip with her sharp, white teeth.

I was frozen stiff.

She nibbled my lip and wiggled against me, her breath hot and sweet on my face. I moaned and tried to put my arms around her, but she pulled back, smiling. I tried to push her down onto the floor, but she stepped away and took my wrist.

"I want you to come upstairs with me."

Suddenly, I was sweating again, and I was having trouble breathing.

"Oh. Okay."

She pulled me to the stairs and smiled reassuringly over her shoulder. All I could see was her sweet, round ass, swaying in front off me. I tried to touch it, and she smacked my hand away.

"Ow!"

She grinned.

"Not yet."

The bedroom door was open, but the lights were off.

"Go ahead," she said.

I stepped inside, and she turned on the lights and shut the door behind us, locking it behind her. I heard a drawer behind me open and shut. I almost turned around, but then I noticed her bed.

All the frilly girl stuff was gone, replaced with a single, black silk sheet tucked over the mattress. Lying on the bed were the leather handcuffs she’d caught me with, one pair attached to each of the thick steel posts at each corner of the bed.

She stepped behind me and touched my hips. She wrapped an arm around my waist and gently stroked my belly. I felt her breasts press into my back, and she let her chin rest on my shoulder.

I could just see her face out of the corner of my eye.

"Do you like my bed?" She asked. "Does it excite you?"

My mouth was too dry to speak, so I nodded.

"Let’s see."

She stopped rubbing my stomach and unbuttoned my jeans with a flick of her wrist. I jumped as my dick poked out of my underpants. It felt like it was going to explode.

"Okay, Linda, c’mon now..."

She hissed and squeezed me, pinning me to her. God, she was strong. Somewhere beyond the hormones flooding my system, I wondered why the hell she needed me to help her at school.

I probably should’ve given that some more thought, but she didn’t give me the time.

"Don’t move," she warned, and I felt something cold and sharp slide under my chin. "Unless you like blood."

"Holy shit, Linda! Hey, look! This was fun, and I’ve learned my lesson, but..."

I tried to pull away, but she jerked me back against her and the butcher knife in her hand bit into my throat.

"Devin, you were very bad. A bad, bad boy. I forgive you for snooping. Really. After I took you home, Bert helped me realize you did what any other horny teenage boy would’ve done. I know you’ve been attracted to me for a long time, and I’m actually kind of glad you found my little secret. But I want you to understand something. You need to be very quiet now. From now on, you’re not to speak unless I tell you to. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

The knife pressed harder, and a sharp pain shot into my neck. "What was that?"

"Yeah! Yeah! I get it! Linda, please...!"

She jerked me again.

"You have lost the privilege of calling me Linda. You may call me Ms. Bell. Do you understand?"

Holy shit. She’s lost it. A fucking bird’s talking to her? Calming her down? Forget Vampira, forget Bride of Frankenstein.

She was a fucking psycho.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Yeah. Okay...uh, Ms. Bell. I got it."

"Good. Now. I asked you a question."

"Wha...What was that?"

"Are you excited?"

Not any fucking more, I thought.

After she pulled the knife on me, my dick went from looking like a tent pole in my underwear to hiding somewhere around my armpits. Hell, as far as I knew, it jumped off and slithered out under her door, and was running like hell to Bermuda right now.

"Uh, I...was..."

"Let’s see," she said again.

Her hand slid back down and into my underpants. She ran her fingernails through my pubic hair and then gripped my balls. She kissed my neck and softly nibbled my earlobe as she played with me.

I shivered, and my dick decided to take a risk.

She laughed in my ear and used the flat of her knife to force my head back onto her shoulder.

"That’s a nice boy," she said. "Just like that. Now relax."

She stroked me until I was hard again, and she ran a fingernail along the bottom of my cock up to the tip, pushing it against my belly.

"Very nice," she whispered, and let it flop back down. It hung straight out, pulsing.

I felt dizzy.

"Now then. I was telling you that I forgave you?"

"Yes Ms. Bell," I croaked. I sounded like her stupid bird.

"Well. A couple days ago, I realized you took something when you were here, too. Didn’t you?"

I managed a nod.

The knife pricked me.

"What did you say?"

"Y-yes. I did."

She smiled and licked my ear. My dick twitched in her hand.

"You’ve been playing with something in your pocket this week, haven’t you?"

I shut my eyes.

Poke.

"Yes."

Poke.

"Ms. Bell," she said.

Poke.

"Yes, Ms. Bell."

The knife eased back, and her other hand reached into the pocket of my jeans. She pulled her panties out and dangled them in front of my face.

"That’s where they went! I wondered where they’d disappeared to. I just knew I put them in my dresser."

Poke.

"Did you look through my dresser, Devin?"

Poke.

"Yes Ms. Bell."

"Did you take anything else of mine?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, and nodded.

Poke.

"Yes Ms. Bell."

"What?"

Poke.

"I...I took a bra."

She nuzzled me, giving me little, soft kisses.

"Do you like what you took?"

"Y-yes Ms. Bell."

"Did you think about me this week? Wearing what you took from me?"

I was breathing hard again. She’d wrapped her panties around my penis, and was slowly jerking me off. My knees started to tremble.

"Yes." I whispered.

"Did you bring me back my bra, too?"

I shook my head.

Poke.

"No! No, Ms. Bell. It’s still at my house."

"Did you try my underwear on?" She asked.

"No. I didn’t..."

"Did you think about it? Did you wonder what my panties would feel like? Did you imagine slipping them on, the soft lace stroking you at school, hidden under your pants? Or my bra, hidden under your shirt, strapped around your sweet chest?"

I gulped and shook my head again.

Poke.

"N-no. I didn’t. Really. I just wanted something to remember you with..."

"You stole from me."

"But..."

She stopped rubbing my cock and tossed the panties on the bed.

"Give me your arm." She patted my left shoulder. "This one."

She grabbed my left wrist and yanked my arm behind my back. The cold pressure on my neck eased up, and she pushed me onto the bed.

With my pants halfway to my knees, I couldn’t stay up. I fell over, and she landed on top of me. I heard the rattle of a chain and then a leather strap tightened around my wrist.

She’d tied me with the cuff attached to the opposite - right - side of the bed. I had to use all my strength to flip over, but she’d already locked my wrist into the handcuff. When I flopped onto my back, I found her straddling my hips with the knife pointed right at my throat, and I realized she’d planned it this way.

"Don’t move." Her smile was gone.

The point of her knife poked my cheek, and her ass rubbed my cock as she pinned my other wrist to the bed with her knee. She grabbed the cuff lying next to my head, and quickly strapped my right wrist in.

Then she stroked my face with her blade, and grinned. She sat up, and I could see her dress had popped its buttons up to her waist. She grabbed my t-shirt and slit it open with her knife.

"Oh shit! Linda, please...!"

She jabbed my nipple with the knife and hissed at me.

"What did you say?"

I bit my lip and shut up. A little blood trickled down my ribs from the cut she’d made.

Then she leaned over and kissed me. I heard myself groan as her tongue flicked in and out of my mouth, and I for a second I forgot my fear.

Her kiss was soft and she ran her hand up my ribs as she pulled my tongue into her mouth and sucked on it. She kept the knife held at my neck and pinched my bloody nipple with her free hand, and then she ripped her dress open to her belly, down to the last couple buttons.

I felt my cock throb against her backside and bit my lip. Under her dress she was wearing a white push up bra. The cups were cut just under her tiny, pink nipples, forcing them to jut out.

"Do you like my breasts, Devin?" She asked.

"Y-yes, Ms. Bell."

She smiled.

I’d answered the question right, I guess, because she wrapped her hands around the back of my head, leaned over and pressed her chest onto my face. One of her nipples poked against my lips, and I sucked on it, nibbling it. Her tits were bigger than I’d thought. I realized that the little peeks I’d managed to catch over the years had just misled me about the size of her boobs.

Her hips jerked, grinding her ass into my crotch. And then she pulled away. She sat up and looked down at me, smiling. She stabbed he knife into the mattress next to my armpit and played with her breasts with one hand, then reached behind her ass and stroked my cock with the other.

Maybe she wasn’t going to kill me. I remembered the bondage get-up in her closet, and prayed this was just some funky role-playing game for her. Despite myself, I was starting to get into it.

Linda shut her eyes and played with me for a minute, until I was hard in her hand again. And then she bent over and kissed my neck, sliding her tongue down my chest. She pinched and bit my nipples, trailing her mouth over them, sucking them, and then she slid her body further down, biting and kissing my belly, licking my belly button, and then she grabbed my cock with both hands and took me into her mouth with a gulp.

My entire body tingled when I felt her lips press against my belly, and I jerked against her. She looked up at me, my dick buried in her throat, stretching out her mouth. She bobbed her head and I slid out with a slurp.

"Do you like that?"

"Oh, my God." I whispered. "Yes...uh...uhh...Ms. Bell...Uhhhh"

My feet twitched and my hands clenched as she sucked me, slowly and gently. She slid one arm under my ass and pillowed her head on my hip. Her soft, curly hair tickled me, and she cupped my balls with her free hand and lightly tickled my asshole with her fingertips. She worked me slowly at first, and then picked up speed, until my hips jerked and my toes curled.

"Oh shit! Oh...sh-shit! P-please...gnnng!"

She stopped sucking me right as I started to cum, but rolled off me onto the bed and kept stroking me. Her hand pumped away, and I couldn’t hold back. I shot my load, and she milked me, pointing my dick up towards my belly.

"Oh, fuck, Linda! Fuck, yeah!"

Sticky, pearly white cum pooled on my stomach, and dripped down my sides. My chest heaved as she smiled at me and squeezed the last drops of cum out of my cock. Then she ran her hand over the mess on my belly and licked her fingers clean.

"You made quite a mess, Devin."

I managed to nod. I could barely breathe.

She slid off the bed and pulled my pants down around my ankles. Then she pulled off my tennis shoes and my socks, pinned one of my legs to the bed and buckled me down, tightening the cuff around my leg just above my pants.

"You made a mess and you called me Linda. I told you to call me Ms. Bell, didn’t I?"

"Y-yeah. But..."

She strapped in my other leg, jerked the chains tight, and then pulled my pants all the way off.

"That means you have to be punished."

I tried to sit up. I still had some slack in the chains locking up my arms.

"No, no. You don’t get up until I let you."

Linda pushed me down and straddled my chest. She tightened up the chains for my arms, until I was spread-eagled out on her bed. Then she slid off again, my cum leaving a wet, shiny trail where she’d smeared it over my body.

"What a bad boy you are. Since you can’t seem to follow directions..."

She pulled the knife out of the bed and set it on her nightstand, then stepped over to her closet. She rolled open the door and grabbed something off the rack.

"I think we just need to make sure you don’t talk any more this weekend."

She grinned and held up a gag and a mask.

"Linda, please..."

She slapped me hard enough to make my eyes water. My lip swelled and I tasted blood.

"Shut up."

She pulled the black leather mask over my head, and then zipped it up the back. She unzipped the eye and mouth slits, and then shoved the red rubber ball of the gag against my lips.

"Oww!"

She wiggled it into my mouth, until I gurgled, and then she strapped it around my head, hooking it in place.

"There." She stepped back and admired her handiwork. "Perfect."

She smiled at me, watching me jerk around on her bed. The cuffs didn’t hurt, but I was strung so tight I could barely move, and the mask was stifling. I felt myself start to panic again, and screamed into my gag.

Completely muffled. Almost no sound reached my ears through the thick leather. And then I knew that I’d blown my chance for help.

Now no one could hear me.

"Oooh, poor boy. Uncomfortable?" Linda cooed. "Here. Let me help."

She pulled a thick pillow out of the closet and shoved it under the small of my back, and then another, until my hips were almost a foot off the bed.

"You wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you? I know you did. I could see it in your eyes when I found you leering into my closet, and all this week at school." She ran a hand lightly over my prone body.

Her touch was electric. My body jumped.

"There, there. You got to have your fun, now it’s my turn." She smiled again. "Just relax. You’re about to get your wish. Now, wait just a second."

She turned back to her closet, and came back out with a big bottle of anal lubricant.

"You’ll need this," she said, and crawled up onto the bed. She knelt between my legs and squirted a bunch of lube onto my crotch and over my balls. She slathered it on thick. Despite myself, my dick came back to life at the cool touch of the jelly, and she grinned.

"Well, look at that. You are a horny boy, aren’t you?" She shook more lube down to the tip of the bottle. "We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?"

She used her fingertips to spread my ass cheeks open.

"What a cute little butt you’ve got, Devin."

She grinned and pressed the tip of the bottle into my anus.

My body jerked as she squeezed the rest of the lube into my rectum. She laughed and tossed the bottle onto the floor.

"Don’t you like that?"

My head flopped frantically from side to side, and she unbuttoned the last two buttons holding her dress closed. She let it slide off onto the floor and rested her hands on my thighs. She was wearing a flowery garter belt with her stockings and a pair of lacy panties over that.

"That’s too bad," she said, and leaned over with her ass up in the air.

She lapped the drying cum from my stomach, purring like a cat. I closed my eyes, feeling the heat from her body on mine. The tip of my dick rubbed her chest, her bra, and her belly as she licked and slurped.

I groaned with pleasure.

And then she sat up again, and pulled down her panties.

My eyes popped open and I started to thrash in my chains.

Ms. Bell laughed, and stroked the hard, thick, purple cock dangling where her pussy should’ve been. Her - his - cock was big - bigger than mine - and the balls hanging down inside her thighs were hairless.

"I hope I’m everything you wanted, Devin," she whispered and eased down onto me.

My legs were spread open, and my ass was way up in the air. I kicked and thrashed, but I could barely move. She just giggled and slipped her cock slowly into my oozing rectum.

It hurt.

It fucking hurt a lot .

Once she was in far enough that I couldn’t dislodge her, she grabbed my ass with both of her hands and pushed with her hips. She had all the leverage she needed, and suddenly I felt like I had to take a huge shit.

"There sweet boy. Doesn’t that feel nice?" She cooed. "You feel so sweet, I love your ass."

She let her weight rest on me and her tits dug into my chest. Her sticky hands slid up my body and grabbed a pair of leather handles that were sewn onto the sides of my mask, and she started pumping into me. She buried her face in the crook between my neck and my shoulder and purred, sucking and nuzzling me. Her hair poked into my eye and I had to turn my head away, giving her better access to my neck while she fucked me.

"That’s my sweet baby. My sweet, sweet baby." she whispered as she chewed on my neck. "You want me to cum in your ass, don’t you baby..."

Oh, fuck, it hurt.

She was pounding into me, smashing her belly against my balls. My dick was pressed flat against her stomach, and her garter belt rubbed it while she fucked me. Her belly was slick with my cum and the lube she’d smeared all over me, and the friction was turning the lube warm, then hot.

"You like it. I can feel it..."

My dick slid underneath her garter belt and stuck there, between the lacy material and her stomach. I groaned as I felt another orgasm building.

I didn’t want to cum. I didn’t. Not with some freak fucking me in the ass.

But I couldn’t help it.

My toes curled and my hands clenched into fists. A muffled wail from behind my mask caused her to stop pumping me for a second. She smiled as she pushed her upper body away from me, and shoved with her hips until her dick was buried and her balls slapped my ass.

"Cum for me," Linda purred. "Cum all over your sweet chest..."

She ran her fingers lightly up and down the thick vein running along the bottom of my cock, and a thick stream of cum spurted out of my dick like a fountain. Tears of shame burned in my eyes as my chest was sprayed with milky-white droplets.

Linda grinned and licked her fingers clean.

"That tastes so sweet..."

She gathered her legs up so she was kneeling underneath me, and pulled my ass higher. With my chained legs stretched over her thighs, she began fucking me with quick, hard strokes.

"Baby, oh baby..."

I didn’t feel her cum inside me. None of that ‘hot jizm exploding, filling me up’ crap. It was nothing like any of the shit you read about in the dirty magazines. One minute, she (he? it?) was pounding me, ripping into my asshole, and the next she just stiffened. After a series of small jerks, the pressure in my bowels lessened and she collapsed on top of me.

Then I felt warm fluid dripping down my ass cheeks, and she was snuggling me, gently kissing my nipples and wrapping herself around my body.

"Sweet boy, I knew you’d like it..." she whispered.

She rested her head on my chest, stroking the cum covering me with a sharp fingernail, swirling it around and making little designs.

"I can’t wait for tomorrow to introduce you to my friends," she yawned.

And then she fell asleep, right on top of me, with her cock slowly shrinking inside my ass. After a few minutes she started to snore softly, and her penis popped out.

It felt just like I’d taken a little turd.

I woke up to find dingy grey light pouring through her bedroom windows.

"Rise and shine sleepy-head," she said, as she dragged me, feet first, off the bed. "Time to get ready for the party."

My feet were cuffed with a new pair of leather bonds. A short, thin nylon cord dangled between them, I guess so I could walk on my own. My hands were hand-cuffed tightly in front of me, and I noticed the other cuffs were still attached to the bedframe.

Linda was standing in front of me, completely naked. She was holding the riding crop from her closet in one hand, and poked my face with it. I wasn’t wearing the mask anymore, but I was still gagged.

"Stand up Devin."

Soft, her cock swung down four or five inches. There was dried shit and blood caked on it, and smeared all over the tops of her legs.

"C’mon. We don’t have all day. Huffff!"

She pulled me to my feet and a sharp pain flooded my bowels. Suddenly I had to go to the bathroom very, very badly. She yanked on a heavy leash she’d attached to a studded leather collar around my neck, and my wobbly legs almost gave out.

"Stand up straight!" she demanded.

I did my best, and she led me into her bathroom. The rope around my ankles let me shuffle along in little half-steps.

"Sit!"

She pushed me down onto the toilet and held my penis while I relieved myself. Shit bubbled out of my ass and plopped into the toilet, splashing me.

I squeezed my eyes closed and prayed to wake up.

Linda laughed and played with her little whip, gently slapping the underside of my chin with it.

"All finished. That’s a good boy, pooping in the toilet."

She cleaned me, and then pulled my leash again.

"Now into the shower. We want you to make a good impression tonight."

I tried to step over the ledge of the bathtub, and almost tipped over. The whip whacked me in the butt, and I stumbled in.

"Raise your arms."

A metal pipe ran across the top of her shower, from one wall to the other, with a sturdy hook hanging from the middle. I shook my head, and she flicked her wrist.

"GAAHH!"

Her crop caught me across my nipple. Linda wasn’t smiling anymore.

"You smell like a disgusting pig. Raise your arms. Now!" She flicked her wrist again.

WHACK!

Pain exploded through me as the tip of her crop kissed my crotch. My vision swam, and she screamed again.

"NOW!"

WHACK!

My other nipple burned, and I raised my arms, shuddering. She reached up and attached my cuffs to the hook with a small, light clamp.

"There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?" she asked pleasantly.

My whole body hurt. I didn’t want to piss her off again, so I shook my head.

Linda stepped into the shower behind me, reached around my waist, and started the water running. A blast of freezing cold water hit me in the face, sending chills down my entire body. She pushed my head into the freezing spray and raked her fingers through my hair. I came out sputtering, and then she was lathering me up with shampoo.

"There. Doesn’t that smell good?"

She dunked me again and rinsed me. The water was warming up now, and I felt her arm wrap around my waist, and she bent over. When she straightened, she held a bar of pink soap under my nose.

"This is my favorite. I think you’ll like it too." The soap smelled like her, like she smelled every day when we’d stayed late in her classroom.

I groaned.

Linda slowly, gently soaped me up. Starting with my arms, she worked her way down past my groin, washing me as she went, and then moving back up to my crotch.

"Mmm. Let’s have a little fun, shall we?"

I let my head hang as she washed my cock. Despite myself, it slowly hardened until it was standing straight up, throbbing in her fist.

"Such a nice, hard cock," she whispered.

And then something hard and rubbery was poking me.

Linda pulled me against her and played with my chest as she jacked me off, gently rubbing her growing dick up and down my wet, soapy ass crack.

God. Just like last night, I thought. This can’t be happening. Please. This has to be a bad dream.

And she stopped.

"There. Nice and hard again, sweet boy. But I think we should save that for later this evening."

She reached around me and popped the shower head off the stand. I waited, hanging there, staring at the flowery white tile until she finished bathing herself.

"All done!"

Linda turned off the water and opened the shower door. She hopped out of the tub and I watched her in the mirror as she toweled off. Then she rubbed me dry with a thick pink towel and stepped back, grinning.

"I’ll be right back. Don’t move a muscle." She hung the wet towels back on the rack and left the room.

I hung there for a second with my eyes closed and my head back, wondering how the fuck I was going to get out of this. I could hear Linda rummaging around in her bedroom. I opened my eyes when she turned on the radio, and found myself staring up at my wrists.

The pipe I was attached to was bent slightly in the middle. I lifted my legs, curling them up to my stomach. My ass felt like something was ripping inside, but I hung there, twisting.

Nothing.

I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth and pulled myself up as far as I could with my arms, and then let myself drop. The leather straps cut into my wrists, but the pipe groaned and bent.

I dropped about a half an inch.

In the bedroom, Linda was humming along to some old sixties song. Glancing at the bathroom door, I raised my body again, pulling my legs into a ball, and dropped. With a squeal, the pipe bent another inch, but held.

"What do you think you’re doing?!"

Linda was standing at the doorway, dressed in her nurses’ outfit, glaring at me. She lashed out with her riding crop.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"Mmphaagh!"

Three burning welts popped up on my ass cheeks, just below the small of my back. Linda placed a fist on her hips and waggled her finger at me, like she was scolding a small child.

"Bad boy! Didn’t I tell you not to move?"

Linda unhooked me and dragged me out of the tub, then into the bedroom and threw me face-first down onto the bed.

"Such a bad boy. And after I’ve been so nice to you."

She leashed me to the head-board of the bed and pulled something green from her closet. Then she straddled my back, unlocked my handcuffs and grabbed me by the hair, jerking my head back.

"Do you know what happens to bad boys? Do you?"

My eyes popped open and I shook my head.

"Mmmgh!

"They get punished."

Linda let go of my hair and shook out a green smock. She forced my hands through a pair of arm holes, then tied the light, paper-like material down my back.

"There."

She locked my handcuffs together again and untied my leash.

"Stand up," she said. "Let’s see how you look in your costume."

I slowly pushed myself off the bed, and turned around. Linda was grinning at me, lifting my chin with her crop.

"My little patient. You look cute enough to eat." She sighed. "Come with me."

She gave my leash a quick jerk, and I stumbled after her. I heard Bert squawk through the closed office door, and then we were down the stairs and into her living room. She led me right to the stockade that she’d set up in the middle of the room.

"You’ve been such a bad boy; this is where you’re going to have to spend the evening."

I tried to back away, shaking my head. She just yanked my forward until she could grab my hair again, and pushed my neck down on the thick slab of wood.

"Bad boy! Don’t make me spank you!’

Linda slipped behind me and grabbed my wrists. After unlocking my handcuffs again, she forced my arms down into the shallow depressions cut into the beam, and slammed the crossbar down over my neck and padlocked me in.

"There!"

I tried to jerk my head back. No luck. I couldn’t move.

Linda removed the leash and slipped the black mask back over my head, buckling it on. She made sure the eye-slits were open, so I could see, but she zipped the mouth closed.

"You be a good boy now. I’ve got a lot to get ready!"

Then left me alone. With her parrot tucked away, the house stayed strangely quiet.

 

The doorbell rang about an hour later.

Linda skipped past me and I heard the door open.

"Girlfriend! Look at you! Oooohhh!"

I was turned with my ass facing the door so I couldn’t see who had just shown up, but there was a lot of excited shouting for a couple minutes. The voice that kept calling Linda ‘Girlfriend’ eventually acknowledged me.

"And who’s this sweet thing?"

A warm hand patted my ass and trailed up my back, playing with the ties on my ‘costume’.

"Oh. Just a party favor, for later."

"Perky!"

The hand tickled my balls, and I turned my head as far as I could. A pair of long, muscular brown legs stepped into view. I looked up to see what appeared to be a black man dressed as a roaring-twenties style flapper, wearing a tight, sequined white dress with a skirt that barely covered his ass, and a pair of black mesh stockings with white stiletto heels.

Behind me, someone with a lisp asked, "Dessert?" Then laughed gaily.

"Here, let me take your coats. Desiree, I haven’t had time to bring out the bowls. Would you mind?"

The person standing in front of me was playing with my mask. "’Course, Girl! Whatever you need."

"They’re right over there."

Desiree walked away, swishing his butt. He returned a second later and set two bowls by my feet. One was full of condoms, the other loaded with little bottles of anal lubricant. The bowls I’d seen in Linda’s closet.

Somebody was gently rubbing my ass.

"I love Halloween. Linda always comes up with the best ideas," the voice lisped. "Did you see the balls on this one?"

And the doorbell rang again.

"Party-time!" Desiree cried, and he ran to open the door.

 

I don’t know how many people showed up for Linda’s little shin-dig, but the apartment was packed and noisy, and the drinks were flowing.

There was a lot of leather, lots of chains and bondage stuff. Everybody was dancing, or eating, or wandering from one little group to another. One chubby guy whose voice I recognized as the Lisper was dressed like a cartoon tiger, with little white shirt cuffs and a white collar and a bow-tie sewn onto his costume. He had a pair of orange ears strapped to the top of his head, and they kept falling off while he danced.

I seemed to be the focal point of conversation, but for the first hour or so, everybody pretty much left me alone and partied. Eventually the little groups got even smaller, and couples started claiming space on the couch and chairs. A guy dressed like a biker flopped onto a recliner in front of me and pulled out a huge cock, bloated and purple, with a shiny silver cock ring wrapped around his balls. Another guy dressed like a cowboy knelt down between his knees, and the biker grinned and closed his eyes.

I turned my head when the cowboy hat started bobbing up and down.

The orgy had begun. And Lispy Tiger Boy was glancing my way.

"Hey, Linda!" He shouted across the room, waving at me. "Can I partake?"

I couldn’t see or hear her, but I guess Linda said yes because the guy walked over to me. He bent over and smiled at me, then dipped into the bowls. He straightened and slid his hand into the band of his orange tights and slipped them down, over his hips.

And I was suddenly staring right at a pair of hairy balls, and thick, soft cock, poking right at my face.

No. No, no, no, no...

"Not his mouth!" I heard Linda shout from across the room. "And wrap that rascal!"

"’Kay!"

Lispy ripped open a condom package and rolled the rubber on. The he squirted some lube onto his hand and started to jack off. When he was hard he waddled around behind me.

Oh God, no...

His sticky hands untied and pulled open my costume. He rubbed his slimy cock into my ass, greasing me up. I tried to wiggle away, but he grabbed me around the waist with both of his arms, pinning me in place.

"Hold still," he whispered, and pushed his dick into me with a grunt.

My entire body spasmed, and my head smacked back into the hard wood.

"MMMMgggg!"

"Ahhhooowww. You’re a tight boy, aren’t you?"

Lispy wormed his way into my ass, with slow, hard thrusts. His fingers played with my cock while he slowly fucked me, then reached completely under me and lightly grabbed my balls.

"Oh, yeah..."

He squeezed my balls and screwed me. When he started to get really excited he stopped playing with me, dug his fingers into my waist and bent over my back. He pounded into me as hard as he could, slamming my shoulders into the cross-bars locking me into the stockade.

"YESSS!!!"

Lispy pulled out suddenly, and a second later warm fluid spurted over my ass.

Then the cowboy-biker duo stepped up.

"All finished, Pard'ner?"

"Enjoy yourselves, boys!"

I watched the cowboy slip underneath me. His head brushed my chest and his hat fell off, and then he sucked my cock into his mouth. The biker took the time to grab a condom, and then his huge dick was filling my ass.

It felt like I was being ripped apart.

"Fuck him, Baby," the cowboy slurped. He reached around and pulled my ass cheeks open. "Yee-Haw! Pound that little ass."

And so it went.

Unfortunately, the night was just beginning.

 

Hours later, I hung limply from my prison. My ass burned like it was on fire.

All the party-goers had long since departed, except for Desiree.

Right now, he was sitting on the chair in front of me with his legs crossed, his hands folded demurely on his knee, swinging his shoe from his toes as he twirled his foot in a slow circle.

Watching me.

"What are you going to do with your little trophy?" He asked Linda, who was walking around, picking up.

Linda shrugged.

"I’m not sure yet. He said he wanted to come to the party, but I haven’t asked him if he wants to stay tonight."

Desiree smiled and smoothed out his skirt, and gracefully shifted his legs, teasing me.

He yawned theatrically and stretched, throwing back his head and pushing his arms straight into the air. His breasts were enormous, and he had a tiny little waist, which made them look even larger. The tight dress he wore barely restrained his tits; in fact, it emphasized them. He caught me looking and grinned, cupping his breasts with his hands and giving them a little bounce.

"I think he likes my titties." He toyed with a thin spaghetti strap that kept falling down over his shoulder. He smiled and licked his full lips. "Would you like to see them, baby?"

Linda stood next to me, and unzipped my mask.

"Now that everyone’s gone, why don’t we take this off?"

She pulled the mask off and let it fall to the floor.

"Oh! What a beautiful boy!" grinned Desiree.

He slid off the chair and crawled over the floor to me, until I could feel his breath on my face. He reached out and smoothed back my hair, then gently kissed my forehead.

"So pretty," he murmured, and slipped the straps of his dress over his arms.

Desiree cupped his breasts with his arms, pushing them into my face. The sequins covering his dress scraped my face for a second, and then the cool, smooth feel of a silk slip, and then the warm flesh of his bare skin. He played with my hair and I heard a click, and then a huge weight eased from my neck. It took me a moment to realize that Linda had removed the bar holding me down. And then my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor with a thump.

"Poor baby. Looks like you’ve had a rough night." Desiree stood up and kicked off his shoes. "Why don’t we take you upstairs and clean you up."

He pulled up his dress and stepped around the stockade, then bent over picked me up like I was a child. He threw me backwards over his shoulder and marched upstairs, right into the bathroom, and stood me up in the shower. He pulled off the hospital gown and tossed it in a clothes-hamper sitting by the sink.

Linda turned on the water, and I was too weak to fight as they bathed me. Hot, rust brown water swirled down the drain as they rinsed my legs and buttocks. My ass stung when the water ran over it. After they finished, Desiree toweled me dry and then they handcuffed my wrists together again, and let me use the toilet.

"Poor baby," he turned to Linda. "Does he know?"

Know what? I wondered.

Linda shook her head.

"I haven’t told him. I’m sure he thinks that I’m like you."

What the hell were they talking about?

Desiree flushed the toilet for me and led me back into the bedroom. The bedding was clean; someone had changed the sheets to a soft pink satin, instead of the black silk. He pushed me onto the bed and they locked me up again. The sheets were cold underneath me, and I shivered.

They both sat on opposite sides of the bed and smiled at me.

"So. Is that what you think?" Desiree asked.

I looked at each of them. Bewildered.

"That she’s like me?"

Desiree stood and slipped out of his dress until it pooled around his ankles. The silk slip followed right after. Underneath, he was just wearing a black garter belt to hold up his stockings. His tits were full and firm, bigger than anything I’d seen outside of a porno movie, with dark brown nipples. I could see the light discoloration around the side of his breast, where the scarring from his implants had healed. His penis was already hard, and stuck out a good foot from his crotch.

"A woman trapped in a man’s body?"

I couldn’t take my eyes off his penis. He eased back onto the bed, and started to gently stroke my stomach with his long, painted fingernails. His dick flopped over his thigh and rested half on the bed, and his tits pressed into my side.

He looked at Linda.

"Why don’t you show him?"

Linda smiled at me and stood up. She was still dressed in her nurses’ costume. She unclipped the little white cap and tossed it on the dresser, then reached behind her back and unzipped the starched white uniform. She pulled it down over her round hips, and I felt my cock suddenly twitch.

Desiree noticed too, and his light touch eased down my belly until his fingertips lightly ran up and down the length of my dick. I groaned around my gag when Linda stood up straight. Now wearing just her undies, she looked like something right out of a wet dream.

"Bra first, honey," Desiree said.

Linda nodded, and unhooked her white, push-up bra. It unsnapped in the front, and she slid the straps down her slim arms and let it fall. She stood smiling at me with her back arched and her chest thrust forward. She licked her fingers and pinched her little, pink nipples until they were stiff.

"Look at them, Sweetie," Desiree prompted. "Those are the real deal, Sugar."

I glanced at him, and he grinned. Then he looked back at Linda.

"Now the panties."

Linda bent and rolled her white g-string down her legs and stepped out of it, leaving her wearing just white stockings and a matching garter belt. She stood again, demurely sucking a finger and playing with her cock.

I watched her get hard.

"Now, that’s real too. Isn’t it, Linda?"

Linda smiled and nodded.

"Come closer." Desiree stopped caressing my dick, and motioned Linda to step closer to my face. "There. Good. Now turn around and bend over."

I seemed to be having a hard time breathing. Linda twirled on the ball of her foot, bent over and spread her ass cheeks. She wiggled her butt, and I got a nice view of her asshole, her balls and her dick and...her...

Pussy?

Linda’s hand moved under her crotch and slipped between her legs. She rubbed her pussy lips and slipped her middle finger inside. It came out slick, and she turned around and licked it clean.

"See? A little bit of everything. Just for us."

She smiled at me and Desiree patted my crotch. Linda crawled onto the bed and straddled me. She closed her eyes and licked her lips, raising her bottom slightly.

"A little higher," Desiree said, and he gripped the base of my cock.

I felt myself slide into Linda. She sat down with a slow grind of her hips, and her fingernails scraped my chest.

God. She was the tightest fit I’ve ever experienced. She fit me like a warm silk glove. She cuddled me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissed me gently.

"Fuck me," she whispered, and began moving against me, stroking my hair.

"Thattaboy." Desiree stood up and opened the closet. He clicked on the light and bent over, and when he shut the doors he was smearing lube on his cock. He eased between my spread legs, behind Linda. I felt his dick push into my balls, and for a second, I thought he was going to try to fuck my ass.

I braced myself for the pain, imagining that huge dick ripping into my butt.

But it didn’t happen.

Instead, Linda moaned and squeezed me tighter, and I felt something big and hard pressing down on my cock. I opened my eyes.

Desiree was slowly easing himself into Linda’s asshole. Her face scrunched up with the effort of taking us both, and then he was lying on top of us. Linda was angled to my left, Desiree to my right, both of them kissing and caressing me. Linda smiled with an effort.

"L-let’s...t-take this off, too."

She unsnapped my gag, and Desiree pulled the red ball out of my mouth. My jaws cramped, and Linda massaged my face until they relaxed and I could close my mouth. For the first time in more than a day, I could speak.

"Please...stop..." I managed. But Desiree cupped my chin in his hand and tilted my face to his. His lips gently touched mine and Linda nuzzled her soft lips along my ear, teasing me with her tongue.

"Cum in me," she whispered, and her hands played with my body, sending little chills down my spine.

Desiree flicked his tongue in my mouth and I gasped. "It’s okay, baby," he said. "Just lay back and enjoy."

He smiled reassuringly, and I closed my eyes.

"Oh, God," I heard myself say, and I let them do whatever they wanted.

 

For the rest of the year, Linda brought me home with her on Friday nights, and occasionally Desiree would join us. When school ended and I graduated, Linda moved back to France, with her sister.

Desiree and I stayed in contact, a bit.

She asked me to stop calling her ‘him’, and eventually I began to think of her as a woman. She would bring me over to apartment and dress me up in whatever outfit tickled her fancy, and then we’d fuck. She seemed to enjoy my...exuberance.

One weekend, Linda flew in to spend a few days, and brought her sister with her.

By that time, I thought I knew what kinky was.

I had no idea.

On the days I didn’t spend with them, I tried to hang out with my buddies. I’d forgotten all about Cara and Keith, until one weekend when all of us - the guys, that is - decided to go to a strip bar.

"Yo! Dev! Wha’s up!"

Manning the door at ‘The Crop’ was Keith. He’d put on some weight over the last few months. His gut hung out over his baggy jeans, and he still drooled. He let us in with a discount and a good word with the waitress.

Nice of him.

A few watery sodas and a couple lap-dances later, we were feeling pretty relaxed. Then the D.J. announced some stripper named ‘Mercedes’, and cranked up the bump and grind music.

Three guesses who jumped on stage.

Cara saw me sitting in the crowd, and almost blew her act. She recovered nicely, though, and did a pretty good set. She knew how to work the pole, boy.

I shoved a dollar bill in her g-string, and decided to call it a night. I patted her butt and she smiled at me with sad, glazed eyes. I said goodbye to my friends. Only Mark and Dave managed to pry their eyes away from my stoned ex-girlfriend and her baby-doll outfit long enough to say goodnight.

I went home and called Desiree. It was late, but I was depressed and horny. She picked up after the second ring. I don’t think she ever slept.

"What’s wrong baby?" She asked. "Sounds like you need some sugar. Why don’t you come on over."

We hung up and I walked out to my car - Linda’s old VW. As I unlocked the door, I saw the lights go off a couple houses over. Ingrid. I hadn’t thought about her for months now.

For a second, I thought I caught a glimpse of her peeking out the living room window at me.

 

The next day I woke up late in the afternoon. It was broiling hot in my room.

I sat up and stretched, feeling groggy, and opened my window for some air, right as Ingrid power-walked by my house.

She must’ve heard the window, because she stopped and looked around. I unlatched the screen and pushed it up, then stuck my head out of the window.

"Hey. It’s just me," I said.

She smiled and waved, then her face turned pink and her hand jumped to her mouth. She grinned at me, then turned on her heel and almost ran home.

"What?" I wondered.

When I was standing back in my room, I realized it might’ve been a good idea to put some clothes on before I opened the window. Then I remembered Ingrid’s little grin before she walked away, and my dick twitched.

"Heh." I laughed to myself. "You liked it."

I thought for a minute, and then opened my closet. Buried in the back under a ton of junk was the box John had given me before he left, almost a year ago. I pulled it out and dug around in it until I found what I was looking for. I tossed the little package in the air and caught it, then went to take a shower.

 

An hour later, feeling refreshed and frisky, I went to visit Ingrid, carrying two tall glasses of iced tea with me.

I found her sitting cross-legged in the shade provided by our mutual neighbor’s house, weeding her flower beds. Even in the shade, the heat was smothering. She was still wearing her walking outfit; the same tank top, short-short combo she always wore, and she was covered in a glistening sheen of sweat.

"Hey."

Ingrid jumped.

"Oh!" She grinned at me and tucked a bit of damp hair behind her ear. "Devin! You startled me!"

"Sorry," I said, and handed her the glass in my right hand. "I saw you from my back yard and thought you might like something cold to drink."

"Oh. Well, thank you." She accepted the glass and took a small sip. She smacked her lips, and took a big gulp. "Mmm. That’s very good."

"Cheers." I sipped from my own glass. "I’m glad you like it. My mom brews a pitcher for me every morning before she goes to work. By the time I wake up it’s pretty tasty."

She swirled the ice in her glass and took another sip.

"This is so good. Devin, this was so thoughtful of you! Oh! Why don’t we take our drinks to the backyard and sit down?"

"Okay."

She held out her hand and I awkwardly helped her up.

"I put out some chairs on the patio," she said, wiping grass off her butt. "I...I didn’t expect anyone to visit, but..." she trailed off, frowning.

"But here I am."

That made her smile again.

"Yes. Here you are. I suppose I was hoping...that someone might come by."

A small rod-iron table was set up on the concrete patio. A faded umbrella was stuck through the glass top and three white chairs with worn, faded pillows tossed on the seats stood in the shade.

"Hey, let me get that."

I set my glass on the table and pulled out a chair for her. Ingrid settled in, and I sat down opposite her. She used both hands to tuck her hair back again and took another sip of her drink. She was already half finished.

Ingrid noticed that I was looking at her glass and smiled.

"Thank you."

"Sure. It’s that good, huh? I asked. "I guess I shoulda brought the whole pitcher."

She giggled, and then blinked, like she’d just surprised herself by laughing.

"So...how is your summer? She asked. Seemed like she didn’t know quite what to make of my showing up.

"Good. Pretty good." I cleared my throat. "Hey, I, uh, I wanted to apologize for this afternoon. I mean..."

"Do...do you usually open windows without wearing any clothes?"

Her hand shot up to her mouth. I didn’t know exactly what I’d laced her drink with. It didn’t look like the stuff John had used before, but it seemed to be working.

I decided to push the conversation.

"Well, no. Just when a sexy neighbor walks by. My exhibitionist nature gets the better of me."

Her eyebrows flew up and her jaw dropped. Then she blushed again.

And then she grinned.

"You...I...I’m not sexy."

Well, well. I thought that comment was going to be way too forward.

"Sure you are."

"No." She stared at her glass for a second. "Really?"

"Yup." Wow. Okay, I thought. Here goes nothing. "I like watching you walk. You look great in that outfit." I threw my hands up and leaned back in my chair. "Amazing."

"I...I...well," she cleared her throat. "I’ve seen you out on your deck sometimes. Sunbathing? You...remind me of my husband. Your body, I mean. I...I mean, you look nice and tan..."

Ingrid blinked at me, blushing. She glanced away from me and took a long drink. When she finished, what was left of the ice cubes clinked around in the bottom of her glass. She rubbed the back of her neck, then hugged herself and crossed her legs.

"Really?" I asked.

Ingrid nodded but didn’t say anything.

I didn’t take my eyes off her. She was breathing rapidly, taking small, shallow gulps of air. She glanced at my crotch, then quickly looked away. I didn’t know how to play this, so I decided to change the subject.

"Anyway." I leaned forward and drew a smiley face with my finger in the condensation on the table. "Have you heard from John?"

It took her a second to answer. She was staring at my hands, and shook herself back to attention.

"I-I’m sorry. What?"

"Have you talked to John lately?"

She shook her head.

"No. Johnny...hasn’t called, or..."

She was swaying a little: forward, then back. She blinked again and rubbed her forehead.

"Uh...are you okay?" I asked.

"I don’t...I don’t know. I..." She swallowed with an effort. "I feel dizzy."

"Maybe the heat’s getting to you. Do you want me to help you inside?"

She nodded.

"Yes, please. I..."

Ingrid tried to stand, but her legs buckled. I managed to catch her before she fell, and propped her up with my arm around her waist.

"Whoo. That’s not good. Is your backdoor unlocked?

"Y-yes."

"Okay. Let’s take this kinda slow."

She wrapped her arm around my shoulder. I put my free hand on her stomach and guided her towards the door. Getting her through the screen door was kind of awkward, but I managed to lug her to the living room. I pushed the coffee table out of the way with my foot and helped her stretch out on the couch.

"I’m sorry. I feel so odd, like...like..."

Ingrid rubbed her temples. I sat on the floor next to her and held her hand. It felt hot and clammy. Little beads of moisture ran down her face and neck, and a small pool of sweat collected in the groove between her breasts. I was glad she wasn’t looking at me, because I was having a hard time taking my eyes off her chest.

Her nipples were hard as rocks.

"Can I get you a cold towel or something?"

She squirmed a little. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke.

"I’m so hot..."

"I’m going to take off your shoes, okay?"

She nodded.

I untied her shoe laces and pulled her sneakers off and tossed them to the side. Her socks followed, and I went into the kitchen and found a dish towel hanging above the sink. I turned on the tap and let the cold water run until it was as cool as it would get, then soaked the towel and rinsed it out. I carried it back to the living room and laid it on her forehead.

"Thank you."

Ingrid reached out and stroked my face, smiling at me.

I was already really horny - I’d had a hard-on since seeing her that afternoon, and taking a cold shower did nothing to help calm it down. When she touched me, my dick perked up and shot out of the top of me shorts.

She couldn’t stop squirming. Her legs twitched and slid up and down on the cushions, rubbing together. She closed her eyes and let her hand drop from my face to her chest, where it rested on her right breast.

I picked up and re-folded the towel, and I smoothed back her damp hair. Her eyes fluttered, but she didn’t say anything. I decided to take a chance. I leaned over and kissed her as gently as I could.

Her body immediately responded. Her eyes popped open and she grunted, jerking her head into the pillow. I pulled back to find her staring at me with a shocked expression on her face.

"Devin! What...? Why did you do that?"

I smiled reassuringly.

"I told you. I think you’re beautiful, and I...I just wanted to kiss you."

Her eyes fluttered again. She was having a hard time staying focused.

"Devin, that...that’s not right. Please don’t..."

I kissed her again.

Her hand touched my chest, but she didn’t try to push me away. Maybe she didn’t have the energy. But then her lips parted, tentatively, and she let out a whoosh of air.

Suddenly both her arms were wrapped around my neck, and she was writhing against me. I grinned and pushed my tongue into her mouth. She moaned, deep in her throat, and began sucking my tongue, nibbling at it like it was a ripe strawberry. I kissed her lips, her eyes, and the tip of her chin. She bent her head back and I nuzzled her neck, letting my tongue drift down her sweaty chest.

"N-no..."

Ingrid was clutching me, her breasts rising into my face as I bit at her nipples through the satin tank top. The towel fell from her head onto the floor, and my left hand slid over her flat belly and down her shorts. I cupped her crotch, working my fingers under her shorts and the elastic band of her panties until I could gently stroke her pussy.

"Oh!"

This time she did push me away, planting both her hands on my shoulders and shoving me until her arms locked.

"What’s wrong? Don’t you like that?" I asked.

Her eyes were wide, and she clamped her legs together around my hand, which was still tangled in her shorts.

"Please. Devin, stop. This isn’t right."

I didn’t answer. I learned a few things in my time with Linda and Desiree. Instead, I slipped a finger into her pussy and grinned down at her.

"Oh...G-G-God..."

Her eyes lost focus and her whole body started trembling. Her cunt was soaking wet, and my finger slid right in. Her hands curled into fists, and she pulled herself against me. Her legs had my wrist pinned, but I was able to slowly slip my finger in and out, and instead of trying to shove me away again, her hips began to move, and she kissed me hard, shoving her tongue into my mouth.

"Mmm-mmm! Mmm!"

Her legs relaxed and she spread them open, letting one leg fall off the edge of the couch, giving me full access to her pussy. I slipped two more fingers in and her pussy clenched, smashing them into each other. I used my thumb to find her clit and started to gently circle her little nib, rubbing it until she groaned.

A warm gush of her pussy juice soaked my hand and her panties.

"Please stop..." she begged. "Please..."

I looked at her crotch. Her shorts were wet up to her belly.

"Do you really want me to stop?" I asked, and flicked her clit, causing another little flood. "Or can I take these wet things off for you?"

Ingrid squeezed her eyes shut and didn’t answer. Then she dropped back on the couch and averted her eyes, still quiet.

"Well?" I gave her shorts a little tug.

She bit her lip and nodded, and I slipped them down her legs. She kicked out of them, letting them fall to the floor, and then I pulled down her panties. I tossed those onto the coffee table. I petted her soft, light blonde pubic hair and her breath hissed between her teeth.

"You’re so pretty," I said, stroking her. "I...I’ve thought about this for a long time."

She wouldn’t look at me, but her legs were spread open. Inviting me.

I stood and unzipped my shorts. I kicked off my sandals, stepped out of my shorts and pulled off my underpants, then my t-shirt. She kept her head turned as I knelt between her legs.

I was so excited; my dick was actually bouncing up and down, twitching.

"Ingrid."

She shook her head.

"Ingrid. Look at me."

I had to cup her chin in my hand and turn her head. She squeezed her eyes tighter and balled her hands into fists. Mentally, I shrugged.

"You...you drugged me. You put something in my drink. I can tell...just like Johnny used to do..."

That stopped me. I was lying on top of her with her right leg over my shoulder. Her left leg was still dangling off the couch, and I was guiding my dick to her pussy.

"What?"

She never opened her eyes.

"Just like my Johnny," she whispered. "Such a bad boy."

That line triggered a bad memory. Then she grabbed my ass and pulled me into her.

"Ingrid!" I tried to roll off, but she wrapped both her arms around me and lifted her leg, tangling it between mine. "Hey!"

Her hips were grinding against me now. Her pussy was warm and wet, and it gripped my cock, pulsing. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Make me happy, Johnny... Make mommy happy..." she moaned, and clamped her mouth over mine.

It might not’ve been the strangest sex I’ve had. But Ingrid didn’t stop calling me Johnny the entire time.

Frankly, I didn’t care.

She came minutes later, bucking against me, her nails scratching my back.

I rolled us off the couch onto the floor. I lay on my back with her on top of me. I made sure I was still buried inside her, then I pulled off her tank top. Underneath she was wearing a light cotton bra. I didn’t bother unhooking it. I just pulled the straps over her shoulders and yanked the cups under her tits.

"Oh, yeah," I grinned, and pulled her close and kissed her nipples.

Her hair was plastered to her sweaty face, and she swayed back and forth while I sucked her tits. But she kept up a slow grind, her hands clutching my shoulders until I came.

Then she just collapsed on me, panting. I slowly relaxed, and after a while I felt moisture on my chest. I looked down to find her weeping. She was staring at me. Something made me take her hand in mine, and I kissed it.

"You think I’m beautiful?" She asked.

I could feel myself getting hard again. Her pussy was still twitching, and moisture trickled over my hips. I rolled her over onto her back and kissed her. She made a purring sound and tangled her hands in my hair. When I came up for air my dick was throbbing again, and I grinned.

"I think you’re hot."

She blinked again. Then she grinned.

"Did you like having your way with me?"

I answered by hooking both her legs around my neck. I fucked her that way until I came, and instead of filling her cunt with spunk, I pulled out and shot my load over her belly.

"I like fucking you," I said. "A lot."

Her eyes were closed again. But this time she was smiling.

Later, we were lying on her bed, snuggling. She had her head on my belly, and was gently playing with my cock and my balls.

"I was going to be moving back home, to Germany, in the fall." She looked up at me. "I suppose you would like me to stay now."

"What?"

"Well...I thought...now that we are lovers...you would want me to stay here, with you."

Huh?

"Who said...what are you talking about?"

She crawled on top of me and pressed her pussy down on my cock, smashing it flat against my belly. She licked her lips and grinned.

"If we are not lovers, then you raped me."

Oh shit.

"When Johnny went to jail, I cleaned his room and found his hiding place. But I did not find any drugs. I knew he must have had some that night we had dinner together. I wondered what he did with them." She was slowly rubbing her pussy along my cock as she spoke. Her cunt was getting really wet. "If I went to the police now, I’m sure they would find Johnny’s drugs somewhere in your home."

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, and felt my dick responding to her, despite this turn of events.

"The same drugs that a simple test would show to be in my body now, and traces of which are sure to be in the glass you gave me to drink. What do you think the police might say if they found these things, and I told them that you had sex with me?"

"I...I thought you liked it..."

Ingrid grinned and eased me back inside her soft, velvety pussy.

"I did."

"What...what do you want...?"

She didn’t answer. She just took her time with me. Teasing me. She leaned over and kissed me, and I stared up at the ceiling while she fucked me.

Jesus. What the hell did I get myself into this time?