I.

We were sort of outcasts; my girlfriend Donna, Scott, and his girlfriend Linda, and I. We had all been tagged as "gifted" in school, which was much more a curse than a blessing. At the confusing age of 14, who wants to be categorized as different from their peers? Rather than feeling special or advantaged, we felt freakish. As if the gods were determined to punish us further still, with the exception of Scotty, we were among the poorest kids in our middle school, certainly the poorest in our gifted classes. We had other friends, but how do you invite the son of a successful corporate attorney, who lives in a twenty-room mansion, to your three room bungalow, with the freeway whizzing noisily and ceaselessly outside your bedroom window.

Scotty wasn't poor, but he lived under some other cloud. He was perpetually laconic, like an old man trapped in the distorted funhouse of a teenager's body. I accepted his quite and inexplicable sadness, he accepted my abashed poverty. We were friends.

We had found one another almost unconsciously, since to acknowledge our awkwardness and pain was beyond us at that tender age. We just wanted to be normal, and so we pretended among ourselves that we were. I had paired with Donna, the daughter of a couple of recent immigrants from Hungary who barely spoke English. They draped themselves in ostentatious gold chains and Gucci sunglasses, all the while living in an illegal rental unit stuck behind their immigration sponsor's modest house. Donna's house was close by the barren corridor of land empty but for weeds and the tall five story towers that held high tension electrical cables that hummed vigorously twenty four hours a day.
Scott began dating Linda. We double dated a lot, we were too young to do much but go to movies or grab some burgers. Donna was nice, and let me kiss her and cop short feels of her barely formed breasts through her blouse, but I actually felt much closer to Linda. I sometimes envied Scott, as he held Linda's hand at the movies, and wished Linda was my girl.

I'd never met anyone like Linda. She had a fabulous sense of humor, was as bright as me (and at that time and place I thought no one was as bright as me), and had the talent of putting me at ease. This was a talent I did not possess myself, being as nervous and as highly strung as a cat. She was tall and lithe, with straight blond hair parted down the center and almost overlarge expressive eyes that were a light shade of violet. As was the style then, her standard uniform was hip hugger jeans and white cotton peasant blouses. She lived near the city limits, on the main street, at the Ace Motel, which her parents owned and operated.

I found myself drawn to the Ace Motel, dropping in unannounced from time to time to visit with Linda. She didn't seem to mind, and I didn't try to alter our relationship. Her parents didn't seem to mind my visits either, as long as we left the doors to the rooms we were in wide open. She had many chores to do, so I would follow her from room to room as she cleaned up or did the voluminous laundry. We'd drink soda pops and talk. She made a great confidante.

School ended for the year, and as the temperature rose so did my hormone levels. I tried to corner Donna alone whenever I could, but she was not at same stage of sexual development and found my new ardor alarming.

"Stop it! Get your hand out of there!" she cried as I attempted to insinuate my hand down the front of her jeans.

"Don't you like it?" I asked.

She pouted, I disengaged. It went like this for a month, me trying to make some sort of headway, she holding me off. Compounding this was my inexperience. I was almost fifteen, but I was a virgin. I knew little about making love beyond what my penis, which was now more or less in a state of perpetual hardness, drove me to do.

I had no one to tell of this predicament. I was too ashamed to talk about it with Scott, our banter about sexual matters was all hollow Playboy bravado. I sensed his unease at speaking about his own feelings about sex, and allowed things to remain shallow.
Then one afternoon as the temperature crept toward 100 degrees, I left my house with an empty head and a half-stiff penis. My feet took over and before I knew it I had walked the mile and half to the Ace Motel. I went to the office to ask if Linda were in. There was no one there. The door was locked, with a sign reading "Back in an hour, please drop key in mailslot at checkout." I walked through the carport, and headed back through the parking lot to the laundry room. Linda was inside, folding sheets.

"Oh, hi Bobby."

"Hey. Where is everybody?" I told her the office was empty.

"Mom and dad had to drive into the City. Some lawyer business. They won't be back until tonight."

I began to help her fold sheets. It was stifling hot in the small close room, with the humid exhaust of the dryers augmenting the heat of the still summer air.

"Wow, they left you in charge?"

"Sure, they do it all the time. C'mon, let's take these to the rooms."

As we walked back toward the office I noticed that many of the rooms seemed to be occupied, with drawn shades and closed doors. The Ace Motel was two one story buildings, separated by the parking lot, with half a dozen rooms in each wing. Out of the dozen rooms, perhaps eight or nine of them were occupied.

We started at the front, entering the first open door closest to the streets. I helped Linda spread the clean bottom sheet. As she leaned to smooth it I stared at her chest. The heat had made her sweat, and the sheer cotton of her blouse was nearly transparent where it made contact with her body. She was not wearing a bra. I could clearly see her nipples. She looked up at me and caught me staring, smiled, and went back to her job.
We did three rooms, and then retired to the office. She let me come behind the desk, to her parents living quarters. I sat on their sofa, she sat across from me in her dad's Barclounger, and we drank ice tea. I continued to stare at her tits. They seemed much bigger than I'd remembered them. I was getting another stiffy, but I didn't see how I could approach my friend Scott's girlfriend. It seemed a rather pointless erection, one I had a hard time concealing in my short summer cutoff jeans.

Linda told me she was glad I'd come over, because Donna had asked her to talk to me. This made me uneasy, and I naturally jumped to the conclusion that Donna asked Linda to tell her that she wanted to break up with me. This was how these things were done. I shifted in my chair uneasily, both from anxiety and to shift my erection, which was caught in the folds of my underwear.

"Bobby, Donna is really upset. She thinks you're only interested in fooling around, and she doesn't want to go as far as you do. She's afraid you'll break up with her."

I mumbled something about loving her.

Linda continued,
"Listen, I've been having the same problem with Scott."

"Well, boys are more aggressive than girls. We're supposed to want to do it more."

"No, Bobby, it's not like that. I want to do stuff, Scott doesn't want to. He says he's saving himself"

"Saving himself?" This was the stupidest thing I had ever heard. "For what?"

"I don't know. It drives me crazy." She left her chair and joined me on the couch.
She had a funny look in her eyes, as if some kind of veil had fallen over them, as if she were in some sort of trance. She said in a whisper,

"I want to do all kinds of things. I tried with Scott, but he's too scared. Bobby, do you want to do things?"

Did I ever.

"What kind of things?" I wanted to hear her say them as much as I wanted to do them.

Watching her obvious arousal was the sexiest thing I had ever seen.

She leaned into me and we kissed. It was electric, and I groaned. Her petite pointy tongue darted into my mouth, and we put our hands behind each other's heads to hold them together as we let our tongues dance. She broke it off and backed away, our eyes locked.

She said,
"Come with me, I want to show you something."

She jumped up, and I followed. We went out of the office, back towards the laundry room. I was confused, but game. Linda dug into the pocket of her hiphuggers, found what she wanted, and entered the humid room filled with the roar of the dryers. Linda let the heavy door of the laundryroom click shut behind us. She put a key into the lock of what I had always assumed to be a closet door, and flipped a switch. A dim light played through the opening.

She looked over her shoulder, flipping her long blond hair toward me.

"C'mon", she whispered.

I walked through the door and she closed it behind me. We weren't in a closet, but a long narrow hallway. I peered through the gloom, and saw half a dozen rectangles of light reflecting on the back wall. Linda took my hand, brought her other to her mouth and motioned for me to be quiet with a finger to her lips. We walked to the first rectangle of light. It was a window, or more accurately a one-way mirror, looking into one of the rooms. We were overlooking the head of a bed, on which some old bald guy lay snoring in his underwear. An open bottle of vodka sat on the nightstand to his right. A suitcase was open on the floor, its contents haphazardly splayed as if his clothing had exploded. Linda pulled me further down the corridor.

The next room was empty, we'd made the bed and emptied the ashtrays not half an hour before. We walked stealthily up to the next window. We stopped dead in our tracks.
Another man lay on the bed, but he wasn't asleep. He was nude. I wasn't a very good judge of age at that point, but I could tell he wasn't as old as my father. He was smoking a cigarette, and idly playing with his penis, which was thick although semi-hard. I looked at Linda. She was staring openly at the man's cock. Just then, the bathroom door opened and a woman stepped out. She seemed quite a bit younger than the man, and she won my undivided attention. She wasn't naked, but she wore some sort of underwear contraptions I had never seen outside of Penthouse magazines. She had on a corset, stockings, and garters. Her tits pointed proud and uncovered over the corset top, and she wore no panties. She stood at the foot of the bed and ran her hands up her sides, showing off for the man, until she held her arms straight above her head. This had a dual effect, it brought the man on the bed's penis to full length and mine as well. I gulped, and Linda put her finger over my lips this time as a reminder to make no sound.

The women in the room lowered herself to the bed, and walked up between the man's spread legs on her knees. She took hold of his penis, and stroked it lightly, holding it to one side to admire it. I looked at Linda. She admired it too, licking her lips. The woman stroked it, holding it upright, and then squeezed it so that the huge purple head became shiny and taut. Then she leaned forward and put it in her mouth.

My left hand, the one farthest from Linda, wandered to my crotch, and I unconsciously rubbed my dick through my cuttoffs. It was stifling hot in the narrow hallway, and sweat poured down my face. I stole a glance at Linda, and she was dripping. Her sheer blouse was sopping now, and her nipples showed through as if they were peering through holes cut for that purpose. Again our eyes met, and then Linda looked down and saw my left hand gripping my hardon. Linda took hold of the hem of her blouse and pulled it off. I did the same with my t-shirt. Wordlessly we unbuttoned our pants, hooked our underwear with our thumbs, and stepped out of them. We were naked now, our clothes in a pile at our feet. Linda stepped up to me and put her arm around my waist, and pulled me gently back to the window. Linda wanted to watch, and as much as I was drawn to touch her nubile body, I wanted to see what was happening in the room too.

The woman was moving her head up and down over the man's cock. He had his hands on her head, her fingers entwined in her hair. I'd of course never seen a man's erect penis before, and it seemed huge beyond belief. I looked down at my own dick, which was standing straight up against my belly. It didn't seem as long, but it was thick. Linda knelt down, and put her long narrow fingers around it. I grew dizzy. She pulled on me until my cockhead was as taut and engorged as the man in the room. I felt Linda's hot breath on my boydick as she slowly pumped. Then she let go, stood up, and took my hand. She pulled me reluctantly away from the window, farther up the hallway.

We were at the next window. It was dark in the room, the lights were off, but in a moment my eyes adjusted. The bed was empty, but I saw a shape in the straight back chair against the wall, and another standing next to it. The shape in the chair took on definition as my eyes became accustomed to the gloom; it was another man. He sat immobile while the shape standing next to him leaned over him. The shape was a woman, and she was handling the man in a manner than made his head jerk back. The darkness became more and more yielding to my eyes, until I could see nearly everything in fuzzy detail. The woman was pinching the man's nipples. His wrists were tied to the wooden arms of the chair. I looked at Linda, puzzled. This made little sense to me. Why would anyone want to do this?

The woman stepped around to face the man. She opened his knees with one her own. She, like he, was completely nude. She was small, much smaller than the man, with a brown pixie haircut and small tits with obscenely large aureoles. She wore a small black mask, like the Lone Ranger, over her eyes. She reached on the floor and picked something up. It was some kind of switch. She flicked it on the man's thigh, which made him jump. I gasped as she flicked the man's penis with the thin crop. Linda quickly turned to me and put her hand full across my mouth. She took my dick in her other hand and squeezed hard. I calmed down. We embraced once more, and I shifted so I was standing behind her as we continued our voyuerism.

The woman was rhythmically whipping the man's cock. It throbbed and bounced.

Occasionally she would stop with the whip and lightly run a finger over the ridge of his urethra. When the woman was satisfied with her work, she dropped the thin whip on the floor, and spreading her legs over the arms of the chair she pulled herself over the tormented organ she'd just flaggelated to complete tumescence. It swayed and bobbed as if it were searching hungrily for the woman's sex, which hovered no more than an inch above it.

I ran my hand up Linda's torso, finally cupping her full heavy breasts in my palms. Her skin was so smooth, her tits so firm. Linda leaned her head back so we could tongue one another. Her pert round ass ground against my teenage hardness. My cock lodged between her asscheeks, and she arched her back, pushing her cheeks around me. I rocked my hips, fucking her asscheeks. I was close to cumming, covered head to toe in sweat, in a fever caused both by Linda's hot body and the tableaus we were witnessing.

The woman continued her journey up the arms of the chair. She leaned back and put a heel on the chair arm, raising her body until her crotch was in the man's face. She was agile, like a monkey, bent and raised and grasping, clutching the man's head and forcing it between her thighs. The monkey woman ground her sex into the man's face, fucking it. She was in charge, she set the pace, rubbing her pussy up and down the man's mouth, from his chin to his forehead. She rose slightly and humped against his nose in short spasms. Now it was Linda's turn to gasp. She turned to face me, placed her hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees. Her hands drifted up to my ears, and then she pulled me into her. My nose rubbed against the soft golden tufts of her pubic hair, my head gently turning back and forth. Linda parted her legs and pulled me in. I kissed her mound as if it were her mouth. She lifted her left leg and draped it over my shoulder.

Her smell intoxicated me. I pulled back just far enough so that I might look at her, my first look at womanhood. She had the demure cleft of a ripe peach. I took my tongue and parted her split. She pulled my hair, and I buried myself in her. She fucked against me with the same fervor the woman in the room had displayed moments before. Her sex opened for my mouth, the tender lips slippery with the nectar of her excitement. I licked her with broad wipes, then, pointing my tongue, I pierced her, losing myself in the act of tongue-fucking my best friend's girlfriend. I wiggled my tongue deep in her pussy tunnel, reveling in her taste and smell. Her breath was coming faster, in sharp pants. I moaned in sympathy. Neither one of us was in control, dangerous in our position as peeping toms watching adults go about their most private acts through the thin membrane of a one-way mirror.
I fucked Linda's tender teen sex with long tongue-probes of her honeyed hole, pulling out and lapping all the way up to the strawberry blond pubic puff crowning the center of my universe. I noticed when I swiped a certain spot it made Linda spasm, so I concentrated my efforts there. It was near the top of her slit, at the nexus of the folds of her pussy lips, a little crease that grew like a tiny erection. I didn't know this was her clitoris, I just knew that I was driving her crazy, which made my own sex drip clear fluid in a steady slow drip to the floor of the corridor.

Linda grabbed me so hard my nose smashed into her pubic bone, making me see stars. She put a finger in her mouth and bit down to stifle her cries, with only partial success, as she whimpered quietly like a motherless puppy. She rubbed her unbelievably wet pussy back and forth over my face in slower and slower motions. At last she pushed me away, gently but firmly, as if she could stand my ministrations on her most sensitive spot no longer. I glanced to the left, through the window into the dim light of the motel room.

The woman was no longer forcing the man to eat her. She squatted over his lap, bouncing stridently on the man's incredibly long cock. Her hands were locked behind his neck and she used her arms to leverage herself up and down. Linda kneeled down next to me, resting her hand on my thigh. As we watched the adults lewdly fucking, the man tied down but raising his ass high off the chair to meet the monkey woman in mid-stroke, I placed my hand over Linda's and moved it over to my dick, which twitched in sympathetic rhythm to the couple rutting in the motel room. She pulled away, to my disappointment, bringing her hand to her mouth, and then she spat in it. Then she put her hand back on me, slippery with her saliva. She jerked me hard and purposefully. I moved my hips in concert with the man and woman on the chair. My poor fourteen year old boydick, red and raw and hard as a steel bar, twitched and jerked under the rough treatment of Linda's grip. I grunted, I couldn't help it. The couple were fucking faster now, and I kept up their pace as I threaded my penis through the fuck pocket of Linda's fist. I was breathing like a locomotive. The woman inside the room shortened her strokes, and their sounds obliterated my hushed noises. Suddenly the monkey woman sprang off the man, leaving his cock bobbing long and stiff in the air. It waved obscenely, like a cobra ready to strike, as the woman dropped to her knees in front of it. Linda pushed me back a bit so she could lie down on the floor before my own throbbing snake. The mans cock lurched untouched towards his belly, and then he came, in a long white rope that arched and whipped, landing across the monkey woman's masked face. She kneeled with her hands on her knees, not touching the man, a wide smile on her face, as the man gushed three more strings of cum across the short space between them. The cum streams laced her face, like the frosting on a hot cross bun. She stuck her tongue out and lapped at the thick white syrup. My own dick shuddered like an truck engine misfiring, and then Linda's fine thin hand pulled the boycum out of me in a white hot eruption. I looked down as my penis spurted again and again, my jizz thinner than the man in the room but just as copious. Linda lay in front of me, her eyes closed, her lips parted as I sprayed her. She let loose of my dick, and the change in pressure caused my ass to clinch. A wave of orgasmic frenzy that felt pulled all the way from somewhere deep in my ass shot through my nutsack, up my seminal vesicles, and out through my urethra. My one last splooge shot out, thick and strong like mancum, landing on Linda's outstretched tongue.

Linda smeared the mess on her face with her hands, as if she were washing in it. She took her hands, slick with my slime and rubbed them over my cock and balls. I sucked in my breath, now understanding why Linda had pushed me away after her own climax. It was almost too much, the sensations now verging on pain. I was still dripping cum in dollops over her nimble fingers onto the floor. We stank in the hot narrow hallway, our fevered teenage sex sweat and various excretions mingling in a miasmic funk.

Almost as an afterthought, we turned to the room. The couple, who had been lost in their own erotic frenzy the last we'd noticed them, sat attentive like dogs listening for their masters to return from a day's work. The woman rested her hands on the man's knees. The man leaned back, ear cocked. The woman spoke, in a hushed contralto,

"I swear I heard something."

"Me too, hon." The man relaxed. "Probably some of our neighbors enjoying themselves.

You know this place, home of the afternoon delight"

"Hmm. You're probably right, but I could swear it was coming from over there." At that she pointed directly at Linda and I. I ducked involuntarily, as did Linda. It didn't matter that we were peering through the hidden side of a one way mirror, we felt exposed as if we were in the room with them.

The man told the woman not to be so paranoid. And to untie him. He said he have to go home and get cleaned up for dinner. Linda and I crept low, below the mirror-window, to the pile of our clothes. Linda squeezed my hand, and I pulled her to me. We kissed, my face encrusted with her girlcum and her face splattered with my fresh boycum. I realized I loved Linda, beyond the faithless pull of my teenaged groin toward anything in a skirt. She was depraved, and I knew at that moment I was too. We were too all-American teens crouching naked and spent in a hallway of one-way mirrors in a pay by the hour fuck motel, slathered in our own sex juices. We clothed ourselves in silence. I glanced through the window where we'd first watched the woman in the merry widow suck cock, but they had gone, leaving the door open to show they were finished with the room. The sheets lay crumpled and damp.

We left the corridor, and were back in the laundry room. Linda stepped to the utility sink, turned the water on and washed her face. I followed her lead, although I would have gladly worn her cumjuice forever, every intake of my breath bringing me her scent, pungent, almost spicey. But I couldn't very well go home reeking like ten miles of pussy, so I scrubbed myself with a rough towel soaked in soapy water.

When I was done, Linda took my hand and opened the door to the laundyroom. We walked up parking lot to the office. It was getting close to dinner time, and I had to leave. As Linda reached out to unlock the office door, I took her wrist in my hand and pulled her to me. We kissed with incredible passion, no longer simply horny teens, but connected more deeply, implicated together in a secret pact. We didn't speak, neither of us had to remonstrate the other, this was our secret. I knew I'd be back, and as I looked into Linda's violet eyes I knew she wanted me to come back. Our bodies drifted apart and then a car door slammed. I looked over and watched the man who had been tied to the chair put his Buick in gear and back out of the parking place without so much as a glance in our direction. Linda giggled, and I smiled. We pulled our crotches together and rubbed back in forth, in memory and joy. My dick was hard again, a tube of raw nerves after the workout Linda had given it in the darkened hallway. I kissed her some more, I wanted to go on kissing her forever.

A door closed and then footsteps. I looked over Linda's shoulder and saw the monkey woman approaching, no doubt to drop the room key off at the office. I looked incredulously at the small trim woman, unmasked, who was dressed in a short white tennis dress, complete with little white sneakers. I knew this woman!

It was Scott's mother, Alice. She had been the agile woman climbing all over the man tied to the chair, a man I knew was not Scott's dad.

Alice smiled as she approached.

"Hi Bobby, fancy meeting you here."

Linda and I separated, leaning away from each other. Caught, her son's best friend and her son's girlfriend, making out in broad daylight. My cutoffs left little to the imagination. My dick was outlined in sharp relief, poking toward my waistband as if it were suffocating and needed to break free into the fresh air.

Alice walked right between us and let the motel room key, with its oversized plastic tag, drop through the mail slot of the office door. She turned and appraised the two of us, first Linda, then me. She cocked her hip, and placed a nut-brown hand on it. She walked up to me, very close, and I was frozen as if held in a force field.

"Fancy meeting you her with your tongue down my Scotty's girl's throat."

She shot a dark look at Linda, but leaned close to me.

"I don't blame you two, you're beautiful together. But really, if you're going to screw around, do it in private." She poked me angrily in the chest with a tanned brown finger manicured with hotpink nail polish. She let her hand splay against my chest, dragged it down to over my belly, then over the banana lump of my boydick.

"I heard some noises in my room just now. You two know anything about that?"

Linda said no, she didn't, in a high voice.

"Really?" asked Alice in an overdone ironic singsong. She moved her hand from my painfully erect bulge. "Maybe I should ask your mother, Linda. This place has got a bad enough reputation, hate to see it rub off on you."

Linda gulped, at a loss at what to say.

Alice backed away from me, toward the parking lot.

"Why don't we get together and talk about it?"

"Ok", I rasped. I was confused, aroused, frightened, and desperate for a way out of this extremely uncomfortable interaction.

"Tell you what, why don't you two drop by my house tomorrow around lunch. Scott is leaving for camp tomorrow in the morning, this is between you two and me. We'll have a little private chat, just the three of us."

I nodded. Linda nodded. Alice said,

"Good. Just be there, ok, or I'll bring a shitstorm on top of both of you oversexed teenaged lovebirds."

With that she turned and sauntered to her car, a little Sunbeam Sprite. She cranked it over and burned a little rubber on her way out of the parking lot onto Main Street.

"Uh, I gotta go now."

Linda just said sure. Then she looked at me wide-eyed and said,

"Are you going to her house tomorrow?"

"What choice do we have?"

Linda agreed. I longed to kiss her goodbye a last time, I loved her more now than ever, but I also felt completely and utterly exposed. I lurched to the street and lumbered home.

As I entered my house I smelled dinner, meatloaf from the reek of it. I let the screen door slam behind me. My mother poked her head out of the kitchen.

"Hello Bobby, what's my golden boy been up to all day."

"Nothing, mom," I replied sullenly as I headed for my room. The typical teen, home from a typical teen day, answering the typical question from his mother with the typical teen reply. I slammed my bedroom door behind me and jumped belly first on my bed, my brain awash in sordid shame and randy memories of a darkened corridor with rectangle of light reflected on the wall.

II.

I woke up soaking with sweat, rolled up like a burrito in my bed covers. It was eleven o'clock, and the summer sun had already turned our little house into an oven. My room smelled like a subway tunnel. I extricated myself from my percale straight jacket and pulled a clean white t-shirt and pair of cutoff's from my chest of drawers. I had to shake a leg if I was going to get up to Scott's house by noon.

My family lived in the flatlands, which caught the heat and smog of the long summers and baked us all like ants under a magnifying glass. Scott's house was up in the hills, in a development with unnecessarily winding roads with names like Windemere Circle and Brigadoon Lane. In a car I could be up there in fifteen minutes, but on my skateboard, uphill most of the way, it would take almost an hour

I was so anxious I arrived at Scott's house at a quarter to twelve. I walked down Lullabye Court to the Acker's familiar ranch style home, a breeze was at my back, drying the sweat on my back and leaving a thin coat of sweat on my skin. I stood before the dutch door and knocked.

Alice Acker, my best friend's mom, answered the door and looked up at me and smiled. She wore a tiny pink bikini, with a see through black over shirt that did nothing to hide her body from me. Mrs. Acker was in her early forties, just five feet tall, tanned deep brown, and lithe and fit from endless afternoons of tennis and swimming.

"Well come on in, Bobby."

She had always been one of the cool moms, laughing at Scott and my stupid boy jokes and generally treating us with a knowing congeniality. She seemed no different now. Her round elfin features beamed as if she were genuinely glad to see me, instead of granting me an audience as the result of the summons she had given me in the parking lot of the Ace Motel the day before.

She took my arm at the elbow and led me into the living room, and the heat from her body next to mine made me dizzy.

"Is Linda here yet?"

"Not yet. Don't worry about her, Bobby. I'm actually glad we have a minute or two alone."
I was sweating again, now more from nerves than heat. Alice guided me into the kitchen.
"Would you like something to drink? Some juice?'

"Sure."

Mrs. Acker poured a tall pewter glass full with orange juice from a pitcher. She handed it to me, and I watched a foggy skin of condensation form, describing the level of the juice inside the glass. It was safer keeping my eyes on my drink, because when I lifted my gaze to Mrs. Acker, whose big round nipples were plainly erect under her tiny thin swimsuit top, my adolescent penis pulsed ominously in my Jockey shorts. I took a big gulp, and choked into my free hand.

"Oh, that's a screwdriver. Sorry, I hope you don't mind a little vodka."

I'd never had a mixed drink with liquor in it before.

"No, that's ok, Mrs. Acker."

She sat at the kitchen table and crossed her legs. I kept my eyes lower, but they were drawn to Mrs. Ackers narrow small feet. I don't know why, but the stretched tendons of her ankles, and the long toes crowned by toenails painted the same hot pink as her bikini gave me a heavy feeling in my gut. That pressure drop was accompanied by a thickening of my cock. Then she ambushed me,

"How long have you and Linda been screwing?"

"Gosh, we haven't been, Mrs. Acker, honest."

"Too bad. You guys looked pretty intimate the other day. If you aren't screwing yet, you will be soon. I know about this stuff."

"Mrs. Acker, I feel awful about yesterday. I didn't plan to do anything, it just happened. Scott's my best friend. I wouldn't do anything to hurt him."

Alice Acker shut me up.

"Listen, Bobby, listen, I don't really care about you and your little affairs. You're very young, Bobby. It's only natural you'd be attracted to Linda, and just about anything else with tits and a pussy. And Scotty? Don't worry about that boy."

"Don't worry? But I'm in love with his girlfriend!"

Scott's mom sighed,

"Love."

She said,
"I'm need to tell you something about your best friend. Wait here a minute."

She jumped up and left me staring into my dwindling cocktail. I felt warm on the inside, and cooler on the outside. I was not quite so afraid anymore. My fear was replaced by sexual tension.

Mrs. Acker strode back into the kitchen carrying some magazines, which she fanned out and dropped on the table in front of me. They were an assortment of smutty picture books, but the models on the covers were not naked girls with come hither looks, but buffed and cut guys with monster wangers and stupid leers.

"Wha-what are these?"

"Those, Bobby, are Scotty's secret midnight readings. They're what he jerks off to. Linda must suspect something, whenever she gets near him his skin starts to crawl."

"You mean Scott's g-g-gay?"

"As a three dollar bill. He just won't admit to himself" She paused and downed her screwdriver in one swallow, then poured herself another.

"Not that I care, Bobby, some of my best friend are homos. I just wish he'd get it sorted out. It's causing him no end of grief. I think he thinks he's going crazy."

"Wow."

"Yeah, wow. But I didn't invite you up here to talk about my queer son."

Mrs. Acker took the purse that was hanging on the back of her chair, opened, and pulled out the mask she'd been wearing the day before, when she did all those nasty things to the man tied to the chair.

"Does this look familiar, Bobby?"

I sat with my mouth open looking at the mask. Mrs. Acker stood up and put it on.

I stammered,
"Nnnnno, Mrs. Acker," but my body betrayed me with by revealing a deep blush of shame.

My breathing became ragged and I saw stars.

Mrs. Acker smiled beneath the mask, her brown eyes sparking.

"I don't believe you."

She stepped close to me, and gently ran her fingers over my cheek.

"You're blushing, Bobby."

I looked down again. She said,

"I heard noises yesterday, but I couldn't tell from where. Then I figured it out. The mirror over the bed. What did you see, Bobby? Tell me what you saw."

I began to cry. I was so scared. What did she want from me? She stood in front of me, so close her legs were touching mine, with her hand on my shoulder.

"I saw you. I saw you naked, doing it to that man!"

"Doing what?"

"Whipping his peter. making him kiss your thingy." I didn't have the vocabulary for this sort of discourse. And talking like this with a grown woman was beyond embarrassing. It was incredibly arousing.

"And Linda was watching with you, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And what were you two doing while you watched me fucking."

I couldn't believe Mrs. Acker was talking to me like this. I was gripped by a mixture of terror and sexual excitement. . My heart was racing, my boydick was fully engorged, hidden by my hunched body.

"We were were screwing around. We were naked too and feeling each other out"

"Hmmmm, I thought so." She lifted the mask from her beaming face. She was obviously enjoying my discomfort.

She pushed against my torso, raising me from my semi fetal slump. She pressed my chest toward the back of the kitchen chair and slid her legs between mine, raising a knee to climb onto my lap. Her tiny tits with the puffy nipples were level with my eyes. I longed to lean forward and suck on those nipples. Her hands were linked behind my neck and her even breath, edged with vodka, gently rustled my hair. Her knee pressed into my hardon and she stopped.

"You like this, don't you Bobby?"

I wiggled on the chair, which only served to rub the bulge in shorts against the shiny skin of Mrs. Acker's knee.

"Your dick tells me you like it a lot. How would you like me to teach you about sex? Would you like to learn how to please a woman"

"I- I guess so, Mrs. Acker"

"Oh, Bobby, you're so cute when you're shy. I'd forgotten males could be so sweet. " She splayed her thighs across my lap and ground her crotch against mine. "Listen up. First lesson, call me Ma'am. That will be your secret name for me while I show you how to be nasty."

"Ok, Mrs. Acker. I mean, Ma'am."

"That's a good boy."

To my disappointment she slid back off me. She grabbed something out of her purse, and turned back to me. Then my best friend's mother firmly grabbed one of my wrists and I heard a click. I looked down to watch her place a second set of handcuffs on my other wrist, manacling me to the kitchen chair. She stood back from me, arms crossed, admiring her handiwork. I looked at her, standing over me. Even though she was six or seven inches smaller than I, she exuded a power that washed over me. Mrs. Acker went to a drawer, and I heard it slide open, but since her back was toward me I couldn't see what she was doing. She walked behind me, and then my best friend's mother leaned over me and began to cut my t-shirt with a pair of sewing scissors, from the neck opening down my chest untilit hung open in two halves.

"Please don't hurt me, Ma'am."

Mrs. Acker didn't say anything. She pinched my nipples with the long hot pink fingernails of her right hand. I'd never thought of my nipples as anything special, but an electric shock ran down straight from Mrs. Acker's fingertips to my teenaged nuts. I sucked my breath in.

"Does that hurt?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Good. But, I am going to hurt you, Bobby, just a little." She twisted my nipple and I squirmed.

"Ow!"

But she didn't stop, she reached over with her other hand and rubbed the tip of the nipple she was tormenting with a finger she'd wet with her saliva. I thrashed in the chair, unable to rise because of the restraints. My dick had lengthened in a straight line down my leg, and had escaped the leg hole of my underwear, threatening to poke out of my cutoffs.
Mrs. Acker let go of my nipple, and lazily walked around my chair. She stood over me with her hips jutting out toward me, one hand at her breast twisting her own nipple through the sheer lycra of her bikini. A dark patch of dampness showed on the sheer bikini bottom.

She hissed,
"A little hurt feels good."

She pulled at both her nipples, and they raised in fat relief against the pink of her suit. She twisted so she could dig down into her purse, and then reached out to pinch my nipples again, this time with both hands. I looked down and saw she'd placed two small black plastic clothespins on my tormented teats. My butt slid back and forth across the seat of my chair.

Then, satisfied with the result, she kneeled in front of me, reached out and undid the buttons of my cutoffs.

"Raise your ass, boy."

She yanked off my shorts and underwear in one pull, and left them bunched at my ankles. My boydick slapped against my stomach.

"Mmmm, look at that! No wonder Linda is hot for you." She spread my knees, licked a finger, and ran it up the length of my teenage hardon from my ball sack to the band of skin connecting my shaft to the helmet-shaped head. She waggled her finger over the most sensitive part of me, and my dick pulsed and beat against my stomach. A big drop of precum gathered at my peehole. I wasn't going to last long like this, I was a few short breaths from pouring my seed onto Mrs. Acker's hand.

She said, with a somewhat mirthful concern,
"You're about to cum, aren't you?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Reaching behind her without looking, she rummaged around in her purse, her bag of endless tricks, and then cupped the treasure she had found in front of her in her diminutive palm. She held a contraption made from a couple of black rubber o-rings, held together with a thin leather strap. Mrs. Acker harvested the clear fluid gathering in the tip of my dick and rubbed the viscous boyjuice on the device. When it was slippery enough to suit her, she took the smaller of the two o-rings and rolled it over the bulging head of my cock. With a little difficulty she slid it down my shaft to the base.
"That should check some of your boyish enthusiasm."

Then she expertly gathered my testicles, pulled them away from my body, and stretched the larger of the o-rings over them. She let the o-ring snap tight. That seemingly did it. I arched my back, expecting to shoot my sperm across the room. But nothing happened! My orgasm was stifled by the constraining embrace of the tight rubber rings. Instead of a climax, my cock grew more filled with blood. My veins stood out in sharp relief and my crown became as big and taut and purple as a ripe plum.

"Ooooh yes, Bobby, just in time."

Then the doorbell rang.

"There's Linda now. Don't bother getting up, I'll get it." She pulled my underwear and cutoffs up my legs, and when I lifted my behind she buttoned me as best she could. Mrs. Acker added sternly as she left the room, "And don't you dare make a sound."

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied feebly.

Imprisoned in the kitchen chair, I had the dawning realization that I would do anything my best friend's mother asked. Everything she had done to me so far had been so wrong, although just a lad I knew this, but it felt so good. My boycock strained against the rubber rings surrounding my shaft and balls, my arms involuntarily raised off the arms of my chair and pulled at the handcuffs.

I thought of Linda! Jesus, my mind was spinning. Yesterday I had fallen in love with her, today I'm tied to a chair, my erect cock waving blindly in the air, in the sunlit kitchen of the mother of my best friend.

I heard Mrs. Acker open the door, then she and Linda were talking, making innocent small talk.

Mrs. Acker said,

"You must be baking. Do you want to change into a bathing suit or something?"

My sweet Linda's voice replied that she hadn't brought one.

"I have tons, sweetie, follow me."

I held my breath waiting for them to enter the kitchen. I had no idea how Linda was going to react when she found me in my peculiar state, but I found I didn't care. But they didn't come in. Their voices faded as they wandered off to the other side of the house.

Then their voices returned, heading for me.

"I don't know, Mrs. Acker, this suit seems awfully small."

"Nonsense, it really sets off your figure. I have little surprise for you."
Mrs. Acker entered followed by Linda, who was wearing a white bikini that may have fit Mrs. Acker, but did nothing more for Linda than accentuate her ripe curvaceous body. The bottoms of Linda's breasts swayed exposed beneath the thin strip of the suit top, and the bottom had already crept up her luscious butt cheeks. She glanced down at me and said hi. Mrs. Acker beckoned for her to sit in the chair across from me She poured Linda a screwdriver.

"Bobby and I have been spending a little time together, chatting about what happened yesterday."

"Oh."

"But don't you worry your little head about that, we straightened everything out, didn't we Bobby?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Linda's attention wandered to the stack of magazines on the table. She gingerly picked up one that had a closeup of a great veined dick with a young boy's lips wrapped around it. Her eyes were taking on the glaze I recognized as lust. She licked her lips and flipped through the pages of slick color photographs, stopping now and then when a particular dick caught her attention.

"Those are Scotty's. Go ahead and check them out. It think they might answer a lot of your questions "

Linda was absorbed in a magazine with a pictorial showing three truckers gripping each other's cocks. She was breathing deeply, like the day before when she ogled the men's cocks through the one-way mirror at the Ace Motel.

"Scott likes this?" Her fingers carressed the pictures as if she were softly touching the full hard members they represented.

Mrs. Acker replied,
"It looks as if you both like it." Linda smiled an evil grin. "I like it too. A big hard dick in my mouth, mmmm, yummy! Have you ever a sucked a cock, Linda?"

Linda put the magazine down, embarrassed by the frank question. It was then she noticed the handcuffs on my wrists. She leaned forward and held my hands.

"Oh, Bobby! Are you ok? What has she been doing to you?"

Mrs. Acker, leaning back against the counter, snorted,

"Nothing he didn't appreciate, right Bobby?"

Linda looked me in the eyes, spreading the two halves of my t-shirts to expose the clothespins still pinching my nipples. She touched them, confused, fascinated. She pulled them gently. The pressure on my tortured boytitties was exquisite. My eyes burned as my girlfriend stroked the pins.

"Oh, I'd forgotten about those. Why don't you take those off him, sweetie."

Linda released the pressure on my poor boytits. In a fit of spontaneity she took first one then the other of my nipples in her soft pink lips. A groan escaped my lips.

"Boys are so much easier to handle when they're like this, horny and tied up. You saw me fuck that guy yesterday. I wouldn't let that creep near me without handcuffs. He's all sweaty hands and bad breath until he's tied to a bed. Then I can concentrate on his sweet long cock..."

Linda's hands drifted down to my crotch. She fondled my dick through my shorts. Mrs. Acker was watching us with heavy lidded eyes, one hand on one of her nipples, the other playing lazily at the leg opening of her swimsuit bottom. She hooked that finger up, and it disappeared into her thick thatch of pubic hair.

Linda looked over her shoulder and implored the older woman,

"Teach me, Mrs. Acker. I want to learn how to do it like you did. I want to tie Bobby up and make him eat me like you did to that man yesterday."

"Good for you, sweetie. There's nothing better, I'm telling you."

My best friend's mother, my mistress, walked behind me and leaned over me, unbuttoning my cutoffs. Linda tugged them off and gasped when she saw my penis.

"It's so big!"

"It's the cockrings, sweetie. See them there, at the base of his cock? They keep the blood in his dick and his jizz in his balls. They make him get bigger and stay harder."

Linda encircled me with her hand. She stared at my cock, hypnotized, then leaned over it. I felt my head engulfed in her soft lips. Her tongue flicked tentatively on my piss slit. Linda hooked her long straight blond hair behind her ears to get it out of the way and took half of my cock in her warm mouth. She sucked hard, her cheeks went concave, and she drew me out. I'd never felt anything so good.

Mrs. Acker observed from over my shoulder, "You're a quick study. Jack him off a little while you're doing that."

Linda did as she was told. She made a circle of her thumb and forefinger and slipped my dick through it. Her tongue washed under my helmet. She licked me down to where the rubber o-ring was nearly embedded in my dickflesh. Linda swirled her tongue round and round. She attempted to plunge me deep into her mouth, but started to gag.

"Relax your throat and breath through your nose, sweetie."

Linda did as she was told. Her mouth surrounded me and began a slow inexorable descent, until her nose bumped into my groin. My cock undulated past her tongue and down her throat, which massaged me with an erratic peristalsis as it tried to rid itself of the alien intrusion. I watched my boydick ooze back out of her mouth millimeter by millimeter, covered in heavy saliva.

"Mmmm, that spit from the back of your throat makes an excellent lubricant."

Scott's mother drifted around me, and she knelt down beside my teenage lover. She reached behind Linda and undid the tie holding her bikini top. The day before in the darkened hallway of the Ace Motel, I had held Linda's firm tits in my hand, but in the dimness I had not really seen them. Now they stuck out from her chest, full and pale and pink. Her nipples were a delicate shade darker than the surrounding flesh, small and hard. Mrs. Acker took one of these between her knowing fingertips and twirled it slowly. Her hand pressed the teen forward into me, and then the forty year old had my distended prick in her other hand. She brought both hands together, and then she was grazing Linda's nipple against my cock. Linda shifted slightly, and her hand joined Mrs. Acker's on my dick and then she was rubbing me against her other tit. A string of clear teen juice oozed out of me and stretched from my cock to the pink peak of Linda's lovely breast. Mrs. Acker massaged my precum into Linda's nipple, then brought her fingers to Linda's mouth.

"Taste him, Linda, taste this little boy slut's dick juice."

Mrs. Acker dropped her hands and undid the strings of Linda's bikini bottom. Mrs. Acker rubbed the creamy globes of my girlfriends has, then her hands were out of my view, but from Linda's movements I could tell she must have been working on her pussy.
Linda stood up and kissed me on the mouth. I tasted my own sex, musty and strong, on her tongue. Mrs. Acker's hands ran over the young girl's body, dipping between her milky thighs and curling in her fine pubic hairs. Linda tensed and drew away from me. She raised a leg and rested a foot on my thigh. Our forty year old sex teacher inserted a finger between Linda's delicate pussy lips. The fourteen year old leaned against Mrs. Acker's hand and two fingers, then three disappeared into her virgin fuckhole. Mrs. Acker whispered,

"Bobby was telling the truth, you've never fucked, have you Linda?" Her robing fingers bunched against Linda's maidenhead.

"Ooooh, no." Linda raised and lowered herself on the delicious fingers probing her sex.

"You'd love to, wouldn't you?"

"Mmmm, yes, I want to fuck and fuck and fuck!"

"Turn around, then."

Linda turned so her back was toward me. Mrs. Acker removed her fingers from her pussy and positioned her so her thighs rested on the chair arm above my manacled wrists, her weight temporarily resting on my slouching abdomen. I could no longer see what was going on, but in a moment I felt my penis engulfed by Mrs. Acker's mouth once more. Then she let me go, and Linda pressed against me, and I knew the suburban mother was mouthing the teen's pussy. Mrs. Acker alternated between us, driving us both to a frenzy. Somewhere in this dance of lips and cock and cunt, Linda began to lower herself on my body. I felt a new kind heat, a tight squeezing. I was fucking Linda, my first fuck, just barely, the girl lowering and raising herself gingerly so I barely penetrated her lips. She was groaning and heaving. Mrs. Acker continued to lap at our privates, now with one continuous movement. Linda was responding more to Mrs. Acker's tongue than my dick, because suddenly her hips rutted against the forty- year-old's mouth in a sharp orgasm.

"Hnnn, hnnn, hnnnn."

I felt a tongue flicking rapidly on the underside of my dick, at least the part that wasn't embedded in Linda. Linda's hips moved in tight circles, gradually and slowly drawing me further and further up her cunt tunnel. I was gasping into her hair. Finally, after a seeming eternity, I was buried full on in Linda. At that moment she stopped, panting.

"It hurts, Mrs. Acker, oh God, it hurts! Oh God, it feels so good!"

Her pussy spasmed around me, and her shoulders hunched. Her whole body tensed. Her pussy squeezed me so hard I thought I was passing out. Then she went limp on me, but her cunt walls continued to squeeze and release me in spasms that became slowly weaker and less frequent.

Mrs. Acker stood, and lifted her gently up and off my still steel hard prick.

"Here Linda, sit down and rest. That was something. I came just watching you!"
Linda slumped into the chair across from me, and I slumped too, frustrated but alert.
Mrs. Acker went to the sink and dampened a paper towel. She came back to Linda and tenderly washed the teenager's no longer virgin pussy. Mrs. Acker smiled down at a small red spot of blood on the paper towel.

"Congratulations, Linda."

She tossed the soiled towel in the corner, and glanced over at me.

"You too, lover. That was your first time too, huh?"

"Yes, Ma'am", I croaked.

"Ah, poor thing, you're all tense."

My jaw was clinching and relaxing. My arms were straining against my restraints. I felt as if my whole body was an erect penis, and I wanted to cum. I pleaded with Mrs. Acker with my eyes, even after what we'd just done I was too shy to ask with words.
Mrs. Acker crawled to me on all fours, her bathing suit lost in the mad shuffle of the last few minutes. She climbed me like a tree, her hands on my shoulders kneading me loose, massaging my kinks. Her nipples floated before me, puffy and full. Sensing my desire, she put one of her silver dollar sized tips in my mouth. I sucked like a man dying of thirst. The agile housewife pressed her crotch against mine, and her pubic thatch rasped against my tender cock. Her cunt lips splayed against my rod, and she dragged her wetness up and down my length. I sucked the middle-aged woman's full nipples like I'd seen Linda handle my cock, bringing it into my mouth with suction, then pulling my head back as I released her. Her nipple doubled in size. Mrs. Acker was what I would have considered flat-chested, but what tits she had were nearly all maddeningly and incredibly arousing domed nipple.

"Oh, yes Bobby, that's good." My sex teacher ground herself on my captive cock, and the combination of her soft warm cunt flesh and the bristle of her stiff pubic hair tormented and delighted me.

She took her tit from my slobbering lips, raised a bit, took expert aim, lowered again, and then I was in her, all the way. She was not the tight ecstasy of Linda, but her heat matched the heat of my cock, and she was so wet with lubrication that it was like my cock was enveloped in silk soaked in honey. She raised once more until I was almost jettisoned from her, and then proceeded to bounce on me in a steady rut.

"Ohhhh yes, fuck me with that big dick."

"Ahhhhh, yes Ma'am."

"Ohhhhh, Christ that's good. You're so much sweeter than that asshole used car salesman. So strong, so hard."

She screwed me with long corkscrew motions. I considered sucking her tits again, but became enraptured at the sight of this housewife, this sexy monkey of a mother, straining against my fourteen year old prick. It looked so nasty, my dick disappearing and reappearing in the dark purple of her outer pussylips. Her lips grasped my cock, so hard that on the outstroke they pooched out, with tiny little veins crisscrossing the bright pinkness of her inner pussy. Faster and faster she pumped, and I would have cum ten times over if not for the rubber o-rings she'd stuck on me earlier. Mrs. Acker increased the speed of her grind. Passion, however, was turning into pain as Mrs. Acker's rapid and frenetic fucking created an unbearable friction on my wornout dick.

Mrs. Acker bounced and bounced. I felt something or someone grabbing my ankles, I looked down to see Linda lifting my legs, pulling my ass to the edge of the chair. She had one of Scott's queer magazines open, and appeared to be trying to emulate some scenario she'd found and liked. Mrs. Acker continued apace. Linda traced a finger up my thigh, and rubbed my nuts like an Alladin's lamp. I felt something funny, a tickle between my buttcheeks, becoming more focused, a palpitation on my asshole. Linda's other hand flickered over my dick on Mrs. Acker's upstrokes. She took Mrs. Acker's pussy juices from my cock and massaged them on my ass bud. Then, pressure as Linda slowly inserted a finger up my virgin asshole, forcing me up into Mrs. Acker's voracious pussy. Linda wiggled her finger in my rectum, and I uttered some unintelligible sting of vowel sounds.She pulled the finger out, then reapplied her pressure with two fingers. My ass accepted Linda's probing fingers, relaxing as she began to fuck me, building to the same rhythm Mrs. Acker was using to impale herself on my prick.

"Oh God, I don't know what you're doing down there, Linda, but don't you fucking stop!"

Mrs. Acker grimaced, biting her lip, and jammed herself down on me hard, once, twice, three times. Linda widened my ass with her fingers, and one of them hit a spot inside me that made me see bright stars. The small rubber o-ring holding me back broke then, releasing my cock from its imprisonment. A rush of blood filled it even further, and Mrs. Acker tightened her pussy around it as she came in a wave of orgasms. The sperm that had been churning for over an hour down in my testicles while these two women played with me as if I were their toy began to piston its way out of me. Mrs. Acker's insides rippled against my velvet hardness, and then I exploded. My cock felt as if it had burst, and then as if it were a garden hose as my jizz spurted into my best friend's mother. My dick contracted and pumped again and again. I felt as if I were emptying my whole being into the twitching heat of her sex. I didn't want this to ever end.

Mrs. Acker reacted to my orgasm with more of her own. She dug her nails into my shoulders, raking them, drawing long scratches down my chest. I didn't care. I was yelling with my mouth wide open, still throbbing though my dick had shot out every drop of cum in my body.

Mrs. Acker fell against me, spent. Linda slowly pulled her fingers out of my rectum, which burned from her somewhat brutal finger fucking. Mrs. Acker lifted off me and stood shakily on the kitchen floor, looking down at Linda and I. We were both sopping with sweat and sex secretions. My teenage dick was sore, but still hard.

"Cleanup time, Bobby", said my insanely sexy middle aged love tutor. She scampered up the arms of the chair, put one of her limber legs over my shoulder, and presented me with her sex, wide open and oozing my own sperm. I got queasy. This was counter everything I ever thought erotic. Then choice flew out the window as Mrs. Acker simply pulled my reluctant face into her mess.

"Lick me, boy. Open wide and swallow your load, you little slut."

My ears burned. I was her little slut, her and Linda's. I lapped and swallowed, feeling my own slime slide down my gullet. My ass hurt, my cock ached. I felt enormously happy. I was Mrs. Acker's sperm slurping cum slut, and my girlfriend Linda's toyboy buttslut. I'd finally found a place for myself in a cruel and indifferent universe. I licked and swallowed until Mrs. Acker's vagina ran clear juices untainted by my boy jizz. She uncoiled herself off my face and said.

"Alright you kids, you better jump into the shower and skedaddle. Mr. Acker will be home from work in about half an hour, and I want you gone before." She tossed the keys to the handcuffs to Linda and wandered out of the room.

Before she unlocked me, Linda gave me a long and passionate kiss.

We found the shower by ourselves. We kissed and stroked one another under the refreshing stream of pulsing water. Both our genitals were extremely sore to the touch, but we couldn't keep our hands of and out of one another. A loud knock on the shower door woke us up.

"C'mon you guys, chop chop. I'm not kidding, I want you out of here right now!"

We dressed in a rush. Mrs. Acker pushed us toward the door, clucking. We stood on the front step, suddenly awkward and confused in the big world, the world that universally condemned what we'd just done. Mrs. Acker regarded us for a moment and her face softened.

"Go home, you two. Or go somewhere and make love to each other some more. You're so lovely, and young"

She leaned toward Linda and gave her an affectionate peck on the cheek. Then it was my turn. Mrs. Acker turned her cute face to mine, raised on her toes, and gave me a full french kiss. She leaned into me and whispered in my ear,

"I'm going to call you soon, and when I ask you to come to me you come, right Bobby?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She backed into the house and closed the door. Linda and I blinked at each other, speechless. My hand found hers and we began the long walk home.