The Old Man, the Boy and Louise Zagorski

an Adventure on the Road, by Varkel

Copyright © 2003, Kellis and Varangian

 

 

Those were shots!

Though Bill was old enough to remember backfiring engines on city streets, the cadence of these crashes was more appropriate to an exchange of gunfire.

He had just left the drive-through ATM and stopped, still in the bank parking lot, to insert the new travel cash into his wallet.  Gunshots near a bank?  While stuffing the wallet back into his pants, he glared around at the cityscape, deciding that the shots were too loud, even through closed car windows, to have been fired within the solidly built bank.  Was he himself in any danger?

His apprehension increased when a running figure with a flight bag held high out of the way appeared at the corner of the bank and sped toward his car.  It was clothed in a jogging suit and sneakers and ran like a deer.  Bill’s eyes widened and he jerked his transmission lever down one notch to Drive.  Before he could stomp the accelerator, however, the figure drew close enough to see the face.

Reddened lips were drawn back in a grimace of terror. The bouncing chest finally registered in Bill’s mind.  This was a woman, apparently running for her life!

Normally he was the soul of caution, but a female in distress called to something deep in his character.  Impulsively he beckoned to her and swept the pointing finger around toward his passenger door.  She swerved immediately behind the back of the car.  He remembered in time to hit the automatic unlock as she snatched the door open and fell into the seat.

Acceleration slammed the door as the car darted out onto the street, at that moment empty of traffic.  Having straightened out at cruising speed, he made a quick study of his passenger.  Panting, she had twisted around in the seat to look behind them, bent down so that her brown hair, drawn back in a youthful ponytail, hardly rose above the seatback.  She felt his gaze and turned brown eyes to his.  Despite the ponytail, this was a mature woman, probably in her thirties.  Obvious consternation did not diminish the oval face’s attractiveness.

“What happened back there?” Bill asked.

“A shoot out,” she gasped, adding after a couple breaths, “Isn’t that what … you call it?”

“What did you see?”

“I was … coming out of the bank after cashing a check.  A man pushed past me — a masked man!”  She paused for breath.

“Did he say anything?”

“No.  He turned around with a gun and shot back into the bank.  Another gun went off behind me.  Oh, god, oh god!”  Suddenly her hands covered her face.  “I saw him get it in the neck.  His mask flew off and the blood just sprayed!”

She snuffled and moaned between gasps.  A tear appeared on the end of her nose between her hands.

Bill braked and pulled to the curb.  His hand patted her shoulder.  “You poor kid, having to witness something like that!  Take it easy.  Are you hurt?”

“N-no,” she sobbed.  Suddenly she flung herself on him, leaning over the CD console, an arm across his chest pulling her wet face into his neck.  “Oh, my god!” she moaned, shivering in terror.

Bill’s foot applied the parking brake.  His arms went around her and he made soothing noises with her head tucked under his chin.  She smelled faintly of cologne and the beginning of female sweat.

When she had recovered her breath, she pulled away — reluctantly, he thought — and emitted an embarrassed laugh through her tears.  “I guess you think I’m crazy as a loon.”

Bill’s departed wife had trained him to carry a handkerchief for those little nasal emergencies to which everyone is susceptible.  Drying his passenger’s cheeks was finally a good use for it!  “No, I don’t think you’re crazy at all, just scared out of your wits.”

She sighed.  “I’m a big coward.”

He shook his head.  “Where I come from, cowardice is no shame in a woman.  After her kids she has to protect herself.  Are you starting to feel better?”

“I … I guess.”  She heaved a larger sigh and her expression grew more cheerful.  She blinked at him.  “I sure am glad you were sitting there!”

“You’re welcome.  My name is Bill Simon.”

“Louise.  Louise Zagorski.”

The pretty face had a faintly Slavic cast.  He guessed, “Polish?”

She shrugged.  “Back there somewhere.”

“I’m glad to meet you, Louise, even under these circumstances.  Do you want to go back to the bank and become a witness?”

Her eyes flashed.  “Absolutely not!”

He chuckled.  “I don’t blame you.  Hear that?”  They listened to the growing sound of sirens.  “Maybe we ought to mosey along.”  He released the brake and pulled gently away from the curb.  “Where can I take you?”

She settled back into the passenger seat, found the seat belts and pulled them across her body.  Looking straight ahead, she answered, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

She took a deep breath.  “Would you believe it?  I was on my way out of town, stopped at the bank to cash my last unemployment check.”

“Where’s your car?”

“Car?”  She huffed bitterly.  “What car!  I meant to walk to the bus station and try my luck in another state.”

He flicked her a glance.  “That sounds like you’re all alone.  How can a woman as pretty as you be all alone?”

Her voice softened.  “Thanks, Bill.”  She sighed again but smiled slightly.  “Did you ever love something too much — whisky, for example?  Anything you love too much is hard on you.”

He smiled.  “You don’t look like a drunk — and you certainly don’t smell like one.”

“That was just an example.  My weakness is men.”

“Men?”

“But I can’t keep one around.”

“Why not?”

“Good question!  They all say I smother them.”

“Do you?”

“I don’t know.  I know I’ve always loved them, even when I was a little girl.”

He chuckled thoughtfully.  “That’s an interesting problem.”

“To a man, maybe…  Bill, we’re going away from the bus station.”

He succumbed to another impulse.  “Want a ride, Louise?”

“Huh?  Where?”

“I’m headed to St. Louis.”

“Missouri?”

“Do you know another one?”

She regarded him speculatively.  “From Baltimore to St. Louis!  Did your wife go on ahead, Bill?  What’ll she say about you picking up a man-loving woman?”

“I have no idea.  She really went on ahead, as you put it.  Our divorce was final last year.”

“Oh.”  She laughed softly.  “Excuse me, Bill.  I hate to jump to conclusions like that, but a good wife is usually responsible when a man your age — about 60? — is in good health.  Guess I should’ve realized you’re alone.”

“Why should you?”

“No pot-belly.”

“Thanks.  I’m 63 but I play a lot of golf.  If we’re going to exchange confidences, you look to be in your thirties.  Where are the kids you ought to have by now?”

“How many do you have?”

“One.”  Bill sighed.  “But don’t ask me where he is.  His mother left me too.”

She grinned.  “Sounds like you’ve had about as much luck with women as I have with men.”

“In terms of their sticking around, you may be right.  I’ve been married twice.”

“At least you did that.”

“How about you?”

She shook her head.  “Somehow I never got around to it.  Will you really take me with you to St. Louis?”

“You bet!”

“Well!”

Her tone was one of pleased surprise.  He glanced around to a bright smile and responded in kind.  “I have business in St. Louis, but it’ll wait.  I thought I’d look over the country a bit.  I warn you, I’m in no rush.”

She scoffed, “Did you think I was?”

“You were certainly on the run the first time I saw you!”

“Not any more.  Bill, I’d love to go to St. Louis with you.”

“Great!  Uh, want to pick up anything before we hit the road?”

She patted the flight bag between her feet.  “Everything I own is in here.”

“Okay.  I plan to take I70 west.  That all right with you?”

“Sure.  You say you’ve been married twice?  Then you know that women’s bladders are smaller, don’t you?”

“I’ve reached that conclusion, yes.  I see a filling station at the end of the block.  Want to stop?”

“Please.”

She took the bag with her into the building.  Topping off his tank, he wondered if she would duck out the other door, but when he went in to pay, she met him at the cash register with snacks for both of them, then followed him out to the car.

“That guy behind the counter was cute,” she observed around her mouthful of cracker as he pulled back into traffic.

“Why didn’t you make a play for him?”

“I saw his wedding band.”

“I think he noticed your lack of one.”

“They all notice.”

“I wear one too,” he reminded her.

“Why?”

“Habit.  Should I take it off?”

She shrugged.  “Why bother?  You’ve already picked up a girl.”  She added a grin.  “Maybe it’ll keep the rest of them away.”

 

* * *

 

“Was that the Pennsylvania line?” asked Louise on a long, sweeping curve.

“Yeah,” said Bill.  “I70 takes a jog up towards Pittsburgh.  We could save a few miles by getting off the interstate, but who cares?”

“How far do you think we’ve come?”

He glanced at the car clock.  “In an hour and a half?  About a hundred miles.”

She stretched and smiled contentedly.  “It’s nice riding with you, Bill.  If I was on the bus I’d just have to stare out the window and worry, but your stories about married life are super.”

He chuckled.  “Any lasting condition is bound to get funny once in a while.  They even tell jokes about prison life.”

Her smile vanished.  “Don’t remind me.”

“Now, Louise, you’re not a jailbird!”

“Not yet,” she said, compressing her lips.  “Didn’t you say I70 goes straight through to St. Louis?  I can help if you want to drive all night.”

“You’re kidding, I hope.”  He threw her an arch glance.  “What’s the matter?  Don’t you relish spending the night in a motel with a man old enough to be your father?”

Her lip stretched in a slow grin.  “Now, Bill, that’s not how to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Ask me that question.  You shouldn’t remind me of our age difference.”

“30 years, I expect.”

“To the year,” she admitted, snapping her fingers, “and it doesn’t matter that much.  Where do you plan to stop?”

“I have a reservation at a place in Washington City, and it’s too late to cancel.  At this rate we’ll get there in a couple more hours.  We’ll check in and go to supper, if that’s all right with you.”

“Two hours till supper?  Good thing I bought an extra pack of nabs.”  She extended the open package.  “Want one?”

“No, thanks.  My throat’s dry.  We’ll fix that too.”

“Do you drink, Bill?”

“I like one or two in the evening.”

“So do I.”

He glanced at her again.  “It’s a single.”

“You mean the room?”

“With a double bed.”

She grinned in return.  “Sounds comfy.”

They rode, companionably silent, in the light traffic before rush hour.  When the crackle of her chewing had ceased, he mused, “I’ve been thinking over what you said earlier.  I guess most females love males, some of them anyway, else the human race wouldn’t be so numerous, but I don’t recall ever hearing a woman declare she flat loves men.  Would you mind explaining that to me?”

“What’s to explain?  Don’t you generally like women?”

“Well, yes.  But …  To tell you the truth, Louise, I’ve had the impression that women tend to fear men.”

He glanced at her and saw twinkling eyes.  “You think so?  Did you scare your wives off, Bill?”

“No, I don’t think so.”  He chuckled ruefully.  “Actually the guys they ran away with were a hell of a lot riskier than I am.  My second wife even admitted it, even though she was the one who wouldn’t go downtown after dark.”  He sighed, then recovered his chuckle.  “But you love men, you say.  What do you mean by that?”

When she didn’t answer immediately, he glanced around to see her frowning in thought.  Finally she said, “The scariest thing about men is how fast they can go from fascination to indifference.  But that’s not something to fear exactly, not something to make you stay away from them.  I guess what I mean is, I love their company.  Men do things.”  She laughed teasingly.  “Women are the ones that things are done to.”

His eyebrows rose.  “By god, that’s true in more ways than one!”

“But not always.”  She sniffed.  “Some women think they’re doers too — do-gooders!  Generally I can’t stand them.”

“So you prefer the company of men?”

“Definitely.”

“I never heard a woman admit it.  How did you get that way, Louise?”

“I was lucky.  My mother died when I was ten.”

“My god!  Few people would count that as luck.”

“Because they don’t know any better.  Mothers seem to think their main job is making sure daughters don’t love men too much.”

“Well …”  He barked a laugh.  “You mean, keeping their fathers from loving them too much?”

“It’s the same thing.  My father was very kind to me, but he had already learned the lesson.  He was a workaholic.  Mother’s youngest brother, though, was different in every way.”

“Your uncle?”

“Joe.  He came to live with us when he was 18.  I was eleven and my brother, Gordy, was 13.  Joe couldn’t keep a job, finally joined the navy.  But for two years he spent most evenings with Gordy and me, whenever he wasn’t on the prowl.”

“For girls?”

“Whatever he could catch, as he put it.”

“And you lived your formative years in an otherwise all-male household?”

“Yes, I did.”  She sighed.  “I’ve been accused of not knowing how to be a woman.  That’s what men tell me when they’re feeling indifferent.”

“Or looking for a grievance.  So this uncle, your mother’s brother, taught you to love men?”

“He was lovable.  He shared everything with us, answered all our questions, played house and hospital with us.  That was fun!  He was a fun guy.  He’s the one who explained my period.  He showed me that growing up didn’t have to be scary.  I’ll always remember him for that.”

“He explained?  Surely they taught you all that in Health and Hygiene — even 20 years ago.”

“It came on me the year before I took that course: a classic case — soaked through my jeans in study hall, very embarrassing.  They let me go home early.  Of course I went straight to Joe.”

“Why ‘of course?’  Didn’t you have a neighbor’s wife or girlfriend to ask?”

“Even then I didn’t trust women.  But of course I went to Joe.  He was the one who had introduced me to sex.”

Bill asked incredulously, “He took your virginity at eleven?”

“No, no.  I wanted him to, but all he’d do was lick.  He told Gordy he’d break his dick off if he did me.  So I had to wait until Joe left.”

Bill was even more incredulous.  “With your own bro—  Excuse me, Louise.  I don’t mean to ask you that.”

She laughed.  “No, not with my own brother.  Joe had explained why Gordy shouldn’t do it.  But three boys lived down the street.  They were glad to help.”

“I imagine so!” said Bill with feeling.

She chuckled.  “Oh, it was mutual.  I helped them a lot too.”

His tone was fascinated.  “How did you avoid pregnancy?”

“Luck.  At 14 I had a couple of really bad periods — probably from defective embryos.  You know about that, don’t you?  I saw a doctor.  He put me on the pill.”

Bill laughed a little and shook his head.  “Teenage daughters!  Some friends of mine had terrible times with theirs.”

“Not my father!  I was his little angel until he worked himself to death.  Joe taught me what to look out for.”

“Playing ‘hospital,’ you say?”

“And farm.”

“Farm?  How did you play farm?”

“He was the cow.  Gordy and I were the calves.  Sometimes Gordy was the cow.”  She giggled.  “I said it wasn’t fair so Joe put cream in a finger cut from a latex glove and taped it to my belly.  Then everyone could be a cow and a calf at the same time.”

“Ah … yes.  God, what a picture!”

She laughed.  “I see you licking your lips.”

“How did Joe get started on sex?  Surely he didn’t bathe you!”

“Surely he did!  Three people in a tub is crowded — but lovely, slippery fun.  That’s where we played hummingbird.”

“I’m afraid to ask!  Is that how he got started?”

“No.  That may have been an accident.  He was careless about clothing.  He did the washing so encouraged us to wear almost nothing in the house.  Sometimes not so almost.  I’d seen his stuff dangling several times.  Gordy too.  I came home from school one afternoon, took off everything but my panties and went to find him.  He was lying naked on his bed and …  I stopped to stare.  I’ll never forget how startled I was.  His thing was monstrous!  He was stroking it with one hand.”

“He knew you were there.”

“Well, sure.  He looks up and grins and says, ‘Hi.’

“I ask what’s he doing.

“‘Come and watch.’

“So I do.  He moves his hand faster.  ‘Does it itch?’ I wonder out loud.

“He laughs.  ‘You don’t know what it’s for, do you?  Take off your panties and come sit on my leg.  I’ll show you.’

“Something told me this might be related to the good feelings I’d begun to notice when I washed myself.  So I hop naked up onto his thigh.  He tells me to watch in the dresser mirror.  He wets his finger, pries me open and begins very, very gently stroking my clit.

“‘Now do you see?’ he says.

“I’m sure my chin sags.  I never felt anything so nice in my life.  He laughs.  ‘You’re my little sweetheart.  Wet your finger and take over.  It’ll feel just as good.’

“He’s right about that too.  But I’m disappointed when he squirts white stuff all over me and I can’t do it back.”

Bill drew a ragged breath.  “Jesus, Louise!  That’s … that’s …”

“Awful?”

He chuckled ruefully.  “I was about to say, ‘Delightful.’  How long did it take to ring Gordy into your games?”

“Oh, Joe had already gone all the way with Gordy.”

“You mean … Joe was a, ah …”

“Fag?  I think only with Gordy.  You know, Bill, all this emphasis on being one way or the other — I think it’s a lot of crap.  Most of the people I know will swing if they get a good opportunity.  Personally I only get my kicks from male bodies, but a lot of women like females, and I don’t care if they do.  Whatever turns you on! …  If I had to classify him, I’d call Joe a swinger.”

“How about Gordy?  How did he turn out?”

“He’s married with three kids.  Does that mean anything?  He did well in school and went to college.  He admitted he and his roommate in the dorm used each other a lot.”

“‘Used?’”

“Anally.”  She chuckled.

“Joe taught him that, did he?”

“That’s what I meant by playing hummingbird in the bathtub.  An anus — Joe’s at least, and I’ve seen others since — can look like a rosebud.  The idea in playing hummingbird is to put your long beak into the rose.  Again it wasn’t fair, so Joe carved me a dildo.”

He shook his head.  “A hummingbird sucks out nectar.  Joe got it backwards.”

She laughed.  “I made that same point.  He said, ‘Well, of course it’s backwards — in back ends.’”

“Ugh!  Weren’t you … a bit small there?”

“I got bigger.  At first Joe’s thing was too fat and only Gordy could be my hummingbird.  But before long Joe was comfortable too.”

Again Bill’s tone betrayed his fascination.  “Do you really like that?”

She looked away, hiding her grin.  “Only in special circumstances.”

“Like what?  Being drunk?”

“No!  Sex is a waste of time when you’re drunk.”

“What special circumstances?”

“We don’t have them on this trip.”

“Ah —  Okay.”  He took a deep breath.  “The reason I’m interested is because … well … I had a somewhat similar experience.”

“An uninhibited uncle?”

“No.”  He shook his head but failed to smile.  “A neighbor girl and I satisfied our curiosity on each other, but my first ejaculation into another person …”  His voice trailed off.  He glared around at her.  “Do you know, I’ve never told this to anyone before!”

She nodded.  “That’s the advantage of strangers.”

He sniffed.  “Something tells me we won’t be strangers much longer.”

“A little bird, maybe?  Let it out, Bill, it might be good for you.  Who was your first?”

“A grown man.”  Bill studied the traffic oncoming in the far lanes.  “I must have been a pretty teenager, at least to a guy in his forties.  I was walking home from the movies when one gave me a ride — to a lot behind an abandoned factory.”

“What happened?  Tell it all.”

“Cars then didn’t have bucket seats.  The front was just a padded bench.  He only had to bend over my leg.  I shot his mouth full and couldn’t believe it when he straightened up: he didn’t leave a drop anywhere.  He said, ‘Zip up your fly,’ and drove me within a couple blocks of home, talking like an uncle about high school girls at the prom.”

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“Ah …  It felt good at the time, of course.”  He shook his head.  “But it’s not something to be proud of.”

“So you regret it?”

He heaved a sigh.  “Yes.”

“Did you ever take the other guy’s part, Bill?”

“No!”

She laughed softly.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you.  But I think that’s what you regret.”

 

* * *

 

In the motel parking lot Bill smiled when he saw his trip odometer: 250 miles in four hours, despite a rest stop and the Pennsylvania speed limit of 65 MPH.  With Louise’s contralto in his ears his foot must have been a bit heavier than usual.

He popped the trunk and withdrew his overnight bag.  She stood beside him, holding her flight bag, eyeing the large suitcase that was his only other piece of luggage.

“Looks like you don’t plan to stay in St. Louis,” she noted.

“It’s just a little business trip,” he explained, closing the trunk.

She clasped his arm, looking up from under lowered eyelids.  “Maybe I can help keep you busy.”

“This trip is already a lot more fun than I ever expected.”

“I’ll bet you say that to all your female companions.”

“Yeah.  All one.”

“Uh, Bill, do you mind if I use the john first?”

When he unlocked the room entrance, she dashed past him, bag and all, and disappeared into the bathroom.  He found the remote and turned on the TV.  A breathless newscaster was reporting the solution of a murder mystery in California.  He watched for awhile, shrugged and turned it off just before Louise came out of the bathroom, naked from the waist up, her bag dangling from one hand with her jogger’s blouse and brassiere draped around its handle.  His eyes riveted on her breasts, full and round, sagging only slightly, their vitality outlined by a faint tracery of blue veins.  The small, crinkled nipples jiggled as she moved.

“I heard the TV,” she noted.  “What’s the news?”

He took a breath.  “That motels have started furnishing topless bed warmers.”

She laughed and twitched her chest stirringly back and forth while his eyes popped.  Setting her bag on the rack, she pointed to the open bathroom.  “Your turn.  Go ahead.”

To his surprise she pushed in behind him before he could close the door.  She went to the mirrored sink, hands in her hair.  He shrugged, pulled out and let fly gratefully into the commode.

She sidled close to him and remarked, “Men have it too easy.”

“How so?”

“Not having to take their pants down ten times a day makes them hard to take down.”

“Ah … does that make sense?  Oh, you want me to take mine down?”

“If you want a blowjob.”

“You …”  He looked wide-eyed around at her smile.  “You don’t mean right now!”

She chuckled.  “Finish that first.  I hate to strangle on piss.”

“As if you ever did!”

She waited, still smiling.  When he shook off the last drops, her hands went to his belt buckle.  His slacks, weighted with the contents of his pockets, fell to his ankles.  She snatched down his briefs and turned his hips toward her as she sank to her knees.

“Louise, don’t you want me to wash —  No, I guess not.”

Her hot mouth had already enclosed the half-erect organ.

His second wife had done this eleven times, once on each of his birthdays during their marriage.  She had always insisted on pitch darkness, dashed to the bathroom afterwards and demanded queenly deference for weeks.  He was tempted to recite these facts to Louise, but her wet mouth stroking almost the entire shaft, plus the novel sight of a head bobbing below his shirttails and the sound of enthusiastic slurps, became unbearably stimulating.  He could only manage a single grunt as his first spurt struck the back of her throat.  The intensity of feeling dimmed his vision.  Inadvertently his hands closed on her head and his rigid body pumped out months of abstinence.

She held equally still.  Only her tongue moved, laving his swollen knob.  With a last slurp that elicited another grunt she pulled away and spat into the toilet before rising to her feet.  Her eyes twinkled.

“Well, Bill, what do you think?”

“I, I …  We’ve never even kissed!”

“Lips on cock don’t count?”

“Jesus, Louise!”

She laughed.  “The phrase is, ‘Jeez, Lou-eeze!’  If you want lips on lips …”

She turned up her face and puckered, closing her eyes.  He could not recall ever kissing lips fresh from capturing his semen, but she was certain either to be hurt or contemptuous if he flinched.  In fact he felt genuine gratitude for her service.  He swept her into his arms and bussed her solidly, tongue in play.  As most men, he had tasted his own effluent in his youth and was not surprised to find her mouth unpolluted.

When they parted, she said with a grin, “Besides, you should’ve complained before hand if you didn’t think it was proper.”

“You didn’t give me the chance.”

“Exactly!”  She laughed at his expression.  “I wanted to get us off on the right foot, or whatever, before you could think of any objection.”

“Objection, ha!”

She smiled lazily.  “I thought about doing it in the car but that can cause a wreck.”

“Oh god, it would have!”

“Pull up your pants and let’s go find supper.  I’ll even buy.”

“Ah, uh, don’t you want some satisfaction for yourself?”

“After supper, Bill.”  She went out to the bedroom and called back over her shoulder as she fastened her brassiere, “I want you to think about that while we eat.”

A strip mall was just down the road.  Over the meal he told her about the electroplating business he had recently sold and his plans to continue with small specialty jobs on the side.  She listened intently, drawing out technical details with perceptive questions.

“I’m impressed,” he admitted.  “In addition to being more open and forthright about sex than anybody I ever met, you have beauty and brains.”

She laughed, placing her hand warmly over his.  “Thank you, Bill.  I won’t ask which of those three is most important to you.”

“Good.  Because to be frank, I don’t know.”

They laughed together.

“What about you?” he asked.  “You were drawing unemployment from what kind of job?”

“Oh, Bill!  If I tell you, I’ll lose your good opinion for sure.”

He shook his head slowly.  “I doubt it, Louise.  Any woman who gives head like you do can’t be very bad.”

“Oh, yeah?  How far does that go?  What if she gets along by conning lonely old men who’ve just sold their businesses?”

He blinked at her twinkling eyes.  “Jesus —  I mean, jeez, Louise!”

“What if that’s what she does?”

He shrugged.  “I expect most of them would be happy to meet such a con artist.”

She laughed.  “That’s the spirit, Bill!”

“Well, are you one?”

Her laugh strengthened.  “I said I’d pay for the meal.”

After they ate she tugged him by the arm into an adjacent discount store, where she bought casual clothing off the rack, plus underwear, a pair of cheap sneakers and a cosmetics kit, paying cash as she had in the restaurant.

“Changing your style?” he asked, carrying the largest package to the car.

“My style?”

“What else?  That flight bag is heavy enough to be full of clothes.”  He chuckled.  “Excuse me, Louise.  I know better than to question a woman’s purchases for herself.”

She smirked at him.  “There’s a lot to be said for well-trained men.”

Having returned to the motel room, she immediately set about removing the tags and paste-ons from her new garments.  Bill offered to help.

“Did you ever do this for women’s clothes?” she asked.

“No, can’t say I have.”

“Then thanks, but no thanks.  You don’t know where to look and you’re sure to leave a pin or two for me to find the hard way.”

She hung the now tagless outer garments in the wardrobe and immediately stripped herself naked.  “Let’s take a shower, Bill.”

“Uh, you mean, together?”

“It’ll be fun.”

He took a deep breath.  “Louise, I hate to put my ruin on display.”

Her eyes twinkled.  “You want us to run around in the dark, Bill?”

“Not you!  I’m sitting here panting.  God, you’re lovely!”

“Forthright, pretty and brainy, you said.”

“Oh, yes, all of that.”

“Then give me some credit.  I can stand the sight of an old man who likes me.  Take your clothes off and come on.  I want to feel skin on skin.”

She had her way in the shower and afterwards on the bed, where he began with face in her pubes and proceeded to a breathless missionary pose.  After one of her many climaxes, she came back to Earth long enough to say, “You’re getting red-faced.  Don’t kill yourself, sweetie.  Let me on top.”

Her vigor and enthusiasm maintained his sexual tension without triggering ejaculation, a unique achievement.  She seemed to revel in the resulting erectile stamina, enjoying repeated orgasmic cycles, typically beginning with deep wet kisses, heavy breasts compressed on his chest while her hips rolled violently back and forth, climaxing as she sat straight up, all of her weight driving the impalement, squeaking sounds issuing from a tight throat.  Fascinated, he assisted her until a general flush suffused her body, now radiating heat and dripping with sweat, and stimulated him over the edge at last.  She simply flopped atop him then, breathing in great gasps, murmuring, “Oh, Bill, oh, Bill.”

He awoke once, prompted by an old man’s full bladder, to find her still atop him, head partly on his shoulder and partly on the pillow.  Lovingly reluctant to displace her, he drifted back to sleep and woke again to light passing beneath the window drapes — and his cock in her mouth.  His bladder was full to bursting but rising sexual tension had apparently brought him awake.

When he began to snort and thrust his hips, she backed away and finished him disappointingly with her fist, catching the results in her other hand to be wiped on the bed sheet.

Her smile on him became a frown.  “Well?”

“Why did you stop sucking?”

“Say, ‘Thanks for the blowjob, Louise.’”

“Thanks for the almost blowjob, Louise.  Why did you?”

She grinned and shook her head.  “I woke up just now, still lying on you.  You didn’t get up to pee all night, did you?”

“I …  No.”

“That’s why.  It tastes awful when the guy really has to pee.”

She got off the bed and stretched, breasts bobbing.  “I can’t believe at your age you didn’t wake up all night.”

“I woke up.  I loved feeling your tits and belly on me.”

She grinned.  “The con’s working.”

“Except I’m not sure who’s conning who.”

 

* * *

 

They went to breakfast in the same little restaurant.  Bill bought them each a copy of the Pittsburgh Tribune, which they arrayed cattycornered on the booth table.  He was not surprised to see that she was a reader.

“Well, here’s your bank robbery,” he told her after they had placed their food orders.  “Looks like it made the national news.”

“Wh-what?”  She looked up wide-eyed.  “Where’d you see it?”

“On page four of the front section, under Mystery Holdup.”  He chuckled.  “They killed the robber but claim the money got away.”

She flipped through her paper quickly.  Apparently she had been reading the social section.  Her eyes fixed on the story and scanned rapidly.

“Old newspapers!” she exclaimed incredulously.  “He turned the money into old newspapers?”

“Apparently that’s all they found in his bag.”

“But they’re missing over ten grand.”  She looked up with a sly grin.  “You know, I wonder how often that happens.”

“Not often, else it wouldn’t make national news.”

“No, I mean a lot more money missing than anybody finds.  What a great opportunity it is for a teller or the bank manager to squirrel away a few extra packets and claim the thief took it!”

“Did you actually witness the holdup, Louise?”

“If so, I didn’t notice it.  And the man they shot was right behind me in the line at the teller’s window.”

“Masked?”

“He wasn’t wearing a mask when I saw him in line.  He may have slipped it on when he got to the teller.”

“You didn’t see it?”

“No.  I was on my way out.”

“It must’ve happened awfully quick for him to run past you.”

“Well, I stopped to put the cash and my ID back into my wallet.  The card wouldn’t go in and I dropped the money.  I guess he had plenty of time.  I had just left the bank when he passed me.”

“And somebody fired from inside?”

She took a deep breath.  “I don’t know who shot first.  All I remember is the guy turning around with his gun raised, the flash of it going off — it hurt my ears — then his mask flying up and his throat spraying blood.”

Bill tapped the paper.  “Apparently he got the guard, but the guard killed him anyway.  You were lucky to get away unscathed.”

She shivered.  “Tell me about it!”  Her eye returned to the paper.  “At least nobody saw me.”

“Your duty was to go back and report what you saw.”  He smiled into her sudden glare.  “But I’m damned glad you didn’t!”

She shook her head.  “I don’t want to get messed up with the law.”  She smiled.  “With Bill Simon is different.”

She had ordered eggs with sausage.  He watched her pick up one of the links delicately with finger and thumb.  Holding it to her lips, she grinned at him.  “I love to put round meat in my mouth.”  White teeth flashed as she bit off the near half of the link.

He winced with a shiver.

She bubbled over with laughter and declaimed despite a mouthful of eggs and sausage, “You’ll make even this meat choke me up!”

When he had swallowed his own mouthful, he reflected, “You’ve demonstrated you like man meat in your mouth, though thank heaven you haven’t bit it in half!”

She nodded, eyes twinkling.  “Some spice you get chewing, some merely from sucking.”

“What’s the attraction, Louise?  Surely it’s not the taste.”

“Partly it’s the same as the man’s reward when he licks a woman.  In a blowjob it’s good to have your guy’s pleasure completely under your control.”  She grinned.  “Under your tongue, so to speak.”

“‘Partly?’”

She shrugged.  “A cock feels nice in your mouth.  I think it’s about the most interesting thing you can put in there — that big, smooth knob and elastic skin and the way it pulses when it gets going.  It’s a fascinating toy for the tongue.”

“Good god!”

She smiled slowly.  “Does that idea appeal to you, Bill?”

Back in the motel, ready to hit the road, he was surprised to find the woman removing the new garments she had donned before breakfast.

“What’s wrong?  Don’t they fit?”

“Not as well as you do,” she answered roguishly, hands reaching for his belt buckle.  “According to the rules behind the door, we don’t have to vacate until eleven.  And you owe me.”

He had to accede to that logic, though doubting his ability to reprise such a strenuous bout as the previous evening.  He hesitated with one bare leg over her and suggested diffidently, “Maybe you ought to, ah, crank a little.”

“Crank!” she sniffed but grinned.  “Even you never had a car like that.  Besides, that’s not what you owe me.”

“Oh.  Yeah.”  He backed slightly and bent his face between her legs.  Soon her cool thighs closed on his ears, muffling her moans.  Pushing his head away, she raised to peer under his belly.  “The jump start’s working but needs another jolt.”  She caught his ears and pulled his face back into her sopping vulva.  In another minute she captured him again in her thighs and after a shorter effort again shoved him back.

She rose on an elbow.  Her hand caught him between the legs.  “One more jolt, maybe.  Let me show you a trick.”

She raised her heels, caught one in each hand and rolled onto her back, drawing her feet up, over and behind her head to cross the ankles, hooking one foot on the other.  Elbows pushed out atop inverted thighs and lowered hands spread the labia until the velvety interior folds glistened crimson.

She laughed at his pop-eyed expression.  “You know what they call this pose, Bill?”

“N-no, I don’t.  But I never saw anything so sexy in my whole life!”

She chuckled deep in her throat.  “It has a name: the Viennese Oyster.”

“Oyster?  Oh.  Oh, I see.  My god, yes!”

He fell upon her and buried his tongue in fragrance.  “See-food,” she explained, “with two ees.  You have to supply your own tartar sauce.”

She screamed when she pushed his head away this time.  He found the last “jolt” more than sufficient and simply substituted penis for tongue, penetrating her to his maximum.  Her heels came down and hooked on his shoulders.  “Lean forward,” she told him with a gasp.  “Let my legs take a lot of your weight.”

This novel arrangement left his hands free.  He alternated them between her breasts and hips.

Her eyes glared inches below his.  “Oh god, I love this,” she panted.  “You’re banging my womb.  Wet your thumb and put it in below.”

Her anus was hot and receptive.  He worked his thumb opposite the thrusts of his hips.  She resumed soft screams between gasps for breath.  His knees bore some of his weight, but most was on her legs and back.  For him it was even easier than last night with the woman on top — and much more stimulating.  The sexual thrill grew swiftly.

“Louise, I … I’m about to come.”

“Then … fuck me hard!” she ordered, panting like a runner, lips drawn back over her teeth.

Dimly he heard screams as he spurted into her.  He fell heavily onto his back and lay with chest heaving.  She rolled against him, head on his shoulder.  He freed that arm and slipped it around her back, patting her hip.  She threw a cool leg over his.  A lumpy nipple pressed into his chest.

She whispered in his ear, “I died and went to heaven.”

“Along with me,” he told her.  “My god, Louise, I thought only presidential assistants were that sexy!”

“Or other professionals,” she appended.

“Professionals?”

“Other whores.”

“Not you, my dear.”

“Why not?”

“By now you would have made a fortune.”

She chuckled, then took a deep breath.  “Your debt is all paid up.  Shall we head for St. Louis?”

“I like a nap after sex that good.  St. Louis can wait.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

 

* * *

 

“See that kid up at the end of the on-ramp?”

A large filling station stood beside the ramp that curved up to rejoin I70.  Bill had just topped off his tank, paid the bill and flopped back into the driver’s seat.  His eye followed Louise’s pointing finger.

“What about him?”

“How good are your eyes?  He’s hitchhiking, and that’s a pretty boy.”

“Well, we’ll get there in a moment and I’ll take a look.”

“Don’t drive fast.”

“Oh?  Does he look familiar to you, sweetie?”

“In a generic sort of way.  His hair is the color of Gordy’s.”

“Yeah?  From here it looks blond.”

“No.  That pale shade is called sandy in a boy — just like my brother’s.”

“Surely he’s too young to be your brother!”

“Huh!  These days Gordy’s a hundred pounds heavier than that kid.”

“Has a good wife, does he?”

“I guess.  If you keep eating like you just did, they’ll think you have one.”

“You do give me an appetite!”  Bill started the car and pulled to the intersection to wait for the traffic light.  He grinned.  “I think we scandalized that maid.”

Louise sniffed.  “She didn’t want to have to come back, that’s all.  Of course” — she giggled — “it was kind of late, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.  They were going to charge me another day because I didn’t check out until after twelve.”

“That’s in the rules.  How did you beat it?”

“I claimed I had reserved a room with two beds, that my daughter had to sleep with me — a blanket between us, of course! — and they ought to give me a discount.”

She laughed incredulously.  “You didn’t!”

He eased the car into the intersection.  “I thought of it, but you’re right: I didn’t have the balls.  I gave the clerk a twenty to split with the maid.”

“Think he will?”

Bill chuckled.  “Yes, I do.  She was standing in the office door.”

He gunned the car through the intersection and proceeded up the ramp.  “Okay, I see your kid.  What’s so special about him?”

“Well, he does remind me of Gordy a little, but I’m not attracted to kids.  What I see in him, Bill, is the chance for you to wipe off your remaining regret.”

“M-my what?”  The car, accelerating up the long ramp, slowed.

“Look at him.  He’s about 15, probably a runaway with that backpack.  He’s no threat: your muscles are twice as big.  Give him a ride, Bill.  I’ll help you with him.”

The man shook his head and muttered, “What amazes me is, I’m going to take you up on it.  Here lately I’m living on impulse!”

The lad was standing on the shoulder about halfway along the merge lane, where oncoming cars had room to stop.  Bill coasted past him and came to a halt.

“15 isn’t legal,” he groused, watching the boy dash toward them at a run.

She laughed.  “Maybe he’s older.  They all look so terribly young, but keep one thing in mind: he’s in trouble or he wouldn’t be thumbing.”

“I don’t need trouble!”

“Think of him as an opportunity, Bill.”

The boy jerked open the right rear door and fell into the seat, stifling further argument.  For the next several seconds the necessities of merging into high-speed traffic occupied most of Bill’s attention.  He heard Louise ask, “Where are you headed?”

Between gasps the boy answered, “California.”

“Well, you’ve got the direction right,” she retorted.  “We can take you as far as St. Louis.  Where are you from?”

“Pittsburgh.”

“Really!”

Louise waited until the car was up to speed with cruise control set before asking, “Bill, didn’t you say Pittsburgh was close by?”

“20 or 30 miles.  You’re just getting started, eh, kid?”

“Are we your second ride?” asked Louise.

“The third,” muttered the lad.

“Short rides!  Have you had lunch?”

“I had a sandwich.”

The kid was willing to return her gaze.  His face was visible to Bill in the rearview mirror.  She sat twisted around in her seat, peering past the headrest.  “I’ll bet you’re thirsty.”

“Sure am!”

“Well, it so happens we have something you need besides transportation.”  She fished in the plastic bag of goodies bought while Bill filled up with gasoline, retrieved a soda can and passed it over the seatback.

The boy popped the top and nearly emptied it in a few gulps.

“You were thirsty!” breathed the woman.

He exhaled noisily, burped, blushed and covered his mouth.  “Excuse me.  I mean, thanks a lot.”

She chuckled.  “You’re welcome.  What’s your name?”

“Roger.”

“Roger from Pittsburgh.  I’m Louise and Bill is driving.”

He glanced at Bill but remained silent.

“Say, ‘Pleased to meet you,’” she directed.

The lad’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re not my mamma.”

She cocked an eyebrow.  “Do you want to make me glad of that?”

He frowned, obviously considering her taunt.  His expression cleared.  “Okay.  Pleased to meet you.”

She smiled.  “That’s better.”

Her smile seemed to relax him.  He sagged back into the seat and said, “God, I’m tired of standing out there.”  His voice was a baritone.

“Rides hard to get?” she asked sympathetically.

“On I70.  I guess nobody wants to slow down.”

Bill warned, “You might have a lot of standing between here and California.”

“I don’t want to think about that.”

The two adults chuckled.  Louise grinned at him.  “If you stay cool you won’t have to stand before St. Louis, anyway.”

“Where’s that?”

“On the Mississippi,” Bill answered.  “It’s hard to believe you never heard of St. Louis.”

“I didn’t say I never heard of it,” the lad muttered.

Louise asked, “How old are you, Roger?”

He hesitated.  At last he said, “20.”

She laughed.  “Come on, Roger.  What’s your age?”

He blushed again and admitted in a low voice, “16.”

“Really?  Not that it makes much difference, but sure you’re not 15?  When were you born?”

Without hesitating he named a date slightly more than 16 years previous.

Louise nodded.  “Good.  In most places 16 is the age of consent.”

“That’s what the geek said.”

“The geek?”

“He was the second one to give me a ride.”

Bill glanced at Louise, who winked at him.  She smiled benignly at the lad.  “Did you tell him you were 20?”

“I …  No.  I didn’t say how old I was.  He just …”  Roger smiled back at her.  “He just said he hoped I was 16 because that was the age of consent.”

“I see.  How about your first ride?  Was that another geek?”

“No.  He was older.  He just stopped without saying much.”

“Hmm.  Surprised you, did he?”

“A little … at first.”

“Two in one morning!”  She straightened in her seat and said quietly to Bill, “There you go.”

“What’s the world coming to?” asked the man, mouth twisting.

She retorted, “Where it always was — for pretty boys and girls.  Roger, scoot over behind Bill, will you, so I can lay this seat back?  I’m going to take a nap.”

 

* * *

 

Bill had been watching Roger in the mirror and was displeased when the boy moved out of sight.  He appeared to be 14 or 15, although he could have been old as his birthday claimed.  The face was fresh and remarkably pretty, though not girlish.  Bill had noticed similar youngsters, especially in winter when bundled up in androgynous parkas.  But Roger aroused his interest as no previous boy.  Perhaps it was because of Louise’s discovery that he had only this morning twice submitted to blowjobs.  Despite a lifetime of rigorous heterosexuality, Bill was intrigued.

Sometime later at a rest stop Bill had an opportunity to assess the boy more fully, discovering him to be a couple inches the shorter.  The top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing flashes of smooth flesh that riveted Bill’s attention.  The boy submitted to the ogle and gazed back boldly.

Louise also noticed.  “Would you like to take him for a walk in the woods, Bill?”

He scowled at her, although he could not deny to himself the erotic appeal of such a stroll.

Their late start had caused him to cancel a reservation in Indianapolis.  After checking into a Dayton motel, they had a quick supper at a fast-food place.  This time his eyes fixed on the boy’s hairless, shapely forearms.  Louise’s hand, roaming under the table, found Bill’s penis partly erect.

“You have a great opportunity to experience something new, Bill,” she said as they stood outside the motel room.  The boy had gone ahead to take a shower.  “You know he’ll let you go down on him.”

“I’m not a faggot!” Bill protested.

“Oh, I know that.  You demonstrated your masculinity last night.  But loosen up.  Let yourself go and try out a boy for once in your life.  I’m going over to the mall for a couple of hours.  Think about it.”

“You don’t want him?”

“Oh, he’s a man — or almost.  It’s not that I don’t want him.  But I talked you into stopping for him as a toy for you.”

He watched her walk off with a carefree gait, hips swinging in the slacks bought last night.  Although he had no intention of touching the pretty lad, his heart raced as he opened the door and went into the room.

 

* * *

 

Bill inhaled suddenly and turned off the TV when Roger emerged too soon from the bathroom clad only in underpants, body moist from the shower.  Facing away, the boy fussed at the vanity counter, combing his hair, turning his head side-to-side and grimacing at the reflection.  Bill smiled, thinking how girlish he looked in that pose.  But the smile faded to absorption.

Bill was amazed at his fascination with another male, however young, although it was not masculine beauty that drew his attention to the long, shapely legs that many women would die to possess.  At that moment, from behind, the boy seemed neither male nor female.

The man stiffened when he realized that Roger was watching him in the mirror.  “Will I be queer when I’m your age?” asked the lad, laying the comb aside.  He continued to study Bill’s reflected image.

“Perhaps even sooner.  I heard what you said to Louise about those two guys who picked you up.  Did you enjoy it?”

“Did I … what?”

“Enjoy what they did to you.”

“I didn’t say they did anything!”

“You said enough.  Did you enjoy it?”

Tenseness faded slowly from the young face.  “I like coming off.”

“Don’t we all!”

“Yeah.  Are most older men queer?”

“Oh, certainly not!”  Bill had to grin.

Roger bored in.  “But you are, aren’t you?”

“No.  Not like them.”

“Then what’re you staring at me for?”

“I’m admiring your youth.  You’re beautiful.  Do you mind?”

The boy turned around.  “Beautiful!  That’s what you call a girl.”

The man nodded.  “Or a sunset.  You should be flattered.”

“Okay.”  The youth shrugged, then grinned.  “Maybe I am.  I guess it doesn’t hurt if you look.”  He seemed to pose for a moment, asking thoughtfully, “Will Louise be gone long?”

“A couple of hours, she said.”

Bill examined the boy without embarrassment, deciding that from the front he could never be mistaken for a female, despite the pretty face and longish sandy hair.  The broad, sleek chest precluded that, to say nothing of the impressive bulge in the underpants.  Undoubtedly the boy would submit passively to a blowjob, but Bill found no excitement in that.  Or did he?  He well recalled Louise’s analysis yesterday of his regrets.  He had almost accepted it at the time, before her sexual intensity drove away thoughts of any other lover.  But sucking off this boy!  However interesting the act or the cock in his mouth, in his sixties he would feel like a creepy old fool going down on a 16-year-old, lovely or not.

He turned to the dresser to fix himself a drink, but the subject was almost palpable in the air between them.

“What about those guys this morning?” he asked.  “They did blow you, didn’t they!”

“Yeah.”

“Weren’t you about half-way expecting that?”

“The second one, maybe.”

“How’d they come on to you?  You weren’t naked like you nearly are now.”

Roger climbed onto one of the double beds and drew up a knee, carelessly exposing the well-filled crotch of his briefs.  “The first one didn’t say anything.  He felt my leg while keeping his eyes on the road.  It was almost scary.”

“He just reached right over the console, did he?”

“Yeah.  I jumped but he cupped me through my pants and I knew what he wanted.”

“You’d heard about such things, of course.”

“Sure.”

“Tried it with a friend maybe?”

“That much, yeah.”

Bill nodded.  “So you didn’t push his hand away.”

“Naw.”  The lad grinned.

“You thought he was just going to feel you up a little?”

The boy’s grin faded.  He looked into the distance.  “Actually, you know …  I didn’t think anything.  I just … waited.”

“What did he do.”

“Kinda laughed, like he knew I wouldn’t mind.  He pulled over on the road shoulder.”

“Just on the shoulder?  Did he turn on his flashers?”

“His flashers?  No.  But it was early and didn’t take long.”

“What did he do?”

“Took my dick out.”

“You had a hard-on, didn’t you?”

“It was started.”

“Did he jack on it?”

“He got up in his seat on one knee and leaned way over the console.  It was like, wow!”

“So you let him do it?”

“I never had a blowjob before.  He stopped after a couple of sucks and goes, ‘This’d work better in the woods, but I ain’t got time for that.’  He finished me real quick.”

“What did he say then?”

“Nothing.  He swallowed the stuff and pulled back onto the road.  At the next exit he stopped the car and goes, ‘I’m turning off here,’ so I got out.  I don’t think he even looked at me again.”

“Your first ride out of Pittsburgh, eh?  What was he like?”

“Oh, an ordinary guy, kind of old.  I don’t know: thirtyish, I guess.  Had a couple briefcases behind the front seat.”

“Sounds like a salesman.”  Bill had drawn closer.  Now he sat down on the bed near the boy.  “Kind of old, eh?”  He laughed sourly.  “What about the second guy?”

“I had to wait a long time.  He was a geek, looked kind of faggy.  But two cops already passed and give me the eye.  The funny thing was, after we get going, he’s like, ‘Rough morning, eh, kid?”  I ask what he means.  ‘Take a look at your fly.’”  The lad chuckled.  “I forgot to zip up after the first one.  Come had dried all shiny on my pants.”

Bill blinked and smiled in sympathy.  “Damn!  I can imagine how you felt.”

“The geek laughs.  ‘Not hard to guess what you’ve been doing.  Got any juice left?’”  When I don’t answer, he guesses I’ve got quarts at my age.  We drive along while I rub the stuff off my clothes.  He leaves the interstate.  The sign said ‘Washington City.’  We drive into a cemetery.  He comes around to my side and kneels with the door open.  He doesn’t say anything, just takes it out and starts sucking.  When he’s done he coughs and spits the stuff on the ground and gives me twenty dollars, but takes off.  I have to walk back up to the interstate.”

“He was a cheapskate, Roger.  You’re worth more than that.”

“It was an old Chevy.  I don’t think he had much money.”

Bill ran his hand along the fuzzy calf.  “I’ve never sucked cock,” he said, then cleared his throat.  “But you’re a powerful temptation.”

Roger studied him intently.  “Why is that?”

“Well, here you are.”  His hand went past the knee to rest on a soft inner thigh.

The boy’s voice was low.  “Is it because you know I’ll let you do it?”

“That’s a big part of it.”

“What’s the rest?”

Bill shrugged.  “New experiences are rare at my age, Roge.”  He drew a shaky breath.  “But it doesn’t seem enough.  Maybe I want …  Maybe we could become good friends … or even more.”

Roger squinted at him.  “What are you talking about?”

“Let me see you.”

Roger lowered his knee for the man to pull off the underpants.  Bill stared at the fully erect penis, slim and straight with an exposed, crimson knob.  It was perhaps longer than his own, at least from this angle, though not as thick.  The flat abdomen and enticing thighs were smooth, hairless flesh.  The pubic bush was sandy, almost white.

Bill felt poised on a knife-edge.  He had last handled other male equipment as a pubescent lad.  Doing it now, even if he went no further, would constitute a statement that he was reluctant to make.  And yet …  For the first time he realized that a penis could have a certain beauty of its own.  His hand crept further up the thigh.

Roger’s hips turned slightly but deliberately.  The knob struck Bill’s wrist.

“Maybe I’ll just jack you off,” he said, taking hold of the stiff member.  Indeed the young organ was thinner.  The skin slid easily back and forth.  But aside from the angle and a sense of missing stimulation, this was nothing new.

Eyes half closed, Roger lay passively for a while before suggesting, “If you’re going to do part of it …”

The man took a deep breath and ordered, “Spread your legs out.”  Kicking off his shoes, he clambered onto the bed and knelt before the fully nude and staring boy, who licked his lips in anticipation.

Bill paused with the stiff member in hand inches from his mouth and chuckled.  “You’re coming to really like this, I think.”  The youthful hips thrust forward in agreement.

With a delicious sense of depravity Bill accepted the rubbery thing — and soon found himself agreeing with Louise’s assertion that a penis is one of the most interesting things one might put into his mouth.

— So long as it didn’t penetrate too far!  As the crisis approached Roger rocked his hips upward.  Bill resisted despite rising gorge, until semen flooded his throat.  That was too much.  He snatched himself back and ducked to the side, while retaining presence of mind to direct Roger’s remaining spurts onto the naked chest and belly.  Despite an instinct to spit on the carpet, Bill managed to swallow instead.

“God!” he exclaimed.  He looked up, found the lad grinning and chuckled ruefully.  “In case you didn’t guess, I never did that before.”

“Bad stuff, huh?”

“No, not bad at all, not really.  I should’ve known you’d try to shove it down my throat.”

“Gagged you?”

“A little.”

“I couldn’t help shoving.  I think that’s what happened to the geek too.  Hey!  I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why the first guy kept his fist around it.  He knew I was going to shove.”

“Oh yeah?  Have you ever done it?”

“Done what?”

“Sucked a cock.”

“No way!”

“Well, you can try putting your fist around it, because that’s what I want, whether you enjoy it or not.  You can keep your eyes closed.”

“I don’t want to!”

“I know that.  But it’ll be worth a lot more to you than twenty dollars.  I’ll take care of you until you get straightened out.”

Roger pondered the situation.  “Can we do it in the dark?” he finally asked.

“Sure, kid.  First let me take a quick shower.  Like I said, we could become friends.”

 

* * *

 

Bill returned to the dark room after a couple of minutes, remembering to turn off the bathroom light.  He groped his way onto the bed to find the naked boy lying on his stomach.  He could imagine the smooth body to be that of a tall young girl, although he did not indulge in that fantasy, because he was excited by the true situation.  He fondled narrow buttocks and poked a finger into an anus that tightened with the touch.

“What’re you doing?” Roger demanded, although he did not move away.

“If you really don’t want to suck, we can do it this way.”

“It’ll hurt!”

“I’ll be gentle.  Trust me.  Just a moment.”

Bill quickly rose from the bed to retrieve Louise’s bottle of hand lotion from the vanity counter, then returned to the boy.  After sliming his cock, he spread some of the lubricant on the awaiting hole, working in a finger, then two.

“I don’t like it!” Roger protested though spreading his legs wider.

“Just relax.  You’ll feel more surprise than hurt.”

Bill rolled between the smooth legs and positioned himself.  He pushed forward, compressing the knob.  Roger gasped.

“Relax it.  Push out.”

Suddenly his knob popped through the ring.  Bill plumbed the boy fully, relishing the feel of youthful flesh against his.  He lowered his body into full contact.  Breathing the shampoo scent of the boy’s hair he began to pump in long, slow strokes, urging himself to come quickly in case the lad, reflecting on this act’s ultimate contrariness, should react badly.  The telltale prickle soon arrived, and he groaned in exquisite release.

“Was that so bad?” he asked after dismounting, slipping an arm under the boy’s cheek.

Roger didn’t answer until after turning onto his back.  “It felt good when you pulled out,” he noted in a low voice.

“I’ve never done that before either.  But taking a shit feels good sometimes.  I’d suppose this can too.”

He reached across and found the youthful member erect.  He laughed slightly.  “Only when I pulled out, huh?”

The boy laughed a bit shamefully.  “I pretended I was a girl.  They can do it that way too.”

“Oh yes.”

“I bet it’s fun to be a girl.”

Bill chuckled and pulled their heads together.  The youngster accepted a brief kiss on the lips

“I think we’ll become real buddies, Roger.  Now let’s go take a shower together.”

 

* * *

 

They showered in the dark, because Bill was self-conscious of his old, shabby body.  As they embraced under the spray he felt the boy’s surprising strength, something he did not expect from such lithe arms.  They kissed with tongues engaged, after which his slightly shorter partner leaned against him like a girl.

He found the submissiveness most promising.  If he decided to suck the boy again, there would be no question of continuing dominance, no suggestion that he was just another queer offering a quick blowjob.  Did butt-fucking establish rank?  In that case, should he invite the boy’s attention to his own anus?  He decided to take advantage of this unique opportunity for the complete homosexual experience.  He had never fantasized about such a relationship, but the youth’s beauty and willingness shattered his previous inhibitions.

“Wash my cock,” he said, “unless you want to taste your own shit.”

“Do I have to?” the boy whined.

“Have to what?”

“Suck your cock?”

“Sure you do.  You might even enjoy it.  And just to show that I’m a reasonable guy, I’ll suck yours again.”

After a moment he felt the boy’s soapy hands on his member, cleaning it assiduously, bringing it hard once more.  In the dark shower, spray suddenly splashed his chest.  Apparently the lad had dropped to his knees.  He felt a tongue on his cock head, then a mouth around it.

He had enjoyed many blowjobs, two in the last 24 hours, but this one, however clumsy, was the most erotic of them all, because of the youth, beauty and sex of his lover — and not least for a quirky element of soul-satisfying depravity.  Bill shook his head, amazed that he had never noticed such a passion in himself for defying convention.

“I can’t come again so soon,” he said, stroking the boy’s wet hair.  “This time is just practice for you.” 

Roger seemed to take those words as a challenge, because he applied himself diligently.  Bill found himself responding in an unexpected way.  He wanted the boy again himself.

“Stand up,” he said, pulling gently on the head working at his groin.  “It’s your turn now.”

On his knees he found the youngster’s penis re-erected.  It fitted his mouth well while his hands roamed sleek thighs and narrow butt cheeks.  After a couple of minutes with two fingers working the retightened anus, Roger gasped, grabbed the man’s head and began to spew.  Bill loosened his lips and took it all, startled that so much was available half an hour after the last ejaculation.  He pumped the final drops onto his tongue, swirled the stuff in his mouth, then spat it out, saving a bit to swallow.  He struggled to his feet.

“That should keep you until Louise gets back.”

Roger leaned into his arms.  “What happens then?”

“We’ll take turns fucking her.”

“Really?  She won’t mind?”

“I have no doubt about it.  She’s a very hot number, my lad.  We went at it hammer and tongs last night, and she’s the one who got me to pick you up.  I would have driven by otherwise.”

After drying off, they returned to the bed and kissed further, the boy eagerly now.  “Can I turn on a light?”

“Wouldn’t you rather pretend I was a girl?”

“Huh!  I can feel your whiskers.”

If he and the lad would become close, Bill knew that his decrepitude could hardly remain concealed.  With a sigh he gave permission.

But the light revealed the object of Roger’s interest.  He immediately scooted around between the elderly legs and popped the man’s flaccid organ into his mouth.

Bill chuckled.  “Are you just curious or have you been thinking it can get scary on the road?”

Instead of answering, the youthful face bobbed resolutely, moist hair bouncing coolly on the man’s thighs.  After a long interval the young head looked up.  “I like it to get hard in my mouth.  Your dick is nice.”

“Thanks, pal.”

Impulsively the boy scooted up alongside the man and caught both organs in the same hand.  “Look!  They’re the same length.”

Bill raised his head to stare through gray curling chest hair.  “I think yours is a touch longer.”  He added dryly, “It can sure reach the bottom of my throat.”

The lad giggled, a girlish sound despite the masculine octave.  “Well, sure!  But yours is fatter.  I really like how it feels.”

“Even up your ass?”

“Umm.  Maybe we ought to try that again.”

Pleased, Bill decided the lad was too young — after a road experience of less than a full day — to value the security that the man represented.  Perhaps he would learn.  The man hugged the slim body to his own.

“Have you fucked a girl before, Roger?”

“Yeah, just yesterday.  Her old man asked her why she was crying and she told him!  He sicced the cops on me.”

“How old was she?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve!  Did she even have tits?”

“Small ones.  It wasn’t much fun.  She cried a lot and pushed me off.”

“You didn’t come?”

“Not inside her.  I whacked off after she left.”

“Hah!  You took her cherry, but you’re still almost a virgin, at least with girls.”

“The cops are looking for me, Bill.  That’s why I ran away.”

“I’ll take care of you, kid.  Trust me.”

Bill ran his hand across the boy’s hairless chest, kissed a fresh cheek and marveled at his good fortune.  He decided to dump Louise at the first opportunity and regain his youth with this exquisite boy.  Who needed St. Louis?  What called him there was only an old house inherited from an uncle.  For the next year or so he intended to indulge himself in homosexual adventure, until Roger became more masculine and sexually unattractive.

He kissed the boy’s lips soundly.  “We’ll get other guys to play with, kid, pretty ones even younger than you.”

Roger snuggled in his embrace.  “That’s okay, I guess,” he said, “but I really prefer girls.”

“Yeah.  We’ll get those too.  I’ll show you how to catch them.  We’re going to have a ball.”

 

* * *

 

With one arm around a shopping bag Louise opened the motel door to find them engaged in a slurping sixty-nine, Roger on top.

“Well, excuse me!” she cried, leering.  “I hope you haven’t used him up, Bill.”

The boy quickly rolled off, pulled a pillow to his groin and gazed at her sheepishly, blushing.  Bill rose on an elbow.  “The kid’s inexhaustible,” he announced.  “We’re just passing the time, waiting for you.”

She placed the package on a chair and began to unbutton her blouse.  “Yes, but not too impatiently, I see.”

With jaw hanging Roger watched the woman proceed to undress.  She grinned at Bill.  “I took a wrong turn at the try-on booth and caught a stockroom boy on his knees eating out the sales clerk.”

“You’re kidding!  What happened?”

“She says, cool as a cucumber, ‘Can I help you?’

“I say I didn’t know I was in the cafeteria and do they serve anything besides tongue.”

Roger laughed incredulously.

“Louise …” Bill began.

“Oh, I wasn’t hungry.  Not then.”  Having removed her panties, she grinned at the lad and took the pillow from his hand.  “You’ve never seen a naked woman before?”

“He ripped the cherry of a twelve year old yesterday,” Bill offered, “but she ran away before he could finish.”

Louise sat down beside the trembling boy and placed a hand high up on his thigh.  “Did you lick on her, Roge?  You should always to that first, especially with a virgin girl.”

The boy, his eyes on the woman’s large breasts, shook his head slightly.  She leaned down to sniff his erect penis.

“It doesn’t smell shitty,” she said, looking at Bill.  “Did I get back too soon?”

The man bristled.  “We didn’t do that!”

“He did it to me,” the boy countered, venturing a hand to a soft breast.

“Squeeze it harder,” she advised.  “What did you think of that old cock up your ass, Roge?”

“It, uh, it was okay.”

“Did it feel like a turd going backwards?”

“He said it felt good coming out,” Bill interjected.  “How much have you had to drink, Louise?”

“Just a couple.  Guy in the bar tried to hit on me.”  She touched her nose to the boy’s.  “Has that old man been selfish?  Didn’t you get to come?”

“He sucked me off twice,” the lad answered smugly.

“Well, good for him,” she said, swinging a leg over to straddle the boy.  “Then you’ll be able to last.”   She squirmed onto his penis.

He stared up at her with an expression of awesome delight on his pretty face.  She smiled back.  “Feel’s good, huh?”  Sliding back and forth slowly, she began to diddle herself.

“What happened in the bar?” Bill demanded.

“Two guys bought me drinks.  You ever notice that?  When you know you’re gonna get laid in a little while, all the other guys are suddenly hot to trot.”  Her voice softened.  “Bill, you’ll find a jar of Vaseline in the bag.”

He rose from the undulating bed reluctantly.  “What did you say to the guys in the bar?”

“That they’re sweet and good looking — the kind of stuff guys know anyway — and that I already got a date, but if they’re gonna be around tomorrow night …”  She grinned lazily over her shoulder.  “I remembered I had a double-date, if you’ll come on with that Vaseline.”

“Yeah!” the man exclaimed, fumbling in the bag.

She leaned down, tongue probing Roger’s lips while the hand still worked diligently at her groin.  Her movement on the penis halted when she felt a finger slicking her anus.  “I like it hard and fast, Bill,” she announced in a quavering voice.  “Do you need any help?”

Bill greased his own penis while studying Roger’s, halfway into the woman.  He positioned himself behind the upraised buttocks and delivered his answer wordlessly, jamming himself through the expectant pucker.

“Oh, god!” Louise cried at the bludgeoning thrust, in pain but also in excitement.  Bill began to slam her in long strokes, but the boy just lay there.  “Fuck me, Roge!  Fuck me!” she demanded, and he too began to move forcefully with arms around her neck.

“God, I love it!” she exclaimed.  “All I need is one in my mouth too.”  Her fingers remained busy, contributing a third erotic sensation.  Her soft screams betrayed long periods of ecstasy, peaking twice in orgasm.

Bill was mostly feeling amazed.  Two cocks in the same female bottom at once, and one of them his!  He knew that such things were sometimes done, though he’d never seen it depicted.  A “Greek sandwich,” he’d heard it called without knowing why.  Libido largely expended in the earlier activity, he could afford to examine this combination more critically.  He reached around the woman with both hands and caught her breasts, squeezing them until her torso writhed, testing once again a phenomenon noticed upon his second wife, that breasts could tolerate considerable pressure if gradually applied.  But the dual junction was the point of greatest interest.  He slipped a hand past his own plunger and captured the lad’s testicles, rolling them among his fingers along with his own, far more gently than he had treated the woman’s breasts.

Roger issued a loud yelp and immediately fell still.  Bill clasped the lad’s member and drew his hand away wet.  Clutching the woman’s hips, he continued pounding her, though he was beginning to gasp for breath.

She turned up her face and studied his.  “You better stop, Bill.”

“But I haven’t come yet.  I’m getting close.”

“Stop it now!”

But he continued to thrust.

She threw herself aside, almost falling onto the floor, and glared back at him.  “You old fool, do you want to kill yourself?”

Hand on his frustrated member, he found himself between Roger’s legs.  “Roll over,” he ordered and sought to turn the boy onto his stomach.  The lad complied, but with a sullen slowness.

Bill spread the sleek legs and penetrated the young butt in an instant, unmindful of the whining complaints. He achieved his pleasure after half a minute of ungentle thrusting.  Gasping hard for breath, he pressed against the boy’s flesh.  “Now comes … the good part,” he declared and slowly pulled out.

Louise had risen, one knee on the bed, to lean close.

Bill, feeling unaccountably pixyish, asked, “See something you like?”

“Two guys fucking is interesting.  I’ve never seen guys do it before.  Next time, Bill, you should be on the bottom.”

“That hurt!” the boy protested, rolling onto his back.

“Sorry, kid.  I got carried away,” Bill responded, fondling the young penis that amazingly remained erect.  “You worry too much, Louise.”

“It’s not from worry.  I meant you should fuck face up.  That would leave a cock for me to play with too.”

“If you weren’t worried, why’d you make me pull out of you?”

She chuckled defensively.  “I lost interest when Roge quit bashing my womb.  I have to really be turned on to stand one in the ass.”

 

* * *

 

After showering, they gathered again on the one bed.  Bill was exhausted.  He wanted to sleep with his head pillowed on the boy’s fresh thighs, and he resented Louise, who had taken charge of the youngster.  The woman lay beside him on her back with knees raised giving Roger an anatomy lesson.

“That’s my pleasure spot,” she said calmly.  “Lick on it.  I’ll teach you how.”

“Do I have to?”

“Girls love it, darling.  Your friend yesterday might not have run off if you knew how to please her.  Did she have hair down there?”

“Not like you.”

Bill turned his head and gazed at the woman’s face, just a couple of inches from his own.  With eyes closed and a smile on her lips she instructed the boy, who finally complied and went down on her.

“That’s right, darling.  That’s it,” she crooned.  “You’re a natural!”

She then gazed at Bill, who fondled one of her breasts, her twisting mouth recording the onset of an orgasm.  She gasped.

“Get on top now!  Fuck me!” she implored.

Roger’s face suddenly appeared above theirs.  Bill did not rise up to observe the action, because what was happening was evident in their expressions.  He stroked the boy’s shoulder, then pulled his head down for a kiss as the youngster ploughed the woman beside him.  He felt jealous toward Louise, wanting to be rid of her so he could have the boy all to himself.  He had the sense at least to find that attitude amusing — doubting that even Shakespeare’s Cleopatra could raise his aged manhood soon again.

When the woman cried out, the lad’s eyes widened and he whined in ecstasy through an open mouth.

That night Roger slept between the two adults, all three cupped together.  Louise snored loudly, awakening Bill long before dawn.  His penis, now contrarily half erect after its previous utter flaccidity, pressed against Roger’s crack.  He rolled onto his back and wondered how he had allowed himself to get involved with those two.  He kissed the sleeping boy’s shoulder and marveled again at the situation in which he found himself.

He shook his head in the dim streetlight filtering through the drapes, deciding that this sudden new lifestyle contained a serious wrongness despite the wonderful sex, more intense than he could ever remember, and despite the unique excitement of the boy’s indulgence.  He could scarcely recognize himself.  He had always been a proud man, and now he found himself on the verge of becoming a fool, roaming the country, a faggot with a pretty boy in tow.  At that moment, absent any detectable sexual desire, he felt distaste for the undignified woman and her obsession with the male sex.  He would much rather find himself another wife, a person of standards and decency, however boring that might be.

He sighed.  There was no avoiding it: he had to break off with these two.  He would give the kid some money to take him wherever he wanted to go.  As for Louise, according to her story she was accustomed to rejection.  He curled onto his side facing away from them and fell back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Bill awakened alone on the bed.  Morning sunlight flooded through drawn drapes.  Roger, naked, stood near the door.

“Where’s Louise?”

“She just went out for doughnuts and coffee.”

The youngster’s flaccid penis dangled at least four inches from the sandy pubic bush, and the scrotum drooped unevenly.  His legs, Bill thought, were as lovely as those of a svelte girl, and the face no less pretty.  For an instant he reconsidered the decision he had made the previous night, but quickly regained his resolve.  He would have to let the boy go in order recover his comfortable normal life, retaining only the memory of this incredible sexual experience.  Still, as some consolation, he would have the lad one last time.

“Come over her, Roge.”

The boy stepped close.  “Are we going to do it again?”  He didn’t sound at all enthusiastic.

“Wouldn’t you like another blow job?”

“Is that all?  My asshole is still sore, Bill.  You were really rough that last time.”

“I’m sorry, kid.  Just lie here beside me and I’ll bring you off.”

Roger reclined next to him on the bed.  When Bill sought to kiss his lips, the boy remarked, “You need to brush your teeth.”  Abandoning that delight, Bill licked down the sleek body, quickly reaching the penis and sucking it to erection.  After a couple of minutes of diligent slurping he was rewarded with a mouthful of semen, all of which he swallowed only because he assumed it would be his last opportunity to experience something like that.

He rose from the bed, rinsed his mouth at the sink, pissed, then brushed his teeth.  He returned to Roger with his own penis eager for some action, although he realized it was unlikely the boy would agree to be fucked again.  He would settle for a blow job.

Roger obliged him after some coaxing.  They accomplished it lying side by side in the sixty-nine position.  With cheek resting on a hairless thigh he held the boy’s soft penis in his mouth while the lad sucked away.  Bill admitted to himself that Louise did it better, varying tongue and lips, while the lad behaved as might a motorized vagina.  Of course Louise had the experience of an old-time courtesan, having been bred to it, so to speak.  A Viennese Oyster, indeed!  He began to understand the endless fun such experience could provide — and the value of the woman who offered it.

But he had reached a decision last night.  He spat the limp penis out of his mouth and rising to lean back against the padded headboard of the bed, repositioned their bodies with the lad prone, head between Bill’s legs, so that he could watch the face with a cheek bulging around his penis.  A curious eye rolled up above the bulge.

“Where did you think you were running to yesterday?” he asked.  “You certainly didn’t expect to live on the road.”

Withdrawing his head slightly, Roger answered with lips fluttering pleasantly on the knob, “My uncle’s place in Montana.  He’s got horses.”

“Thought it was California.”

The boy shrugged.  “That’s in the west too.”

“Huh!  Montana is a long way from California, my boy.  A horse ranch, eh?  Sounds nice.”

“Yeah, but he’s religious and strict.  I spent the summer there last year and it wasn’t much fun.”

“Still, it’s something regular, and the cops won’t find you, if they’re truly looking.”

The young mouth renewed suction for several head bobs before withdrawing.  “That was yesterday.”  He smiled confidently.  “Now I’m gonna suck my way to St. Louis.”  He chuckled, pleased by his own wit.  “Nobody ever said how much fun this is.  Where are we anyway?”

“Where?  What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you say this was Dayton, Ohio?  Wow!  Never been to Ohio before, and I sure never knew it could be so much fun!”  His mouth closed around the man and sank to a surprising depth.

“Careful,” Bill warned.  “You’ll strangle.”

The one visible eye twinkled.  Slowly the boy’s mouth enclosed more of the organ.  The visible eye clamped shut in a frown as Bill felt feathery pressure on his knob.  For an instant protruding lips compressed pubic hair.  The lad jerked back with a cough.

Bill shook his head.  “I told you!”

But Roger grinned triumphantly.  “I did it!  I bet I can learn it as good as Linda Lovelace.”

“Learn what?  You don’t mean deep throating!”

“That was the name of the movie.”

“Ha!  Where’d a teenager see Deep Throat?”

“Susie’s dad had a tape.”

“Susie?”

“The girl I screwed.”

“Susie and you watched it together, did you?”

“Yeah.  She tried to deep throat me.  She was learning.”

“And you want to practice on me?”

“Yeah.  Yours is long and fat.  I think a fat one is harder to do.  Let me try it again.”

Back into his mouth went the man’s penis, with the same result.  Bill offered a suggestion to hold his breath, then another to breath out strongly on the deeper thrusts, becoming interested in the problem.  He was just about to try it himself when Louise waltzed in, bearing breakfast.

“Hey, Roge,” she called, leering down at the upturned eye, “What I’ve got for your mouth isn’t as long but it’s tastier.”

They ate gathered around the bed, ignoring the crumbs.  “Funny thing in Burger Quick,” she said while chewing.  “All the bag stuffers were giggling, you know, with their hands over their mouths, and shooting looks at the girl taking orders.  She had a big streak of jism on her chin, but nobody would tell her.”

“Jism!” exclaimed Roger, wide-eyed.

“Probably mayonnaise,” suggested Bill.

“I think so too,” the woman agreed sagely.  “That crowd enjoyed pretending it was jism.”

“What’s that?” asked the lad.

Louise grinned at him.  “What you’ve been slurping from Bill all morning.”

The boy made a face.  “He didn’t come.”

“But you did?”

“Sure.”

“Well, after breakfast I’ll show you a trick that’ll get his juice.  And yours too.”

Bill warned, “We can’t keep canceling reservations all over the midwest.”

“What is it, eight-thirty?  We’ll have showers and be out of here before ten.  Anyway, what reservation?  Thought you cancelled the one in St. Louis.”

“You’re right,” Bill admittedly sheepishly.  “Roger, hand me that leather folder.”

After a few minutes study while they finished the meal, he said, “I’ll get us a room in Effingham.  It’s an easy 250 miles from here and about a hundred from St. Louis.”

Roger’s eyes were stricken.  “Only one more night?”

Bill went to the telephone without responding.  Louise studied the lad thoughtfully.  “What were you planning to do in California, Roger?”

He told her about the horse ranch in Montana.  “But Bill said he’d take care of me.”

“Did he!”  The woman chuckled.  “Sweetie, do you know what you really did when you stuck out your thumb in Pittsburgh?”

“Huh?  What do you mean?”

“You announced to the world, ‘I’m a man, looking out for myself.’”  She laughed wryly.  “As well as, ‘Here’s my juicy young cock, come and get it.’”

“You mean …”

“What exactly did Bill tell you?”

“To trust him.”

“And you do.  Why?”

The lad hesitated.  At last he responded, lowering his eyes, “Because he likes my dick.”

“Oh, well, now there’s a good reason!”

“Isn’t it?  I guess …  Are there a lot of  …”

“Cock suckers?”

“Yeah.”

“Of both sexes.  But it’s a dangerous life, Roge, especially on the road.  Too many pretty young boys — girls too — turn up dead in culverts because their new lovers remember, when they wipe off the jism, what the people at home will think if they find out.”

The boy looked concerned.  “Bill wouldn’t do … anything like that.”

“No.  I don’t think Bill has anyone back home.  Throw these wrappers in the trash, will you, while I get into my birthday suit too.”

When Bill hung up the telephone, he found his companions on the bed in a classic soixante-neuf.  The boy’s hips were moving languidly but with surprising range, as if the woman were not reversed beneath him, while his head, toward the foot of the bed, filled the space of her groin, longish pale hair shivering from his lingual effort.

Louise’s eye glittered under the lad’s hip.  She turned her head, freeing the penis, and asked, “Any trouble?”

“No, we’re all set.  I got a room with two beds.”  He added dryly, “Suddenly it seems safer to travel as Eric Johnson, with daughter and grandson, promising cash in advance.”  He shook his head.  “To tell you the truth, I can’t believe this is me.”

He took a deep breath and bent close to the boy’s work.  “If this is your idea of a new trick, Louise, I’ve got bad news for you.”

“I promised a trick that would get your juice.  Raise your head, Roge.”

The boy looked up curiously.  Saliva dripped from his chin.

“Get up on the foot of the bed,” she directed Bill, “and let Roge suck you to a stand.”

“Hmm.  And then what?”

“Then you can put it in me while he licks my clit.  I really like that.”

“Wow!” exclaimed the boy, eyes lighting.  He actually opened his mouth and shaped it into an O.  With a shrug Bill clambered onto the bed and presented his flopping organ to the rounded lips, which immediately slurped it inside.

“Louise,” he suggested, “this is designed to get your juice.”

“Oh, yes,” she agreed.  “It’s usually done with two girls, but actually a boy on top may be even more fun.  What you do is trade off.”

“You want me to swap with Roger?”

“No.  Hmm.  We’ll do that another time.  What I meant was, you share your cock between Roge and me, a dozen strokes in Roger’s mouth, a dozen in my pussy, then back to Roge.  If that doesn’t get your juice, nothing will!”

The lad made a choking sound, which the woman interpreted correctly.  “What’s your problem?  Worried about the taste?  Your tongue was just in there.”

“Um,” muttered the lad in acceptance.

Bill very much enjoyed the subsequent comparison, likening the lad’s tight lips to an anal sphincter and his tongue, somewhat, to the deeper vaginal sphincter.  He found it so interesting in fact that his juice appeared before Roger’s, to Louise’s laughing satisfaction.

 

* * *

 

When he returned to the car from registering in Effingham, Louise groused sarcastically, “You picked a fine one this time, Bill!  They don’t even have a bar, do they?”

“I guess not.  How was I to know in Dayton?”

“You might’ve asked!”

He sniffed.  “This morning I was in a hurry to try your new trick.  Take it easy.  The clerk said there’s a mall with a steak house half a mile down the street.”

“Oh.  Hey, I’d love a big rib-eye!”

“You do like meat, don’t you!  We’ll go get some soon as we check out the room.”

But in a show of motherly consideration, Louise tugged them into a discount store and bought the lad a change of clothing, paying cash herself without asking Bill to share.  When they finally reached the restaurant, they were all hungry and thirsty.  Roger, the still-growing boy, ordered the 16-ounce “chopped steak” — high-grade hamburger — and promised to make all of it disappear.  As he took a long drink of his soda, Louise jerked her head at him and asked, “Are we loading our agreeable companion up with too much exercise?”

“You mean me?” asked the lad, gulping his last bite of meat.

“Who else?”  She leered at him.  “Just how agreeable are you, Roge, sweetie?  Would you suck Bill’s cock fresh out of my ass?”

Eyes widening, he swallowed convulsively and made choking sounds.

Louise regarded Bill.  “Did you want to say something?”

“I … I …”  Bill took a deep breath.  “She’s pulling your chain, Roger.  Remember last night?  She won’t take one there without one in her cunt too.”

The woman laughed and said contemptuously, “You squeamish guys!  I’ve done it more than once.  You’d be surprised how clean the rectum is most of the time.”

Gulping, Roger spat his last mouthful into his napkin.

Bill said dryly, “You’re timing is poor, Louise.”

She grinned.  “It wouldn’t bother another woman.”  She reached into her waist-belted pouch, threw on the table a crisp hundred-dollar bill and slipped gracefully out of the booth.  “Come on, guys.  Now I want some round meat.”

“You’re over-tipping,” Bill noted.

“Because I’m impatient.”  Standing in the aisle with arms akimbo, she asked, “Does driving all afternoon bother you, Bill?  Are you tired or just getting too much these days?”

In fact the meal had refreshed him.  “Not quite yet.”  Beckoning to Roger, he slid out of the booth.

On the way to the car they passed a soda truck with crates of beverages unloaded on the curb.  Louise appropriated one of the small plastic bottles and handed a ten to the momentarily indignant trucker.

“You’re getting extravagant,” Bill pointed out as he unlocked the car.  “They’re only two bucks in the motel machine.”

“I need a warm one,” she explained.

Pulling out into traffic, he asked, “How much longer do you expect that unemployment check to last?”

He turned to see her grinning smugly.  “Long enough, Dad-dee.”

Roger in the back, leaning forward with elbows resting on the seat tops, asked, “Hey, are you guys really father and daughter?”

Louise barked a laugh.  Briefly Bill glared incredulously around at the curious face.  “Did you actually think we were?”

The woman interposed, “Come on, Bill.  He thinks we’ve been committing incest.  But is that worse than faggotry?”

“Incest is still illegal everywhere,” Bill responded stoutly.

Roger asked, “Weren’t you going father and daughter on the phone this morning?”

“Yeah.  And I told them you were my grandson, equally valid.  Surely you understand why!”

“Uh … no.”

“So they wouldn’t get excited about an old man, a young woman and a kid sleeping in the same room.  Some people still do.”

“I don’t …”

“Don’t what?”

“Wouldn’t they guess we’re gonna do, ah, incest?”

Both adults laughed.  Bill sniffed at the woman.  “Just my point.  Incest is so much worse they wouldn’t dare think us guilty of it.  And of course we aren’t.”

Roger bored in.  “Then what are you to each other?  You’re not married!”

Louise chuckled.  “Right on that.  I don’t believe in marriage.  The fact is, I’m just like you, Roge: sucking my way to St. Louis.  You still gonna put us out there, Bill?”

They were pulling into the motel parking lot.  He answered.  “When did you get in a rush?”

Though the sun had set, the sky was still bright.  Inside the motel room Bill made sure all the drapes were closed without gaps, shot the deadbolt on the door and turned around to find his companions throwing their clothing on the nearer bed.

Noticing his raised eyebrow, Louise grinned.  “For some things I’m in a rush.  Here’s some news for you: I can stand one man with his cock in my ass if it’s done the right way.”

Bill grunted.  “Which way is that?  Or do you mean one long enough to pass through your entire alimentary canal?”

Louise laughed widely.  “What a cock!”

Roger asked, “Her what?”

But the woman’s eyes narrowed with purpose.  “When I saw that coke truck, I knew we could kill two birds with one stone.”

Bill said, “Which two birds?”

“A lone cock in my ass and your squeamishness.”

“My squeamishness?”

She stood naked with the soda bottle in hand, grinning above the large, out-thrusting breasts with their small sharp nipples.  “Get your clothes off and come on into the shower with us.”

When he finally stepped around the curtain, they were ready with the soap and together scrubbed him quickly.  “Here’s the fun part,” said Louise, handing him the coke bottle from a corner of the tub.  “Roge has already greased my anus.  Hold this bottle straight up-and-down and unscrew the cap.”

As he obeyed, Bill asked with a whimsical sniff, “Don’t tell me you’re going to cram it up your ass!”

“You’re going to cram it up there!”  She moved to the back of the tub and bent forward, hands parting her buttocks.  “Roge, back up and give him room.  Bill, listen to me.  Put your thumb tight over the bottle and shake it up until it begins to spray out, then slip it into me.  Pop your thumb off at the last split second.”

Bill protested, “I can’t believe it won’t be painful!”

“Aw, Bill, it won’t hurt you a bit!”  She laughed over her shoulder.  “And me not much.  Roge has got me slathered with Vaseline.  He even stuck in his dick to test it.”

“What are you after, Louise?”

Her upturned face assumed an expression of aggravation.  “Quit arguing, damn it!  I’d let Roger do it except your thumb is fatter.  Now come on and shake!”

“Okay.”  Bill shrugged.  “It’s your ass.”  A few hard jerks on the bottle caused a hiss and a brown cloud to form in the wet air.  Quickly he presented the mouth of the bottle to the thoroughly exposed anus.  Popping thumb aside, he thrust it into her.

She cried out but ordered, “Hold it in tight and shake it…  Ooo, cool stuff!  But oh, my god, what a gas cramp!”

“I knew it would hurt,” Bill declared.

“Pull it out and stand back!”

When he obeyed, she dropped to a squat and farted a continuous brown fizz that the mildly beating shower soon scoured down the drain.  When the outpouring ceased, she returned to her previous position and looked around over her shoulder.  “Got any left?”

He held up the bottle, about a third full.

“Shake it really hard and shove it in again.”

Once more he obeyed.  She grunted as the ribbed mouth penetrated.  “Now squeeze it hard as you can!”

He clamped both hands on the flexible plastic bottle, collapsing it and forcing most of the liquid into her.  She squatted free of it and again squirted into the water.  Rising, she rimmed herself with her own fingers before turning to face the two males.  “One clean asshole for your pleasure, gentlemen.”

Roger, eyes wide, asked, “Do you like that?”

“Sure.”  She grinned hugely.  “You ought to try it sometime.  Come here.”  She soaped her hands and scrubbed his flagging penis vigorously.

“Not so hard!” he whined, pulling back.

“That’s for the Vaseline taste.  Come on, guys.  Let’s dry off.”

They followed her into the bedroom, where she stripped the unencumbered bed and threw its two pillows onto the carpeted floor, plus a pillow from the other bed, arranging them into a U.

“For my next trick …” she began with a wide grin, taking the man’s shoulder.  “Bill, you kneel here with the middle pillow between your legs.”  With him in position she added, “and catch my legs under your arms.”

“Do what?”

“Watch.”  She sat down on the floor well in front of him with her back turned and fell fully backwards, head crushing the pillow between his legs, so that her nose tucked under his rising penis.  As part of the same motion, her arms, resting on the two side pillows, elevated her hips.  Her shapely legs rose up and over until they were upside-down, parting around his torso.

“Catch them under your arms, Bill.”

He slipped his forearms under the inverted thighs.  Her bush was just before his face.  He looked down between their bellies and the bottoms of her splayed-out breasts to her eyes, sparkling on either side of the penile shaft.  With an incredible sniff he asked, “What do you call this?”

“Think about it,” she answered, voice hollow from its fleshy enclosure.  “The way most people do a 69, the numbers are lying on their sides.  This is a straight-up 69.”

He shrugged.  “Okay.”

“Only we’re gonna make it a one-69.  Roger, come around behind my butt.”

The lad stood above the upturned, very feminine genitalia, looking down with fascination into Bill’s stare.

“What’s his cock like?” asked the muffled voice of the woman.

Bill answered, “If you mean, is it hard, I’d say it’s getting there.”

“Help it along.”

The man had only to raise his chin a few inches and suck in the drooping flesh.  It was the first time, he thought, that he had mouthed it less than fully erect.  A few head bobs speedily corrected that condition.

She advised further, “Get it good and wet, Bill.  When it’s hard, Roge, shove it in my ass.”

“Huh?  I never did that.”

“Goody, a cherry for me!”  Her hands snaked up between her legs and pulled her cheeks well apart.  “There’s your target, kid.  You ought to be about ready.  And Bill, don’t forget to lick me.”

Roger looked wide-eyed down at his organ half out of sight in the man’s mouth.  He took a deep breath, backed slowly away, then almost reluctantly depressed his knob into the “target.”

“Shove!” ordered the woman.

Suddenly the knob disappeared.  His eyes grew wider still.  “Hey, it’s tight!”

But the man was licking at the top of her split.  Slurping sounds arose from the woman’s concealed head.  Roger began to pump, working himself deeper into the woman.

After several thrusts Louise turned her face slightly away from the penis.  “Now, like this morning.  Give it to Bill.”

Roger conceived no objection.  Withdrawing, he presented his organ to the lips of the man, who made a face and took a deep breath before accepting it.  After a few thrusts the lad’s curiosity overcame him.  He pulled out and asked, “What does it taste like?”

“Shit cola.”

“Really?”

“Like coke.  What else after filling her ass with it?”

Louise called, “Now put it in my pussy.”

Very little redirection was required.  “Hey,” said the lad admiringly, “this is neat.”

Bill resumed licking, tongue also flicking the top of Roger’s shaft, but continuing only briefly before raising his head.  “Dammit, I’ve tasted that before!”

“Tasted what?” asked Roger.  “You mean from an asshole?”

“No!  Pull out of her and let me look at you.”

Puzzled, the lad obeyed. Immediately the man growled, “Good god!”  He scrambled away from the woman, releasing her thighs.

Her buttocks fell against the boy, who supported them instead.  “What’s the matter?”

“She’s got her period!” thundered the man, now on his feet, penis jutting.

Wide-eyed again, the lad stepped back.  Louise scrambled to her feet and put two fingers into herself.  “Well, wha’d’ya know!” she exclaimed, regarding the result.

“Her period?” muttered the lad.

“Look at the head of your dick,” Bill advised.

“Some guys like it,” said the woman, curling her lip at him.  “But not you, eh?”  She turned away to her flight bag on the rack, rummaged in it and produced a box of tampons.

“You knew it!” Bill accused, glaring.

“I knew it was due today or tomorrow.”  She sighed.  “And I figured you’d be a spoilsport over it.  Excuse me a minute while I put in the cork.”

Bending on one knee over the other bed, she retrieved her panties and disappeared immediately into the bathroom.

Bill advised, “Better go with her and wash that blood off.”

The boy exclaimed breathlessly, “They really do bleed?”

Bill’s eyebrows rose.  “You didn’t know that?”

“Susie didn’t.”

“You said she was only 12.  She soon will; that’s about when they start.  What’s with you, Roger?  I can’t believe you slept through sex ed.”

“It was boring.”

Bill stared at him, slowly nodding.  “Yeah, and I bet they worked hard to make it that way.”

Roger took his still erect organ in hand, looking proudly down at it.  “I fucked her in the ass!”

The man grinned wryly.  “Liked it, did you?”

“Wow!”

“Or was it just the novelty?  A cunt feels better, kid, if the woman knows how to make it squeeze — and Louise can grip like a fist.”

“I want to do it some more.”

“She might let you, but you’ll make a mess.”

“I mean …”  He stared at the man’s midsection.

“I see,” said Bill dryly.  The woman’s attention to his own penis had been sufficient to leave it more than half erect even now — and gratifying the lad should ease any reluctance to return the favor.  He looked around but failed to spot his objective.  “Go get the Vaseline.  Hmm.  On second thought, you’d better leave her alone.”

“Won’t her hand lotion work?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see it.”

Two steps put the lad beside the woman’s flight bag, still unzipped as she had left it.  He opened the flaps and thrust a hand inside.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Bill warned.

Roger turned around suddenly, eyes huge, holding two mostly green objects before him in both hands.

Bill blinked, not recognizing them momentarily.  “What did you find?”

“Money.  And the bag’s full of it!”

The man drew closer.  Indeed the lad was holding two banded bundles of crisp greenbacks, one apparently of $100 bills, the other of $20s.

“How many is in one of these?” Roger asked rhetorically.  He tucked one under his arm and slipped a thumb under the seal of the other.

“Be care—” Bill began.

Bang!

The bundle in the lad’s hand flashed with the sharp crack of a gunshot.  Literally the man saw red everywhere.  He blinked hard.  Something was stinging his eyes.  He raised a hand to rub them and drew it away bright red.  What the hell!

The boy sat down hard on the floor and began to whimper, hands pressed to his face.  His torso, hair and hands were crimson.  Bill looked down and found the same bloody color splotched on his own chest and arms.  Glaring around, he realized that it had also splashed carpet and ceiling.  Suddenly he understood.  “A booby pack!”

“My eyes!” whimpered the boy.

“Don’t rub them,” Bill ordered.  “I’ll be right back.”

Apparently Louise had heard the explosion.  She popped out of the bathroom as he hurried towards it.  Her eyes rounded at sight of him.

“Did you know about that boob—” he began, then snarled past her.  Of course she knew about it!

“You bastards!” she screamed behind him.  “You’ve been into my bag.” 

 

* * *

 

Bill forced the boy’s head under the tub spigot and flooded his eyes with warm water before shifting to the spray of the shower and rinsing the red stain off both bodies.  After toweling dry they returned to the bedroom to find Louise fully dressed, seated on the clothing-strewn bed that had apparently been shielded by Bill’s body.  Roger’s torso had spared her bag, now perched in her lap.  A large part of the room, including the stripped bed, pillows on the floor, floor and ceiling where the two males had stood, and the wall were heavily spotted with the red dye.  The lad’s backpack and Bill’s own bag, behind the woman’s on the rack, had also been spared.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” said Bill, standing naked before her, hands on his hips.

“I thought about it,” said the woman.  Her eyes finally rose to meet his.  “But I need to know what you’re going to do.”

“What actually happened in that bank, Louise?”

Her chin rose.  “I expect you can guess most of it.”

“You were his accomplice, weren’t you?”

She clasped her wrists in her hands and looked at the curious lad, then back at Bill.  She took a deep breath.  “Yeah.  We’d been together five years.”

“Really!  No wonder his death had you bawling.”

“Tell me about it!  He was the sweetest man I ever knew.”  Her eyes brimmed.

“You’ve been robbing banks for five years?”

She shook her head, dashing the tears from her eyes.  “Off and on.”

“Together?”

“Yeah.  There’s an instant when you first exit the bank when nobody’s watching you.  My job was to grab the bag and run.  Sometimes we swapped bags to throw them off.  Like the other day.”

“How much did you get away with this time?”

“$11,400.”

“And a booby pack.”

“Yeah.  I meant to throw it away in Dayton but forgot.”

“A booby pack?” repeated the lad.

Bill explained, “A bundle of money hollowed out to hold red dye and a cherry bomb.  It explodes when you break the seal.”

“You mean …”  Roger’s mouth fell open.

“I tried to warn you.”

“How did you know it was a booby pack?”

“I didn’t.  It’s hard to tell unless you shake it.  It sounds funny.”

Louise grinned slowly.  “How do you know all that?”

“My last wife worked for a bank.”

She studied his emotionless face.  “Bill, this doesn’t have to change anything?”

“Doesn’t it?”  He barked a laugh.

“No.  You registered under an assumed name — what was it, Eric Johnson?  And paid cash in advance, right?  We can even spend the night here if we leave early tomorrow.  And I know you don’t like to mess with a pussy having its period, but I’ve got two other nice spots.”

He sighed.  “Louise …”

“And then there’s Roger,” she went brightly on.  “You know what it looks like, just you and him.  If I’m along it looks a lot better.”

“But you’re a confessed thief, Louise.  How can anyone —”

“Not me.  I didn’t hold up the banks!”

“The law won’t split that hair, and you know it.  You’re an accessory.”

She studied him and sighed.  “So is that it?  You gonna turn me in?”

He took a very deep breath.  “No,” he said, releasing the air from his chest.  “I don’t want to explain how I drove you out of Baltimore.  And as you say, there stands Roger.  I don’t want the law around anymore than you do.”

Her long face eased.  “Does that mean we can stay together?”

“No, it doesn’t mean that.”  He sighed once more.  “You’ve been marvelous.  The past few days have been the most exciting in my life.  But it’s over.  We’ve got to split.”

“I don’t see why.  Just because of a little red dye?”

“And what it says about you.  I admire your freely loving style, my dear, but not your freedom with other people’s money.  You should be ashamed of that.”

Slowly her face changed.  Her eyes fell.  “Maybe I am,” she said softly.

“Then I ask you, what are you going to do?”

She raised flashing eyes.  “March down to the police station and turn myself in.”

“Eh?”  Taken aback, Bill stared at her.

“I’m tired of this life too.”  She surged to her feet, set the bag carefully behind her on the bed and pushed against the lad.  One hand caught his neck, pulling his face to hers, the other his manhood.  She kissed him soundly and spun to face Bill, where she repeated herself, tongue probing, hand jacking the dangling organ.

“For old time’s sake,” she explained, taking up her bag and marching resolutely out of the motel room to pull the door closed behind her.

Both males stared after her, then regarded each other.  Roger asked, “What about me?”

Bill shook his head.

“No-o-o!” protested the lad in a high voice.  Suddenly he sank to his knees and slurped the man’s penis into his mouth.

Bill felt the rise of revulsion.  “Cut it out!” he ordered, backing away.  When the lad would have followed on his knees, the man shoved the boy’s head back.  “Watch yourself or you’ll be in that red shit again.”

Roger paused, sitting on his heels.  “B-but …”

“Don’t worry.  I won’t cut you off short.  I said I’d take care of you, and I will, but I’m afraid we’ve got to split, Roger.”

“I never did taste your come!”

“This morning.”

“You did it in her pussy.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I did.”  Bill took a breath.  “I’m sorry, pal, but my dick’s going to be a long time rising after this.”  He turned away to the strewn bed.  “Put on your duds.  We’ve got to wipe off fingerprints and get out of here.”

“Fingerprints?”

“This red dye is a special mix.  The FBI will be down here in no time when they hear about it.”

“Hey, are we in trouble?”

“Yeah, some.  Come on.  I don’t want to hang around any longer than we have to.”

When they had dressed themselves and polished all the glossy surfaces, Bill allowed the lad to precede him out the door, then carefully wiped both doorknobs, threw the towel onto the floor and pushed the door closed with his toe.

“Where we going?” asked the lad.

“To the bus station.  I’m going to put you on …”  His voice petered out.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s that damned pickup doing there?”

“Hey!  Isn’t that where you left the car?”

“Goddammit!”  Bill trotted right and left, peering all around the parking lot.  At that early hour of the evening, not yet quite dark, the lot was hardly half filled.  His car was nowhere in evidence.

He whipped his overnight bag open, found the spares pouch and poured its contents into his hand.  “Goddammit!” he roared again.

“What’s missing?”

“My spare keys!  Just on the off-chance, since you’re the one that’s free with bags, do you have them?”

“N-no!” the boy muttered blankly.

“Goddammit, she stole my car.  That little thieving slut!  If I get my hands on her again, you can bet it won’t be to squeeze her tits!  Son of a —”

But Roger grabbed the man’s shoulder.  “Look!  Isn’t that it coming?”

Bill spun around.  The light was failing, but around the approaching headlights he could see very familiar lines.  Sudden hope filled his breast.  Then he laughed contemptuously.  “She wouldn’t dare come back here!”

The car pulled into an empty slot.  A man got out, scanned the door fronts and strode to the very door that Bill had just closed behind himself.  Raising a fist, he knocked.

That sure resembled the missing car — and the driver in jeans and polo shirt sure didn’t resemble a cop!  With a gulp Bill shambled forward.  “You looking for me?”

The man turned.  “I might be, if you’re Eric Johnson.”

“Uh … that’s me.”

The stranger held up a set of keys.  “Then these belong to you.  Whatever your daughter’s done, I hope you’ll forgive her.”

Swallowing, Bill took the keys.  “What did she tell you?”

“She goes, ‘I can’t face him tonight.  Here’s 20 bucks.  Will you drive his car home?  I’m sure he’ll be glad to bring you back to the bar.’  And she was crying.  Mister, if I had a daughter that pretty, I’d forgive her anything.”


END
Kellis: kellis@dhp.com

Varangian: ludmax11@hotmail.com