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Message-ID: <35135asstr$1013137805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Too Much Time" <toomuchtime2002@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Sammy's Hot Summer - Chapter 2 (m F)
Date: Thu,  7 Feb 2002 22:10:06 -0500
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<1st attachment, "sammy02.txt" begin>

The following is probably a work of FICTION.
It was sent back in time in a quantum bottle.
So who really knows for sure? ...

Feel free to reprint or take credit for it
(as if I could stop you), but please don't make
any changes, or I won't write the next chapter!

If you haven't already, you really should read Chapter 1 first ...
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2002/34652

SAMMY'S HOT SUMMER
Chapter 2: A Helping Hand

by TooMuchTime (TooMuchTime2002@hotmail.com)

Copyright(c) 2002, TooMuchTime.  All rights reserved.

	I couldn't believe it.  One minute I was laying there in bed, jerking off, 
and before I knew it, the room brightened, as somebody turned the lamp on.  
I hadn't even heard the door open.  I turned, and there she was, my neighbor 
Bethany, dressed only in a pair of heels, her red hair cascading down her 
back, her huge tits ... well, just huge.  Before I even knew what was 
happening, she had crawled on top of me, pushed my sheets aside, and was 
riding my cock, her nails digging into my chest, her breasts bouncing, 
moaning louder and louder, then screaming, as I became increasingly worried 
that she might wake my parents.  And yet I couldn't bring myself to make her 
stop.  Pleasure flooded over me in a wave ...

	And then I awoke, my cock still spasming, my sheets a mess.  This, of 
course, was not an uncommon occurrence -- I was 13, after all.  What was 
different this particular morning was that it felt more real than usual, 
because of what had happened the day before.  Or had it?  That fact was, I 
couldn't decide whether the previous day was just a vivid dream as well, or 
if it had truly happened.  My father was a psychologist, so I knew a little 
bit about the various disorders that make people believe things that aren't 
true.  Certainly, I wasn't some paranoid nut who thought the CIA was after 
him, but was there perhaps a special kind of psychosis that affected only 
hormone-enraged teenage boys, and made them believe that their sexual 
fantasies were real?  Maybe I'd run across Bethany's website and imagined it 
all?  Certainly this made more sense than the idea that a gorgeous web model 
had gotten topless for me, then seduced me into masturbating in front of 
her, while she did the same in front of me.  Still, it DID all seem very 
real.  And when I went to my hamper and sniffed the t-shirt I'd worn the day 
before, there was the faint, sweet smell of her perfume where her hands had 
touched my shoulders numerous times.

	Of course, the only way I'd know for sure if I'd been dreaming was to 
return to the scene of the crime.  After a quick shower, I threw on some 
shorts and a fresh t-shirt, and made my way downstairs.  The plan was to 
shovel down a couple of pop-tarts, a glass of orange juice, then head next 
door.  So much for plans.

	"Morning, Sweetie."  There was my mother, sitting at the breakfast nook in 
some old baggy clothes, drinking her tea and reading the newspaper.  My 
mother, who should have been at work at this time on a Tuesday.

	I stopped in my tracks.  "Mom.  Hi.  What are you doing here?"

	She laughed.  "Well, last I checked, I live here."

	"I know, but ... why aren't you at work?"  I ventured into the kitchen for 
my pop-tarts, going through the motions as if everything were perfectly 
normal, although I was sure my face looked guilty as sin.

	"I called in sick.  I have a ton of days saved up, and there's some 
gardening I've been putting off because of the heat.  It's supposed to be a 
bit cooler today than it was this weekend."

	"Oh."  I tried to mask my annoyance.  With my mother home, I wouldn't 
really be able to justify going next door to see Bethany again.  I guessed I 
could probably just leave, say I was going to a friend's, then more or less 
sneak into Bethany's house ... but then if Mom happened to see me ... or if 
a neighbor saw, and told my mother ... it would create suspicion, and 
possibly ruin what could otherwise be the greatest summer for a 13 year-old 
boy in recorded history.

	As if reading my mind, Mom asked, "So what do you have planned today?"

	"Me?  Nothing really.  Probably just play games on my computer."  
Unfortunately, I thought.

	"Nobody to play with?"  At first, I thought this was a sign that she 
somehow knew something -- that "play" was code for what Bethany and I had 
done the day before.  But of course that was just paranoia talking.  What 
she was really referring to was Kevin.  She knew that I'd spent 90% of my 
time hanging out with Kevin before he moved away, and that with him gone, I 
spent more time than ever in my room.

	"Not really," I said.  "I don't know, I might ride my bike later.  See 
who's down at the park."  Best to leave the option of exiting the house open 
for myself, I thought.  Just in case I got bold, and decided to sneak over 
to Bethany's after all.  "I don't know, I'll figure something out."

	"You're always welcome to help me with the gardening work ... but I'm 
guessing from that sour look you just got on your face that you're not 
really interested in that."  She smiled.  "Well, the offer stands."

	"Thanks," I said.  "I don't know, maybe."

	And with this, I grabbed my pop-tarts and juice and went back upstairs to 
my room.  Dammit, I thought.  This screws everything up.  What would I do 
now?  I sat down in front of the computer, and decided to check my e-mail.  
Maybe Kevin had written.  Nope.  Just some junk mail.  Then I pulled up the 
web browser, and typed in the URL to Bethany's site.  There again was the 
homepage she'd shown me the day before -- her cupping her huge tits, smiling 
devilishly at the camera.  I clicked through to the greeting page, and 
started checking out all the bikini and lingerie photos I'd been too 
self-conscious to look at when she was right over my shoulder.  Almost 
immediately, I grew hard.  I really wished she'd let me have the login to 
the members section, so I could see some of the nude shots.  Yet it was 
probably just as well.  With my luck today, I'd be right in the middle of 
masturbating, and my mother would come knocking on my door, asking me again 
if I wanted to help her do some weeding.  Then I noticed something ...

	Of course, I thought.  There, in the left-hand column, was her e-mail 
address.  It was an AOL account.  Which meant that if she was online, I 
could probably instant message her.  Or I could at least e-mail her, and 
make another appeal for the username and password of her members section.  
It was worth a try anyway.

	I typed in her screen name -- "BustyBethany34DDD" -- to see if she was 
online.  She was.  Excellent.  Now the big question was whether or not she'd 
actually reply if I sent her a message.  More often than not, whenever I 
tried to message women -- especially ones with hot member profiles or 
personal pages -- I was ignored.  Probably because they got IMed so many 
times in a day.  But again, it was at least worth a try.  I typed ...

	PennsyGeekBoy:  Hey Bethany, it's me Sammy, you there?

	I waited for about a minute, but there was no response.  Oh well.  It was a 
long shot anyway.  Maybe I'd just send an e-mail instead, and hope she 
didn't get so many letters in her inbox that mine would get lost in the 
shuffle.  I had just started typing a note when an instant message came 
through ...

	SuperKewlTeenChik:  hey sweetie!!!

	PennsyGeekBoy:  Who is this?

	SuperKewlTeenChik:  it's me Bethany

	PennsyGeekBoy:  You are there, cool!  Why this screen name?

	SuperKewlTeenChik:  it's my daughter's account .... mine had so many IMs

	PennsyGeekBoy:  Oh okay.  That's cool.

	SuperKewlTeenChik:  are you coming to visit me again today?

	PennsyGeekBoy:  Not sure.  My mom is home!   :(

	SuperKewlTeenChik:  oh that makes it tricky i guess huh?

	PennsyGeekBoy:  Yeah, a little.  I was looking at your site instead.

	SuperKewlTeenChik:  see anything you like?   ;)

	PennsyGeekBoy:  I think you know the answer to that!

	SuperKewlTeenChik:  hey, i have an idea

	PennsyGeekBoy:  What?

	SuperKewlTeenChik:  sit tight

	PennsyGeekBoy:  Huh?

	But this last message never went through.  It told me "SuperKewlTeenChik is 
not logged on".  I figured maybe she was switching screen names again.  So I 
waited.  For a minute.  Another minute.  Then I got impatient, and tried to 
message her again.  Still not there.  I tried her at her main screen name.  
Not there either.  Maybe she got a phone call?  I went back to looking at 
the photos on her site, trying to be patient.

	Suddenly, my mother called up the stairs, "Sammy?  Could you come down 
here?"

	I checked myself, and saw that my erection had faded mostly.  Good.  
"Coming, Mom!"

	As I rushed down the stairs, I saw my mother standing at the front door ... 
with Bethany!  I stopped halfway down, and tried to size up the situation.  
The contrast between the two women was, of course, unmistakable.  My mother 
in her frumpy t-shirt and baggy jeans, short, thirty pounds or so 
overweight, her hair a mess, hands and face already a bit dirty from the 
early stages of weeding.  Bethany in a soft yellow sundress that went down 
to her knees, tall and slim and busty, her long red hair pulled together 
with a scrunchie behind her head, well-manicured long red nails, and a fresh 
face of makeup, including bright red lipstick.  Both seemed to be smiling, 
but my mother's smile looked like more polite than actually amused.  
Bethany, meanwhile, just beamed, "Hello again, Sammy."

	I began to panic.  What was going on here?  Had I just been busted or 
something?  "Hi," I said, meekly.

	My mother tried to fuss with her hair.  "Looks like you have plans after 
all," she said.

	I tried to let my confusion show on my face as much as possible.

	"The pool," Mom said.  "Bethany here tells me you said you might clean her 
pool today."

	"Oh," I said.  "Right.  I forgot."  I ventured the rest of the way down the 
stairs.

	Bethany spoke up.  "Well, we hadn't set it in stone or anything.  If you're 
not free ..."

	"No," I said, carefully disguising my excitement.  "It's okay.  I'm not 
really doing anything."

	"Did you fix a price yet?" my mother asked.

	I turned to Bethany.  "I don't know.  Did we?"

	"Well, how about ... twenty dollars each time?  And all the soda you want.  
And of course you're welcome to use the pool any time you like, as long as 
you ask me ahead of time."

	"That sounds pretty reasonable," Mom said.  "Don't you think, Sammy?"

	"Sure.  Very reasonable."  At this point, I wished that Bethany would just 
wrap things up.  I was starting to feel amazingly awkward.  But instead, she 
continued to drag things out, and I suspected she was torturing me.

	"Elaine (this was my mother's name), did Sammy tell you he fixed my 
computer?"

	Mom smiled over at me.  "No, he hadn't mentioned that."  I shrugged in 
reply.  "He is very handy with those kind of technical things.  Sometimes it 
seems like the harder something is, the more determined he is to fix it."

	"You don't say," Bethany said, catching my eye and smirking.  "Well, I can 
appreciate that.  I'm the same way usually.  The harder the better.  Just 
not with computers."  I couldn't even believe she'd said that.  I wanted to 
crawl in a hole, certain that my mother had caught the double-meaning.  But 
if there was any recognition of it, it didn't show on her face.  If 
anything, I got the impression that she simply wanted Bethany to leave."

	"Well, I need to get back to my gardening," Mom said.  "It was nice to meet 
you."

	"Likewise.  Sammy, come on over any time you're ready."

	I nodded.  "Okay."  And just like that, my day got brighter.


	*	*	*


	I decided to wait a little while before going.  I was afraid that if I just 
rushed over, Mom would suspect something.  Better to play it cool.  I 
planned on waiting an hour, but once half that time had passed, I was 
practically crawling the walls.  Half an hour would have to be "cool" 
enough.  As I made my way out the door and past my mother, she glanced up at 
me briefly, and told me to "do a good job".  I almost wanted to scream out 
laughing.

	Unlike the day before, Bethany answered the door right away this time.  
"There you are.  What took you so long?"  She rushed me into the house and 
shut the door behind me.  Since I'd last seen her, she'd changed from the 
yellow dress into a skimpy red bikini, tall red heels, and a thin white sun 
robe that was open in the front.  Her hair was still pulled back with the 
scrunchie.  But no matter what else I looked at, my eyes kept coming back to 
her tits.  She caught my glance and smiled wickedly.  "Did you miss them?" 
she asked, and leaned in close.  With the difference in our heights, this 
put her chest directly at face level, and her sweet perfume assaulted me.

	I swallowed hard.  "Yes, very much."

	Suddenly, she took my right hand in hers, lifted it, and brought it to rest 
on her soft tit.  For a moment, I nearly forgot to breathe.  This was 
certainly new territory.  Bethany leaned in to whisper hotly in my ear.  
"They missed you too," she said.  "In fact, they were very mad that they 
never really got to meet you."

	I held my hand still against her breast, knowing I should do something, but 
unsure of exactly what.

	"Would you like to meet them?" she whispered.

	All I could think to do was nod.

	Bethany gently pulled my hand away, took a step back, and lifted the bikini 
top up and over her tits, leaving them to bounce slightly as they were set 
free.  Again, her nipples were rock hard marbles, and again I was amazed by 
the sight of her amazing melon-sized beauties.  She stepped closer, and took 
my hand once more, guiding it to her breast.  I cupped it gently, pressing 
my palm against the nipple, and she moaned softly.  "Ohhh, Sammy."  Then, 
surprising me, she hooked an arm around my waist, and began to pull me 
toward her while she moved backwards at the same time, until she finally 
crashed against the front door and I crashed against her, my hand still on 
her tit.

	I glanced quickly around me, and confirmed that there were no uncovered 
windows anybody could see into.  Feeling encouraged, I began to squeeze and 
fondle her breast, which made her moan a bit more loudly.  Meanwhile, my 
cock was straining against my shorts, and when her thigh suddenly pressed 
against it, I nearly came on the spot.  "Ohhh, Sammy," she said again, as 
her long nails trailed their way up my spine, to my neck, then gently 
gripped the back of my head.  She was pushing it toward her ... and 
downwards ... as if she wanted me to ... "Kiss it," she said.  I certainly 
wasn't going to resist.  My mouth lowered itself onto her sweet engorged 
nipple, doing only as she'd told me to at first, kissing it softly, until 
her hand pushed me harder, and it became clear that she really wanted more 
than that.  My mouth opened almost without me realizing -- the act 
instinctive -- my lips enveloped her large nipple, and as my tongue found 
the rock-hard tip, she groaned and her entire body immediately shuddered, as 
if I was passing electricity through her.

	And just then, the doorbell rang.

	I lifted my head up quickly, and looked to Bethany's face, which was 
wide-eyed and had an almost comical expression to it.  We just froze there 
like that for several seconds, both of us clearly uncertain of what to do 
next.  There was somebody just two feet away from us, on the other side of 
the door.  Possibly my mother.  Of course, whoever it was, they couldn't see 
anything.  Yet still, there was that panicked thought.  What if they could?  
Finally, Bethany put both hands on my chest, and gently pushed me away, then 
pointed for me to go upstairs.  I deferred to her judgment, and rapidly but 
quietly made my way up the stairs, just as the doorbell rang again.  When I 
glanced once over my shoulder, I saw that she was busily putting her bikini 
top back in place, and sashing the thin white robe across her front.  She 
checked to see that I was out of sight, then opened the door, as I watched 
stealthily from around a corner.

	To my relief, it turned out not to be my mother, but an overweight phone 
guy.  From what I could hear, he'd come to wire the DSL connection from the 
first-floor den -- where Kevin's family had originally had it installed -- 
up to the second-floor room that used to be Kevin's bedroom and was now 
Bethany's office.  She pointed out the direction of the den to him, then 
paused at the bottom of the steps long enough to mouth up at me the words 
"GO TO MY BEDROOM" with large over-exaggerated lip motions.  Of course, I 
thought.  Any minute now, the phone guy would be coming upstairs to do 
something in the office.  For whatever reason, she didn't want him to see 
me.

	Once again, I did as I was told, and rushed into her bedroom, quietly 
closing the door behind me.  No sooner had I done this than, sure enough, 
they were advancing up the stairs, Bethany talking so loudly that I had to 
guess she was just making sure I knew they were on the way.  Well, I 
thought, nothing to do now but wait.  I looked around me at the clutter of 
the room -- open suitcases, stacked boxes, clothes everywhere.  The bed was 
free of clutter, but still unmade from having slept on it the night before.  
On the floor beside it were the clothes she'd worn the day before, and after 
a quick glance at the door, I leaned down and picked up the tiny pink tube 
top I remembered so well, brought it to my face, and inhaled deeply.  Her 
sweet scent filled my nose, and it alone was enough to give me the rumblings 
of an erection.

	I sat on the bed, placed the tube top on the sheet beside me, then reached 
for the pillow.  This too, I brought to my face for a long whiff, and as I 
went to put it down again, I saw that there had been something under it.  
Something ... very interesting.  A thin pink vibrator, no more than 5 inches 
or so long.  And just as I was about to pick it up, I heard Bethany's voice 
directly outside the door, saying something about going to get changed.  She 
cracked the door open, still talking to the phone guy.  "Just let me know if 
you need anything."  In a rush, I threw the pillow down, over the vibrator, 
and in almost the same motion, brushed the tube top onto the floor, just a 
bare second before the door opened completely and Bethany walked in.  If she 
noticed that I looked guilty, she didn't mention it.  Instead, she wore a 
large smile, and her eyes were wide and excited as she locked the door 
behind her, then switched on a radio atop the dresser, and sat beside me on 
the bed.  "Boy, that was close," she said, low enough so that the music 
would mask her voice.

	"Yeah, I'd say so."  I loved the way her arm felt pressed against mine, and 
made a point of not moving.

	"Uh oh," she said, and her smile faded.

	"What?"

	"Well ... I think I left the KY jelly sitting on the desk in the office.  
 From yesterday."

	"Really?"

	She smiled again.  "No.  Just kidding.  It's right over here."  And with 
this, she leaned over my body, far enough so that her warm breasts were 
pushed into my lap, and pulled open the nightstand drawer.  She reached in, 
and fumbled around for so long that I suspected she was purposely dragging 
the moment out, then finally came away with the tube of KT in her hand, and 
sat back up.  "See."

	Of course, I wasn't completely naive.  "You could have just told me it was 
there," I said.

	Bethany nodded, as she deftly untied the sash of her robe.  "True.  I could 
have."

	"So why didn't you?" I asked.

	She removed the robe entirely, and let it fall back on the bed, then 
reached behind herself to untie and remove the bikini top as well.  Once 
again, I was transfixed by the sight of her enormous chest, and at this 
point, no longer felt self-conscious about openly staring at them.  "I'm 
sorry," she said, her tone playful as she ran her long red nails in circles 
around one of her nipples.  "What was the question again?"

	"Huh?  Nothing."

	"So do I get to see yours now?" she asked, and reached down into my lap.  
Firmly, she cupped my insanely erect cock through my shorts.  "Mmmm, I think 
it's happy to see me."

	"Y-yes," I said, willing myself not to cum on the spot.  If not for the 
fact that I'd had a wet dream only a couple of hours before, I might not 
have succeeded.  "Very happy."

	"Let's see how happy.  Pull those shorts down for Mommy, okay?"  Without 
bothering to even say anything, I lifted my ass off the bed, and rushed my 
shorts down to my knees, underwear and all, as quickly as I could manage.  
Quickly enough that it made her laugh.  "Oh my.  You are an obedient boy, 
aren't you?"

	I continued to stare at her tits, wide-eyed.  "Yes.  Mommy."

	"Ohhh, and a smart boy too.  You're learning my weaknesses."  She placed a 
hand on my chest, let it linger there for a moment, then suddenly and 
swiftly gave me a hard push, forcing me onto my back.  Before I knew it, she 
was leaning over me, whispering into my ear.  "We don't have much time."  
She leaned forward further, and there were her tits, hanging pendulously in 
my face, lowering ... lowering ... until one of her marble-sized nipples 
brushed against my lips, and I found it hungrily with my mouth.  This sent a 
quiver though her body that made the entire bed tremble, which encouraged me 
to suckle even harder.  I barely even noticed the cool wet sensation on my 
cock as she squeezed a bead of KY onto it ... but I certainly felt her hand. 
  My god, did I feel her hand!

	It was the first time anybody other than myself had ever touched one of my 
erections, and it was everything I could possibly have hoped for.  All she 
did at first was rub the lubricant up and down my shaft, over the head, 
coating it all, but very slowly, as if she knew full well that if she went 
too fast, I'd be done for.  And once I was fully slick, she stopped, and 
began instead to tease my full tight balls with her nails.  It was 
excruciating torture, and I loved it.  Then she found my shaft again and 
stroked, expertly, slowly at first, then gradually faster, squeezing the 
head and giving a little twist each time she reached it.  At this point, it 
didn't take long ...

	The pleasure that passed through my body during the next thirty seconds or 
so was almost indescribable.  The first thing I noticed was that my hands 
began to buzz, and went more or less numb -- something to do with my 
circulation, I guess.  On the heels of this, my balls began to contract, and 
then, like a furious storm, my cock began to shoot cum in long satisfying 
spurts that I would never have even dreamt possible.  And the more I came, 
the faster and more vigorously Bethany stroked me, mixing the cum itself in 
with the KY to slip and slide her hand over my shaft, urging me with her 
voice:  "That's it, baby.  Ohhh, yes.  Cum for Mommy.  Show me how much I 
turn you on.  Mmmm, such a good boy."  Over and over again I shot my load, 
the intensity waning a bit each time, until eventually, there was nothing 
left to milk out of me.  And yet, that still wasn't the end of it ...

	My cock still twitching, I realized that I had my head bent almost all the 
way back, my chin pointing toward the ceiling, and as the waves of pleasure 
subsided, I leaned forward again, so that I could see what kind of mess I'd 
made.  My first sight was a smiling Bethany, sitting there on the bed next 
to me, still holding my shaft, her neck and tits and stomach covered with 
large gobs of my cum.  "Stay still," she said, and I watched as her hand, 
which had slowed down a bit, began to speed up again, this time 
concentrating almost entirely on the head.  This was a feeling altogether 
different from my orgasm, because the head was now so hypersensitive that 
the intensity was almost more than I could bear -- out of the blue, I began 
to laugh uncontrollably, as a kind of unbridled euphoria kicked in.  Not 
wanting her stop, but not wanting to alert the phone guy to my presence 
either, I quickly grabbed one of the pillows and clamped it over my face, 
then laughed hysterically into it, as Bethany's hand continued unabated.  By 
the time she stopped a few minutes later, I was in tears.  I removed the 
pillow from my face to find her using both hands to smear my cum across her 
huge tits and over her nipples.  Her expression reminded me of a baby 
playing happily with its food.

	"Wow," I said, knowing full well that it was the understatement of the 
century.

	My voice jarred her out of the reverie of playing with herself.  She 
grinned down at me.  "Wow indeed.  You made quite a mess," she said, then 
leaned forward, and unexpectedly, planted her mouth on mine.  Ironically, 
this was my first real kiss as well -- and the irony lay in the fact that 
I'd always kind of assumed that I would have my first kiss before I got my 
first hand job.  But I certainly wasn't going to complain about the ordering 
of things at this point.  As her warm lips and tongue explored mine, I 
became somewhat light-headed, and wondered how many hours it would be before 
my blood found its way to all the right places again.  "Thank you," she 
said.

	"Thank me?" I asked, somewhat incredulous.  "Thank you!  That was amazing."

	"Oh, that was nothing," Bethany said.  "You'll see."  Then she blew me a 
kiss, stood, and walked across the room to the bathroom.  I just continued 
to lay there, my erection gradually waning, enjoying the half-naked site of 
her.  After she cleaned herself off, she began to change into the yellow 
sundress she'd been wearing earlier, and made a point of giving me an 
impromptu strip show as she did.  "Well," she said.  "I better get back out 
there.  For all I know, he's robbing me blind right now."  Her eyes wandered 
from my face down to my now-limp member, and she smiled devilishly.  "Just 
stay up here for now.  I'll let you know when it's safe to come out.  
Shouldn't be long."

	And with that, she was out the door.  Eventually, I pulled my shorts back 
up again.

	Well, I thought.  I least I knew now that yesterday hadn't been a dream.


	*	*	*


	At the dinner table that night, my father asked, "So what did you do today, 
Sammy?"

	I shrugged.  "Nothing exciting."

	"He cleaned the neighbor's pool," my mother said.

	"No, I didn't actually.  When I went over, she had me give her a hand with 
some other things instead."

	"More trouble with her computer?" she asked.

	"Yeah."  At this point, there was no way around lying.  "Just some computer 
stuff."

	"Well," my father said.  "I certainly hope she appreciated it."

	It took every ounce of strength I had not to laugh.  "I'm pretty sure she 
did."

	"Is she still paying you to clean her pool?" Mom asked.

	"Yeah, she is.  I'll probably do that tomorrow."

	"Good," my father said.  "I'm glad to see you're keeping yourself busy."

	"Yeah, me too."  And with this, I smiled, already thinking about tomorrow.

	(TO BE CONTINUED)


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