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Subject: {ASSM} Demeter's Pet {Varkel} [12/19] (MF Mf Mg mF mf mg Fm Fb Mm Mb mb bb oral anal pedo fantasy
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Date: Thu, 06 Nov 2008 23:10:05 -0500
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Demeter's Pet
a Novel by Varkel
Summer, 2008


Chapter 12: _Revisiting Letty_


Understanding that the empty store might be rented at any time, Sam 
decided to acquire himself another refuge in the human preserve.  For 
this he needed a representative body.  Scanning under the Main Street 
overpass at night, he found several eminently disposable examples of 
_homo sapiens_, tucked back under the concrete arches away from the 
railroad tracks, mostly snoring like buzz-saws.  To his amusement he 
discovered a pair together, a dirty and unshaven middle-aged male having
his cock sucked by a beardless chin that upon closer examination proved
to belong to a female of indeterminate age.  He took control of the male
long enough to induce ejaculation.

In light leaking from a distant street lamp the woman raised her dirty 
face, eyes wide, licked her lips and said in a sweet soprano, "Curly, 
you done come already!"

Sam had already released control.  The man said, "You sucked better, 
Myrtle."

"Didn't do nothing different."

"You ain't complaining, are you?"

"No.  Give me my pete."

She produced a wine bottle from under her clothing and unscrewed the 
lid.  The man did likewise.  Carefully they fitted the bottle mouths 
together.  The man tilted the combination.  Liquid gurgled for several 
seconds.  The man's nose registered the odor of bad wine.

With her bottle again concealed, Myrtle crawled away.  Zipping his fly,
Curly took a swig from his bottle and watched her.  She merged with 
another figure farther into the gloom.

Using the powers of selection that Pester had helped him refine, Sam 
pulled Curly's body out of his clothing and stood him up across town in
the YMCA's communal shower.  Two other men were using it at that moment,
but as Sam had already verified, they were far too committed to notice 
Curly's appearance.  One was bent forward to have his asshole reamed and
his cock handled.  Both mouths hung open for heavy breathing and both 
sets of eyes were clenched shut.

Sam took control, turned on another shower head and began to soap up his
new victim.  The man's flabby skin was mostly free of sores, but layers
of dead cells sloughed off in the warm water.

Groans behind him attracted his attention.  He watched briefly as the 
sodomizer climaxed.  The bent man straightened and turned around to hug
and kiss his penetrator, who immediately turned away and bent forward in
turn, hands spreading his own cheeks to accept the other cock up his own
ass.  Obviously they didn't care if anyone watched.

Sam carefully bathed Curly's flaccid cock, still tingling slightly from
its recent discharge, and emptied the man's bladder.  After drying off,
he transferred his victim to a bedroom waiting to be rented.  Casting 
back into the city, he snatched a full outfit of underwear, shoes, 
socks, shirt, suit, tie and wallet, from the stock of a used clothing 
store.  Dipping into a drug store produced safety razors, shaving cream,
a toothbrush and toothpaste.  With the garments spread over a chair and
the hygiene products in the bathroom, he lay down and released control.

Curly shivered, got up, went to the single door and found it secured 
with a key-locked deadbolt.  Then he went to the window but saw only 
blackness below a sky lit by the city's night glow.  "Jesus Christ!" he
muttered.  "What a blowjob!"  He sighed and returned to the bed.  Soon 
he was snoring.

Curly would need walking-around money.  Mentally Sam found a convenience
store open at this late hour and waited until the clerk next closed the
cash drawer, at which moment he cleaned out its receptacles of paper 
money.  He left the money lying in a pile on the table before the cheap
room clock and skipped forward in time until the clock indicated nine, 
at which point he slipped into the sleeping head.

He ordered forcefully, _Curly, you lazy bum, WAKE UP!_

The man bounced up in the bed as if stuck with a pin, stuttering, "Wh--
what?"

_Get your ass up and get dressed._

"Good god, good god!" declared the man, hands pressed to the side of his
head.  But he struggled out of the bed and stood up, bracing himself on
the table edge.  His eyes bugged at the pile of money.  After a moment 
he realized his nakedness and glared quickly around, presumably to 
verify his solitude.

He slapped his hip, probably the gesture of habit, and asked 
plaintively, "Where's my pete?"

_Damn your pete!  Get in the bathroom and shave yourself._

"Yes, sir, yes, sir!"  He located the bathroom and staggered into it, 
almost falling onto the toilet.

Detecting a full bladder, Sam let him empty it.  _Now get up and shave._

The man stared around.  "Who's that giving orders?"

_Mr. Delirium.  Get going!_

"What if I don't?"

Using what Pester had called his _pull_, Sam threw Curly off the stool 
face down into the tile floor.  The maneuver barely had room.  The man's
head knocked over the empty trash can.

_Now get up and shave, you worthless piece of shit._

"Oh, god, take it easy!"

Curly rose on unsteady feet, rubbing his head where it had contacted the
trash can.  At the sink he found the safety razor, puzzled over the 
shrink-wrapped package and finally ripped out the cardboard backing with
his broken fingernails.  He held up the instrument in a trembling hand.
"I'll cut myself to ribbons."

Obviously he would.  Sam took control but soon found he could hold the 
razor no steadier.  In disgust he freed the man's mind.

_Okay, you win this one, but I'll hurt you if you balk me again.  Brush
your teeth and comb your hair._

He retained maybe half his teeth.  The two upper central incisors were 
missing.  After scrubbing and spitting, Curly wet the comb and managed 
to slick down the fringe around his bald pate.

_Good enough.  Get some clothes on._

With a lot of fumbling he removed tags and finally donned the suit, 
which was a size too large but usable.  With more fumbling he even tied
the necktie in a half-Windsor.

_Looking better, Curly!  Now stuff that money in the wallet._

It was too much.  The wallet was distorted.  _Take out half of it._

Of course Curly removed the low-valued bills, leaving mostly twenties.
He put the wallet in his hip pocket and stood with the remaining money 
in his hand, clearly awaiting instruction.

_Throw it on the floor._

As the bills fluttered in the air, Sam transferred the man to an alley 
already selected, where he staggered, looking wildly around.

_Take a right on the street and stop at the diner.  You need breakfast._

"I want pete!"

_What you'll get is bacon and eggs.  Get going!_

Sam directed Curly through his meal, which he ate heartily enough 
after an unenthusiastic start, and on to a barbershop for a shave.  
Thereafter he entered the real-estate office.  He had selected this 
city block forthe diner and adjacent agency; the barbershop was a 
bonus.

"Yes, sir, what can I do for you?" asked the agent, a smartly dressed 
woman of middle years.

Sam took control.  "I want to buy a small house for my nephew's 
residence, say three bedrooms, not particularly new but well-maintained,
in a neighborhood with few children.  Oh yes, and it has to be 
furnished."

"Furnished!"  The woman's eyes rounded.  She shook her head.  "I doubt 
you'll find such a house for sale anywhere in the city.  Now if you're 
interested in a rental --"

He held up a hand.  "No, ma'am.  You buy the furniture and I'll cover 
it.  He's not married.  He won't care about the style."  Sam grinned.  
"Pretend you just got married and need to furnish it cheap."

"I ... guess I could do that.  Of course the mortgage won't cover 
furniture.  Unless we do something creative."

"No mortgage.  This is strictly a cash -- that is, a cashier's check --
transaction."

Her eyes brightened.  Sam continued, "One last condition.  The property
has to be available for immediate transfer, like tomorrow.  This 
afternoon would be better."

She was unfazed.  "I don't think the furniture could be delivered that 
quickly."

"It could if we paid for the service."

She was smiling.  "Mr. ... ah --"

"Davis.  William J. Davis."

"Mr. Davis, I think we can do business."

"Good!  How about a ballpark estimate on the cost?"

"Well, the house I have in mind is just under 400, and --"

"That's a little steeper than I want to go.  I said a _small_ house.  
You ought to have something under 200.  I assume that's 200,000."

"You're in luck.  We have many houses for sale just now."

"Remember: well-maintained and few children in the neighborhood."

"Why is that, if you don't mind?"

"He's got a third-shift job and needs his sleep."  Sam's actual reason,
given that the house would be rarely occupied, was to minimize 
vandalism.

"I believe we can accommodate you.  We'll work as fast as we can, though
it may not be immediately."

"If you can't do it in two or three days, forget it."

"We'll try hard, Mr. Davis."

"All right, give me your card.  I'll get a cashier's check for 250 
grand.  Make it out to your agency?"

"Goodness, you're in a hurry!  Yes, sir, that will be fine."


* * *


Knowing that he was a pedophile and subject to governmental 
interference, Sam had stashed half the proceeds of his second novel sale
under the name of a random child who had died at age five while 
possessed of a social-security number.  He practiced signing the name, 
William J. Davis, smoothing out Curly's trembling hand, several times 
before strolling to the bank that held the novel account.  He had no 
trouble with the cashier's check, even without identification, because 
he knew the PIN and the signatures matched.

Slipping futureward two days, he signed that name again on the bottom
of his new deed and accepted a ride to the house with the real-estate 
agent.  It was his first visit.

She breathed, "It certainly was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr.
Davis!"

The place was clean, cheaply furnished but adequate.  Electricity, water
and gas flowed.  Sam transferred Curly to his bank and deposited another
cashier's check for $12,843.77.  Then he slipped into the corner liquor
store and bought two fifths of Crown Royal, one for each side pocket of
his coat.

Curly's next transfer was on the path to the Main Street overpass, where
Sam released control.  Curly, after the usual delay in discovering his 
autonomy, opened one of the bottles and took a deep swig.

As the light failed deeper under the overpass, he met a ragged 
middle-aged woman.  Her eyes widened.  "Curly, is that you?  Where'n 
hell you been the last two days?"

"Two days, hell!"  He shook his head.  "You won't believe it.  Come on
back with me and have a drink."

"Wow, good looking stuff!  Want a blowjob?"

"Hell, no!  I'm off blowjobs for life."


* * *


Safe in his new bedroom, Sam relived his adventures, taking particular 
interest in those of his "victims" who had immediately acquired a new 
enthusiasm for matters sexual, in particular 12 year-old Hugh's interest
in fisting women and 39 year-old Letty's embrace of fucking in 
general.  When he looked for her, he found her in a motel room with 
Jerry Overby.  Of course.

Slipping into her head merely to observe, he discovered Jerry's cock up
her ass.  She was bent over a table placed before a wall mirror.  Jerry 
stood behind her, hips undulating.  Both were naked.  They had removed the
shade from the cheap table lamp, whose bulb illuminated her face 
starkly.  Sweat beaded her forehead and her lipstick was nearly worn off.
A whitish dollop dangled from her chin, trembling to Jerry's rhythm.  A 
closer examination revealed that it wasn't sweat on her forehead.  More of
it spotted her cheeks.  She was biting her lower lip and moaning 
intermittently to a low-level orgasm.  Fingers under her belly massaged 
her clit.  Their eyes were locked in the mirror.

The man was smiling.  He said, "You're a wonder, Letty."

"So are you, Jerry.  I wonder if you'll ever find me another dick."

"I'm trying, but it's not easy.  I'm not Sam or Fred.  When I drop a hint, 
guys act like I'm crazy -- or queer."

"That's an idea.  Would queers be easier?"

"Damned if I know -- and damned if I want to know!"

After a while she said, "I wonder if we'll ever hear from them again."

"Why should we?  They've got the whole world to pick from."

"I wonder if they ever think about the morality of what they do to 
people."

"Don't start on morality."

Sam slipped forward in time to the moment Jerry separated the bodies.
A glance at the digital clock on the silent TV surprised him: nearly an 
hour had passed.  Letty was glaring into the mirror.  "You aren't 
quitting, are you, Jerry?"

The man sighed.  "You know I can't keep it hard after the second shot."

"That's one reason to get me another dick."

"I'll keep looking."  He stumbled away, breathing hard, and fell heavily 
on the disheveled bed.

She went into the bathroom, pissed in the toilet and washed her face at
the sink.  Returning, she took a coke from the under-shelf refrigerator, 
popped the top, took a strong pull and gave the can to the reclining 
man.  She began to don her clothing, hung neatly over a chair.

He asked, "Can you make it tomorrow night?"

"No.  Got that sewing class."  She sighed.  "Bob's starting to wonder 
where I am every night."

"Not every night."

"Almost.  Last night he asked me where I go that turns me on so."

Jerry chuckled.  "You mean you've finally begun sucking his cock?"

"Too often, I guess.  I almost put him up my ass the other night.That was
close!"

"Why do you love it up your ass?"

"I've got a sensitive cervix.  Even a short dick makes it sore."

"But feels good enough in the ass?"

"Oh, yes, with a little fingering."

"You say I've got a short dick?"

"Don't get touchy.  I told you about that kid in the park."

"Christ, you broads have it made!  What do you need me for?You can get 
all the dicks you want by yourself."

"Not two at once."

"Sam spoiled you."

"Both of us."

Hand on the door latch, she sighed.  "Okay.  Night after next."

"You can bet I'll be here!"


* * *


The next trick would be collecting curious Hugh.  Sam flashed ahead to 
the following afternoon.  Twelve-year-old Hugh was ... apparently in an 
attic ... with another, smaller child, a boy in T-shirt and shorts.  The 
kid was stepping ahead over rafters padded with insulation.  He reached 
a floored area, turned around and sat down on an old trunk.  He was a 
smaller version of Hugh with lighter hair.

"All right, Hugh," he said softly in a piping voice, "here we are.  What 
do you want?"

Hugh stood before him.  "You told me the other day about your cock 
getting hard in the morning."

"You said yours does too."

"Yeah.  Well, I found out something really great about that.  I wonder 
if you're old enough to learn it."

"I'm ten.  That's old enough."

"Sure it is."  Sam felt Hugh's hands on himself.  To his surprise his 
host was removing his own shorts and briefs, pushing them down to his 
ankles before standing straight again.

The seated boy's eyes widened.  "Yours is hard now!  You got to pee?"

"It gets hard for other reasons, Joey.  Let's see yours."

The boy stood up readily and pushed down his own lower garments.  
"Mine ain't hard."

"Not yet.  Maybe I can make it hard."

"Make it how?"

"Joey, you know you can't ever tell anybody about this."

"I don't rat."

Hugh's hand gently lifted Joey's balls.  Thumb and forefinger caught 
the soft lump of flesh, at this point mostly knob, and stretched it 
out.  Joey's head bent in fascination.

"It's almost big enough," mused Hugh.

"Big enough for what?"

Hugh's fingers worked the slippery skin.  "Feel that?"

"Oh, wow!"  Joey's eyes widened.  He looked up at his brother in awe.

"It's growing," Hugh noted.

"Oh, yeah!"

Hand on his own cock, Hugh dropped to his knees and leaned forward.  
Still lifting the tiny scrotum, he suckled the immature penis into his 
mouth.

"Jesus!" said Joey, twitching.

Hugh stroked with his tongue while maintaining suction.  The organ 
rapidly firmed up, growing to the size of a small pickle, almost 
reaching midtongue.

"Oh, Jesus!" cried Joey.

Hugh backed away, licking his lips.

"Don't stop!" Joey commanded fervently.

"Keep your voice down!" Hugh whispered.

"Okay, okay!" Joey whispered and stumbled forward, pressing his small 
organ toward his brother's mouth.

With a chuckle, Hugh accepted it again.  Now that it was stiff enough for
resistance, his head bobbed in and out, continuing until Joey stiffened
and arched his back, at which point Hugh spat it out.

"You finish it!" he ordered the slack faced boy.

"Good god, _how_?"

"Like this."  High caught Joey's hand and closed it around the organ, 
pumping.  In a jiffy Joey took over, pumping faster, breathing in puffs.
At last he sagged back on the trunk, sighing extravagantly, crimson knob 
upthrust.

Hugh stood up and grinned at him.  "Didn't I tell you it was great?"

"Whew!  Do it again."

Hugh laughed.  "You have to wait awhile, you know."

"God!"

"Don't cuss."

"I'm not cussing.  God!"

Hugh had himself in hand also, jacking leisurely.  Joey eyed the 
brotherly knob, appearing and disappearing.  He sat up and leaned 
forward, mouth opening expectantly.  Of course Hugh slipped his turgid 
organ into the pink hole.  Joey began to suck while his tongue stroked 
the knob.

As Hugh's thrills intensified, Sam thought to warn him, but curiosity 
made him forbear.  Joey's mouth froze and his eyeballs popped at the first
squirt.  At the second he jerked back and spat a white glob into the 
gloom.  The third painted his face from nose to chin.  He dodged the 
fourth, sputtering.  By the fifth Hugh was jacking fiercely and had turned
away.

"You pissed in my mouth!" declared Joey in outrage.

"No, I didn't," protested Hugh between gasps.  "It's not piss."

Joey's eyes narrowed.  "It came from your pee hole!"

"But it's not piss.  It's come."

"What?"

"When you get a little older, maybe twelve, you'll make it too."

Joey's expression cleared.  He smacked his lips.  "You're right, it's not 
piss.  Oh, yeah.I've heard of it.  It makes babies."

"In a girl."

"Why'd you squirt it in _me_?"

"Because I came.  Like you did.  If you were my age, you'd've squirted 
too."

Joey thought it over.  "That's messy."

"Tell me about it."

Joey sniffed."I don't need to tell you; you can see it."

Hugh chuckled.  In a moment Joey added a giggle and pulled up his 
T-shirt to wipe his face.

Sam flashed ahead, watching for a moment when Hugh was seated at a 
desk.  It seemed to arrive almost immediately.  Sam took control and 
made the boy write in his notebook, _You're a fast study_.

"Huh?" muttered Hugh as Sam released him.  "Good god, is that you, 
Sam?  Wh-what's a fast study?"

Sam wrote further, _Come to the mall food court tonight at 6:30 and I'll
show you even more fun._  He didn't wait around for the lad's reaction.


* * *


Yes!  Both Letty and Hugh were in the food court at the appointed hour.
It was crowded with hungry shoppers.  Letty was attacking a hamburger 
seriously.  At her feet lay a purse and a bulging cloth bag.  Hugh wore 
his back pack, now much lighter, and was content merely to sit, watch 
the passing throng and wait.

Sam slipped into his head and hesitated but decided to try it.  _I hope 
you're not so easily spooked as Elgy._

The lad jumped and looked wildly around.

_This is Sam.  I'm in your head but haven't taken control.  Can you 
stand it hearing me this way?_

"Uh ..."  The boy bit his lip and nodded.

_Good.  That's a brave lad.  You can talk to me by whispering so others 
can't hear._

"Are you sure?" he whispered.

Sam chuckled silently.  _Of course I'm sure.  We'll talk later.  Are you 
ready for an adventure?_

"W-will I get hurt?"

_Not while I'm around._

"Another fag?"

_Not this time, although I notice you learn fast._

"That's what you meant by 'fast study,' isn't it?  You saw me and Joey.
Who're you going to tell?"

_Tell?  Don't be silly._

"Then okay."

_I'm taking control.  I'll give it back when things are well started._

Sam caused the boy to stand and to weave his way among the diners to the
woman.

When he stood at her elbow, Letty looked him up and down.  "Can I help 
you, kid?"

"Stand up, Letty."

"Young man, you don't speak to grownups --  Unless ..."

Sam chuckled.  "You got it, sweetie.  Stand up and let's walk down the 
hall."

"What about my sandwich?"

"Leave it or bring it, as you wish.  You'll be my mother in case 
anyone asks."

She gathered up purse and bag and got to her feet, discarding her 
sandwich and drink.  "If anyone asks, what's your name?"

"Hugh.  We'll take a little trip when everyone looks away."

"Back to that empty store?"

"No, to a place that's more comfortable."

"Comfort isn't everything."

"More secure too."

No one showed interest in a mother and her son strolling the mall.  As 
they turned out of the food court, Sam transferred them both to his 
newly setup bedroom.

Letty gasped.  "God, this is crazy!"

"Are you complaining?  You didn't even have to take your shoes off."

"But I will, won't I?"

The maid had been and left the thick drapes pulled open.  Sam closed 
them before flipping the switch that turned on the bedside lamps.  He 
pointed.  "Bathroom's in there.  But come on in the kitchen and grill us 
a sandwich.  You're hungry and I'm a growing boy."

She looked around.  "Smells kind of new."

"Some of it is.  This way.  You can cook, can't you?"

"I can grill a sandwich all right, if you've got the makings."

Again he pulled the kitchen drapes before turning on the light.  She 
immediately began opening cupboards, examining appliances and inspecting
the refrigerator.  "How about a grilled ham and cheese?"

"Sounds good."

"Then you set the table."

"I admire a gal who knows what she's doing."

As they set to their tasks, she said, "Is that all I get out of a 
god-like pubescent -- a grilled sandwich?"

"How about untiring pudendal attention?"

"From a little boy?  He has that much stamina?"

"Because of what he gets from _you_: a close pussy inspection."

"He's a virgin?"

"With his whole hand."

She paused, staring with wide eyes.  Her face softened with interest.
"Let me see the hand."

Sam held up his right hand with the fingers formed into a point.  As 
she watched he closed them into a fist and suggested, "Padded between 
the knuckles.  Feel."

She rubbed him there.  "So?"

"So it won't bash your cervix."  He raised his thumb.  "Especially if 
the thumb stays outside to stroke your clit."

She licked her lips in fascination.  "Will it ... will it fit?"

"Compared to a baby's head?"

"Oh.  But that really hurts!"

"Yeah, stretching the cervix and all those muscles.  A boy's hand just 
sends you to heaven.  The difference is you come back."

"Holy god!"  She shuddered.

"A little one already?"

"You are a devil, Sam."  Heaving a sigh, she turned back to her sandwich 
making.

Having set two places at the table, he came up behind her, unbuttoned 
her blouse and unsnapped her brassiere.  She let him guide the garments 
over her arms then cup her breasts.  He explained, "Hugh's never had 
this pleasure either."

She shivered but said nothing when his fingers tweaked her nipples 
erect.  "You have such nice ones, Letty."

"Thank you."

"You spoke as if you have some experience squeezing out babies, but you
don't have the marks."

"A few marks.  I have a son.  He's older than Hugh."

"A son?"

"Don't you mess with him, Sam.  He's innocent."

"Did you think I go for little boys, Letty?"

"Well ... don't you?"

"I picked up High mainly because I needed a non-threatening 
representative.  He turned out to be a fast study."

"I remember you making me do things.  I could still see and feel 
everything.  You enjoy his learning, don't you."

"Okay, I do."

"Can you feel his reaction to it?"

"Not in his mind.  I can't read minds."

He worked on her jeans and panties, pulling them down her legs.  She 
lifted her feet one at the time for him to remove them.  His hand 
cupped her pudendal mound.  "When did you start shaving your pubes?"

"To please a man, of course."

He giggled.  "I didn't ask _why_."  As he removed his own clothing, he 
asked, "Who was the kid in the park?"

"How'd you know about him?"

"Who was he?"

"Not much bigger than you, never saw him before or since.  I spied him 
jerking off and dared to take him in the bushes and suck his cock.  It 
was easy as pie."  She chuckled.  "He started squirting as soon as my 
mouth touched him."

"Then he wanted to fuck, did he?"

"Well, so did I.  But he got too far between my legs."

"Too far?  What do you mean?"

"It was a short cock, about like yours, but it still bruised my 
cervix.  Huh!  Were you in Jerry's head the last time we fucked?"

"Yours.  You've become a hot number, Letty."

"I always was, just didn't know it.  If you don't quit rubbing my clit, 
I'll burn these sandwiches."

She transferred the grilled sandwiches to their plates while he poured 
cokes.  When she took her seat, he paused, standing beside her.  "Let me 
give you an appetizer."

"Your sandwich will get cold."

"Just enough for good eating."

She bent and sucked the small, hard cock into her mouth, working her 
tongue.  Her fingers squeezed the tight scrotum.  In twenty seconds he 
sighed and began to squirt.  She swallowed convulsively, eyes wide.  He 
braced himself, one hand on her shoulder, the other on the table, trying 
to endure the after-pangs, but his knees weakened and he sagged out of 
her mouth.

She grinned at him, licking her lips.  "What's the matter?"

Gasping, he said, "Young kids ... come too hard."

"That's a fact.  They squirt like a water pistol."

He giggled.  "But you enjoy it, don't you?"

She sighed.  "Of course.  I can't believe it took me so long to learn 
that."

"You're welcome."

"Yeah.  Thanks, Sam."  She imbibed a mouthful of coke and swirled it 
around.

He took his seat and they ate their sandwiches.  He said thoughtfully, 
"How old was the kid in the park?"

"Maybe thirteen.  I didn't ask."

"His name either, I bet."

"No.  But he followed me to the bus stop."

"Worried you, did he?"

"Scared me to death!  Boys love to brag.  I could just imagine him 
telling anybody who'd listen."

Sam giggled.  "What did you imagine him saying?"

"'I just fucked her in the bushes' -- at the top of his lungs."

"Are all women pedophiles?"

"Huh?  Now look here, Sam --"

"What is it -- unlike men, the kids can't take control?"

She looked into distance.  "You may have something there.  They seem 
safer, but when that kid followed me, I realized they aren't.  Grown 
men are a lot more satisfying, and they don't all try to take charge.
Jerry, for example.  He's a honey pot."

"Young boys can also be satisfying.  I'll show you in a minute."

In the bedroom he arranged her on her back at the bedside, legs hanging
off.  He knelt between them, lifted them over his shoulders and bent to 
lick her shaved labia, adding the clit when she gave evidence of orgasm.
His fingers worked into the sopping vagina: three, four and finally the
thumb, careful not to thump the cervical lump.  He drew them into a fist 
as his hand passed the knuckles.

"How's that?"

"It's big.  It's stretching me."

"Does it hurt?"

"N-no.  Oh, god, anything but!  I've heard of this, Sam, but I always 
thought it was girls who did it to you."

"Hugh's hand is even smaller."

He worked the hand more up-and-down than in-and-out.  She began to moan.
He popped out the thumb and applied it to her clit lightly.  Her moans 
became louder, rising and falling.  He understood that she was climaxing 
over and over.

An open tube of lubricant waited on the bedside table.  He slathered it 
around her anus, then rubbed his free hand there to coat it.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You like it in both places.  Just relax."

"A _hand_?  You think it will take a hand?"

"We'll see.  Some women take a grown man's hand to the forearm."

He inserted two fingers through the sphincter.  "Relax, Letty."  When 
the third and fourth were well lodged, he slid the hand forward up to 
the web of the thumb, and began to work it in and out while resuming the 
agitation of the other hand with its thumb on the clit.

When she screamed softly, he asked, "Want me to quit?"

She only screamed again, hips beginning to roll in the aroused female 
response.

At that moment Sam released Hugh's controls.  The boy's hands fell still.

"Oh, no!" cried the woman.  "For god's sake don't stop!"

Hugh resumed the motion with both hands, even to Sam's amusement adding
a thumb to the anal penetration.  At first the screams grew louder but 
gradually they weakened.  The lad's arms were tiring but he continued 
gamely for minute after minute until gasping for breath, she became 
otherwise limp.

"Is she all right?" Hugh whispered.

_You have before you a female transported to heaven._

"Olympus?"

Sam would have chuckled.  _A more personal heaven than that._

"Do all women like it this way?"

_I think fisting works better with the older ones._

"_She's_ not old!"

_Probably older than your mother.  Letty is 39._

"Gosh!  Can I quit now?"

_Why don't you slip your cock up her ass?_

The lad withdrew his hands, rose partly to his feet while bearing the 
weight of the woman's legs on his shoulders, and guided himself into the
recommended orifice.  Of course he penetrated easily, but the sphincter 
closed reflexively.

Letty's eyes were open.  She shook her head.  "I can't believe it's 
tight enough."

"Yes, ma'am, it is too.  It's feeling better and better!  Oh-oh!"

After a moment she giggled.  "Even a boy's jizz is cool."

Her amusement was infectious.  Hugh began also to giggle.  When his hips 
fell still, her legs separated around his sides.  She sat up on the 
bedside.  Her arms went around him and pulled him into her breasts.
"Oh, you sweetie-pie!"  She kissed him all over his face.

At last she hitched herself farther onto the bed, lay back and pulled 
him atop her.  She peered into his eyes, "Sam, that's not you in there 
now, is it?"

_Tell her._

"No, ma'am.  I'm Hugh."

She smiled brightly and squeezed him against her.  "I thought not.  You 
are a lovely, lovely child.  "Her hands roamed his chest."  And your 
skin is so smooth and perfect.  I wish you were mine, you darling."

"So do I."  He dared to kiss her cheek.

She responded with probing tongue in a full-blown kiss to his lips.  "I 
want to eat you up," she said soulfully.  Her hand went to his groin.
"And this sweet thing is still hard.  Could you do me --  What does Sam 
call what you just did?"

"Uh, fisting."

"Could you fist me again like that?  Or was it all Sam?"

"I could do it."

"Your arms aren't tired?"

"Well, they are a little, but I could still do it."

"I wonder ...  I wonder if we could arrange it so I could ... please 
you too."

He blinked.  "You mean ..."

"Suck your cock while you fist me."

"Well ..."

"Let's get straight in the bed.  You turn around and lie on top with your
feet toward the head."

They managed it.  With a pillow under her head to raise it, she could 
mouth his sex organs freely, alternating between scrotum and penis. 
Because of the sharp bend in that wrist, he could no longer put thumb 
past anus, but in compensation he licked her clit sheath.  She was soon 
moaning as before.  When Hugh climaxed, her mouth slurped with each 
squirt and continued to suck, causing him to twist his hips away until 
the unbearable sensitivity eased, at which point she opened to him 
again.

When she began to scream, she spat him out.  Curious about the female 
sensation, Sam transferred from Hugh's head to hers.  _Ecstasy_, he 
thought later, was the only word for the feelings in her belly, alien 
and powerful beyond description.  He withdrew, wishing for the first 
time that Pester had remained available to him.

They lay quietly panting.  Hugh said hesitantly, "Uh ... Letty, ma'am, I 
shouldn't stay out too late."

The woman did not respond.  She had passed the screaming stage and was 
limp, breathing hard, occasionally twitching.

_Take your hands out of her and get off._

The lad obeyed and sat up, studying the curvy body from head to 
foot.  "She's so beautiful," he murmured with a detectible sense of awe.

_You think so, do you?_

"I love her."

_You'll get over it._

"Can I stay with her?"

The woman opened her eyes and asked hoarsely, "Who're you talking to?"

"Sam."

"How does he talk back?"

"In my head.  It's like I think what he says."

"That's interesting.  Then he can hear me, right?"

"I guess.  Yeah, I'm sure of it."

"Sam, I want you to know I've never felt anything to compare with this 
boy.  He's better than all you men put together."

_Ask her ..._

"He wants to know if I arouse your mother instinct."

Her face showed horror.  "God, that's an awful thing to say!"

_I think the party's over.  Get dressed._

Hugh rose and went into the kitchen.  Behind him Sam heard the bed creak 
and the rattle of water in the bathroom.  On his own initiative Hugh 
gathered up the woman's clothing and took it to her.

Having started the shower, she pulled the curtain aside far enough to 
say, "Get in here with me."

"No.  I have to take one soon as I get home."

"Why?"

"House rules."

"Huh!  Why is it so easy to forget you're just a kid?  Well, wash your 
hands at least.  I know what they must smell like."

"Yes, ma'am."

When they were dressed, she said, "Can I talk to Sam?"

He took control of the boy.  "Speak."

"I want to ...  God help me, I _need_ to see this young man again.
Often."

"That could cause problems, Letty.  Serious problems."

She heaved a sigh.  "I know it.  What am I going to do?"

"Maybe you can seduce a boy who is more convenient to you."

"Will you ...  I need to talk to you as you do with Hugh -- privately."

"It scares some people."

"I can stand it."

"All right.  Later.  Ready to go back to the mall?"

Boy and woman agreed, so he transferred the woman to the food court and
the lad to the other end of the mall.  He didn't wait around for a 
discussion with Letty.  He knew what she wanted.  _Get me a boy -- or 
three_.


Contact:
Varangian: ludmax11@hotmail.com
Kellis: kellis@dhp.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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