involving a neighborhood youth. He had come home early from work one day and found his wife performing fellatio upon a thirteen-year-old boy. Subsequent to the divorce, Marge had undergone several years of intensive psychiatric care before she had come to reject her therapy sessions and had moved to another city to start afresh. Securing a job as an operator and renting a small home next door to Clark's, she went into a life of semi-seclusion. She dated infrequently, having little interest in men her own age. She preferred to spend her idle hours at her small home which she shared with her miniature poodle, Arnold.
But there was more to her non-working time than Arnold. One of the prime reasons she had taken the training to become a telephone operator was due to the fact that she could arrange her working hours so that she could often work nights, leaving her days free to participate in her favorite pastime-hunting out young boys to seduce. The urge had been too powerful for even her lengthy therapy to cure; the desire was as strong as ever. And, as any psychologist can tell you, the desire to change one's behavior must be present in order to effect a change.
This time, Marge was much more careful in her screening of applicants for her matronly attentions. Not wanting to risk another embarrassing situation as had developed in her home town, she was very cautious in her approach, trying to hint around with the various boys she engaged in conversations from time to time, trying to pry information from them. This way she was able to decide whether or not the boy had previous experiences in sexual matters, not wanting to take the chance of seducing a complete novice who might suddenly balk and wind up exposing her secret to a parent.
There had been Tommy. Tommy, the fourteen-year-old newsboy who proved to be not nearly as experienced as he had boasted, but then that's the way all teenaged boys were anyway… men too, Marge concluded. But he had worked out pretty well, what with her expert training. Damned shame his folks had moved to another part of town just when she was getting him to be a cunning cunnilingust, as she called those that qualified for one of her higher honors. The new newsboy was just too young…
maybe eight or nine. Anyway, he looked like an overly-plump Mouseketeer or something.
Then there was Eddie, the kid that cut her lawn once in a while. Too eager-getting to be like the older men that she disdained. All ego and no orgo. Demanding and rough. He still did in a pinch.
Other times, she had picked boys up in the park, offering them financial rewards for their endeavors. But on her tight income that carne to be a little expensive. Besides, it was sort of risky where total strangers were involved.
What she really needed was a novice-that was the biggest kick, teaching an initiate all the facts. At least all the facts she wanted them to know. Marge had a specialty… oralism.
There was nothing better than teaching a young boy the proper way to worship the female, how to adore her with his lips and tongue. But it was so risky with the unlearned… where could she find someone to suit her purpose? Then she spotted
Clark.
He was young, going on thirteen at the time. She had talked to him several times across the backyard fence and he sure seemed to be more interested in baseball than bosoms. Perfect! She could get him interested. But it had just been during the last few weeks that she had given him any consideration as far as sexual matters. He was at that early stage of adolescence where boys shoot up like weeds overnight. He was losing his baby fat in the process, retaining just enough to give him that childish appearance that she was crazy for. And that slob of an old man of his worked late… it could be worked out just perfectly.
That is, if she could get Clark to see it that way.
As it is with the best laid plans, they usually work out better by chance. And just by chance one day, Arnold scampered out the front door and escaped as Marge was leaving to go to the market. And just by chance, Clark was walking up his driveway upon his return from school. As Clark tells it:
'I was walking up the driveway, coming back from school when that little dog came yapping up to me. Belonged to the lady next door-one of those Pygmy Poodles. Never liked those dogs. Prowler comes, and those damn dogs just run around in circles and piss all over themselves. Anyway, about that time the lady that owned the dog yells out for me to catch him, so I threw down my books and picked the little shit up… yapping and pissing at me all the time, So I go on over to take him back to her. Man, I hadn't really noticed that chick before! Maybe it was just that I was just starting to get into digging broads, I'm not sure. Whatever… she was really an out of sight old broad. She had on one or those knit jersey tops and her lungs would've broken right through it if she took a deep breath. She was a little heavy through the
hips, but they were nice and curved. She had on shorts and I could see that she had some really neat hips. Knocked me out.
'So I handed her dog back, and she puts him inside and shuts the screen door on him and starts rapping with me. Now remember, this was a few years back-I didn't have too much experience then. Man, I must've been like twelve… almost thirteen. I mean, I had heard a lot of stories from my friends, and once, when I was about nine or so, my cousin had dropped her drawers to let me see what it looked like. That wasn't too neat though-she was only around seven then. So the way this lady comes on… well, I, just sort of played into her hands since I didn't know too much about sex or anything.
'She started asking me about different things, like what a 'handsome young man like yourself' did for kicks. So I guess I told her about baseball and a lot of-stupid crap like that… dumbo for sure. Somehow we got to talking about school and I told her what a tough time I had with math. Well, she tells me that she knows all about math, — that she was a whiz at it in her school days and asks me if I'd like a little help. Sounded like a pretty good idea to me-I hated math, and about the only help my old man ever gave me was to tell me that he'd beat the shit out of me if my grades didn't go up soon. I ran over to pick up the books I'd thrown down when I got her dog, and came back to her house and went inside.
'As I sat there on her living room couch, while she went to the kitchen to fix us some iced tea, I had a funny feeling come over me. Like I had some kind of a flash that she wanted more from me than just to help me with my homework. It was a little scary, since I didn't know one thing about doing it, yet I was kind of hoping.she might want to show me what it all really adds up to, if you know what I mean.
'She came back into the living room with a big glass of tea for both of us, and sat down next to me on the couch. She crossed her legs and I couldn't help but suck in some air when I saw that skin close-up like that. She had a good tan-I'd seen her in her backyard sometimes in her swimsuit, with just a few blue veins showing through like older chicks get after a while. I don't know why, but seeing the veins under a chick's skin has gotten me all shaken up ever since then. Couple years later, I ate out this chick who had been knocked up by this friend of mine. She was about seven months gone, and those veins running across her swelled gut just about blew my mind.
'We didn't get down to the homework right away. We just sat and rapped. She told me she was divorced, where she worked-all that. I guess I was giving her just a little too much of the 'respect your elders' crap that my mom had taught me, 'cause she told me to quit calling her Ma 'am and to call her Marge. As time went on, I never could get her to tell me her exact age, but she was somewhere around thirty-five. She was real uptight about it.
'We finally got around to the homework. She took one look at the book and about shit-she didn't know it was the new math. Like to me, it's the same old lousy math, but to the old times it's new. I don't think she was too interested in helping me with my homework anyway-it was just an excuse to get me inside. What we ended up doing was the best homework I ever did.
'Then she started asking me some questions, kind of hinting around about things, you know. She asked me if I had any girl friends, and when I told her 'no' she really acted surprised. I'm not sure exactly how the conversation went, but the next thing I know we're talking about sex. She was rapping on about things I'd never heard of but I pretended to be hip and just sort of nodded my head. She asked me if I ever had any. Well, the only thing I could think of was that time with my cousin when I was younger. Only I lied a little and told her that I got to feel my cousin up a bit… that kind of stuff.
'Marge smiled and threw her head back in her amusement, and those giant tits popped out, liking to break right out of the material. She told me that it was obvious that I had a lot of learning to do. I was pretty shy in those days, so I guess I must've blushed a little or something. Well, before I could tell what was happening, she reached over and hugged me up close to those big tits. I had expected them to be sort of hard, but they were nice and soft and springy. I get kind of confused about what happened next-I got too caught up with feeling those big jugs up against my face, but I know that she started coming on to me about how she could show me lots more than I
