YPA: Your Privacy Assured

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Text File | 1994-06-04 | 34KB | 498 lines

Chapter 3 Bert talked with Cruncher for a few minutes after school, then left his friend to speak to Alana when he spied the sexy black girl coming out of the building. Alana spoke first, "Well, if it isn't the honkey stud with the orange popsicle. How are you, Bert?" Bert smiled. Only week ago, if anyone had said something like that to him, he would have been mortified, humiliated, and tongue tied. No longer. "Still hot and hard for black ass. But what I wanted to know was the schedule on the paper. Did we get everything in on time...to the printer?" Alana sighed, her shapely shoulders sagging the most minute fraction in dissappointment under her yellow crushed velvet jacket. "I was hoping you wanted to know something else...in the Biblical sense." Bert flashed a toothy smile, and Alana continued, "To answer the question, everything got to the printer before the deadline. The edition should be out tomorrow with your photo layout in it." Bert casually leaned against the building, then said, "Photo layouts are fun to do. Maybe we can get together for a lay...out sometime soon." "Love it!" the black editor exclaimed. "But I've got to run now. I'll talk with you later about that...special assignment." "My editor's wish is my command!" Alana brushed Bert's arm with hers and a black hand lightly touched his crotch as she passed him on the steps. In a flash she was gone, leaving only a warm feeling in Bert's loins. That feeling began to grow exponentially, and soon Bert felt as if he'd blow his cool in public simply from the fantasies he was building in his brain. He decided that his hard-on was too good to waste. He'd go to Carole's and see what could be done about relieving the insistent bodily urges that were becoming more and more important to him. Bert sauntered to the van der Hoff household, taking his time and deeply breathing in the fresh, crisp autumn air. Thoughts of photographic compositions raced through his mind; the thoughts were not on photographing scenic outlooks or falling leaves. Not unless the scenic outlooks or the pile of leaves had a naked and completely willing blond Carole van der Hoff spreading her legs in wanton invitation to his throbbing cock. As he approached th house, Bert saw Carole racing out to get into the snazzy sportscar driven by Tony diMaria. Bert wasn't very good with cars or in identifying them, but he thought the school's student body president was driving an Italian car, possible an Alfa. Whatever it was, the car was red and small and flashy, just the type of thing the lovely blonde who inhabited Bert's wet dreams would really groove on. Bert's imprisoned cylinder of lust pressed firmly against his trousers. It was lucky for the boy that the zipper release was on the outside. His neddful, lusting cock might have been able to slide the zipper down and free itself if the means had existed. The young photgrapher considered the dilemma. It would do not good to see Carole. She had just left with her current paramour. But Robin van der Hoff was something else. Was she ever something else! Carole didn't want anything to do with him - for the moment - and he desperately needed a tight sheath of warm female flesh around his hard, edacious organ. Robin had been more than willing once, she could supply the source of his gratification again. And this time, he would be the one to take the initiative. The Alfa roared along the street, the top down. Bert watched Carole's long, flowing locks flutter in the breeze, a golden pennant and tribute to her femininity. He sighed, then turned his attentions toward the front door of the house. A moment hesitation struck him, then he plunged ahead. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead! And would he ever torpedo Robin's ship in its snug harbor this time! Bert rang the doorbell and waited. When no one came to answer he rang again and, simultaneously, Robin answered. She looked moemtarily surprised to see him but covered it well. "Hello, Bert. What can I do for you?" The youth with a raging hard-on had to bite his tongue to keep from answering that like he wanted. He decided to play it cool. "I came to see if Carole was around. Could I speak with her?" A look of relief crossed Robin's fine features. "I'm sorry, Bert, but she's gone out, and I don't know when she will be back. Possibly not for several hours." Bert glided in past the woman as he was saying, "That's all right. I'll wait." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "I'm sure we can think of something to do while I'm waiting." Robin was startled as Bert walked into the living room, and seated himself. Her hands shook slightly, and the young photographer noted that she was not the completely austere, haughty woman she pretended to be. He had somehow managed to breech her barriers of reserve. He was planning on breeching other, more delightful barriers before he left the house. "Uh, look, Bert, I think I'd better have a talk with you about this." "Certainly, Robin, dearest. Come sit here beside me." He patted the spot next to him on the loveseat. Robin was growing more and more uncomfortable. Bert inwardly relished the feeling of power he was wielding over the woman. For so long, he felt as she must be feeling now. Uncertainly, hesitant, even a little fearful. "Bert," she started to say, going to a chair on the far side of the room. "Robin." His voice was flat, commanding. "Sit here." Again he indicated the cushioned seat next to him. Robin swallowed, then came and sat next to Bert. Her body shook slightly and, from Bert's point of view, delightfully. The patterned blouse housing her twin peaks of wonderous, snowy white titflesh could not conceal the sensous swaying. Her chest heaved in reaction to the sudden stab of fear that she had lost control of the boy she had made into a man. Bert's eyes burned with feverish intensity. And it was the unmistakable fire of unquenchable desire that flared. "Bert, that time...it...it wasn't what you think. My husband is gone so much of the time and I get...I get..." Robin seemed at a loss for words. Bert had no trouble supplying them for her. "Horny? You get horny, isn't that it?" His brown eyes worked upwards from the dual mounds that were her sheathed breasts until he locked his eyes on her radioactive cobalt-blue ones. Robin's hair had become a trifle disarrayed, and a strand of the fine golden hair fell across her forehead and partially hindered her view. Bert reached out and gently moved the wayward strand of silky hair back into its proper place. Robin flinched involuntarily. She had no desire to continue the one time fling she's had with the boy. "Please try to understand me, Bert. Please," she begged. "You're a nice boy, but you're just a boy. You're young enough to be my son for God's sake!" "Does that really matter, Robin? I'm not too good at remembering things, but I saw this in my World Lit. book the other day, 'Age is a tyrant who forbids at the penalty of life, all the pleasures of youth'. Doesn't that seem appro- priate to you?" Robin shivered slightly and mumbled, "La Rouchefoucauld also said 'Few people know how to be old.' I think I should try to act my age." "Bert's eyes continued to roam over her slim, girlish figure. The slender legs, encased in smoky nylon, protruded from under the tight black shirt Robin wore. His eyes caressed the smooth flow of her hips, the trim, round ass, the delicate, almost fragile waist. But he kept returning to the high hemline and tracing down the length of her legs. Glorious, wonderous legs excited him immensely. Calves displaying muscle, yet not bulky or knotted muscle. Smooth, sleek, and heartstoppingly long limbs. Bert loved the subtle fragrance of Robin's perfume; it drew him as a pollen flower attracts the honey bee. He did not reply to her protests. Instead, he slipped his hand behind her golden crowned head and prevented her from escaping as he brought his lips to hers. In spite of what Robin had said, she wanted him. She wanted him badly to relieve her own sexual tensions. The woman didn't want to have an affair with a boy, but she saw it was useless to protest. He was determined and, in a perverse way, she was glad. Robin could let Bert take some of the initiative and, in some fashion she could not easily determine, the boy was vastly more than he had been. No longer scared or unsure, he appealed to her on the most elemental sexual level possible. Robin wanted Bert's long, hardened prick shoved between her legs and up her cunt. She wanted the satisfaction a woman received only when a man fucked her. The coral tip of her tongue raced around her lips a split second before Bert's melted against hers. It was a silent invitation. A tacit acknowledgement that she was saying one thing while her body, her very core of being, screamed out another. Bert's kiss was not very adroit. He had much to learn about properly kissing a woman. But Robin was just the person to show him. As she warmed to the feel of his lips against hers, the woman began to return the kiss with ferver and ill-suppressed desire. The youthful photographer felt the difference instantly. He hadn't missed the tiny circuit of the lips Robin made before he kissed her. Bert certainly couldn't miss the feel of her mouth opening slightly, the increased pressure and the probing tongue delving into his mouth. Although the youth had been the one who started the session, it was ob- viously turning into another educational experience for Bert Ellis. He'd always wanted to get sex education out of the class room and back onto the playground where it belonged! He continued holding Robin's head firmly pressed toward him as she teased his tongue with her own dextrous oral digit. The taste of her saliva was sweet, succulent and indescribably delicious. The delicate, feather light touches of her tongue against his seemed to ignite passions in Bert's body that were barely controllable. Bert felt himself growing harder, the head of his cock spreading like the hood of a cobra preparing to strike. And, like a snake, he felt the sinuous wiggling back and forth as his excitement grew. Robin reached down and pressed against the lump in her sex partner's trousers. He would have gasped except that the woman's tongue had completely entrapped his; he could say nothing, only breathe harder and faster as she constricted her hand and grabbed onto his balls. The teenager pulled her head back, breaking the mouth to mouth tutoring with some reluctance. Bert managed to mumble, "Free it...my cock feels like its going to burst open!" A tiny smile danced on Robin's lips. "It will, Bert, it will. I promise." The rythmic squeezing of his crotch excited Robin as much as it did the possessor of those proud, churning balls and quivering dick. Robin descended again onto Bert's mouth, forcing his lips apart with her darting, agile tongue. Inside his mouth once more, she began to explore, an expert at spelunking in men's oral caverns. This one was a real treat because Robin knew she might be the first to ever explore the depths. The woman wasn't certain but, for all of Bert's newfound confidence and take-commands airs, she guessed that he had not been on many dates and that girls were still a wonderful mystery, if not a little bit frightening. If Robin could have read Bert's confused mind, her hunch would have been confirmed. Bert was thinking that this had to be Heaven, he must be dead and gone to his reward. Kissing Robin was nothing like kissing Alana or Patty, his first heartthrob in junior high. This was something greater, a higher class, a quantum jump in excellence and arousability. The kiss was electric, dynamite, but it was nothing to the sprouting manhood building into a towering spire at his groin. His cock was unbearably bloated with desire to be buried again in Robin's clutching, tight, hot cunt. He wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of her love tunnel around his length grasping at his rod like she had done before. But Robin had other plans. The woman wanted to initiate Bert into as many of the intriacies and delights of sex as she could; she felt like a schoolgirl again, leading a stumbling student along the path to satiation. Her hand stopped gripping at Bert's jeans. Thumb and forefinger carefully reached out and took the zipper in a firm hold. Slowly, with a teasing, torturous slowness, she dragged the piece of metal down its track. Bert's eyes were glued on the spectacle. The slender fingers tipped with fuschia-tinted nails opened the front of his trousers. He began to feel even more excited just thinking of what was to come...him! Those agile, groping fingers dived inside the opening that had been created and fumbled until his fleshy rod pulsed against them. Again between thumb and index finger, Robin grasped the sweaty, shaking tool and pulled it out into the cool air of the living room. The sight of the purpled head quaking in lust - for her! - caused her crotch to begin to water. Robin could barely restrain herself from ripping off her clothing and cramming that turgid tool far up inside her and reveling in the feel of a pulsing cock beating out an erotic tempo in her cunt. Bert's hands, even shaking as they were, managed to free the buttons running down the front of Robin's blouse. The garment hung open, and he saw for the first time the black, lacy bra that did little to hide her tits but supported the twin demiglobes of flesh nicely. His hand strayed and gent- ly plied the smooth, warm expanse of her flesh, wanting to completely free those enticing mountains of tit from their lacy encumberance. Jugs were meant to be felt, handled, fondled, sucked, not trapped in some conical contrivance originally manufactured by a demented Frenchman. Bert managed to insinuate his clumsy hand behind Robin as he searched for the eyes and hooks of her bra strap. His inexperience with such things betrayed him. Or it might have been his inability to concentrate as Robin began stroking his cock from its hairy base to the sensitive, twitching crown. her initial stokes were soft, gentle and barely perceptible. As the woman squeezed down, gripping Bert's length harder, the sensations smashing through his body increased tenfold, a hundred-fold. Lances of pure, undiluted joy seared his nerves like acid. But it was pleasurable torture Carole's mother was meting out to him. He could have rocked back on the loveseat and allowed her to do nothing more than give him a handjob. Through his lust numbed brain came other messages, the maturing voice of sexuality from a higher plane. Bert continued to strain and eventually managed to free the diabolical fasteners of Robin's black, frilly bra. As if spring loaded, the bra snapped around her, hanging only by the twin straps over her shoulders. A little bit of maneuvering on both their parts and Bert soon had gotten the woman out of both her blouse and brassiere. The sight of Robin naked to the waist sent a jab of excitement through Bert's psyche that caused him momentarily to lose the sexual control he was learning. The two jugs bouncing and bobbing, tracing out invisible figure eights in the air with the ruddy nipples were almost too much for him to bear without ejaculating. The woman's breasts were tributes to her femininity. The first time he had seen them, his mind had been dulled and blurred with the shock of what had been happening to him. This time, although extremely excited and desirous of fucking this woman until she was cross-eyed, Bert retained some small vestige of objectivity. The teenager studied the expanse of skin revealed to him. And it was marvelous. The slight sag in Robin's tits was the only indication that she was nearly forty years old. She kept herself in superb physical shape. The idle thought drifted through Bert's mind that fucking a couple times a day might do it, keep that mysterious glow that seemed to flush a woman's complexion after a really good fuck. The tits weren't monstrous, and for that Bert was glad. He had decided that huge, tremendously floppy tits weren't for him. If he had looked at the small tag on Robin's discarded bra, he would have found the notation '36C'. She had moderate size tits, boobs large enough to pop into a mouth watering for woman-flesh, but not grotesquely large. Any- thing more than a mouthful - or handful - was a waste of good material. As Robin stroked with increasing urgency along Bert's tumescent lust staff he dropped to suckle at one of the inviting nipples presented to him. The fiery red nubbin of flesh pointed at him, seemed to accuse of dereliction of duty. The youth did not want to be guilty of failing to respond where he was desperately needed. His lips touched the slightly bumby plain around the erectile tissue, and then he compressed his lips until he managed to trap only the nipple between them. Bert's tongue flashed forward, racing full force into the tiny mound of pulsating flesh. Robin quivered, and he felt her breath quicken. His rough, wet tongue laved the surface of the nipple repeatedly, each stroke bringing forth an even more emphatic reaction from Robin. At one point, Bert almost had to desert Robin's fantastic breast and scream out his own passion. Her slender fingers had brutally clamped down on his cock as if trying to milk him of his come. It had been a reaction to the lust pounding through her body, and involuntary sudden action. "Oh Bert, Bert... that's sooo niiice!" Robin moaned as the teenager mouth her nipple anew. His tongue began to spiral around the nipple and engulf the aureole. Bert decided that he liked the taste so much he would continue until he had the entire tit firmly en- sconced in his oral cavity. His twisting and licking motion took him around the conical mountain of flesh and down the snowy slopes. As more and more of Robin's breast entered his mouth, Bert found it increasingly hard to use his ton- gue anywhere except across the nipple. Robin didn't mind. Hard manmeat in one hand and wet, superbly gratifying mouth around a tit, she didn't mind at all! She felt his teeth bite into the sides of her breasts as the boy's jaws streched to take in more and more of her tit. The woman thrust her chest forward inviting him to take all he could. It was a carnal Garden of Eden for her. The sensations spearing into her chest set off a delayed reaction depth charge inside her and caused her cunt to itch and beg for occupancy. Male occupants. Long, hard, throbbing, pow- erfully stroking male inhabitants. But she remembered her vow to introduce Bert to more specialized erotic techniques. Some oral sex satisfying her own needs. "Bert," she cooed, "Bert, darling, let me go for a second." His ears were benumbed with longing, but the youth did as she bid. Robin still had him under her spell, she could still dictate to him. Not that he minded. She was the best teacher he'd ever had! And he enjoyed the homework more than he had ever thought possible. Robin's question mouth dropped to Bert's crotch. Using her hand, she guided the purple hooded shaft protruding proudly from the boy's groin into her mouth. She did not take the entire length at first. Robin only lightly touched the sensitive glans with her tongue, making small circuits around the periphery of his organ. She tasted the slight secretion from the youth's seldom tried penis. Man musk assailed her mostrils and excited her immensely. Robin licked out with frowning fervor at the trapped morsel nuz- zling against her lips. She attempted to poke her tongue into the tiny pinprick hole at the end of the rod and failed. But it didn't matter because the act caused Bert to squirm and thrash with mounting ardor. When the woman's tongue stroked and lightly caressed the underside of his cock, Bert nearly lost his mind. Jolts of lightning blazed through his head, shock waves of carnal intensity assaulted the fortress of his brain and shook him to the very foundations of his being. His body heaved, and again he had to restrain himself from coming. Sensing how near orgasm the boy was, Robin halted her o- ral ministrations for a moment, electing to only stoke and feel the jerking rod. As his passions abated slightly, her mouth engulfed his shaft, and the woman began to take his entire length into her awaiting oral cavity. As the youth had done with her tit, Robin now returned the favor on his pole. Her dextrous organ of taste rotated around and around licking and savoring every tiny portion of cock. The taste was wonderful and one of which Robin was in- cabable of getting enough. She loved fucking. She loved sucking. And being the one to introduce the teenager to the mysterious and fantastic wonderland of sexual activity excited her beyond mere words. The shaft slid smoothly into her wet, salivating mouth. She bit down, slightly, gently, so as not to harm the flesh under her teeth. As Robin carefully gnawed on the resilient, blood-surfeited flesh of Bert's cock, the youth broke out into a profuse sweat. He gripped the cushion on the love- seat with ferocious intensity, his fingers biting deeply into the soft fabric and stuffing material. He was lost in a fairyland of bewildering reactions. Bert wasn't sure he could sort out all the simultaneous sensations impinging on his body and brain. He was furiously perspiring, but that was the result of his arousal. And his sexual arousal was caused by...what? Was it the sight of Robin's naked tits and gently bounc- ing body? The way her nipples rubbed against his legs? Was it his mouthing of those scrumptious tits that had started it all? Or was it her expert mouth gulping and erotically tormenting his manhood? Or was it all of those things plus his own fantasies come true? Bert couldn't have cared less. He slid back and allowed Robin to do what she wanted with his body. Robin sensed the youth's burgeoning passion by the feel of his cock. It now jerked and quivered with an accelerated pulse rate. It expanded and grew in girth and length as more and more blood pumped into it, making the cock a true man's sword fit for sheathing in any woman's scabbard. But the fellatrix was going to deny this succulent hunk of meat that privilege...this time. Even though the zipper was an encumberance, both were too far gone down the road of love ferver to bother with the metal contrivance. Robin's nose burrowed and snuggled into the tangled mat of Bert's pubic hair as she swallowed his seven inches. Holding it in her mouth, she raised her head slightly, pressing the underside of his cock down hard against her tongue, then retreated reluctantly. As Bert's tender flesh was drawn across the slick, moist tongue, explosions wracked his body. The de- liberate torture bent his stiff rod the slightest bit and added to his arousal in a magnitude he had not thought possible from his already hot body. Robin felt the teenager's prick slip across the roof of her mouth. And a palatable dick it was, too. Tasty, a true gormet's treat. She didn't know why her daughter didn't want to partake of a feast like this, but Robin couldn't care. Let Carole play her cock tease games. And Carole's mother would have all the fun - and cocks. Her teeth slid to the backside of the expanded hood on the end of the teenagers's love piston. Robin locked down the tiniest amount, then pulled back, her teeth lightly scoring the delicate flesh. Bert writhed and moaned in the mindless throes of passion. But Robin admitted he was doing an admirable job in controlling himself. If she had known that Bert was doing it for a greedy reason, it would not have mattered. He knew the sucking and kissing and licking along his cock was really turning Carole's mother on in a big way, but it was for his own satisfaction that he kept from jetting his load. The youth wanted this to last forever. He did not want her eager, hungry mouth to ever leave his cock. The prickly sensation that creeped down his cock and into his balls warmed his body and stirred emotions he had been unaware of possessing. The first time he had been scared, awed. With Alana, they had both been a bit too eager for proper foreplay, for ade- quate arousal. This time, the first time anyone had sucked him off, was going to be different. He was going to explore the sensations in the greatest depth possible. The wetness of his cock as Robin traveled his length was but one portion of the entire collage of feelings. The teenager ran his fingers through the lustrous strands of her platinum hair. Bert caressed and toyed with her shell-like ears, guided her head in the motion up and down his stalk. And, the musky scent that so aroused him had to be emanating from Robin. The boy's fingers couldn't search for her crotch and find out for certain, but if they could have, he would have found a veritable rain forest of tangled pubic hair totally drenched in cunt juice. Robin was gushing her internal lubricants out with torrential force. The gale winds of sex blowing inside her hurled the liquids out to dampen her nylon tricot bikini briefs and made her wish she had on a pair of crotchless panties. But then her lust-juices would have dribbled down her leg. It didn't really matter, however. Bert knew she was hot. And Robin knew Bert was straining to control his body. She en- joyed playing with him, wished she could reach the hairy little compacted sac containing his balls. A tweak or two there would have brought the rushing flood of his come to sear and whitewash her throat. As it was, Bert didn't need any expert fingering of his scrotum. The rubbing of his balls across his rough jeans was doing an adequate job of stimulation. He felt the juices inside him began to boil and churn, his rocks rumbling in the stewpot of his groin. The safety valve on his pressure cooker was being breeched against his will; Robin's educated mouth had taught him still another lesson of the flesh. Robin's cheeks went concave with the suction she applied to his tube of joy, and he hunched his hips up thrusting his length back into her mouth. Robin backed slightly away, forcing Bert's cock to withdraw against the intense vacuum in her mouth. As if some Pied Piper had begun playing on his organ pipe, the semen and sperm that had been banging away at Bert's restraints erupted with seething, demoniac fury. His come soared into the eagerly awaiting mouth of the woman crouched in front of him. Robin swallowed the first spurt of come easily, the second almost drowned her it came so quickly after the first onslaught. The third and fourth filled her mouth and caused a trickle of the viscous white jism to run down her chin. Bert's body was gripped in the velvet and iron of orgasm, and he wandered through the funland of his body's intense reactions for what seemed too short a time. He drifted back down from his sexual high to the reality of the room, the woman in front of him, his come whitely shining on her face. Bert watched in fascination as Robin's tongue slithered out and expertly captured the runaway jism of his lust. The wet pink digit hooked around the gooey strand and herded it back into her mouth where she seemed to sample it like a wine connoisseur tasting a fine vintage wine. A contented smile was on her lips, her eyelids were half closed as she laid her down in Bert's lap. The teenager gently stroked her hair, smoothing it where he had been lacing his fingers through the golden forest and disarraying the strands. "Bert," Robin said, her voice low and husky, "I really shouldn't have done that. I don't want to make love to you on a regular basis and yet..." her voice choaked slightly. "And yet I'm weak. My body overcomes me, and I can't control myself. I know you would rather be doing this with Carole than an old woman, but I just can't help myself." Bert smiled a trifle. "You're not an old woman. You don't look it, and you certainly don't make love like it. I can't even say I'd be coming back here if it wasn't for you. Sure, I want Carole to go out with me, but is she half the expert at lovemaking that you are?" Robin gave a tiny snort. "Hardly, I don't understand her. But that's not what I was intending to say to you, Bert." She lifted her head and gazed into his chocolate eyes. "I really shouldn't lust after you, yet I do. I can't control myself. If you could, it would be best for both of us." Bert's vision was firm and never wavered form those blue orbs pleading with him. "I'm learning to control myself." The answer he gave wasn't quite the exhortation Robin had just voiced. But she didn't seem to notice the double meaning. Robin put her head back down into his lap, Bert's cock deflating under her cheek as his sexual need for this ravishingly beautiful woman rested - for the moment, he was content.