Frederick Laughton - Bookstore for boys

"Heck no!" Skip exclaimed. The surprised teenager gaped in confusion at the ravishingly beautiful blonde who sat beside him on the couch. Almost against his will, his eyes began to search over the inviting curves of her sensuous body, lingering on the full firm mounds of her breasts before descending to her smoothly tapering waist and flaring hips, her long beautiful legs outlined under the gently clinging material of her skirt. His breath seemed to have caught in his throat, and it was a moment before he could find the means to go on: "I didn't mean that you were old, only that you were a woman, and you must think of me as just a silly kid. That's all I meant."

Jennifer nodded and smiled. She was aware of the boy's eyes curiously exploring her figure, and also very uncomfortably aware of a little excited tremoring deep in her own belly. Skip was so innocent, so sweet, and she knew he had suffered so unjustly for that innocence. But at the same time he was eager. And for reasons even she couldn't understand, she felt now that it would be a thrill to touch him, to hold him, to show him how to kiss and caress a woman, to teach him what he wanted to know in a way it could never be learned in a book. But she knew it was wrong to even be thinking like that, and she sat up suddenly stiffly on the couch, vowing to keep a close grip on herself and to rid her mind immediately of such insane fantasies.

"Now I've made you mad," Skip groaned, misunderstanding Jennifer's sudden movement. He twisted toward her on the couch, his eyes blazing with sincerity. "I think you're fantastic. I do. And… and I know you wouldn't let me do it, but I wish I could kiss you and find out what Ramona Sawyer meant for me to do."

"Oh Skip, you little sweetheart," Jennifer cried. Then, almost before she knew what she was doing, the voluptuous blonde woman had turned sideways to face him on the couch, her arms wrapping eagerly around his slim frame, her fingers combing softly through his dark brown hair. He was so cute and so sweet, and she knew he needed her so badly. He needed her the way she longed to be needed by a male. He had as much as admitted that he'd never kissed a girl, and she could feel him quivering in her arms, his teenage body rigid with excitement.

Jennifer took a deep breath and leaned forward, placing her cheek against his, listening to the youngster's boyish breath whistling raggedly past her ear. For a moment she recalled another young boy, a boy she'd known so long ago, with whom she'd first discovered the happiness of sex and love. And then she thought of something else, a dimly lit room in a Los Angeles hotel, where she'd come upon three nakedly writhing bodies, where she'd found her husband performing cunnilingus on one young starlet while another one licked and sucked at his rigidly pulsing cock. Then suddenly her whole mood was shattered and she abruptly released Skip from her embrace and rose hurriedly from the couch. She was aware of the boy staring at her in confusion, and she fidgeted nervously before him. Then she sighed and sat down again, though now leaving a considerable space between them.

"I'm sorry, Skip," she said with a hyper little laugh. "I don't know what came over me. But I know that wasn't what you came here for today. Nor was it why I invited you."

She hesitated for a moment then suddenly reached for the book and began to read aloud the introduction to the chapter she'd chosen to explore, a rather technical piece of material describing the relation between stroking, as a baby or small child being stroked and caressed by its parents, and the first sexual stroking experiments conducted by adolescent and pre-adolescent aged children, which subsequently went on to relate these two phenomena to adult sexual foreplay.

The perplexed youngster listened to her read, but though the subject matter seemed to be at least partly connected to what he had on his mind, he couldn't concentrate. His thoughts were jumbled by what had just taken place. He was vaguely aware that something strange was happening between him and the beautiful woman who but moments ago had held him in her arms. It was something he'd never experienced before, completely different from being held by his mother or by his grandmother, and he could hardly fathom the feelings it inspired in him. His whole body was still tingling from the warm softness of having had her arms around him, from feeling her big warm breasts pressing firmly against his chest as she'd pulled him to her. It seemed like something he'd only dreamed, but he knew he was wide awake. The nearness of her softly curved female body, and the scent of her sweet musky perfume was like a drug playing tricks with his mind and body. He knew he'd been on the verge of having his question about how to kiss a girl answered in a way he'd never dreamed.

Jennifer read a few more lines, then her voice faded. Beside her on the couch Skip was staring intently down at her thighs, teasingly outlined in the loose clinging material of her skirt, and suddenly she realized what was happening. He was excited. She was exciting him, and the realization of that sent a galvanic surge of tingling little shocks prickling in her belly and a trembling chill running up her spine. Hardly able to control herself, she reached over and touched his arm to attract him to look her in the eye.

"Do you… do you understand what I'm reading about?" she gasped, desperately hoping that her own urgently rising excitement had now shown in her voice. She had not been alone with any male like this since she'd left Stephan, and young as he was, Skip was still a male. She was acutely aware of that fact. She could feel the nearness of his supple young body, and it was having a very strong effect on her. All the months of loneliness she'd endured had taken their toll on her, and she realized she was in a very vulnerable condition.

"Do you understand?" she repeated, her voice quivering.

"I… I guess so," Skip stammered.

Jennifer's mind was racing wildly, and she desperately tore her eyes away from the enchanting sight of the boy's excited face. She tried to seize control of her thoughts, to think about anything other than the forbidden images flitting through her mind. But the unexplainable nervousness and excitement now mounting inside her was more than she could control. She felt almost like a teenage girl out with a boy for the first time, and she didn't think she'd been this shaky since the night she'd lost her virginity.

God, what was she thinking of?

Horrified at her wanton thoughts, Jennifer rose from the couch and moved around to the other side of the coffee table. She still held the book tightly in her hands, but unconsciously, she'd closed it. Now, becoming aware of this, she began to search hurriedly through for the passage from which she'd been reading. Then she stopped, letting the covers fall together, and bent and replaced it on the low table. Why was she getting so nervous about nothing? she asked herself. After all, Skip was only a boy, somewhat frightened of girls and over-excitable as any young boy who'd never even been kissed would be. She was an adult woman, almost twenty-five. Maybe she should simply kiss him and let him get past that barrier. It was really an inconsequential thing, and certainly a little practical experience would make it easier for him to understand the technical passages in the book they were supposed to be studying together.

"Come here, Skip," she said suddenly, the strain in her voice even more pronounced, though she refused to let herself think consciously about the possible results of what she was about to do. "There… there's something I want to show you."

Jennifer watched through narrowed eyes as the young boy hesitantly rose and walked around the coffee table to stand before her. It was crazy, she knew. It was insane and irresponsible on her part, a tempting of the devil. But she felt a compulsion now to give this innocent teenager at least this much, a kiss, a single simple little kiss, and as he stood nervously before her, she lifted her hand to touch his boyish cheek with her fingertips. She watched his eyes open wide as she leaned closer to him and touched his lips with her own, pressing her mouth lightly and softly over his, lingering for a brief but exquisite moment.