Janet McCoy - The lady_s naughty urge

"You nasty bitch!" Billy grunted, as if he had heard Richie's thoughts, and he thrust his cock hard and deep into the kneeling girl's mouth. He repeated the motion again and again. The boy seemed no longer able to hold himself back. He had to express the throbbing passion that was welling inside him. He reached for Ellen's blonde head and pushed it cruelly down onto his cock. She did not seem to mind. She only moaned and yielded to the harsher pace he was establishing for her. By the way her ass was wriggling, Richie thought she must like being forced to suck harder and faster. She liked being a love-slave to a heedless pounding cock.

While Billy expended his lustful energy in supervising the girl's sucking rhythm, Richie stroked his cock to the same harsh beat. The younger boy was scarcely aware anymore of what he was doing. He was intensely excited. He had the scene he was watching all mixed up in his mind with his fantasies of making Mrs. Carter suck his cock. Though it was his own hand that was finding just the right tempo, just the right technique to bring pleasure to his cock, in his fantasy it was Mrs. Carter's wet and willing mouth. His cock was getting harder and more aroused. It was not going to be much longer before he had to blow his hot thick wad of cum deep into Mrs. Carter's throat!

His fantasy could not withstand the blast of Billy's ecstatic wail. "God, Ellen baby! Suck harder! Harder!" His hand forced her head down cruelly. Richie saw this eyes open very wide then shut tight. "Shit, I'm cumming. Ellen! Suck it, baby suck it!"

Richie was intensely aware now that it was his friend Billy who was shooting his sperm into a woman's mouth. He watched Ellen's blonde head bobbing tirelessly as she made sure she had not missed a drop of his hot nut.

Richie felt a wave of relief engulf him. He felt good. Really good. But his thoughts were not on his present pleasure. He was already planning for the moment when he too could cum in a woman's mouth. He was determined not to leave the island as innocent as he had arrived. No matter what his mother said, Richie could not wait until he was grown-up for the good things in life. If Billy could get his cock sucked, so could he.

Richie found it was not so easy to get his courage up to visit Mrs. Carter when he was not high on sexual stimulus. It was another day and a half before he finally got himself to go to her house. And then, it was only on the pretext that he was looking for some kind of summer employment. After all, he had never met Mrs. Carter, though he had watched her fingerfuck herself to orgasm. He had to have some reason for going over to her place and introducing himself!

Joan had still not quite gotten over the shock of her first day on the island. She could scarcely believe that all in the course of one day she had watched two teens screwing in her house, she had jacked off wildly as she fed off her memories, and she had let herself be screwed ruthlessly by a man she had only met that morning!

Though even Joan herself knew it did not make much sense, she found it easy to blame Ben Firth for her sudden total surrender to lust. At least, if he had not come by that evening, she would never have gone so far as letting herself be screwed by a near stranger. If he had not taken advantage of her drunkenness and her confusion, she would not have had to wake up for the past couple of days feeling lousy about herself.

So, as it turned out, when Ben Firth came by to 'pay his respects', Joan had no trouble firmly turning him away at her door. When she was sober, Joan knew she had a cool presence that intimidated people. Ben Firth could find no way through her hard shell. He had left quietly. Joan hoped she would not have to see him for the rest of the summer. She did not want to see anybody for a while. Not until she got her head straight.

She was ready to be cool and unfriendly to whomever it was ringing her doorbell on that Thursday afternoon. But the shy grin of the brown-haired boy disarmed her. He looked so innocent and nice. She could not be cruel enough not to smile back at him. "Hello. What can I do for you?"

If it had not been for the fact that she was a beautiful woman, Richie would have had no trouble answering her. But he could only stare stupidly at her for some moments before he found his voice. And then he stammered. "I… I'm Richie Benson, Mrs. Carter. I heard you moved in here… and, well… l… I was wondering if you might have any errands… or anything… you want done."

"Gee, Richie, I don't think so…" Some instinct made her stop before she turned the boy away. He looked so utterly nice, and Joan found she was more eager for company than she had realized. She had never lived with so much silence. "It's hot out there, Richie. Why don't you at least come in for some lemonade and we'll talk about it."

The boy was disappointed that she drank lemonade too. He had been hoping that she might want to use his presence as an excuse to have some wine or something. Loosened up, she might be easier prey for his lusty intentions, the way she had been for her own fingers the other night.

"I know what, Richie. I've been wanting to rearrange the kitchen cupboards. It's very inconvenient the way the dishes are set up. With you to help me, the work could go twice as fast. How does five dollars an hour sound?"

"Great." She could have said ten cents and it still would have been fine with Richie. Just sitting on the same couch with her and smelling her perfume was enough to make him feel his visit hadn't been a fruitless one.

"Okay. Well, how about now?" she asked as the boy walked ahead of her into the kitchen. She noticed that he was very strong, long and lean in a way that her ex had been. It made him look taller than he really was. Like her ex-husband Fred had been when they had first became lovers.

She didn't let herself try to define the kind of pleasure she got from the boy's presence. He was quiet, not brash and outspoken like the other boy, Billy, had been. His silence gave him a certain mystery. His attentive eyes told Joan he admired her, and that pleased her. It was good still to be admired by a boy whose age she had lived almost twice over. His shy smile made her think of Fred in the times when he had first eagerly held her hand and offered to carry her books from school.

Richie was unaware that the fear that was making him tongue-tied was scoring him points with Mrs. Carter. He was afraid she must think him boring. He hadn't said two words since they came into the kitchen. He stood on the floor beneath her stool and set down the dishes she passed him. It was hard for him to keep his attention on the dull chore.

Mrs. Carter was wearing shorts and she had very shapely long legs. The first hint of the swell of her ass was just visible beneath the hem of her shorts. Every time he looked at her, Richie felt his cock throb. He was terrified she might, look down at him and discover he had a hard-on. He was afraid she might throw him out if she knew.

It was hard now for the boy to visualize how she had looked with her hair disheveled and her fingers buried up in her pussy. If he had not seen with his own eyes, he would never believe it was the same person. Even when he tried to imagine her with her shorts off, Richie still stood in awe of Mrs. Carter.

He handed her the duster she asked for and watched her clean the shelves.

"There, that's better. Now I can store my staples up here and put the dishes where I can reach them without dragging out a footstool. That makes more sense, don't you think?"

Richie knew nothing of such matters, but he agreed, to be polite.

He watched her well-rounded ass make its way back down the steps of the stool. She knelt beside him and opened the cupboard next to the sink. It was only when she turned to ask him to hand her the pots and pans that she noticed the pronounced bulge in his pants. He knew that she noticed because her eyes grew big and her voice trailed off in mid-sentence. Richie was frightened at first, and then his cock began to pulse more insistently. Panicked as he was, still he realized there was no disapproval in the look she was giving him.