Seymour Leggs - Tease Them With Ease

"Isn't it beautiful," said the lady.

"I don't know what to say… "

"Well, first let me tell you what happened. It seems someone took this photograph when you saved the girl's life. I talked with the photographer yesterday – you see he called the news with the lead on the story. Then I talked with Mrs. Thompson, the girl's mother. What I want to do now is talk with you before I write the story and we run the picture."

"You mean it's going to be in the papers?"

"Only if you consent."

Her look imparted the complete responsibility to him. Neil felt flattered, impressed with himself. "But… I didn't do anything that good. All I did was jump in and pull her out."

"That's not the question… the question is, do we have your permission to run the photograph?"

"Uh… well, sure, why not."

She smiled. "Good. Now, you leave the question as to whether or not what you did was important up to us, okay?"

"Okay." The woman had a strong way about her, Neil noticed. She was like one of his teachers, strict but not hard. She handled herself in a way that let you know she was all business, and he admired that.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Seventeen."

"I know where you go to school and that you're on the swim-team. Also how long you've worked here and that you're a responsible young man. As a matter of fact, all I really needed was your permission to run the photograph. Everyone else I talked to filled me in on your history with glowing detail."

"Oh?"

"Yes, you are an admired, respected young man. I've talked with your teachers and with several of the people living here. They all like you.

Neil blushed. It was another one of those crimson spectrum-stretchers that left his face somewhere between violet and beyond. As a matter of fact, the blush was so red, so visible, that Gloria Tyson also blushed.

After a pause in which Neil noticed she was staring at his thighs she said, "What I want to know is why you did it."

"Why? Because she would have drowned."

"Yes, but why did you risk your life? Why did you think of the girl first and not yourself?" she asked.

"Huh? I wasn't risking anything. I just had to jump in the pool and grab her, that's all. I can swim, I jump in the pool all the time. There wasn't any risk"

She settled back on the sofa and smiled. It was a mellow, admiring smile. "Neil, we live in an age of indifference. Last month a lady was beaten and robbed in broad daylight on a street in downtown Los Angeles. There must have been a hundred people who saw it. Not one of them did a thing to help her."

"But that's different," Neil protested.

"Okay. Last week a little girl about the same age as Tina somehow got onto the Ventura Freeway. Do you think anyone stopped and kept her from wandering into the traffic? Would that have been taking a risk? Would that have been so tough? No. But thousands of cars sped by and ignored her. Why? Because the people in those cars were to busy worrying about being on time, getting home, or getting to some big sale. That girl was on the freeway for more than half an hour before a patrol car spotted her. Thank God she wasn't hit."

Gloria's tirade was accented by sweeps of her hands and an intense seriousness. Neil was silent, he couldn't argue with someone who felt so deeply about such things. Maybe she was right.

Her hand rested on his bare thigh to give her next statement an added impact. "But you weren't indifferent. You didn't even hesitate. You jumped right in to save the little girl like it was the only thing to do. Neil, you performed' a heroic act."

"I don't know…" he mumbled.

Her hand didn't move. "I mean It, Neil. You are one in a million. A real man."

His blush came back. Half from her flattery, half from the closeness of her hand to his most sensitive crotch. His cock was responding with a lift of hope, a bid for recognition. As he blushed her hand made a slight, soft move closer to his anxious cock. It was as if she didn't do it, but he felt it, and so did his cock.

Like a spring-loaded pole his cock strained upward against the thin material of his swimsuit. And she noticed. Before Neil knew what was happening he felt the full pressure of her palm against his cock head, felt it rolling against his hot flesh, encouraging his erection, working it up to higher and higher proportions.

With her free hand she picked up the photograph and looked quickly at it. So did Neil. That's when he noticed what had her attention. In the picture his swimsuit was wet, he had just climbed from the pool, the thin fabric was washed back tight against his cock to provide the viewer with a perfectly clear outline of his long, at the time throbbing, pecker. Even his flared cock head was visible. Neil gulped but the photo was swiftly put into the briefcase and shoved aside.

Gloria's hand was now kneading his stiff rod with eager, anxious strokes. She grinned and said, "Oh, that feels real good, it feels real nice.

The businesslike aura of Gloria was gone. She had changed her personality. Now she hungrily worked her hand up and down the straining spike and stared with greedy anticipation at the tremendous pole of muscle pressing against the trunks. She turned on her side and leaned into Neil.

Her breasts pushed into his shoulder, he could feel the soft fullness even through her suit jacket. He saw the hem of her trim skirt slide far up her thighs as she brought her legs up and knelt on the sofa next to him. Her hand didn't leave the warm heat of his iron-hard cock for one second.

"Are we safe here?" she asked as her free hand fumbled at the buttons of her blouse.

"I guess so," said Neil. He didn't fully realize what she meant.

"Will anybody come in?"

"Oh no, probably not. No one ever uses the lanai." She shook her head as the blouse came loose and said, "Oh, I don't care if the president walks in, I can't stop now! I have to have it!"

Neil saw the white cups and elastic of her bra straining to hold in large mounds of tender, trembling breast. In contrast to Helen, Gloria had no suntan lines. She wasn't the outdoor type, more the studious, intellectual type, Neil figured. But as different as they were there was one great similarity – the eagerness into which they went after his cock.

"Hurry, Neil, take off your trunks," she said as she stood and reached under her skirt to tug her underpants down.

As she stepped from the satin briefs Neil stood. His stiff rod strained hard against the suit and he had only managed to undo the drawstrings before her impatience became unbearable. She pushed his fumbling fingers aside and pulled hard on the suit. His large rod bent and buckled as the trunks went down his thighs, but as soon as the suit cleared his crotch the taut, rubbery cock sprang out and up with a youthful bound.

"Oh. God. Oh, my Cod," hissed Gloria as she viewed the swaying, slightly arched pillar of stiff flesh. "The picture doesn't even do you justice."

Neil just stood there as Gloria reached down and lifted the hem of her skirt up to her waist. He saw the smooth lines of her petite legs and a terrifically large patch of curling black crotch hair. She sat sideways on the couch and straddled her legs wide apart.

As Neil walked to the end of the couch and decided just how to go about attacking her fuzzy box, she squished her breasts up in her bra until they popped over the brim. Her bright red nipples were like two pulpy dots staring at him. Neil looked between her wide-spread legs, followed the contours of her inner thighs up to the crimson slit sitting above the flattened buns of her ripe backside.

"Come on, Neil. I know you're a man of unhesitating action. Show me how much of a hero you are, she urged.

Neil went to his knees on the sofa between her welcoming legs. But first he wanted to touch her cunt, to feel it, caress the wondrous hole. His fingers moved into the slick wetness of her pussy lips and she gasped. He pushed them to each side until the slick inner tissues showed and a slow drool of thick liquid poured out.