Shy and a little sly, Peggy-Sue Graham had taught similar age but a slightly late developer Pete Pitt everything he knew about the subject dominant at the centre of his mind - sex.
The closest Pete had come to sex pre-Peggy-Sue had been the towel flicking fights he'd with the guys after coming out of the showers after football practice when the coaches were never there supervising. Now with his nineteenth birthday coming up Pete thought he should find out more about plumbing the depths of sex from someone far more experienced than Peggy-Sue.
Deciding that was easy for the good-looking sluggish thinker with cute curly blond hair: the problem that loomed uncomfortably was how to source and convince that prospective tutor Pete would be a worthy student and deliver something they wanted – money or whatever. Peter knew he'd conjured up a mind bender with that word 'whatever'. Huh? Lazily he decided he'd find out when she hinted or perhaps told him emphatically. The more immediate of his worries was what if his erection was of insufficient length for a prostitute or how to behave if she sucked his balls.
Prostitute?
Ah, that was a thought but surely an enthusiastic, knowledgeable amateur would mean less of a hit on his back pocket, er his billfold? Well, well – so an older woman, a sexy older woman who'd feel flattered to be aiming Pete's dick into more effective rutting as he entered adulthood.
Yeah! Pete almost dribbled in excitement.
Either of his parents whom he likened to flaky shadows unless the issue appealed to them would be hopeless as consultants. Anyway what did they know about artistry and brinkmanship in sexual behavior? He suspected their fixed position on sex was Missionary; no use asking them.
Compulsive knitter Grandma who adored spoiling him was a possibility but she'd shoot her mouth off to his mom who'd act wounded because he'd not consulted her before approaching far worldlier grandma. Oh, why was sex so complicated?
Complicated? He brushed a tickling and rarely combed curl away from his left eye and his mouth almost dribbled again as he recalled sweet Peggy-Sue's first lesson: "Aim it to slide in slowly here then push in deeply, pull almost right out...good, good...bang me hard...now pick up speed...now....AAAARRRRRRGH!"
Pete was doing the odd jobs for rich and very cool Mrs Marble who was married to "That Lazy Bum" as she called him; this was his fifth year of working under the watchful eye of Mrs Marble; her blue eyes that seemed to have become more watchful over the past year.
She'd sprawl on a deck chair on warm days, legs apart, slowly sucking a bottle of beer. But it was easy to see from body shape and her delicate arm movements – and the heaped on lipstick of course – that Mrs Marble was no weary male worker drinking straight from the bottle.
"What's the problem sweetie?"
He twitched and ignored her – she'd only just begun calling him 'sweetie' and 'big boy' in recent months. It was embarrassing.
Sweating slightly Pete placed another paving slab on the sandy foundation he'd leveled earlier; one slab to go.
"Pete baby, are you ignoring me?"
He sighed and muttered, "One slab to go Mrs Marble and I'm all yours."
"Ohmigod!"
Pete half-turned to find if she's spilt beer over those whoppers. He returned facing forward quickly, eyes almost gyrating, face flaming. He couldn't be quite sure as it had been only a glimpse but Mrs Marble appeared to have a hand stuck up under the hem of her dress.
He needed to get out of here but felt trapped: there were two exits and she was seated between Pete and both of them. He could climb the fence but that seemed a little excessive and undignified for someone in their late teens.
"Come here baby and tell mommy what's wrong."
Pete skulked toward her, not making blue on blue eye contact. He felt uneasy; she was talking to him as if he were twelve years' old.
"Sit on mommy's knee baby."
See, that confirms it; actually more like a five-year-old. "No."
She smiled and hit below the belt: "I could tell your real mommy what you and been Peggy-Sue have been doing?"
How the hell did she know? Pete felt like a trapped rat. Now he was standing beside her he could easily make a run for it now; he'd be through the gate before she could move to hold him. Hell, she was old – he'd attended her thirty-third birthday last April. But his brain killed that idea: his mom would kill him – or more likely disown him – if she learned about him and Peggy-Sue as both their moms were to the same church, Peggy-Sue's mom being a big shot within church admin. How the hell had Mrs Big Tits found out?
He sidled in closer and asked what she wanted to know.
Pete's casual employer wore too much make-up for his likening – he liked girls with skin like peaches, and her hair really wasn't blonde; Mrs Marble had scruffy brown hair when he'd first come to work for her but since then 'Lazy Bum' he won a couple of promotions so she had more money to spend on making herself look good. Although she wasn't really fat her stomach had a bulge in it and by the look of the under-dress space her boobs took up, one was as big if not bigger than both of Peggy-Sue's.
"Sit!" she commanded, so he sat on her thighs, attempting to balance without holding on to her.
She seemed to be breathing fast. "Okay, let's see what you've got."
Proudly flexed his arm, clenching fingers hard into his palm, Pete wondering if she'd feel as rather look at what he'd describe as 'the bulge of steel' of his upper arm muscle.
"You fool," she giggled and grabbed at his balls and half erect cock through his cargo shorts. "Oh my, no wonder Peggy-Sue hovers around you like a wasp around a honey pot."
Although alarmed Pete realized he should not object to her handling him; his ears began burning as he became aware 'King Dick' was growing in her hand.
"May mommy fetch it out?"
"Yes," he croaked, having no other answer.
Whereas Peggy-Sue took a full minute of fumbling to haul out her prize even when kneeling in front of him, this babe – er, Mrs Marble – had it out within ten seconds and she'd pushed him sideways and was licking it before he had time to regain his balance.
"Play with my tits," she mumbled, sucking him into her mouth.
"Tits?
She'd called them tits. Both his mom and Peggy-Sue had separately on more than one occasion bawled him out for using that word; both claimed women would die of shame at hearing their breasts called that unwholesome word. Pink-faced Mrs Marble looked very much alive to him.
Pete reached under her armpit and touched the wad of fat. The word he though of was 'unwholesome."
She spat out his cock momentarily and coaxed: "Darling, undress the top of me and ease one out and them and suck and bite the nipple."
"Suck and bite? Hell, Peggy-Sue scarcely allowed him to touch hers, saying they were too sensitive. With shaking hands Pete undid the buttons down the back of Mrs Marble's dress. She waved both arms and miraculously the dress top fell to her waist. Pete licked his lips at the sight of the sexy black bra – holes all over it showing glimpses of white flesh. He felt his cock thicken and Mrs Marble groaned in approval.
