Folding Newspapers

The

summer between my second and third years at the university I lived at home and delivered newspapers on the outskirts of the large city of Overbrook. It was hard work getting up at three despite the weather. We all gathered at an all night grocery to fold the papers and load our cars. Every morning it was the same routine. Occasionally the truck that brought the papers for us was late. I hated that because those mornings I would be late to class at a local community college.

One morning Ms. Drake was sitting on the porch of the large Victorian home. I had not actually seen her before. Glenda was one of the people that never had her name never appear on the

do not deliver

or

did not pay

list.

"Hey, Bruce," she said.

"Ms. Drake-e..." I was shocked at Glenda's appearance, and that she knew my name. Older than my mother by a few years, she was missing her left leg. A pair of crutches lay next to her. I stammered "What happened?" before I realized how wrong that sounded.

"They needed to cut my leg off...circulation was bad."

"That sucks. How are you doing?"

She adjusted her nightgown. I could still see her breasts though the flimsy fabric which also caressed the stump of thigh in a revealing manner.

"It's all healed up."

"How's Mr. Drake?"

"There isn't one, thankfully." She laughed.

"Oh." I shook my head and looked at the older, but attractive woman, for a while.

"Nice to have a man still wanting to look at me like that." She grinned.

"Like what?"

"With lust in his eyes." She grinned again, rubbed the stump. "Guess I didn't figure anyone would, now that I have one leg."

"Sorry, didn't mean to stare."

"Sugar, you weren't

staring

. You were drooling." She chuckled.

"Guess I was." I smiled. I was late and getting later. She was at the end of my route, and the next stop was my morning class - English Literature. I had failed it the prior term at the state university and hoped to make it up at the local community college along with three other courses. "I think you are pretty."

"I know a great eye doctor." She chuckled. "Besides, I bet all those girls at college are after you, and that you already have a sweet young thing to date."

"No ma'am. I don't have much luck with girls. First and second dates, but never a third." I rubbed my foot on the sidewalk. "Never even kissed a girl, not really

kissed

, you know."

"Shame. Why?"

"I'm socially awkward according to Mother."

"What'd she suggest?"

"Keep at it and maybe one day I'll meet someone

for me

...whatever that means."

"I guess she didn't offer to tutor you."

"No, ma'am. What could she teach me? She's my mother."

"Mother's know how to kiss."

"Eww."

"Does that mean you wouldn't want to kiss me?" Glenda grinned.

"I would...yeah, I would, but, ah..." I kept stammering.

"Come inside and maybe you'll have time for a quick lesson before school."

-oOOo-

The

screen door slammed shut as I followed her into the living room. She ushered me to the couch, and we sat almost touching at the hips. I could not believe that I was kissing her. She would be my first older woman, and nearly my first woman of any age. There had only been two girls - Suzy Decker, and Brenda Foster. Neither would let me do more than quickly kiss their lips. The rumors abounded they did plenty in the backseat at the drive-in movies with members of the football team. I had been hopeful, but greatly disappointed.

Glenda's lips felt good. Her arms held me in ways I had only read about. After a long moment, her tongue wormed smoothly between my lips and explored my mouth. I had to say it felt really great. She encouraged me to do the same to her mouth. I might miss my second class as well. Soon, we were trading tongues easily.

"See, it's not hard," she finally said once we stopped.

"I liked that, very much."

"I did as well, Bruce."

She kissed me again, only it did not feel like a lesson this time, but more like something that she truly wanted to do. Her hand caressed the back of my head, rubbed my cheek. I heard her breathe deeply, even sigh softly.

I don't know why, but my hand touched a breast. It was bold, and something I had not even thought about. It was an accident, or a hopeful wish...a fantasy at best. It was soft, sagged some, nicely shaped, but nothing like the ones I had seen in girly magazines. I left it there, and she did not push it away. I pushed up from below letting it rest in my palm.

"Your first?" she whispered, lips hovering near mine. "Of course."

I did not stop holding, but unsure what to do next. I moved my hand some and felt the nipple slide into place against my palm. Wow. A nipple, and it felt great.

"Would you like to see it?" She smiled, moved back just enough to open her nightgown a little to expose the breast I had held. "Go ahead, kiss it." She held it so that the nipple pointed at my face. "It's okay."

So, I kissed my first nipple. I listed to Glenda moan softly as though she was enjoying whatever I was doing. She encouraged me to hold it and kiss all over the breast. I was enjoying myself.

She reclined on the couch and pulled me alongside. The nightgown was around her waist; everything above was uncovered for my wandering eyes.

"You are lovely." I was not quite sure how to express it, but that covered the bases.

"You'd say that to any naked lady." She laughed.

"Maybe, but I'm glad you are the one in front of me."

"Sugar, you say the sweetest things."

I was surprised when she fussed with the snap on my jeans, pulled the zipper down. Where this might lead I did not care. She was pushing my pants down. It was more than ever had happened.

Glenda held my shaft inside my underwear. "Darling, is that because of me?" Of course, it was. We both knew why. "Would you like to put it inside me?" Do bears shit in the woods? Oh, hell yes. She pulled her nightgown up to the top of her thigh. I did not get to look, but I felt myself sliding into a damp opening. "That feels very good."

Good

did not come close to describing just how great it felt. Her hands gripped my ass and helped show me a rhythm for moving in and out. Her single leg moved up and over my back. I reached down and felt her stump. "Oh, yeah-h," she moaned.

It was over far, far too quickly, though I remained erect unlike when I masturbated. I continued sliding in and out in the mixture of our juices. She kept telling me how good it felt, and encouraging me to continue as long I wanted. How about the rest of my life? I might miss all my day's classes. I would have to dream up some excuse. Yes, I was fucking a lady on my paper route. I might be late most every day.

I'm in great demand by all her lady friends. Oh, that's your address, maybe I can fit you in.

We finished, and Glenda excused herself leaving the nightgown behind, telling me to lay still. She returned with a warm washcloth and cleaned me, sometimes taking me in her mouth, sometimes just using the washcloth.

"If you'd be interested, we can do that again."

"Are you kidding, I'd love to."

I would have to find time so my parents would not find out what I was doing. I could find a million reasons to be away from home after the end of school and before the time my father got home from work. We discussed when and agreed I would be back after school today.

"Can I see your stump?" I had already but not up close.

She stood without the nightgown and modeled for me, turning and twisting about, striking exotic and erotic posses. Glenda could have been a dancer in a night club, swinging around a brass pole. She was good, and performing just for me. I was the luckiest guy in school. I doubted the others would be envious.

-oOOo-

I

was a wreck. After class, I used the

late papers

excuse. It was not the first time, though I was later today. Ms. Johnson, accepted it as gospel. She was younger than Mother, and rumors had her living with another woman. I never knew what to believe about Ms. Johnson.

"Bruce, you should comb your hair. You look like you've been in the backseat." Ms. Johnson grinned.

"No ma'am. Thanks."

"Let's keep this to a minimum. She should let you get to class on time."

"There's no one."

"A good lookin' guy like you. I wish you delivered my newspaper."

I was busted, but it was fascinating that she not only seemed to know, even teased me about wanting me to stop by her house. I knew where, but I had never driven by. I looked over my shoulder as I reached for the auditorium door, grinned, thanked her, then walked towards my next class.

-oOOo-

Glenda

was waiting on her porch when I parked in front of the large Victorian house. She wore a short dress unbuttoned too much, and was barefooted. She stood to greet me leaving the crutches on the floor.

"Bruce, I was hoping you'd come." She hugged me tightly, but saved the kisses for inside where the neighbors would not see.

"We promised to meet."

"Yes, but I wasn't sure you'd be able."

"Couldn't stop me." I laughed.

We went inside. Maybe she was not the most beautiful woman in the world, but she seemed to care for me in ways that made up for anything lacking in the appearance department. Maybe I was the best she could find. I did not really care. We would use each other until it was not important.

"What would you like to do?" Glenda grinned, kissed me hard on the mouth as the door closed behind us.

"Hmm, let me see." I laughed, and pulled her hand towards the bedroom.

The next two hours she continued my education in making love with a woman. I was a fast learner. I had made her promise to make me leave by three, and I was out of the house by three-thirty.

"Where have you been?" Mother said as I hurried past on the way to my room.

"Studying." It was the truth, but not the kind of subject she was thinking.

"Maybe you can get your grades up."

That is not all I was getting up. I could not get my mind off the way Glenda Drake looked, especially with that missing leg. Why I felt that way was beyond me, but I was becoming a major fan of female amputees, and their stumps, even if she was the only one I had ever known.

Her left leg was amputated at the top of the thigh. The stump was probably three or five inches long, thick, soft, fleshy, and with a slender scar across the end. God, it was wonderful. I had played with it, fondled, and kissed it for the longest while. There were other parts nearby that I enjoyed, but that stump was something else for sure. It seemed I was the first to pay any attention to it. At least, she moaned as much about what I did with it as that wonderful damp opening next to it. Man. She tasted very nice.

"Any homework?" Mother said, standing in the door to my bedroom where I was putting textbooks on my desk.

"Always." I laughed.

"Any new girlfriends?"

"Geez, Mom. What do you think?"

"You should be putting yourself out there. You never know when Miss Right will appear."

"I will die a single man the way that things are going. Maybe you and I should date."

"I'm your mother, for heaven's sake."

"You're great looking. I bet we could have some good fun. You know. We could park in the back row at the drive-in, do some necking. I bet that you and Father never did that."

"I have you know he thought I was a great kisser. We fogged up plenty of car windows in our day."

"Yeah, Mom...tell me what it was like

back then

. Were you a wild child?"

She blushed, started to walk away, but turned back. "Not by today's standards, but I had boyfriends. Nothing serious, but three I liked. It was hard to choose. They eventually lost interest. Good thing, because that's how I met your father. He was a real head-turner, too. He was dating one of the cheerleaders, and when that ended we just happened to meet one afternoon."

"How long did it take for you to kiss him?"

She blushed again. "On our first date."

"Where was it?"

"At the beach. A wave knocked me over, and he pulled me up. We just happened to kiss, then we kissed again. I enjoyed his lips."

"What about drive-ins...when did you and he climb into the backseat?"

"Back then...well, it was almost understood that the drive-in was the place to go and make-out. They called them

passion pits

. Don't think I was easy, but he had his ways...he charmed me like no guy before him."

"Charmed you out of your panties?" I laughed.

"Bruce, don't be nasty."

"Did you have sex?"

"Bruce, what's gotten into you. I have to get dinner ready. You're father will be home soon."

"Do you still have sex?"

"I'll have you know I'm not over the hill, not yet, not by a long shot."

"With Father?"

"Bruce, you have a gutter-mind."

"I'm growing up, and need to learn how I'm supposed to be."

"Read a Playboy."

"Mother, that's not real life. Will you talk to me about this?"

"Why is this important all of a sudden?"

"I suck at girls...even with ones that fuck other boys."

"Watch your language."

"Then what do you call it when girls have casual sex?"

"

Fucking

is good enough." Mother laughed.

"Which is better,

fucking

or

making love

?"

Mother sat on my bed, looked at me while wringing her hands. She did not want to talk about this, and probably thought Father should have already. She probably had begged him to have this talk with me often. I did not know, only that neither had even hinted about it to me. Heck, I had even taught myself to shave.

"Shit, Bruce. You and Father should be having this talk."

"He doesn't know about women. You should be more knowledgeable since you're one."

"I suppose." She blushed again. I could tell this was disturbing, or at least embarrassing. "There are times

making love

becomes

fucking

, and sometimes there is only fucking. Both can be good in the right circumstances."

"Which do you prefer, and how do you decide which is going to happen?"

"Oh, God, Bruce...this is so difficult."

"Too bad you can't just show me."

"Fuck Bruce," she cursed, a rare thing for her. "That's just wrong. I can't do that."

"If you could, would you?"

"Bruce, Bruce, what am I going to do with you?"

I rubbed my crotch. "Teach me."

"Darling, you're serious, aren't you? And, you're erect! God. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm looking at a lovely woman. How else am I to feel? That's the problem, no one will help me understand how to handle these urges I have. I can't just hide behind a bush and pounce on some girl, can I?"

"That'd be worse than if we had sex."

I could not believe that my own mother had just said that, or that she was engaging me in the topic. First Glenda, and now Mother. If she gave in would I do anything? Parts of my body were screaming

do her right here in your own bed

, and others were more cautious. I had a feeling I knew which would win, given the chance.

"You could teach me to

fuck

just the way you'd want for a guy to do it. I bet you would love every moment."

"Good, God-d, what are you suggesting?"

"That we find time to have you educate me in the finer points of sex."

"What if Father found out?"

She was not ruling it out, or saying it was wrong. Now, she was just worried if Father found out. Had she had these thoughts on her own? For how long? How did she keep her hands off me if she did have them?

"Why would I tell him or anyone?"

"Geez, I can't believe we are having this conversation."

"Start slowly. Just teach me to kiss."

"Whoa-a, just kissing might be too much."

I pulled my tee shirt off. My torso had nice muscles, nice tone, all from working out. There was no hair. I had seen girls at the beach looking at me. I understood they were interested. Why they never did anything about it I did not know. Now, Mother stared at me just as the girls had - lusting, creaming in their panties.

I sat beside Mother on the bed, wrapped an arm around her waist, my head, my lips not far from her face. She took a deep breath, sighed deeply, then muttered something before her lips touched mine.

It was just like with Glenda. I let her control the pace. I did not want to give away that I had been tutored by Glenda. Mother moved her head, twisting it slightly for a better position. Her tongue wormed between my lips, explored my mouth. She was not trying to teach me anything, she was enjoying it far too much; no, she was into this for her own pleasure.

She stopped, but did not pulled back. "This is wrong." She kissed me again, with the same passion. "Oh-h, yes-s," she moaned, rubbing my chest with one hand, then pulling my hand to her breast. "Oh, God-d, yes-s." She was wild, pushing me onto my back, ripping at my jeans. I was clean from the last time with Glenda. Free from my underwear, she was sitting on top, sliding down my shaft. Glenda had done the same. I was ready. "Darling, this is so wrong." The tone of her voice let me know she did not mean

wrong

in that usual sense. She was having too much fun. "Oh, God, I'm so close."

I warned her that I would come. She did not stop, moaning that she was safe, mauling breasts with both hands. She did not stop for the longest time, even long after I finished my climax. Still atop me, she leaned down and sucked my mouth for awhile.

"That's what

fucking

is like." She snickered, then got off me.

"I might have missed a few details. Maybe we can try that again." I chuckled.

I was still erect. She gripped me tightly with one hand, then stroked through our mingled juices. She looked at me with a lustful grin, and continued stroking, not just a few times, but for minutes.

"Damn, you are a so much fun, you know." She finally let go.

"Father plays golf on Saturday." I grinned.

"I need to think about this. Man. I need to think about it." She dressed. "Saturday, huh. Yeah. Let me see."

I slapped her on the butt. "Yeah. I will too." I slapped her again. From her reaction I thought she enjoyed the slap. I slapped her again.

-oOOo-

The

last thing I wanted to do was get up and drive to fold newspapers. The sky was clear, and the moon full. Some of the guys were older, in their thirties and forties. There were two women, each in their thirties, and looked like they were fifty from a hard life. They could curse and keep up with any man that delivered papers. Most smoked, and some drank a beer from a travel coffee mug while folding. It was against the rules, and if the supervisor caught them drinking, they would be fired on the spot. I suspect it would not have been the first time they had been caught.

"Did you hear Harold fucks his mother?" Connie said, pointing at one of the guys my age. "What's it like with a one-legged lady, Harold?"

"Cut your fucking leg off and find out," Harold replied, flipping her the finger.

"Is that true," I said to him, "about the leg?"

"Fuck you dip-wad. Try your mother and let me know if she isn't the best you've ever had. Oh, right, Bruce's a

virgin

."

"Isn't it right, Harold, she wanted the leg amputated?" Susan said. "Does that make it more exciting for you?"

Harold Wilson flipped her the finger twice, the second for effect. "And fuck you, Connie."

Connie stood with both feet spread apart, grabbed her crotch. "Anytime you want a real piece of ass, let me know. I'm ready, big guy."

None of the conversation escaped me, and I replayed every word while I delivered my papers. The lights were out at Glenda's house. I had promised to come over before school. I thought about my mother. If I had to choose, it would be difficult. I enjoyed Glenda. She was single, and missing the leg. Mother was convenient, but Father would always be an obstacle, and she was my

mother

. That was the biggest issue.