"Tease Them With Ease" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leggs Seymour)

Chapter 2

Neil didn't have to come back to clean the pool for two days. When he did there was little to do. But he washed the tiles again and struggled the long brush out of the pump house. As he stood brushing the small collection of debris along the pool bottom toward the drain, Christine Hamilton passed by.

"Hi, Christine," he said.

"Hello," she answered almost as if he weren't there. Then she was gone.

Neil stared back into the water and continued his brushing. Christine was a year behind him in school, she lived in the apartments with her parents. For two years he had admired her from a distance, then he got this job. Now he saw her more often, and each time he did his heart skipped a beat, but it didn't seem to matter. She would say hello and be polite but it was obvious the distance was still there.

Christine was a popular girl at school. This year she was chosen to be one of the High Kickers. The High Kickers were the high school drill team, or dance team. A selection of the most beautiful, most poised girls on campus. And in Neil's estimation, she was the most attractive of all.

Last week, during the first football game of the year, the High Kickers performed at half-time. Neil sat in the bleachers and was able to pick her out from all the rest. His heart ached for her attention, she was outstanding, breathtaking. But he knew how futile his hopes were.

He worked after school. The only activity he was involved in was the swim team. Last year he was only a second stringer, nothing glorious. He didn't have the time to cultivate a wide range of friends, to be a big man on campus, to be popular and have the opportunity to select a fitting girlfriend.

Then there was his shyness. Neil hated it. Whenever he was among the popular people he found he couldn't speak, couldn't say the cool, witty things they were always coming up with. He considered himself a dullard, a fool, a dud.

"You were quite a hero the other day," came a voice from behind him.

Neil snapped out of his deep thought, and turned. It was Mr. Crocker, good old Mr. Crocker. He sat in his usual chair with his sunglasses on and nodded.

"Oh, all I did was pull the girl out of the pool," said Neil.

Mr. Crocker grinned and showed his yellow teeth. The sparse gray hairs on his chin glittered in the bright sunlight. "Oh, that's what you think, my boy It's the simple things, the small acts, which make the difference between a normal man and a heroic man."

"Well…"

Mr. Crocker just kept talking right on through Neil's sentence, as was his habit. "Of course you are still pretty young. I don't know if you're a man yet. You have the body of one, but hell, that doesn't mean a thing. Maybe you're a boy-hero."

Neil knew the elderly gent was putting him on. He always referred to Neil as some kind of child, and indeed he was a child in the eyes of a man in his eighties. "I'm going to be nineteen pretty soon, Mr. Crocker."

"Ah yes, nineteen, I remember it well. When I reached nineteen I thought I had done it all. I was ready to retire then. Now look at me, I'm eighty-two and trying to make people think I have plenty of good years left."

"You do, Mr. Crocker."

"I have years but that's about it. I don't know what's so good about them. I sit out here and watch what's going on. Look at the half-naked ladies and wish I were your age. My sight is about the only decent sense I have left, but I sure do enjoy what I see. Heh-heh."

Mr. Crocker always managed to steer the conversation around to the ladies. Neil and the old man had had many long conversations about how things were in the old days. How the women were much more coy, a lot tougher to win over. The old man always ended his talks with the remark that now everything was easy and available, now that it was too late for him to do anything about it.

"Say," continued the old man, "that little girl's mother sure is a sight for sore eyes. She was wearing the smallest swimsuit I've ever seen.

Neil nodded and held his silence.

"She's a real beautiful woman, don't you think?"

"Uh-huh."

"When I was your age, the underwear women wore were ten times more covering than that swimsuit. And you know… heh-heh… I used to get really worked up when I saw a lady in her girdle. Can you believe that? Lord, things sure have changed."

Neil pictured old Mr. Crocker wrestling some young lady out of her corset and began to giggle.

"Think it's funny?" the old man said. "Well, you're right. We've had the Stone Age, the Iron Age, and all the rest of the ages. Now it's the flesh age… and damnit, I'm too old to get in on it"

"Oh, you're not that old…" lied Neil.

"You'll see, you'll see. But for Pete's sake make hay while the sun shines, that's what I always said. And I made my hay whenever I could… took a lot of work, too. But you're living in the age of liberation and sexual revolution, so score while you can. History repeats itself, and those damned girdles and corsets will be back on the women before you know it. Mark my words, young man.

"I'll try my best," said Neil

"That's all you can do. Never take no for an answer and never think twice… just do it… may seem like a risky thing at the time… but when you get to be my age you'll have memories to dream about…"

The old man drifted off to sleep and Neil continued his sweeping. He really enjoyed Mr. Crocker's stories of the past and he respected the old man. He had lived a long, active life and was trying to impart his years of experience to Neil. Neil felt obliged to listen, to try his hardest to understand just what the lesson was the old man was trying to pass on.

He hadn't seen Helen since the other day but was anxious to. Not for any reason other than to show her he was in full control of himself. He wanted her to see him, hear him give her a casual greeting that showed no trace of what they had done. Even though she'd hardly left his thoughts for two days, Neil knew he could play the we-didn't-do-it game with complete and total conviction.

But his head was swimming ever since she so kindly relieved him of his virginity. Suddenly the girls at school seemed just that – girls. There wasn't one pair of deep eyes among the whole co-ed population. They seemed silly, flirtatious, juvenile, and not worth the effort.

In contrast, Neil felt manly, worldly, mature. He didn't need wit or charm, he was acting the role of the strong, silent type. The man who quietly, discreetly, was carrying on an affair with a married, older woman. He felt comfortable in the part even though he knew the affair was nothing more than a one-shot occurrence. But he could dream.

He finished his sweeping and managed to get the brush hung over the filters with minimum hassle. Now he had to flush the filters and tidy up the pump-house. The water roared loud in his ears as he worked at his task. He didn't hear the person in the open doorway until she yelled.

"Are you Neil?" she screeched.

Neil jumped and spun around. He faced a woman with a short, businesslike haircut. She was dressed in a light beige suit and carried a briefcase. He turned the valves on the filters until the noise subsided then looked back up to notice the lady was smiling. She had straight white teeth and a very attractive face.

"Yes?" he asked.

She stuck her hand out to him like an insurance salesman and said, "My name is Gloria Tyson. I'm a reporter with the Chronicle."

"Oh." Neil took the tiny hand and shook it. She shook back with a strong, firm shake.

"I was told I could find you here by Mr. Walker, your employer"

"Uh-huh." Neil had no idea why.

"Is there some place where we can talk?"

"Uh, sure… I guess so," he stammered.

She saw he didn't understand. "I want to interview you. We need a place where it's not so noisy."

"Interview me? Why?"

“We'll get to that. Where can we go?"

"Uh… how about the lanai?" The lanai was what Mr. Walker had labeled the recreation room. It was a small building that stood on the far side of the pool area, where tenants could play pool and sit around tables. As far as Neil could recall, he'd never seen anyone use it.

"Oh. that's perfect," she replied.

As they walked from the pump house to the lanai Neil noticed that his first impression of the lady was inaccurate. The suit and briefcase had thrown him. Actually the suit did little to conceal the rhythmic roll and lift of her firm, round backside and the fullness of her breasts. She was a small woman, tiny and compact, with a disarming manner of business propriety about her.

They sat on the floral-print couch in the shade of the poolside playroom. She opened her briefcase and took out a photograph.

"This picture came into our office yesterday afternoon and I've been sent out to get a cover story for it," she said.

Neil looked at the photograph. It was him. And the girl. He was shocked by the clear beauty and professionalism of the photo. There he was, dripping wet, out of the pool with the struggling girl in his arms. But she didn't look like she was struggling. She looked unconscious, one arm wrapped around his neck, her face away from the camera, her body contorted like the victim of some great tragedy.

It was a full-length photo that showed his whole body. His build looked terrific, his narrow waist and strong legs. The skimpy swim-team trunks. But the most surprising thing about the picture was the expression on Neil's face. It brought back all the pain and agony he had suffered from the solid kick in the balls by the girl's tiny foot.

His face was a grimace of fear, suffering, it looked like he was in the grip of some great torture, some powerful panic which controlled his whole being. Dots of water sparkled on his skin, streams of wetness streaked his face like tears; all in all, the picture made him feel like some victim of a great holocaust carrying his stricken child from the wreckage.

"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.

"Oh. Neil… " she sighed.

He slid a finger inside the hot skin and sent it far up until his last knuckle was covered by her quivering lips. She lifted herself up and swayed from left to right as he twisted the finger from side to side, feeling, exploring.

“That's it, Neil… work me up… get me real hot and I'll go crazy, absolutely crazy…"

He quickly pumped the finger in and out of the warm slit. He found that the faster he pumped, the more she responded; then, on an impulse, he slid two fingers inside. She groaned and wrenched herself up to his digging probe. Her head whipped from side to side and she sucked – loud for each breath. Then Neil felt her tight grip on his cock.

"Put it in me, Neil… I want to feel your cock in-side me, please!"

She tugged hard at his meat while he. removed the fingers and lay forward. He was thankful she guided his flared cock head deftly into the opening of her cunt. He wasn't quite sure how he would -have managed with blind stabs in the general area of her oozing cunt.

Once his cock head met her anxious pussy lips, it was all reflex action. He knew what to do by instinct. His buns flexed and pushed downward. The long, erect cock dug neatly inside her twisting hole. She felt warm, smooth, slick, good. He felt his cock head stretch her slippery skin back and surge deeper and deeper.

"Oh! Uhhhhh!" she moaned in his ear. "It's so good!"

Her encouraging cries only served to arouse Neil even more. He pushed himself deep and fast until she gasped in pain as his cock dead-ended into her uppermost regions. His cock was almost completely imbedded. Her hips were a flutter of constant jerks and swirls around the fine fill of his terrific meat.

Neil slowly withdrew and she sighed with relief. But just as soon as he was almost out he changed directions and reentered. Her hands gripped his bare shoulders tight as the mammoth column filled and stretched her glorying cunt.

"Go fast, Neil… go real fast… Pound it in me." she mumbled.

Neil looked down on her smiling face and saw she was much older than he had guessed. He figured she was about Helen's age, but now, up close, it was obvious she was older. He was a poor judge of age but knew she had to be in her thirties at least. And here she was going crazy under the cock of a seventeen-year-old boy!

Suddenly Neil felt powerful, strong. He rammed his stick deep and fast inside her. Then he pulled back and repeated. With each stroke he went a little faster, a little harder. She let out a little yelp each time he collided with her deep insides, but he didn't stop.

Her gripping hands turned to fists and pounded his shoulders as his buttocks blurred with speed behind his riveting cock. He leaned well forward so that the peaked nipples of her high-riding tits squashed against his chest. From that position he found there was less weight on his legs and he had much more freedom of movement in his hips.

She wants it fast, he said to himself… well, that's what I'll give her. Neil was in great physical shape, each and every muscle of his well-defined body had undergone endless hours of exercise and training in the pool. Now he set them to work in a form of waterless swimming. He let his hips take their own lead, vibrate and jab of their own accord. As if his mid-body was separate unto itself, it worked at a furious pace.

Neil's legs and arms strained for control as his rump whipped downward with rapid fire humps. His cock was like a well-oiled piston as it followed a straight, true course of constant movement in and out. Gloria was true to her word. She went crazy. Her pounding fists hit his back in a rhythm matching his double-time thrusts. Her mouth was wide open and gasping, her eyes closed, her tongue licked in a wide circle around her moist lips.

"I don't believe it. I don't believe you're doing this!" she cried. "I've never felt anything so good!"

Her hands traveled down his back to cup each of his hard buns and tug. She wanted it deeper, harder. She was begging for him to split her body wide open with his endless cock. Instead of speeding up his pace, Neil took longer withdrawals and sent his throbbing cock deep into her with fast, powerful jabs.

"Yes! Yes! Yesyesyesyes!" she cried.

Neil's face was covered with sweat, his back was starting to ache, and he knew his cock wouldn't last much longer. He was hot, boiling, steaming, and the tingling pressure deep in his loins was building as quickly as he was thrusting. The closer he got to his climax, the less control he could exert on his humping body.

"I'm close," she reported. "So close… keep it up, Neil. Oh, Neil… I love you…"

Her statement of love served to dull Neil's passion a slight amount. Not that he didn't like her, didn't feel grateful that she was fucking him, didn't admire her practiced skill and obvious ability as a reporter… but something just made him feel her statement of love was totally out of place.

But it gave him the necessary time. She dug her fingers deep into the crack of his ass and bit his shoulder when the first wave of wracking orgasm hit her petite body. She held on to him for dear life as her small hips lifted with enough might to carry him aloft.

"Uhhhhhhhhh," she groaned with tremendous relief, Her finger was solidly against the pucker of his ass-hole and she unconsciously stroked the tight muscle as her body whipped wildly underneath him. That sent Neil over. His asshole quivered when the sperm started into his cock, it almost relaxed open and swallowed her finger when his cock head spewed the thick juice inside her clapping cunt.

His body humped uncontrollably into her now-relaxing form. She spread herself wide and eagerly took each and every one of his thrashing stabs. Her hands were now soft, caressing, gentle, and encouraging. His orgasm lasted immeasurable minutes before he found control coming back.

She hugged him tight and wouldn't let him move as his thick spike took its time deflating. "I want to feel every possible second of you," she whispered.

Neil lay still and waited while his cock shriveled, receded, and finally popped free with an ooze of whipped jism and dripping juice. She kissed his shoulders, his neck, and cheeks, and Neil knew he had done well. The lady was totally satisfied, glowing, happy.

He felt good too. He was proud of his performance for only the second time out. He had learned a little bit about taking the lead, setting the pace, getting on top- and playing the dominant role. He knew that there was great room for improvement, but little cause for criticism. He felt damned good.

"Okay, my hero, we ought to get up before anyone wanders in here," she hummed in his ear.

Neil sat up and reached for his swimsuit. As he stood and pulled the trunks up he looked at his liquid-coated cock and grinned. He no longer had a freshman cock, now it was past that, it was at least a sophomore – and, more important, on the dean's list!