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

Chapter 4

Neil's newfound popularity even affected Christine. The next day he saw her walking by the pool as he tightened the bolts on the chrome ladder. She stopped behind him and politely waited until he was finished. Neil was nervous, he had no idea what he could say.

He stood. She was right there, smiling, friendly. "Hello," he managed.

"Hi, Neil. How are you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm fine… just fixing the ladder." The blush started to redden his face.

"Gee, you can do Just about everything, can't you?" she asked with great admiration.

She was breathtaking. He stared at the peach-like complexion of her tender face, at the crisp whiteness of her neatly pressed blouse. She wore a short blue skirt which barely covered the curving, graceful lines of two sleek legs. Her long, soft hair curled down across her shoulders in full blond sweeps. He swallowed.

"Well, Mr. Walker gave me more hours of work, so I'm doing minor repairs now," he reported.

She seemed thrilled by this dull bit of information. Her eyes gleamed with respect. "I saw your picture in the paper yesterday."

"Oh." He felt awkward.

"Everybody at school is talking about you," she added.

He looked down at his bare feet in embarrassment. "It wasn't that big a deal," he mumbled.

"Yes it was!" she excitedly responded. "The story said you didn't hesitate for one second… that you disregarded all thoughts about your own safety and just jumped in after her. I think that's wonderful!"

She was honestly impressed. Neil said nothing, he didn't want to dampen her newfound respect for him.

"But who took the picture?" she asked. "The story didn't say anything about that."

"I don't know," he said. "The reporter didn't tell me. Just someone living here had a camera and saw it. But I don't know who."

"That's funny," she said.

"Yeah, I'd like to thank him," said Neil.

"Well, who knows? Maybe he'll show up," she said. Then she batted her eyes and tilted her sweet head to the side. "I better get home and let my mom know I'm here. Maybe I'll see you later?"

"I hope so," he answered.

She had never been this friendly to him before. He was elated. Her smiling face definitely imparted a desire to get to know him much better. Her face suddenly went serious. She said, I'm going to check everything in our apartment and see if anything needs repair."

"Just let me know."

She giggled. "I will, Neil. 'Bye."

With a wave she was gone. Neil let his eyes drink the sway of her skirt as it rocked beneath the solid grinding of her proud rump. His heart felt weak, tired. His head was dizzy with desire. Beyond a doubt she was the girl of his dreams, the sweetest, most beautiful girl in his whole high school.

"My boy, you have a real problem."

It was Mr. Crocker. Sitting in his chair under the shade of the side of the building. He had watched the whole thing in silence and was now about to give Neil his play-by-play wrap-up.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Crocker."

"Why didn't you ask that young filly out?" the old man asked.

"I don't know," said Neil. "Gosh, we hardly know each other."

"At the rate you're going you'll be my age before you do," Crocker said. "She was batting those eyes at you like an Oriental fan. That's a sign, my boy… a good sign. It means she hankers for your attention.

"You think so?"

"I know so. Hell, I ought to – in my day eyelashes were about all you could see of women. They wore so damned many clothes the only thing you could flirt with was eyelashes. A set of eyelashes flapping like that meant business… real business. Either that or the lady had a sty… and I don't think that little cutie has any problems with her eyes or any other part of her body."

"But I couldn't be sure… I'd love to ask her out, but I guess I'm scared she'll refuse."

"Hah!" Mr. Crocker slapped his knee and guffawed. "You still don't understand, do you?"

"Understand what?"

"My boy, you're a celebrity. You've had your picture on the front page, you're a hero, the toast of the town. That means no one will refuse you anything. I thought you'd have figured that out by now."

Neil sat next to Mr. Crocker. "But I didn't do anything so great."

"Doesn't matter. All that matters Is people think you did. Don't disappointment them… hell, you're important to them. They can say to their friends, 'I know Neil,' or 'I went out with him."' Neil saw Mr. Crocker's eyebrows lift above the rim of his glasses. The statement was apparently sincere and of importance.

"But I don't…"

"I know what you're going to say. You want to be loved and accepted for yourself, not for this heroic act. It's the same old story… some men are afraid women are after their money, some think they're turned on by a flashy car. But what's it matter? What you did is now part of you. You have to accept it and face the facts."

"What do you mean?" asked Neil.

"I mean this: You'll never know if a girl is interested in you because of what you did or not. So just assume they all are. Take advantage of it, play the role they expect of you, and don't worry about their motives," the old man said.

"That makes sense," said Neil.

"You bet it does. Now you have everyone treating you like a hero… everyone but one person. You. Just convince yourself and everything will fall in place. You'll have the magic touch every man dreams about."

"Maybe…"

"Boy, you're on the crest of a wave. It's time for you to decide whether you want to ride it or chicken out. Many men chicken out and regret it later," said Crocker.

"Maybe Christine would like to go to the movies this week," said Neil.

"Hah! haha!" Mr. Crocker's cane lifted in the air as he pounded it down with enthusiastic enjoyment "Now you've got the spirit! That's the attitude!"

"I'll ask her before I go home tonight."

"And she'll say yes! You know she will. Why, that girl's just dying to go out with you!" Mr. Crocker banged his cane once more and began to wheeze.

Neil stood. He could see it was time to let the old gentleman rest, he was getting too excited. But before he could go Mr. Crocker turned to him and removed his glasses. Mr. Cracker seldom did that, it meant he had a final word of great importance.

He looked up with his red, aged eyes and said, "You won't forget me now, will you? You'll remember who your coach is and let him know how things work out?"

A youthful twinkle sparkled from his eyes and Neil smiled. "Of course, Mr. Crocker. I'll let you know what happens."

The glasses lowered like curtains on a stage and Mr. Crocker drifted off to sleep. Neil went back to the ladder and collected his tools. As he walked to the pump house he met another tenant.

"Excuse me." It was a man, tall, with a pencil-thin mustache on his upper lip.

"Hello," said Neil. The man was staring at him with a strange intensity. The man's face was wet with perspiration, he seemed nervous, tense.

"My name is Felix Nader. I live in that apartment right over there." Felix pointed at the apartment right next to Helen's. As a matter of fact, their two patios were only separated by the tall fence between.

"Oh." Neil had no idea what the man wanted. "I was hoping we could talk. You see, I'm the person who took your photograph the other day when you saved the little girl."

"Oh? That was you? I was wondering who took It. Gee, thank you. I'm very grateful," said Neil.

Felix smiled. Neil was suddenly reminded of a cat, a feline, feminine pussy cat. The man wiped his hand nervously across his curly bush of hair and said, "I made some copies of the original and wondered if you'd like one. They're much nicer than the newspaper prints."

Neil nodded. "Yessir, I would. My mom would be thrilled to have one."

The smile came back. "Fine. Then come along and I'll give you a couple."

Felix's apartment was drab and dark even though the sun shone brilliantly outside. The kitchen was more darkroom than cooking area. Trays of chemicals, an enlarger, photo frames, and driers were placed on the sink and table. A line of cord ran across the room, with large photos clipped on it by means of clothespins.

"I use this as my darkroom," said Felix. "When I have a model I use the living room for shooting. It works out quite nicely, except my roommate is angry because of the mess."

"You have a lot of equipment," said Neil. "Are you a professional?"

Felix's face puckered up proudly. "Of course I am. As a matter of fact, I made myself some nice money with your photograph."

"Oh." Neil saw the large lights on tripod stands in the living room. Several cameras were on the shelf. The man was certainly prepared.

"I was shooting some photographs on my patio when I heard all the commotion. I peeked over the fence just in time to take the picture." He held out an eight-by-ten-inch glossy photograph of Neil with the soaking girl. Isn't it divine? I hardly had time to make the setting, but it came out quite clear."

"Yes, it did," said Neil. The photograph was the clearest yet. His crotch, embarrassing bulge and all, was defined so well it looked alive.

"Here are two more. One for your mom, one for your wall, one for your girlfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?"

Felix was standing quite close and Neil felt uncomfortable His senses were telling him to pack up and get out fast. But he had to be polite. "Uh… no, not really. No steady girl."

The photographer's face fell with mock sadness. "Oh, that's too bad."

"Well, I better get back to work. I wouldn't want Mr. Walker catching me goofing off," said Neil. He started for the patio door.

"One more thing," said Felix. Neil could tell by the sinister lilt of the man's voice that he was about to learn the real reason for being enticed into the apartment He slowly turned around.

There it was. Not an eight-by-ten, but an eleven-by-fourteen-inch glossy photograph of extremely impressive quality. Neil gulped. Felix grinned his finest Cheshire grin. It was obvious the photographer didn't stop with only one photo that day.

Neil was staring at a photo of his bare ass. His own bare ass with the muscular, round buns seated deep between the wide-spread thighs of the grateful mother, Helen. Her head was tossed to the side and her ecstatic face was totally captured in living detail.

The next photo Felix proudly held up was from the same angle. This time Helen had one hand deeply Imbedded in the crack of his ass as she urged him in and out. Then he was shown three more pictures taken while his sperm was coating Helen's wonderful breasts. Both faces showed in these. Neil felt beads of sweat all over his body.

The final photographs were of Helen astride his wildly bucking body. They were magnificent, clearer than any he had ever seen. Too clear – their faces were in each one.

"I used my thirty-five millimeter for these," Felix said. "I'm thrilled with the way they came out"

"Listen," said Neil. "If her husband sees those she'll get in a lot of trouble. You shouldn't have taken them."

"Oh? Yes, I guess you're right It would be a shame if he saw them. He'd be furious with her. He'd also probably kill you. He's a very big man said Felix.

Neil nodded. He was well aware of Helen's husband's size. "Why did you take them?" he asked.

"Oh," Felix grinned again, "I'm doing a photo essay. You see, I was taking pictures before the girl almost drowned. Then I took them when you saved the girl. I decided I had to have some to show what happened afterward."

"You did?"

"Absolutely." Felix laid several more pictures on the table. They were all of Helen as she sunbathed in her yard. Neil realized why Felix was ready with his camera when he saved the little girl The skinny rat was taking pictures of Helen through the fence as she lay completely naked in the sun.

They were excellent also. Tremendous quality, frightening subject matter. "What are you going to do with them?" asked Neil.

"Nothing," said Felix. "That is, if you do me a favor.

"Oh?"

"Yes. And if you don't, I'll see to it that one of these shots with you and her together happens to get to Helen's husband."

"Oh no," mumbled Neil.

"He'll be insane with anger. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes…"

"What's the favor?" asked Neil. He knew he was trapped. Felix had him by the balls. He hoped it wouldn't be something disgusting or impossible.

"Sit down." Neil sat obediently. "I want you to do some more modeling for me."

"Yes?"

"Models are so damned expensive these days. I have one coming day after tomorrow, you'll like her. I want you to pose with her while I take some really good shots."

"You mean… like those?" He pointed at the pie-hires of himself and Helen fucking.

The grin came back. "Exactly."

Neil swallowed. He wasn't too keen on having his photo done like that but he had little choice. "Do I get the negatives of the ones with Helen?" he asked.

"No. But we'll burn them together if you like. I want to be sure they're destroyed, if you cooperate," said Felix.

Neil nodded. "Okay, I'll do it Day after tomorrow."

"Four o'clock."

"Four o'clock." Neil stood and silently walked from the apartment. His heart was in his stomach, he had goofed, the dirty bastard had him trapped. His only hope was that the model would be beautiful and his face obscured in the new photographs. Big hope.

He took his tools to the apartment of Miss Touffle, after changing out of his swimsuit. He was completely occupied with thoughts of Helen's giant husband as he rang the doorbell. The door was opened by a short woman with ebony-black hair pulled tightly back on her head.

She had large, heavily made-up eyes and pink-rouged cheeks. She smiled. "Oh? Are you the repairman?" she asked.

Neil nodded. "Yes, I'm here to fix your faucet"

"Wonderful." She opened the door fully and Neil saw she was dressed in a pink leotard. The skin-tight body stocking hugged her body like flesh. She led the way to the kitchen and pointed at a dripping faucet. "That's the culprit."

Neil surveyed the job and said, "It won't take long. It must be the washer."

"Good. I'll be in the other room doing my exercises. Let me know when you're done."

She walked off and Neil noticed how solidly built she was. Her legs were her most outstanding feature. They were long and muscular. With each step the defined muscles rippled sensuously up her legs to the perfect ovals of tight, hard buns. Her waist was the thinnest he had ever seen. He figured she was some kind of athlete or something, she was built like the Russian gymnasts he saw on television. Muscular but not thick He turned his attention to the faucet.

He didn't notice when it started but soon he found himself humming along with some very pleasant music. The faucet washer was worn. He replaced It and the drip stopped. As he put his tools into the toolbox he heard Miss Touffle coming from the next room.

"Isn't this you?" she was asking. Neil saw she was carrying a copy of the paper with his picture on the front page.

His first impulse was to act humble… but then he remembered the wise words of Mr. Crocker. He played the role. "Yes, ma'am, that's me," he proudly said.

"Oh." She looked again at the picture. "Do you dance?"

"Huh?"

"I was noticing your body. It's quite well developed, like that of a dancer."

"Oh! No, I don't dance. But I swim on the swim team," he replied.

She nodded. "That's it. You look like you'd be an excellent dancer." She dropped the paper and started to size him up with her eyes.

"Well, actually I'm pretty awkward. Oh, I do the dances at school, but I don't think that's what you mean…"

"Come with me, young man. I'd like you to see something," she said. Abruptly she turned and strutted into the next room. Neil followed.

It was a two bedroom apartment but the second bedroom was lined with mirrors along two walls. A long bar about waist high ran the length of the third wall. She stopped in the center of the room, turned, and gracefully did a knee-bending dip with one hand extended.

Neil stood just inside the door and watched. The music came from a small stereo in the corner. She leaped into the air from her squatting position and flicked her feet several times before landing. Then she went into a wild spin and jumped like a gazelle almost halfway across the room. Neil was impressed, he had watched the guys on the track team practice their jumping… none of them came close to her distance.

She turned to him and smiled sweetly. "Take off your shoes, Neil. Let's see how far you can leap."

"Oh, Miss Touffle, I don't think I can do it very well," he mumbled.

"Now, come on, Neil, just give it a try."

He heard the echo of Mr. Crocker's words once again and swallowed his shyness. Quickly he kicked his shoes off and took three prancing steps before launching himself high into the air. He was pleasantly surprised at how well he did. It was a fine jump.

"Excellent!" Miss Touffle screeched. "Why, you're magnificent, simply magnificent!"

"Thank you," he said. Then on impulse he asked the obvious: "Are you a ballet dancer?"

She nodded as she approached him. "Yes… not professionally anymore. I gave that up after my second husband died. But I do give lessons. That's why I've made my studio here."

"It's very nice," said Neil. He was edging toward his shoes.

"Wait. I want you to try one more thing. To see how limber you are." She did the deep squat again. This time she stayed down. "Can you do this?"

Neil's eyes were glued to the husky lump of flesh and hair bulging against the crotch of her leotard. He had never seen anyone so supple, so graceful. He slowly squatted down as far as he could.

She raised up and circled him. "Very good," she bummed as she pushed softly back on his shoulders. "Must keep your back straight… that's right"

She was standing in front of him with her mounded crotch right in his face. Neil could feel the heat of her exercised body and loins on his cheeks. The pinkness of the leotard gave her a confection-sweet appearance. He decided it was time to test the advice of Mr. Crocker.

Impulsively, without thinking or hesitating, he leaned forward and kissed her mound. She froze. He rocked back and waited. She stepped back two graceful steps and stared down at him. "You're not taking me seriously, are you?" she asked.

Neil knew he'd won. If she was going to react to his gutsy advance she would already be at it. But instead she was asking stupid questions. He smiled. "I can't think about dancing with you looking like you do. I'm sorry, but I just can't do it"

She blushed. Then turned. He stared at her firm rump then noticed she was watching him in the mirror. Suddenly she giggled, her hand came up to her mouth. Neil felt his ears growing red. Was she making fun of him?

His question was answered by her hand reaching up behind her to find the leotard zipper. "Well, I can't have my student distracted, now can I?" she whispered.

"No! You can't!" he answered.

She wiggled out of the leotard as Neil watched with an open mouth. Her breasts were small and pointed. Brown nipples sat high on each one. As she bent over to step out of the leotard he saw the pulpy, tender flesh of her cunt The pubic hair was shaved back on the edges to keep stray hairs from creeping out of her leotard crotch. It was a full-blown, ripe cunt with a glistening red slit and inviting neatness.

Neil stood and found his cock was stiff as a board. It bent against his pants and caused a tremendous bulge. Miss Touffle smiled, did a bow, then a breath taking pirouette.

Her body flew into the air as she leapt with great freedom around the room. Neil quickly shed his clothing and eagerly pranced after her.

"Oh! Now I see my student is more willing to cooperate" she laughed.

He lunged for her but she sidestepped and he hugged thin air. She went to the practice bar and hoisted one leg up high into it. Her box literally lunged outward in full display. Neil started for her but she held up a hand.

"No. I want you to see if you can do this too," she instructed.

Neil stood a few feet in front of her and lifted his leg up to the bar. It was a strain but he managed to duplicate her position. One foot on the bar almost straight out to his side. His erect cock poked stiffly up and out Then she grinned like a mischievous child and started to edge closer and closer.

He watched intently as her outstretched cunt moved to within an inch of his pounding cock. Then she arched her back and the hair-capped slit pressed forward to touch softly against his leg. She was too short, or he was too tall. Either way, it wasn't a match-up.

But Neil enveloped her in his arms and brought his leg off the bar. She squirmed and hummed as he maneuvered his purple cock head down to her box. She kept her leg on the bar as he lifted up the wet skin and eased inside. The yawning lips accepted him with a tight, hot squeeze.

"Ummmmmmm," she sighed in his ear. "That's exactly how I like it"

His cock moved deep inside her as she gracefully swayed her hips and ass back and forth. Her cunt was wide open to his penetration, it took his whole length of muscle with ease and slick juiciness.

Neil slipped his hands around the smooth fullness of her ass and pulled her slowly gyrating body in tight to his. She laid her head on his shoulder and breathed heavily in his ear as he dipped up and down with each stab of his hotly squeezed pole.

"Turn," she whispered. "Put your back to the bar." Neil swung around and before he knew it she lifted her other leg up and onto the bar. He now was holding her up with his two hands – each clamped tightly under a soft, full bun of her ass. She was light, hardly anything to hold, but the full pressure of her box on his spike was increased by a great degree.

He lifted her ass and let it drop. She slid up and down his cock. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled herself up and down. The tight grip of her crammed-full pussy sucked the length of his deep-penetrating pecker.

"Oh. that's good," she sighed. "You're so far inside me I can't swallow."

Neil was encouraged and began a series of bouncing thrusts inside her. She gasped with each painful pump of cock but let him know she was enjoying every bit of it.

"You're so good! So damned good!" she cried. "Are you sure you're not a dancer?"

"No… I don't dance," Neil answered. "But I sure do like this step."

Her feet left the bar and she hungrily wrapped her legs around his waist Neil felt even more pressure of her box as it weighed down on his shaft. He had to bounce her up and down with the help of his legs and hands now. She jerked up only a short way, then pounded back down on him. Her tongue was lashing all around his neck, inside his ear, and across his shoulders.

Then he began to tire. The position was too much strain for him. Miss Touffle noticed as soon as his thrusts started to slow. She unwrapped her legs and lifted herself off his cock.

She backed out to the middle of the room and knelt down. Then he watched as she bent herself back and the hot mound of her cunt once more was thrust forward. She arched back until her head rested on the floor, she was bowed in a graceful curve with only her high pubic patch interrupting the smooth line.

Neil knew what to do. He kneeled between her knees and worked his dripping pecker inside the gaping slit until once more he found the warm heat of full entry. All he had to do was jerk his hips up and down to send long, grating strokes inside her vulnerable box.

He rubbed his hands across the smooth flesh of her stomach up to the stretched nipples of her breasts. The meat of her tits was pulled back flat but the nipples grew and responded to his twisting squeeze.

"Yes!" she was crying from her faraway mouth.

Neil's cock rasped hard against her erect clitoris each time he plunged inside her. Her arched body was humping, trembling, squirming with each delicious thrust. He saw her body growing wet, perspiring, heating up with the fever of his fast, furious fucking.

He moved his hands back to the meat of her ass and clamped her box even tighter over his jamming rod as he felt the boiling rise of his cream. Then her legs somehow shot out from under her to stretch behind his pumping ass. Again he held her in midair as his cock worked deep inside her sweltering box.

She kicked her feet helplessly in the air as he held tight to her hips and pumped her back and forth on his red stick. She was moaning, gasping, crying large tears which trickled down her forehead.

"Oh! You're driving me crazy!" she screeched. "It feels so good!"

Her strong legs clamped fiercely around his hips and squeezed with amazing force as she hugged him at full depth. Her body bolted as if it was electrically charged as a wild, whipping orgasm rumbled through her. She was balanced on her head and used it to pivot her wide, washing sweeps from side to side. Neil felt his cock rubbing hard against each wall of her clapping, applauding, jumping cunt.

Then he exploded. It felt like burning sand was being shoveled from his pecker head as the hot cream sprayed her insides like an unattended garden hose. His legs stiffened and he almost came to a stand as he lifted up and over her in the throes of his pleasure. She kept herself clamped around his hips and simply rode him out while still balancing on her head.

Each wracking pump of his cock made him stand that much taller. When his pecker finally drained she was hanging down from him, with his cock painfully bent down inside her tight-gripped hole. He slowly dropped to his knees and felt the hold of her muscular legs relax.

She dropped onto her back and let her legs flop to the floor. She was exhausted. Her breathing hadn't returned to normal and her chest heaved with each satisfied gasp. Neil's cock flopped- free and dripped semen onto her stomach. She rubbed the sweet cream lazily into her flesh.

"Oh, Neil, I haven't had anything so good in such a long… Please, anytime you feel like it, just ring my bell. I'll do anything you ask. Anything. I'll suck that beautiful rod of yours, I'll lick you from head to toe, I'll rub you down with Vaseline and fuck every part of your body… I'll eat you in every hole you've got. Just ring my bell…"

Neil dressed as she mumbled on incoherently. She was spread eagled in the center of the floor as he walked by and nodded his goodbye.

"You will ring, won't you?" she asked.

He nodded again and smiled like a hero should. "Maybe next week."

When he got back to the pool area to put his tools away he saw Christine. She was lying by the pool in a brief yellow bikini. Large gobs of tender breast could be seen around the skimpy cover of the top. The crease under each cheek of her sugar-fleshed ass was well below the cut of the bottom.

He kept himself from lunging at her and chewing the downy meat of her ass and tits until it melted in his mouth. She was built with full, sleek lines and abundant flesh where the generosity was most appreciated. He whistled as he passed and she looked up.

Instead of the look of scorn he would have received a week ago she smiled and batted her eyes. He wanted to rip off the top of her bikini and mash each tit flat with his sucking lips. Instead of doing that, he smiled back at her and felt the shyness of his character return.

"Hi, Neil," she cooed.

"Hi, Christine." He went into the tool room and put his stuff away. As he stood there he cursed himself for his lack of guts. He realized it was one thing to be aggressive with a middle-aged ballerina he cared little about and another thing to make a play for someone he really wanted. But he inhaled and said to himself, This is for you, Mr. Crocker.

She was still there when he returned. He noticed that even more of her breasts was exposed. He felt his throat go dry, his pecker tingle, his stomach felt heavy. He inhaled a deep breath and cleared his throat. Christine looked up expectantly.

"Want to go to movie tomorrow night?" he quickly asked.

She smiled. "Yes, I'd like to."

"Okay. I'll pick you up at seven." He turned on his heels and swiftly walked to the driveway and toward home.