"Hungry for boys" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly Joan)

CHAPTER FOUR

I started Friday out with a pair of blue-velvet hiphuggers, my new cowboy boots and a top Jackie had sewed for me herself. Sunglasses. Hair shiny-washed and windblown.

By ten o'clock we were cruising softly up into the hills in his beige Eldorado, Maurice and his wife in the front seat, me and his son in back. And I was flashing on this scene.

Maurice's wife looked only a few years older than I was… maybe five. His son was at least seventeen. He was talking to me about motorcycles, trailbikes, motocross. Todd Lomax. Every bit as beautiful as Scott but two years older. Poor Shelby. I bit my lip and smiled politely not giving a damn about motorcycle jumping.

Todd was at least six feet tall and close to one-sixty. Big for his age. He continually wiped black hair from his eyes and smiled at me crookedly. It seemed to be his only smile. Probably practiced it in front of the minor for effect. Remembering Scott's blond hair above and below, I wondered if Todd would be as dark down there as he was on top.

Maurice's wife, Catherine was a toned-down redhead. Hair in a cultured bun. I could see her at the symphony or attending some art exhibit, Maurice grey and stately by her side. She seemed to be showing him off to me. Catherine Lomax was very polite to me, but I had the impression she held back and wanted me to know it. One didn't talk in the same manner to a social inferior.

Maurice either did not notice or pretended he didn't. He joked and carried on about a wonderful bargain he'd managed a month earlier on a houseful of old furniture. His warmth warmed me. And I couldn't help but wonder if he had always been so well off.

Holdenville was off the highway three or four miles. A couple of bars, a dusty museum, a gas station and some business establishments down the main street. I loved it right off. And the shop was as cozy as the town. Jammed with tasteful antiques, chairs hanging from the ceiling, glass cases of precious items from the past. I bubbled over with joy and let Maurice know it. He was pleased. His wife glanced at me warily, wondering perhaps if I was a dope-smoking crazy. The leader of a female motorcycle gang? Son Todd hung close by, brushing my breast accidentally on one occasion and sending chills to the back of my brain. I swore silently to keep my mind on business. Lately I had a way of attracting the cocks.

"Well then, I assume you'll take the job?" Maurice folded his arms.

"You got yourself a girl!" I clapped my hands and beamed.

Todd bumped my breast again. Accidentally? "You haven't even seen the house. It's at the back of the shop."

We went back through a kitchen and a small glassed-in porch that overlooked a stream. Flowers everywhere. Shading pines. Two bedrooms, the biggest I chose for my own.

"Oh God, what can I say?"

Maurice took out a notebook and jotted something. "I'll go over the books with you on Monday, show you how to keep records of sales." He looked at me. "You'll be driving your own car up?"

I thought of poor Volksy and the blue smoke he left behind but nodded. "I guess so."

"Then it's settled." We shook hands, Catherine hovering with an air of… what? I couldn't pinpoint it. A vague disapproval. I wondered if she might talk about me later to Maurice. Who gave a damn? I had the job.

On the way back to Albuquerque Todd talked about the fishing around Holdenville. He seemed so sure of himself, not shy at all like Scott. But Scott was younger.

"I come up and take a trailbike out to the boonies. There's a couple of good ponds up higher with rainbow." He looked blatantly at the cleavage of my tits. I liked men to notice my tits, but with Maurice there in the front seat I was edgy. Just because Scott had happened into my life I wasn't out to make a raid on the junior-high and high-school crowd. Or was I?

"Do you come up to Holdenville in the summer?" Just making conversation.

"Yeah, I was kinda glad you didn't take the small room. That's the one I use when I come fishing." I swallowed. So Todd came up fishing. Slept in the small bedroom just off the kitchen. Innocent. I dug my nails against my palm. There was the oddest little tingle down around the place where the silken band of my panties cut up into my cunt. I found myself staring at Todd's lap, wondering how big his cock was.

Catherine turned, put her elbow on the back of her seat. Her smile was affecting kindness but condescending as hell.

"Do you have a boy friend, Shelby?"

"Not at the moment." I smiled condescendingly back, letting her imagine the fun I have fucking all kinds of guys.

"Been married?"

"I don't think I'm the marrying type."

"Oh you'll find someone. Marriage can give you things you just can't find any other way."

Not three blocks from the apartment, Todd Lomax gave me a come-on look. There was nothing ambiguous about it at all. His eyes said, baby I want to fuck you. I managed to keep my expression neutral.

When Maurice stopped the car, Todd insisted on running around the car to open my door. As I leaned back into the Eldorado to thank Mr. Lomax, his son touched my ass. It wasn't a pat, just a passing brush of palm on the tight blue velvet.

"Seeya," Todd said as I stepped to the sidewalk.

I could have given him a warning look, a frown of mild disapproval. After all I was working for his father, I was quite a bit older than my employer's son. But I smiled instead. Not much really, just a quick goodbye pleasantry. And that was, of course, too much. Shelby the Ultimate Fuck Off. I hurried upstairs to the apartment, thankful when I found it empty. I stripped off my hot things and started a bath. Then, sitting naked on the sofa waiting for the tub to fill my hands fell to my lap, my fingers combed the brown tangle that hid my pubes.

"Cool it, Shelby," I said to the walls. But my cunt was already damp with expectation. Too easily a finger slipped into my cunthole. My clit jumped, and I rubbed it in a shameless way, pretending that in a moment or two I would go and check the water. Before I could think that far ahead, I was panting. I could see Todd and Scott fighting over me in some mountain meadow as I waited in silken gown for the winner to fuck me forever.

I parted my thighs shamelessly and stroked the slick folds of my pussy. The meat of my thighs trembled as I extended my toes and held them just off the rug. The finger-fuck was starting to feel good… really good.

The sound of the key in the door shamed me into running for the bathroom. I locked myself in and scalded my feet getting into the tub.

"You home, Shelb?" It was Jackie, rattling a paper sack.

"Yeah," I managed to get out. I was not in good shape. I turned on the shampoo spray and directed cold water against my pussy. It shocked me breathless, but I held it there until I felt cooled down some. Then I turned it warm and wet my face and tits. What the hell had happened to my high-flung plans of getting my head together?

My Volkswagen made the mountainous ascent to Holdenville without too much trouble. I was so relieved that I treated the hot little bugger to a fresh quart of oil and put him away underneath a big cottonwood at the side of the store. I let myself into the shop with the key Maurice had given me and tossed my purse on the glass-topped sundries case.

"Shelby! I'm glad you're here." I jumped. Mr. Lomax rose from behind a mahogany chest of drawers. He had a rag in his hands. "I was just puttering. Dusting a bit here and there."

"I didn't see your car."

"Todd and Warren have it. They had some things to pick up at the mercantile." He smiled apologetically. "The boys were adamant that I bring them up with me for some fishing. Especially Todd." He gestured with his head towards the back rooms. "Todd stays in the small room usually, but I told the boys that Warren should have it this time. Todd can sleep in the bunk in the shed." He smiled broadly. "And this is only if you approve of putting up with them, of course."

"Warren? You have two sons?"

"Oh, how stupid of me." He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "I just forgot to mention it, that's all. Yes, Warren is Todd's half brother. Catherine is Warren's mother."

I was still at a loss. "How old is Warren?" I felt like biting my tongue off.

"Eighteen two months ago." He saw me doing some mental calculation. "I married Catherine when she was twenty-two. She became pregnant light away."

I was still figuring, came up with thirty-six give or take.

"She looks very young for her age," I said, knowing I wouldn't look that good when I got to thirty-six.

"Yes, she's a very beautiful woman." Maurice had said it matter-of-fact. He glanced around the shop, walked to an old desk.

"Have you decided about the boys?" he asked. "It really won't be for more than a week. They'll be tired of fishing by then."

"Oh," I said, remembering, "I don't mind, really I don't."

"Like I said, I've made it clear to Todd that he sleep in the bunk in the shed." Easy laugh again. "He's the noisy one. I know that Warren in the spare room won't intrude much. He's a quiet boy."

"Todd is your son by your first wife?" Again I wanted to bite my tongue, but I had grown more and more curious of Maurice Lomax's background.

"Yes. She had Mexican blood. Todd is very light in spite of that." He looked at the ceiling as if he might be glancing back into the past.

Outside the Eldorado pulled up in a cloud of dust.

"Well, the boys are back. I must be getting back to the city." He hugged my shoulders. "If any problems come up, please contact me at the number on my card. Your sales ledger is in the drawer behind the counter. There's nothing to running an antique shop really except reading what people might be looking for." He laughed.

I was watching Todd and Warren pull their gear out of the trunk of Maurice's car. Packs, canteens. Some fishing gear. As soon as their father said goodbye and drove away, they straggled into the shop. Todd introduced me to Warren. He was a slight, reddish-blond boy with his mother's wide mouth and delicate features. He glanced shyly up at me. The look was reminiscent of Jackie's brother Scott.

"Glad you don't mind us staying," Todd said. He looked as if he were on the verge of winking at me. Impudent shithead. I knew I'd been nutty to smile at him after that asspat a week before. Warren came nowhere near his half-brother's six feet, but he did come within an inch or two of my five-seven. Slender, untanned arms. His shirt was unbuttoned down the front like his Todd's. When the boys dragged their gear back towards the rear, I caught the unmistakable odor of marijuana on Todd's clothes.

I grabbed a Coke, sneaking looks at Warren in the small bedroom that opened off the kitchen. His expression was very serious, like he might be going off to fight a battle the following morn.

"You fish a lot?" Innocent enough question, I thought.

"It's okay." Warren didn't look up from whatever he was doing. "Mostly I like to be in the woods. Todd is the one who's crazy about fishing."

He looked covertly at me and went ahead shoving fresh clothes in a drawer.

I went back to the front of the store, took my place behind the counter and started going through the inventory list. I felt good inside, really good.

Before noon I had two customers. Six more came in the afternoon. At four-thirty I decided that things wouldn't pick up any more that day and closed. The sales amounted to one not-very expensive teacup and a pewter ashtray. Not much, but I felt like I was a part of things, part of the antique business. The boys weren't around so I fixed myself a sandwich and a bowl of soup and unloaded my bags from the Volks. Then I wandered down into Holdenville to look things over.

It wasn't much, even less than first met the eye. Many of the storefronts were boarded up or hung with homemade signs… closed. I got a bag of necessities at the market and talked with the nice, elderly storekeeper. I thought of how he was probably about the same age as Maurice Lomax and yet looked infinitely more frail.

On the way back to the shop, I stopped at the Blacksmith Bar and picked up a half-pint of tequila and a six-pack. It was smoky and cool inside. A couple of Chicano boys looked at my legs (tan below cut-off jeans… jeans just long enough to hide my scorpion) and looked back to their pool game.

One rangy cowboy gave me a whiskey wink and tapped his cigarette lighter against the bar. When I didn't acknowledge his attention, he winked again. He was awfully good-looking… and probably just as dumb as his home. I paid and hurried back down the empty, broken sidewalk to the shop.

It grew cool as the sun dipped below the surrounding peaks. A shot of tequila and a lemon made me sleepy, the can of beer knocked me out.

Still no sign of the boys, but then I wasn't supposed to be their nursemaid. I shucked everything but my panties and climbed in bed.

The noise in the kitchen woke me up. Laughter, a girl's high-pitched giggle. Refrigerator door banging. More laughs. I flicked on my bedlight and took a look at the time. Eleven.

With a blanket around my shoulders, I shuffled barefoot down the hall towards the light. Everybody shut up when I stopped in the doorway. Todd, Warren and a girl. Her hair was stringy and tangled long over her shoulders. She had a fat joint poised in her fingers and her eyes had that slap-happy flat look of being stoned.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Lorrie." Todd appeared somewhat sheepish, waved at me with an equally stony expression. Warren got up and pushed his chair under the table.

"I'm going to bed," he told no one in particular.

"Yeah, why don't you go to bed, Warren." Todd yukked it up until Lorrie quieted him with a look. Todd's eyes scanned my bare legs, the curtained edge of the blanket. "Want to get high, Shelby?" I noticed that his hand rested on Lorrie's thigh.

"I was asleep." Not mad or overjoyed. I didn't know how to be really. Warren glanced at me, quickly averted his eyes. I smiled at the group. "Guess I'm awake now."

"Dad never opens his shops before ten." Todd thought this was particularly funny. He took the joint from Lorrie. "So you don't have to worry about getting up early, right?"

"Your father told me ten-thirty." I smiled back into his impudent face. I wondered where he'd found Lorrie, how she was managing this night out. She didn't look much older than Warren.

"Hey, Warren," Todd said, "Lorrie and I are going to use your room. That cot in the shed isn't very wide." He glanced at me to see how I was taking it, then he held the roach out to me. I shook my head, turned to go back to my room.

"Sure you don't want to join the party?" Todd's voice had a note of antagonism in it.

"Sounds like the party is going to get private pretty soon." I snugged the blanket under my chin. Warren went to the door that led out back to the shed where Todd was supposed to be sleeping. To hell with it. I wasn't going to be warden for Lomax's kids. Let them fight it out. And yet, as Warren's blond head disappeared into the darkness outside, I felt a pang. Desire maybe? Okay, sure. I knew I wasn't a saint. Not many saints even liked to fuck, or so I've heard. I went back to my room, closed the door and flicked the light.

Sounds of conversation filtered to me down the hall, but I must have drifted off. The next thing I was conscious of was the rain. Rain and wind. Sheets of wetness tore against my small window, rocked the trees outside. Door opening. Sleepy, so damned sleepy.

I concentrated on letting the other half of the house go its merry way, thought of darkness and the warm, deep bed that cradled me. But there was more movement in the kitchen. The mountains, the newness of everything brought me to wakefulness again. I wrapped my blanket close and went down the hall.

Warren was sitting in a chair with a blanket of his own. His clothes were draped over the back of another chair, dripping puddles onto the linoleum. His hair was matted wetly to his head. He looked up as I came in.

"That damned shed. Todd was supposed to put the window in last summer and never did." He rubbed his hair, flicked drops of water onto the floor. "We'll have to dry out the cot tomorrow."

He looked pitiful there in the cold kitchen. Outside it was pitch black and the wind was streaking rain hard across the windows. I glanced at the door to Warren's room. No light underneath. Todd had pulled off a neat trick all fight, very neat. Warren saw the direction of my look and pressed his lips together, nodding in silent agreement.

"Hey, come on back to my room."

"You can dry off." My eyes glimpsed one bare, white shoulder. "You'll catch a cold sitting in here for the rest of the night."

He followed me shyly, dragging the corner of his blanket on the floor. I closed my door and, keeping my blanket snug around my neck, I found a towel, tossed it to him. He caught it, almost let go the blanket. I caught the faint blur of cock and balls, the shine of sparse blond curls.

"My dry clothes are all in my room," he said grimly. "I couldn't go in there…" I sensed the fear he felt, there were rules between his half-brother and him. Spoken or unspoken, he was bound to them… frightened of reprisal.

"Don't worry about it." I reached for the lamp. "It's a big bed. I won't kick you if you don't kick me."

He grinned, rubbed his wet hair with the towel. The blanket hung crooked enough so that I saw his upper thigh just before the light dimmed and the room went black. The springs seesawed as I got in. I felt Warren's weight, his feet digging under the sheet.

I was wide awake. Lying on my back. Thinking of the male animal only a few inches away. I imagined the lines of his thigh, and before long I could see his uncircumcised cock. Yes, it was uncircumcised, I'd noticed the soft droop of white flesh that completely covered the tip. And what did Warren's cock look like with the foreskin pulled back? Men differed quite a bit. I remembered Scott's not very big prick. Not big, but nice. His cock had felt good inside my cunt, in my hand.

I smiled in the darkness. Funny how I'd never savored the idea of taking a man's cock into my mouth if only because of what might come out of it. And, even after tasting some of Scott's jizz on my fingers, I wasn't sure I could go the whole route of a head jab. But the idea of licking Warren's cock was sending me into trembling spasms of excitement. Because he was younger than Scott? Blonder? Because his cock looked so white and… clean?

I had been so caught up in my own swirling night thoughts that I hadn't noticed Warren's shivering. His teeth were chattering and when I put my hand out and touched his shoulder, I knew he was freezing to death.

"Guess I got chilled out there." He tried to laugh.

"You're going to be sick unless you get warm, come on… just cuddle your back over." There had to be other possibilities, other ways to solve the problem, but it was dark and there was a boy in my bed. At twenty-eight I figured I could handle things okay. But I couldn't.

As soon as Warren's back nestled into the inward curve of my belly and thighs, I was dying to put my hands on him. So I did. To warm him of course.

"God, that feels better." He was still shivering. "You're really warm."

I was also slipping over the line of what some people might call decency. Another shitty word. My hands were on his stomach and chest, and when I hugged him, nuzzled my nose in his still-damp hair, he moved back against me. We fit, Warren somewhat shorter but with the right angles and curves.

"Feel good?" Why did I feel so drunk when I was really sober?

"God, yes."

He showed no special distaste at the way I kept nuzzling in the hair at the nape of his neck. It smelled boyishly funky. Funky damp. I nuzzled more and found skin. There fight before my lips, teasing me. I breathed deep, wondering if I should shut down the generators, hold back on the reins.

Warren's hard little ass was pressed against my cuntmound. I moved my hips ever so slightly. Warren was careful not to move back. He had stopped shivering, was warming to my skin now. Pretending I was checking the heat of his body, I smoothed a palm up his chest, grazed over his nipples.

"You are getting warmer."

"I'll move back over if you want."

"Only if you want to." I touched my nose to the skin at the nape of his neck. "I think I was a little chilly too. You're warming me now."

My hands took off again, brushing his sides, rib bumps, pelvis. He was suddenly very still, like something was happening to him that was a little frightening. I waited until he let out his breath before I pressed my dry lips against his neck. He froze again.

"You smell good." I tried to make it sound innocent, but it wasn't a very innocent thing to say. Smell went with sex like ducks to water. From Warren, silence.

I put my lips close again. No reaction. Warren was more boyish than Scott, his muscles less developed. I let my hand slip further down his belly, pretending again to be simply taking care that he was snug enough. A crisp curl of pubic hair sprang back against my pinky. I held my hand still, feeling the inner rhythm of his body.

I wet my lips and this time pressed them harder onto his neck. My nuzzling had turned into a kiss. I kissed for a long while, letting him realize that there had been no mistake, that Shelby was kissing him on the back of his pretty neck. Yeah, I was way over the line now. I could think only of having Warren under me, of kissing him everywhere…

Again I smiled at my own conflicting desires. Yes, I did want to hold his cock in my mouth. Not when he came, but before. I wanted to suck his prick to excitement and make him cry my name and shoot his come.

"Shelby?"

"Yes, Warren?"

"I think maybe I'd better go back in the kitchen."