Chapter 2

It was still early for a Sunday, around 10:00. It was weird somehow, because I usually spend weekends at my granny’s place, I’m never at Mom’s house on Sundays.

There was no one downstairs. I felt out of place, as if I wasn’t myself; as if this body wasn’t mine. My body didn’t feel like this, all sore and used. I was the geekish girl, prone to be voted “Least likely to have sex before marriage”.

There were odd sounds from upstairs. I realized that mom wasn’t alone.

She was a beauty. Mom had perfect glossy hair, big breasts, and a reasonably tight ass. She dressed sharply, and I knew she had lovers. I knew men came to the house when I wasn’t there, I could smell them sometimes, I saw small things that had moved or tire tracks in the driveway that weren’t from our car. I knew about her hidden lingerie drawer too.

I wondered what kind of guy it was; older, as old as Mr. Lewinski? Someone from her office?

I felt betrayed, although I had no right to be. I’d just betrayed my whole family and all who cared about me, all for peer pressure.

I left, and went to spend the day with one of the girls. Martin was never around on weekends, he was either playing basketball somewhere or in his own neighborhood on the other side of town.

The next weekend rolled around, and I didn’t want to go to my grandma. I kept thinking of old Mr. Lewinski; not about the sex, but about just hanging out with him. Somehow, he seemed to understand me, to care about me.

I bicycled to near his apartment, then walked to the door. I wasn’t sure what to do; I was afraid, I knew I should get back on my bike and go to my granny’s place. Impulsively, I rang the bell.

“Yes?” asked the familiar voice, crackling through the cheap speaker.

“It’s Haley.”

There was a pause.

“What do you want?” he asked.

I wasn’t sure what to say.

“I don’t know.” I said truthfully.

“Are you alone?” he asked.

“Yes.” I said.

The door buzzed and I went upstairs.

He was old, yet there was something about him; I felt a weird connection with him. It was the sex I supposed; it was that secret we shared, that dark dirty intimate secret.

“What’s that you have?” he asked.

“My overnight bag.” I said.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, and I realized that he’d assumed I’d packed it with the intention of spending another night with him.

“Open it.” He said.

“Why?” I asked.

“I want to see what’s in it.” He said.

I opened it up and dumped out the contents; a couple of books, a change of clothes, toiletries.

“What did you expect?” I asked, seeing his odd expression as he looked at my things.

“Nothing.” He said. “I’m just surprised. Most of the girls ... well, they just close their eyes and wait until it’s over. But you ... you actually came back for more.”

“I just wanted ... to talk to you.” I countered.

He looked at me curiously, his bushy white eyebrows squirreling around on his forehead.

“Ok.” He said. Come here for a moment.”

He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly, passing his hands down my back, over my ass, between my thighs. I realized he was patting me down; he was checking to see if I was wearing a “wire”!

I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You’re paranoid.” I said.

“Of course I am.” He answered.

“How long have you been ... you know. Having this deal with the girls.”

“It started almost twenty years ago.” He said, letting me go. “You want something? What about pancakes?”

“Ok.”

“Take your clothes off while I make them.” He said.

It was warm in the apartment, and somehow the idea of being naked in his place didn’t bother me.

We had breakfast and chatted. I felt oddly at home, comfortable with this old man, even though I was wearing nothing but my panties and my glasses. My breasts felt odd, unaccustomed to exposure. Yet for the first time, I felt good about them, proud even. Yes, they were small compared to most of the other girls in my classes, but they clearly pleased Mr. Lewinski; and he was a man, an experienced adult. Very experienced.

We talked about nothing really, yet it was important that we did talk; that I could talk to someone, and he would listen.

We moved to his small living room and sat on the sofa. He put his arm around my naked shoulders and pulled me close so he could kiss me.

I didn’t really want to make out with him; but I didn’t mind either. It obviously pleased him to touch me, to hold and kiss me. It was friendly and nice.

“How did it start?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you if you really want to know.” He said, standing up to take off his shoes and trousers. “Here, rest your head in my lap.” He said as he sat down again.

I lay with my cheek against his flaccid dick and he stroked my hair. It was secret and intimate; no one knew I was here. No one would ever know I was here. There was freedom in that, freedom to do anything, to explore myself, my desires, my impulses.

“I didn’t start it.” He said. “It was a student, a girl. She used to hang around after school. I guess she caught me staring at her. She was a pretty thing, always dressed in bright colors and short skirts. We talked, flirted even. She told me she was stressed out about the coming exams.”

I felt the old janitor’s cock swell under my face as he thought about his first compromised schoolgirl, all those years ago, before I was even born. I slid away a little and reached up with my hand to pop it into my mouth.

It felt good to suck his cock; the way it filled my mouth so naturally. It made me think that it was an extra biological function of the oral cavity. As well as eating, drinking, speaking, kissing, and breathing, my mouth was obviously also made to suck cock. A bonding function, like grooming. His old penis filled my mouth, reaching right into the back. You couldn’t fill your mouth like this with food and swallow it; so what was the back of the mouth built for? It couldn’t be coincidence that a penis fit inside so perfectly, or that it felt so good there.

“I was cleaning the teacher’s office that night when I came across the exam paper. Not the answer sheet, just the prepared questions. I thought to myself, well, that would ease my friend’s anxiety. I took a copy and gave it to her.”

I rolled over so I was face down, and lifted my weight up onto my elbows. I took the base of his penis in my hand as I began to bob my head up and down over it. This was fun! So sexy and forbidden, doing it with an old man! I was bulletproof with his thing in my mouth, nothing could harm me. I sucked contentedly and he stroked my back and ass with his fingers as he continued.

“She thanked me several times, and eventually asked me to get her another paper. I said no; I could lose my job. She said she could meet me somewhere private, my place perhaps. I was younger then, I wasn’t bad looking. The girl had a little crush on me perhaps. Don’t stop now darling, you’re doing good there. Anyway, she came here, to this apartment. We had sex, and I gave her the paper. It went on for a few months, she seemed to like being with me. Maybe she did, I don’t know, but then she lost interest in me, she was dating a kid her own age by then. That was when she started the club. She got other girls to come up here, to satisfy my needs; and I kept them supplied with exam papers. Slowly, it became a system.

“Do you want me to come in your mouth, honey?”

I stopped for a few seconds, considering the question. Why not? It seemed a good time to try that.

“Uh huh.” I said without taking it out of my mouth.

“Reach under and tickle my balls then.” He instructed. “Oh yeah, that’s good baby. I was sure I’d get caught. But you have to understand, I was addicted by then. The thrill, the danger of it, the sex with hot young teenagers like you ... I kept going, and the girls kept coming. The older girls recruited younger ones, handing over as they graduated.”

I was only half paying attention to his story now as I concentrated on his quivering cock, slipping in and out of my mouth, tickling the back of my throat, so potent and male, so powerful, yet all mine. I sucked him hard, waiting eagerly for my reward, my first mouthful of semen.

He suddenly grabbed my head, holding me still as he grunted and shivered. His come spewed into my mouth, hot and sweet, squirting out of his penis in hard short bursts. There wasn’t very much, yet it was incredibly powerful. My first mouthful of come, hot and alive, male fluid, man milk. My stomach churned with conflicting emotions, horror mixed with delight, pride and shame at the same time.

“Swallow it.” he demanded, “Always swallow it. It’s good for you.”

That sounded like bullshit, but I did it anyway.

I suddenly realized my mother had gone to the same school, and had gotten knocked up in her third year. She could have been one of Mr. Lewinski’s girls.

I lay naked in his bed as he massaged my back and neck. I rolled over so he could play with my tits and lick my vagina. He got hard again, and I lifted my knees as he kneeled between them and pushed it in.

Oh, that felt good! Why was I here? Why did I come back? I wasn’t sure.

His stiff penis slid into my young body, tickling, pleasing, terrifying, and as he pressed his pelvis against me, it found that spot, the magic button way up inside.

I realized that I’d been fooling myself. I didn’t want to talk, or eat pancakes, or even suck cock. This was what I wanted, fucking!

Had he really had sex with my mother? Did it matter? He was having sex with ME now. Haley, the good girl; the geek, straight A student, didn’t smoke, drink, or swear. His old body heaved above me, driving his cock deep into my skinny teenaged frame as I wrapped my legs around his hips. I was burning for him, with him, I was writhing around his stiff rod, reveling in the feeling of it, of him, of his dirty passion. His stiff curly chest hair scratched against my smooth breasts, his strong old hands held me tight as he did his thing. He grinned at me through his yellowed teeth, his eyes had no age and his hot stiff penis touched the spot at the end of each stroke.

I hated what I was doing, I despised myself for it. Yet I’d snuck up here instead of going to my gran’s place, I wanted this more than I abhorred it.

I opened my mouth as I kissed him, and I began to COME. It was so good, so good to feel that orgasm, to know it was so wrong, so depraved, so BAD!

As the hot guilty pleasure overcame me, I felt him ejaculate inside me. It made my own experience seem doubly intense; we were one, coming together, an old man and a young girl, so different yet so much alike, trapped together in our dark secrets.

My mother was a slut. She’d surely been a slut in high school too [after all, she did get knocked up]. My mother had graduated with straight A’s, yet she didn’t seem all that smart.

I started spending Saturday nights with Mr. Lewinski. My mother assumed I was with my grandma, but no one actually asked where I was. Everyone was too busy with their own secrets and lies to notice mine.

He was very particular; I had to be naked or wear just underwear while I was at his place. And wear high heels, always high heels. I didn’t have any, but he got me some; I kept them there, and put them on when I arrived. He always wanted sex as soon as I got there; not necessarily full sex, but at least some cuddling and a little blow job, only he rarely came during it. He liked to touch me with his hands, feeling me up all over, and he liked kissing. Then he would relax for a while.

And whenever I felt doubt, when I wasn’t sure I wanted to be there, I could just stare into his eyes for a while, and then it was all ok. His evil eyes, that penetrated deeper than his hard penis ever did.

And then the part I was waiting for, the reason I was there; after hours of blah blah, teasing, flirting, and touching, he’d push me down onto my back and slide his old cock into my wet young vagina, and it would get to the button, and I would COME.

And then I’d know peace. My mind would slow, the noise stopped, anxiety went to zero. Colors were sharper, the night was beautiful, life was good.

I wanted to be with Martin, to have sex with him too. I was sure his big cock and powerful gorgeous body would do it for me, and break me away from the old man. But he always had to be somewhere else on the weekend, and even though we hung out together every day after school, even though we spent time alone in my room studying, he would never go all the way with me.

So on Saturday, I’d creep back to the old man’s apartment. I’d check to see there was no one around to see as I rang his bell and slipped into his building.

He talked to me; he told me things. Silly things, important things, it didn’t matter. The point was he had time for me.

As long as I was mostly naked and willing to submit to his needs in return of course.

I think it was the third weekend I was with him, when he kissed me and tasted a cigarette on my breath.

“What the fuck, have you been smoking?” he demanded, pushing me away.

“I just wanted to try it.” I said.

June had shared her smoke with me. I’d just wanted to be cool, one of the “in” crowd, so I went for it.

“Are you out of your mind?” he admonished me, “Nicotine is as addicting as cocaine! It stinks, saps your strength, gives you cancer. Smoking cigarettes is about the stupidest thing you can do!”

“Yes DAD.” I said sarcastically. Who was he to tell me off for my secret habits? He was one of them.

He looked shocked, then angry. “WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?” he growled.

Suddenly, I was afraid. The brash confident girl who smoked cigarettes and had sex with older men disappeared, and I was just a teenaged girl. In high heels and a transparent blue teddy.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me over his lap as he sat down on the sofa.

“Dad you say? So I’m like your father then am I? Well I’ll just have to treat you to some parental discipline!”

And the next thing I knew, his rough hand slapped my naked little ass, HARD.

“Ow!” I complained.

Whack!

“Hey!”

Whack!

“eek!”

Whack!

“Stop it!”

Whack!

“Let me go!”

Whack!

It hurt; it was humiliating. It was upsetting.

As I looked back on it later, I realized I never tried to get away, and I probably could have. He was much stronger than me, but he couldn’t have held me there if I’d really tried to escape his fierce open hand. I just lay there across him, my face hanging just above the floor and my whole body shuddering with each impact, my ass burning from the punishment.

He was right of course; I knew he was right. I shouldn’t have smoked that cigarette, it was gross. He had a hardon, I could feel it growing against my belly. The old bastard was turned on by spanking my ass, and to be honest, the feeling was mutual.

He stopped, breathing heavily. I didn’t move, I wasn’t sure what I should do. I’d never been spanked before. His hand came down on again, but gently this time, softly tickling my burning ass. His finger slipped down, brushing my vagina.

“Get in the bedroom.” He demanded quietly, lifting me up by the shoulder. “Face down on the bed.” He added as he followed me. I heard his zipper opening as I leaned over his bed and spread my legs, my feet still on the floor, waiting for his hard old dick in excited anticipation.

He grabbed one cheek in each hand and pulled my rear open as he pushed his stiff blunt cock against my entrance. He slid in easily; I was soaking wet inside.

It was awkward in the heels, and I was still wearing the teddy, but neither of those got in his way as he rammed me from behind, giving it to me strong and fast.

I could feel his naked penis inside me, pushing into me, invading me, occupying my vagina, inhabiting my body as if he owned me. It was vile, degrading, and my rear was burning from the spanking too.

But it was good; it was so damn sexy, so erotic, so cheap and mean and nasty!

What would mother say if she knew? Would she still be so proud of her fancy job, her nice car, her achievements, if she knew that her only daughter was enduring cheap exploitative sex with the school janitor? Would she notice me then, notice my loneliness, my pain?

Probably not.

His penis was on the button, my mind heated and swelled as the feeling overcame me. He began to stiffen and grunt the way he does when he comes, his fingers digging hard into my hipbones for grip as he rammed his old cock deep. I knew I was about to feel that familiar invasion of foreign fluid, that hot deep gush of his inactive ejaculate. I CAME, my face in the bed and my ass in the air, his stiff rod squirting his stuff right into the middle of it.

Ah, peace at last. His anger was gone, my transgressions forgiven, the sheet felt wonderful against my skin, and there was nothing at all left to worry about.

He kissed my neck affectionately, then pulled his penis from my motionless body. His semen trickled down the inside of my thigh.

He’d had a vasectomy, but when exactly? If it was less than 16 years ago, and he had really fucked my mother, he could be my father. It was possible.

“See you next week.” I said later, as I was about to leave.

“I really like you Haley, but what will I tell the other girls? That I don’t need them anymore because Haley is here by choice?”

“No.” I said sullenly.

“Come on, you’re just fooling around with me.” He pointed out, “What will I do when you stop coming here, if I’ve broken the system? I’m 67 years old, I can only do so much. Last week I was barely able to get it up for that sweet little redhead after you emptied me out.”

“So you don’t want me to come here next week?”

“I do, but bring one of your friends, maybe we’ll have a threesome.” He suggested optimistically.

I didn’t want my friends to know I was fucking him by choice, so I sat in on the planning in Gloria’s bedroom, and kept quiet.

There wasn’t much to say; there was only one girl in the group who hadn’t paid her membership dues yet. Jyoti.

She sat silently, head bowed, terrified.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” I told her, “We all did it; and we’re all fine, right girls?”

Everyone nodded and agreed. “It’s no big deal.” June said, “You just do what he tells you, it’ll be fine.”

“Geni even liked it.” Gloria claimed.

“I did not!” Geni said defensively. “I just didn’t mind too much. He’s just a guy, he gropes you all over and then sticks his dick in you, that’s what guys do.”

“Euwww!” Gloria said in disgust.

“What, he didn’t do the same thing to you?” I demanded. Now that I’d had my night (and more, but they didn’t know that) with our secret benefactor, I had the right to speak up. Gloria was a senior, and had been in the group longer than any of us. She had in fact been in Mr. Lewinski’s bed many times.

“Of course he did.” Gloria said. “Who is going to take Jyoti to John’s place?”

John was a code name we all used.

“I’ll do it.” I said.

“You don’t have a car.” Gloria pointed out.

“We’ll walk.” I said.

It was pretty much the same as my first time; Jyoti knew her time was coming, knew it had to be her turn, but no one had said anything until the very day. It was a time honored system, honed over 20 years. The girl was less likely to try and back out this way. I had three hours to get her ready.

I felt conflicted on several levels; I regretted offering to be the group pimp. Also, I felt a little bit possessive of Mr. Lewinski, he was my lover and even though I wasn’t comfortable with that reality it made me jealous that he was going to do it with Jyoti.

Alone with Jyoti at her house, we sat next to each other and I put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. She was actually shivering.

“Really, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” I said. “Are you a virgin?”

“Please don’t tell anyone.” She pleaded.

“It’s ok, I was a virgin too when I went there.” I said.

“You were? But what about Martin?” she asked.

I realized I shouldn’t have told her, and improvised quickly. “His cock is too big, we only do oral.” I said. “But John is really gentle and experienced too. Just relax, it’ll be great.”

She looked at me with big dark oriental eyes; her black hair gleamed in the soft light. I stroked her head and smiled at her to reassure her. I looked into her eyes, so dark and lovely. She stared back at me, and I saw something there, a brief moment of desire. And then, I don’t know what made me do that, I bent and kissed her.

For a moment, there was bliss; the noise of the world went quiet, my body was flooded with excitement and pleasure. Then she pulled away, looking shocked.

I got up and turned away from her, embarrassed and ashamed. Why had I thought she would want that? Especially under the circumstances.

“When you go there, he doesn’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” I told her, “You can say no anytime.”

“But then the girls will all hate me.” She whimpered.

I sat and put my arm around her shoulders again. She turned her head to face me, tears in her eyes. Damn, she was just so pretty I could hardly stand it.

My mind was spinning a little; was I really gay? It seemed impossible, because a gay girl who is attracted to young pretty girls like Jyoti couldn’t also like getting shafted by dirty old perverts like Mr. Lewinski. I’d come every time he pushed his cock into me, therefore I had to be heterosexual.

“Do it again.” Jyoti whispered, looking into my eyes again, “It was nice.”

I held her face and kissed her mouth gently for a while. It made my tits hard and my pussy wet, it was wonderful. Maybe I was bisexual; I liked the idea of being naked with her, my white body and her brown one would be so beautiful together. Then what? How could we have orgasms without the requisite organ for penetration?

I had the idea that Jyoti wasn’t as into it as I was. We broke apart again.

“Listen, if you don’t want to go to John tonight, I’ll still be your friend.” I told her.

“That’s kind, Haley; but I made a promise. All the other girls really did it?”