Chapter 1

Miss Lane was outside again! Last time, when she had been hanging her laundry to dry, it had taken John several painful minutes to be free from his erection. Now here she was again, this time kneeling in her garden and singing softly to herself. There’s nothing in the world like the way a skirt hangs on a woman’s hips, he mused. It made him want to..., well, he wasn’t sure exactly what. He knew the theory behind sex, of course, but many of the specifics were still a mystery to him. It involved him and her naked, and his penis, he was quite sure.

That could never happen, of course. If anyone even suspected the thoughts in his head, or saw the bulge in his pants, they would think John a monster. Miss Lane and John belonged to the same village. Sex with people from your village was an abominable, irresponsible, criminal act. There was definitely something wrong with him.

John moved to the other side of the fence he was building for her, facing away from the house so he wouldn’t have to see her. He tried to focus on his work, and for a little while, he succeeded. He was nearly ready to drive the next post when he heard a girl’s voice behind him.

“Mom says I should hold that for you while you hammer it in,” Miss Lane’s daughter told him. He looked back to see Miss Lane smiling and waiving at the two of them, pleased that they were working together.

Cathy wasn’t like Miss Lane - she wasn’t a woman yet. She was a couple years younger than John, probably not even capable of conceiving a child yet. But still, despite with her girlish face and singsong voice, Cathy’s body was beginning to blossom. Her skirt, too, had a little bit of that magical shape to it. As she leaned forward to hold the post for him while he swung the sledge, he could almost see down the front of her blouse. In a few short years, some lucky guy in another city would be doing things to Cathy that drove John mad to think about.

With the post in place, John needed an escape. “I’m just going to go take a break by the river for a couple of minutes if that’s okay with you, ma’am,” he yelled to Miss Lane.

“Okay, take your time,” his neighbor yelled back.

“Want me to come with you?” Cathy offered.

“Oh, no, thanks,” John declined. He definitely did not want her with him. He needed to be alone. He needed to take care of his problem.

Cathy stared at him for a moment, in the way girls do. She was an enigma - young or old, he never knew what girls were thinking. “Okay!” She said playfully and wandered toward her mother’s garden.

Deep among the trees, John sighed as he lowered his pants and took hold of his cock. He leaned against a sturdy oak and slid his hand up and down, giving himself relief and pleasure. It was a risk, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t imagine the shame he’d suffer if anyone ever saw him doing this. But it felt too good. And he needed to be free of this frustration, or he would probably end up losing a finger to a work accident.

He closed his eyes and thought about Miss Lane. He imagined her dress falling down and burying his face in her bosom. He tried to erase her face while he stroked himself blissfully: it wasn’t a neighbor whose body he was claiming, but some circuit girl visiting from another town - someone he was allowed to have sex with. He couldn’t do it though: try as he might, it was Miss Lane’s large round breast he was tasting, and Miss Lane’s curvy hips he was grabbing hold of.

He stroked faster. Now it was his sister Tessie on the bed, naked, looking at him longingly as he took position on top of her. No, now it was Brigitte, her big beautiful eyes smiling at him while his cock slid into her wet tight pussy...

John came with a groan. Relief hit him like a sack of wheat while he painted the tree with his sticky white secretions. He kept thinking he was done but then his dick would muster one more spurt - tiny toward the end, but enough to make mess if he wasn’t careful. Finally he wiped his dick with a leaf and pulled his clothes back on.

Tomorrow, John noted to himself, he should find a private spot and do this before coming to work.

John didn’t go straight home: he stopped by town square first. Four foreign girls and their chaperones had just gotten off their truck, and were talking with members of the local Future Generations Council. The girls were travelling a circuit: stopping at several towns, taking sex partners in each, and trying to become pregnant.

“Where are these ones from?” Eddy, John’s best friend, asked in his soft voice, appearing beside him.