Chapter 8

John was always happy to have an excuse to get out, so when his mother prepared a bundle of clothes that needed mending, he volunteered for the errand.

Normally the clothing shop had two or three people working, but today it seemed that Izzy was all alone. John’s dick stiffened when he saw her: he remembered being her chaperone and watching over her while she fucked foreign guys in every way imaginable. And he remembered sharing her warm soft mouth with Henry during his first ever blowjob.

Izzy was in her mid-twenties, but despite all the circuits she’d travelled, she had never had a baby. John had a hard time imagining her with a child. She was beautiful, but unusually skinny. The thought of a baby in her belly seemed comical, and it was hard to imagine one passing between her narrow hips. Even if that happened, he couldn’t imagine her small cone-shaped breasts feeding an infant. They certainly looked appealing to touch though.

“Hello Miss Izzy,” John greeted her. “My mom needs some clothes mended.”

Izzy looked up from the electric sewing machine. She smiled at him. “Just Izzy, John. We’re friends.” She did a quick examination of the clothes he delivered. “About seventy pence? Pick up on Thursday?” John nodded, so Izzy placed the clothes in a basket on a shelf.

She looked him up and down. “You’ve been looking gloomy lately. What’s going on with you?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. She levelled a demanding stare at him. He shrugged and sighed. “I’m a failure as a man,” he confessed.

“What?” Izzy said joyfully. “You haven’t been a man long enough to be a failure. What would make you say that?”

“My sister Edith doesn’t want me to be her prime brother,” John told her.

“John, you’ve got like three or four sisters, and you’re the only boy?” Izzy questioned. “She probably doesn’t want to take you away from the others who need you more.”

John went on. “The Council thinks I’m only good for girls who want a little dick and a quick finish.”

“Oh come on!” Izzy said with disbelief.

“That’s what she said - the foreign girl,” John explained. “That’s what she asked for, and they gave her me. She hated it and was glad it was over so quickly.”

Izzy smiled at him, her prominent cheekbones dominating her face. She made sure he looked her in the eye. “John ... First of all, it sounds like this girl has issues that have nothing to do with you. Secondly, from what I remember, your dick isn’t small.”

John frowned with doubt.

“Come’ere,” she said, and led him behind some stacks of fabrics and materials for a little extra privacy. She put her hand on his crotch, massaging his package to bring his cock to life. Quickly he was painfully hard. Her hand squeezed his unit from outside his pants, methodically taking measure of everything he had down there. He groaned. His balls ached from the contact. He was worried that he might come, then and there.

“Yeah, see? You’re actually a little above average for your age,” she told him. “You’re probably not done growing yet, either.”

Izzy’s kindness was cherished, but it clashed against his self-doubt. “But, the other thing...,” he said.

Izzy considered the situation for a moment. “Watch the door,” she said, and pulled down his pants. “Not a word of this to anyone, okay?” She dropped to her knees. Her hands were on his naked cock and balls. “I’m serious.”