Chapter 4

The house was a big, ranch-style jobber, the kind with everything on one level, kitchen on one end, bedrooms on the other, and the dining and living rooms in the middle. It only took me five minutes to unclog the sink. When I got up, I noticed for the first time that Mrs. Ayres, who was sitting at a formica counter sipping coffee, was giving me that look I know so well.

"Want some coffee?" she asked.

"Sure," I said. I sat down at the counter across from her. She filled a cup for me from the nearby percolator, talking as she did.

"... so when the sink got clogged, I remembered Lois Kranz had mentioned you, that you had done a good job for hers so I called up your boss, Arlotta, and asked for you." A wicked smile had formed on her lips and she raised her eyebrows. I didn't need no ESP to know what was going on in her mind.

Damn! So my rep was spreading. I had been balling Lois Kranz on and off, but I never dreamed she'd call a friend and tell her. No wonder Carl looked at me funny when he sent me out on the job. This Ayres broad, when she asked especially for me, must've sounded horny as hell to him. She sure sounded that way to me. I looked her up and down with interest now.

She was about forty or so, and thin, with short brown hair cut shaggy, like you see on a lot of guys these days. She wasn't really good-looking, but she had little crow's-feet around her eyes and a few lines above her lips that showed she was just beginning to dry up. I know a lot of guys'll think I'm crazy, but this turns me on. I go for the seasoned stuff.

She was wearing a pair of shorts and a white blouse. I could see her bra through it. Her tits weren't big, but they were pointy and jutted out nice. I got a look at her legs when she got up fore more milk. Nice, very thin, but well-shaped. Her hips were narrow and her ass was small but compact. All in all, a nice change of pace from the big, meaty dolls I usually go for. Once in a while I like a thin woman, one who has a small pussy I have to fight my way into. Then, once in, every stroke is an effort, but worth it, as my big cock stretches the tight cunt walls.

She sat back down. "You take milk?"

I nodded. "So Mrs. Kranz liked my work," I said, sipping the coffee.

"Yes." She looked at me hard. "Lois said you're very good."

There was gonna be no beating around the bush with this babe, like with Doris Stanyon. Already her fingers were on my arm, going up and down through the hairs. I put down the coffee cup and rested my forearm on the counter, waiting to see what was next.

"You look like you'd be good," she said.

"Mrs. Ayres--"

"Betty."

"Betty. Listen, Betty, as much as I'd like to, I can't stay around. My boss has been on my tail lately, so even though you look like one hell of a roll in the hay, I gotta be going. But maybe we can get together."

She blushed, but her fingers didn't stop walking up and down my arm. "But it isn't for me," she said. She looked at me with crazy, narrowed, twinkling eyes.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "You mean I got you figured wrong?"

"No, not exactly," she said. She leaned forward until her nose almost touched mine, and said in a loud whisper, "You turn me on, all right, baby, but right now I'm thinking you'd be just great for somebody else I know."

This I couldn't understand. I've seen a lot of things, but never a horny broad trying to fix me up with some other broad. I smiled back at her; this was getting interesting.

"Who is this party?" I asked.

"My daughter."

Daughter? I almost fell off the stool. Now I'd heard everything.

"I don't get you," I said, in a hoarse voice that reflected my uncertainty and growing excitement.

"You look like a man of the world, Pete," she said. "What would you think if I told you I have a sixteen-year-old girl-- she's in her room right now--who's dying to meet you?"

I didn't know what to say. True, my cock was swelling in my pants, but other than that I didn't feel sexy. Just amazed and even shocked at this pimping mother.

"You see, Pete, she's just a young girl and I want her to learn about sex from me, in her home. I don't want her going out with some hippies and learning about it at a pot party, or something worse. So I thought that this would be the best way. And Hope--that's my daughter--agrees. She knows all about it. In fact, she's waiting right now for an answer. What do you say? Won't you help me show my little girl about life before she goes out and learns the hard way?"

A reasonable request from a concerned mother. Shit! This broad was nuts, or something. I could tell because, on top of her crazy request she was beginning to look funny, like just the thought of me fucking her kid was really turning her on. Her eyes were glazed, sort of, and her fingers were now clutching at my arm.

"She's cherry, Pete, I know you'll like her. A cute ass on her, too--looks just like I did twenty-five years ago. Come on, Pete, please. When do you think you'll have a chance like this again, to break in a cute, young girl like Hope? Do you want to meet her. I can call her in."

As nutty as she was, and her daughter too, for that matter, I suddenly stopped thinking and worrying about the state of her mind. After all, it takes all kinds. And by now my cock had won out. I was practically drunk with the strange excitement I was feeling. Busting a cherry, and with the mother looking on. God!

"OK," I said, sliding off the stool, "let's meet her. Where's your husband, by the way?"

"Don't worry about him. He doesn't get home from the city 'till seven." Her eyes went down to my crotch, which was bulging. Again, a strange, crazy look came over her. "Follow me," she said.

We went into the living room, which was large and loaded with plush furniture, a thick green carpet, and paintings of sunsets and oceans on the walls. The large picture window looked out on the street. Betty Ayres went over to it and drew the curtain.

"Hope," she called. "Hope!" Her voice had a cracking, breathless sound to it. I watched her, hoping she didn't notice how crazy I thought she was.

Then I turned to face the far end of the room. Through a wide entranceway came Hope, dressed in a tight pair of jeans and an old, man's white shirt with the tails hanging out over the pants in front and back. She was a bit taller than her mother, five-six maybe. Her face was small and had pointy features; what I could see of it was pretty. But it was all but hidden by her hair, which was parted in the middle and so bushy it hung over the front of her face and fell down her shoulders and chest.

There was more than a little resemblance between Hope and her mother. Cut off her hair and chop off an inch or two and she was the spitting image, right down to her skinny long legs. I suddenly got a picture of both of them standing naked together and my cock throbbed. By now, all thought of Carl and his anger had vanished from my mind.

Hope walked into the room and over to us, swinging her little ass and her arms like so many young girls of her age do. She walked right up to me like she was being introduced to an uncle. She looked up and smiled like a nice, innocent little girl, but there was something in her eyes that reminded me of her mother's nutty, sexy look.

"Hi," she said.

"Hope, this is Pete," Betty said. "He's going to be real nice to you, aren't you, Pete?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, looking Hope up and down. She wasn't too big in the tit department but, like her mother, hers were pointy and had an even better tilt to them. They were actually pointing up!

Well, I could describe the next fifteen minutes but the best part came after that. Let me just say that we spent a little while just talking and warming up to each other, with Betty joining right in. Finally, after Hope had told me for the third time how she wanted to be a nurse, and I said that was nice for the third time, Betty stood up impatiently.

"Well, dear, what do you think? Do you like him? Do you want mama to start explaining things to you?"

The young girl's eyes were fixed on my crotch. She slowly nodded her head and then, suddenly, crossed her arms in front of her and pulled the shirt up over her head. She looked at me and grinned.

"Now stand up and take off your pants, dear," said Betty. The mother had sat down again, so that she was on one side of her daughter and I was on the other.

Hope stood and unzipped the side of her jeans. As she pulled them down she kept her eyes on mine.

Then she was in just her bra and panties. She had a wild body, tall and willowy and firm and brown. She stood there, smiling and blushing slightly as she took in my greedy stare. Then she glanced at her mother.

"Go on, baby," Betty Ayres said, "take off the rest."

Hope reached around and unclasped her bra. Her small tits fell forward and they were just as nice as I had imagined, erect and firm, with small, rigid brown nipples that were aimed at the ceiling.

Then her hands played over them and went down the solid length of her abdomen to the elastic of her white panties. She hooked her thumbs under at each hip and, looking me right in the eye, slowly drew them down, stopping when just a thin line of pussy hair showed and grinned at me, then bringing them all the way down to her knees. She may have had no experience but she sure knew how to strip for a guy. This little bopper was a real natural. My cock was now a big log running down my right thigh under my pants.

"OK, Hope, now come over and kneel in front of Pete. Pete, why don't you stand up?" Betty was gonna be calling the shots, I could see that. But I didn't mind. I got up off the couch and Hope got down on her haunches in front of me. Betty leaned forward on the couch so that her face was looking around my hips at my crotch.

"Hope, unzip his fly and reach inside," the mother said. Her voice was growing more and more hoarse.

Hope reached up and took hold of the zipper and slowly pulled it down. Then she slipped her fingers in and awkwardly felt around for my cock. Her fingers went through the slit in my shorts and snaked through my hair. A confused look formed on her face.

"Where... where is it?" she asked.

I took hold of her wrist and guided her hand to my thigh. Then her fingers found the thick meat of my prick. She played up and down lightly for a second or two. There was a big grin on her face, which was somewhat red.

Betty shifted impatiently in her seat. "Come on, Hope, bring it out where we can see it," she said.

So Hope grabbed hold of my rod at the base and twisted it through the two layers of cloth and then it was out, standing hard and long and thick, with a few twists of black hair peeping out of my fly, the head dark purple.