Chapter 1

"God, you're beautiful, Miriam," Roger Trenton said in hushed awe as he stood near the lovely blonde woman. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

"Nonsense," Miriam Dodge softly giggled. "I'm a thirty-four year old English teacher past her prime. Flattery will get you nowhere, Roger."

"You know you're every bit as youthful looking as when you were twenty. Why, if I didn't know better, I'd say you could be my son Mark's older sister."

The handsome, dark-haired man spoke with genuine admiration in his voice as he rapturously studied her magnificently- proportioned body. She was sitting in a relaxed position on a striped blanket, their picnic lunch spread around her like an offering, and her hand was slightly stroking the heavily furred neck of Roger's German Shepherd dog, Buck. Golden sunlight of the abnormally hot Indian summer filtered through surrounding pines and gilded her already tanned form like an admiring spotlight from the Gods. From where Roger stood at the other side of the mossy clearing, the pretty school teacher was the ultimate he had ever desired in a woman, and his leanly muscular thighs throbbed to possess all of her ripely curvaceous flesh.

Miriam Dodge was wearing far less than she really thought to be proper, considering she had hardly known Roger Trenton for more than a month. He was the biology instructor and assistant coach at Logansville High School, and she had met him when she'd joined the faculty in late August, preparatory to the coming school year. Now, in the third Saturday of September, he had convinced her to share a picnic with him in the wooded foothills west of the small Northern California community. She had eagerly agreed, having had enjoyable evening dates with him almost constantly since they'd met. Unfortunately, she had discovered this morning that her only clothes casual enough for mountainous trails were terribly revealing. The thinly sheer blouse barely hid her high-set, widely-spaced breasts whose rose-tipped nipples were clearly etched in the flimsy fabric of her thin brassiere. The taut material tapered down over a thin, girlish waist and flat, smooth stomach to where her hugging pink shorts clung lovingly to her smoothly sloping hips, pulling against the gracefully jutting curves of her thighs. Below the cuff of the faded hot-pants, her legs were long columns of breathtakingly curved flesh which tapered gracefully into thin, well-formed ankles. And as she'd shed her pair of brown leather flats, her slim bare feet with their small toes peeked from where she had curled her ripely tanned legs beneath firmly rounded buttocks.

Miriam's long, satiny blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face that would cause any male to turn his head when she passed. Her azure blue eyes were set slightly apart and her dainty, pert nose was dotted with freckles across its bridge. Her full ripe mouth had the lower lips protruding slightly in an almost perpetual little-girl pout, which added a sensual look to her round dimpled chin and softly tanned satiny complexion. She was a mature blonde Venus that would attract admiring attention from the most discriminating men=8B=8Band envy from women.

She blushed under the frankly brazen gaze with which the older man roamed her lovely body and she squirmed slightly with embarrassment on the blanket. She was aware that her clothes were more suitable to the flat beaches of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, where she had worn them up to her abrupt and shameful flight last June. Her first thought this morning had been to postpone her date with Roger until she could afford some new clothes, but then she had considered how much she wanted to be with him, and she had rationalized that the day was warm enough to allow her to appear so skimpily attired. Besides, she'd told herself as she'd dressed, she wanted to attract him very much and prove to herself that the evil curse she'd been living under had been broken by her flight across America to California.

"Darling..." Roger said softly, "Darling Miriam..."

"P-Please, Roger," she moaned. "Don't call me that."

"But I love you, Miriam. You certainly must be aware of that by now." He clenched his eyes tightly shut for a moment, brushing his hand through his thick black hair. "I think of you night and day, and if I don't say it I swear I'll go mad. Mad, do you hear? I... Love... You!" he said explosively through his teeth.

"You hardly know me, Roger," Miriam replied, swallowing thickly, her throat dry and constricted. "It's only been a month."

"I realize that," Roger sighed heavily. He bent down beside the murmuring stream and slowly revolved a bottle of red wine that was in the cold water, placed there earlier in order to chill it. His voice faltering, he managed to say; "I saw you that first day in the teacher's lounge and I said to myself then that you were the girl for me. I know it sounds foolish and certainly not very mature, but believe me, Miriam, I fell in love with you from the very first sight."

The lovely English teacher found that she was near to crying and she felt warm tears beginning to form around her eyes. She compressed her lips tightly, trying to control her own emotions, for she was truly attracted to this strong and virile man. Buck lifted his magnificent head and gently nuzzled her hand, licking her palm with a softly wet pink tongue as though he understood her distress. She glanced down at Roger's great and ever-present dog, managing to smile slightly in spite of herself.

"We... We better change the subject," she said tenderly as Roger turned and stood up with the wine.

"I'd hate to ruin your day with my maudlin feelings," he replied, his words abruptly clipped, his tone an articulation of his disappointment. "I must seem like an idiot to you now."

"No, Roger," she moaned weakly. "No, you're not. And... And it's not that I don't care for you. I do, I do very much."

"Then what is it?" he demanded, walking over to her.

"It's me." she whimpered, brushing the first real tear from her blurring eyes.

"Fine, just fine," he said sarcastically. He sat down beside her and viciously yanked at the cork of the bottle. "It's not me, which I can be glad about; the problem is with you. I'm not glad about that."

"Roger... Give me time. Please give me a little more time." She lowered her eyes dejectedly, slowly shaking her head as she bit her trembling lip. "Be gentle with me, Roger."

He studied her for a long moment, then reached out for her other, free hand. "Darling, I'm sorry." His deep onyx eyes softened and a warm affectionate smile brought white, even teeth into view. "I guess I'm being selfish. I thought I'd never love another woman after my wife Karen died eight years ago, but now I've found you. I... I want to marry you, Miriam, just as soon as I can."

She was unable to reply, only nodded mutely. She turned his hand so that her palm was against his and pressed gently, her own lovely blue eyes looking up into his. She searched his thin, expressive face with its prominent cheekbones and classic Roman nose, the finely delineated lips and deep dark eyes, and she intuitively knew at the bottom of her soul that he was sincere. He wanted to marry her, and, shockingly, she had to admit that she cared for him. He possessed an affable charm and forceful personality, and with his shirt off and his chest and back rippling with hard muscle, he was one of the most desirable men she had ever known. The urge to shout yes to him was nearly uncontrollable, but to care for him was one thing and to love him another. And then there was always the black and terrible cloud of her sordid, uncontrollable perversion hanging overhead...

Roger thought he could detect a teardrop forming in one of her eyes. "You told me about your ex-husband," he said in a soothing tone. "I mean, if you're reluctant because of your bad experience with him, I can understand. But darling, I'm not like him. I'm not the kind who will beat you or take a belt to you. I want to cherish you, not hurt you."

"If... If you were like that beast, I wouldn't be up here with you, Roger. No, it's not so much because of him..."

"What then?" he asked plaintively. "You don't even like me, is that it?"

"I didn't say that! I couldn't say that!" she replied sincerely. She tried to think of something to say, something besides the truth that would inalterably kill any chance of them ever being together. "It's a reason of my own, and I simply can't tell you... yet." A hurting lump crept into her throat, and she could only stammer, never having felt so inadequate in her life. "I... I wish I could explain better; but... but I simply can't, Roger. I'm terribly, terribly sorry, believe me..."

"Well, I guess if you say no, you mean no," he said, shaking his head sadly. He managed a feeble grin, even though his insides were churning in a bath of miserable dejection. "Have some more wine, at least."

Miriam watched him pour the wine into their glasses with apprehension. Already she'd consumed too much of the first bottle they'd shared during the picnic lunch, and she was feeling a little giddy and hot. She had to keep her head today, and behave properly... and spirits of any kind affected her quickly. "I really don't think I should have any more," she said as Roger pressed the glass into her hand.

"Don't be silly, darling," he responded in a falsely bantering tone. "Let's have a toast to the most gorgeous woman in the world, you!" He raised his glass and saluted the lovely youthfully appearing woman beside him. "May she soon become my wife."

"Oh, Roger," she murmured disconsolately, but she lifted her glass and touched his. She sipped the heady red Pinot Noire, feeling it slide smoothly down her throat to warmly comfort her knotted stomach. She sipped again without thinking and then again... before she had realized it, Roger was refilling her empty glass.

Miriam moved on the blanket so that she could rest her chin upon her drawn-up knees and lean dreamily against his chest. She wanted to let him know she was having fun and was pleased to be here with him, and for a short while they sat in silent pleasure, Buck on the other side of her as quiet as his master. She savored the sweet-smelling fragrance of the air and the featherish rustlings of the surrounding glade as a gentle breeze stirred the foliage. Above her, there was nothing in the sky except a dipping, caroling bluejay. Lazily she listened to the gurgling sounds of water over the rocks in the stream bed a few feet away... The deliciously dulling illusion of liquor pervaded her worry clouded mind as she continued sipping the wine in her hand. She was glad to be here with Roger in this almost idyllic paradise. The last time she had been in the mountains with a man had been on her honeymoon ten years ago with Gregory Dodge, high in the Catskills, and that had turned into a hell on earth...

She couldn't stop her thoughts from returning to that time so long ago, in spite of the fact that these memories were painful enough to make her outwardly wince. Miriam's mother had warned her about sex all during her formative years, instilling in her the warped fallacy that all men are nasty and brutish, and the result had been a sad farce of marital bliss. The wedding night had been one of stark terror for her as for the first time she'd seen a man's penis. Unlike the small non-violent appearing organs she had seen on younger boys in her childhood, the turgid, blood-filled shaft which had stuck menacingly out from the much older man's plump white belly had made her cower under the covers and whimper with abject fear.

Gregory had taken her with unfeeling brutality that night as he had on every other subsequent occasion he'd had the urge to use her innocent young body. He had been the beast her mother had warned her a man would be, pummeling and beating her with a vengeance. By the middle of the first=8B=8Band only=8B=8Byear of marriage he'd all but lost interest in sex and had been content to continue with an orgasm a month.

She had been worried that she was somehow at fault and had sought help. After reading many sex and marriage manuals she had become increasingly aware of other women's problems and her own situation, learning two important facts. For one, she had realized that there wasn't another woman in Gregory's life, as she'd suspected; but rather a constant stream of whores and sluts that would allow him to brutally whip them. And two, there came the startling discovery that she was budding into a sexually responsive young woman. She didn't want sex all the time, but her education had made her aware of the damage her mother had done; and this awareness had peeled away the false veneer of her frigidity from her true self. She had needed loving and she had been refused it by her sadistic husband. In the end, there had been only one solution=8B=8Ba lover.

To her bitter regret, young Miriam had not been able to respond to another man in the way she had hoped to. She had tried a number of normal, if adulterous affairs, but she seemed to subconsciously freeze up every time, and she could only accept her lovers in stiff and trembling rigidity. In desperation, she had hoped to direct her interests elsewhere, and had turned to teaching high school, for which she had earned a college diploma just prior to marrying. And it was then that all her nightmarish troubles had really begun.

The young boys in her class with their developing young muscles and leanly tapered bodies had struck an immediate chord in her own unsatisfied body. They were not men yet, and so to her inner mind they were "safe" for her to sexually respond to and enjoy=8B=8Band a slowly growing yearning for fulfillment from any one of these virile young teenage boys had gradually taken over her thoughts. In the absence of love and security in her own home, Miriam's lewdly compelling desires to seduce her boy pupils had grown greater, with more and more insistent demands for relief. She had fought and fought against her compulsions until that fateful day a decade ago when she had given up completely and surrendered to the maddening emotions that had conquered her mind.

She'd never even learned that first one's name, only that he had been the delivery boy for the grocery store. She had opened the door to him and it was as though an evil spell had taken control of her mind. Lecherously, she had opened the thin nylon folds of her dressing gown and displayed her naked vagina, already wet with her arousal, to him. She had leaned back against the door and groaned aloud as she'd seen his thin young penis throb larger in reaction against his tightly clinging work-pants. He followed her down the hallway like a small, panting young puppy and it had been no time al all before she had stripped his clothes away and together they had thrashed nakedly against each other on she and her own husband's bed. For long, interminable hours, it had seemed, she had taught him almost all there was to do with the slender, virile young rod of flesh between his thighs. The boy had been everything she had ever hoped a man would be, and her hungrily waiting vagina had opened eagerly to accept him as he'd crawled feverishly over her body. And, when her tightly working vaginal walls had milked the hot youthful stream of his virile young semen from his small rigid cock, she had known then that she had never wanted this sensation to end.

After the delivery boy, there had been a succession of other young adolescents, many of them from her English classes, until, inevitably, she'd been caught. Even now she relived in her dreams the horror of that disgrace, and how Gregory had driven her from their home and city. The divorce had been engineered quietly, but not without her losing her job at the school and having to leave that up-state New York town. She had migrated all along the eastern seaboard since then, working where she could find a school district which was not too careful with its credentials check... and all the while she'd continued her unnatural and uncontrollable seduction of all the tender young teenage boys she could find.

The last forbidden act had been committed in Florida. There had been no excuses this time; she had clearly picked the young teenager up and seduced him, and they had been caught by a state trooper, naked in a near-orgasmic session, in the rear of her car, her hungrily throbbing cunt filled with the hardness of his young male flesh. It had been three months now without another boy, the frightening scare of wildly driving from the Southern state before she could be brought to trial having been a coldly deterring memory. She had been using her fingers, finding no other way to fulfill her sexual passions, yet masturbation hardly ever released her drives as did the beautiful filling of her hungering vagina by a throbbingly virile boy-cock...

And then out of nowhere had come Roger Trenton, tall and handsome, and his tender fourteen-year-old son, Mark. Her uncontrollable, perverse hunger had confronted her with a question agonizing consequence: was it Roger or his son whom she wanted to possess? Or both? Oh God, she would leave Longansville before she'd ruin three lives instead of only one.

Suddenly she realized that Roger was drawing closer to her and was whispering wetly into her ear. "You drive me wild," cooing softly, "God, I want to touch you, kiss you, make love to you..."

"D-don't talk like that, Roger, please..." she moaned. "It's the wine that's gone to your head." Even as she spoke, she heard her own slurred voice, and knew that she too had become slightly drunk in spite of her vow to watch herself.

"No, it's you who intoxicates me, Miriam. And... by God, I am going to kiss you, right now!"

Before she could find the breath to protest, she was being gently twisted around and pressed tightly against his naked chest. She could taste the grape flavor of the wine as his lips enfolded over hers and his tongue slithered easily into her mouth, rubbing and searching ever so tenderly in the moisture for the softness of her own tongue. His firm manly body felt good against hers, its sinewy strength pressing against the pliant supple softness of her own breasts. Her lips parted and though still trembling, their glistening richness beckoned him to cover her mouth harder.

Her arms rose involuntarily to his neck and she pulled him closer against her sensuously responding body. She could feel his lips crush and suck at her mouth more urgently, and his hand sliding over her slim, softly trembling back. Her thoughts dulled by the alcohol and strained to the breaking point, her mind couldn't reject the lewd lascivious tinglings that were beginning to course through her involuntarily quivering loins. He felt so wonderful to her, and every delicious sensation and muddled thought worked to deaden the acutely painful horrors of her memory. Instinctively she began to respond to his subtle caresses and pressed her wanting body to him with every fiber of her strength. But all the while, in spite of the intensity of her response, there was a frightening hollowness alive in the pit of her stomach...