Chapter 5

Just after Joey closed the bedroom door, he heard the voice of Terri's mother calling Terri for help getting her father to bed.

"He's tanked again, Mom?"

"Just help me get him into bed!"

Joey could easily imagine that Terri's mother, Mrs. Claxton, would soon be coming into the bathroom, so he looked for a place to hide. The linen closet offered too little room for him to enter and pull the door completely shut, so that wouldn't do. The shower had built-in doors of opaque glass, so he couldn't very well hide there either.

"Help me, darlin'," he heard Mrs. Claxton calling to her daughter. "I've got a burnin' need for the bathroom."

He'd never fit behind the toilet.

"The bathroom? Uh, Mom, shouldn't we get Dad undressed first?"

Should he crouch down in the bath tub?

"Let him sleep in his suit. Maybe it'll teach him a lesson. Now get to bed. Good-night."

Too late. He opted for the closet.

"Good-night."

Joey pulled the door to the closet nearly shut just in time to see Terri's mother enter the bathroom. She'd only be able to see him if she looked at the door from just the right angle, but Joey felt vulnerable to being caught. Still, he had a view of half the bathroom, including the sink and toilet, so he clearly saw Terri's mother as she hiked her skirt and sat. When he heard the rush of her stream splashing into the bowl, his aching penis throbbed painfully, making him curious to get a better look at Mrs. Claxton.

She was a brunette with brown eyes, and her shoulder-length hair had been given a permanent, causing it to be curly all over. Joey thought it made her look beautiful as she leaned forward with her eyes closed, her full breasts pressing against her pink taffeta dress. Joey was surprised at how good she looked. She seemed a generation older than Alice, yet he found himself aroused as he watched her pee. From what he could see she had a great figure, her body slim and sexy. Too soon, she finished, wiped herself and returned to her place in front of the sink.

She reached behind her and unclasped her dress. She then zipped it about half way down, turning to unzip the rest of it from below. It fell forward, revealing her ample breasts confined in a pink bra. The dress dropped to her hips. She stretched and turned half towards Joey.

She was beautiful. He could see her nipples through the translucent lace of the bra.

She then eased the dress over her hips and let it drop to the floor, revealing pink panties of the same lace. Joey could plainly see the thick black hair, the pouting lips of her pussy through the skimpy pink garment. The whiteness of her legs above pink stockings made him want to touch her thighs, to feel for himself whether they were as soft as they looked. She stepped out of the dress, folded it and bent over to place it into a hamper. While bent over, she reached around behind her to unclasp her bra and let it drop into her hands. It, too, she put into the hamper. Joey watched all from behind her, mesmerized by the sight of her long legs, bare back and skimpy pink panties. They were spread across her pussy, and he could see the vertical line of her labia. She pulled out a nightgown and stood, extending her hands above her head and letting the gown fall down upon her body. It was made of a black diaphanous material, and Joey could see Mrs. Claxton's long, lithe body through it. She reached beneath it and pulled off her panties. She then slowly pulled down her left stocking, bending forward to remove it from her foot. Joey could see her ass draped in lace as she bent forward, could see the dark hair and pink lips of her sex beneath the spread cheeks. She repeated the procedure with the other stocking. She then stood and turned. Joey got a quick glimpse of her body completely naked beneath the nightgown before she flipped off the light and left the bathroom.

Joey deliberately counted to one thousand in the dark of the linen closet, trying to get the image of Mrs. Claxton's body out of his mind.

He realized with surprise that she had become sexier as she covered her body completely with the black transparent material. Shouldn't she be sexier naked? He tried to erase the memory, to let his erection subside. His balls were throbbing with pain, as if he'd been kicked. He had to get some relief, and that meant he had to get out of this closet and then out of the house. He quietly pushed the linen closet door forward and crept into the bathroom, half lit by the light coming through the open door from the bedroom. He tip-toed towards the door.

Suddenly he heard something. He stopped and listened. The sound was muffled, but it seemed to be some kind of movement. Then he heard nothing. He waited, breathing as quietly as he possibly could. He sneaked forward to the door and stopped. He could hear something moving, a regular movement, but he couldn't place it. Then he heard a moan. A woman's moan. Then nothing. Could she be moving and talking in her sleep?

He got down on his knees and put his head out the door so he could see the room. There was a dim lamp on by the bed. In its light, Joey saw Mr. Claxton lying on his back, dressed in a suit. Mrs. Claxton, lay perpendicular to his body and had his fly open, his penis out and in her mouth. He could see her head bobbing, then pausing, the half-hard penis in her hand. She licked it up and down, brushed it against her lips, took it into her mouth. She pushed it against her cheeks. She kissed it. But Joey could see she was getting no real response. The penis remained only half hard, and the man was completely asleep. Joey couldn't imagine sleeping through such a performance. He wished he could trade places with the man.

Mrs. Claxton moved around to the foot of the bed and climbed on it to attack the problem from a new angle. This afforded Joey a view of her backside, still draped in the black lace. As he watched, he determined that she was fingering herself as she licked the penis. Her hips were moving in time to her hands. The gown slowly worked its way up her legs until it fell forward onto her back, exposing her utterly to Joey's horny eyes. Her legs were spread, and Joey could see that Mrs. Claxton had a beautiful wet pussy, lips parted to reveal a thin line of pink flesh. He even imagined he could see her clit, a slimy knob about the size of a pencil's eraser, as her fingers slid back and forth across it.

Her ass was delicately undulating.

Suddenly she stopped and crawled up onto the bed, straddling the man's body. Joey watched as she reached his head. She bent close to the man's face, but she spoke loudly.

"I'm horny, Honey. Do you care? Or do you think we should let sleeping dogs lie? If I did this to you, you'd call me a bitch, so I guess that makes you a dog. Anyway, why should I waste my time trying to raise the dead? Don't you agree, honey?" There was no answer, of course. "You can't even wake up for this," she said, evidently indicating something she was doing with her fingers as she bent forward. Perhaps she was letting the man smell the muskiness of her fingers? No matter, he didn't awaken.

Joey knew she could return to the bathroom, so he scampered back to the linen closet.

Just in time. Suddenly his eyes hurt as the light of the bathroom was turned on. When his eyes got used to it, he saw Mrs. Claxton sitting on the toilet, her legs spread, her fingers sliding against the lips of her clitoris, her hips already jerking with the first twitching of an orgasm. Joey's prick was aching, so slipped his shorts down and grabbed it. He slowly began jerking himself off, captivated by the sight of Mrs. Claxton's fingers lightly tracing the slick wet furrow in the midst of her shiny black pubic hair, her head thrown back, her left hand casually pulling on her left nipple through the thin material of her gown. He could feel his orgasm rising, so he tried to aim it into his shorts, but when he pulled at the elastic, he lost his balance, the door flew open, and he fell forward. Now he stood two feet from Mrs. Claxton, his hand strongly squeezing his penis, already quivering with the arising of his orgasm, trying not shoot to into Mrs. Claxton's face.

Mrs. Claxton seemed oblivious, though her eyes were half-open and focused right on the shiny purple head of his prick. Her hips were jerking sharply now, and she couldn't, wouldn't, stop herself. Her right hand moved ever more slowly against her clitoris, but she was obviously about to come. Joey heard her moan. He tried to hold back, but he could control himself no better than she could. She grunted and her body went stiff as her fingers moved and her hips jerked and she moaned and groaned. Her body arched stiffly again and again. It was too much for Joey. Suddenly a long stream of semen burst from his penis, hitting Mrs. Claxton in the side of her face.

"Oh!" she sighed. She opened her eyes and looked clearly at Joey's cock as it spewed forth a second load of gray matter, hitting Mrs. Claxton's right shoulder and breast. She continued to stroke herself, moaning as she watched the penis squirt a third time.

"Oh yes! Oh yes! I'm going to come again!" she whispered to him.

Joey couldn't stop himself. He stepped forward, still stroking himself, feeling another spasm coming. He reached her face, she opened her mouth, the wet purple head of his prick slipped in. He groaned as he sprayed her mouth with an intense discharge. She sucked on him for a moment as she slowly quieted her fingers, licking and sucking him in time to her slowing strokes. She held his penis in her mouth and looked up at him. He was still jerking in the last throws of his orgasm. Finally he finished and opened his eyes, looking straight into hers. She let his penis slowly slip from her mouth, kissing it as he stepped back.

"What were you doing?" she asked. "Were you watching me?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, I didn't mean to be. It's hard to explain."

"How do you happen to be coming out of my linen closet at midnight?" She smiled, "Are you a spy?"

"I wasn't spying on you, Mrs. Claxton, honest I wasn't. I was just, that is, I had to use the bathroom and you came home and I was embarrassed and --"

"My name is Ramona. I know you weren't spying on me. Joey? Isn't that your name?" She took some toilet paper and began daubing the semen from her face and gown and hair.

"Yeah. Joey Adler."

"What were you doing tonight. I want the truth."

"Nothing. Watching TV."

"Don't try to fool me."

"I'm not. We were watching TV. I had to go to the bathroom. Then you came home, but I couldn't, that is, I was --"

"-- too aroused to appear in front of me?"

"Well... Jackie and I were kissing. You know."

"And kissing arouses you?" Ramona stood and faced Joey. They were within inches of one another, he with his penis half-hard and pressing against the lacy material covering her belly, she with a strange smile on her lips.

"What do you think? Of course it does."

She pushed herself closer to him. He could feel the pressure of her breasts against his chest, the pressure of life returning to his cock, inching it forward.

"Is that all?"

"All what?"

"All it takes?"

"For what?"

"For you to get hard."

He was hard now, the head of his penis caught against her. She was a tall woman, tall enough that he could kiss her forehead without bending, and his penis pressed against her lower belly. She wriggled her hips, letting the penis go free and stand straight up. She stepped into him.

"Is that really all you did with Jackie? I mean, surely you'd lose your arousal if all you'd been doing was kissing."

She reached down and took his penis into her hand.

"Wouldn't you?"

She began slowly stroking it as she looked him straight in the eye. Joey could see what he'd never noticed before when he had visited Terri, that she was a beautiful woman. He loved her smile, thinking it a sardonic smile, even if he wasn't totally sure what the word meant.

And though he didn't know it, the word was apt. She was thirty-six years old and felt confined by her life. She'd always kept herself in shape, and lately she'd been hornier than ever before in her life. Her husband was completely unreliable, and even when he did rise to the occasion, he was slurred by alcohol. That's how she thought of his sexual prowess: slurred by alcohol. Perhaps she was so horny now because sex was something she couldn't have. Perhaps it was because she could see her daughter reaching sexual maturity and becoming more and more curious. She couldn't help but be reminded of her own first forays into foreplay in the back seat of a car. She had often fantasized about being young again, or at least being with a young man, someone with some spunk in him, someone who found her sexy, who got turned on by her body.

Someone who became aroused by kissing. Whatever the cause, she had been an inferno of late, dying to have something hard and long and slow, something just like what she was hoping to have right then. She came closer, close enough to stroke his nose with hers, still kneading his cock, feeling the hard desire in him, seeing it in his eyes.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what?" he gasped, his lips brushing hers.

"Is kissing all you and Jackie did?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Why don't you?"

"Because you just sprayed me with two gallons of come, you horny bastard." She squeezed his penis, and he rutted against her without meaning to. She kissed him. He kissed her back and took her into his arms. He pressed her to him, exploring her body with his hands, gently pinching at her nipples through her nighty, stroking her back, massaging her ass. He pulled her gown up from behind and took her bottom into his hands.

"Tell me, Joey. I want to hear. All the details."

"But it's about your daughter."

"I know," she said. She kissed him, reaching down to tug on his balls as she did. He fingered her bottom, got his hands wet in the juice leaking from her pussy, let his fingertips slide against the nub of her clitoris. She sighed and kissed him with greater hunger.

"So tell me," she said. "Please?" She dropped to her knees and put her face against his penis. She looked into his eyes, and he was moved by the beauty and sensuality of the sight. She licked the head of his penis and slipped it into her mouth. She brushed the head against her lips and looked up at him.

"Tell me all the details while I suck your cock, OK?"

"What about you're husband?"

"He might as well be dead. There's no way he'll wake up again."

"I wouldn't feel safe, Mrs. --"

"-- Ramona, OK?"

"OK."

"We could go down to the den. Would that be far enough away?"

She stood after giving his cock one last lick and a kiss on the head. He followed her past the sleeping form of her husband -- he was snoring loudly now -- to the top of the stairs, down them, through the living room and into the den. There she sat him onto the couch. She knelt in front of him and helped him remove his shorts. She took his penis into her mouth. It had remained hard the whole time, thanks to the sight of her naked hips swaying before him through the sheer lace of the nighty.

He was aching and hard now. She kissed it, licked it, rubbed it against her lips and across her face and watched him.

"Now tell me." She began to suck him, her head slowly bobbing up and down between his legs. He wanted to begin, but he saw something that almost made his penis spurt into Ramona's mouth: Terri had followed them. She was behind her mother and looking Joey right in the eye. She was wearing a baby doll chemise and matching panties, a real child's outfit that barely fit her. Her breasts spilled out of the bottom of the chemise, giving Joey occasional glimpses of her nipples. Her panties were nothing, a teasing strip of fabric dividing the black hair of her damp bush. She sat down on a sofa in front of an ottoman and watched her mother suck Joey's cock. She could see her mother's bush and slit, her mother's wet fingers dancing on the proud pink cleft. She pulled aside the fabric of her own panties and began fingering herself.