"Gosh!" fifteen year-old Wayne Conroy said behind his teacher. Joan Frazer turned around, startled, not having noticed that the boy hadn't left the classroom along with the others.
She looked at Wayne and, after the headying influence of the movie, was terribly aware of his vibrant young body that was less than a foot away from her. She could almost feel the warmth of his youthful virility pulsating out toward her from the smooth, hairless flesh that was beneath his shirt and pants, and she felt a twinge of hot desire to reach out with her hand and caress the flat curve of his belly down to where it disappeared into his faded blue jeans.
Wayne smiled up at her almost brazenly, and wiped his perspiring forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. "That sure was the wildest sex movie I've ever seen."
"It… its purpose was educational, Wayne," Joan replied as primly as she could, trying to muster her control to hide her inner turmoil. "It… wasn't meant to be anything more than that."
"Aw, I didn't mean it was dirty or anything like that," Wayne said, scuffing the toe of one shoe with embarrassment. "I kinda figure it's all how you look at it."
"That's exactly right," Joan said. She walked over to her desk, swallowing thickly, and kept her eyes steadfastly off the boy as she picked up her books and class records. "Sex… Sex isn't obscene in itself. It can be beautiful or fun or not much of anything at all, but not obscene. The film today showed love-making, not dirt."
"Well, what's all the fuss over porno – pornog…"
"Pornography. It's a matter of definition, I'd say. If a person thinks sex is obscene, then whatever has to do with it is, by definition, pornographic. But if the act of eating was thought to be sinful, and the people in government or the church had the power to force their ways on us, then a picture of your family eating dinner around a table would be pornographic."
"I don't think you'd get my father to go along with that!" Wayne laughed. "He loves eating too much! But then, I guess he likes sex a lot, too."
Joan felt a blush creep slowly up through the skin of her face. "I… I would hope so, if he's a healthy married adult," she said, feeling the conversation was slipping away from her control.
"Naw," Wayne said with a slight sneer. "I mean the old man likes por – pornography. He's got a basement full of the stuff, and…"
"Wayne!" Joan said sharply. "Your father is the leading man in Montock. He's the leader of the fight against sex education, as you well know; and I'm sure that he would be very hurt if he heard you talk about him that way!"
"Aw, so he started the Concerned Parents of PTA Committee to try and stop you; but that don't mean a thing. My ma got him to do it, and she dried up years ago. But he runs the smokers at the American Legion, and when he gets with his dumb friends, they go down into the basement with a load of beer… and I can hear them snickering clear up in my bedroom sometimes. He goes out to Sadie's sometimes, too. You know about Sadie's? She runs that cat-house outside of town, and…"
"That will be quite enough, young man!" Joan interrupted him icily. "Whether your father does or does not, I don't want to hear about it, not in my classroom. What we're trying to teach you in sex education is the adult, healthy attitude toward love and procreation."
Wayne shrugged, as if the vile sound of his words about his father didn't mean a thing one way or another. "Well, suit yourself, Miss Frazer. That's not why I stuck around anyway. I was wondering if… well, if you'd drive me home today."
"Oh? Miss your ride?"
"I told 'Knuckles' not to save room for me in his brother's car, because my ma was supposed to pick me up. Now I found out she ain't coming, and it's a long way to walk. Gee, if you'd only drive me as far as your rooming house, that'd be a help, since you live over half the way to my place. Would you, Miss Frazer? Huh, would you?"
Joan stiffened at his request, sensing the hard-won control of a few minutes already faltering. In spite of herself, she could feel tiny butterfly-like sensations flitting suddenly through her stomach, and she blinked her eyes shut, trying not to allow the still smoldering embers of the fire the sex film had lit within her to grow any more heated. She realized haplessly that any wrong move could suddenly fan those glowing coals of passion into a roaring inferno that would consume her and whoever was with her at the time.
Yet what excuse could she possibly use to decline this handsome young boy's request? Montock was such a small town, that there simply was no way of hiding a curt brush-off behind a phony excuse. Wayne would see right through it, and she knew he'd be hurt and possibly hate her for the unexplainable lie. For some reason she still didn't fathom, young Wayne had been very cooperative in her class, contrary to his behavior in some of the others, and she hated to upset the delicate balance that had been struck so far. Moreover, she intuitively knew that one of the reasons she hadn't been as bothered as she could have been by Mr. Agnew Harrison Conroy and his Concerned Parents group was due to Wayne's talking down of the sex education class while at home. To repulse the boy and turn him against her could open up a nightmarish Pandora's box of harassment and eventual ruination.
"Of… course, Wayne," she said, licking her lips with the tip of her moist tongue. "I'll be glad to…"
Joan owned a banged-up old Volkswagen beetle, and when she and Wayne got into it moments later, it was impossible not to become aware of their closeness. She set her mind on the task of driving, however, vowing not to let his nearness affect her any more than it was already. She could feel tiny tendrils of lurid excitement creeping unwontedly through her body as it was, tingling involuntarily up from between her aching secretion-moistened loins, and she struggled with all of her strength to maintain her outward composure. Miserably, Joan realized that not until she was in her apartment and Wayne was safely out of sight and on his way home, would she be truly able to regain control again over her sensually-aroused emotions.
For a small town, Montock had quite a number of people crowding the small "down-town" main street, and Joan had to swerve violently once as an unthinking lady driver suddenly cut her off. Young Wayne Conroy was thrown against her in spite of the bucket seats, and she gasped with a startled cry as the rounded firmness of her breasts brushed against the developing muscles of his shoulder and chest. His touch made the older woman all that more conscious of the virile youth's presence, more than the forced laughter and desultory conversation they'd indulged in since leaving the school grounds. Alone with the boy and without the interruptions of class duties and other students, she was discovering that Wayne was a rather bright, quick-witted teenager, and despite what she had promised herself, a rapport between them was rapidly establishing itself. By the time she parked the small car in front of her rooming house, Joan Frazer was almost sad to see Wayne leave.
There was a long silence of almost embarrassing proportions as the lovely brunette teacher and her handsome young student stood on the cracked sidewalk in front of the house. Joan was mortified by the way she was finding herself tongue-tied, and as she continued to look at Wayne, she tried desperately to stifle the strange nervousness she felt growing within her. There was the same something about the boy that there had been about little Tommy Hotchkiss back in Dayton and all the other youngsters before him – and it was more than simply a broad-shouldered and leanly muscular young virility. It was as if there was a compelling magnetism between her and the boy, an undeniable "animal attraction" that was wickedly forcing them together no matter what precautions she could take.
"Ahhh, gee, Mrs. Frazer, thanks a lot for the ride," Wayne finally managed to say to her. "Gosh, do you think that… that…" His stammering grew until at last he blurted: "I mean, it's an awful hot day for April, and I'm mighty thirsty. I don't have any money, and I was hoping maybe you could let me have a glass of water before I go."
"Well, Wayne, I think that…" Joan said slowly, unable to make her mind function properly as she felt the boy's eyes gazing immodestly over her thinly clad body. His eyes were almost a solid touch upon her flesh, and they seemed to roam at will up and down from her high, rounded breasts to the full, inviting curves of her buttocks and thighs. No! Tell him to go away! a portion of her mind screamed at her, tell him no before it's too late!
But a savage thrill ran through the heatedly aroused young teacher's body as she watched his unconscious staring at her lush, lightly-covered form. She could feel a slight tremor of response up between her inner thighs as she realized that she was hopelessly gripped with an insane temptation to reach out and stroke the young boy's face in return. It was horrible, she told herself; it was degrading and perverted, and she had to stop herself! Yet in spite of her revulsion at her own animal lustings, Joan was unwillingly becoming more and more aroused by the minute.
"Yes," she said softly to the youth. "Yes, you can come up to my room, Wayne." She prayed that her suddenly uncontrollable excitement was not revealed in her own trembling voice. "I have some soda-pop you can have, how's that?"
"Gee, thanks, Miss Frazer! You're a swell teacher to have!" Wayne enthused gratefully, and bounced up on the old wide porch of the rooming house.
Joan rented a small, three-room apartment on the second floor from the owner of the house, a widowed grandmother named Mrs. O'Toole. It looked out on the weed-grown back yard and the rear of Smiley's Hardware Store, and the dismal sight often depressed Joan when she'd glance out of the dirty windows. It was cramped and smelled of dry-rot, but it was furnished and the only cheap place available in Montock when she'd arrived. As usual, Mrs. O'Toole was away baby-sitting her latest grandchild, and there was no one in sight as Joan and Wayne climbed the rickety narrow stairs to the upper floor. And yet, though nobody knew Wayne was with her, and she had still not touched this delicious child, Joan Frazer had a horrible sinking feeling as she closed the door to her room that she was also sealing her fate for the rest of her life…
"The soda is in the kitchen, Wayne," she said with a gentle smile. "Why don't you sit down on the couch there and make yourself comfortable?"
"Well, are you having one, too Miss Frazer?"
"I… thought I might have a small glass of brandy instead, Wayne," Joan said, already crossing to the cabinet beside the chair. God, yes, she wanted a brandy! She had to have something to suppress her ragged nerves and help her get a better hold of herself before she went straight up through the roof! That damnable sex film… and now Wayne sitting so innocently on her couch… God, maybe she better have two drinks, and big ones at that!
"Well, gee, then I'll go get the soda," the boy said, jumping up from the couch. "Ma never lets me do anything around the house like that. Is it in the refrigerator?"
"Yes, behind the eggs," Joan replied, nodding. She watched him hurry out into the kitchen and then listened for the sound of the refrigerator door opening before taking out the nearly full bottle of brandy and a small wine glass from the cabinet. She unscrewed the top and tilted the bottle, filling the glass to its brim. The hot liquid burned all the way down to her quivering stomach, making her slightly sick until she thought of the desirable male child who was out in the kitchen, and then she lifted the glass again and swallowed the rest of it in one gulp. The warming brandy flowed instantly through her bloodstream, relaxing her and making her feel less guilty. She refilled the glass and drank again, rewarded this second time by a faint lightheadedness that swirled through her gratefully.
But when Wayne returned, smiling happily with his ice-cold bottle of soda clutched in his hand, Joan bit into the soft full flesh of her lower lip, once again tormented by maddening desire. God, it was out of the question, she told herself as she drank again. She just couldn't allow herself to give in to her cravings for him! It was begging for disaster, and after all of the promises she'd made after Dayton and managed to keep, she had to fight it! Damn, damn, damn, she'd hoped the brandy would help settle her, but instead it almost seemed as if it were having an opposite effect on her…
Wayne Conroy sank down on the couch again and took a long pull on the soda. Then he said, "You… you don't mind if I ask you something, Miss Frazer?"
"What?" Joan said, coming out of her own thoughts to hear him. "Oh, no. No, not at all, Wayne. That's what teachers are for."
"Well, gee, it's about what we're learning in the sex class," he said, squirming with childish embarrassment. "Ma keeps telling me that sex is bad. That I'll loose all my teeth and go mad if I… I fool around with myself."
"Masturbate?" Joan said, unable to stop herself.
"Y-Yes, I guess that's what it's called." Wayne blushed a crimson color now and wriggled even more on the couch, the soda pop bottle in his lap, held there by both hands. The bottle looks just like a giant glass penis, Joan caught herself thinking, and then she shivered and turned away, horrified at the lewdness she had pictured in her mind. "But you tell us it's normal, Miss Frazer," the boy went on in an awkward voice. "Just about everybody does it, and it's just a natural thing to do. Gee, I get confused."
"Don't be, Wayne. It's simply a matter that facts are finally winning out over superstition. For centuries people believed certain things because there wasn't any way of actually finding out if they were true or not. Now there are ways, and scientists have proven with studies and experiments that lots of the old beliefs are false. Boys and girls masturbate, and so do lots of adults. If what your mother believes actually was the case, why almost everybody in the world would be running around crazy and without any teeth."
Wayne laughed at the imaginary scene. "Yeah, that would be pretty funny, all right."
"That's why the state has decided on sex education courses," Joan continued. "Too many parents either don't teach anything at all about sex, or if they do, they teach myths and falsehoods that give their children the wrong idea about what's right and wrong."
"Well, gee, then what we saw in the movie today, when the guy went down on his girl – that's okay?"
"If they both want it. Passion is a very strong thing."
"Pastor Quigley says things like that are sins and only animals do it."
"Humans are animals, Wayne, at least when it comes to how our sex is set up." Joan moved toward one of the windows, feeling the moisture begin again between her tightly pressed thighs. She involuntarily squeezed her buttocks together to quiet the lascivious tingle that was building in her loins. God, if only Wayne wouldn't talk about sex, she groaned to herself, it only made matters worse for her to control! Every word they spoke made her remember the film she'd viewed less than an hour previously. How vividly came that final love-making scene to her mind again, the camera clearly showing the beautiful naked boy's thick, virile penis pumping into the soft, hair-fringed folds of his bride's vagina. The girl's face had been contorted into the most depraved picture of ecstasy Joan could possibly imagine. God, how she must have felt, Joan found herself thinking. And for such a long time I haven't felt that way myself…
"Gee," Wayne said in inexperienced awe, "that girl sure loved what he was doing to her."
Joan drained the brandy in her glass and stepped quickly to the bottle for another shot. "That's… that's what love is all about, Wayne, as you'll discover some day. Love is making people happy."
"Have you ever made love, Miss Frazer?"
Joan almost dropped the glass in her hand at the innocence of the question. She turned around to stare at Wayne, completely unable to find the words to diplomatically answer his blatancy, and was instantly aware of the boy's eyes fastened upon her body again. Joan fought down the almost irresistible impulse to tell him that yes, she had made love, and had made numerous boys just like him happy in the process. She desperately wished she could tell him that she wanted him to fill her aching, empty vagina with his virile young penis so that they could both enjoy each other as the couple in the film had. But she knew that she didn't dare, and that she had to end this acutely arousing conversation before her urges became totally untamable!
"L-look, Wayne," she said, breathing harshly, "I think you'd better go. I… I want to get out of this old work dress and into something more comfortable."
"Gosh, Miss Frazer, shouldn't I have asked you that? About making love? I'm sorry if I said something wrong." The boy's worried voice was on the verge of breaking into tearful anguish. "You want me to go? I hope I didn't make you mad." He peered nervously over the neck of the soda-pop bottle as he took another swallow nervously, and then moved as if to get up off the couch.
Joan watched him shift uncertainly on the edge of the couch. Though he acted as if he could be willing to leave at her command, the helplessly excited teacher could feel his eyes were still glued upon her, staring ravenously at her generously curved body. She could sense that the last remaining fragments of her will-power were rapidly dwindling from her mind, and then she heard a soft, sultry feminine voice she barely recognized as her own begin to speak.
"No, you didn't make me mad, Wayne. You're more than welcome to stay and finish your soda if you like. I'll only be a minute in the bedroom."
The boy stared happily at her for a moment, as though unable to believe his good fortune, and then quickly scooted against the back of the couch. Joan was visibly trembling now from the force of the delicious erotic sensations that were uncontrollably rippling through her nerves, and no longer did she even care whether or not the boy could see the agitation caused by his presence. The only thing of which she was sure now was the sexual current that was jumping like electrical lightning between their two bodies, and her mind was momentarily filled with visions of shameless plans to seduce the young fifteen year-old who sat staring openly at her. Her gaze fell to his faded blue jeans, and the sight of his crotch filled her with still greater passion that both thrilled and terrified her. Bulging out against the soft, washed-out fabric, the older woman could see a stiff, slender form pressing up and outward, and then she ran her eyes over the rest of his slim, virile form, coming to rest again on his face in which confusion and youthful lust so clearly showed. She tipped the brandy glass to her lips and drained its contents for a fourth time, and then walked hurriedly out of the room.
The bedroom door firmly closed behind her, she quickly, almost frantically, began to undress. She couldn't have stayed in the same room with Wayne another second, she thought miserably as she hung her spring dress on a hanger in the closet. Another moment and she'd have attacked him where he sat, and coming in here on the pretext of changing clothes had been the only answer. But what on earth had possessed her to say the boy could stay? He'd all but offered to leave, and then she had insisted that he wait for her to return. What was the matter with her this afternoon? Oh God, she knew… she knew all too well what was the matter with her as she stood on the circular throw rug before the small bureau. She looked down at her brassiere-encased breasts and then down the smooth curve of her exposed belly to the thinly-clothed triangle of her pubic mound, and she could feel the inflamed center of her loins throbbing violently in answer to her own tormenting question. She could feel her vaginal lips tingling madly against the soft silkiness of her gossamer panties, and her nipples growing pebble-hard, pressing hotly out against the suddenly abrasive clinging material as her full curving breasts heaved high and swelled with the sweet agony of her ever-mounting desires, and she knew. Oh God, how she knew!
She began opening the drawers of her bureau in a hasty search for something to wear, her mind still filled with the thoughts of her sexual perversion so long hidden and repressed deep within her, and how the eager young boy out in the living room had awakened her into an overwhelming, enveloping passion. She thought about all this, standing there almost naked and looking down haplessly into the drawers, and then suddenly raised her head and stared at the closed door. She straightened, still undecided as to what she should wear, and turned all the way toward the door, a soft whimpering sound coming from her throat.
He was out there waiting… That beautiful boy, waiting and wanting, just as she was wanting him. He, in his innocence, didn't know what it was that his handsome young body so desperately craved, only that he was filled with the ungovernable desire to look at her, see her breasts, her legs, her buttocks… To see her naked, and most of all, to see her pussy!
Dear God, she was giving into her body's demands inch by inch! Inches! How many did little Wayne have! Four to five, she imagined, just like the other boys she'd lustily enjoyed in the past. She could visualize it now, standing rigidly erect, almost touching his hairless little belly! Oh God – she didn't dare go out there like this, for she knew that in her present state of arousal there would be no halting her; and she would shamelessly seduce him. She could be wearing a fur coat over a straight-jacket, and somehow she'd manage to beckon to him, and then he'd eagerly respond, and then… God, and then…!
A tremendous surge of lascivious excitement charged through the older woman; and Joan trembled from head to toe; her firmly ripe breasts and taut buttocks rippling in suppressed excitement as she reached for the one outfit that would be the best thing to wear for young Wayne. Frantically she began to dress, her whole naked body trembling from the realization she was surrendering herself to her salacious desires. If it were going to happen, it should happen now, before little Wayne was missed at the Conroy home and he'd have too much explaining to do later on. Yes, it would be now. And then a tear slowly formed in one of her eyes and trickled down her passion-flushed cheek. She was lost. Lost! Every nerve in her sensuous flesh was reacting in a tumult of lecherous yearning, and her reasonings and promises had proven to be only flimsy barriers before the monstrous lusts which had swept them aside and overwhelmed her will-power. Every moral and inhibition in her had melted away in the heat of her renewed passions, every last shred of conscience was gone now as it had been in Dayton and countless cities before that. Her brain whirled and she moaned in shameful defeat, but the needing, hungry pressure of wanting that young boy out there was simply too overpowering to restrain. Her craving had reached the very core of her being, and there was no use fighting it any longer. Oh God, there just wasn't the slightest damned thing she could do to stop herself, was there?