Shaking her head sadly, Betty recognized his feelings.
"If that's the way you are, Ken," she said, "then I don't know as you're ever gonna be happy. Even when you're older, I mean."
Ken didn't care to talk about it anymore, so he simply went downstairs with her once they were dressed and they watched a television show until it was over.
That evening when his mom and dad came home and saw them talking in the den, they both were pleased. When Ken had walked Betty back home his mother congratulated him.
"Now that's the kind of girl I wish you'd go around with," she told him flatly.
Ken didn't say anything. But when his father congratulated him on going with a nice girl, he broke down and told them both what he thought about Betty.
"She's a slut," he said quietly as he went up to his bedroom and slammed the door shut.
Once he was in his room he realized he had spoken too abruptly about the neighbor girl. After all, Betty had simply done what he'd asked her to. And he felt guilty for calling her names because of it.
Yet there was something about having sex with her that made him feel dirty. He couldn't put his finger on why but he had a feeling she had been around plenty and was just pretending to be innocent.
There was a teacher at school that Ken found fascinating. It appeared doubtful, however, that he could ever get her to take an interest in him.
After class one day he stopped to talk to her.
"I wish I could speak to you," he told her. "I… I don't know how to put this, but I have a problem I'd like to discuss with you."
The trim, twenty-five-year-old teacher told Ken she'd be glad to listen to his problems. But little did Linda Livingstone realize what Ken wanted to discuss.
As Ken sat on the edge of her desk and looked into her blue eyes, he finally found words coming very difficult. He couldn't help but be impressed with her beauty and her body.
"What is your problem?" Linda Livingstone finally insisted on knowing.
Ken went over and closed the door to the classroom.
"It's very personal," he told her.
"Is it that personal?" Miss Livingstone asked as she looked at him intently.
Ken glanced at her and blushed. Miss Livingstone felt sorry for him.
"What is it, Ken?" she demanded.
"If you must know," Ken told her frankly, "you turn me on."
Miss Livingstone was so taken back by what the young student had told her that she didn't know what to say.
"I'm sorry," she finally volunteered huskily, "but that is hardly something I can help you with."
Ken, however, felt she could.
"You see," he told her, "after class I have to go home and jack off while I think of you. And I don't think it's wholesome to jack off."
Miss Livingstone surprised him with her response.
"Not true," she told him. "There's nothing wrong with a young boy servicing himself in that manner, if he has to. Time was, Ken, when it used to be looked upon as something that would produce warts, cause blindness or other maladies of the mind. But science has discovered that masturbation is healthy."
Looking at Miss Livingstone he suddenly wondered if she was masturbating.
"Miss Livingstone," he asked quietly, "do you masturbate?"
Linda Livingstone's face flushed as she looked at her questioning student.
"Let's just say I don't look upon it as wrong," she replied, pursing her lips in a pleased smile and hoping that would satisfy him.
But it didn't.
"If I could jack off in front of you," Ken told her, "while you let me look at your tits, that would really turn me on."
Miss Livingstone's jaw hung slack.
"Young man," she told him, "I think you had better be going now. This type of problem should be taken up with a male counselor. Certainly not with me!"
"I'm not gay," the young boy volunteered, "so I thought it only fair that we should discuss it together. After all, you are woman, I am man."
"I know all about that," Miss Livingstone said as she narrowed her eyes and got to her feet.
But before she could say another word, Ken was flashing his penis in front of her eyes.
"Ken, really," she exclaimed nervously, "put that thing back in your pants."
"It's not a snake," Ken chuckled. "It's just my cock."
Miss Livingstone had visions of a school scandal. She had heard about a teacher who placed her hand on a young pupil's shoulder. And she remembered all of the notoriety that the teacher had garnered. It just so happened it was a girl's shoulder to boot. And the teacher had been touted as a lesbian until it was discovered that the girl was simply a trouble maker. Now she was confronted with a horrifying situation of Ken flashing his throbbing cock, which was dripping cum from its tip, in front of her eyes.
"This is inappropriate behavior," she told him.
"I've got a hard-on," he insisted grimly.
"I know," she agreed, "but I can't help you. Would you please get out of here."
Afraid to open the door now for fear that someone might be walking by, Linda Livingstone felt trapped. She knew the young boy had her right where he wanted her. The mistake was in permitting him to have closed and locked the door in the first place. At this point she stood there frozen as he slowly pulled out his balls and began massaging them vigorously.
"Ken, please, have a heart," she told him.
"I've got a heart," he smiled, "but I've also got a hard-on. So if you will have a heart and help me with my hard-on, we'll both be happy."
For a second it seemed so logical that Miss Livingstone felt like reaching over and pulling on the pulsating flesh of his hot shaft. But better judgment prevailed and she moved away from him to the door.
Ken walked toward her, his huge cock jutting from his loins as if it would unload and shoot at her in an instant.
"What are you going to do?" Ken smirked. "Open the door and let everyone see us together?"
It was a very good question that Ken had asked her and she frankly didn't have the answer. It bothered her that he was becoming so nervy – "You ought to be ashamed of yourself," she told him.
"I'm not," he said proudly.
Ken began pulling the fleshy shaft in regular rhythmic strokes.
"Pump on my prick," he pleaded to the teacher.
Throwing her hands up in horror at the nerve of his suggestion, she shook her head and adamantly told him, "Not on your life!"
Ken realized that she had forced the issue.
"All right, if you won't help me," he said reluctantly, "I guess I'll have to jack it off myself. But you'd help me get my gun off quicker if you'd pull it."
Shaking her head and closing her eyes, she listened as she heard the rhythmic beat of his hot hand on his throbbing pole of flesh. Ken was jacking off and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
"Please, please, Ken," she whispered urgently, "what if the principal should burst in and find us like this?"
"You wouldn't have to worry about teaching here next year," he laughed.
Linda Livingstone knew that he was telling the truth. Opening her eyes just a crack she could see the mask of lust surface on his face as the erotic thrills shot through his body while he jacked off vigorously.
"Wow, that feels good!" he exclaimed as he pumped with fervor and feeling. "Ohhh, baby, I wish you could milk it with your mouth. You would love it. I'd give you a hot mouthful."
The thought of going down on Ken did entice and intrigue Linda Livingstone. No student had ever been so bold before. Perhaps no young male student had ever been so horny for her body.
Linda vividly recalled a lover in college that she had been fascinated with. However, when she refused to give him sex he left her high and dry. She had graduated with flying colors and honors. But there was a part of her that was not satisfied – and that was the part that was responding now.