His penis jerked spasmodically against her thigh and she could suddenly feel a great flood of hot wet liquid shoot out from the tip of the lust-bloated head. The white-hot sperm flooded down over and inundated the soft golden fleece of her pubic hair, seeping hotly on down through the still tightly locked crevice between her legs to moisten her tautly clenched buttocks on the blanket below. It felt as though she was being drowned by a seemingly never-ending torrent of creamy liquid fire as the heavily perspiring male body writhed and panted explosively over her hopelessly resisting nakedness.
At last, his testicles now empty, Roger collapsed on top of her in almost sobbing passion. They lay together in shameful silence for a long moment and then he slowly rolled away from her and sat up, not able to face her. Miriam placed an arm over her eyes and began to softly cry, while Roger, subdued of his sexual frenzy, was awkward with guilt and embarrassment as he tried to comfort her.
"I… I'm sorry, Miriam. Really I am. I… I don't know what came over me. I… I've never tried to force myself on a girl before."
"It's me," the lovely teacher sobbed. "I told you it was me. I'm more to blame than you because I should have stopped you sooner. You… you're a man, after all." She felt soiled and humiliated as if a thousand tiny insects were invading the very pores of her skin. "You're a man, but I…" she ended the sentence in a woeful sigh.
"And you're a woman," Roger muttered softly. "One hell of a woman."
Am I? she questioned herself mournfully. No… not in the sense Roger means it. If I was really a woman, I'd be loving him up inside me right now instead of feeling like this…
For an agonizing moment, Miriam debated whether she could unburden her troubled heart to Roger. But she knew if she did blurt out the truth it would twist whatever love he held for her into coldly repugnant hatred. He would reject her as all other normal people had when they'd discovered her horrible perversion. She rose in mute agony and recovered her white nylon panties and then spread her thighs slightly in a humiliated effort to cleanse herself. She wiped away the wetness of his sperm with them as best she could, trying not to show any outward sign of her inner misery. She threw the semen-drenched panties away from her, shivering thankfully as they landed out of sight behind a clump of shrubbery.
"I think we should go back to town, Roger," she said in a dull voice.
"Look, darling, we can stay and finish our picnic. I won't touch you again. I promise."
"No," she said, swallowing thickly. She slipped on her shorts without the panties and smoothed them over her still nervously trembling buttocks. "No, I really want to leave here. I can't stand the place anymore, Roger."
He shook his head sadly, realizing that he had drunkenly ruined his chances of making love to Miriam today by being overly insistent. He hadn't properly estimated the extent of passion he had aroused in her and had moved to fuck her before she was ready.
Christ, he wanted her all the more for this and he secretly promised himself that the next time he wouldn't fail. He looked sad-faced at Miriam, but even now his apologies were so shallow that he feared she'd see through it.
"Well… if you insist," he said. "But I want to see you again."
"I-I don't know, Roger. After what happened…"
"But that's just it darling. It happened. We both got carried away and it just plain happened. Don't let us ruin an otherwise wonderful relationship because of one mistake."
Miriam thought about it for a few minutes as she buttoned her blouse. She truly was attracted to him and believed that he was telling her the truth, and the gnawing desire to continue to see him overcame her fears and apprehensions.
"All right, Roger," she replied in a soft tone. "Not for a few days, though. I-I want a chance to rest and think things over."
"I understand, darling. How about next Friday night?"
"I'm afraid I can't. Our principal, Mr. Bixbee, has picked me to help him chaperone the Freshman-Sophomore dance at school. But Saturday would be good."
"Then Saturday it is, darling. We'll spend the whole day together if you like."
"I'll try to hold myself back," he offered good-naturedly.
"All right, Roger." She smiled tentatively and gently touched his cheek with her fingertips. "And you better."
"Hey, wait a minute," he kidded. "This isn't a forever promise. Every man has the right to unlimited tries. Particularly with the woman he loves."
She turned away from him, stooping down beside Buck so she could pick up the picnic plates and hide from Roger a sudden surge of tears that were blurring her eyes. Yes, try, Roger… Try and maybe some day I'll be the woman you think I am… Oh God, I pray I will…
CHAPTER TWO
The brilliant California sun streamed into the bedroom of Miriam Dodge's back-street cottage. She turned on her bed, sleepily shielding her eyes from the brightness that played over her face, and tucking the thin sheet higher over her otherwise naked body as a slight, cooling breeze blew gently over it from the partially open window. It was the morning of another beautiful, warm Indian summer day, but the troubled woman was too upset to enjoy the unseasonably delightful weather.
As she slowly came awake and the thickness of her sleep filtered from her mind, she realized that it had been the distant tolling of church bells which had awakened her. Now other sounds began to dimly reach her ears, and she could faintly hear the soft rustlings of the bushes beneath her window and the laughing shouts of boys playing in the field across the street. But then came the whirring of a hand mower cutting grass nearby, and she could feel blood rushing to her head and her body shiver uncontrollably beneath the sheet as if a cold wind had passed over her.
She tried to blot out the mower's sound, for it was her yard that was being cut as it was every Sunday morning – and the amateur young gardener earning a few spending dollars was none other than Roger's handsome son, Mark Trenton. With every passing sweep he made, Miriam was reminded of what had happened with the boy's father the previous afternoon. She could again feel the heady influence of the too much wine she had drank… and her hungry response to the man's intense advances… and the rising fires of her own passion as she had surrendered to him while he'd slowly removed her clothes. Once more she could see herself writhing in naked passion upon the picnic blanket before him and his German Shepherd dog, and could feel the yearning passion as he'd softly caressed her naked breasts and genitals to a fever pitch of excitement… And then the unwanted panic gripping her mind as she'd felt his erect, throbbing hardness against her trembling thighs and the uncontrollable horror that had clutched her when she'd felt him spew his hot white semen over her fear-cringing vaginal lips…
Oh God, even when she loved a man she was unable to sexually respond the way she should. The threat of his love-making had turned her into a desperately terrified woman. It was still as it had always been with her; only the vibrantly eager penises of young boys could drive her insane with lusting desire, and she terrifyingly knew that what she'd not been able to bring herself to accept from Roger she would hungrily welcome from his teen-age son. And the lovely, handsome fourteen year-old youth was just a few feet away, innocently unaware of her unspeakable desire for him…
Miriam thrashed miserably on the bed for a few more minutes, but gradually she regained most of her control. She couldn't stay in bed, if for no other reason than Mark would soon be finished with the yard and she had to be dressed when he came to be paid. And besides, she firmly resolved, staying here was no answer; she had to bravely face her lewd weakness and learn how to conquer it somehow. Resolutely, Miriam rose up naked from her bed, her golden-tanned body gleaming radiantly from the streaming sun. She started across to the bathroom, trying to avert her eyes from the temptation to look out the window, but in spite of her best intentions, she found she was unable to keep from glancing outside. Her eyes locked in shameful hunger on the grassy field across the way, and she felt herself lingering in front of the window as she studied the lithe young adolescent bodies as they excitedly practiced football.