Oh no! he groaned inwardly, his heart sinking into his belly. Atilla had managed to get out again, perhaps by jumping over the fence, and now he'd have to spend the morning searching for him. And if he weren't back by noon with him, he'd get another beating more'n likely! Crap, where could he've gone? Not back to Mrs. Hamilton's, he prayed! No… any place but there!
Then the fourteen year old heard the familiar bark of the large German shepherd, and he sighed in great relief. The bark had come nearby, from the Benson place next door. Scott hurried down the steps and across to the connecting gate in the fence. He fumbled with the catch in his haste, then walked through into the Benson backyard.
Sure enough, Atilla was there. With the dog was Curtis Benson, the sixteen year old youth who went to the same high school as Scott, but in the next grade higher. Benson was in tennis shoes and a pair of faded jeans, and was bare from the waist up. He was just the kind of boy Scott wished himself to be, with a well-developed chest and arms, and thick, black hair his parents let him wear to his shoulders. His face was hard and patrician with a hawk-like nose and a thin mouth, and when he was mad, all he had to do was look at you, and you knew he was one mean mother to tangle with. He went out for all the sports, and was always making the junior teams, and the coaches were already figuring him for first-string next year. He got all the girls he tried for, and some he didn't, and many times Scott had heard him boasting and swaggering about laying this broad or that one. Once Curtis had shown Scott a used condom with its top tied in a knot to keep the cum in it, and had told him that he'd used it the night before on a virgin girl. Curtis went out with Marge Spanner a lot, but that was nothing special to boast about banging, since nearly the only guy in school she hadn't spread for was Scott.
Now Scott stood watching the older boy playing with Atilla. Curtis was throwing a rubber ball against the fence for the large, romping dog to retrieve, laughing while Atilla barked joyfully at the exercise. He took the ball from Atilla's massive jaws and was about to throw it again when he saw Scott there, and he paused to wave.
"You oughta be more careful about your hound, Scott," Curtis said with a broad grin. "I found him here fooling with the ball when I came out this morning."
"Yeah, he's hell to keep in, all right," Scott replied, walking over. "But shit, if we chain him, he just sits and howls all the time, and that's no good."
"I heard some other howling last night," the older boy chuckled. "You — when your ol' Man was taking the belt to you."
Scott didn't reply.
"How'd it go over at Mrs. Hamilton's, kid? Was the dog there?"
This time Scott looked up in startlement, his eyes widening. "How… how did you know that?"
"Hell, I was out with Marge last night, and she told me that's probably why you got smacked around."
"Did she… did she say anything else?"
"Uh-uh. Only that she'd told you Mrs. Hamilton had the dog, and you were going there to fetch it. Why, what happened? Did Mrs. Hamilton screw you? Haw! Fat chance of that! A woman like her would grind your nubbin clean off!"
Scott felt his face livid with burning embarrassment, and he gritted his teeth together to keep from blurting out the truth. Even if he didn't fuck Mrs. Hamilton, it was still a wild story to tell, and just one time, just once! He'd like to have something big enough to wipe that smirk off Curtis' face.
"Hey, you're blushing, Scott! Don't tell me you've got the hots for her!" Curtis snickered and with a glint in his eye, he nudged the younger boy in the ribs. "Well, there're worse dames to want. Too bad she's such a prude, though, all that fine meat going to waste. I hear tell she hasn't let a man near her since her husband left, and shit, that must've been a century ago! 'Course now, if she don't hanker after men, she just might go for you. You could drop your drawers and she could get out her microscope, and who knows? You might just tickle her fancy!"
That was the last straw. It was more than the tormented boy could stand, feeling his frustration and pent-up resentment goaded beyond endurance, his immature mind still reeling from the shattering experience of the night before. He knew it was a mistake to say anything, but he was unable to resist the temptation, and quivering with overwrought emotion, he burst out:
"Yeah? That's all you know, Curtis! I could tell you a couple of things about her'n me. I sure could if I wanted to!"
"Don't make me laugh, dingle-ass," the older boy scoffed. "Next thing you'll be saying is that you did screw Mrs. Hamilton."
"I didn't," Scott said hotly. "But Atilla did!"
"That's even a better one!" Curtis snickered gleefully. "Whad'ya do, kid, stay awake nights thinking up stories while you flip your pecker?"
"Listen, I'm telling you straight!" Scott was red all over his face and down his neck now, his words tumbling out before he had a chance to consider what he was doing. "I went over to her house, just like Marge told you. But when I went in, Mrs. Hamilton was naked as a jaybird, hunched over with her bum in the air and Atilla was licking her snatch!"
"The dog? Atilla? The dog was licking Mrs. Hamilton's box?" Curtis frowned, bewildered as he caught the younger boy's intensity and earnestness. "You're putting me on, aren't you?"
"The truth!" Scott said excitedly, and seeing he'd finally gotten Curtis' attention, he rushed on with his obscene story. "So I was watching it, and then she sees me and gets all embarrassed. But not for long, because she gets up and walks over to where I'm standing — and not a stitch on, either! She starts kissing me and hugging me and before I know it, she's got my clothes off, too! Man, my prick was like a stone!"
"She-eit!" Curtis gasped, his eyes widening as he soaked it all in. "So then what happened?"
"Well, we get up on the bed and she crawls over me on her hands and knees, her titties swaying like cow-bells! I even got to suck one. 'Suck my tittie!' she told me. 'Suck my tittie!' And I do, nearly chewing it off I was so hot, and then she moves down and starts sucking my pecker instead. Wow! That was great!"
"Sucked you off!" Curtis' eyes were rolling around in his head like marbles now, his brain dizzy from the lurid tale he was hearing. "But what about the dog banging her? What about that?"
"I'm coming to that! So here was Mrs. Hamilton with my dork in her mouth, moaning and writhing around like it was a big stick of candy, and then Atilla hops on the bed and he…"
As the fourteen year old boy recounted the lewd and noisome mounting of the chemistry teacher by his dog, Curtis Benson listened with baited breath. He could picture it all, especially the scene when Atilla's fat dog-cock sank into the older woman's cunt like a sledgehammer! In spite of his own experiences with girls, he'd never been a party to anything half so torrid, and he began to feel a certain vicarious response, his own stubby penis starting to throb in his pants with excitement.
So Mrs. Hamilton is hot to trot for boys and dogs, is she? A thin smile of prurient desire creased his lips as the teenager thought of how nice a piece of her would be. And hell, he was a boy, too, wasn't he? Curtis was willing to bet that she'd be willing to spread her pussy for him, since she'd been so eager for Scott and Atilla. And even if Mrs. Hamilton weren't willing, there might not be much she could do about saying no…
The wickedly aroused youth turned his undivided attention back to Scott just as the story rolled to a finish.
"That dog of yours sure knows the score," Curtis commented breathlessly. "He works faster than I do! I wonder who trained him to fuck women!"
"I… I don't know," Scott stammered meekly.
"Maybe your dad, you think? Yeah, that's why he gets so uptight when Atilla breaks loose. He's afraid the damned dog will run around screwing all the neighbor ladies! Haw! And come back home with the clap or something!"