Chapter 02 -Recalling The Good Times
Please take note! Adults Only Literature
The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for
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If you are an underage minor or offended by such material -or- if viewing this
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This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise
is purely coincidental, etc.
Copyright 2003
***
"What am I getting myself into?" Mike asked himself. He was seated on the
couch trying to watch the Red Sox play a second game of a twilight doubleheader.
Denise was working the 3 to 11 shift this week and wouldn't be home for several
hours.
"I just fucked a fifty four year old woman and did it like an alley cat
putting it to a pampered 'best in show' Persian. Fran was definitely no longer
young but she still makes my cock hard just looking at those big tits. My God,
her nipples are even bigger than I remembered them. And the way her cunt milked
his cock. He had felt muscles in her cunt walls pulsing and squeezing his cock.
My God what a fuck that woman is even after all these years. Mike noticed he was
starting to get hard again thinking about this afternoon. He let his memory
wander back twenty years.
Mike's dad had up and disappeared one day leaving his Mother to raise him. His
parents hadn't fought or argued. Mike's old man had just left one day to work in
the glass factory and never come home. After a while, the police decided that he
had just gotten tired of married life and skipped town. "Happens all the time,"
declared the police officer.
The loss of his father's weekly paycheck occasioned him and his mother to slip
down the economic scale. They had to sell the house and move into a small
two-bedroom apartment where his mother's salary as a clerk in the local
department store could cover the rent. Terrace Place had blue collar written all
over it. It wasn't exactly a ghetto and the residents were honest and hard
working but it still wasn't the kind of place you looked at and announced, "I
want to live there." No, residents of Terrace Place lived there because that was
all the rent they could afford.
Mike had turned fourteen that summer and found himself moved to a different
school district. All the kids he considered friends and thought he would be
going to high school with now lived on the other side of town. Mike could
vividly recall the first time he met Fran and Morty. It was a Saturday and his
mother had to work. He decided to leave the apartment and explore the
neighborhood. He was in the hallway of Building 2 when he first heard Fran's
voice.
"Hey kid, you want to make a couple of bucks?" Mike heard a voice as he was
waiting for the elevator. Mike turned around and there was a tall blonde woman
wearing a pink robe and a pink pair of shoes that people called scuffs. "Pink"
was his first impression, a bright garish pink that almost seemed to glow. The
scuffs had a clear Plexiglas heel and a funny pink set of feathers on the front.
The robe was a bright satin pink. She was standing in the doorway of the
apartment directly across the hall from his. The robe was slightly open and one
leg was visible up to mid thigh.
"Me, you talking to me?" asked Mike
"No, I'm talking to myself. You see anybody else here in this hallway. I asked
if you wanted to run an errand and make a couple of bucks."
"Sure, what do you need?" asked Mike
"I just phoned an order into the drug store over on Melrose. The chink bastard
that owns the place tacks on a $5.00 delivery charge. But if you go get it, I'll
give you say $2.50 and save $2.50. It's only five or six blocks. Interested?"
asked Fran
"Sure," Mike replied. Hell he wasn't doing anything and the money could come
in handy.
"Come in here and let me give you some money," said Fran disappearing from her
doorway. Mike followed her into the apartment. Fran was standing there digging
her wallet out of an enormous black purse.
"Tell Charlie Chan or whatever the fuck his name is that the order is for the
Feinsteins. It's a carton of Camels, a carton of Salems and a case of Schlitz.
Here's two twenties, that should be enough," said Fran offering the money to
Mike.
Mike recalled the drugstore was more like ten blocks away but he had a good
bike with a luggage rack over the rear wheel. He tied the order on with a bungee
cord and managed to get everything back to Terrace Place without a mishap. Fran
opened the door wearing the same bathrobe and scuffs.
"That was quick. Morty, come get a beer and meet the neighbor kid," yelled
Fran.
"What's your name? I can't keep calling you kid."
"Mike Perkins. My mom is Inez Perkins. We just moved here." Mike replied
"I'm Fran Feinstein and Morty's my husband. Where did you move here from,
Mike?" asked Fran.
"We had a house over in Elmdale."
"Elmdale is pretty nice. You and your mom must have a reason for relocating to
this dump."
"My dad left us. The house cost more than Mom could afford."
"Hard times, huh, kid. Put the beer in the fridge, Mike"
When Mike returned to the Living Room, Fran was seated in a cushioned armchair
with her legs straight out on an ottoman. On the end table there was two ones
and fifty cents in change. There was a thin older man seated on the couch
smoking a cigarette. Morty was one of those human beings that seemed to have
zero percent body fat. Morty reminded Mike of a kite, just paper stretched tight
over wooden sticks. No muscle and no fat just skins and bones. He was the
complete opposite of Fran who while not exactly fat bordered on it. Mike's
grandmother would have called Fran 'hefty'. Fran was also several inches taller
than Morty.
"Morty this is Mike, He went over on Melrose and got our order," said Fran.
"Where's the Schlitz?" asked Morty who glanced at Mike but didn't really
acknowledge the introduction.
"In the fridge, Mike get Morty a beer, would you?" asked Fran.
Mike returned the kitchen, got a bottle from the refrigerator and felt it, and
called out, "they're not cold."
"Bring him one anyway," Fran yelled back. Mike located an opener and returned
to the living room handing the warm open bottle of beer to Morty. Morty took a
swallow and let out a sigh that Mike interpreted to mean, "Morty was satisfied."
"There's your money on the table. Will you do me one more favor?" asked Fran.
"Sure."
"I just got off from work, been on my feet all night. I'm a floor supervisor
for Ma Bell. You know how to give a foot rub?" asked Fran.
"I've never done it before."
"Never too late to learn, where does your Mom work?"
"She sells cosmetics over at Blevins's Department Store."
"So she's on her feet all day too, surprised she hasn't taught you to rub her
feet, sit down on the end of the ottoman," said Fran.
Mike recalled sitting down and taking Fran's feet is his hands and positioning
them between his legs. He was sitting straddle on the ottoman. Fran had let the
robe fall open and was wearing a bra, a short half-slip, and light colored
stockings. God everything she was wearing was pink. Mike stared at the open
robe.
"Never seen a woman in her undies?" asked Fran but she didn't cover anything
up.
"Sorry, what do I do?"
"Let's start with the left foot. Move in closer and pick it up and put it in
your lap."
Mike did as he was told, careful not to touch Fran's foot to his groin area.
Mike placed his left hand under the heel of Fran's left foot and raised it up,
causing Fran's slip to move up, exposing more thighs.
"Now carefully and slowly roll my toes back and forth while you squeeze my
instep. Not too hard, but hard enough so I can feel it, then slowly bend the
front of the foot up and down."
Over the next ten minutes, Mike mastered the art of foot massage. Actually, he
remembered there wasn't much to it. As Mike massaged the right foot, Fran
relaxed to the point where her slip rode up to where Mike could plainly see her
pink panties. They were slightly askew and Mike could see tuffs of hair slipping
out of one of the legs bands. Fran seemed to be asleep so Mike kept massaging
her feet and moving her legs to get a better view of her crotch. Mike was
concentrating on maximizing the amount of pussy hair visible beyond the elastic
of the leg when Fran said.
"Never seen a pussy before, Mike?"
"No," said Mike as he jumped and dropped the foot he was massaging back onto
the ottoman.
"Don't stop, perfectly normal for a young boy to want to catch a peek of a
hairy snatch. Isn't it? Morty" asked Fran
"What? I didn't get that," replied Morty.
"Goddamn it, Morty, pay attention when I'm talking. I said it was perfectly
normal for a young boy to want to catch a peek at my pussy."
"Yea, it's normal. All boys like to look at pussy. I know I did when I was his
age," said Morty
"How old are you Mike?" asked Fran.
"Fourteen last month," Mike replied.
"Morty, how old were you when you saw your first pussy?" asked Fran.
"Cindy showed me hers when I was eleven."
"Bastard can hardly remember his name but he can probably tell you the exact
date, time, and place, his sister showed him her cunt. Now why am I not
surprised? Cindy is Morty's older sister and a total fucking slut. Every
swinging dick in Springfield dipped his wick in Cindy Feinsteins tail. She's had
more bones in her than a graveyard," laughed Fran.
"Cindy's married now. She's got two kids," said Morty.
"Yea, but neither of them looks like Frank her husband. The youngest, Donnie,
looks just like that Italian she works for at the auto dealer. No wonder she
gets a new car every year she probably sucks his greasy Wop dick every day,"
said Fran.
"The car goes with the job. It's part of her pay," said Morty.
"Yea, you and Frank believe everything that little cunt says. It all goes to
prove that men will believe anything a woman says as long as she lets them fuck
her," said Fran.
"Cindy does okay," Morty said ending that particular conversation.
"So when did you get your first look, Mike?" asked Fran
"I haven't ever seen a woman down there." Mike replied
"You never sneaked a peek t your Mom or played doctor with a neighbor girl,"
asked Fran?
"No, never," said Mike although he had come close a couple of times. Mike
remembered when one of the girls in his old neighborhood had shown her tits to
Mike and several friends. They had been in the basement of Mike's best friend's
house and Debbie Walker had taken her blouse and bra off on a dare. She was
going to show them more but his friend's Mom came home and everybody had to
leave.
"So would you like to see how a pussy looks?" asked Fran
"Yes," was all Mike could manage? His throat felt incredibly dry. Was Fran
really going to expose herself to him with her husband sitting a few feet away?
"As a reward for doing my feet, remember today is June 20th and the time is
10:45, this is how a pussy looks," said Fran as she reached down and grabbed the
waistband of her half-slip and panties and slipped them down to her knees.
"Pull them the rest of the way off," directed Fran.
Mike grabbed the rolled up slip and panties and pulled them all the way off
then handed them back to Fran. Mike looked between Fran's legs at the large
triangle of black hair."
"Hold my legs up and apart and I'll show you how it all works," said Fran.
Mike picked up Fran's legs at the ankles and raised them up while he spread
them wider. He recalled thinking her legs were heavy and hard to hold up while
he was in a sitting position. Fran reached down and parted the triangle of black
hair.
"See that little knobby thing. That's a clitoris and that's what gets a girl
hot. If I rub it like this it feels real good. It feels even better if you get
it wet first with a little spit. Go ahead and spit on it for me," said Fran.
Mike fought off the urge to panic and run. He looked at Fran's spread open
pussy and the little knob of flesh. He certainly wanted to do something with it
but he didn't know about spitting on it.
"Go ahead, lean over real close and give it a little spit, it won't bite you,"
said Fran.
Mike slowly leaned forward. Fran gave him a little help by dangling one leg
over an arm of the chair. When Mike got close, the smell of Fran's cunt invaded
his nostrils. There was definitely a urine smell but there was also the same
musky odor he had gotten when he took a pair of his mother's panties out of the
dirty laundry hamper and smelled them.
"You like the smell of pussy?" asked Fran.
"Yes, it smells like my mother's," Mike responded then realized in a panic
what he had just said.
"Oh, your Mom lets you smell her pussy," said Fran immediately picking up on
what Mike had let slip.
"No, she doesn't do that."
"Oh, somebody has been going through the dirty clothes. I bet you've buried
that little snout in Momma's drawers. They're probably pretty ripe after a day
working at Blevins. Hey Morty, you ever smell your Mom's drawers?" asked Fran.
"Sure, every kid does that some time, its just natural," said Morty.
"Yea, its natural if your name is Feinstein and you are poor white trailer
trash from upstate New York," said Fran.
"My people had money, my daddy was a contractor," said Morty
"Your daddy did odd jobs for people. Just to prove my point, Morty once fucked
his own Mom, you fucked that drunken slut when she was passed out, didn't you
Morty?" said Fran.
"Dammit Fran, I told you not to tell people about that, that was a secret
between us."
"Don't worry, Mike can keep a secret. Can't you Mike?" asked Fran. Mike was
staring at Fran's pussy while she talked. He was trying to figure out how to
accurately spit on the little knob. One thing Mike did know was that spit was
not accurate. He almost felt light headed from the strong aroma emanating from
Fran's triangle. He broke his concentration and leaned away from Fran's pussy to
reply, "Yes, I can keep a secret."
"Sure you can. Morty's family lived in Elmira, a real shit town near
Schenectady. Mom and Dad had been to a bar and came home shit faced drunk. They
were so fucking drunk that Morty's Dad screwed her right on the living room
floor then they both passed out cold. Morty watched them fuck from the kitchen;
then since Mother Feinstein was lying there all spread out, her skirt up around
her waist and her twat leaking out dad's spunk, Morty decided to get him a
little. So he climbed on top of the drunken cunt and fucked his own mother. She
stayed passed out through the whole thing. Now if that's not white trash
behavior, what is?" said Fran.
"Lot of boys want to fuck there own mother, only natural," responded Morty.
"Mike, you ever thought about fucking your mother? I bet you'd like to stick
that cock of yours I Mom's snatch and hear her moan," asked Fran
"No, " replied Mike but he knew it was a lie. Lately, he had been fantasizing
about climbing on top of his mother and fucking her until she begged him to
stop.
"But you are willing to bury your nose in her dirty pants and give them a good
sniff. And I bet your little prick got hard when you did it. Morty may be right.
All you men want to fuck your Mom," said Fran as if she were repeating a
universal truth.
"I thought you were going to spit on my clit, lost your nerve?" asked Fran.
Mike immediately leaned forward again.
"Just slowly drop a nice glob on it. Just drool it out and let it fall," said
Fran who had taken Mike's head in her hands and pulled it to where his face was
inches from her pussy. Much to Mike's surprise he successfully targeted a nice
big gob of spit right onto Fran's clit. Fran pushed his head back and started to
swirl his spit around and on her clitoris. Mike realized he was hard as a rock.
"Now that feels good," said Fran who was slowly rubbing Mike's spit into her
clitoris. Fran reached down with her other hand and spread her cunt lips wider
to reveal to Mike the opening to her vagina.
"That's the hole. A pussy's only got two working parts, the clit and the hole.
The hole is where you put your cock and the clit is what makes it feel so good
for a woman to get fucked. You want to watch while I get myself off?" asked
Fran.
Mike only managed to nod in reply. His throat felt dry as toast. He kept
pressing one of Fran's feet because he knew that if he stopped, his hands would
be shaking like a leaf. Fran was using two fingers to work his spit around her
clitoris. It had expanded a little and changed to a darker color since she
started. Mike's cock was hard as a rock. The only sounds in the room were Mike's
hands rubbing Fran's stocking feet. Fran's hand was moving quickly over the
surface surrounding her clit pausing occasionally to give the knob of flesh a
little light pinch. Mike stayed motionless as Fran's breathing increased its
pace, her enormous chest starting to rise and fall heavily. Finally she sucked
in a couple of deep breaths, twisted around in the chair and let out a loud sigh
as she finished.
"Oh shit, fuck, that was good. Nothing like getting yourself off while your
feet are rubbed. Whew, that emptied my tan," said Fran as she collapsed back in
into the armchair.
Mike had been totally mesmerized. He had actually watched a woman jerk off.
Something he had not been entirely sure woman even did. But there it was. The
lips around Fran's pussy glistened with moisture. The clit was sticking out and
red as fire.
"Kid, you better gets home. I need to get to sleep. I got another night shift
to work this weekend," said Fran. Mike slowly stood up, his legs cramped from
sitting straddle on the ottoman so long.
"Morty, look at Mike's boner," said Fran as Mike stood up. His cock forced his
jeans straight out. Morty didn't answer. He was staring out in space. Fran
didn't seem to expect Morty to reply.
"I'm sorry," said Mike.
"Nothing to be sorry about. I'd have taken you for a queer if you had gotten a
stiffy watching me masturbate. Maybe next time, I'll let you take yours out and
we can get off together."
Mike had gotten up and left. He hurried back to his apartment and jerked off
several times. "Maybe she'll let me fuck her," Mike had thought. Mike took a
bottle of Jergen's lotion out of his nightstand and played with himself as he
thought about Fran's cunt spread out, her fingers racing up and down the sides
of her clitoris. He had stayed in bed and jerked off until his mother came home
from work.
When Mike's Mom undressed and put on a housecoat and parked herself in front
of the television, he had walked into the living room and said.
"I ran an errand for the couple across the hall. I made $2.50," said Mike.
"That's nice. Do they seem like nice people? I need to meet all the neighbors
in the building," said Inez.
"Yea, they're nice. She asked me to massage her feet. She works at night. She
said I should offer to massage yours seeing as how you stand on them all day at
work," said Mike
"You massaged her feet that sounds very cozy. How old a woman is she. Was it
just the two of you?" asked Inez in a voice that indicated a level of concern.
"Her husband Morty was right there. He watched me do it," said Mike
"Oh, I guess that's all right then. My feet could use a little rubbing, show
me what you learned," said Inez comfortable now that she had found out that the
husband was there.
Mike moved a straight chair into place and took one of his mother's feet in
his hands. Mike's mom adjusted her housecoat so Mike couldn't see anything. Mike
started to rub his mother's feet like Fran had taught him.
"Oh, that does feel good. What's the neighbor lady's name?" Mother asked as
Mike went to work.
"Fran, and her husband's Morty. Their last name is Feinstein. Morty's from
Elmira, New York and Fran works for the telephone company," said Mike as he
carefully massaged one of his mother's feet.
Mike put the foot he had been working on down and picked the other one up,
raising it higher and wider than was absolutely necessary.
"Behave yourself," said Inez as she adjusted her housecoat. Inez reminded
herself it was only natural for a young boy to be curious even about his mother
but it was the mother's role to keep things within certain bounds.
That brought Mike back to the present. Yes, it was twenty years ago that Fran
had shown him her pussy and played with herself in front of him. "Hottest
fucking day of my life, well at least one of the hottest," whispered Mike to
himself.
Mike saw that the game was almost over and that the Red Sox were loosing as
normal. Mike pulled his cock out and started to play with it. He relived that
day with Fran and came quickly. He grabbed a tissue off the end table and wiped
cum off his cock and hand. He placed the tissue on the end table. The Sox were
attempting a rally in the bottom of the ninth. Mike watched for a few minutes
then drifted off to sleep lying on the couch with his cock out.
That was the way Denise found him when she got home at 11:30.
