The Lighthouse of Kings Head

He had gone too far on his bike. Behind him, the storm was approaching, gusts swept across the path, and he threatened to topple over. Straining, he pedaled on, glancing back over his shoulder again and again, looking anxiously up at the black cloud bank. The first drops fell hard and forced him to make a decision.

To turn back was probably no longer possible, until home it was certainly 2 or 3 hours. After all, he had driven the whole morning, now it might already be 4 or 5 o'clock in the afternoon. He could only follow the winding coastal path and hope that soon a village or at least a house would appear. His mother had cautiously warned him, even admitting to him that she worried when her fourteen‐year‐old set off alone on a bike ride along the cliff. He had only laughed and assured her that it was "nothing", that other people of the same age had already gone much further, and that he wanted to be back in the evening. She had looked at him inquiringly, and he then reluctantly admitted that yesterday's experience was depressing him. That he wanted to be alone with his thoughts for a while was only unconsciously clear to him. She was silent and looked down at the floor. It was all right, she said, nothing had happened that he should worry about, the guilt was all hers. Uncertainly she looked him in the eye, then quickly turned and went back into the house. He should not see that she wept bitterly.

It was raining heavily now, the rain showers were repeatedly blown away horizontally by the gusts and swept over him. Clouds of mist emerged from the forest, condensed, and moved toward the sea. Suddenly the lighthouse appeared in the mist in front of him. He pedaled on wildly, thinking hard; but he couldn't remember seeing a lighthouse on the map he had studied diligently. But it didn't matter now, at least he could shelter there.

The closer he got, the more clearly he could see through the rain that light was still burning upstairs, in one of the small windows. He stopped short and wiped his wet hair out of his eyes with the back of his hand. The light was now clearly visible. He breathed a sigh of relief. An inhabited lighthouse offered real safety from the storm. He pedaled until he reached the building. He placed the bicycle caringly next to the front door, since there seemed to be no place to put it. Then he ran his fingers through his wet hair and rang the bell. For a long time nothing moved, he rang the bell again with a loud heartbeat up to his neck. Then a wooden staircase creaked, he heard footsteps and then the door opened.

The woman – she must surely already be about seventy – stared at him sullenly. Then she saw his wet clothes, wet hair, and the raindrops running down his face. "Well, come in quick," creaked her deep voice, and he scurried past her, into the gloom of the anteroom. She closed the door and locked it.

"What are you doing out here, in weather like this?" she asked, following up with, "Where are you from, what's your name?"

"Jack Lock," he replied, "I live in Lambert Barns and was going to take my bike for a little ride down the coast road today. But then the weather turned up" he muttered miserably at the end.

"Well, come on then" she said, already a little more approachable than when she started. "I'm Helen Fowler, the lighthouse keeper. My husband" she sighed deeply and went up two steps, "my husband died tragically many years ago, and now I have taken his place." Widow Fowler led the way, up the stairs. He followed her up to the second floor. It was surprisingly spacious, a tiny open kitchen, a small table with two chairs, six small windows, and a large, odd‐looking wooden box. Since the room was round, the rise of the spiral staircase took up a quarter, as did the spiral staircase leading up further on the opposite side.

She went to the small gas stove and handled the pots. Only after a while did she seem to notice that he was still standing on the landing. "Well, sit down, sit down!" she said, pointing to one of the chairs with the potholder. He sat down on the edge of the chair, and after a few minutes she poured tea, then brought the teapot along with cups and a basket of cookies to the table. "How absent‐minded I seem to be today!" she muttered, shaking her head as she glanced at his wet clothes, then quickly went to the closet and took out a jacket and a pair of trousers, then ordered him to change.

He obeyed, but she had to specifically ask him to take off his wet underwear as well. He blushed all over as he stood there completely naked after taking off his wet clothes. She looked at his slim boy body for a long time while he hastily twisted and turned the pants to be able to put them on, but got completely tangled up. It was very confusing, because it seemed to him that she was not as old as she had seemed when he entered. No, she was definitely younger, much younger. Of course, he got everything even more confused by her gaze, which rested long and curiously on his penis. She stood up and came around the table, taking the pants from his hand and turning them around so that he could finally put them on.

Obediently, he drank the hot, spicy tea that he usually got lukewarm and watered down because his mother had to economize everywhere. She asked him again about his where from and where to, then she said that he already looked very grown up for his fourteen years and after a glance at the wall clock she asked what he was up to now. But right after that she answered her question herself: "Of course you can't go home in this bad weather. You'll have to spend the night here, maybe the storm will be over tomorrow!" He bit his lips and squirmed back and forth on the chair.

Energically, she went to the phone, which was mounted on the wall next to the closet. "It's already 9 over," she said, shaking her head, "you have to notify your parents!" He looked at the old pendulum clock in disbelief. It was indeed already a quarter past nine, although by the feel of it he would have guessed more like 5 or 6 o'clock. He muttered that he had only one mother and gave her telephone number, for the Widow Fowler was waiting, receiver in hand. Kindly she spoke to his mother, fluting how nice the boy was and that she couldn't justify letting him drive home in this sour weather, in this storm. She told her not to worry, that he would be safe here in the lighthouse, and then she gave her own telephone number, so that Mrs. Lock could call her at any time. As if they had known each other for a long time the two ladies gossiped for a while longer, then Mrs. Fowler hung up.

"Everything is fine," she said and went back to the stove, "and now you must be hungry, I'll make you something warm!". Without waiting for his answer, she began to fiddle with the stove. In no time she had fried potatoes and two eggs, which he gratefully accepted and gobbled down with ravenous hunger. Outside the storm howled and raged, heavy showers of rain slapped against the window panes. She went to the closet box and, to his surprise, flipped out a bed. Noticing his glance, she chattered, "For centuries, we lighthouse tower people have slept in box beds like this," as she busily prepared the bed. "There, that's where we'll sleep!" she said with satisfaction, after she had again made up the sheets and pillows a little. "I guess it looks small and cramped, but that's where my Blessed One and I slept for decades!" she said when she saw the look of despair on his face. She completely ignored the fact that he was getting confused and anxious at the thought of not having a bed of his own, but there really wasn't another bed there.

The idea of sleeping with a complete stranger, of sleeping in the same bed as her, dawned on him slowly. But somehow he calmed down quickly, because she wasn't really old, he had only imagined that, she was young, at least younger than his mother and suddenly he didn't find anything wrong with it, on the contrary, at the thought of the new uncertain a certain cheerfulness spread. He looked at her again, and he was sure that she could hardly be older than twenty. His eyes had probably played a trick on him – how could he have thought her old, seventy!?

However, he was not prepared for the next surprise. She stood with her back to him, letting her dress slide to the floor and smiling softly, as if she had eyes in the back and could see his bafflement, his surprise. He was so spellbound by her nakedness that he simply did not realize the intentionality of it. She turned emphatically slowly and partly completely superfluously here and there to take care of her clothes. He stared at her the whole time, blushing as she slowly spun around.

Her body was really pretty and seemed surprisingly young. Something bothered him about that thought; yes, when she had opened the door upon his arrival, she had seemed much older and he couldn't understand why she could seem so much younger now. The large breasts, which seemed plump and firm, excited him as did the black triangle of pubis. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his reaction, giving him plenty of time to look at her.

Then she turned back around and bent down to straighten the shoes beside the bed, carefully folding the stockings and tucking them into the shoes – taking much more time than necessary. She smiled at the thought that she was showing him her charms completely unashamedly, that he was now staring at her spread buttocks and the dimly visible cunt beneath them and almost expiring from the pounding of his heart. With a knowing smile, she remained bent over and pretended to keep looking for shoes under the bed, but in this bent‐over position she widened her ass cheeks even further apart and pushed through the thick, bulging labia.

Jack swallowed and heard his blood rushing in his ears, for between the widow Fowler's bulging labia he could see quite clearly her slit, the two bulges left and right, the rosy naked flesh of the vagina between them, framed by black ripples. She bent even lower and the bulges opened wider and wider, the labia opening wide to reveal her vagina. The little hole was now clearly visible and suddenly he could see into the deep, dark tunnel. He didn't even know why he shivered.

He watched her breathlessly; of course he had sometimes watched his mother secretly, and now the same unchaste and sinful thoughts chased through his mind; but Mrs. Fowler was slimmer, prettier, and much younger than his mother. She straightened up, sat upright in bed, and covered herself scantily, but up to her thighs, offering her splendid nakedness for him to see. "Come!" she said, "it's bedtime!" He stood up and obediently took off his jacket, then stood indecisive. His gaze kept sliding from her face down to her bare breasts and the suggestively visible pubic hair, but she didn't seem to notice it at all.

"Come on, get undressed already!" she said, smiling encouragingly at him. He hesitated for a few more moments, being hyper‐aware of his arousal and not knowing how she would react, but then that strange feeling of indifference came over him again. He quickly removed his pants, and as he stood up naked, she looked down at his erection with a smile.

He felt a little self‐conscious, for in the past he had had a slender, unobtrusive penis to match his slender boyish body. Over the past year, however, not only had his voice grown deeper and brittle, not only had dark hairs begun to sprout around his cock and under his armpits. His cock had grown bigger, chunkier, and somehow uglier, and when it was stiff, as it was now, the veins at the sides swelled up clearly visible, and the glans thrust forward aggressively and bright red, the pulsing of the erection clearly evident.

It made him very embarrassed that probably Mrs. Fowler knew as well as anyone, and as well as he himself, that his penis had become so ugly only because of his excessive masturbation. He glanced uncertainly at her, trying to withstand her curious gaze, for the Widow Fowler made no secret of the fact that she was studying his cock thoroughly and smiling. He was sure, now that she had seen this ugly one, she probably wouldn't take him to bed with her after all. She had known before that he had a big cock, regarded it with interest and an anticipation that he could only explain if he had been able to read her mind. "Ah, nice" she stated, pulling back the covers a little, "come on, come to bed!" He inwardly gave himself a jolt after a few seconds and walked with uncertain steps towards the bed. He looked shyly at her once more, seeing her encouraging smile as she pulled back the shared blanket invitingly, exposing her naked body again. He quickly climbed into bed, heart pounding, feeling his desire as their naked bodies pressed close together. Unlike her, he immediately buried himself under the covers, pulling them up to his chin and excitedly feeling her nakedness. She reached for the switch on the wall and turned off the light. The bright, rotating light at the top of the lighthouse illuminated the living room so that it was bathed in a diffuse twilight.

He didn't have to wait long. A gentle, soft and warm arm slipped under his neck. A hand ran lightly over his cheek. She whispered softly, but he didn't understand the words, it was perhaps also a foreign language, in any case the strange, hypnotic singsong soothed him immensely. He felt that she was connected to him, that this singsong opened him to her and awakened in him the need to confide his secrets to her. The hand caressed his face, his hair and his chest. Then it moved with inexpressible slowness over his belly, touching his proudly sprouting pubic hair. He held his breath as the hand lightly touched and palmed his erect cock like a breath of air.

"Uuuch, we really need it!" she giggled softly. He wanted to tell her not to caress him in that way, but she continued to sing‐song and it was such a nice feeling that he kept his mouth shut. The thought that this was obviously not a secret between his mother and him and that he must have imagined it flitted through his consciousness as she quite clearly touched his penis. She stroked his hair and murmured soft, foreign‐sounding words in his ear. He held his breath as she masturbated him quickly and with a knowing hand. Her hand routinely swirled up and down, pulling the foreskin back hard again and again, and sometimes her thumb ran over the glans with excitement. She formed it into a tight ring with her fingers and rubbed it in a frantic staccato until he squirted and his semen spurted and spilled over her hand. She continued to slowly rub him with her exciting wet hand until the cock gradually softened. He closed his eyes, for a warm feeling of happiness flowed through him. She embraced him with both arms and pulled him to her, letting him rest against her chest. He understood nothing of what she whispered in his ear in that strange language, but he felt warm and safe with her, her scent beguiled him, and he could tell her everything, even his last secrets. He was suddenly no longer afraid to put his hand on her breast and stroke it gratefully.

A while passed, he gently caressed her breast and almost fell asleep at her soft singsong. She spoke directly to him, asking him about his secrets. He was silent and listened within. But there was no fear, there was familiarity and she wanted for sure to know. He felt that she liked him and in a low, whispering voice he told, haltingly at first, what she wanted to know.

Yes, he masturbated frequently, certainly three or four times a day, and sometimes he had masturbated together with other boys, they had watched each other do it and laughed sheepishly afterwards when they repacked their dicks. But that didn't happen very often. And once, shortly after they moved to this area, he had such a situation with Nina, the neighbor girl who was a little older than him. They had agreed that he would show her how the squirting went if she showed herself naked to him. She had unceremoniously removed her underpants from under her skirt and sat down with her knees bent facing him so he could look. Now he unwrapped his hard‐on and Nina said, "Wow, it's big!"

He stared at the small, naked slit that she seemed to be showing off without shyness. He had never seen it so long and thoroughly before, and from this he became quite horny and masturbated quickly. Nina remained sitting patiently with her thighs spread wide and watched tensely until the first jet landed on the floor, the rest he let splash into his hand.

Jack was silent, for he had thus told just about all that could be told.

"So, what happened next?" the young widow asked, stroking his hair. He thought about it for a moment, then told her that Nina wanted to see the splash again a few days later. He agreed, but only on the condition that he could first look at hers up close, to which she agreed. She lay down on her back, bent her legs and spread them wide.

He bent over her and was quite disappointed, for not quite much could be seen, and what could be done with it they both knew very vaguely. He, of course, tried to gently insert his cock into her slit, and at first she had nodded curiously and enthusiastically, with a thick lump in her throat. Immediately after, she was very frightened and gave a pressed gasp that it hurt a lot. But he immediately squirted in her small vaginal entrance, although he had penetrated with the glans only up to her hymen. But since it didn't hurt anymore, Nina let him continue squirting in her vaginal entrance until he was done.

But the situation had aroused him. He sat down next to the girl and masturbated after a while. She asked if she could try it too. He hesitated and said that she could do it, but only as he demonstrated and then when it squirted, she must not stop, no way. Nina was very docile and then he let her do it. Two–three times he corrected her until she did it right – and how well she did it! When he squirted, she stopped, startled, but he gaspingly ordered her to keep going, so she grabbed the nasty squirting thing again and rubbed it fearfully until nothing came.

From now on he didn't have to masturbate as often, because they kept meeting in the tool shed behind Nina's house. He had to promise Nina on high that he would not hurt her or pierce her hymen. She willingly and very carefully let him penetrate up to her hymen and there he was allowed to fuck very carefully, which she enjoyed very much. He squirted as often as he could and pumped his seed into her.

She explained to him that her hymen had a big hole and she felt very clearly when his semen squirted through the hole all hot and deep into her vagina. He was allowed to check if she really had a hole in her hymen and she assured him that it had always been there. He learned, with Nina's help, to press his glans directly on the hole before squirting and to squirt through the hole deep into her vagina. Nina said that was a great, horny feeling. After some time, during which he kept checking her intact hymen, he noticed that the hole had become bigger. He didn't tell her anything, because she had to notice herself that his glans already fit almost completely through the hole. But she enjoyed it very much when his hot semen splashed into her vagina.

What bothered him, however, was that he couldn't find her clit during his inspections. He asked her, but she just shrugged, I don't have breasts either, no pubic hair and not my period either. He appeased as best he could, but it annoyed him that she denied doing it to herself, she wouldn't know how. She let him search for the clit and held her breath pressed because he kept starting to masturbate in a place where he missed her clit. She was very tense and let him do it, but when her thighs started to tremble, she stopped him. And again no, she never had masturbated!

It ended when she fell in love with another boy and stopped letting him squirt into her vagina as often. About a week later, she came to their meeting place quite devastated and told him that she had fucked the boy for real and he was massively upset that she was not a virgin despite her assurances because it had not bled. He examined her vagina conscientiously and saw her hymen with the big hole, just as he had seen it last. He thought about how the other fellow had managed not to deflower her.

But then he noticed a spot where there was a tiny hump, because Nina was getting pretty horny during the inspection. He began to masturbate this little hump, and sure enough, it grew a bit and became hard. He stopped and looked. It was really a clit, a tiny one. As before, her legs began to tremble. This time he would not be stopped until she was writhing and convulsing violently in orgasm. When she calmed down, he saw the guilt in her eyes for lying to him all this time. No, she assured him again, she had never, never masturbated. He said nothing, she said nothing. From now on, however, he masturbated her as often as he wanted, even when she didn't want him to. In the breaks, when they had waited until now for his cock to get hard again, he masturbated her to violent orgasms, often a second time. Silently, without a sound.

Now, however, he masturbated her, even though she was still indulging her great love and crying about the lover. He concentrated on her clit, which soon made her stop crying. When she orgasmed, he didn't let her lie on her side as usual, but spread her legs and watched the pumping and rolling of her vagina curiously, seeing how the little clit pumped. She hugged him warmly afterwards and willingly let him fuck her.

He penetrated very carefully, felt the resistance of the hymen and pushed quickly and energetically, felt how it tore and fucked liberated and wonderful further and splashed long and extensively. Nina either had not noticed the tearing of her hymen or just said nothing. He enjoyed very much not having to think and pay attention to the stupid hymen anymore. After another masturbation orgasm, they fucked again.

They did it for another week, then another week, every day he was allowed to fuck her twice, once even three times and squirt in juicy jets in her vagina. She seemed to really like being masturbated by him all the time by now, lying down with her thighs open and playing with herself a bit, mewing in a childish voice for him to finally start masturbating her, but she steadfastly refused to do it to herself, not in front of him. No, again no, she never had masturbated!

After that he had enough of her heartbreak, incessantly the same sad details and complaints that the other boy had only a very, very small cock and squirted after only 5 seconds, she described the cock in great detail, every one of his fucking movements and every detail of his short, disappointing squirt. But he wasn't interested anymore and after some lying excuses they met only when he couldn't stand it at all or she wanted to be masturbated very badly. And she often wanted it, because of course they fucked afterwards until he was completely exhausted.

In the last few weeks Nina changed visibly, her breasts began to grow, her hips became rounder, and during his inspections he noticed that her pubic area and also the clit were slowly enlarging. More and more often he saw that the small clit and the skin around it looked very reddened and very worn. He told her that she should masturbate herself while fucking to experience the orgasm more beautifully. At first she resisted, but he urged her until she consented, but he was not allowed to look. He hummed, and she rubbed herself for a long time as they fucked. He didn't even need to look to know how she was doing it. He could feel her first masturbating her clit with one finger, and then just before she orgasmed, fanning her clit with her spread fingers at a frantic pace until she came. He was pretty damn sure that Nina didn't do it for the first time. She had done it since ever but had bloody fucking lied about it. — Uh, she said, that was nice! From then on, she had no trouble doing it herself while fucking, and when he finished faster than she did, she let him watch.

She surprised him by fucking him and telling him that she had had a new guy for some time. He didn't let her interrupt him and kept fucking and she babbled on. The new guy had a nice and long cock just like him, but he had a very long foreskin. Even when she gave him a handjob the foreskin covered the whole glans and she was not allowed to pull it all the way back until he squirted. In fucking the boy was not special, he always squirted way too early and that's why she liked to come to Jack so much, because she could masturbate and orgasm with him. But the new guy loved the blowjob more than the fucking and allowed her to pull his foreskin all the way back and tease the naked glans in her mouth with her tongue. Yes, of course she swallowed the semen, there was nothing to it. Jack didn't care at all about the new guy, but she had to tell the glans sucking again and in great detail.

Jack wasn't quite sure how much of it he was really telling to the young Widow and how much of it was just coming back to him from his memory.

Already while he was telling, the young Widow had caressed his cock, now it stood stiff and firm. She made no effort to masturbate him again and already he thought it was over. But again she surprised him. She hugged and kissed him and stroked his cock continuously. With her other hand, she slowly but insistently maneuvered him onto her belly until he was completely on top of her. She put one leg even further to the side and suddenly he felt her wiry pubic hair poking his cock.

He was in a mood of alarm, this could not be a coincidence. He knew what was coming, and yet he didn't know it, because he knew how to go about it, but didn't dare. Was she really going to do it? He didn't move, and his breathing was clenched. How could she know that he could already do it? Had she seen it in his eyes?

She laughed cooing, thinking it was just as well. His heart was pounding and his fear was great, but she murmured again in that strange language, and he gradually became cheerful and expectant again. She reached down between their bodies and grasped his cock, gently inserting it into her vagina. She whispered she would make him stiffer first, and slowly rubbed his half‐inserted cock with her hand, whispering soft foreign words in his ear again.

A long time passed before she was satisfied, then she pressed on his buttocks and his cock slowly penetrated quite deeply. She held him by the hips, he was surprised by the warm softness and tight tenderness of her vagina, and the explosion that now followed surprised them both. His cock jerked up and squirted for all it was worth, and she quickly pushed him back. The wonderful feeling of happiness subsided instantly, although he could feel the soft, warm skin of the labia on which his seed was spurting quite clearly with the glans.

"That was nice, my little lover," she whispered tenderly when he had stopped spurting, and let him slide slowly beside her. For a long time he lay there saying nothing, letting himself drift in a sea of mist – for that he had splashed far too soon he knew himself, but he could not help it now. A while might have passed, then she caressed his body again, slowly feeling her way from his chest over his belly and thighs to his cock. Energetically she kneaded him and stroked firmly up and down until the journeyman stiffened halfway again.

Once again she asked him pointedly about one of his secrets, and he felt so secure and comfortable with her that in this mood, especially since she was rubbing his cock so gently and comfortingly, he would have told her anything. He told of his lonely hours of masturbation, told of how his mother had caught him doing it regularly and had admonished him at first not to do it anymore because it was a bad sin. He believed, however, that she was mostly fascinated by his big cock, for once, when he once again exposed himself to her in an exhibitorial fit and playfully held his cock in his hand, she whispered appreciatively that it was one of the biggest cocks she had ever seen.

Yes, and a few times she was already standing in the room because he had not heard her come in. She let him do it first and waited a long time until he started again, she said the sin thing again, but he couldn't stop there. She told him to stop, but he gasped in sin despair that he could not. She shook her head disapprovingly at first, but then she watched him calmly until he finished. She had just stood there smiling, watching in fascination as he handled his big cock while masturbating, even though it was a sin, but she was long past talking about that now.

In the bathtub, he told quietly, he liked to do it because she always washed his back and because he liked to expose himself so much in front of her and also because he wanted to impress her with the squirting and his big cock, he masturbated while bathing every time. The mother would then stop washing his back and watch him, impressed, until he was completely finished. This secret – or at least he thought it was a secret between him and her – connected them, besides, in a small apartment where they lived as a couple, hardly anything could be kept secret. Gradually it became natural for him to masturbate in her presence whenever he needed to.

Later, when their sexual encounters had evolved, he naturally wanted more of her in the bathtub and instructed her to waltz his glans proficiently after squirting so that the last drop came out. Obediently she worked the glans with two fingers, soon it was stiff again and she had to continue until the cock was also completely stiff. Then, he said, she had to quickly pull the foreskin back and forth with her fingers over the glans, faster and faster, until the glans squirted. She did it, because he enjoyed that more than a hand job, and she had no intention of giving it to him either. She was okay with it, despite her bigoted remorse, because he liked it so much and more and more it didn't seem like a particularly bad sin. With her mouth she didn't want to do it, although he often asked her about it. After her negligee got completely soaked the first time, she awaited him naked on the stool from then on, giggling inwardly as she enjoyed him looking at her nakedness covetously and surely full of unchaste thoughts, but that also encouraged his erection. More than once she felt the sinful temptation to join him in the tub, but she always shied away from it because she was far too afraid of the very bad mortal sin.

Jack soon stopped masturbating, but let her do it to him in the bathtub one or more times every night. She thought it was fine, and when she had made his cock and glans stiff, she would form a tight ring around the foreskin with her thumb and forefinger and make very small, quick movements with the foreskin on the glans until he squirted, and keep doing that until it stopped. She also had fun doing it herself when she sat naked on the stool waiting for him and he got into the tub with a high grade erection. She told him to stop and did it to him standing up, the first time it went yes very fast and he splashed his concentrated load into the water. Later, after she had washed him and his back, when he sat in the water and looked at her and she opened her legs slightly to his looks, then she herself felt a warm tingling in her loins similar to the one she felt before masturbating. Looking almost always gave him an erection, then she would reach into the water and make it splash loudly. All of this her Jack loved very much!

Jack was silent, still not sure how much of what had come back to his mind he had actually told the teenage playmate out loud.

The teenage widow stroked his cock and whispered that it was indeed beautiful and very large and now already surpassed that of many grown men. She was silent for a while before continuing to lie that she had not had such a beautiful and powerful cock in a long time. They were silent for a long time, then she asked him to continue.

He told that he used to watch his mother in the bathroom secretly through a crack in the door paneling. She used to stay in the bathroom for a long time and walk around there naked, which of course excited him a lot. She was a beautiful woman, in her mid thirties with beautiful reddish‐blonde hair and a bit chubby. Her breasts were no longer round and full, large and heavy they hung over her belly. The nipples were dark brown and pointed when she was aroused. She seemed to play with her nipples quite unconsciously, again and again when her arousal increased. He always got horny when she stroked her breasts and rhythmically squeezed the teats with two fingers. She always had her pubic hair finely trimmed, which emphasized her thick labia and pubic fold and her amazingly slender hips. Her butt was quite round, and she often complained on the phone to her girlfriends that she was too fat, but that wasn't true.

Before bathing, she sometimes sat down on the little stool in front of the mirror next to the door, where it spied. She put her legs up and spread to cutting her pubic hair short with a little scissors and clean her pubic with a washcloth. Spreading her labia with her fingers, she very devoutly washed her vagina and labia and finally her clit. She put the washcloth aside and slowly stroked her clit with her fingers. He was amazed every time, because the clit became quite dark red and lifted a little. She mostly closed her eyes and stroked the clit mostly from bottom to top, so that the little guy was brought to rise and stiffen.

Mostly she stopped when her legs twitched and trembled, but sometimes she had done it too fast and then hadn't been able to stop, so she had to press her fingers on the clit and her head and neck nodded back and forth, like pigeons when they walked on the floor on their little legs. She often sat in front of the mirror for a long time, making her legs tremble and very rarely her head dove–nod, he always watched curiously and hornily.

She stroked her clit delicately, gently and for a very long time before standing up abruptly and getting into the bathtub. When she lay in the tub humming to herself, or when she played with herself with her eyes closed afterwards, he would do it until he couldn't anymore.

What she was doing exactly, he couldn't see in the sea of foam, of course, but he was sure that she was sinning just as he was. After all, he could see her face, shoulders, and upper arm moving rhythmically, and he could imagine that in the extension of her arm, her hand was somehow working her pubic or clit.

She did it much less often than he did, but when she did sin, it was long and several times in a row. He could see on her face the ebb and flow of sin, the tightening and the gentle relief when it came. She would then stay in the bath for a very long time and do it to herself a few times until she fell asleep in the tub, redeemed.

He faltered in his narrative because he felt he was somehow betraying his mother, but his playmate, who had become young as if by magic, murmured in his ear that he should continue quietly and gently touched his cock. He felt a strong arousal rising, again she stroked gently and vigorously up and down his cock. She murmured that he should go on about the mother. It was something bad, he said gloomily, but she stroked him soothingly and murmured that he could tell her anything, really anything. He was silent for a long time before he went on, and at some point he was silent again, because he was hung up on the memory that was clearly playing out before his closed eyes.

His mother did not often sleep naked, usually wearing a short nightgown. Lately, however, she had been walking around naked before she went to bed, and he looked at her covetously. True, she had violent palpitations, for her bigoted bourgeoisie tormented her mercilessly. It was very unchaste behavior to masturbate in front of the mirror or in the bathtub while her son watched her. But it excited her immensely to be naked in his presence, to show herself naked to him and to tease him sexually. She did it so casually, as if it were only accidental, but she showed herself to him more and more openly, shamelessly, obscenely. Yes, she even went so far as to sit on the edge of the bed with her thighs wide apart, creaming and caressing her body, breasts and loins with slow, lascivious movements, while he masturbated and squirted standing under the open door.

This vague addiction to exhibiting herself naked before him came from her unchaste dreams. Several times in a row she dreamed she was being wonderfully fucked, but when she saw the lover's face, it was always Jack. No, it couldn't be! the black‐tailed, horned duckling throbbed in her thoughts, you mustn't even think about that! But she kept having this recurring dream, being mounted and inseminated by Jack. Sometimes it seemed to her upon awakening that her clit felt as if she had been masturbating all night. Sometimes her vagina felt like it had been really fucked all the way through. The dreams wouldn't let her go, she would watch languidly as Jack masturbated and fantasized about what she would love to do. Her other angel, the white‐clad one with the permanent erection, whispered conspiratorially, come on, do it, grab him, feel free to touch him, let him fuck, I'm sure he won't mind! But she continued to suffer, torn, offering her nakedness to her son more and more covetously, and afterwards being very ashamed and depressed. Discord and Bigotry can hurt so much!

But the dreams remained, her horniness rekindled when she saw him masturbate and felt almost physically his penetration of her chaste, martyred vagina. From her phone calls and secretly whispered confessions among girlfriends, she knew that several of them "blew" her husband, and, as one then explained blowing to her, that the woman took the cock in her mouth and let him squirt inside her mouth. And no, the sperm was swallowed, spitting it out he would consider a rejection. The girlfriend, Jeannette, was very simple in spirit and very direct. If Jack's mother wanted to see it for herself, she could come over.

For days she pondered Jeannette's proposal and fought against her bigotry, but watching wasn't even a sin after all! Finally, she called Jeannette and said she wanted to see it. The other day she went, they gossiped and gossiped in the kitchen for a while, then she brought up the blow job. No problem, Jeannette said, let's go see Frido! Frido was her mentally retarded cousin, whom she often took in for weeks or months when his family traveled. Frido was sitting in a wheelchair in front of the TV in the next room and looked up when the two women walked in. Frido is 50, Jeannette said, the same age as me. Unfortunately, he couldn't speak, but they had known each other since childhood and she understood him quite well.

Frido, she called, come, let's play! and Frido's eyes lit up. Jeannette stepped up to his chair and laboriously pulled down his pants. Jack's mother was to sit on a chair opposite Frido, and Jeannette took Frido's cock in her hand. So, the blowjob goes like this, she said, and she took his whole glans in her mouth, then she masturbated him with her hand, and when he squirted, she opened her mouth wide so Jack's mother could see very clearly how Frido squirted in her mouth. She swallowed the cum and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She told Jeannette she got a good look at everything and now knew how to do it. Jeannette nodded, she held Frido's cock and then said he may still fuck! Turning to Jack's mother, she said she had to go to the bathroom, meanwhile she should get Frido's cock stiff.

Very hesitantly she bent over and touched Frido's cock, Jeannette farted loudly and walked out. She held Frido's cock very still, but he was wriggling and obviously wanted her to do him. She stroked his thick cock to keep it stiff, but she was definitely not giving him a hand job. Outside, the phone rang and Jeannette picked it up, chatting and chatting endlessly. She stroked his cock as soon as it softened a bit, and stopped when it stood magnificently again. When Jeannette came back in, Frido made some sounds and Jeannette translated, he wants to fuck you! She encouraged her, come on, you'll enjoy it, come on, you can do it! But she shook her head vigorously, no, she didn't want to. Jeannette tried to persuade her, but she really didn't want to and let go of his cock. Alright, Jeannette said, you can wait in the kitchen or stay here, and with one grip she loosened her skirt, letting it fall to the floor.

She had nothing on underneath and swung herself up and over Frido. She reached through underneath and guided Frido's cock into her vagina. Jack's mother watched in fascination as Jeannette's big ass fucked with long, slow movements, the thick cock widening her vagina with each up and down. It took more than fifteen minutes before Frido made a sound and she saw that he was pumping cum. Jeannette remained sitting on the cock, masturbating as she could see from behind. As she orgasmed, her vagina contracted tightly several times and Frido's cock popped out.

Jeannette climbed down, wiped Frido's cock clean with a cloth and pulled up his pants, then she put on her skirt and they walked out quietly. Jack's mother looked at the kitchen clock and said, oh my God, so late already! and she had to go anyway and quickly said goodbye. She then went down the dirt road between the bushes instead of the car road and couldn't take it anymore. She crouched down between the bushes and peed, then looked around very carefully to make sure no one could see her and masturbated while squatting, quickly and greedily, in her mind's eye the image of Frido's cock and Jeannette's vagina slowly milking him.

She once again posed naked in front of Jack and he began to masturbate as usual, she timidly sat down next to him and tentatively touched his glans with a finger. She asked him if that was okay with him and Jack answered in the affirmative, that was very fine! He continued smiling and she kept her finger on the glans, feeling him suddenly stiffen. He masturbated his cock with long strokes and she turned her fingers all around his glans very quickly. He squirted into her hand and she washed it off, but she didn't dare taste the cum. Jack said that it was very nice and that he would so love to squirt between her breasts. Though still troubled by her spirits, she nodded silently and knelt facing him, reaching with one arm under her breasts, which she held out to him ready to receive. He brought his cock back to a stop and fucked between her breasts, which she squeezed tightly to make the fucking go well. He squirted from the valley between her breasts onto her neck, her mouth and onto her breasts.

She washed herself in the bathroom and carefully licked the cum that had hit her mouth – it didn't taste bad. After this exciting bosom fuck she asked him if she could do it and of course he agreed. It was the first handjob for her, but she had watched so many times that she knew exactly what to do. Jack, propped up on the bed with both hands, enjoyed it very much and looked fascinated at his naked mother kneeling in front of him, who had first quite skillfully brought his flaccidity to a halt and then masturbated him the right way. Before squirting, she gave in to her own horniness and pressed his glans directly onto her half‐open mouth so that the little hole in the glans was in her mouth. But when it squirted, she cowardly pulled her head back and it squirted all over her breasts. Her tighty whities almost rolled over at the thought of where this was going, bringing shame, dejection and regret.

Jack was torn, because a few days later she gave him another handjob and just before he squirted she licked his glans, played around it with her lips and took the glans in her mouth, the whole glans, continued the handjob and tentatively licked the glans with her tongue. Just when she thought she should take it out again, he spurted in her mouth, the semen spurting warmly down her throat, on her palate, all over her mouth. She was startled at first, but then she swallowed his seed eagerly, fantasizing about how nice it would be if he fucked her, and she soon wanted nothing more than to fuck him, that thought eating into her fantasies like a red‐hot knife, making her more excited every day about when they would do it. It was no longer if, but when that ate through her thoughts. She still recoiled from it, even though she had imagined it a hundred times. She didn't let him cum in her mouth anymore, though, but she did tell him about the visit with Jeannette, giggling. He said that it would be a great pity if she didn't want to do it to him with her mouth, but that didn't matter, since she worked his glans so wonderfully during his daily bath.

Jack did not know if he had spoken this secret aloud, told it aloud, for his pretty young playmate was lying with her head on his chest, playfully fingering his cock.

In truth, Jack had quite a terrible secret that he now had to confess. When his mother was plagued by the headache of a migraine attack, she escaped by taking 3 sleeping pills with a water glass of liquor, usually in the late afternoon. This was far more than she was prescribed, but she was able to fall asleep half an hour later and sleep soundly until noon the next day. He noticed that after she fell asleep, she slept very deeply and like a dead woman. All he had to do was pull the covers off and she was lying naked and beautiful in front of him, in her sleeping position on her stomach, one leg bent and her butt sticking out.

In the beginning he looked at her nudity and went again to masturbate. Later he wanted more, palpated her pink vagina and teased her clit. Full of excitement he saw the clit swell red and stiffen, he continued rubbing very gently until her legs began to tremble. He paused, she noticed nothing and he continued. Again and again he made her tremble until she orgasmed and he watched the pumping of her abdomen, the trembling vagina and the soft throbbing in her clit. She slept soundly like a dead woman and noticed nothing. Sometimes he spent two‐three hours masturbating her defenseless body over and over to orgasm.

But he soon wanted more. When she made pleasurable sounds after an orgasm, he knelt up and pushed his glans into her vaginal entrance, then carefully continued until his whole cock was inside her. He let his cock feel everything closely, it felt very different, much softer than Nina's vagina. Almost instantly he spurted with his glans throbbing, letting it all spurt into her, and was quite dazed when he pulled his flaccid out. After a few minutes, he noticed that his semen was flowing out of her vagina. He got a towel and wiped it away as best he could. That he didn't have to move and the squirting came on its own, that was wonderful. Sometimes he would move and those careful fucking movements would trigger his squirting.

Most of the time he had another erection within fifteen minutes, then he tested if she was asleep deeply enough, that was always the case. He sometimes turned her supine and brought her legs into position. He gently penetrated her vagina and fucked her slowly and with pleasure, sometimes even again and, the more he fucked her, the wilder he fucked her. Then he wiped away the leaking semen with the towel and turned her back to prone position, one leg bent. He was terribly ashamed, but the next morning he was the dear, good boy. And it had all been going on for months; he had probably squirted into the innocent sleeper's vagina more than a hundred times. That was Jack's biggest secret.

Showing herself‐excited the mother more and more each time, more and more openly and deliberately posing naked before him, feasting on his greedy horniness. Whenever she was naked, she excited him very much, so much so that he had once crawled into bed with her when she had dropped the book and the glasses while falling asleep and had also left the light burning. She had let the blanket slide to the floor, as she often did, and the sight of her naked body excited him madly. She was lying on her stomach, one leg bent, and under the butt crease the mystery darkly loomed. For a while he masturbated sitting upright in bed while looking at her buttocks excitedly, he touched her buttocks and her pubic hair curling under them, he didn't dare to do more. Or else, he corrected himself with shame, he had sat up, knelt down and carefully palpated the damp bulges between her pubic hairs with his fingertips, had touched her damp secret with his glans and, heart pounding, had carefully inserted his cock up to the glans, then very carefully halfway, then as deep as it could go, into her soft, sleeping vagina and didn't move. He felt the excitement creeping up in his loins, he would soon squirt and he wanted nothing more now than to squirt his pent up hot seed deep into her vagina.

He noticed that she stirred and pulled out his cock very quickly and carefully. She woke up slowly and drowsily, as if sensing him, and turned around – looking hypnotized at his wet cock. He hadn't masturbated in a long time and needed it now, badly. He knelt, cock in hand, waiting for something, anything. Actually, he wished she would take his glans in her mouth and let him squirt there, at the same time he balked at the thought that she might then smell or taste the odor of her own vagina. He wiped the thought away, because she was lolling and moving towards him, and he got scared of where it would lead.

With half‐closed eyes, lust and horniness slowly creeping up behind them, she watched him, looking hornily and longingly at the erect cock. Her vagina felt somehow different and the little devil screamed wanting more! No, we are not allowed to fuck!, the bigot raged. The tugging in her loins increased to unbearable, she felt increasingly great desire to expose herself further to him, to excite him further with her nakedness and lust. At the same time she was agonized by her petty, bigoted soul. She trembled, for these impulses were extreme and contradictory, she sighed godly and hated herself for her lust, which now overpowered her and finally made her sink back completely on the bed.

She surrendered her cleft, which shone swollen, dark red and wet deep in the sparse–black frizz of her pubic hair, to his gaze, but her feverish gaze was still on his cock, which he masturbated very slowly, stretching its entire length towards her tantalizingly. In this position, her pussy bulged forward, now lying before him like an open, wet fruit. The tip of the glans, dancing lightly as he masturbated, touched her labia again and again, throbbing. She lifted her head so that she could watch his masturbation, the touches of his glans on her labia, while she worked her breast tips harder and harder and moaned voluptuously.

Some uninvolved, bored instance in her soul waved wearily away as the thought of mortal sin flashed briefly and immediately vanished. For a split second, a flicker of thought chased through her mind how much she must have suffered from years of renunciation, for his father had left her after a few weeks. But he wiped the thought away, stretched his cock even further, pressed it firmly against her pubic fold and rubbed gently. The greed and thunderous lust in her gaze almost frightened him, pure lust, covetous greed and unspeakable horniness spoke from her gaze.

No! it screamed inside her, No! But she was shaken feverishly by her lust, with a hypnotized look she looked at her boy kneeling in front of her, slowly masturbating with a rigid expression looking at her exposed vagina. She looked down at herself, his glans kept touching her labia, but no!, that was not allowed! With one hand she reached down, with two fingers she held his red swollen glans, so that he touched it only very lightly. With the fingers of the other hand she spread her labia, opened her vagina wide. No, don't! The glans was only millimeters from her vagina, millimeters at a time she moved the glans forward to the vagina with her fingers until she touched it, until its tip had penetrated, until it was halfway in. No, don't! She closed her eyes and fantasized that it was her dead husband whose cock was bursting hornily at her gate. He was the only one, no one before him and no one after him.

She felt his thrusting, felt that he wanted to penetrate her fully, but she was not ready for that. Not yet. Her ambivalence almost drove her out of her mind, on the one hand trying to keep him from penetrating and on the other feeling him thrusting millimeter by millimeter deeper into her vagina. Oh, that was beautiful! But she pushed him back with her hand, leaving only the glans in the entrance of the vagina. And how nice it was to feel this firm, big glans in her vagina, to feel a pleasant shiver of happiness and fear with each of his thrusts.

Jack was out of his mind when his glans exploded at one point. She, however, was watching closely, a long drawn out wail escaping her throat as his seed spurted in in a thick, hot stream. She quivered and twitched with each thrust of his glans monster, pressing her fingers as deep as she could into her vagina and directing what must have been about ten spurts of semen directly into her vagina until it subsided. Tears rolled down her cheeks and crying she realized what had happened to her, what she had done. She pulled out the glans and bent his cock to the side, groaning.

She lay gasping and crying, he squirted the very last of it triumphantly over her body. She had put his glans into her vagina herself and let him squirt in, a massive amount of semen that had accumulated over the whole day! Humiliated and ashamed, she covered her eyes with one arm and felt nothing but terrible shame. She wept softly, but heartbreakingly, for what they had done here was a quite terrible mortal sin. When it was over, he crept back to his bed, depressed by her weeping.

But it only happened this once, Jack added, and he had been incredibly embarrassed. Yesterday, yes yesterday, that was before he left, which is why he left, to kick the shame out of himself. But he did not tell that. The beautiful widow had listened to him and caressed him, but now she had to smile, he saw that. His assurance that it had never happened again after that seemed hollow to her. And that was what it was.

The beautiful girl resting on his chest quietly resumed her hypnotic singsong, and he felt a fierce urge to tell her in great detail the shameful event of yesterday. He felt that it was this singsong that made him confess everything. After his mother had let his glans squirt all the way deep inside her he had gone into his room, she remained lying with her legs spread out. When she had pressed his glans deep into her vagina she had had a vision, her vagina had recognized his cock and glans, with one stroke she realized that he must have fucked her many times when she lay in death‐like sleep on migraine days. He had fucked her, taking advantage of her defenselessness, but she didn't find it mean, just an insanely horny thought. Her arousal, which she still felt from earlier, turned into hot, horny lust, she relived the dreams in which Jack fucked her. Aaah, that was horny! Infinitely horny!

Although she knew that he could see everything through the open door, she began to stroke her clit, dreaming of the thousand dreamed fucks while masturbating, and soon she pushed the thumb of her other hand into her vagina to fuck herself with it, because that was a nice way for her to masturbate. Out of the corner of her eye she had noticed that he had come back into the room, lay down next to her and watched her blatantly. He watched very closely what she was doing with her thumb and inserted his index finger along the humping thumb, sensing and feeling how she was doing it. She couldn't stop, masturbating with both hands until her orgasm took hold and shook her womb. He felt her convulsions and the pumping of her vagina and that her thumb was masturbating a special area. He probed into that area and pushed her thumb aside, he masturbated her in that spot and she squeezed the air out in agony, her head jerked forward and she stared at him with her eyes widened in surprise as she needed to orgasm immediately. Jack gave her a little break and masturbated her again in the same spot and she orgasmed again with her face contorted with pleasure. Then he gently pulled his thumb out of her throbbing vagina. He looked deep into her eyes and his cock touched her labia, his glans penetrating a bit.

She was still shaken from the rolling and pumping of masturbation and orgasm, but she breathed, Yes, Yes, Come! and Jack penetrated her pumping vagina. She felt her vagina recognize the cock, she clung to it and her hand on his buttock controlled it, gave him the beat. How beautiful this was! Jack put his hot cheek against hers and fucked her wonderfully, and her dying orgasm became a new, beautiful throb again as he fucked her good and hard. "Yes, Yes!" she cried aloud as she thought he was going to squirt, but he paused and waited for his cock to soften.

Then, after a few minutes, he started again, fucking well and hard so that her vagina began to throb violently until he almost squirted and stopped again, pulling his cock out of her vagina but letting it rest on her pussy. She had never been fucked this way before! The only one she had fucked before was his father, he did it fast and hard until he squirted, once or twice every night. But Jack made her wait and started all over again. Her heart was pounding, her vagina was pumping all of a sudden, and she orgasmed for the first time without clit stimulation! Jack had located the exact point that his glans had to stimulate just a little bit for her to orgasm.

Jack paused again and she had calmed down after orgasming; her tormentors were pounding her: incest, incest, incest! She became deathly sad and no longer participated in the fucking. No, she couldn't stop him anymore, because she had wanted it so much before, and he was now "in the middle of it". Unresponsive, she let his cock enter her vagina and had tears in her eyes while he vigorously fucked exactly her most sensitive orgasm point. She felt it rise hotly inside her and she orgasmed again before he paused again. She cried softly, even though her vagina had cheered, muttering that "our incest was wrong and not right".

It was a strange sensation as he inserted his semi‐firm cock into her vagina, as he very slowly tightened again and she felt her rising orgasm. With powerful thrusts right on her spot he brought her to orgasm again and stopped, in the waning she cried very softly with sadness and shame as he rested for the next course. It went on like this, Jack stopped just before his peak and she orgasmed easier and easier each time as he focused on her sensitive spot. Her eyes briefly grazed the wall clock and she thought, my God, he's been fucking me for over two hours! Her remorse made her even sadder, and the more she let it wash over her willy‐nilly, the deeper the sadness became. She suffered silently, for the incest was incest, but her body, that rotten traitor, orgasmed loudly exultantly, and Jack felt it.

He made her orgasm again and she breathed choppily: "Yes, come, squirt already!" Jack threw back his sweaty hair and said for the x‐th time, "yes, in a minute!" and prepared to stuff his softened cock into her vagina, then he started fucking her very slowly at first until his cock got harder. She begged in a tear‐stained voice, "please, please fuck me and squirt, squirt already!" Jack went at it with all his might and she saw his face tense with effort as he fucked and humped like a machine. "Yes, come on, let it out," she murmured, feeling that he suddenly couldn't stop. She whispered in a tear strangled voice, "Yes, Yes! squirt at last!" and Jack couldn't hold it in any longer and squirted rearing up, she whispered "Yes, Yes!" and was frantic with happiness and sadness as he poured out in bursts, rearing up each time squirting his seed into her vagina thrust after thrust, jet after jet.

She cheered and sobbed softly, for it was so beautiful! He stopped thrusting and remained motionless in her vagina while his cock gradually became soft and limp. She very gently and carefully pulled the limp cock out of her vagina. She squeezed and stroked the glans, thinking it still needed to squeeze out the last drops, and she felt another drop or two dripping onto her pussy. He grumbled that it was fine and she pressed and massaged his glans for quite a long time, he should have it fine. She noticed that his cock was also recovering and getting a little stiff and murmured that it had been so exciting and wonderful, but it was also a bad mortal sin! She didn't stop for many minutes, until the glans felt big, plump and full again. He sank down beside her and only slowly regained his breath.

She looked at the clock again in disbelief, he had been fucking her for almost three hours, and she had surely orgasmed more than a dozen times! Still, she was very sad and depressed about the incest and the mortal sin she had knowingly and deliberately brought about. He was not to blame, because it was she who had seduced him and made him sin. She stroked his cock and glans with a finger until he dozed off. A few minutes later she too fell asleep, completely exhausted.

The next morning, Jack couldn't look her in the eye and decided to take that bike ride. He knew she would ask him hard questions and he would not be able to answer some.

Jack must have dozed off for a moment and flinched a bit when the Widow girl teased his glans with her thumb. Thank God his cock was soon stiff and ready again.

At the memory of yesterday, of his naked, frightened mother, humiliated and shy after the first intoxicating fuck, waiting for him to finally finish squirting, and whom he had made orgasm over and over again despite her restrained crying, his cock stiffened to bursting, and the miraculously youthful widow simply said, "Wait!" Then she turned him over on his back and squatted straddling him, slowly inserting his cock into her warm, pulsing vagina with her hand. "Just lie still!" she murmured, then quickly squat‐fucked him, moaning and sighing at her lusty ride on that stiff cock. She ended up touching her clit for a second until it came, then jerked violently, her abdomen quivering and undulating. He could feel her soft, warm cunt waltzing and working his cock. She moaned loudly and continued to fuck him for a few short, choppy thrusts, then sank wearily on top of him. Gradually she calmed down as he wriggled impatiently back and forth, for he had not yet cum.

The pretty young girl straightened back into a squatting position, propped herself up with both arms, and bobbed up and down. Their bodies touched at only one point, her cock and her cunt, cock‐in‐vagina. After a while, she quickened her pace and, panting, began to rub his cock firmly with her clenched cunt. He felt her gripping his steeply erect cock vigorously with her cunt muscles in this squatting position, and the rise and fall of her rocking acted like a masturbating fist. She became more and more urgent, faster and faster, bobbing on top of him, light as a feather. Now he felt the pre‐cum sensation, felt the hard, demanding stiffening that was amplified by her fucking movements. Sensing his coming, she made long, deep movements in a crouch, then his cock twitched and again he squirted, spurting twitching jets into the beautiful girl's vagina, thrusting up with his pelvis and feeling the jet shoot twitchingly out of him. With a cooing sound, she orgasmed and plopped her cunt back over the cock, letting it squirt deep inside her. She bobbed slowly and deliberately now, getting slower and slower as did his squirting, which soon died down. She got off him and now they lay side by side for a long time, silently embracing until they fell asleep, Jack and the wrinkled‐faced, wrinkled old woman with her emaciated breasts and scrawny, withered body.

It was early morning when he awoke. He was lying in a meadow, completely soaked, the dew droplets on the blades of grass and his bicycle glistening in the bright, cold glow of the morning sun. He ran his hand through his dewy hair and looked around sleepily for the lighthouse.

But there was no lighthouse.

When he got back to school, he researched this strange experience in the library. The lighthouse that had stood about there on the cliff at Kings Head had burned down 50 years ago, in the late fall of 1903, and was never rebuilt. The last lighthouse keeper, a certain Henry Fowler, marr., had died in the fireü. And as for the widow Fowler – and to find that out cost him weeks of research work – not the slightest trace of her was found. Only this abbreviation "marr." next to his name, as if old Henry blessed even had one.

Jack kept this story to himself and wrote it down in his diary. He would have hated to go into unnecessary questioning or speculation.

Or to find an explanation for having done it with a ghost.

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