Stories | Bingo’s Lair

The Story

We were resting after making love in the late spring afternoon. The house was quiet; Bill and Jenny were off somewhere, Mark was on campus in the music building practicing. Jim had a window in his room, one that faced west, to the back yard. He disliked curtains, so we looked out on the lawn, a bit disorderly but not unkempt, and hedge that backed against an alley forty or so feet away. Jim’s bed was under the window; the sill was low so we both looked out at the birds.

“You know I wasn’t always a good girl,” I said. Story time, I thought.

“Good girl, bad girl?” Jim mumbled. He sometimes wanted to nap after sex. Other times he was filled with energy and just had to get up and do things.

“A very bad girl. A bad, bad girl.” I pressed my nose against his ear. “I did wicked things.”

“Ah. You have a history.” His eyes flickered.

“Sordid.”

“Sounds like fun.” He rolled over on his back. “I hope it was. Fun.” He traced a finger along my shank. “You’re determined to tell me it, aren’t you?”

“Some of it.” I sat up. “A day in the life of a very wicked, improper,” I spanked his tummy, “girl. Naughty naughty naughty.”

“OK. I’m all ears.” Jim smiled. “I hope this is a good story.”

“It’s a good bad story.” I lay back down, my head on Jim’s stomach, my left hand nuzzled Beast.

“You’re wicked doing that.”

“Doing what?” I nuzzled a little more. “This epic, a day in the life of fifteen-year-old Chastity. Are you sure you want to hear this? It was summer.”

“Ah summer, go on.”

“It was summer and I finally made my way outside. I was one to sleep late. Or at least pretended I slept late. I was finally outside and Jim was already there, in the alley by the big tree. He saw me and waved, not at me, down the alley and Jimbo, also no relation to you, walked into view. Both had grins on their faces. Jimbo was still a virgin and he hoped Jim would put in the good word for him.”

I sighed. “Well, to make a very long story short, we went over behind Mr. Dumbrowski’s car. I peeled off my clothes, lay on the ground and Jim screwed me. Jimbo wanted to know if he could do me, could he do me, you know going on and on. We were trying to keep him quiet. Old man Dumbrowski is hard of hearing but was not deaf. Not deaf at all.” I gave Beast a squeeze. “This was in the days before I got loud during sex thanks to you and Beast here, fine fellows both.”

“I’ve always thought of you as a connoisseur.”

“I wasn’t then. We finally got Jimbo calmed down, said he could play with my tits. We did that for a while, then Jim said, OK, Jimbo, you are going to screw her now, we’ll do something special. I told them how I always liked doing special things. Jimbo’s fingers felt good. OK Jimbo, Jim said, you lie down here, on your back. That’s right. Get your pecker out. You can’t screw unless your pecker is out. Jimbo isn’t dumb, he’s just a bit younger than us, I think he was thirteen then. OK, that’s great, Jim said. Chastity, do you think you can get him going? So I climbed onto Jimbo and started to kiss him and play with his pecker as Jim called it. Jimbo was nervous, he kept on giggling and saying it tickled. OK Jimbo, hold still, I told him and I slid down and took him in my mouth. He was still giggling but he got hard awfully quick, and I slid back up, and pulled him into me. Want to get me wet, Jim said? He knelt down and his dick was by our faces. Not you. Chastity. Thanks. Then Jim walked behind us and knelt down and entered my ass. Hey, what’s that? Jimbo said. I kissed him and told him not to worry, it was something special Jim was doing for us, it being Jimbo’s first time and all.”

“Lucky guys.”

“I was a wickedly lucky gal. Mr. Dumbrowski was sleeping or watching TV or something. I wonder what would have happened if he’d heard us and come out to his back porch?

“I had a thing I did then. After sex with a guy I would squirrel away an article of clothing nearby. After a busy day it was quite an adventure to backtrack, find my clothes. So I left my panties, bra and my blouse in a bush there. I still had my sweater, skirt, shoes and socks so I was still decent to walk in public. It pays to overdress at times.”

“Amazing.” Jim was looking at me with a smile on his face.

“That was a particularly busy day. I was walking on the sidewalk toward downtown and a car pulled up with four high school kids. Everybody called them the four J’s. Oh boy, I thought. Want a ride, Jimmy called out. Sure I said. Just a second. I took off my shoes and socks and left them by the sidewalk there next to a tree. You’ll bring me back here, won’t you? Sure, hop on in. I knew these boys from before, and we had things pretty well worked out. I’d be in back with a guy, the others would ride in front. When he was done they’d stop and he’d switch places with someone up front. It was OK except at bumpy spots and there was one place everyone called thrill hill. You’d go over this short, high hill, does that make sense? It was high, but very small so you went up then came right back down again. It was quite a sensation even when you weren’t screwing. Boy, I got to know that hill intimately. Jimmy and his buddies were OK. Nothing was very serious, but they still treated me nicely. We’d drive around afterwards, I liked to let the wind coming through the car windows dry my skin; then I’d tell them to stop. I’d get dressed, and we’d go to a Dairy Queen or a soda place to get something cold.” I chuckled. “One time the guys just left me in the back, buck naked. They returned with fists full of ice cream cones and we drove quickly out to our secret spot. They held them or drew them across my skin. It was a cool, shivery thing for me, and then they licked the ice cream off. Everybody just about leaves this town after high school, three of the guys went off to college and Jimmy joined the army; I hope he’s OK.

“I dawdled the afternoon with the boys. Officially I’d lost all my clothes but it didn’t matter with them. They brought me back to where they picked me up, we kissed. I guess maybe I was a bit indecent leaning into the car like that. Mr. James, the guy who had that house there was home from work, puttering in his garden. Mr. James’s sure looking at you funny, Jimmy said. Golly, I said and reached back to pull my skirt down. Better go, thanks guys. Thank you, they all yelled and drove off, the radio was playing something but I couldn’t tell you what it was. Nothing memorable. I turned around and said, Hi Mr. James, and waved. Boy, he sure looked funny. Just then I realized that my sweater wasn’t buttoned right. Oh gosh I called out to him, I’d better explain. And started to go up to him. Shoot. I turned around and bent over and picked up my shoes and socks. Golly, I said. Sorry, Mr. James, let me explain. I don’t blush easily but I was blushing then.

“It wasn’t so easy to explain. I started to tell him and he was looking up at me, he was still on his hands and knees. I thought it would make things better if I rebuttoned my sweater. It didn’t. Poor Mr. James. His wife is one of the mean teachers, you know those mean ones everyone knows about in elementary school. She’d whack kids’ fingers with her ruler as she walked up and down the rows of desks. Poor Mr. James. He was someone who was happy puttering in his garden.”

“Reading a good book.”

“Yes, or futtering a fifteen-year-old girl.” I looked down at Jim. “It’s not even legal at that age.”

“Something made him do it.”

“He was driven to it. He had a garden shed at the back of the yard. It was pretty big, not at all what’d you expect. He was a neat man. It was tidy, the floor was clean with pillows and a rug. I guess I’d better tell you.” I looked at Jim seriously. “It wasn’t the first time.”

“So far, I think Jimbo was the only novice.”

“That, too. Well, Mr. James, Jimmy, too, but it’s starting to get confusing with so many Jims, all of the guys in the car were Jims, too; Jimmy, James, Jim and Jimmy Z. Anyway, Mr. J was part of the clothes game. It was a treasure hunt for him. He’d go off on his own looking for my things where I’d tell him they’d be. What the neighbors thought I can’t guess. You never saw adults in those places. Not unless they were doing something like mowing or pruning. Mrs. James was always off somewhere, Mr. J was terribly anxious to please, and he did read books. I was a pushover.” I looked at Jim again. “You don’t think I’m too fast or easy do you? No don’t tell me. Anyway we had our frolic in the shed. Mr. J scampered off and returned fifteen minutes later with my bra, panties and blouse. I had to buy them back from him, though not too dearly.”

“I can’t believe you did it with that old guy,” Jim said, trying to look serious.

“He did read and we did it only a couple hundred times, he died of a heart attack. No. Not me. Gosh, I’m not that kind of girl. He was out mowing the yard. Just toppled over. He used to get so red in the face when we did it, I hope that wasn’t a sign I missed. Oh well.” I leaned back, rubbing my head against Beast who was getting pretty perky. “You’ll forgive me for doing it with old guys, won’t you?”

Jim laughed. “I guess so.”

“Oh, that’s good then. I was so worried. The rest of my day was pretty ho-hum. Whoever I could find in the park. Sometimes I stood in the alley behind the beer joint hoping to nab one of the guys peeing in the bushes. I wasn’t indiscriminate; I never hung out at the Elks Lodge. I stayed away from sports events and that type of person until I became much older. I only flashed the guys sitting on the porch at the old folks home, nothing more. Mr. Beast seems ready for a frolic. If you do me from behind we can both watch the birds out in the garden. Ah, yes, here, let me get my hand under, OK, oh you want to go there do you? Better dip a little lower first, yes, OK, oh yes, that feels, oh, stay still, what kind of bird was that? Stay still. Oh. Oh I’m so glad I don’t have to work so hard anymore. Now move.

“Oh.”

 

 

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