Taboo Times Ten(52)

“Very well, dear,” the naked red-haired woman finally agreed, all hesitation gone on her part. The blonde youngster was a huge slut, as she'd said, exactly like she herself and her young niece had always been. “Here comes a fuck you'll remember the rest of your life.”

And she slowly pushed the large back dildo into the little girl's slippery cunt.

Mrs. Rimfield, after all, was many things to many people, but being in full control of her own sexual urges was not one of them.





Scout's Honor





Remi Cogsworth



Even though she was a perfectly capable 28-year-old woman, Honor Blakely greatly appreciated the small group of young boys in the neighborhood who so eagerly wanted to help with any chores around her house or yard.

She was a sleek and extremely pretty brunette, trim in all the right places, fully rounded in others, and she'd first thought her good looks might've had something to do with it. With their offer of assistance. Throughout her life, men or boys had always offered to help her, in many ways, and she was more than used to it.

“The garage could use a good cleaning,” she suggested that bright Saturday morning, leading the five well-groomed youngsters in through the side door. “Let's get some light in here.”

She hit the button for the double-wide garage door, all of them watching as it moved up on its track. She'd earlier left her car, a Buick SUV, outside in the wide driveway, anticipating their arrival that morning.

“Here you go, boys. I want to thank you again-”

“That's not necessary,” the oldest boy, a handsome 12-year-old named Del, said with a big smile. “We're glad to help.”

The other four boys, smiling and nodding as well, all seemed about nine or ten years old. They were a good-looking lot, she couldn't help thinking, all in brand name jeans and tee-shirts. They also all wore expensive tennis shoes without socks.

She thought preppy was the word that best described them. At least, that's what they called it in her day, not all that long ago, she liked to think. Yet she wasn't sure if anyone even still used that term these days.

“Really, Mrs. Blakely, it's our duty,” Del added.

They belonged to the Helper Scouts, they'd told her two weeks earlier, a Good-Samaritan-type group for young boys whose assistance in the neighborhood (especially for the elderly or the infirm) had apparently proven invaluable.

Honor had already heard stories of the good they were doing.

And the pay they required was strictly a mere token, a single dollar and a treat (a brownie, cookies or a healthy snack was suggested) for each boy. This was for as much assistance as any neighbor, elderly or otherwise, might require.

“Okay,” she said to Del. “But please call me Honor. Like I mentioned before, I'm no longer married…”

She'd recently gone through a terrible divorce, and was without children, so being on her own in such a large house had become a real burden. She'd lately been considering just putting it on the market and moving into a condo or an apartment, anything smaller, until she got her life back in order.

But with the sudden and unexpected arrival of the Helper Scouts, she'd been lately rethinking the entire idea of moving. It really was a great suburban neighborhood, after all. And she'd miss it a lot.

“I'm sorry it's such a mess in here,” Honor told the boys, looking around. “But with me working full time during the week, I'm afraid I've let a few things go. This is one of them.”

They were standing in her attached two-and-a-half car garage, the built-in shelves along the far walls nearly empty because much of what belonged up there was down on the gray cement floor. There were half-full paint cans, tools, old boxes of appliances and electrical parts, and even an ancient-looking IBM typewriter, all of it seemingly abandoned.

The young boys all looked to her.

“No problem…Honor,” the boy named Del said. “This shouldn't take too long.”

She gave him a quick smile.

“Just come into the kitchen when you're done,” she told him, then looked to all of them. “For your treat.”

“Sure.”

And into the kitchen she went.

Honor took the $5 to pay them out of her purse and set it on the counter. Then she smiled, heading into the master bedroom, knowing exactly the treat she was going to give them.

Less than fifteen minutes later, the chore of returning the various items to the built-in shelves a particularly simple one, Del and the four other young boys pushed open the door to the kitchen and trooped on in.

“That was awfully quick,” Honor smiled. “I hope you'll take more time than that in here with me.”

She was wearing black crotchless panties and a black half-bra, the push-up kind that directly presented her large firm breasts to whoever was looking at them, while allowing both of her dark pink nipples (poking out stiffly!) to be clearly seen.