Lukey-Boy Pt. 01

Part 1: The girls next door

Lucas took his engorged penis in his right hand and persuaded it into his swimming trunks. He'd had the trunks since the summer before last, and now that he was eighteen he was taller and much sturdier. They fitted low and too snugly, and he had to arrange his sexual organ on an upward diagonal to avoid giving it an uncomfortable kink. He tucked a stray lock of brown-blond curly hair under the waistband and wished he hadn't lost this year's trunks, the ones he raced in, at the training pool.

Then he peered furtively round his bedroom curtain. The window was open and he had heard splashing from the garden next door. He knew what that meant, and it had caused his semi-erection. Two women had recently moved in, renting the dilapidated Victorian house for a few months. It was another record-breaking summer across southern England, and they had immediately put up a big, sky-blue portable pool.

One of the women looked three or four years older than him, and the other was a fair bit older still. They restored classic cars. There was a sports car parked outside the battered front door, on the gravel of the semicircular drive, almost hidden by overgrown laurels. His father's eyes had lit up when he spied it, and he had murmured, 'Austin Healey!' Then, when he had seen two women working on it, he had snorted with disgust. His father held traditional views on women's capabilities.

Surely it would be all right for Lucas to put his head over the fence and ask to use the pool with them, just to cool off.

The older one was perched with her back to him on one of the triangular platforms that braced the corners of the pool. She had a mane of brown, curling hair and was tanned honey-brown. He could see how the straps of her purple bikini top pressed into the softness of her shoulders. She was not chubby, but her curves were generous. His penis grew harder.

She was watching her younger friend swim breaststroke back and forth in the pool. Her friend was short and not quite slim, in a neat, smoothly-rounded way. Though her skin was creamy, there was a slight African cast to her features and in the way she kept her crisp black hair cropped short. Four strokes one way, four strokes back - it was not that big a pool. Her bikini was black.

The older one laughed. 'Faster!' Her friend obediently increased her speed.

'Faster, bitch!'

'I can't go any faster,' the younger one laughed.

The older one slipped down into the water and grabbed the younger. A splashy, laughing, half - submerged fight began while the older one tried to spank the younger's bottom. Lucas's penis grew so hard that it forced its way beyond the top of his trunks and across his flat, muscular abdomen as if it was longing to get acquainted with his navel.

The younger woman scrambled out of the pool and ran into next door's Victorian conservatory pursued by her friend, who managed to land one or two slaps. The glass of the conservatory was obscured by whitewash roughly painted on from the inside, and Lucas was left with nothing to look at but wet footprints across the patio. His penis thrilled and demanded attention. He sighed, slipped out of the trunks, picked up a box of tissues, and lay down on his bed.

*

Next day, Lucas was walking back to his house from the shops when he saw the younger one coming towards him. She was wearing short shorts and a khaki tank top. He struggled to look anywhere but at her legs, and willed himself not to blush.

When he glanced at her he saw that she was waiting for him at her garden gate. From close up her face was tomboyish, in a pretty, dark-eyed way. The smile on her full, beautifully sculpted lips broadened. She looked amused. She said, 'Hey.'

'Hi.'

'My name's Marguerite. Officially. But people call me Gerry.'

'I'm Lucas.'

'Listen, Lucas, would you like to use our pool while the weather's so hot?'

'Oh. Yes.' He was confused by the way she seemed to find his shyness entertaining. 'Thank you. When...?'

'Any time.' She turned and headed for her front door. 'OK. See ya, Lukey-boy.'

It was almost as if she knew that he hated being called Lukey.

*

Two days went by. On the third, Lucas made a decision, and went out and bought himself a replacement pair of racing trunks in a roomy size. On the fourth, with just a few days left before he would leave for university, he screwed up his courage, and rang the next-door doorbell.

He stood on the doorstep holding a rolled-up towel, wishing he'd worn something more stylish than a T-shirt, and almost hoping that the two women were out.

The older one answered the door. Lucas said, 'Hi.'

'Yes. Come in.' It was as if he had come to read the meter.

She was strong-featured, attractive without being exactly pretty, and her brows were gathered in a frown. 'I'm Carla.'

Lucas had hoped she would be wearing her bikini, but she had on her everyday car-restoring jeans and check shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A heavy watch was on her wrist, on a hide strap.

After the sunlight outside, the hall was dark and cool. He stood, feeling awkward. A faint buzzing came from above. Carla shouted up the broad wooden stairs, 'Gerry! It's Lucas.'

A voice called down, 'I'm in the middle of shaving my pits.'

'Hmph.' Carla could not suppress a smile. 'That's no excuse. Come and say hello. It was your idea to ask him round.'

Gerry's riveting legs came into view as she trotted a few steps down the stairs. Lucas saw that she was wearing a pair of filthy trainers, but an enormous brass electrolier hung in the stairwell and hid her upper half. She ducked down to look at him.

'Hey boy!' Her gaze flickered over Lucas's torso. Today her tank-top was a faded navy one, with oily smudges from motor maintenance.

'Hello,' Lucas replied.

'We're taking a short break from car-bodging. Have fun in the pool. See ya!' The legs turned and scampered upstairs.

Carla said, 'Just go straight on and out through the conservatory. We never bodge, by the way.'

A few minutes later Lucas was floating on his back, alone in sun-warmed water, eyes closed, wondering what he had expected to happen. He'd had some vague images beforehand, of himself splashing about, clowning while the two women laughed at his jokes and fell slightly in love with him. They might both have been impressed with his body - he was starting to win at a high level now, and had the build of a serious swimmer.

He opened his eyes and let his legs swing below him. As he stood upright he found himself looking up at the house. The two women were standing at an upstairs window, apparently debating. Carla shrugged and made a gesture in his direction.

They mustn't see him staring. He flipped forward, twisted, and swam a couple of strokes underwater, then started methodically swimming butterfly stroke from one end of the small pool to the other, three strokes each way

He had started to wonder whether Carla and Gerry might be lesbians. But going to an all-male boarding school had left women a mystery to him. If he hadn't been doing butterfly stroke he would have sighed.

He was drying his feet, seated on a creaking wicker sofa in the conservatory, when he heard the women coming down the stairs. The door between the conservatory and the house was open. Their words were indistinct until Gerry said, laughing, ''Cause I'm still on my period, you silly cunt. But you know it's my turn.'

Carla replied, 'So when will you do it? Assuming you're serious.'

'Course I'm serious. I'll be OK Thursday. Hi Lukey-boy.' They had appeared in the open doorway.

'Oh, hello.'

'Listen, boy, how'd you like to pop round for a dip and a drink the day after tomorrow?' She narrowed her eyes, gauging his response. 'Three-ish? Maybe stay an hour or two?'

'Thursday? I mean, yes. I mean, I'm not going up to Cambridge till Friday. Thank you.'

Gerry smiled slowly. 'Isn't it nice how he blushes nearly down to his nipples? Puppyish charm, right?'

Carla said, 'Puppies don't blush.'

'They have more than two nipples, if you're going to get all literal about it. Listen, boy, me and her are going out the front now to bicker about spark plugs. See you properly on Thursday. Bye for now.'

As they left, Lucas heard Carla say, 'We don't bicker. Why did you say that?'

Their voices were becoming more distant. 'Because we do, that's why.'

'No we don't.'

'What're we doing now, then?'

They were out of earshot. Lucas peeled off his wet trunks and dried his unruly genitals.

*

When Carla opened the door on Thursday, Lucas froze for a moment. She was wearing the minimum: three red-orange cotton triangles held in place by tie-strings barely thicker than shoelaces. His gaze seemed filled with tanlines. As she stepped backwards to let him in, her soft breasts, hammocked by the cloth, swung heavily and the side-light showed where her nipples were hidden. The twin triangles of the bikini top were joined in the middle by a bow, so that if he had dared he could have reached out, and with one tug...

He was in the hall with its cool tiled floor before he remembered that he had a larynx. He said hello.

Carla's tone was one degree warmer today. 'Follow me. Gerry thinks we should have a drink before our dip.' She led him towards the rear of the house. Her bikini bottom had a triangle of fabric at the back which covered the crack of her rump. He had imagined more tie-strings, but he felt relieved to be wrong. There was something confusing about Carla's aloofness versus her provocative near-nudity. Still, he could not take his eyes off Carla's buttocks as they rose and fell with her strides. He sensed strong muscles under her soft curves.

Gerry was lounging against a kitchen worktop, wearing a black one-piece swimsuit which pushed her breasts together to show a little cleavage - a little being all she had. Below, where the fabric moulded itself to the gentle curve of her belly, a neat circular cutaway exposed creamy skin and, like a bullseye, her navel. She said, 'Lukey-boy!' and handed him a large, cut-glass, stemmed jelly-glass full of translucent yellow-green liquid. 'It's a margerita. Sorry no proper martini glasses. This is all they had in the house.'

Carla took her own margarita from the worktop and looked Gerry up and down. 'Like the new swimsuit,' she said.

'But what about the back?' Gerry asked, and turned round.

Lucas stood with his drink against his lips, paralysed. A second round cutaway revealed the whole upper half of the crack between Gerry's buttocks. This was even more provocative than Carla's succulent rear cheeks.

'Nice.' Carla took a sip of margarita.

Gerry twisted round to ask Lucas, 'What does the boy think?'

'Very,' Lucas spluttered into his margarita, 'nice.'

'See, Carly, he has good taste,' said Gerry, adding, 'Carly is in awe of my pert bum. Let's take our drinks to the pool.'

At the pool they rested their drinks on the corner triangles. The women got in and, after stripping down to his trunks, so did Lucas - quickly, because he felt his bulge was obvious. Soon they were fooling about with a beach ball and chatting, occasionally sipping their drinks. Carla seemed to eye him more than she talked to him. Gerry's talk had a teasing undertone - still, she clearly wanted him around, and he liked that a lot, even though he told himself she wasn't really his feminine ideal.

Perhaps it didn't matter if he wasn't witty. At least he felt secure about his penis now. As long as he didn't stare too long at the way Carla's breasts bobbed in the water and the way the wet cotton moulded to her nipples, his penis wouldn't expand enough to make itself eye-catching.

Lucas glanced towards Gerry and saw that she had no inhibitions about staring: she was contemplating Carla's breasts with a greedy smile. Suddenly she ran her tongue across her gleaming teeth. 'We've finished our drinks,' she said. 'Lets go inside.'

In the conservatory the sunlight on the whitewashed glass filled the space with heat and a soft brightness. There was an immaculate chrome-plated tool chest next to the wicker sofa today. Lucas assumed that it had to do with fixing the Austin Healey.

He started drying his mop of curly blond hair. The towel was across his eyes and flopping about his ears, but he caught a few murmured words passing between the women. He emerged from the towel to see them looking into each other's eyes, standing very close while they dried each other's arms with one huge black towel. They stopped, and turned to look at him.

Carla gave him a steady look and said, 'We're turning him on.'

'Oh, I think he just wants us to dry him too.' There was something coolly predatory at the corners of Gerry's half-smile. She walked towards Lucas with the towel in her hand.

There was an air about Gerry that perhaps had always been there, but it struck him now, and panicked him. He unconsciously dropped his towel and took a step back, only to find himself against one of the Victorian conservatory's cast-iron columns. Gerry reached up - Lucas was tall - and started carefully drying his neck. He looked all about him. Anywhere but down her cleavage.

Carla said, 'You'll make him over-excited. You know what men are like. You're not safe.'

'Do you think so? Maybe you ought to do something about that.' Gerry began towelling Lucas's face. He screwed up his eyes, dimly aware of Carla's bare feet padding across the tiled floor near him. What should he do? If he laid hands on Gerry to stop her, he would seem 'over-excited'.

Next moment Lucas felt his wrists seized in Carla's strong hands. He had the strength to break away, but Gerry had dropped the towel and now deftly took his nipples between her fingers and thumbs, squeezing them hard and tugging. Before he could get over the shock his wrists were behind the column, his own towel was looped around them, it tightened fiercely, and he was too confused to struggle. He was trapped. He laughed nervously.

The two women placed themselves in front of him. Carla looked stern. Gerry still had the trace of a smile on her lips. However, it was not the sort of smile to reassure Lucas. He thought of one of his aunts, a large aunt who was obscenely fond of Turkish delight, who smiled in exactly the same way whenever she opened a new box.

'OK,' said Carla. There was contempt in her voice. 'Let's explain. We can untie you. You just have to ask. Then you go home and never see us again. Or, you stay. You apologise to us, and after that... well, we'll tell you what could happen "after that" if you apologise.

Lucas felt a chasm of unfocused guilt yawn beneath him. He said, dry-tongued, 'Apologise?'

'Yes. For spying on us. People don't generally like to be spied on, especially when they're women and they're almost naked. But I expect you knew that already, didn't you?'

Lucas hung his head and squirmed under the gaze of the two women. And yet, to his horror, his penis seemed to enjoy the situation. His new trunks bulged as tightly as if he was smuggling a prize courgette.

He nodded.

'So why did you do it? To make your stupid dick stiff?'

His guilt was obvious from his red-faced gaze at the floor and a shuffle of his feet.

'OK. Now's your chance to say sorry.'

Lucas stammered out a mumble in which 'sorry' could be deciphered.

Gerry said, 'You've apologised. It's a start. Do you want to know why we're prepared to let you stay, even though we're annoyed with you? It's so you can actually make amends for what you did. Do you want to make amends?'

Lucas nodded, bewildered but desperate to redeem himself.

'You see, me and Carly like to play games where we boss each other around,' said Gerry. 'Today it's my turn to be on top. That's what we call it. And I can use you to make Carly incredibly at-the-bottom. But basically, you've got to put yourself totally in my hands.'

Lucas hesitated.

Gerry went on, 'You want to be friends with us, don't you?'

Carla snorted. 'That's not the way to convince him. Listen, boy, are you a virgin?'

This flung Lucas into an absolute steam-room of embarrassment. 'Well, you see, I was at an all-boys boarding school till these holidays, and you see...'

'Not much chance to meet girls?'

'Well, with studying and training - and my parents had private tuition for me in the holidays too, you see, to get me into Father's old college. And he wouldn't let me have a gap year. He believes in hard work.'

'Lukey will play,' said Carla, dismissively. 'Even I can't help noticing what's happening inside his boy-knickers. Listen boy, once Gerry gets bossy she can be pretty harsh. So just remember, whatever she says to you, it's only a game.'

Gerry said, 'Safe word.' She was staring at Lucas's 'boy-knickers' with the Turkish delight expression.

'Good point,' said Carla. 'If any of us really wants something to stop, they say "crimson", OK? You can say "stop" as many times as you like, but it won't make any difference. In fact Gerry will probably get even harsher.' Carla put an affectionate arm around Gerry's shoulder and squeezed. 'Won't you, you evil cunt?'

Lucas cleared his throat - but wavered, and said nothing.

'So what're you going to do?' Gerry stepped towards him and reached out, with her head on one side, to tease a fallen lock of damp blond hair off his forehead. This time he forgot to look away from her cleavage. A few drops of water still twinkled there. He could feel sweat forming at the top of his brow.

She ran a finger over the contours of his upper arm. 'Mm, you must be so strong. You'll be really useful. So do you want to play?'

Carla suggested from behind Gerry, 'See below for answer?'

Gerry looked down, and gave a shocked, 'Oh-ho-ho-ho!'

'Must be worse than I imagined,' said Carla. Her view was obstructed by Gerry.

'He's grown a fucking great German sausage out of his leg-hole. Wow.' For a few seconds she gawped open-mouthed at the sheer size of the impudent intruder. 'OK, I can't wait any longer. I'm going to take this thing as a yes.'

'So I kneel?' asked Carla.

Gerry was suddenly forceful. 'Of course you kneel, you slag.'

Carla dropped to her knees on the tiled floor. 'And what have I done wrong?'

'You were unwelcoming to Lukey.' Gerry stepped to one side so that Carla and Lucas faced one another. 'From now on,' she said, 'you will both obey me absolutely. Carly, I'm going to call you cunt-slave, right? And Lukey is going to be cock-slave.'

Lucas was open-mouthed.

'And you both must call me Ms M. So, cunt-slave, get his cock and balls right out where we can see them properly.'

Carla shuffled towards Lucas on her knees.

Up to the last instant Lucas could not quite believe what was about to happen. As Carla reached towards his genitals, his only thought was that her short, neatly-trimmed fingernails were painted gold. And then she really did take his erection in her left hand, while she burrowed her right hand in through his leg-hole, slid it round his testicles, and pulled them into the light of day. Meanwhile, the red-orange cotton triangles flopped away from her breasts a little. He saw how the white curves of untanned flesh were tinted by the light coming through the cotton. He could almost see her nipples. His penis reared violently upwards, though the pressure from the leg-hole pushed his sexual equipment off-centre.

Carla let go of him, dropped her head and wiped her hands on the sides of her thighs.

'Mm. Nice big balls to go with his nice big dick,' said Gerry. 'Look at them, cunt-slave! Stare at his cock and balls.'

'But Ms M...,' Carla protested.

'Yes?'

'I don't like men's things.'

'Shut up, bitch, and do as you're told.'

Carla stared at Lucas's genitals, as ordered.

'Aren't they a lovely sight, cunt-slave? Doesn't he have a fine set of fucking-tools? A massive great megalithic dick to fill a cunt right up. And those balls - aren't they fine? Just right to pump a bucketful of cum into a cunt.'