A Note from Mabel

When Benny gets a sexy note from longtime schoolmate Mabel, he can't wait to bed her. However, he is shocked to learn about Mabel's extensive and sordid past.

Part One

Mabel Miller had been a classmate of mine in Canada since the second grade. At that time, Mabel was a cute and utterly pleasant little girl with straight dirty-blonde hair, a slim build, and a slightly crooked smile. As she aged, Mabel steadily became one of the most attractive females in elementary school, middle school, and finally high school. I was always happy when she engaged in friendly chatting with me.

There was a girl-next-door aura about Mabel. However, there had always been a persistent rumor about her. It dated as far back to when she was a preteen, although I never saw any evidence of it being true until my senior year of high school. According to schoolboy lore, Mabel was quietly something akin to a nymphomaniac who would seek out older boys at her school for carnal delights. Gossip stated she would write them notes asking them for sex and leave them in their desks or lockers. Neither I nor any of my male buddies (that I know of) was ever lucky enough to find such a missive in one of our desks or lockers. I can state as a certainty that if any of us had been so fortunate, we all would have readily agreed to do whatever Mabel wanted to do.

One day when I, Benjamin (Benny) Kramer, was 18, I was having a bad morning at school. First, I had gotten into a nasty disagreement with my history teacher about an idea I had for my major assignment in our Second World War unit. I submitted my official plan to pen an essay about the Battle of Guadalcanal—and I’d already begun my research. However, my teacher, a female whose level of expertise I often questioned, called me to her desk when the class had ended. She vetoed my plans because Canadian soldiers had no role in that battle. I pointed out that when she handed out the guidelines for the essay, there was no such restriction mentioned. I also said, “It’s called World War II for a reason!”—emphasizing the word “world.” She refused to budge, saying, “In a Canadian history course, you should assume any essay about that war would need to be focused on something Canadian.” I threw up my hands, angrily called her “obtuse and narrow-minded,” and stormed out of the classroom. I expected to be summoned to the principal’s office for my show of disrespect. As I was mentally preparing to defend my actions, I realized I had accidentally left my wallet at home that morning, so I had no money to buy my lunch in the cafeteria. (Luckily, a buddy lent me enough coins to pay for a bowl of tomato soup.) Thus, I was a little bit surly, to say the least.

My outlook on life markedly improved after my spartan lunch, however, when I opened my locker. To my astonishment, I discovered a pink envelope with my name neatly written on it. Apparently, it had been slipped into it via the slight crack between my locker and the one to its right. Immediately I wondered if this could finally be a legendary, sexy note from Mabel Miller. It was!

The hand-written note on pink stationery read, “Benjamin, I’ve known you for about a decade now. I’ve been fantasizing about you for the past week, so I think it’s way overdue that I get to know you intimately. I want to give you a memorable and thorough fucking! If this interests you, meet me at my locker (#373) after the last class today. I’ll be waiting impatiently for you. Hugs and kisses, Mabel Miller.”

My last class was far away from where Mabel’s locker was, but I figure I set a new speed record for getting from one end of the school to the other where the lockers numbered 300 to 399 were located. Still, Mabel beat me there. When I was about 20 yards away, I hollered her name to let her know I hadn’t declined her invitation. She waved at me to acknowledge that she had heard me—as had five dozen other students who were lingering near their lockers.

“Oh, I see you read my note,” Mabel declared once I was standing next to her. “Good! I thought you might have missed seeing it or you just weren’t interested.”

“The first possibility could have happened,” I told her after I caught my breath after my sprint. “There’s no way the second possibility is realistic.”

Mabel smiled. “I was hoping that would be your response, Benny,” she said. Then she sweetly kissed me on the cheek. Being a polite young man, I returned the favor.

“Let’s go somewhere we can speak privately. Maybe the school library, Benny?” she suggested.

“How about the ice cream parlor down the road?” I countered. Then I remembered, “Oh, geez! I have no money. I stupidly left my wallet at home. I even had to scrounge some coins from a friend to buy a measly bowl of soup at the cafeteria today.”

“I have plenty of money; I can pay,” Mabel stated.

I replied, “Okay, I’ll let you pay, Mabel, but tomorrow I’ll repay you every penny. This is going to be my treat—albeit a delayed one. How often does an average guy like me get to take a beautiful girl like you for an ice cream date?”

Mabel countered, “Oh, Benny! What a lovely thing to say! I’ve never heard you say anything like that in all the years that I’ve known you.”

“Well,” I explained, “I’ve never gotten a note like that from you or anyone else before.”

Part Two

When we got to the ice cream parlor I was in an extravagant mood, so I ordered a deluxe banana split. Mabel just had a medium-size strawberry sundae. We found a table in a distant corner so we could chat privately. Given what Mabel told me, it was a good thing that no one could overhear us talking
.
Since Mabel had been so forward with what she penned in her note to me, I figured I could be just as forthright. I said to her in a whisper, “I can’t wait for us to fuck, Mabel. We’re both 18 now, but I’ve thought you were a sexy dish for years!”

“Thanks for the compliment, Benny. To be very honest with you, I prefer guys who are older than I am—sometimes considerably older. But we’re in our last year of high school. We’ll be graduating soon. There’s nobody here who’s more than a few months older than I am. You’re undoubtedly the nicest guy my age. You always have been the nicest guy since we were in Mrs. Tomlinson’s second-grade class.”

“Now there’s a name from the past!” I exclaimed. “I haven’t thought about her for years.” Then I realized that I had interrupted Mabel. I apologized and asked her to please continue with why she preferred older romantic partners.

“I’ve never told anyone outside my family about this, but Benny, somehow I feel okay telling you a huge part of my life story.”

I thanked her for that subtle compliment and gestured for her to continue. She did.

“When I was six years old, I had a 12-year-old brother…” she began.

“Had?” I asked. “Did he die?”

“No, but Clark is no longer a part of the family,” Mabel added. I wondered how that could possibly be the case.

Mabel began her tale of woe. “Once Clark turned 12, my parents let him babysit me whenever they went out somewhere for half an hour or for an entire evening. He was my only sibling, and I loved my brother very much. When my parents were out, I’d often snuggle up with him on the couch to watch TV. One day, he cuddled with me very enthusiastically. I enjoyed it. Then he got bolder and bolder as the weeks went by. I still liked the attention and the cuddling, so my attitude encouraged him to take further steps towards things he definitely should not have been doing with his six-year-old sister. I was too young and naïve to know it was wrong. Fast forward six months to one Saturday afternoon when I was seven and Clark was 13. Let’s just say we were being as intimate as we could possibly be. My parents came home earlier than expected from what was supposed to be a three-hour shopping trip. The TV was blaring so loudly that we didn’t hear them enter the house. Anyway, they both saw Clark and me on the couch naked. He was on top of me. Do I need to say what he was doing? I’m sure you get the picture. Dad was beyond furious with Clark—but not with me because he figured our sexual escapades were all Clark’s idea. He gave him a severe beating and said to him, “You are no longer my son and I forbid you to live in this house with the three of us!” It was quickly arranged that Clark would henceforth live with some childless distant relatives 500 miles away. I haven’t seen him or heard from him in 11 years.”

“No contact at all?” I asked.

“Not directly, but about four years ago I overheard my parents saying that Clark was paying way too much attention to a couple of seven-year-old twin girls in the neighborhood where he now lived. Clark admitted to his new parents he had befriended the girls because he wanted to fuck them. He’s now on a very short leash because he can’t be trusted. He’s basically not allowed to venture anywhere by himself.

“Wow…just wow!” I said sadly. “I’m really sorry about that, Mabel.”

“Hey, there’s no need for you to be sorry for anything, Benny. You didn’t touch me. Anyway, I truly missed Clark being around because I really liked what we would do when we were alone—and now I suddenly had no one to do sex things with. I missed that part of my life.” Mabel paused her story and ate part of her sundae. Then she resumed her revealing monologue.

“This all happened when I was in Mrs. Tomlinson’s class. I discovered, just by asking some of the oldest boys at the school, that four of them would gladly do sex things with me for fun. Every day, one of them—sometimes more—would escort me to a secluded part of the wooded area near our school yard and we would do lots of things together when classes were dismissed—things Clark had never done with me. I have to admit I liked it. As I got older, I started to seek out middle school and high school boys for my companions. I seemed to have a sixth sense about who would be agreeable to having sex with me on very short notice wherever we could find somewhere secluded. I never had much trouble finding volunteers. Now, I’ve moved on to seeking random adult males.”

Mabel Miller was a certified sex addict! I didn’t know whether to pity Mabel or look upon her with a sense of complete awe. Either way, I was getting very turned on by her story of underage promiscuity. Curiosity overtook me, so I asked her, “What possessed you to invite me for a sexual romp, Mabel? I’m average-looking at best and a little bit overweight for my age and size. I’m not exactly a girl magnet in our high school.”

“I suppose I want to try something different,” answered Mabel. “Benny, first of all you would be the first sex partner of mine who was my age. That would be new and exciting for me. Secondly, Benny, you really are a nice guy—and have been since the first day I spoke to you back in the second grade. Not including Clark, I’ve never had a sexual relationship with somebody I truly like. After my experiences with Clark, my sex life has always been about physical desires with absolutely nothing romantic or emotional attached to it. Therefore, I’m hoping a fuck with you would add some variety to my usual flings. I’m sure you like variety in your sex life, Benny. Am I right?”

“I’ll be totally honest with you, Mabel” I responded glumly. “Based on what you just told me about yourself, you probably had 10 times more sexual experiences by the age of seven than I’ve had during my whole, sheltered 18-plus years of life. Just about any sexual encounter would be something new to me.”

Mabel just laughed softly at my frank account of my pitiful sex life. She gave me an affectionate hug and said, “Maybe we ought to get together four or five times so I can give you plenty of experiences to add to your sexual résumé. How about we start tonight?”

“I hate to say no to that wonderful offer, Mabel, but I can’t make it tonight,” I told her. "I have a family function to attend—a cousin’s birthday party. Can we make it tomorrow?”

“Absolutely!" she said. “Benny, there’s a reasonably inexpensive motel about two miles out of town called Happy Travels. I’m well known to the manager there because it’s the place my dates most often take me there for fucking. I’ll meet you in the lobby tomorrow at 8 p.m. I’ll make a two-hour reservation for us; maybe I can swing a deal for a really cheap price.”

“I know where that motel is located. I’ll be there, Mabel—and there’s no chance I’ll be late,” I said. Then I added, “Sorry about my not being available tonight.”

“That’s okay, Benny.” Mabel said with a smile and an unconcerned voice. “I’ll just fuck someone else tonight—but you’re definitely my guy for tomorrow.”

Part Three

The next day at school, I lingered around Mabel’s locker to repay her for the ice cream treats and to make certain that her plans for tonight included two hours of fucking with me at the Happy Travel Motel. It did. Mabel was impressed that I repaid her for the goodies. “I had completely forgotten about that,” she told me.

“I’ve got the cost of the motel tonight, too, of course,” I told her. “Did you make our reservation?”

“Yes, I certainly did,” she said. “I think you’ll like the price I negotiated.”

I didn’t really think too hard about that remark. I just nodded and smiled. Mabel and I had no shared classes, so I simply hugged her and told her I’d meet her in the motel lobby at the appointed time.

I beat Mabel to the Happy Travel Motel by about 12 minutes and took a seat by the front desk. I sensed that it was unusual for people not to arrive in pairs at this establishment. When Mabel arrived, she was greeted by name by the proprietor, a fellow named Thomas, according to the nametag he wore. “Thomas sees me here all the time; he thinks I’m a hooker!” she whispered to me once we were checked in and walking to room #6. “He doesn’t know that I fuck for the sheer fun and pleasure of it.”

When we entered the room, Mabel announced, “Okay, Benny sweetheart. I invited you here so I’m in charge. I order you to disrobe and lie on the bed naked. I will take good care of you for the next two hours. I think we’ll both have a great time!”

“How can I not have a great time sharing a bed with you?” I asked rhetorically, but Mabel replied anyway.

“What a lovely thing to say! Hey, you really are a nice, kind-hearted guy, Benny! We should have done this years ago.”

I removed my clothes quickly and took my place on the bed so I could enjoy the sight of Mabel disrobing. She put on a bit of a show for me. Mabel got down to her undergarments and then discarded them sexily, flinging her bra and panties at me while laughing. I caught both delicate items and laid them gently on the floor to the left of the queen-sized bed.

“Hey, that’s a decent-sized, sexy dick you have, Benny!” Mabel exclaimed. It was then I noticed that my seven-inch dick was pointing skyward, and I was as hard as I’d ever been in my young life.

I thanked Mabel as she hopped into bed beside me. We briefly embraced. I had barely touched her tempting breasts when she slid downward to please my penis which really needed no further encouragement to stand firmly at attention. She put her mouth around it and began licking it intently. “This has to be seven inches for sure!” Mabel said with delight.

“It is,” I said to confirm her expert estimate. “I’ve measured it a couple of times. But being here with you may have caused it to grow even larger, if that’s possible.” Mabel smiled and continued her fine blowjob efforts.

“Oh, that’s excellent, Mabel!” I complimented her. “You have this down to an art.”

“Twelve years of regular practice can make you good at anything,” she joked. “It’s time to put your cock to work, Benny. Prepare to be mounted!”

True to her word, Mabel positioned herself accordingly and dropped her pussy onto my erect phallus. Slowly she sank down on it. She let out a slight moan—perhaps it was legitimate, perhaps it wasn’t. I really didn’t care. It sounded sexy to me. Eventually Mabel Miller’s pussy came to rest on my crotch, at which point she gave me a mischievous smile—which was a real turn-on. She had taken my seven-inch rod with no difficulty whatsoever.

I said, “Quite impressive, Mabel!” and put my hands on her waist as she began to bounce on me. I lifted her up and down to give her a helping hand. Watching her perky breasts jiggle was very erotic. She had me completely captivated.

“If you think I’m going to last more than another minute with you riding my dick like that, you are an incredible optimist,” I said.

“Well, in that case, you might as well come now!” she replied. Mabel began to gyrate her pussy as we fucked. That brought me to a tremendous orgasm about 20 seconds later. I grunted with pleasure and then laughed with satisfaction at the long extent of my sensational cum shot. I may have fired six shots of semen into Mabel’s freshly shaved pussy. I actually lost count.

“Wow, Benny! I can tell that was quite a load you put inside me. Well done!” she gushed at my gusher of goo. “It’s a shame that more girls haven’t experienced what you have to offer.”

“It was that impressive?” I asked honestly.

Mabel thought about things and said to me, “As you know, Benny, I’ve been doing this for quite a while—two-thirds of my life, to be precise. That was probably a top-five cum shot that ended up inside me—and top 15 overall.”

“More guys come outside of your pussy than inside? That surprises me!” I stated.

“Let’s just say that some guys don’t last very long when I start playing with their dicks,” she said. “Benny, you showed very good self-control for someone who doesn’t fuck very often.”

I took that remark as a compliment. After a few moments, I finally pulled my flaccid dick from Mabel’s love chute and tugged on it gently.

“That’s my job, remember!” Mabel scolded me.

“Oh, okay! I’ll let you revive it. Can I enjoy your tits while you do that, please, Mabel? I’ve barely touched them.”

“Sure Benny, honey, sure!” Mabel replied with kindness. We repositioned ourselves so she could give me a resuscitative hand job while I played with and sucked on her lovely round tits that were firm and slightly big for her slim torso. I enjoyed them thoroughly.

“Your tits are terrific, Mabel.” I stated honestly. “I think I first noticed them in grade six.”

“You were late to the party, Benny, very late,” she jokingly chided me. “Clark noticed my breast buds when I was in grade one. That’s what got him horny. By the time I was in grade three, about 20 boys at our elementary school had seen and fondled them—with my eager permission, of course.” Just for a moment I had forgotten Mabel’s sordid past. That anecdote was a jolt of reality to me.

“Your dick is hard again,” Mabel merrily announced about a minute later. “Time for more fucking! How do you want to do it this time, Benny dear?”

“I’m a traditional guy, so how about a traditional missionary-position fuck?” I suggested. I think being on top of you and driving my big dick into your hole as hard as I can, would be a simply heavenly way to spend some time. Furthermore, if I get bored doing that—which is highly unlikely—I can play with your tits some more!”

So that’s what I did. I spent six or seven minutes just lying atop my sexy and experienced bedmate, pounding her vagina mercilessly with my hard and long erection. Then I announced, “I want to stand while fucking you to see if I can penetrate you even better that way, Mabel!” I dismounted her, pulled her to the end of the bed so her pussy was at its edge, and her legs were in the air. Mabel was obviously familiar with this situation. She calmly rested her feet on my shoulders as I continued to plow away with a variety of long and short thrusts. All those explicit porn movies I’d rented over the years had provided excellent visual instructions for me!

Nature inevitably called and I felt another cum shot building inside my balls. I pulled out and shot my load onto Mabel’s stomach. The jism mostly collected near her sexy navel. A few drops dotted her breasts. My second blast was a mere trickle compared to my awesome first one. My dick retained its stiffness for longer than I expected, so I thrust it back inside Mabel for good measure.

“Nice stamina, Benny!” she declared. “I could get very used to you as a regular fuck buddy!”

“That compliment has earned you a long romantic kiss, Mabel” I told her. I was dead serious. I climbed back up onto the bed, embraced this sexpot warmly and engaged in an elongated smooch. Mabel was not as good at kissing as I expected. I concluded that her countless sexual exploits rarely involved much of that sort of G-rated foreplay.

After about 100 minutes of shared bedtime, we both showered and prepared to vacate the hotel room at the scheduled 10 p.m. departure time. It occurred to me that I hadn’t reimbursed my bedmate for the evening’s lone expense. “How much do I owe you for renting this room for us, Mabel? By the way, it served our purpose just great.”

She cavalierly waved her right hand at me and said, “Forget about it, Benny!”

“No, I can’t do that, Mabel. I told you I pay for this room. This experience will have been worth every penny to me, even if it’s $1,000.”

Mabel laughed and said, “Benny, 40 couples could get two hours of fucking time here for $1,000! When I said to forget it, I meant that I got a special deal tonight and you owe me nothing.”

I was puzzled by that tidbit of information and asked for an explanation as to why our room was free. Mabel said coolly, “Thomas agreed to give me a room for two hours with you tonight for absolutely nothing when I told him I’d fuck him as my form of payment.”

I just chuckled and gave Mabel an affectionate hug for her creativity and business savvy. “So, when are you going to fuck Thomas? Tomorrow or the next day, perhaps?”

“No, I’ll be fucking him tonight, Benny,” Mabel announced without a hint of shame. “Once we’ve checked out of this room and you are on your way home, Thomas’s shift will end. I’m not leaving for another hour. I’m meeting Thomas in Room #12 shortly after 10 p.m. He thinks I’m giving him a superb rate for a hooker.”