Jeremy and Candy


Jeremy and Candy There is something about being an abandoned child that resonates with us all.  My characters are both foundlings.   Why is it erotic? Is it all about the loss of control? I don’t think Jeremy and Candy will ever shove the old witch of an aunt in the oven and then go finish eating the snacks on her gingerbread house — the grown ups will always have the ultimate control.   Jeremy, just turned 18,  walked Candy, also newly 18,  back to the “The Fortress”  and she snuck back onto the grounds and into the dormitory — very risky. He walked all the way back home, feeling euphoric and thinking only of Candy — he’s even forgotten the knowing looks at the diner and the fact that he spent his last two dollars buying Candy a drink. He is still tingling from the memory of the blow job, and from Candy’s kisses and the soft, spicy smell of green apples in the shampoo she uses. When he goes home, his aunt is waiting and she is livid. He isn’t expecting anger — she thinks he is out with his friends like usual, prowling around in packs the way boys do. He has no idea that the building super has complained to her again about “her little brat” and how he keeps letting the vestibule door slam and it makes flakes of paint jump from the moldings. He knows what those sharp claws digging into his wrist mean, though, it’s only happened a thousand times since he moved in here. It means his jeans unceremoniously yanked down, dragging his shorts with it into a shameful puddle on the floor, and him yelping and squealing as he’s jerked over her knee. And then her hand starts slapping his bare ass – HARD. When he was little, these sudden jerks across his auntie’s knee and the hard spankings that followed would make him gulp and squeal and beg and squirm — he was never really sure why she spanked so often, or why she was so angry all the time, and sometimes she would spank until he wet himself over her knee, which was humiliating. She would tell him he was a nasty little boy and spank him harder. Now he doesn’t have the urge to wet — he has a more mortifying problem in that his cock is rising and swelling and it’s too late to stop it. Only when he is bawling and snivelling and crying does his aunt let him stand up and then he puts his hands on his head and waits, face burning red with shame, his cock standing at half mast and twitching, seeking warmth. Get your  ass upstairs to bed” she says, and he jerks up his jeans over his burning bottom and runs upstairs in tears. istanbul travesti He throws himself on the bed and sobs and one hand goes down his still-undone pants and finds his still-hard cock and he clutches it for comfort. His thoughts immediately go back to Candy and her soft, soft pussy, and then he’s stroking it, and thinking of Candy under him with her legs open and inviting. His heart swells with love love love — he adores Candy. She is the only thing, the only person, that makes him feel good. Really, really, *really* good. He takes her last letter out and reads it again, especially the words, “I love you Jeremy” over and over. It makes tears burn his eyes and he blinks them back. The ink has run in a spot, as if Candy was crying herself when she wrote it. But how could that be? He is confused by the letter, in that it mentions this school dance where they throw together the boys from the Gilman school with the girls from Candy’s school. He doesn’t like the idea of that AT ALL. And Candy doesn’t sound like she likes it either, from the note. She says repeatedly that she loves him, Jeremy, and that is soothing and that feels good. But still…! The thought of other guys circling around his girl, trying to touch HIS GIRL, trying to get her alone and press up and kiss her…try to get their hands up her skirt to feel that soft pussy that Jeremy thinks belongs to HIM and him alone — it fills him with a surging, blinding rage. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, and his hand gropes, frustrated, for his cock, which has responded to the heat of the anger thinking there might be something in that heat worth jacking off for. He strokes, and sweeter thoughts of Candy return. Candy under him at the carnival — BEGGING FOR IT — ! and oohhhhhh that feeling of thrusting it right up inside her in that soft soft warm wet place and her whispering “ohhhhh Jeremy…ohhhh Jeremy!” like she liked it.. Oh, that’s nice. That is very very very nice….unnnnnnnnnggghhhhhh unnnggghhhhhhhhhhhhh…ohhhh Candy….I love you Candy. He’s still twitching and squirting spunk into his hand when his aunt comes back in, eyes flashing and her hairbrush in her hand, and Jeremy goes back over her knee for a good hard spanking with the hairbrush until he is howling and his bare ass is very red and sore. This time when his aunt jerks him to his feet, she says “get dressed for bed” so he has to undress and put on his pajamas in front of her. He gets into istanbul travestileri bed, hating her, and sobs and sucks on his thumb until he falls asleep.  Jeremy’s Aunt always stood him up in front of her with his pants still down. She would continue the scolding that she had delivered, looking him up and down. A peculiarity of Jeremy’s, from his first spankings at the age of six, is that he would stiffen during and sometimes even before being dragged squealing over his Aunt’s broad lap, wriggling and kicking, the picture of Fallen Eros over her heavy thighs.  Sometimes, especially in Summer when his Aunt wore shorts, his erection would be painfully hard;  more often his wand would be 3/4 hard…but whatever his state, you can be sure that his Aunt took full advantage to view it!  She would then, yes, dismiss him to his room,  and, yes, he would run up the stairs crying and yanking up his pants and throw himself on his bed when he got old enough clutch himself for comfort, the bedsprings loud while all unknown to him his Aunt has her greedy ear to the bedroom door.  Jeremy, who was an orphan, was spanked well into his teens by this formidable Aunt of his, who never let him forget how much of a burden he was on her. He had to make do on the tiny allowance she grudgingly gave him and couldn’t afford all the treats –movies, shopping sprees at the mall–that his high school classmates took for granted. Many of them had their own cars. Jeremy walked to school. These deprivations worked on Jeremy and he began to cultivate a “tough” image, wearing the same patched jeans and army-navy jackets, speaking in monosyllables and getting into the occasional fistfight, which he invariably won, as he was lean and trim and quick on his feet.  Altogether he was NOT the sort of boy who could be expected to attract the eye of a girl like Candy, who attended the snobby private school for girls that the townies called the Fortress. And yet…he had done just that.  And he had even managed to bed her, too, with the help of an older pal with a convenient apartment.  And the proof of it were these amazing letters, ones he kept next to his heart in their creased up envelopes with heart decals, taking them out and reading them over and over whenever he could, lingering over the girlish handwriting, forming the tender words with his lips….  Dear Jeremy — I have to be very careful that my Daddy doesn’t catch me writing this to you. I have to keep travesti you a secret, Jeremy. If my Daddy found out, he would be very angry. He won’t let me go out or date or do anything fun. And if he knew what I did with you…! or if he found out I had a real, actual boyfriend, he would kill me. There are eyes everywhere here. Teachers watching, older girls watching younger girls to make sure nobody is alone for even a second. I’m not sure it’s safe using the fountain any more — I think this hateful girl from the fourth form saw me over there and she makes me nervous. There’s another place where you could leave a letter — the downspout on the building behind the horse stables. It’s right near the end where my horse’s stall is, and if they leave both doors open I can disappear for two seconds out the back to check before anybody misses me.   I do hope you have a delivery here sometime soon so you at least get this! And no I can’t bring the fluffy earmuffs every time, they go with a particular outfit.   Candy   Dear Jeremy —   I am trying to write this during class so I can hide it for you to find before this afternoon. Girls are always going out to visit their horses, it is one of the very few things nobody pays any attention to. And I am the only one with a stall in the back. I don’t think anybody else even goes out behind the building where the secret hiding place is (shhh don’t tell 🙂 When I was sitting on your lap in the park, I wanted you so much, Jeremy. Just kissing you and feeling how hard you were in your jeans. I just wanted to rub myself up against it. And I couldn’t believe you put your hand up my skirt and got your finger inside me. Especially after seeing your friends — don’t you worry about people seeing?? It felt really good though, Jeremy. Really good like…that…does. I feel like you’re really my boyfriend when we do that. I want to do things you like.  When can we do that again?  Your Candy (I will let you lick me) Dear Jeremy — I was beginning to despair of ever hearing from you again 🙁 Lauren told me it was over, I would probably never see you again and if I did, you would avoid me so you wouldn’t have to talk to me or admit you even knew me. I cried myself to sleep last night thinking that was true. I realized I don’t even know where you live or your phone number or ANYTHING. It is so hard not being able to see you all the time. I always wonder what you are doing and thinking. Getting your letters makes my day 🙂 🙂 🙂  What you sent back to me was very sticky — !  What does your friend Joey think we are doing at his apartment? Does he know about what we do? You didn’t tell him, did you Jeremy?  I wish you could come to the dance, but don’t worry if you can’t — I won’t dance with anybody.

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