June and the Washing Machine Ch. 02

(This is a continuation of a previous story, where June - a 1950s housewife - caught a young neighbor watching her pleasure herself upon a washing machine.)

*

She hung the laundry to dry. Went around to the front of the house, opened the gate in the white picket fence and began walking down the tree-lined street.

A few minutes later, June was knocking on her neighbor's door. After a moment, Monica answered.

"Hello Monica."

"Oh June, do come in. May I get you some tea?"

"Oh, that's too kind of you. But I've actually come to see Jeremy. I was wondering if I could borrow him for a moment. My husband is at work and I need a strong young man to help me lift some boxes into the attic."

Monica turned to the interior of the house, "JEREMY!" she bellowed. Not hearing a response, she called again.

From inside the house, a young man yelled back, "Whaddya want?!"

Jeremy Stevens was eighteen. A bit of a pushover at James Madison High School, he was the frequent target of bigger bullies. He had never kissed a girl and didn't play sports. He came bouncing down the stairs, a flushed look on his face. "Ma, I'm busy --"

He stopped midway down the stairs when he saw June.

"What is she doing here?" It was more accusation than question.

June thought she heard a note of panic in his voice and he seemed somewhat out of breath.

Monica waved a finger at her son, "Manners, Jeremy! You're going to apologize to Mrs. Smith for being so impolite and then you are going to go help her lift some boxes into her attic."

"But...but...I can't! I've got homework to do!" The words fumbled out of him.

"It's been summer vacation for the last two weeks. You don't have any homework." Monica looked at June and sighed, "I'm so sorry, June, I just don't know what's gotten into him."

"It's OK," June said.

"Yeah, ma -- it's OK."

"No, no it's not. You will apologize to Mrs. Smith. You will go and help her. And when you return, you and I might have to have one of our special conversations."

"BUT MA!"

"Would you like for us to have that conversation here in front of Mrs. Smith?"

Silence.

"And don't think I wouldn't do it young man. You may be going to college in the fall but I AM still your mother. " There was steel in her voice.

More silence. Monica shrugged, "Ok -- go get my hairbru --"

"No! No! I'm sorry Mrs. Smith." The boy took a deep breath. "Let's go."

They walked in silence the two blocks to the Smith house. In the backyard, laundry hung drying over the clothesline. June looked down and realized that the fly to Jeremy's pants had been unzipped since he came down from his bedroom. Neither she nor his mom had noticed it before.

Once inside June locked the front door.

Jeremy looked around hopefully, "Where's the boxes?

"You were spying on my this morning, Jeremy."

The young man looked away from June. "No, no I wasn't. That was somebody else."

"No, Jeremy, that was you. I saw you in the window. You were looking in our basement window. You were looking at..." June slapped him. Hard. The sudden anger surprised her and she slapped him again. Then she began pounding her small fists against his chest.

"Stop! Stop! Mrs. Smith! I'm sorry -- I didn't want to see you, but I did and then I couldn't not look and I'm real sorry and don't tell my mom!! Stop, please!" The teenager, being slightly larger than June pushed the small woman away.

His words continued to come out in a torrent, "Don't tell my mom about it. I'm already in trouble 'cause I what I said and I'm gonna get it when I get home. She'd kill me if she knew. Especially since you were...you know." He stopped. He looked at June. He saw her on the washing machine. Naked. Wanton. Legs spread. Fingering herself.

June blushed. "What's your mother going to do to you, Jeremy?"

He looked at the floor. The grandfather clock in the hall began to strike noon.

"Tell me. The phone is right over there. I'll call her right now."

Jeremy looked up. "You can't. Cause then you'd have to tell her what you were doing."

"No, Jeremy. No I won't have to. You see, I don't have to tell her about the spying. I'll just let your mother know l caught you taking a pair of my underwear and one of my brassieres off of the line in the basement. That you were down there getting the boxes and I came down and caught you."

He was beaten and he knew it.

"So what is your mother going to do to you?"

"She's going to spank me. Probably. That's what one of her 'special conversations' means."

"Will it be on your bare bottom?" June thought of her husband removing her nightgown that morning for her own punishment.

"Yes."

"Will she use her hand? Or something else?"

"Dunno. Depends upon how mad she is. Probably her hand - maybe her hairbrush."

It was then June noticed the young man's erection pushing the white of his underwear through the open fly. A horrible thought came to her about what Jeremy had been doing when she showed up at his house. About who and what he had been thinking about.

She knew then what she had to do. She had known it at some level when she cleaned herself up, dressed and hung the laundry on the line. She had known when she had lied to Monica about the nonexistent boxes.

"Come with me." Taking Jeremy by the hand, she led the quaking youth into the master bedroom.

She pulled his pants down. Lifted his underwear over his erect penis and pulled it down his thighs. She then picked up her husband's belt.

"But..."

"Shhhhhh...."

Doubling up the belt in her hand, June felt more than a little trepidation.

"Bend over Jeremy."

END

Epilogue:

That night, June's husband came out of the bedroom. He held the belt in his hand. "Little One, why was this on the table next to your bed?"