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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 27 Sep 2003 23:31:50 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: {ASSM} John Carter I 14 (mf mmf ffm ff mm sci-fi)
Date: Sun, 28 Sep 2003 17:10:11 -0400
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<1st attachment, "JC14.txt" begin>

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by 
sexually explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading 
now. This material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes 
without the consent of the author.

John Carter
By
Lazlo Zalezac 
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezak, 2003


Part 1: Shield, Staff, and Compass
Chapter 14

John leaned against his walking stick waiting for Mr. Jensen to 
settle into his chair. It was an old chair; one that had been repaired 
many times yet remained functional and level. The yard was neatly 
trimmed and free of weeds. The grass was green despite the time 
of year. The porch was clean; he swept it every morning with a 
broom that looked as old as he. The house was in good repair. John 
had watched him paint the outside of the house last summer. For a 
man in his seventies, he was still very active.

"Oh, John. I didn't see you there."

"I was just waiting for you to get settled, Mr. Jensen."

"Call me Jim."

"Sure Mr. Jensen."

"I had to try. You're too polite for these times. A kid called me old 
fart this morning. I guess I prefer Jim to Mr. Jensen and Mr. Jensen 
to old fart."

John laughed, "I hope you hit the kid with your cane!"

"Nah, he was just a young punk raised by irresponsible parents. 
Can't teach them manners once they reach a certain age."

"I must agree with you on that, sir."

Jim assessed John, "Your parents did well with you."

"Thank you, sir. I must admit there were times that it must have 
been rough for them."

"Kids are still kids. Never saw a perfect parent-child relationship. 
The kids want to grow up and the parents want them to stay kids. 
That's always a recipe for conflict."

"True."

John readjusted his stance a little impatiently. Mr. Jensen noticed, 
"So why are you stopping here to talk to this old fart, anyway?"

John laughed, "Old fart indeed. You're twice as spry as a man half 
your age. I stopped by because I need to ask a favor of you."

"Ask away," responded Jim. He liked the idea of being useful and 
appreciated John thinking he could ask him for something. One of 
the greatest tragedies of growing old was being treated as if you 
were useless.

"Well, I'm wanting to do some electrical work on the house where 
I'm living. You know, the wiring is close to 60 years old. Modern 
appliances have plugs that don't fit sockets. The front light should 
be changed to allow it to come on by detecting motion. Just a 
number of things like that."

"Sounds to me that you have a handle on it."

"Not really, I know what isn't right. I don't know how to make it 
right. So," John paused, "I was wondering if you could give me 
advice and watch over me. Make sure that I don't make any major 
mistakes that could burn down the house."

Jim sat back and stroked his chin for a minute, "I guess you know I 
was a licensed electrician at one time."

"You know, I do recall you telling me that fact once upon a time."

"Sure, John. I'll do it for you. You help everyone around here all of 
the time. I suppose a little turn about is fair play."

"I can offer you $10 an hour cash. It'll add a little something to 
your pension. Might be able to take some girl out for an early 
dinner and a movie."

Mr. Jensen laughed, "Dinner and a movie? Young man, I take my 
women to the submarine races."

"What are those?"

"Well, it is a very special kind of date. You drive her up to a quiet 
place along a river and tell her you are there for the submarine 
races. Since submarines race under water, there isn't much to see. 
So that leaves lots of time for other things, if you know what I 
mean."

"So I take it you're still active?"

Mr. Jensen laughed, "Ever hear of Viagra, boy?"

"So you get many dates?"

"Nah, old women turn into a bunch of prudes. You'd think they 
were all virgins by the way they act."

John smiled as he thought about his landlord. She definitely wasn't 
a prude. He asked, "So you'll help me?"

"Sure thing and don't worry about the money. Having something to 
do is reward enough."

"If you say so. Can you come by the house tomorrow around 11?"

"Sure," replied Mr. Jensen.

John gave him the address and reconfirmed the time. He turned 
towards home walking in a happy manner. Finally, he would be 
able to plug in his computer and have the front porch light turn 
itself on when he got home late at night. Those were reasons 
enough to have Mr. Jensen help him.

Returning to the house, he told Mrs. South that he had asked a man 
to help him do some work around the house. He gave her the time 
Mr. Jensen would arrive. He stated that he would be returning from 
the university in time to meet him there.

The next morning, John sat in his office watching the clock. A few 
minutes before eleven, he called Mrs. South and told her he would 
be arriving a little late. He asked if she could take care of Mr. 
Jensen until he arrived. He waited another fifteen minutes and then 
headed home.

He entered the house to find Mrs. South, Betsy, and Mr. Jensen 
having coffee at the table. He poured a cup of coffee and joined 
them. The conversation turned to the work that John wanted to do 
around the house. Mrs. South made a couple of other suggestions, 
including adding a dimmer switch to the lights in the living room. 
She made a remark about wanting to be able to set a more romantic 
environment. Betsy seconded the remark.

John and Mr. Jensen went around the house examining all of the 
outlets and coming up with a list of parts to purchase. John asked 
Mr. Jensen if he would come back Saturday and help him do the 
installation. Mr. Jensen readily agreed. 

John and Betsy left the house together. John dropped her off at the 
blood bank before heading back to his lab to finish his work there. 
He felt pleased with himself for introducing Mr. Jensen and Mrs. 
South. Even Betsy didn't know what he had planned. He even had 
left them alone without it looking obvious.

Saturday morning, John was in the hospital burn unit reading 
stories to the children. There was a new girl in the unit this week 
and she was having a miserable time. Her name was Mary and she 
was sixteen years of age. John was very familiar with her case, as 
he was the one who had rescued her from the fire. He entered her 
room after reading to the younger kids and addressed her, "Hello 
Mary."

"Am I supposed to thank you for saving me?" spat out Mary in 
anger. She could see that she had lost her beauty. The burn had 
ravaged her face.

"No, you aren't," replied John in a manner that was completely 
unperturbed by her anger. He could see the pain in her and 
recognized it for what it was. She now believed that she was an 
ugly woman. 

His answer and manner surprised her. She queried, "Huh?"

"You asked me if you were supposed to thank me for saving you. I 
said that you weren't." He smiled at her.

"You don't expect to be thanked?" she asked. She had rehearsed 
this scene a thousand times in her head and it wasn't playing out as 
she had intended.

"I don't expect it. In fact, I don't deserve it."

"Why? You saved my life!"

"Did I?"

"I'm still alive!"

John smiled, "Good, I had my doubts."

"I don't understand you," Mary blurted. She was totally off balance 
by this entire conversation.

"I am sorry. Let's try starting this conversation over again," 
answered John. He smiled and nodded his head, "Hello Mary."

Much less argumentative this time, she replied, "Hello John."

"Are you feeling better today than yesterday?"

"I guess," replied Mary rather guardedly. She was trying to figure 
out what he was attempting to achieve with this visit.

"Good, I remember when I was in here. Every day was a little 
better than the one before. Of course, sometimes you have a little 
negative progress. I guess that's to be expected though."

"You were in here before?" She hadn't realized that he was once a 
patient here and probably understood her situation better than she. 
It was even more remarkable that he would run into a fire to rescue 
her if he had already experienced what it was like to be burned.

"Oh yeah, I was a patient. Didn't stay long, but I like to come back 
and read stories to the kids every Saturday when I'm in town."

"You're that John?" She had heard about John from the other kids, 
but had not recognized that the John adored by the kids here was 
the same John that had saved her from the fire. 

"I guess I'm that John."

"Why did you come to see me?"

"Nurse Betty said that you were feeling down. So I came by to see 
why."

Mary looked away for several minutes. When she looked back, 
there were tears running down her cheeks. In a very small voice, 
she stated, "I'm ugly now."

"Do you think the kids in that other room are monsters?"

"Not really. They are all great kids. Every one of them has been by 
here to cheer me up."

"So why are you harder on yourself than on them?" He looked at 
her for a minute and then added, "Don't answer that now. Think 
about it and tell me your answer the next time I'm here."

"I will."

"Goodbye Mary, I'll see you next Saturday."

"Goodbye."

There was no need for John and Mary to ever talk about that 
subject again. She would come to understand that she wouldn't 
have the great looks of some women. She would also discover that 
things weren't impossible for a real life afterwards. She would soon 
meet other girls her age that had been through the burn unit in the 
past. 

John arrived home much later than he had told Mr. Jensen that he 
would be there. It wasn't a problem, as Mr. Jensen and Mrs. South 
had become quite friendly. John found them in the kitchen 
drinking coffee and talking. He poured himself a cup and sat down 
at the table. He stated, "Please excuse my tardiness. I was hung up 
at the hospital. Poor Mary is feeling quite ugly and unloved."

Mr. Jensen, unaware of the history, asked, "Why?"

"Forgive me. I rescued Mary from a fire earlier this week. She was 
quite badly burned. She is sixteen and that is an age where beauty 
is more important than life. I go to the hospital every Saturday and 
read to the kids in the burn unit. The nurse on duty told me that 
Mary was very upset, so I went in to talk to her."

Mr. Jensen stated, "That's very nice of you to do those kinds of 
things. I was telling this pretty lady that you are a good young 
man. I guess I didn't even know half of it."

Mrs. South added, "Do you know that many people call you 
Hero?"

John shook his head, "I know and I've tried to stop it, but they 
continue to do it anyway. It's quite disgraceful really. So many 
people are heroes, yet no one notices it. If I'm there, everyone goes 
wow look at what he did!"

Mr. Jensen winked at Mrs. South, "Well, Vicky and I were 
discussing all of your activities. You're quite a busy young man, 
you know. So we decided that I would do the electrical repairs 
around the house and give you a chance to visit your girlfriend."

"Mr. Jensen, there's no need for you to do all of that work. I just 
need you to show me what I'm supposed to do."

Mr. Jensen laughed, "Boy, you thought you had us fooled. I know 
you're fully capable of doing the work yourself. Hell, you probably 
know more about electronics than anyone I've ever met. I saw all 
your books on the subject the other day when we checking out the 
outlets."

John looked around the table at the smiling faces of Mr. Jensen and 
Mrs. South. He knew that he had been caught, "Well, I guess I do 
know a little about the subject."

Mrs. Smith interjected, "Besides, Betsy told us that you knew how 
to wire up a house. She's seen you working in your lab."

"Oh, she said that?"

Mr. Jensen laughed, "Yeah, right about the time we all figured you 
were trying to set us up."

"Oh, and I was so proud of myself for being subtle."

"It was pretty smooth."

"I hope you're not made at me."

Mrs. South laughed, "We figured that if you went to that much 
trouble, you had to have a reason. It took us a while to figure out 
why."

Mr. Jensen laughed, "Yeah, I wasn't about to admit that it was 
because I was a horny old goat."

"Or that I was a randy slut looking to get laid."

"I wouldn't have put it that way. I just felt you both were still 
interested in many of the same things," answered John. He was 
rather embarrassed because that reflected his thinking at the time 
accurately.

"Oh, like what?"

John desperately tried to think of something. The only thing that 
came to mind quickly was sex, but they had to have more in 
common than that. He blurted out, "Gardening!"

"I hate gardening."

"Same here."

"But you both do it all of the time."

Mr. Jensen laughed, "Hey, if you are old and your garden looks 
nice, no one figures you're actually a pervert!"The discussion was 
interrupted by the arrival of Betsy. She looked exceptionally nice 
that morning. She was wearing a forest green dress that set off her 
green eyes and complemented her brown hair. The dress was low 
cut and if she bent over, she flashed a very nice view of her breasts 
-- breasts that were unhindered by a bra. The dress came down to 
just above the knee. Her legs had the sheen suggesting they were 
encased in real silk stockings. She wore green high heals that 
showed her legs to best advantage, not too high so that she couldn't 
walk yet high enough to shape her calves.  She looked stunning. 
John took one look and exclaimed, "Wow!"

"You like?"

"I love!" His cock reacted to the sight she presented as she leaned 
over the table to look in his eyes.

"Well, I heard that you had an unexpected afternoon off. I came by 
to see if there was anything that I could do to fill it."

John smiled, "Are you willing to stand there all day so that I can 
stare at you?"

She swayed a little which caused her breasts to rub against the 
material of the dress. The action caused her nipples to get even 
more erect. She retorted, "Oh, you might want to watch me in 
action!"

"Are you suggesting that I might get to participate?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

Mrs. South interrupted the easy banter, "Would you two get out of 
here? I've got some needs that require attention right now!"

Betsy leaned whispered into Mrs. South's ear, "I'll take him in the 
bedroom. I don't want to go outside."

Mrs. South frowned and whispered back, "Why?"

"You know, he tends to get involved in big troubles. Do you know 
how many dates we've had ruined by him rescuing someone and 
then having to talk to the police for an hour afterwards?"

Mrs. South smiled as she thought back to some of the events she 
had seen with John Carter. She knew that he would get into 
something if he left the house. He usually did. She turned to Mr. 
Jensen, "Hey, did you say something about submarine races being 
held today?"

Betsy looked surprised, "Submarine races?"

Mr. Jensen smiled, "Yes, we can probably get there before they 
start!"

Betsy thought about it for a moment and then stated to John, 
"Maybe we can watch the submarine races. I didn't even know they 
had them!"

John laughed, "I tell you what, we'll go to lunch and then a 
matinee. We'll come home and watch the races on television."

Betsy thought about it and decided that the chances were slim that 
something would happen. Reluctantly she agreed, "Okay, that 
sounds good. Maybe we'll see you two on television!"

Mrs. South laughed, "I really doubt it dear, I really doubt it."

John and Betsy left the house. It was a beautiful day. The sun was 
shining, the air was warm, and the birds were singing. A contrail 
from a jet painted a white line across the blue sky. They decided to 
walk to Momma Mia's Italian Restaurant. It was less than five 
minutes from the house. 

Betsy appeared not to notice how nice the day was. As she walked, 
her eyes darted back and forth as if she expected a fire, shootout, 
or earthquake. John noticed the tension in Betsy and recognized 
the reason for her high level of stress. He was going to say 
something to her. However, he realized nothing he said would 
help. All that he could hope for was the chance that nothing would 
happen.

They arrived at the restaurant without a traumatic event occurring. 
The transition from the bright outdoors to the darkness within the 
restaurant required a moment for their eyes to adjust. The owner, 
well practiced at making people feel at ease, waited until their eyes 
could see before greeting them with great affection. He knew the 
pair very well and expected one day that John would make his 
proposal to Betsy in his restaurant. He led them to their special 
table in the back corner. It was quiet, dark, and secluded there. 

John helped Betsy into her seat and then slid into his. John looked 
around the table and spotted the candelabra. He commented, "Ah, 
something new?"

The owner smiled and nodded, "You are not the only ones that 
come here seeking a little romantic meal. However, romance needs 
privacy, as it is most intimate. Therefore, we have added a 
candelabra and a privacy curtain."

Betsy made a fanning motion with the menu as if she were hot. 
Talking as if she were a southern belle, she cooed, "I'm afraid that 
man will want to take liberties with me if you close the curtain."

"Close it now, so I can paddle her behind." 

"Is that a promise?"

"Sure!"

The owner laughed, "So will it be your regular meals for lunch?"

"Sure."

"Of course."

"I shall return soon, my little lovers."

Betsy and John watched him walk off with a smile. She reached 
over and took his hand. She pulled it onto her thigh, so he could 
feel the garters there. His cock immediately twitched. He traced the 
garter up and down her thigh. She smiled at the look on his face. 
She leaned over and whispered, "I'm not wearing any panties."

Her statement had the desired effect. John adjusted his pants to 
allow his cock the freedom to get erect without causing further 
pain. He hated it when his cock got caught in the leg of his boxers. 
It embarrassed him when he had to adjust himself like that in 
public. He often felt that nature was unfair in how obvious it made 
the arousal of a man.

Betsy smiled, "Don't you hate it when your cock gets stuck in the 
down position when it wants to be in the up position?"

"You witch! Casting a horrible spell upon me when all I want to do 
is feed you."

"Feed me? Don't you mean all you want to do is feel me?"

"Now I do!" 

She laughed while he groaned. The owner made his way to the 
table with their lunches. He overheard the laugh and the groan. He 
stated, "Either it was a very bad joke or someone is frustrated!"

John answered with a twinkle in his eye, "It was a bad joke that has 
left me frustrated!"

"Ah, the best kind." He set the plates in front of them. The two 
looked at their meals and smiled at the fantastic food. The aroma 
of the food teased their nostrils. He always had the chicken 
parmesan and she always ate the stuffed shells. The food was 
always excellent. 

John looked up at the owner and stated, "It looks wonderful as 
always."

The owner took out a wine bottle and presented it to the couple. He 
stated, "I have gone to extreme lengths to find the perfect 
accompaniment for your meal. I have a great sparkling grape juice. 
No alcohol!"

John smiled, "You are too much!"

The owner smiled as he opened the bottle. It made a nice little pop. 
He poured two glasses and stated, "This bottle is on the house!"

They raised their glasses in a toast. John said, "To love."

They took a sip, surprised at the taste. It was unlike any grape juice 
they had ever tasted. John stated, "Wow, this is amazing! Very 
good."

The owner smiled, "I special ordered it. I wanted something for 
those of you who avoid alcohol and ruin a perfect meal like this 
with iced tea!" 

John stated, "You have succeeded wonderfully."

The owner lit the candles on the candelabra. They cast a flickering 
pool of light on the table.  He stepped back and closed the curtains 
saying, "Just open the curtains when you need something and I'll 
return. Until then, enjoy your food and privacy."

As the owner walked away, they could hear him mutter, "I hope 
that he proposes to her. You can tell that they love each other very 
much."

John and Betsy looked at each other. The candlelight on her green 
eyes made them glow. John could see tears forming in the corners 
of her eyes. She sniffed and sadly stated, "Don't ask me now. I'd 
have to say no."

John looked at her with concern. He didn't truly understand how 
she could love him and yet not want to marry him. He knew that 
his frequent brushes with significant harm bothered her. Rather 
than confront her, he comforted her, "I understand, my dear. Let's 
eat this wonderful meal."She smiled appreciatively. They ate in 
relative silence. John's hand frequently returned to her thigh to run 
up and down it, tracing the outline of the garter. It was having the 
desired effect on Betsy. Her nipples started to tent the front of her 
dress.  His actions were also having an effect on him. His cock was 
straining against his tight pants. 

It took some time, but they finished their meal. They sat together, 
each touching the other with the intent to increase the passions of 
the other. John's hand continued to trace the garter. Each time his 
hand moved up the thigh, he pushed the bottom of her dress 
upwards. Her beautiful legs were slowly being exposed. Finally, 
the hem of her dress rose above the top of her stockings. John 
traced the top of the stockings with a single finger. His hand 
slowly moved back and forth along her inner thigh. She parted her 
legs to make it easier for him to touch her.

Betsy's hand was busy slowly tracing the outline of his cock. His 
cock was quite rigid and throbbed under the teasing touch. He 
wanted his cock freed to where it could be touched more directly. 

Betsy, smiling knowingly, reached under her skirt with her other 
hand. She ran a finger over her cunt coating it with her feminine 
juices. She took the same finger and ran it lightly over John's lips. 
As he caught her scent, he almost came from the excitement. 

He growled, "Let's pay and get back to the house."

She cooed back, "What's your hurry?"

He leaned back and then answered in a deep commanding voice, "I 
want to get down between your legs and lick you until you are 
drenched. I want to touch, kiss, and lick your nipples until they 
swell to bursting. I want to take you to levels of ecstasy never 
before obtained by a woman."

She giggled, "You better pay!"

John threw back the curtain as Betsy arranged her dress into a 
more respectable position. The owner showed up immediately, 
"May I help you?"

John croaked out as Betsy's hand returned to his crotch, "The bill 
please!"

The owner handed the bill over directly. He had it prepared in 
advance, anticipating the request. John pulled out his wallet and 
paid the balance with a nice twenty-five percent tip.  The owner 
stepped away from the table as John and Betsy stood up almost 
simultaneously. John grabbed Betsy by the hand as they hurried 
out of the restaurant. The owner smiled as he watched them leave. 
The smile hid his disappointment that John had not proposed to 
Betsy.

They reached the house in record time. Both were in a state of 
sexual excitement. Betsy had taken the opportunity to flash her 
bare bottom at John on several occasions. She couldn't believe the 
thrill that raced through her at the public exposure. John couldn't 
believe his fortune in having such a sexy young woman interested 
in him. 

They threw open the door and launched themselves into the house. 
John had his hands around Betsy's waist and was trying to pull her 
back into him so that she could feel his excitement. They both 
suddenly stopped as they looked at a naked Mrs. South on her 
knees giving an equally naked Mr. Jensen a blowjob. The older 
pair barely acknowledged the presence of the younger pair. Betsy 
grabbed John's hand and stated, "Way to go girl!"

The younger pair raced down the hallway to enjoy their afternoon 
together. They shed their clothes, dropping items as they moved 
down the hall. John was naked as the door to his room shut behind 
him. Betsy was wearing stockings and a garter belt. The sexual 
teasing over lunch and on the walk home had the desired effect on 
both of them. It wasn't long before they were busy pleasuring each 
other.
<1st attachment end>


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