3838 Walnut Street Pt. 01 - Sex Stories

3838 Walnut Street Pt. 01

All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older. Thanks for reading!

June 26, 1954: Apartment 4F, the Lavey family

"He says such terrible things, Harold. There's an evil spirit in him, I know it." Betsy walked quickly next to her husband down their Manhattan street. She wrung her hands together, chewing on her bottom lip. "We need to bring the priest in. Billy... tried to touch me while you were at work... yesterday." That made it sound like Billy had failed. In that sense, poor Betsy had just lied to her husband, accumulating her sins.

"The boy tried to touch you?" Harold eyed his lovely wife. My son tried to lay hands on his own mother. Betsy was a beautiful brunette who had drawn male attention for the twenty years of their marriage. Harold had always been jealous, but he had never thought he'd have a problem with the lad he'd once bounced on his knee. He thought over his options. "I will not have a priest in my house," Harold grumbled and dodged to avoid a milkman hustling the other way with his arms full of jingling bottles. "There's a better solution. Billy's eighteen, it's time we kicked him out of the apartment." Harold removed his hat and fanned his face with it. He glanced at his wife and could see she was in distress. He should have acted sooner. Billy had been behaving oddly ever since they'd moved into 3838 Walnut Street. And speak of the devil, they were home. Harold turned off the sidewalk into their building, giving the doorman a nod.

"I ...

... don't know, Harold. He's still just a teenager. I think he needs our support." Betsy hustled next to her husband through the small lobby. She shivered. The relief work on the walls showed strange pagan gods, goddesses, and devils. She never liked traversing the lobby. "If we bring in the priest, and it's a -"

"No priest," Harold growled. He could be quite formidable when he wanted to be. "Billy is out as of today. He tried to touch you, Betsy. He's lucky I'm not planning to whoop him." They entered the elevator, and he hit the button for four. The doors chimed and slowly closed.

"Okay, Harold." It tore Betsy up inside to put her own son out on the street. But maybe it was for the best. He had gotten her to do unspeakable things with his penis, and she couldn't have anyone, especially Harold, finding out. She looked down at the green, geometric pattern of the carpet as they rose up the building. The doors chimed and opened. She stepped out into the hall with her husband, her high heels hushed by the carpet out in the hall.

"I might just whoop him regardless. Trying to put a hand on you." Harold's voice had fallen so low, it was barely audible.

"Please don't. He's still our baby." She followed her husband to their door, listened to his key turn in the lock, and bit her knuckle with anxiety.

Billy had known his parents were coming home ever since he'd smelled his mother exit the elevator. With his heightened senses, he could practically smell her down on the street. ...