blond hair, his mischievous blue eyes, and the most beautiful set of toes she had seen yet. It was perhaps wiser to get up, get something to eat, turn on the TV, and make thoughts of Jim Craft wait until tomorrow!
CHAPTER TWO
Jim Craft caught up with Tommy Speigle right after school. 'Hey, you didn't tell me about the shoes!' he cried.
'What are you talking about,' Tommy answered. 'Of course I told you about the shoes. You just weren't listening. You had your mind on what was going to happen!'
Jim chuckled with some embarrassment. 'Nawww, you told me I'd have to shine them, but you didn't tell me she uses them as ornaments! God, she is really nuts!'
'You won't care whether she's nuts or not, I tell you!'
'I believe you,' he said. 'She's got a body like I never seen in Playboy or any place!' His brow puckered in a frown. 'But I didn't know she was crazy or something, Tommy. God, shoes for ornaments!'
'That ain't crazy, Jim. Christ, I got an aunt who collects mustache cups, and they're just awful to look at, but she's got them stuck everywhere in the house. I mean everywhere! Geez, and she's real nice, too. It's just that some people like wacky things, that's all.'
'Especially grown ups,' Jim agreed suddenly. 'Well, anyway, how long did you say it takes her to get around to doing anything?'
'Oh, a couple of weeks, at least. I think she's afraid to scare the kids off, you know?'
'Oh, hell, I don't want to wait no couple of weeks!' Jim said rather truculently for such an angelic looking boy.
'So, do something about it then, if you got the guts,' Tommy prodded. Tommy's parents had grown uneasy about the time he had spent working for Rebekah Howell, and had decided they didn't want him at her house any more. He was going to have to rely on second hand stories for his kicks for a while. He would be just as happy to have Jim get started so there would be something to talk about with him. Tommy was not the jealous type.
'I've been thinking about what I'd do if the waiting got too long,' he said. 'I got plans.'
'Why wait at all then?' Tommy asked.
'I didn't say I was going to. I just got to see how things go. You got to be careful about these things.'
'How do you know, Jimmy,' Tommy chided. 'I thought you was a virgin.'
'What does that have to do with it? I guess you got to be just as careful when you're a virgin as when you ain't!'
'Yeah. Skip it,' Tommy said. Jim Craft always left him with a befuddled head. 'Let me know what happens, though, huh?' he asked with a broad grin. 'Christ, I wish I was you!' He was good-natured about the loss… in public. Actually, he had cried himself to sleep last night.
'Yeah, when I see you. I got to go now, Tom,' Jim reminded his friend.
So while Tommy Speigle went miserably on his way to his own home, Jim Craft started out for Rebekah Howell's house, wondering if he would be pushing things if he did what he would like to do. Still, if his new employer had in mind what she seemed to have in mind, her own impatience might be counted upon. It was a sunny day, but just a bit cold, and Jim stuffed his hands into his trousers pockets to keep them warm as he made his way diagonally across the green lawn of the school toward her street. The noisy chatter of the other students who filled the grounds was only a dull din at the back of his mind. He found himself hurrying faster and faster. He tried to fix Tommy's reassuring grin firmly in his mind. He was sure that there was no reason to doubt Tommy. He knew that Tommy had done the things he had said with Miss Howell. He could see the truth in his face, and Tommy had never been the kind to lie anyway.
When Jim reached Miss Howell's house, he went right in the back door as he had been told to do. The shoes and boots were in the corner where they had been put the evening before. Probably he was expected to just start working on them so that he could move on later to other things, but he could not help wondering where Miss Howell was. He was tempted to look for her. It was an excellent excuse to roam the house, and the more he thought about it, the more the temptation grew until it was so strong, it was undeniable. He sneaked out of the kitchen into the hall and finally, without looking too hard into any other room, he slipped up the stairs. Was she in her bedroom? Maybe she was waiting for him there! But no, that was hardly likely. She might be there, but he doubted that she would try to start on him too soon.
It took opening a couple of doors, one into a room with an unmade bed and the other into a bathroom, before he found her room. She was not there! She must have gone to the store or something, he thought, and suddenly, the situation just seemed inevitable. Of course, he would now have the time to give himself a hard-on, just like he sometimes did in his own bed at night. It was the only way he knew to tempt her. He hadn't enough experience to know of any other way. In fact, he had no experience at all. But he got up onto her bed, propped two pillows up against the pretty wood bedstead, and reclined back against them in a half-sitting position, his legs extended straight out before him.
Yet he hesitated. It was one thing to reason out a plan and dream about it but another matter altogether to carry it out. It took every ounce of courage the youth could muster to get up the nerve to reach down and unzip his trousers. With a trembling hand, he removed his small limp prick from his fly and stared down at it shamefully for a moment. Then he noticed with horror that he still had on his shoes! Tommy had warned him and Miss Howell had told him, too, that she never allowed shoes in her house. It was zany, if you asked him, but he didn't want to get her angry, not this afternoon! He wanted to arouse her emotions, but not anger! He looked at the little clock beside the bed. How long would it take for her to look for him, for surely she would look. He slowly began then to stroke the limp and flaccid flesh of his soft little cock!
Under ordinary circumstances, Jim never had any problem achieving an erection. In fact, it seemed that for the last few months he spent most of his waking hours with a hard-on. That's why when Tommy Speigle told him not only about the job he was losing but about the sort of thing he did for his pay, Jim had immediately applied for work. It was exactly what he needed. For though he knew masturbation was a sin and that it could cause pimples and lack of hearing among other unpleasant side effects, the practice had become almost a habit, unavoidably, it seemed. It was such a habit, that he thought it would be no trouble at all to try it here. But jacking off in the bathroom or alone in his own room at home was one thing. Doing it here in a relatively strange woman's house where she would, hopefully, find him at it, was something entirely different. In his present nervous state, he wasn't even certain he could even get an erection.
Oh, he meant to take off his shoes! He was so nervous, he had noticed them and then forgot about it. Quickly he reached down and pulled at the laces of both shoes at once, then slid them off his heels and onto the floor. He wondered if he should take off his socks. Yesterday she had him do that so he had been extra careful about getting his feet clean this morning and wearing clean socks. Well, he didn't know any specific rule about removing the socks, too. He had better leave them on. If she wanted them off, she could tell him about it.
Little Jim Craft must have then continued to stroke and fondle his limp prick for a good two minutes before it finally did begin to respond. He tried to force the awareness of his motivation out of his mind and concentrate totally on the way he had felt the other night with the big picture from Playboy magazine spread on his pillows while he lay naked as though between the sexy woman's widely parted thighs, her soft-looking haired, tender cunt completely exposed to his avid gaze, the nub end of his rigidly lewd cock stroking right up against the picture of the pink, glistening slit. At last it began to work. He felt a little twitch, and the flaccid flesh gradually transformed, the limp maleness slowly growing until it loomed up into fully throbbing rigidity.
Jim let his mind wander freely now. He conjured up a vision of that redheaded playgirl lying naked beneath him on the soft bed, her beautiful arms crossed above her head to arch and define her ripely formed mountainous tits. He had kissed one of the nipples in the picture and he recalled it now. They said the perforated pink flesh would swell to its own hardness between a man's lips. It sure sounded like heaven. The young preteen could almost smell her womanly body. It smelled like his mother, of course. He had been at it so long though, that he was getting very good at imagining the feel of a woman's warm thighs clamped tightly against his hips as though he was on the verge of entering her. Oh, God, how he longed for the actual experience of sexual intercourse. He sure hoped what he was doing now would work, because he knew instinctively, in spite of what he hesitated to
