Chapter 2

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 believe when the guys talked about it, that nothing would compare! Sometimes, though, it seemed as though it would never happen, not to him, not ever.

Jim Craft had almost forgotten the reason for his masturbation when he heard the faint footsteps up the stairway getting louder and louder. He stiffened, a rush of adrenaline causing him to almost lose his breath and stared down in virtual disbelief at the sight of his rigidly throbbing, blood-engorged prick thrust up in fully pulsing erection between the fingers that were now swiftly manipulating the flesh up and down off the rubbery head. A little droplet of seminal fluid had leaked out the glans at the tip and glistened obscenely, and as he slackened the movements of his fingers, he felt an annoying stab of frustration in his testicles and realized almost incredulously that, if Miss Howell were not arriving within a few seconds, he would have forgotten all about her and gone ahead and shot off.

But that was not his purpose for being up here, he reminded himself firmly, and Jim knew that if he did not act now, he would lose his nerve completely. He had stopped nervously, but now he returned his hand to the rigidly swollen shaft of his blood- swollen cock and began to stroke up and down in even swifter, more frenzied movements. He closed his eyes, forcing himself in spite of all his fear to concentrate on the lewdly titillating memory of the redhead's naked but only paper pussy, persisting even as he heard Miss Howell's hand on the knob of the door. Though her feet were bare, he had been able to hear her on the stairs because they were not carpeted and bore her shifting weight with thuds and squeaks.

The handsome little blond twelve year old was grunting and groaning as if completely engulfed in his lust, his hand still working rapidly up and down along the hard throbbing shaft of his lewdly bloated cock when the door was opened, and he heard his pretty dark-haired employer's shocked gasp.

I here was a long moment, a horrendous and uncertain moment of terrifying silence, but the boy was holding his trace straight. Rebekah could not believe her eyes at first. Her next reaction was to try to think. Now she was not even breathing, and the sound of the feverish workings of Jim Craft's hand had stopped as had his own sensual groans. The young twelve year old's face was now blank and white, his eyes finally staring back at her in horror. She didn't speak. She couldn't move. Had he expected her to find him? She couldn't take her eyes off the little stockinged feet, standing up in lewdly erected suggestion just like the exposed and bulbous cock. But, regardless, it was much too soon! He had very likely expected to get away with it before she came. The motionless woman could see that Jim was every bit as stunned as she was. He looked almost as devastated as he had when she had asked him to remove his socks yesterday. She could not help drawing a parallel unconsciously between that moment and this. What would he do, how would he react, she wondered, if she slowly slipped off his socks now? Then somehow she managed to wrench her eyes away from his enthralling feet, resisting the temptation to touch them, and riveted her gaze on the nakedly exposed prick that stood up hard and solid over his open fly. Finally, her lips quivering as she tried to find the words she should speak over the din in her mind of the words she wanted to speak.

"Jim. Jimmy, I don't understand," she said in a cracked voice. "I... I thought you came to... to work," she added lamely.

Except for his tongue, which flicked quickly from his mouth to moisten his lips, which were suddenly dry, the frightened blond boy remained completely motionless for a moment longer. Now he had never felt so stupid or ashamed in his whole life. This was worse than any of his old nightmares because for one thing, he knew he was not going to wake up. When he was having a nightmare he was always able sooner or later to wake himself up, but what do you do with reality? Oh, God, what if Tommy had tricked him, he thought frantically. How horribly embarrassing to have such a beautiful woman see him beating his meat and very likely believing he was some kind of sex pervert!

"Jim. Please, tell me..." she tried again.

"I... I couldn't help it," he nearly cried weakly, casting his blue eyes downward. Unconsciously he stiffened, and the motion caused his still fully erect cock to jerk lewdly with an enticing springing motion. As it did so, he heard the brunette woman gasp, which only further intensified his shame. His veined prick was still erect, and for some reason, it wouldn't go down. Jim was so frightened now that he couldn't even bring himself to put it back in his trousers.

"But... but, Jim, why did you have to come... come here to do th... that?"

Jim bit his lips. "I... I don't know what to say, M... Miss Howell." The twelve year old looked sheepishly back at his pretty employer, his eyes unconsciously drifting down the length of her shapely body. She was really a good looking woman. Her tits could not be quite as large as that redhead's in the magazine, but who would want real ones that big anyway? Miss Howell's looked plenty big enough, if you asked him! They were sure perfectly proportioned. Her waist was slender, her stomach flat. Her hips flared out in perfectly inviting half-moons, and her thighs were long, teasingly outlined in the firmly clinging material of her jersey dress.

Then the boy looked back at her face, strained with shock, as he interpreted her expression, and shook his head. He felt dizzy, as if the bed were floating beneath him, as though he were on a cloud, which was not only waving the bed around but passing right through his brain. He felt almost non-existent, and then, to his astonishment, the words he had self-consciously thought of the minute he had conceived of this wild action in which he was now irretrievably involved, began to flow smoothly from his lips.

"I... I didn't know what else to do because I was so desperate, you see. There's this girl, and everyone in school knows she's a coc... an awful tease. I mean she... Well, I ran into her on the way and... and I got kind of horny."

Rebekah felt a lump rise in her throat. She could not help but recall that she had committed the same obscene act of self- abuse, realizing that for her, a mature woman, that act was much more perverse and inexcusable than it was for a boy of Jim's age. In fact, masturbation for a boy of Jim Craft's age was even natural. She knew that well enough, but whether it was the act of his doing it or the waste of his not doing it to her, whatever the secret subconscious reasons, she still could not rationalize the fact in her mind. There was something about the sight of his nakedly exposed young prick sticking so rigidly from the fly of his trousers under his own fingers that was lewd and shocking. And this was a funny thing, too, because often her boys played with themselves while she satisfied her own desires, and it wasn't lewd and shocking then, only compelling! why was that so? Right now, though she could hardly control her excitement, she just couldn't imagine the handsome little blond boy doing such a thing. But at the same time she couldn't escape the realization that if he would do this, then he was riper for plucking than she thought.

"A cock tease, huh?" she mumbled in a low voice, finding that once again her eyes were sliding from the still obscenely exposed erection of Jim's cock to the stiffened, slightly spread toes of his feet beneath his socks.

"Well, uh, yeah," he said, stunned that she used the word he had avoided.

"That will do it," she said suddenly.

"It sure will," the boy hastened to agree. "You know, it was so bad, I didn't think I'd even be able to get this far, honest. I was ashamed to walk down the street. I ran all the way!"

"Ran?"

"Well, I had a hard-on and it was showing, you know."

Jim noticed with the faintest twinge of satisfaction the crimson flush that crept over the gorgeous brunette's face as he made that remark, and he couldn't help but see that as he said it, she was once more diverted from staring at his toes to his still revealed, fully throbbing veined cock. Jim was cautious. He was still not quite sure of Tommy and his information. After all, it could be mere wishful thinking on his own part, the excitement he thought he could see on Miss Howell's face at the sight of his bloated cock. At the root of Jim's uncertainty was the fact that he couldn't imagine why a woman as good-looking and sophisticated as Miss Howell could be interested in a kid like himself or like Tommy. Tommy swore it was possible, but it still seemed too good to be true. Yet, once having committed himself like this, Jim knew that he might as well try his best in case there was the slightest possibility of his plan working. At this point, he hardly had anything to lose!

The youth wet his lips again and once more flexed the still fully erect shaft of his lewdly swollen cock, again causing it to jerk upward in a springing motion. This time Rebekah Howell visibly winced even though her eyes seemed more on his feet than on his cock. She was probably watching out of the corner of her eye, he decided. He could see that she looked up at the door suddenly with a great amount of effort.

"I don't know what the other guys do. Well, I guess I do know to be honest." He faltered rather purposefully. "I guess I'm the only guy in my class who hasn't had a piece of... hasn't... uh... had sex." He paused, casting his eyes forlornly downward. "I bet I never will, either!"

"Oh, that's not true, Jim," Rebekah said almost too quickly, watching him to see if he knew anything. Maybe she had better skip a few boys for awhile, if she had the will power. But possibly the word was getting around at last. "Someday, when you're grown up, I'm sure you will have a wife and everything."

"But that's so long away," Jim wailed. "I can't even imagine being grown up. And I don't know of any guy who waits that long!"

"Well, of course you don't want to wait," Rebekah said carefully. "That's because of your age. As far as you can see, tomorrow is never going to come! But that doesn't mean you can't wait!" Rebekah wondered where she ever got such ideas herself!

"Why should l?"

"Because..." Rebekah's voice trailed off. Her head was spinning, and she couldn't even think of a logical answer to that question right now. She couldn't think of anything. Everything was a jumble in her mind, and she couldn't keep her eyes from darting first to his wonderful little feet and then to the virile young blood-engorged prick. It would sure help if he would put that back into his trousers.

"And now it's even worse," the boy said dolefully.

"What is worse?"

"I'm even hornier than I was before. I thought I could come in here and get rid of it before I had to start work, and I almost did when you came in and stopped me. Now it's even worse. I don't know how I'll be able to work!"

Rebekah caught her breath at the obscene thought that flashed through her mind. Oh, God, it was too soon! But it was just too, too lurid to keep to herself and she knew she had to say it. In spite of her emotional revulsion at the mere suggestion that he do such a thing all by himself, she knew it would be the voice of logic and maturity speaking. "All right, Jim, you go ahead and do it, and I'll go downstairs and wait until you're ready to come to work." God, she was in agony. How fortunate my erection doesn't show, she thought!

"But I can't do that," Jim said, staring down at the floor and shaking his head solemnly. "I just can't do it. You must know that getting caught doing this is the most embarrassing thing that can happen to a guy, and I just can't go on with it now that you know I'm doing it. I guess you'll lose all your respect for me. I... I guess you'll fire me!"

"Oh, no, I don't think so, Jim," Rebekah said. "I think I understand this sort of thing all right. I was just a little surprised when I first saw

you."

"Well, I don't care," said Jim, making his lip tremble sweetly. "I just can't do it." Then he lifted his eyes slowly. He could feel his heart pounding furiously in his chest, and he was so scared he could hardly even speak. But he had to try. He had come this far. There was no reason to back out now. "Unless..."

Rebekah looked sharply, perhaps expectantly, back at the small blond boy, who was now watching her almost with a sheepish smile.

"Unless what, Jim?"

Jim swallowed hard. "Unless you help me."

Rebekah could hardly believe she had heard right. The words had been clear enough, but this was the first time that any boy had ever been this bold. Something was wrong. It had to be, or he just couldn't be serious. Surely, he wouldn't have the gall to ask her on his own!

"What do you mean, help you?" she asked.

"Well, I've heard some of the guys talking, and they say it feels a whole lot better if a girl does it for you. You know! Jacks you off. Then the other day, this girl touched me. I don't know if she did it on purpose or not, but her hand felt twice as good as mine when I touch myself."

Rebekah's mouth dropped open as the shocking truth of Jim's meaning crept into her consciousness. It was too marvelous to hope for, but was there too much risk in letting him get the upper hand, do the directing? She could tell from the look on his face that though he was embarrassed and afraid, he was still serious in his lewdly degrading suggestion. He wanted her to assist him in masturbating. Well, masturbating alone she didn't really go for. Maybe if she took off his socks... But what was she thinking of?

"I... I can't believe you want me to do that, Jim," she told him falteringly.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything bad about it, Miss Howell. I just wanted... well, it was selfish of me to ask you. But you know, everybody in school laughs at me for being a... a virgin!"

"How do they know?"

"They can tell, I guess. At least, I can't seem to convince them it isn't true. I figure there must be some secret thing I don't know about, and they can tell I don't know about it."

She started to go, saying over her shoulder as though she were speaking to herself, "I don't think it's wise!"

Jim's heart sank as he watched the voluptuous woman turn to leave. The plan had failed and maybe Tommy Speigle was a liar after all. He should have known it was crazy to even try.

Then to his surprise, Miss Howell hesitated and looked back.

"Jim, I'm sorry," she said. Rebekah had realized that she had slipped up. She hadn't told him it was wrong or that she wouldn't, but that it was not wise. After he thought about it, after he remembered that remark, he might get angry, and then, God knew what he would do or say and to whom! He would understand if she told him it was wrong. He would understand if she told him she didn't do such things. But wisdom? Didn't that imply a certain possibility? Didn't that imply that she would expect for some secret reason that she was not confiding in him? Well, it was true. She was not confiding her reason. But wasn't it dangerous to let him suffer when he didn't understand why he had to?

Meanwhile, Jim Craft caught his breath. He saw the beautiful brunette's green eyes descend again toward his loins and the still partially rigid shaft of his cock, and her strained expression convinced him he had to give it one last try.

"Then will you please help me? Please?"

It was utterly and completely insane to risk so much. She had to wait, to feel out the situation, to be absolutely sure that there would be no repercussions from any child she so used! It was a threatening situation to get into without thought. If it ever got out to a single parent that she was hiring her boys to frolic nakedly with them instead of to do the innocent chores they were supposed to be doing, what would happen? She didn't really care to find out. But why would a boy like Jim, wanting sex obviously, say anything to anyone and possibly lose it that way? How could she refuse him now and seduce him later? That might be far more dangerous, when she thought about it.

Yet she couldn't avoid suspecting that under all her attempts to think and her rationalizations, there seemed in her current confused state of consciousness, to be an even more compelling reason for her to do what Jim asked. In spite of everything else, she simply wanted to. She could hardly control her breathing or the furious pounding of her heart as she let her gaze wander back to the smooth little prick and the two delicate hills of toes standing up so rigidly, one between his thighs and the other two not far away, lower in the bed. She did want to touch him. She could imagine the resilient feel of countless extremities in her hand. She could imagine the little blond groaning in mingled embarrassment and ecstasy as she performed the manipulations that led him to the release that he must need just as badly as she needed her own a while ago, and if she wasn't careful, would need again too soon! She couldn't deny the forbidden thrill swelling in her own tits at the thought of caressing him. Perhaps if she could keep up the pretense that she was only doing him a favor. That might be a permissible compromise.

"Please, Miss Howell, I need your help. I really do need it!"

Rebekah sucked her breath in hoarsely, staring at the cute young boy through narrowed eyes. Oh, if you only knew why I hired you, she thought. She had never seen such a look of innocent and desperate pleading on anyone's face in her life, and her heart went out to him. He was really extraordinary... the best she had had ever. He was angelically handsome, mischievous of eye, and oh, so innocent and helpless! Was he playing a trick on her? Was he? Oh, God what did she care if he was?

"All right," she whispered. "Promise me, oh, promise me, Jim, that you'll never tell anyone!"

"I promise! Oh, yes, I promise. I'll never tell anyone!" the artful little boy cried.

Her breath coming in even more audible gasps, Rebekah walked over to the bed. She saw the look of hope that lit up on little Jim Craft's angelic face, and despite all of her own apprehension against rushing things quite this fast, she couldn't quell her warm response to that rewarding sight. She sat down on the edge of the bed, watching him with a sultry gaze that was quite unconscious. A soft whimper rose in her throat, and she reached toward the young blond boy's nakedly inviting little bloated prick, which had begun to surge again toward a renewed erection even before the initial touch.

"Oh, Miss Howell!" Jim gasped, his whole body twitching spontaneously as he felt the curvaceous brunette's fingers close warmly about the throbbing shaft of his blood-filled cock. "That feels... unbelievable!"

Rebekah smiled from within, from the memory of so many like exclamations from so many little virgin boys. She tried to hide the excitement she herself felt at finally touching the virilely pulsating little prick that had so unnaturally obsessed her, far more than usual, for the last couple of days, since Jim had first come to inquire about replacing Tommy Speigle.

The beautiful emerald-eyed recluse was in a state of mindless excitement as she began a rhythmic up and down stroking motion of her hand on the boy's slender rod of lust-hardened flesh. She was strongly tempted to reach down and take each of his socks off with her teeth while she worked on his cock and wondered if she would be able to restrain herself or if she would finally have to give in to that desire at some overwhelming point.

The feel of Jim's warm young prick, which had been gradually overpowering her ever since she first walked into the room and seen it there a couple of feet from his darling toes, was almost driving her out of her mind. Her body was responding beyond all her wishes, her flesh tingling with unwanted lust that surged up in her thighs despite all her attempts at self control. And the fact that for the first time, she was being seduced by one of her little gigolos added an emotional factor that only further intensified her physical arousal. She closed her eyes, a little moan of hunger rising in her throat, and she began to work her hand up and down even faster. She could feel the little boy's body jerking and shuddering beneath her salacious caresses, and she sensed it wouldn't be long until he reached the climax he had apparently been approaching even before she had come up to her bedroom a few moments ago.