Chapter 1

As hard as it may be for some of you to believe, in the early 1950's, gasoline was cheap. I remember "gas wars" when competing stations would reduce their price per gallon to get business. Most of the price-cutting competition was in Dallas, 70 miles away from my little home town. Locally we were probably paying several cents per gallon more than the price in Dallas. I specifically remember that in 1964 while driving a company car, my associate showed me how to get extra blank receipts from stations and we wrote phony receipts, adding as much as 10 cents per gallon, once we encountered a gas war in Waco, we added 15 cents per gallon to the 11 cents we actually paid. We were driving cars with v-8 engines and usually running 7-800 miles per week, so the cheating on gasoline gave us a profit on our expense account of $ 4-5 per week. Remember we were receiving a salary of about $425.00 per month and an extra $15-20 from gas alone was noticeable. Added to that, we could usually double our actual meal cost, increasing our weekly cheating to as much as $20-25.00 per week, or about a non-taxed 25% increase in pay.

Now, having set the economic tone for those times let me go back to my high school years. My father was a railroader; he had discovered that his master's degree and teaching certificate did not provide enough income to support a family. He had signed on as a brakeman in freight service for the railroad. Our little town was a terminal with a round-house and shops to repair and maintain the rolling stock. He typically was out of town every other night. This may be what prompted him to do something very unusual; he went to the county seat and talked to a judge, getting a court order that allowed me to get my driver's license at age 14. I had to follow the regular course of events, but I started 2 years ahead of all my peers. Interestingly enough, no one else did that for their sons. By six months after my birthday, I had my own set of keys to the car. Yes, the car, if there was a family in town that had two cars, I don't remember them. Well, there were some kids who had their own cars, mostly junkers. One of my classmate's dad was a car dealer and James didn't have a car until he went away to college and then it was a six or seven year old trade-in. So I had an incredible amount of freedom and trust. My mother was a competent driver and never complained about driving places, but I took over all the driving when dad was out of town. I had moved up from throwing paper routes on my bicycle and had other part-time jobs. I saved my money and was looking at cars. But that is still after the time I want to tell you about.

It was a Sunday afternoon in 1955 and I had the car. I picked up two of my friends, Bobby and John in my dad's two tone blue Buick special. Driving around, we cruised downtown and stopped at the dairy queen for a coke. We were setting out front on benches when Janet and Annette walked up and started talking. Annette was in our grade, but Janet was a year ahead of us. One thing led to another and they got in the car with us and we started cruising, the Buick was a two door hard-top and a beautiful car with the split front seat mandatory for a two door car. Annette got in the back with Bobby and John and I had a fleeting thought that if someone else was driving I might be back there with Annette, she of the high round breasts and strong athletic legs. It was common practice to follow one of the farm to market highways out of town and we did, John wanting to look at the place called the sand pits. This was a large hole from which sand was dug and used for construction, etc. It had filled with water and some people used it to swim. Once there, we stopped and got out of the car to look around. As we started to get back in, Janet showed me her learners permit which allowed her to drive with a licensed driver in the front seat and asked if I would let her drive to get some practice. Janet was pretty. I liked Janet; she did not look down on people in grades below her. Janet smelled really good. As she showed me her permit, she leaned close and I saw her white strapless bra. Damn, she smelled good and she twirled around so that her wide skirt showed her thighs above the knees. I had no choice, if she had asked; I would have put her into the driver's seat and pushed the car nine miles back to town.

Hell yes I let her drive and in less than a half hour, I realized she was a very good and careful driver. That allowed me more time to concentrate on her body as she drove.

She wore the typical casual clothes that were in fashion for all the girls in our small town, a peasant blouse with a scooped elastic neckline and a broad skirt that would swirl widely as she turned around rapidly. The top could, if she felt daring could be pulled down so that her shoulders would be exposed, but Janet usually kept it up while driving. That suited me just fine, because as her arms turned the steering wheel, her neckline would fall open and I could see down her blouse, of course all I could see was her little white strapless bra, but that worked for me. She was talking about how much she liked to drive and telling how much she appreciated me letting her drive. Annette spoke up from the backseat, between Bobby and John and said, " ... you know he's just doing it so he can look down your blouse..." Janet blushed and I looked the other way, apparently before Janet looked at me, so when she turned her head to me, I was looking out the side window. I was hoping that would not change our situation.

We did it all again the next Sunday. I was sporting a semi erection which was concealed by my jeans. I had only had one date in my life, several months earlier, in the fall, I asked a girl to the Friday night sock hop in the gym. We lived just across the street from the gym and I walked ½ block north, three blocks west and ½ block south to her house. Even though I was driving, I didn't for the date. After the dance, I walked her home and we said good night and I thanked her. I was too shy to even think about a kiss. Nothing ever happened with her. After college, I wondered why I never pursued a relationship with her, god knows she made my hands itch to hold her tits, but by that time, she was going steady.

On Friday, I saw Janet in the hall. As I started to sit down in the library, I realized she was behind me. She asked if I was going to be out riding Sunday afternoon. She was gaining confidence and felt like being behind the wheel a few more times would have her ready to take the driving test. I wondered briefly if she was interested in the driving or me, but dismissed that idea. Back then, girls did not date down, i.e., boys in lower grades. That was the way to be practically ostracized by all your female class mates and incur the anger of younger girls who felt the older girl was poaching on their territory. It was perfectly acceptable to date a guy two or even three grades above you, although three grades was somewhat daring.

I told Janet that I would meet her earlier than usual so she could get more practice and suggested that I pick her up close to her home.

On Sunday I picked her up and let her drive for an hour and a half. I got back behind the wheel and dropped her block away from Annette's house. I picked up Bobby and John and we met the girls at the dairy queen, doing what we had already done several times. We drove out to the sand pits again and John wanted to walk around to the other side to look in, he had heard a rumor that there was car in the water and since we were in a dry spell, he thought the water might be down far enough to see it. Annette and Bobby wanted to go with him, I didn't want to walk in the sand, I was wearing rubber soled moccasins which would be full of sand in ten yards. Janet wanted to drive, so we agreed to come back for them in 30 minutes or so.

We left and when we go to the road leading back to the highway, Janet turned the other way driving deeper into the country. In a mile or so, we came to a turn out into a field and Janet pulled in, just off the road and stopped. She turned off the motor and leaned back against the door, facing me and said, "It is so pretty and quiet out here, I wish me as here with my guy over here kissing me in the sunlight." I was completely blown away; I really wished it was me she wanted and not knowing what to say or do, made some inane comment about how nice the day was. In a couple of minutes, Janet started the car and backed out onto the road. I pointed out that if we kept going, we would be back on the highway in ten minutes or so, putting us back at the sand pits right on time.

I was so lacking in self confidence that I never considered that Janet wanted to date me, or at least be with me.

Then came a major milestone in my life, my mother told me she had been talking to Dr. Hawkins who taught in the education department at the local state college. He planned to retire and move home to Houston and he needed someone to help him do some cleaning and painting to sell his house. Actually, it was a three car garage with an apartment above it. I found out later that the house on the lot had burned leaving the garage apartment untouched. The lot was large and showed no signs of there ever having been a house there. The professor told me that when he came to town, 11 years ago, he bought the place cheap; it had been rented to students for several years and was in need of repairs and redecorating. He had it remodeled, adding a second bath and many amenities not seen in many homes in town.

While cleaning a storage area in one of the unused garages, I discovered a sealed box of books. It was taped closed and covered with dust, it was clear that no one had looked at it in years. I opened it, reasoning that since he had asked to "clean" up" the room, I needed to know what was in the box. I found a treasure trove of books on female anatomy and physiology. There were books explaining women's physiological reactions to sexual advances and the physical manifestations of those reactions. There was a 310 page book devoted to the art of cunnilingus. I became a thief; the professor was almost 70 years old and admittedly absent minded. The box went to the trunk of the car and I hid it in a very secret place in the shed which had evolved from storage space to playhouse and had now become my private retreat. I had built in a bunk with storage under it with a false bottom. It was there I kept my stash of purloined playboy magazines. I had become quite adapt at sliding a copy of the latest issue inside the shaft of my boots. My new books gave me many hours of reading pleasure and more knowledge of sex; I was sure, than anyone in my school, including, I now know, some adult teachers. I really began to wonder about the kindly old professor I met at church when I discovered two well read and annotated books on hypnosis, one was a medical textbook, the other was titled "fun hypnosis for stage and parlors".

I read every book in the box, including 5-6 of pure porn, describing practically everything that could be done between two persons, most of it between a man and woman. I read and was nauseated by the male homosexuality and presumed I would feel the same way about the book on lesbians, until I found copious notes on ways to use a woman's physical reactions to sexual manipulation into a response which could lead to coitus with a man. There was a short hand-written account of a successful college campaign to fuck a lesbian. It worked so well, she became an "easy fuck" for any man who knew the secret words to turn her on. As expected, soon every guy on the campus knew the words and she became so addicted to being fucked that she started initiating her own gang-bangs. She loved to pull trains and be made "airtight."

Feeling that I had mastered at least the equivalent of at least two college courses in seducing women, I felt that a high school girl would have no chance against my new abilities; all I needed was some hands on practice. I had still been meeting Janet early for several weeks and we spent a lot of time together in the country. She continued to find place to park and while she never again made any comments about "her guy", we just talked about our week and our friends, just casual conversation. I visited the drug store where I used to work and told the owner I needed to use the restroom, he told me to go ahead and I went to the back. I opened the cabinet containing condoms and got lucky, there several opened cartons; I slipped 2-3 packages from several cartons into my pockets, adding some to my boots. I knew the price and figured that if I paid for two boxes of Anacin and a large and small jar of Vaseline. It would be fair. As I left, I was carrying a sack and paid the part-time helper. I had trained him and I just told him here is the money, there is about 50 cents left over, but yourself a coke and I left. 50 cents was a big deal to him, so there was no argument from him.