Now the gorgeous thirty-two year old brunette was completely engulfed by the all-consuming lust which had been hewn to a peak with the tantalizing caresses between her thighs. She spread her legs wide, bending her knees to expose the tingling slit of her pussy even more defenselessly to the obscene thrusting of her middle finger up into the warm quivering cunt flesh while she continued and intensified the swift stroking of her thumb across the excitedly pulsing little bud of her clitoris.
Forgetting everything, Rebekah mewled and whimpered without restraint from the surging lust that coursed over every inch of her nakedly exposed flesh. She wiggled her finger furiously from side to side to probe into the most sensitive areas of her hot inner cuntal flesh, and her thumb squashed down hard on her little clitoral bud, causing flashes of overpowering delight to surge through her body. Like some perfectly functioning machine, the young woman arched her asscheeks up off the bed, not unaware of the pressure of her toes on the mattress, and scissored her naked thighs open and closed in a flurry of shameless arousal. She had reached the point of no return and there was no way to stop until she found the release she so desperately needed. With a deep animal groan of abandoned lust, she began to writhe and toss without control on the bed, her finger working all the way to the last knuckle up into the softly yielding flesh of her pussy. A torrent of moans and whimpers and distant hissing sounds issued from her throat, and again her eyes clamped tightly shut, her teeth grinding in animal fashion as she strained for the now imminent release.
Rebekah Howell lingered in the terrible purgatory of unfulfillment for a few moments longer. Then suddenly her whole body tensed. She shuddered, fucking her finger in a staccato rhythm in and out of the softness of her burning cunt, deep groans rising urgently to her lips. Then, in a sudden whiplash motion, her naked body uncoiled, her legs closing tightly about the hand that invaded her private pussy flesh as she felt the rising tide begin to swell from deep in her belly.
It was going to happen! Unconsciously she caressed her toes against the mattress. She couldn't have stopped it now even if she wanted to. She was going to cum, and there was no escape. Then an even more obscene spasm of delight shook her lushly ripened body, sweeping away the last of her inhibitions with the salacious promise swelling in her loins. She moaned in wanton delirium, drawing her finger completely out of the quivering cuntal flesh, and concentrating totally on the rapid stroking of her thumb over the now lewdly pulsating pink bud of her clitoris. Then she moaned even louder and fucked her middle finger savagely back into the convulsing wet flesh. She continued the frantic finger-fucking in and out of her clasping little pussy, her breath rasping in short strained gasps as she groaned in the delirium of her pleasure and wallowed in the obscene and depraved bliss as the lightning-like sensations jolted through her body. Oh God, how good it felt, even without a boy, and she almost passed out from the mind-blowing sensation.
Finally, Rebekah's soft white asscheeks sank in exhaustion down on the bed, and she dropped her head back to the pillow, gasping to catch her breath. Absently, she reached down for the sheet and spread it over her naked body, even kicking it up over her now relaxed toes. For a few moments longer the little spasms of excitement continued to course through her loins, and she left her hand resting limply on the sensitive and sated flesh between her thighs. She closed her eyes and for a moment, almost drifted into sleep. The problem with drifting into sleep, however, was that she kept thinking and wondering about Jim Craft with his angelic face, his 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.