Karen was obviously pleased at having Kenny call her even though she tried to hide it. "I'll take it upstairs," she coolly answered, affecting her most disinterested tone of voice.
"Hi, Kenny," she said. "If you called about studying together like we were talking about the other day, you almost blew it. I was going to find out first if I could and then tell you, remember?”
"Oh. Sorry. Well, do you know yet? Can we study together at your house?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "And guess what-we get to study up in my room with no little pests around. Groovy, huh?”
Since Kenny was a year older and a year ahead of Karen in school, she considered him older and more of a catch than any boy in her own class. She considered it something of an honor to have him show any interest in her and wanted to make sure she was the equal of any girl in his own class. She gave him a date a few nights away and he said he could make it. Since he still hadn't shown the kind of enthusiasm she expected about her special arrangement to study together in the privacy of her upstairs room, she thought maybe she'd better make things more emphatic. She knew she was cute enough to beat out some of his other girl friends but she wanted to let him know she was capable of doing something about it if she took a notion, too.
"Kenny," she purred, her voice as sexy as she could make it. "Nobody else is on the line. You can say anything you want to.”
He took her lead. "Okay," he answered. "When I come over to study with you do we have to spend all our time with the books?”
It was something exactly like she hoped he would say. Now it was her turn.
"No, silly. Not at all. Not as long as my mom thinks that's what we're doing," she said. "There might be a lot of things we could do. I guess you already have some ideas about that. I may surprise you though. I have some ideas myself.”
He gave a little laugh. "Yeah? Great! Listen, do you think you'll be wearing the blouse I saw you in the other day when I went past your house and you waved at me from your patio? It really does things for you. If you know what I mean.”
She giggled. "I think I know what you mean," she told him. "I won't tell you for certain. Wait and find out for yourself when you come over. Okay?”
"Okay. But I hope you do," he said.
"You'll see," she replied.
After she hung up she went to her room and got the blouse. It gave her a big thrill to find out he'd remembered what it looked like. She held it up to herself in the mirror. It was no wonder he wanted her to wear it. It wasn't the clingy kind that let a guy see a girl's boobies like the tie-dye tee-shirts her big sister wore. But in its own way it was even better. It had huge sleeves that fit onto the bodice with big armholes. If someone was standing just right they could see all the way inside and get a nice look at the boobies with nothing on them but the bra.
He must have really been looking at her close if he noticed how it was made, she thought. With a mixture of embarrassment and pride, she suddenly wondered if he might have seen into the armholes as he rode by. It was mostly pride she experienced. She spent a lot of time every night looking in the mirror after she took her bath and she was convinced her boobies were as good as any girl's in her class. Kenny had probably been inside a few girls' bras before, she thought, but she believed her boobies measured up well with the competition unless the girl was quite a bit older and had real big ones.
It gave her a charge to think of having Kenny sneaking peeks inside her blouse while they were in her room. She knew darned well her nipples would get hard if he did. They always did when things like that happened. But her bra would cover them, so he couldn't tell if they got hard or not.
She did a little pirouette in front of the mirror, allowing the peasant skirt she wore to flare high up over her knees and give a fleeting glance of her underpants. What would Kenny think if he ever got to see that, she mused. She stood in front of the mirror and carefully pulled the hem up until it stopped just short of her crotch. It wouldn't be vain of her to say that she had pretty legs, she decided. They were long for her frame, with cutely rounded knees and slender, well-contoured thighs and calves. And it wasn't just her own opinion either. Lots of times on the street she would catch men looking at her legs as she walked. Not just boys her age-many were grown-ups, the kind of men who like to look at an adult lady's legs and wouldn't bother to look at the legs of a girl her age unless they were pretty special.
She hung the blouse back up and went downstairs. Jane and Jerri were gone to town and only Kathie was there. She was watching television so she took advantage of the situation and returned to her room. It wasn't often she took a nap during the day, but today she felt like just that. With Kathie occupied in the living room maybe she could get some sleep.
She stripped off her clothes and started to yank on her nightgown when she realized how silly it was. It was only because she was used to wearing it at night, and her mother had always told her it was unladylike to sleep in nothing but your underclothes. She climbed into bed in just her panties and bra. Actually she would been more comfortable without the bra, but it was so new to her and she was so happy about finally having something to fill one that she always slept in it.
She shook her hair out and burrowed her head into the pillow. It sure was nice to be between a pair of cool, clean sheets. That made her remember how Jerri and Rodney had talked so much about getting under the sheets and then wound up making love on top of the bedspread and never waiting till they were under the sheets at all. In her mind's eye she could see them getting undressed and running their hands over each other.
The memory of Rodney's muscular body stuck in her mind like a billboard. It would have been fun just to get to see him naked, with his wide shoulders and his thick, man-size penis like she'd never seen before. But the things he did to her big sister-wow! She had decided right then and there that she wasn't going to let herself miss out on such things just because she was a little young- She was old enough to have boobies, wasn't she? She lay in bed on her back and ran her fingers up her stomach to her bra. She inserted a couple under the cup of the right-hand side and then the left-hand side. They were there all right, as smooth and firm as ever.
She knew darned well plenty of boys would want to see them if they could. And touch them, too. It was true that she wasn't able yet to have an orgasm, but she thought she'd undoubtedly get the knack of it soon. And until she did, she was willing to consider letting a boy stick in his rod and give her the business anyway. Even if she couldn't quite have a climax she was sure that the feeling would still be well worth the effort.
After massaging her tightly brassiered young breasts for a while she turned onto her side and let her hand drop between her legs. She honestly meant to take a nice long nap at the time she crawled into bed. But letting herself think again about Rodney and her sister had made her a little warm inside her panties. It felt so good playing with herself the night she watched them that she wondered why she didn't fool around with herself a lot more often. She rubbed her hand slowly up and down the front of the thin undergarment and luxuriated in the way the warmth increased and spread through the tender flesh of her organs.
For once, Kathie was out of the room. Why not treat herself to a nice little interlude of finger play? It wasn't that often she got to be alone. She smiled to herself and thought about what might happen when Kenny came to visit. As she thought of him she worked her forefinger inside the leg-band of her panties. She wondered if he had ever gone all the way with a girl. She also spent a long time trying to imagine what his penis might look like. It probably was much smaller than Rodney's, she reasoned, but so what? Rodney was much older. She thought of how it would be to remove the thing from his fly like she'd seen Jerri do with Rodney. Whatever its size, she sure would like to put her hands inside his pants and frig it for him.
She squirmed her hand farther into her panties until she had all five fingers there. For a few minutes she toyed with herself without going inside the moist, pouting lips. But she soon nee led a lot more love at the site. There wasn't room to move. She went ahead and stripped the panties down to her knees she she could have full access to her organs.
For along time she lay stroking herself, slowly at first and then faster and faster. It was beautiful to use her hands on herself like she was doing, and she brought herself to a state of excitement almost as high as when she was watching her sister and boyfriend. She kept it up for several minutes but she could never get any closer than before to the magic place she knew existed. After nearly a hour of lying in bed without going to sleep, she finally dozed off.
But there was something new about the way she slept. Instead of having the warm, pleasant feeling go away like it used to when she was younger, her genitals remained excited. She was getting older now and her sex desires were increasing. Because of the trace of passion left in her loins she dozed off to sleep with her fingers still placed gingerly between her legs. And because she had become overheated from all her activity underneath the covers, she pushed them aside and lay with only her feet and part of one leg covered up.
That's exactly the way Kathie found her when she walked into their room a half hour later. She had a big book under her arm and was dying to show Karen some pictures in it. It surprised her very much to find her asleep. Besides that, Kathie was stopped by her position-covers barely covering her body, panties down to her knees, and last but not least, her hand plainly touching her naked genitals. Karen had a family reputation for being a sound sleeper. Kathie decided to take advantage of it.
The book she had with her was an old volume she'd found in some of their father's things still left in the attic. It was musty and faded but a few pictures in it had immediately caught Kathie's eye. Some Asian temples were pictured and on two of them there were giant sculptings that showed naked women with their arms around each other. One even showed two young women quite plainly fondling each other's exposed genitals. Kathie was going to show it to Karen and ask if she had ever heard of two girls doing such a thing to each other. Well, it was her tough luck not to be awake so she could see them, she decided. And coming upon her sister's sleeping form had given her a better idea anyway.
She shook the bed hard to make sure Karen wasn't just catnapping. Just as she thought. Not the slightest move. Ever since they had masturbated in front of each other that night Kathie had been awfully curious about a few things. If Rodney and her big sister Jerri could make each other "come," as Karen called it, why couldn't she or Karen manage to do it alone? The picture gave her the idea for a way to do it. Maybe two girls could do things to each other, sort of like a man and woman did together.
And another thing. Why didn't she have a cunny that got wet after being played with for a while, like Karen's did? She didn't quite believe what her sister had told her-that it was just a matter of a girl's age. She didn't see how there could be that much difference between her arid Karen. Kathie had finally gotten the notion that maybe if she rubbed a little of Karen's "cunny wetness” on her own small organs she might be able to play with herself for a long time like Karen was able to do.
Gee, this is going to be fun, she thought, to herself as she sat down on the bed beside her sister. She raised Karen's hand from its position between her thighs and it flopped on the bed like she was dead. Good… still no sign of waking up. Kathie looked at the pictures in the book. She was wearing jeans, so she lowered the top and unzipped them to get at her sex. Then she took Karen's limp hand and moved it toward her naked pelvis.
Wonder what it'll feel like to have my cunny touched by a girl's hand? she mused. She laid Karen's lifeless hand oil her naked V. If the youngster had stopped there maybe things would have been all right. But when she put her hand on Karen's genitals, it was going too far. Even she didn't sleep so deeply that she wouldn't stir when someone put their hand there in that sensitive region. She groggily rubbed her eyes and shifted around on the bed. The movement scared Kathie and she dashed for the door but Karen managed to awaken herself too soon for her to escape. She sat up and yanked her panties up where they belonged, then jerked the bed covers over her seminaked body.
She yelled at Kathie and asked her what was going on. When she asked if she touched her just before she woke up, Kathie confessed. Then she grabbed the book, showed Karen the pictures, and explained her idea about trying to see if two girls could make each other come by frigging each other. Karen was irate, in spite of all Kathie's protests, and told her, "Only queers do stuff like that. Is that what you want to be, dummy-an old queer?”
The word didn't mean much to Kathie, so it went in one ear and out the other. But it was obvious Karen was completely opposed to the idea. She showed her the book again and told Karen, "But look, these statues are doing things with each other. Statues can't be 'queer,' can they?”
Karen said she didn't care what kind of pictures she had found; people who fooled around like that with others of the same sex were queers. Kathie left the bedroom and decided not to talk about it anymore. She had her own ideas and she didn't think Karen knew much more than she did about such things. But she knew better than to include her sister in any future experiments. After she was gone, Karen lay in bed and thought about what happened. She wasn't absolutely sure about what she had told Kathie, but that's what she'd heard around school. And in any case she didn't want her dumb little sister to think she knew more about something that she did. But then she remembered how it felt to wake up with Kathie's hand between her thighs. Gee, to tell the truth, it really had felt good. Hmmmm. She didn't know quite what to make of that.
She was planning to go back to sleep now that she was rid of her little sister again but the phone rang. She knew her mother and older sister were still out of the house and when it rang the fourth time she realized Kathie must be out in the yard or someplace and she'd have to answer it herself. She hopped out of bed and dashed through the hall in her panties and bra. She knew her mother would have yelled at her for running around outside her room with nothing on but her underwear but she was angry for -having to answer it and didn't care what she wore. It was probably Jerri or her mother calling home for something. But when she said hello, a man's voice came over the wire.
“Well, hello there," he cheerily said in a low, strong masculine voice. "Your mother home?”
When Karen replied that she wasn't, he said quickly, "That's okay, sugar, wait a minute. Don't hang up yet. You'll do. You must be one of her daughters, right? How old are you?”
She thought it was strange for him to ask her that instead of her name, but she told him anyway. She kept trying to think who it might be and when he didn't identify himself she asked who was calling. He said his name was Mister Smith and he was making a survey for a women's clothing company. At the mention of clothes, Karen's attention was immediately captured.
"Could I answer the questions for your survey, Mister Smith?" she asked. "I'm not a grown lady yet so I don't wear fashion clothes or anything like that but you said I'd do if my mother wasn't here.”
She didn't know it but her youth and gullibility made her much more desirable to answer questions for the man's "survey" than her mother. But seeing that she was so enthusiastic about it, he played her along and took advantage of her interest. "I guess I might be able to use a girl as young as you in my survey," he teasingly said. "But it's designed for women mainly. You might not know how to-”
"No, I can do it!" she broke in. "I'm real mature for my age. I know lots about clothes and stuff.”
"Actually you don't need to know too much about fashion and clothes in general," he said. "This is more of a personal survey… you know, about you as an individual. That's why surveys are taken.”
"That's okay,” she volunteered. "I can do that too. Hang on a sec, will you? I'm freezing. I was taking a nap when you called and I don't have many clothes on. Back in a jiffy!”
She dashed to her bedroom and tossed a dressing gown over her shoulders. This is going to be fun, she thought to herself. Wait till I tell the kids at school I was in a survey like they have in magazines and stuff. At the phone again, she breathlessly told him she was back, to go ahead with the survey.
"You said something about being cold before you left the phone just now," he said. "What did you mean by that? You said you didn't have many clothes on-what were you wearing?”
She gave a little laugh. "Just my underwear. I told you I'd been taking a nap when you called. I had to run throw something on.”
If she had been listening very close she could have heard the man take a deep breath. His voice became thicker.
"Tell me what it looks like. What kind of gown did you put on?" he asked, homing in on her.
"Just a little white lacy thing," she replied. "You know, the kind girls wear in the bedroom. Why?”
"Part of the survey is what you happen to be wearing at the time of the call," he explained. "There'll be lots of questions I need to ask you. I can't stop to explain why each time. Now what does your dressing gown look like? You said it was white and lacy. How does it fit?”
He sounded a little irritated, she thought. It was silly of her to ask why. She'd better just answer his questions and not ask any more herself. She might blow it.
"Oh, it's knee length and has short sleeves," she replied, hoping to answer well enough to get back in his favor. "It's got a drawstring front and is made out of some kind of gauzy, thin material. It has a few flowers embroidered on it and fits me real loose.”
"Hmmm… yes," he muttered, purposely pausing as though taking notes as she spoke. In actual fact the man was simply sitting in his bedroom with his pants half off and his hand in his lap. "And your underwear," he went on. "You said all you had on at first was your underwear. Exactly what kind of underwear?”
"Well, just my panties and bra. You know. Let's see," she said, pausing to look down, "my panties are light blue, just the regular kind. And my bra is white. I didn't even know what color my panties were until I looked down at them. Isn't that silly? You know, you get used to what you're wearing and you forget things like what color they are. Especially your undies.”
Before he could respond, she noticed something that she feared might be to her discredit, and hastened to amplify on what she'd said. "I know my bra doesn't match my panties. The color, I mean. But sometimes if I'm just around the house I just wear any old color. If I was going out-even just to school or something-I'd either wear a pair of white panties to match my bra or a blue bra to match my panties. Maybe not a light blue bra. I don't know if I have one that's the very same shade. But a-”
"Yes," he said huskily, "yes, I'm sure… now about your bra. You said you were thirteen, didn't you? There are many girls your age who don't wear a bra yet. Would you say you're pretty mature for your age… I mean, physically mature? How long have you been wearing a bra, if you don't mind my asking?”
She didn't mind at all. Now he was in an area where she could show off. And somehow it was strangely exciting to her to be talking about things like this to a man. If he'd been there in person she might have been embarrassed, but this was different.
"I think you could say I'm pretty mature for my age, yeah,” she said, her chest puffing out. "I've been wearing a bra for almost a year now. I was the first girl in my class to start wearing one for real. A couple of my friends wore them before they really needed it, you know, just to impress the boys. They must have put tissue paper in there or something. I was the first one that had anything on my chest to really truly fill a bra, though. Is that what you mean?”
"Yes… yes, that's it," he said. "And when you said 'really truly fill a bra’ you meant that your… that your breasts had grown large enough to need support… right?”
"Yeah," she replied. "Large enough. I don't know about the 'support' thing, though. I mean, they don't sag or anything. They stick right out in front. Man, if I didn't wear a bra you could see my nips pooching out through all my blouses.”
"Your… your 'nips'?" questioned the man.
She giggled. "My nipples, you know.”
"Yes, yes," he said. "The nipples on your breasts. Or do you call them that? What do you and your friends call them?”
A little laugh. "Oh, just 'titties’ I guess. I never thought about it before. Or 'ninnies’ That's what my little sister calls them and sometimes I do too. Or if they're real big, like on a really stacked lady, maybe tits' or ‘knockers' or ‘jugs’ I don't know.”
"And right now the only thing you're wearing is the little dressing gown and your panties and bra?" he said. His voice was real funny, she thought, and he was talking faster.
"Yeah," she reconfirmed, "that's all. But jeez, nobody can see me. I'm upstairs in the hall by my bedroom.”
"Listen, sugar, you've been very helpful to me," he said to her, "very helpful, indeed.”
"But we haven't talked much about clothes yet, you're not through interviewing me yet, are you?" she inquired petulantly.
"Almost," he answered, his voice sounding gruff and wheezy. "I'm almost through. Listen, are you sitting down or standing up? What position are you in?”
"I'm just just sitting here on the table with one leg swung over the side and the other under my arm," she innocently replied. "My knee is under my arm and I'm holding the phone with my other arm. You know, just normal.”
"And your underwear," he went on. "Are your panties and bra visible or does your dressing down cover them up?”
She was puzzled, but also a little excited at his interest in her. "The front of my gown's open, so you can see my panties real easy. I mean if anybody was here, they could see them-nobody is, of course! And the gown's real thin; you can see right through it. So my blue bra's easy to see too.”
"Yeah?" he said. "It is, huh?”
His voice was shaky now, and she could make some kind of rhythmic little noise in the background. Something really weird was going on, she felt, even though she didn't quite know what it was.
"Well, let me tell you something, sugar. Let me tell you what I'd like to do for you for being so helpful with my little interview. You're on that end of the line and I'm on this end, so I can't really do this, you understand. But this is what I'd like to do if I could," he continued. His voice was deep and gravelly now, and Karen could hear his breath coming faster and faster.
"If I was at your house," he told her, "I'd like to come up there in that hall and see you sitting there all sweet and pretty in that thin gown you're wearing. I'd like to take it off and get you down to your underwear again. But I wouldn't stop there. I'd take that bra off and let those fine little tits of yours pop out, and I'd strip them panties off your ass and I'd slide 'em off your legs and get you naked as the day you was born.”
She couldn't believe he was saying things like that to her, but she seemed charmed somehow, like a bird before a snake, and she couldn't hang up the phone even though she knew the things he said were terribly nasty and dirty and that her mother would paddle her bottom if she could know.
"I'd throw them undies of yours down the stairs and I'd take you off that table and lay you down on the carpet. I'd get a nice handful of those tits and I'd spread your legs and make you open up so I could see every hair on your little cunt. How would you like that, sweetheart, huh? Then I'd open my fly and give you a look at something big and hard, baby, and I'd stoop down and give you a kiss on the lips and then I'd shove my prick into your mouth and make you suck it.
"I'd stick my fingers between your legs and feel up your pussy hairs for a few minutes while you sucked me off, then I'd rub your pussy lips till you got hot as a little bitch. And believe me, baby, you would! Then I'd put you down on your back and I'd fit the head of my cock in that sweet little hole of yours and I'd-”
His breath was coming in great torrents now and she was so caught up in the things he was saying that she interrupted him, her voice nervous and excited.
"My gosh, mister," she exclaimed, "Then what would you do to me, huh? Then what would you do?”
"You hot little slut, you wanna know, don't you? You wanna know!" He was now barely intelligible and the little splat splat splat sound was coming over the phone faster and faster. "I'd slip your legs around mine and I'd push my big prick down into your little cunt, that's what I'd do. I'd hunch it up your hole and show you what it feels like to be fucked, sugar, do you hear? Fucked! I'd pound your little pussy with my cock and I'd squeeze those little tits and I'd give you a nice good fucking, I'd… oh, God, I'd… I'd fuck your little cunt till you cried for more… I'd fuck you, baby,… fuck, fuck, fuck… you hear me fuck your cunt till I… oh my God, till I… oh… oh… ahhhhh!”
Karen heard a noise that sounded like the phone banging onto the floor. "Hello?" she said. "Hello, hello? Hey, are you still-" She stopped herself and came back to her senses. The spell created by hearing the man's dirty words was broken. She put the phone into its cradle and looked around her nervously. Good. Still nobody around.
All she had been doing was just listening to him, yet she felt guilty somehow and afraid someone might know what he'd been saying to her. It was a good thing Kathie wasn't around eavesdropping. She went to the bedroom and put on her clothes. As she slipped her skirt on over her smooth, slender legs she noticed that her panties were damp between the thighs. Gee, she thought to herself, I guess listening to all that sexy stuff kinda got me hot some.
She dashed into the bathroom, skinned her panties down, and tossed them into the clothes hamper, then got a clean pair from the chest of drawers. She yanked a handful of toilet tissue off the spindle and held it under the tap, then spread her legs and dabbed herself with it. She ran it all over her vulva and even stuck it down into her vagina a little, letting the water mop up all traces of the moisture caused by her excitement. Then she took another handful, soaked it with especially cold water under the tap, and gave her genitals a final going over.
"Eeek," she cried. The water was awfully cold and gave a quite a shock to her warm organs. Soon, however, the arousal she had felt was gone and she was glad to be free again. She intuitively knew that if she hadn't done something it would have become so hot between her legs that she would have had to masturbate herself. Fresh and clean again, she went downstairs.
She wondered who the man on the phone had been and how he knew their number. By that time she had realized that he was a phony and that his story about being an interviewer for some survey was nothing but malarkey. She still felt a little guilty and embarrassed about letting him fool her into listening to him. But while it was going on, the conversation had been groovy!
Her mother and sister pulled in the driveway. On their way into the house her mother was talking loud and when they reached the patio Karen could hear what it was all about.
"I was never so embarrassed in my life," said Jane, looking reproachfully at Jerri.
"Oh, Mom, really," said Jerri. "It wasn't as bad as all.that. So I just met the guy, so what? Would it be any different if we had been formally introduced? It's old hat to insist on that nowadays. Nobody does that anymore… guys and girls just meet wherever they find one another. And if something clicks, there's nothing wrong with the guy asking her if he can see her again.”
"That's not what I mean," Jane said. "It was how you met him that was so embarrassing to me. And if you had any self-respect, it would have embarrassed you, too.”
"Is it so bad he works at a gas station and that he happened to strike up a conversation with me while you were getting gas? That's awfully snobbish of you, Mom.”
"I don't mean the place you met or the fact that he works at the station, Jerri. You know what I mean-the thing that attracted him to you and made him start talking to you in the first place. It's bad enough when you go around the house without your bra and when you go out on the street that way it's even worse. I told you the other morning that it was your affair what you wear. But when you're out with your own mother it looks like you would have the decency to think how she feels about men ogling my daughter's breasts," she said.
"Oh, Mom, he didn't just start talking to me because I wasn't wearing a bra. There were plenty of other chicks around the same way if you'd just have noticed them. It just happened, that's all. He just noticed me sitting there alone while you were in the ladies' room and started chatting with me while he washed off the windshield, that's all," she countered.
The two of them had walked into the house now and were setting down their packages. Jane had cooled off a little but she still wasn't willing to let the subject drop.
"You can't fool me. And he can't, either. I saw him staring at your chest as I walked away from the car. Maybe he soft-soaped you into thinking he's madly in love with you, but I'll bet you he wouldn't have been so friendly if your boobs hadn't been bouncing around quite so much. All he's thinking about is getting your clothes off and getting his hands on them, mark my word," she finished.
Karen was sitting on the couch within easy earshot and heard every word but when Jane spotted her and realized she might have heard them talking, she pretended ignorance. When Jane spoke to her she failed to answer at first. Finally she said, "Sorry, Mom, I was reading this magazine. I'm really into this article about the rock festival. What did you say?”
Jane was relieved. "Nothing, dear," she answered. "Nothing important. Your sister and I were just having a little talk as we came in the door, but it needn't concern you.”
By dinner that night the spat had blown over. Two nights later, after the dinner dishes had been washed, Jerri showered and got ready to go out with the boy she'd met at the filling station. As she said good-bye to her mother, she asked a favor. "Mom, if Rodney should happen to call or come by tonight, tell him I'm with one of my girl friends, will you? He's been out of town for a few days and is due back tonight. We sort of halfway planned to see each other tonight but it wasn't really definite, so I'm going out with the other guy.”
At first Jane said she certainly would not give the poor boy any such message. She wasn't going to lie for her, she said. She'd have to take the responsibility for any "halfway plans" herself and not try to have her mother help her. Finally she said that if he called for Jerri, she'd at least not tell him where she really was even though she wouldn't say she was with a girl friend. Jerri decided that was the best she could hope for and left for the date.
The girls knew what was happening and watched her from their bedroom window. They thought it was smart of her to have so many boys interested in her and wished they were the same.
"Think Rodney will call her tonight?" asked Kathie.
"Maybe," said Karen. "From what Jerri said to Mom, he might even come by.”
Kathie sat on the bed dreamy-eyed. "Wow, remember what it was like the last time he was at our house?" she said.
"How could I forget!" exclaimed Karen. "I just wish he would come over. Since Jerri's gone, maybe he'd have some time for me.”
Kathie grinned. "Wouldn't that be groovy? I sure do wish he'd do some of the stuff with us that he did with her the night we peeked at them.”
Karen laughed scornfully. "What do you mean 'us'? He might want to do it with me, maybe, but not you. You're not old enough. You don't even have your own boyfriend yet, much less being ready to take on anybody else's.”
"I could if I wanted to!" exclaimed the youngster. "Besides, if Rodney would do anything with you, I bet he would with me too. You think you're so smart just because of your big fat ninnies. That's not all guys like about a girl. I bet I know some things to do that would make him dig me.”
"Maybe," admitted Karen. "But I've already got a head start. Did you see the way he looked at me the other night when Jerri and he stopped by our room on their way out? I know he noticed me. And I think he liked me. I could tell by the way he looked at me.”
"Yeah, I saw him look," replied Kathie, "but it was just because you were showing off your butt. I saw the way you had your gown pulled up till he could see almost to your cunny!”
Karen denied it! "I did not," she lied. "That's not why he noticed me at all. You're just jealous. Oh well, I don't know what we're arguing for. We're probably both too young for him. Or at least he probably thinks we are. He doesn't know all the stuff we've seen and how much we know about things. Besides, he probably won't even come by tonight anyway.”
The girls went back to their own activities. Karen was ironing her blouse to make sure it would be ready the following night when Kenny was due to come see her. It was the one he had mentioned to her on the phone and as she ironed it, she thought of how it was going to be to wear it and have him sneaking peeks at her breasts. Kathie, who lay on her bed with her feet curled up under her firm little behind, had the dusty book down from the attic and was looking again at the pictures of the naked statues.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Jane was mixing a drink. It was her second. The events of the past week had given her cause to be a bit nervous. She wasn't accustomed to drinking much around the house, but she found the alcohol made it easier to forget the changes she had been going through lately,.
She sat down in the living room and relaxed. She had finished cleaning the house, so she had changed into something more comfortable. The smart lounging pajamas she wore made her feel fresh and very feminine. But maybe that was a large part of her troubles as of late. Maybe she was letting herself feel all too feminine-all too often. The nights with Harry and with Terry, and the things she had been doing alone in bed to herself, had forced her to admit to herself that her body absolutely required some loving attention. She realized she couldn't keep herself from becoming sexually stimulated from time to time even if she wanted to.
That, after all, was the big question. Did she want to? It certainly appeared that she did. She thought with shame of the times with Harry and Terry. Just what kind of woman was she becoming, anyway? Or was it that she had always been this way deep down and was just beginning to admit it to herself. It was difficult to argue with her own body and to pretend that-The doorbell rang, almost causing her to drop her drink. When she opened the door, there was Rodney.