It wasn't until James Groten turned the last page of the book he was reading that Leslie's simple words and the thrill of her gay, teasing laughter smashed into his thoughts. Something unknown rumbled deep inside his body. He put the book down. He started to get up and sat down again.
Old lady. Old man.
In the kitchen he made himself a drink. Leslie had mopped the floor and all the kitchen chairs were turned up on the table. He sat up on the sink drain board.
He tried to condense his thinking. Why was he sexually aroused by Leslie? How many arguments did he need to convince him of moral error, moral wrong? None!
Going to the bathroom about twenty minutes later, he passed by Leslie's door. It was half open. She had the night light on. Her room was a collection of shadows. He paused. He saw her on the bed. Her back was turned. She was stark naked. He caught his breath.
Her knees were drawn up, close to her lovely breasts. He studied the contours of her bare feet, her toes, her ankles, up to her rounded buttocks, then up higher. His eyes caressed her smooth back, her bare shoulders, her flowing hair. He listened to her even breathing.
"Daddy."
James Groten flinched.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Leslie. It's me."
"Oh, silly, I know it's you! Come here and sit on my bed for a minute. I just had a fabulous dream. I want to tell it to you."
Did he dare?
"Leslie, I was going to the bathroom."
"Go, Daddy, but come back, okay?"
"I'll be back, darling."
"Daddy… hurry."
James took a cold shower. Then he shaved, a most unusual gesture at this time of night. As he stared suspiciously into the cabinet mirror, his eyes found other eyes regarding him. The eyes began to speak to each other.
No…
Yes!
No…
Yes… yes.
Drums started beating… pounding.
No.
Maybe… hell… just go in there. Sit down. Do nothing.
No.
Why?
Danger!
What kind of danger? Really, what kind?
He was naked. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. At his penis. At his legs, down to his bare feet. At his face… into his eyes.
Go.
No.
GO!
…Okay!
Leslie was humming one of her little child tunes. She was happy. She knew Jimbo would come to her. She knew he would be all undressed. She knew this.
She pulled the sheet up over her naked body. She stretched. She wiggled her toes. She smiled in the semidarkness. She moved her hand down between her open thighs. She brushed her fingers over her hairy pussy. One finger sank in easily. She was wet. She introduced another finger. In deep. Deeper. She pushed in and out, her fingers sluicing through her pussy hole, in deeper, deeper, then out, curling, twisting, then spiraling in again, this time pumping… pumping, in and out, then out altogether.
She brought her fingers up to her mouth. She smelled them. Smells good. She licked the tips. Then she plunged her fingers into her mouth. She sucked on them. She liked her special taste.
"Daddy, hurry… oh, hurry… I'm waiting!" she whispered.
James splashed some after-shave lotion on his face. It smelled of lime. He touched his penis. It throbbed. He should have his head examined.
When he passed by her door on his way to the kitchen for another drink, he peeped in. He was barefoot and she didn't hear him. Her face was turned to the will. He saw her fingers fumbling under the sheet. He went quickly!
He made the drink. Did he dare?
No!
Yes! No!!
Yessssssssss!!
Old man… old lady.
Fucking.
The longer he thought about it, the more erect his prick became. He would gaze down at his hardening penis. It looked like a stranger's. But it was his! It was hardening. He sipped his drink and stared at his hard cock.
He touched it. His fingers curled around his cock. He began to play with it. How hard it was! How hot!
The eye of his prick leaked a silvery droplet of fluid. He observed it like a scientist. He tasted it, licking his fingers.
Suddenly, he could smell Alice Duerr's pussy.
"Daddy… are you coming to me?"
Her voice shocked him out of his reverie. He was masturbating. He let go of his hot prick. Again it appeared as a stranger to him. It wouldn't go away. He willed it to go away, but it refused. It throbbed. His testicles were expanding and contracting. He suddenly had a desire to emasculate himself. He shivered. He finished the drink in one gulp.
"Daddy…?"
He waited longer. He just couldn't go into her room with a hardon!
"In a minute," he said. His voice was an unexpected whisper.
"Daddy… are you thinking about me?"
"Yes."
"Daddy, I'm thinking about you."
James Groten cleared his throat. "Darling, don't you think it would be a good idea if you went to sleep?"
"I guess so… yes… I guess so."
"Good night, darling."
"Daddy… Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Come and kiss me sweet dreams, okay?"
His penis was relaxing. "In a minute, dear."
"Daddy?"
He made a new drink for himself. "Daddy's not here, Leslie. Only Jimbo."
"Jimbo?"
"Yes?"
"Would you make me a whiskey sour?"
He made it. Just the way she liked. Just right. He was pleased with himself. He carried it in to her bedroom. She was still under the sheet.
"Hello, Jimbo!"
"Hello."
"Jimbo… Daddy… I'm lonely."
So was he.
"Jimbo, I love you."
She took the glass he handed her and drank from it. "I love you."
"I love you, Leslie."
"Jimbo…"
He swallowed hard. Why did he?
"Why, Jimbo?"
He began to answer but he found himself stuttering, "I… I… don't know… I…"
"Are you feeling sexy, Jimbo?"
Her thoughts were flooded with memories of Mr. Spire's cock. She fought back. "Daddy, I mean… Jimbo…" A long silence. "I am!"
She snuck her bare feet out from under the sheet. She wiggled her naked toes. "Daddy?"
She maneuvered her dancing toes. She scraped her toenails along his thigh. She kept her eyes closed. Her breasts seemed to ripen. She felt itchy all over. "Daddy!"
He held her ankle gently. He guided her foot down between his naked thighs. He guided her toes. They touched his phallus. She tickled his prick with her toes.
"Daddy, can I be your old lady?"
His prick exploded, all over her naked toes.