Chapter 7
For Toby, the next day was a very long day at the office. One of the longest she could remember. But five o'clock came, at last, and she was one of the first into the elevator. She treated herself to a cab ride home.
The phone was ringing as she came through the door to her apartment. Oh, God, she thought. Something's come up. Of course something's come up. But he can't come over tonight.
It was Steve, all right.
"Listen," he said, "I can only talk for a second." 'Then talk," she said.
"It's my friends," he said. "They want to and they don't want to."
"What's that supposed to mean."
"Well, they're kind of scared."
"Of me?"
'They don't even know you. Of course not. But the whole idea."
"Well, Jesus. What'd you pick, nothing but vestal virgins?"
"No, they're not virgins. At least, they claim they're not virgins. But they'll be kind of-well, shy, at first anyway."
"Oh, is that all," Toby said, relieved.
"They'll be all right, once we break the ice. But be kind of gradual with them, you know? So they don't panic."
"I think I know what you mean," Toby said, smiling. "I think I know exactly what you mean. I'll be very polite and proper, to start off. Then I'll just sort of tease around, for a while."
"Beautiful," Steve said. He hung up.
She'd forgotten to ask him how many friends he was bringing, she realized as she put the receiver back in its cradle. Well, what difference did it make, anyway? The more the merrier.
After she fixed herself some dinner and had eaten and killed all the time she could washing the dishes and straightening the place up, she started debating with herself about what to wear. She couldn't very well open the door for them stark naked, which is what she'd like to have done, but it might scare the shy ones out of their wits. Or out of their hard-ons, which was worse. But she didn't want to greet them in something as sexless as a long housedress, either. It might take their mind off sex completely, and it would be that much harder to break the ice later. Break the ice. That was Steve's phrase, she remembered. Well, he didn't have to worry. She'd find a way.
She slipped into a white summer minidress that was so short her pussy would have been exposed every time she moved if she hadn't worn pants. She put on white ones, the briefest and sheerest she had. Her pussy showed through, but only as a dark shadow. No bra, of course. Her boobs bounced and jiggled freely, but the nipples showed through only faintly. She stepped into a pair of high-heeled mules, and she was ready.
She had just sat down to wait when the downstairs buzzer rang.
After Steve's warning on the phone, his friends were a surprise to her. They looked young, God knows, as they filed through the door she held open for them, but they went through the confusing ritual of introductions without a trace of shyness or awkwardness. Maybe her all-American, girl-next-door look in that summer dress had something to do with it, she thought. Maybe I remind them of their goddam sisters. Ho. Some sister.
There were three of them. Somehow she'd been expecting two, but three was even better. They looked young enough and tender enough to eat. Which wasn't a bad thought. Her mouth watered. Not only her mouth. What she had before her, she thought, was a feast of young male flesh. A smorgasbord, if you happened to feel Scandinavian.
Steve's friend Tommy Weems was thin and brown-haired, smiling and cheerful-looking and completely at ease; he looked enough like Steve to be his brother. Sam Romberg was a muscular, stocky blond boy. Kevin Walsh was a tall redhead, who looked a little older than the other boys, almost old enough to be legal, Toby thought. They were all old enough to drink beer. Old enough to like to drink beer, anyway.
When they all had cans of beer in their hands and she had a Scotch and water in hers, they settled around the room, two on the convertible couch, which she hadn't pulled out to make into a bed, on account of Steve's warning, one in one easy chair, and one perched on the big hassock.
She sat in the other easy chair, and crossed her legs. There was no inconspicuous way to cross her legs, and the boys all stared, hungrily, at all that luscious curvature of bare tanned flesh.
"Well," she said, raising her glass in a toast, "to education."
They all looked mystified, but sipped their beer anyway.
"When you told me once a teacher, always a teacher, you weren't being serious, were you?" Steve asked. He looked a little worried.
She laughed.
"When I said, 'to education,' I didn't mean higher education," she said.
"To lower education, then," Steve said.
"Exactly. Lower education. Or low-down learning. There's nothing like it."
"You can say that again," Steve said, unable to wrench his eyes from the ripeness of her legs. She re-crossed them, slowly, putting them on abundant display. Four pairs of eyes watched them, hungrily. And she'd thought that all teen-agers were tit men.
But in that dress, of course, she wasn't giving the tit men much to see. She could do much better. And maybe it would help to break the ice.
"It's a warm night," she said, standing suddenly. "And I'm going to get into something a little less formal. Then maybe you'll all get a little less formal." She looked at their faces, meaningfully, and found what she'd hoped for. A little confusion, a little Christmas-eve expectation, and a lot of raw young lust.
What was keeping them so polite, she realized, was that they didn't quite believe whatever Steve had told them. Seeing her in the flesh, they'd probably found her to be too much to believe. Too much, for any horny but hesitant growing boys, no matter what Steve had said. They were probably inclined to think, seeing her in the flesh, that Steve had been just fantasizing. Boast-fantasizing.
Well, she'd straighten them out, and up, quick enough. She smiled at them before turning to sway and jiggle her way to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she shucked her dress and panties, lifted her short, loose, most-revealing-of-all hard-on provoker from its handy hook behind the door, and slipped it on.
The loose flared hem swung and flipped at the approximate level of her now-unencumbered, living, breathing, pinkly-pouting pussy. Her boobs bobbed and jiggled freely, too, in the deep-cut, diaphanous looseness of the garment that inevitably showed far more than it hid. Anything it hid, it hid only fleetingly, as if by accident.
Make their mouths water, the tit men in the group, she thought. She opened the door and pranced buoyantly out into the middle of the room.
Four sets of eyes opened wide. Four mouths dropped slightly open.
She stepped over to her chair, keeping herself in profile to the boys. But before sitting down, she faced them, bending forward and letting her breasts swing free and full and jiggling, on open display inside the falling-away front of the gown. When she sat, she crossed her legs in the same motion, so none of them got enough of a look to know that she wasn't wearing pants. A hint,, maybe, a shadow of pussy-fur, but only a peek at best. They couldn't be sure. Yet.
But they were turning into believers of Steve. There was a touch of perspiration visible on a couple of smooth young foreheads.
"Well," she said. "like this informal gown a little better?"
"Jesus," the tall redhead said, gulping. Kevin, his name was. She'd have to try to keep their names straight. "Jesus, come into focus."
"You can talk plainer than that," she said, smiling. She turned to Steve. "Can't he, Steve?"
"Sure he can," Steve said, "and so can you, now."
"It'll be all right, now," Steve said. He seemed to be reassuring her. The thought amused her. The tease in her rose to the surface.
"Well, group," she said. "You don't think there's anything unseemly about saying what's on our minds?"
"No," Kevin said. "I don't."
"You have nothing against hearing four-letter words, and using them yourselves, when the occasion calls for them?"
"No," the blond boy said. Sam.
"Shit, no," Steve's look-alike said, grinning. Tommy. She had all their names straight.
"Well, then," she said. "What were you thinking, just now, Kevin?"
"I was thinking you're the most gorgeous-looking girl I've ever seen, in the flesh," Kevin said.
"Thank you. That's all you were thinking?"
"Well." He hesitated, but only for a second. "I was thinking that I'd give anything to go to bed with you."
"That's very flattering," she said, looking at him without smiling now. "But can't you talk plainer than that?"
"What I want more than anything, right now," he said, not hesitating at all this time, "is to fuck you."
"Well," she said, leaning back in the easy chair and swinging her slippered front foot, "now we're getting somewhere."