Vance Caldwell - Mrs. Howell_s foot

Rebekah Howell sighed with contentment, stretching her naked body languidly, then rolled on her side to snuggle closely to the nakedly exposed young blond boy who now napped beside her on the bed. Of the whole group, she decided, Jim was still her favorite. Maybe it was because she hadn't had him very much yet, but still, he was proving to be an adept lover for one who had so little experience. Still, she would really like them all to come once in awhile. And the more she thought about it, the more possessive she became. Yes, she felt demanding about it! The powerful force of her happy body was growing more insistent.

"Well, boys," she suddenly spoke up. "I guess we know where the future club meetings are going to be held, don't we!"

"It'll be all right with you?" Jack asked excitedly.

"It doesn't look to me as though you are going to give me any choice, are you?" she asked the awe-struck little boy.

Tommy Speigle seemed to be in conference with Andy Wallace.

"Tell you what, Miss Howell," Andy spoke up then. "You give us each a pair of shoes of our choice, and we'll come."

"You mean all I have to do is withhold the shoes and you'll stay away?"

"Hey, Jim," Tommy called. "We're going to need your vote. Wake up!" he shouted loud enough to reach through the thin haze of Jim Craft's mild sleep to arouse him.

"What?" the boy asked.

"We're all going to get a pair of Miss Howell's shoes and come back for more next week… more, you know what!" Tommy rolled his eyes.

"Now just a minute, boys," Rebekah broke in. "Now what do you want my shoes for?" She thought to herself that the shoes would be going too far. It was too dangerous. If every little boy in town was suddenly caught with a pair of woman's shoes, all the same size, Miss Howell's size… what would happen?

"I know!" Jim chimed like an excited bell. "I vote for the shoes!"

Andy burst out laughing. "You were asleep, dumbkopf, and don't even know what was going on. We all vote for the shoes, but if Miss Howell doesn't want to give them, then we all have to stay away. You see?" The grin of Andy's face was infectious and evil.

Jim caught on. He turned innocently to Rebekah Howell. He wanted those shoes, too. They would be much better than a playgirl made of cold paper from a magazine.

"Don't you want us to come back?" he asked the curvaceous brunette.

She hesitated, her fear suddenly rising to feel like a ball of cotton in her throat. What could she do? And who would ever know whose shoes all the boys in town had?

"What color?" she asked resignedly, and the whole troop of them made a dive for her closet.