Danny Starr - Go Down Payments

Without waiting to hear anything else, the two girls hurried from the alleyway. They managed to be three blocks away before Walter's goons left the cleaning store.

"Wow!" Eva whispered. "That's Cousin Walter's place of business. I wonder if the police know he operates from there."

"Of course not," Marge told her. "Haven't you seen enough police shows on TV by now to know the police always close up loan shark shops."

"Golly, we could get mom out of this by calling the police and telling them," Eva reasoned.

"And then we'd be right back out on the street, or in another dirty apartment. Don't you like living with Cousin Walter?"

"Well sure, but isn't his price for living with him kinda high?"

"I'll pay it every day of the week," Marge told her sister, "Golly, it was wonderful, it was really wonderful."

"Yeah but I saw some things in that movie I went to, and they looked kind of painful. I mean, I saw the men using whips and chains on the girls before they… well,… you know…"

"Cousin Walter isn't a pain freak," Marge said. "He just gets a little angry when things don't go his way."

"Hey, what about that Elliot Bessel. Do you think we should warn him?" Eva asked.

"Well, I suppose it'd be the right thing to do. But we'll have to do it by phone. We could never get to his place before those four guys."

The two girls hurried back to Walter's apartment, and there, looking in the phone book, they found Elliot Bessel's number.

"Good thing he isn't unlisted," Marge said, dialing the phone.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. The voice on the other end was almost harsh when it said, "Hello!"

"Mr. Bessel," Marge whispered, trying to make her voice sound more adult. "Four men are coming over there to beat you up. You better get away, fast."

"Who is this?" Bessel asked, and Marge could detect a hint of some kind of accent.

"Never mind," Marge told him. "Run!"

She hung up, saying, "Gee. We can't do more than that."

"Hey, if Cousin Walter starts getting tough with mom, we'd better call the police and let them know where he works," Eva said.

"I'm for that," Marge nodded, "but only if he gets tough. In the meantime, I want to enjoy everything he has to offer."

"Gee," Eva said. "I feel like I'm in some kinda movie, or something. It's kinda like cops and robbers and you're sort of like the mystery lady who's helping the hero out."

"Mr. Bessel? You think he's some kind of hero?" Marge asked.

"Gee, in the movies he would be."

"But this isn't the movies."

"Still," Eva asked, "don't you kinda want to meet him and see what he looks like?"

"Of course not," Marge told her sister. But deep down a seed had been planted. She was starting to think of Elliot Bessel.

Eva could barely concentrate in class, the following day. All the mysterious things she and her sister had seen and done the previous evening still weighed on her mind. Golly! This was just like a Nancy Drew book.

She got out of school at two-thirty and went back to the apartment. This was Wednesday. Marge had some kind of after-school study group she belonged to, and she wouldn't be back for nearly two more hours.

The large bathroom she shared with her mother and sister had a bathtub in it, and Eva had always wondered what it would be like to take a shower in a stall shower. Cousin Walter had a stall shower in his private bathroom. Since no one else was in the apartment, she decided to see what it was like to use a stall shower.

Taking her clothes off in her room, she carried a small cotton bathrobe with her as she nudely padded from her bedroom into Cousin Walter's. She walked straight through to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, with the door shut, she saw the full-length mirror. Gee! Cousin Walter sure knew how to live.

Eva was a romantic girl, with visions of fairy princesses and dashing princes always running through her mind. All heroines had to be beautiful, and as she stared at her figure in the mirror, Eva decided she was definitely cut out to be a heroine. She would be thirteen in three months, but to look at her body one would think she was eighteen. Her breasts were full, white spheres set high on her chest, with their pinkish tan nipples tilted upward, looking like small pecans. The aureole surrounding each nipple was still small, about the size of a half dollar, and was a lighter pink-tan than the nipple itself. But the way the fluorescent light in the bathroom bounced off her flesh created the appearance each aureole was a kind of pink halo rather than part of her flesh. She could see the underside of each breast very clearly, and knew she could pass the "pencil test." There were girls in her class with such large breasts they were beginning to sag. Though the young girls insisted to their friends that their mammarial expansion did not keep their tits from standing up, one of the girls had proven otherwise. There were two girls with large breasts, and they, Eva, and the other girl who was going to prove how much the heavy breasts hung, went to the girls' bathroom. There, all four girls had stripped to the waist. The fourth girl had produced a pencil which she'd held under her own breast. When she'd let it go, it had dropped to the floor. The same thing happened when she held the pencil under Eva's breast. But when she put it under each of the other girls' breasts, the pencil stayed in place, clamped between the breast and the chest.

There was still a small padding of baby fat around her waist, but Eva knew it would eventually disappear, especially when she grew a little taller. Her belly was slightly bowl-shaped, but it would flatten out if she grew two more inches. As it was, she was already as tall as her mother… maybe a half inch taller. She would grow a little more. The one place she hadn't "developed" was between her thighs. There wasn't a single hair on her pelvis, even though a light sprinkling of brown hair had started growing under her arms. In the meantime, there was nothing to hide the pouting pink outer lips as they swelled so convexly outward. The pinker inner lips were barely visible, a thin, crooked line running right up the middle of her crotch. Looking at it from a standing angle, made Eva think she had been put together with something left out.

Starting the shower, she waited until the water was just the right temperature, and then she stepped inside. Closing the door behind her, she let the water cascade all over her. It felt funny not having to worry about whether shower curtains were in or out of the tub. Her short, curly brown hair got soaked, but she didn't care. She had all the time in the world to dry it out. In the meantime, she simply enjoyed the force of the water beating down on her as she carefully soaped herself allover, then rinsed herself off.

Turning off the shower, she stepped out and reached for the large bath towel on the rack. But it wasn't there. It was being held by Cousin Walter, who had come in while she'd been daydreaming in the shower. He was fully dressed except for his jacket, holding the towel wide open, saying, "Come here, Eva. Let me dry you off."

Eva felt very embarrassed. She was at the awkward age where she was too old to feel natural with an adult around to dry her off, but too young to really appreciate what a man might think of her body, even if she believed herself pretty enough to be a heroine. She wanted to jump back into the shower and hide, but, like Marge, knew she didn't dare offend her cousin. Besides, Marge had already made her aware of Walter's temper.

Slowly, she walked over to Walter and let her body be wrapped in the fluffy towel. She could feel his hands wandering all over her body as he dried her off.

"Like?" he asked, his hands moving a bit roughly over her.

Eva didn't know what to reply. He had done a good job of drying her, even drying her hair, somewhat. His hands had lingered over certain delicate areas of her body longer than they would have had he been intent on drying her with nothing else in mind. But she could see Cousin Walter wanted more, much more. His own body was pressed against her buttocks as he stood behind her and dried her breasts, cupping and feeling them, making the nipples swell and expand. Yes, she liked it. It felt even more wonderful than she had imagined when she'd seen the men doing it to the various women in the movie, yesterday. Golly! Marge was right about how good it felt to have a man's hands wandering over her body. When the flat of his bare hand rubbed her belly, Eva actually sighed, letting Walter know she was no less hot-blooded than her sister and mother.