"Guess who I've got waiting in the study?" Mr Crowfoot looked immensely pleased with himself. But he would not say. Would not reveal who it was in the study. He just told Jim to undress there in the hall.
Jim found himself just so nervous at doing what Mr Crowfoot said prior to entering the study. Worse when Mr Crowfoot suggested he walked in not only naked but also erect to meet someone. A more than unusual salutation. Minutes before Jim had received an urgent telephone call. Had at first been worried Mr Crowfoot had hurt himself, perhaps had another fall, but being told to make sure he was showered and his 'cock' at the ready did rather suggest all was well and would be very well indeed for Jim.
"Undress? Here? I mean... who is it?"
But the old man would not say.
"Who," he said, "who?"
"Come on Jim, get it up." Mr Crowfoot rotated his walking stick, grasping the end rather than the handle and brought the carved handle up under Jim's penis. Not to whack his balls this time but to lift his limp penis. He bounced it up and down on the carved wooden erection, sending it up into the air and down again by way of encouragement. "Come on Jim, rise and shine! You want to be looking your best -- looking eager for our visitor."
It was not doing much good. He was not being 'encouraged.' Jim was not much into wooden cocks!
"Have a look at this then." Mr Crowfoot handed Jim an old book. "Page 53 I think will do the trick."
Jim opened it at the suggested page. What sort of book did Mr Crowfoot collect? Upon the page a delightful colour plate showing anything but a picture of old London Town or a painting of Windsor Castle from the river. It was a print of a painting, undoubtedly, but the sort of painting that most definitely would not be shown in the local public art gallery. It showed a group of young people out in a woodland setting, dancing a little like a classical picture of nymphs and satyrs and, indeed, as undressed as representations of imagined classical scenes and tales so often are. There was more than a gentle suggestion of eroticism, not an implied eroticism but a very much in your face eroticism.
The young people were clearly playing a game, and indeed a game played in classical times, 'blind man's buff' and very much in the 'buff,' but were much more modern, if not very modern, people. Two girls and three young men, all quite naked; one of the girls blindfolded and shown reaching out to catch one of the other players. Delightfully she had caught one of the young men by his penis and was holding it tightly and pulling so that it was shown elongated and erect. There was no doubting, either, that the artist by showing the other penises rather swollen, but not actually erect, was implying the whole game was being played in a sexual way. The painting vividly showed movement and it was a delight to see the laughter on the faces and the way the artist had painted the girls and young men. The girls were very curvaceous and pleasing, their breasts and private hair very much on show.
"Where did you get this?" Jim turned to another page, but the first illustration had had the desired effect. The painting and the idea resonated with him and had caused Jim to stand.
"Leave the book and in you go." The old man tapped Jim again with his stick. This time on his rump and Jim stepped towards the study door. He did so with apprehension. Who was within? Jim reached for the handle and turned it. Perhaps within there were a group of young girls with one blindfolded and ready to play the game in the picture. Perhaps.
What was he doing? Could he, a few months before, have imagined himself doing this. Opening a door to meet someone whilst not only naked but... It was there, close to the doorknob -- his knob -- his penis tumescent.
There was not, though, a group of young women in the study. Just the one. Jim stood in the open doorway astounded. How had Mr Crowfoot found her? He had had no idea. Had not thought of her at all. It was Miss Rachel Redmond no less.
Jim's jaw had dropped and he had an unexpected jelly like feeling in his legs. The teacher he had desired when in the 6th form, the one he had mentioned to Mr Crowfoot was there in the study, alone and looking at him. Jim's ingrained response, learnt from when a small boy, of respect and obedience to teachers kicked in. "Err, how are you, miss?" He felt his penis bobbing but he did not feel it subsiding. Not a bit of it.
She was sitting there on the Chesterfield, knees together, looking straight at him. He felt suddenly like a little schoolboy caught doing something wrong, coupled with the intense embarrassment he might have felt, indeed, had Miss Redmond somehow walked in on him fresh from the showers after football or something. This combined both feelings, being in the wrong and embarrassed, because his erection was the 'wrong' thing and he was indeed naked. Perhaps it was as if he and a girl had been caught fucking after school by Miss Redmond with him instinctively leaping from her and standing facing the teacher with hard and wet erection -- the schoolboy very much caught naked doing something wrong! Of course, such a thing had never happened. No girl had suggested fucking to him, after school, at school or anywhere else. There had been no opportunity, alas, for Miss Redmond to catch him.
Her reply came easily and with that unfazed calmness teachers, not least Miss Redmond, have. "I'm very well, Jim and it is good to see you again." Was there a slight lift of the eyebrows as she said 'see.' "You're looking well." Her eyes dropped very obviously to his erection. "Mr Crowfoot said you had something to show me and I think I know what that is." She reached out a hand and beckoned.
Jim stepped forward, just so relieved the room was clearly having its normal and remarkable effect on women, feeling so embarrassed, yet revelling in his unexpected exposure to his former teacher. He did not so much as touch it, rather just came forward and carefully set his erection and balls down upon Miss Redmond's outstretched hand as if he had been caught with something he should not have brought to school and it was being confiscated. Such an exciting and enjoyable thing to do, just setting his penis on her hand. His penis being confiscated. Would she perhaps say he could have it back after school? She did not, though, have a desk to hide away the confiscated item. Where might she put it instead?
His penis in her palm, his balls upon her fingers; he felt the fingers move, gently stroking his balls; moving them as her fingertips reached his perineum behind, making them swing.
"And what have you been doing," she asked.
Jim found himself telling Miss Redmond his history since school; such a normal conversation if it was not for his nakedness, erection and Miss Redmond's fingers; it was just the sort of conversation a former teacher might have with an unexpectedly met former pupil. He could not help himself. She had asked.
She was as he remembered, tall with ginger hair tied back. He found himself staring at her chest as he talked, she was busty, really busty. He had not forgotten that.
"Still interested in my chest, Jim?"
She had known, known what he had been looking at in lessons. "I... I'm sorry...I..."
"All the boys did, Jim, I can't help having a big chest. What did you want to do, sitting there in class? Did you..." she bounced his erection up and down in her palm; it made slapping sounds as it dropped back into her hand, "have an erection?"
The word 'erection' coming from Miss Redmond's lips was just so erotic. Imagine if she had said or asked that question in class. He would have died from embarrassment but what if she had asked someone else.
