Jim stood at his window looking out. It was becoming a habit of his; the windowsill high enough so that anyone looking up from below would not see he was not simply in pyjama bottoms but totally naked. Had there been a block of flats opposite then things would have been somewhat different. On a level or higher up anyone looking across might well have seen the young man standing there stark naked and, if she or he were of a voyeuristic bent, might have been pleased to see his manly organ fully extended and up in the air.
He was looking out, not at the surprised, and perhaps pleased flat dweller, but across the road at Mr Crowfoot's old house musing on just what had happened there - and certainly that was more than enough to cause tumescence in his penis. Nurse Evans, Sophie and Jenny and now Miss Redmond. Mr Crowfoot was certainly a naughty old boy and didn't he just like sex! Jim wondered about the years before, the old man seemed now so animated and full of life, yet he had suffered from depression and had become something of a recluse. The way he had 'obtained' Miss Redmond, to Jim, made it rather surprising the old boy had been unable to inveigle other women into his study over the last few years before his accident; yet Mr Crowfoot had very clearly lamented their loss. Perhaps he had lost his confidence, perhaps he had failed on a number of occasions to entice the young women into his house; perhaps he had just given up on such things, almost on life, until his accident brought Nurse Evans into his clutches and the eager young man - himself - from across the road anxious to experience sex with girls. Perhaps it was in part Jim's eagerness that had re-inspired him: the pleasure in having an apprentice, of sorts.
And was Jim eager! He could not deny the pleasure; what had already transpired had been so enjoyable for him; the memories alone were very much to be treasured. He smiled looking across the road and began to slowly stroke himself. Miss Redmond had been lent a book or two by Mr Crowfoot. No doubt she would return it. It would be best if she returned it in the study - of course.
"I was wondering if you could invite any more of your young friends to visit?"
Jim did not only visit Mr Crowfoot when sexual acts were in the offing. He was very happy to pop in to check the old boy was fine, to enjoy a cup of tea or coffee or even a meal. Mr Crowfoot quite liked company at his supper and it was not unusual for him to telephone Jim at work and suggest he might like to join him when he came home from work.
It was completely obvious to Jim what Mr Crowfoot meant by 'inviting.' It was not just the company of young people, the chance of a chat over tea and biscuits but something rather different. And it was not young male friends he wanted to visit.
"Sophie and Jenny seem to have been very happy to visit; have taken quite a shine to you but I don't think any of the other girls... not now you are better. I'm not quite sure how or who I can ask. If you gave piano lessons or something..."
Mr Crowfoot's face broke into a smile and he tapped Jim's knee with his phallic walking stick. "Schoolgirls sitting on my lap as they practice, eh? Beethoven or Mozart with my cock in their tight little snatches, giving them the confidence for their Level Eights, making sure they get a distinction. I suspect the room would ensure the less enthusiastic - at their music - concentrated the more. But, alas, as I told you before I am not musical. You like the thought of schoolgirls eh? You certainly seemed to like teachers!"
Jim reddened; he had more than once watched groups of sixth formers walking down the road from his window, had stood a little back with binoculars in hand watching them walking to school in the morning. Girls with hair perhaps tied back in ponytails, girls in ties and blazers, girls with nicely pleated green uniform skirts. He had wondered, as he had looked at the girls closely, whether the pretty ones were still innocent. Did some of them meet boys after school and what happened then? Was it perhaps a bit of fumbling, fingers in brassieres, perhaps fingers inside knickers, perhaps enthusiastic and rigid young penises out of flies and being stroked? These older schoolgirls, all of eighteen, fascinated by how different boys were. And how was the semen their young feminine hands made rise disposed of afterwards? Jim liked the thought of it being tidily ejaculated into the girl's mouth, her head bobbing with her ponytail nodding up and down, her hand moving up and down, and then swallowed. He had thought a lot about that.
"I... yes... girls in uniform."
"Like Nurse Evans only different - in uniform." Mr Crowfoot looked momentarily wistful. "A shame she no longer visits for my bed bath and other things."
"Best that your leg is now mended!"
"Yes, but I did like her." Mr Crowfoot sighed.
"In the old days how did you entice the girls in?"
"Parties, guests staying. I... rather like your music lessons idea, but, alas, not that as a method. I remember..."
Jim settled back in his chair. What had Mr Crowfoot done in the past? Quite a lot it seemed!
Indeed, Jim did not just visit Mr Crowfoot when sexual acts were in the offing, though most certainly keen to visit when they were. Mr Crowfoot had asked if he had any more young friends who might care to visit. He could not offhand think of any he could entice into Mr Crowfoot's study; a bit of a lean patch followed until a couple of girls somewhat dropped right into the palm of his hand. Not just young female friends but girls in the latter stages of pregnancy; girls looking a little different from how girls normally look.
Jim had seen them several times in his road and had, of course, stopped to chat. Two pregnant young women, close friends of each other as Jim knew; knew well. He had, after all, been at school with both girls. They had been in the same class. The two girls had been close friends back then and nothing had changed since. Both now married, both, as he could increasingly see, pregnant and with pretty much the same term date, as they told him. They giggled and said it had probably happened on the same night for both of them - not that he would know about such things. It was that assumption Jim was gay, yet again! Where had they got that from? He had not thought he had such a reputation at school; had rather thought that had come later: university and the office. Did he look gay? He did not think he was 'camp' or anything. They had asked him if he had an especial friend and had easily used 'he' not 'she' in that respect. A couple of lovely girls; he had thought them desirable when at school and still did. Had very definitely disagreed when one suggested how awful she looked with her big 'bump' and had said how very fine she looked in her dungarees.
"I think girls look particularly pretty when pregnant."
They had laughed, rather obviously at his judgement on the attractiveness of women. They did not trust his judgement on that!
"You're looking very smart, as always, Jim." They thought he knew how to dress even if was not quite right when it came to women
The conversations each time wandered along in much the same fashion. Polite enquiries after their pregnancies, their husbands and what they had been doing. They lived not far from Mr Crowfoot or Jim, got off the bus just up the road and walked past Mr Crowfoot's big house and then turned down a side road or two.
In the way of these things the girls got bigger and bigger as the weeks went by. One Saturday Jim saw them getting off the bus laden with shopping. He was crossing the street to see Mr Crowfoot for lunch, but he hurried to help.
"We've overdone this trip a bit, Jim. If only one of us had a car."
"Too long at the shops, we've bought too much as well."
Jim took on as much as he could, but it was clear the girls were tired.
"Look, I was just popping into my friend's - here's his house. He won't mind, why don't you come in and have a sit down, a rest and a cup of tea?"
Kay and Ruth looked at each other. "Your... friend?" The implication obvious.
"Not that sort of friend - an old boy I know. On his own. I visit. He'll be delighted to see you and..."
Jim did not finish the 'and.' He knew how delighted Mr Crowfoot would be if Jim brought in more young ladies and, after his experience with Miss Redmond, the sudden possibility of 'reliving' in a very different way his schooldays appealed. He had lusted after Kay and Ruth. The room would permit his lust to be, if not satiated, certainly satisfied for a time. Would they agree? The idea was more than a little appealing.
"Well... you don't think he'd mind. Even sitting on the bus hasn't rested me."
Jim guided the two girls up Mr Crowfoot's garden path as he carried most of their shopping; guided them towards the front door which led to the hallway which led to... the room.
Mr Crowfoot was delighted. Was his usual absolutely charming self, had them sitting in his front room in big comfortable chairs as he fussed away at tea and other refreshments.
In the hallway he looked at Jim, "The study?
"Rather thought we might."
The old boy grinned. "Just what the doctor ordered. Just indeed!"
Tea and biscuits in the sitting room and then Mr Crowfoot casually mentioned he had set out a spot of lunch in his study just across the hallway. "Another comfortable room. If you don't mind moving across?" Jim offered his hand to help the girls up from their comfortable chairs. What else might he shortly be helping them with?
Was there a sense of menace as the two unsuspecting young women were led to the study? If there was, they seemed not to sense it. Jim did not see it that way at all - a sense of anticipation, rather, a sense of excitement on his part.
There was indeed lunch set out in the study. Mr Crowfoot invited the girls to sit on the Chesterfield. All proceeded just as in the sitting room, the girls talking away until, lunch rather finished, Mr Crowfoot gently changed the subject onto both of their rather obvious pregnancies. All was going well he was pleased to hear. He asked about dates of confinement and then rather out of the blue a most personal question.
"Are you still enjoying sexual relations with your husbands? Have you rather gone off sexual intercourse or has pregnancy had the opposite effect?"
Momentarily surprised Ruth and Kay looked at each other. Not at all the question they might have expected. Clear they thought it a strange question from the old boy. Very personal indeed - but then they answered. Ruth first.
"Mmmm, I don't know about you Kay, but Pete and I... I've wanted to do it more often than usual. Not sure Pete finds me so attractive with this big extended tum, but I want it; want it a lot. Most nights."
Kay nodded, "yes, same for me, fucking like rabbits, me and Gerry, if you'll excuse the French."
Jim nodded as if their answers were the most normal thing to hear. The room was making its magic.
"And how do you do it? I mean Pete and Gerry can hardly lie on top of you what with your, um, lovely rounded tummies."
Again, the girls looked at each other. "Best from behind, really," said Ruth. Kay nodded.
"Nothing lovely about my big fat tum. Easiest on all fours. Of course, that means my tummy is even more extended. Hanging there. Best then with the light off so Gerry can't see."
"Why?" Asked Mr Crowfoot. "You both look most delightful in your state of evident fecundity."
Jim smiled again at Mr Crowfoot's phraseology. He was good with words.
Both women held their 'bumps.' "You're a dear old gentleman to say so but these don't really look anything like that; just so unsightly."
