Chapter 8
"I have secured the services of a cleaner. I thought at my age..."
"Sensible," said Jim and then the penny dropped. He looked sideways at Mr Crowfoot, "She wouldn't by any chance not be some old woman in headscarf who has been cleaning for years and years, fag hanging out of the corner of her mouth, but rather a young and pretty girl?"
Mr Crowfoot gave a rather conspiratorial smile. "I'm sure you'll find out in good time."
And, indeed, Jim did. One morning not many days later he was standing at his window and saw a young girl bicycle up to Mr Crowfoot's gate and wheel the machine in. Standing there he felt his penis rise as he shook his head at the naughtiness or rather badness of his aged friend across the way. Not only was the girl young but she was as black as black could be. Of course, Jim had seen pictures of naked black girls in his suspect magazines but... Such girls were not commonplace in the area. Perhaps work was not easy to come by.
Had Mr Crowfoot already been playing his games with her? Had he waited until she had settled into a routine of cleaning the house, dusting and washing -- given her a few days to become used to the house - before settling himself down in that special room, seated at his desk, until she entered to begin cleaning and then making the sort of suggestions Jim knew he would make? Suggestions she would not be able to do anything with but comply. Had he waited for her to become used to the house or not? Perhaps beginning with the comparatively innocent suggestion she dusted the room naked so as not to mess up her clothes before moving to the rather more direct request that, whilst she was polishing the brass or the silver, she polished his knob as well.
The thought of seeing the young girl naked more than appealed to Jim. The thought of contrasting his pale skin with her exotic blackness arousing. The thought of, no doubt, black as anything curls down below, more than enough to bring his penis to attention. Was she perhaps a virgin, completely unused to anything to do with penises? Surely his friend would invite him around to 'sample' his new 'acquisition.'
Jim stood there looking at the now closed door over the road. So annoying he had to go to work and not casually walk across the street to visit his old friend, take a cup of coffee with him and just happen to ask about Mr Crowfoot's new cleaner -- and very much hope much would be revealed; not least the young girl's naked body. And so it was not that day, nor the next but the one after Jim could not contain himself any longer. He would be late for work.
"Well, tell me," he commanded as he sat with Mr Crowfoot drinking coffee. The man had said nothing about his new cleaner. Surely, he must know Jim was more than intrigued. Mr Crowfoot sat there looking as innocent as anything.
"About what Jim?"
"Your new cleaner -- I've seen her across the street."
"Have you now?"
"Well, have you?"
"Have I what?"
Jim looked more than exasperated and it caused Mr Crowfoot to burst into laughter. "Of course, I have, Jim. I was wondering when your curiosity would get the better of you."
"You've fucked her? Was she a virgin?"
"She certainly thinks she is. Very virginal. Thinks she's never seen a cock, still less sucked one. But of course..."
"Not on the Pill then?"
"No, Jim, it'll have to be rubber time for you again. Me of course... well, somewhat different."
"And she remembers nothing?"
"Each time she comes in as innocent as anything with her duster." He chuckled. "It is such a pleasure. Just seeing her in nothing... but her yellow duster."
And as if on cue there was a knock at the study door.
"I didn't realise you had company. I'll come back later." The young girl turned as if to leave the study, duster in hand. But that was not to be. Was just not going to happen, not with both Mr Crowfoot and his apprentice looking up with such interest.
"No, no, carry on."
Jim could not help staring. A tall girl, very pretty in a different way to the prettiness he was used to; a woman from people used to a different climate from England; a people perhaps at one time used to going around under the hot sun naked. He could but admire the deep brown, almost black of her skin. It seemed to shine with health. Even across the room he could see her eyes were hazel brown, her teeth so white, showing between wonderfully generous lips. He even caught a glimpse of pink tongue.
Naked under the hot sun maybe but not in Mr Crowfoot's study. A very neatly and conservatively dressed young woman. White blouse, black knee length skirt and sensible black shoes. Perhaps she thought it an appropriate uniform for cleaning a clearly respectable aged gentleman's large house. Perhaps her mother thought that.
Of course, the conversation had to change. The men could hardly discuss the young girl's attributes with her now in the room. Well, actually they could given the room's properties but Jim was certainly leaving any first move up to Mr Crowfoot. The old boy talked away about other things. His collections, whether he should have the house redecorated and asking about Jim's work (and about Sophie and Jenny).
An unexpected squeak, a gasp from the otherwise silent girl. Both men looked and saw the girl standing stock still be the cabinet with Mr Crowfoot's dildo collection.
"It's just my collection, Annette, handle them carefully when you dust them. Some are a little fragile, others very solid but it would not do to drop them however hard they might seem."
The girl's hand was to her mouth. "But... but... but, they're..."
"Artificial penises, Annette, representations of the erect male sexual organ for personal female gratification. Surely you have one at home for bedtime."
"No, no..." Both hands were to her mouth now.
"Some are very realistic. Beautifully carved. Some quite valuable so take care."
"I've never seen..."
Mr Crowfoot got up and went to her. He put his arm around her shoulder. "Never seen what, Annette?"
"A man's... you know... thing."
"You're a virgin?"
