Chapter Four

She must be hallucinating. Robert wanted her to shave her pussy. Did all men fancy barbered pusses? Did older men like shaved pusses? Her father did. At least Kelli thought he did. Sally James had a shaved pussy. Perhaps she should do as John Thompson wanted and get her pubic hair shaved off.

Kelli understood that men are swine, but if a girl had to wallow in a pig sty, she needed rules and principles for survival. As accurately as reading palms, she thumbed through her standards. Males could essentially be ranked according their smiles and the way they esteemed women. For example, her class mate, Billy Evans, was very handsome with a perfectly shaped nose and blond hair, but would be forever ranked near the bottom on her popular list because he had difficulty with eye contact. Another who ranked low was Michael Franconia. He made good eye contact, but had a nearly nonexistent smile, and, besides, everyone knew Italians are crooks.

Kelli steered clear of jocks because they are usually egotistical bastards. Still she had encouraged David Harper, a big burly left tackle on the high school football team, to feel her up and even gave him a hand job because he had asked politely. She had also broken the rule about dating jocks by going steady with Robert, who pitched baseball. She evoked an image of them wound tightly together last spring beneath the branches of the old oak “make-out” tree in Central Park. She purposely had teased him until he finally pushed her down on the green grass, removed her panties, fumbled with his zipper and shoved his cock, hard and deep, up inside her body. Virgins are supposed to feel pain, Kelli had read somewhere, but she could recall only the smallest discomfort.

High ranking males, like Robert Cooperman, another of her classmates, processed great smiles and looked at faces and not breasts. There were examples of other boys, other athletes, and of older men like her father who were worthy of consideration despite their smiles or the way treated women. One was her homeroom teacher. Mr. Gordon had hard penetrating eyes and even though he was married, Kelli would have served him jubilantly, gone off with him in an instant. Once she observed him flirting with Karen Worth, and had also watched his eyes wander across that slut’s tits which were not nearly as pronounced as her own. Karen was a blondish girl with light skin and freckles. Kelli hated her. She wished Mr. Gordon would ogle her tits like he ogled Karen’s. Men are not as easily manipulated as boys, however, and she had lost that flirtation.

Then there was John Thompson. He probably played sports as a youth. She had covertly observed him checking out her chest when the conductor first introduced them and he had penetrating eyes similar to Mr. Gordon’s. She knew without a doubt of mind, he could subjugate women as easily as snapping his fingers. She wondered if her father had this ability. Sally was a girl who submitted. It would be easy to submit to John Thompson. Kelli guessed she wasn’t much different than Sally.

From cob- webbed distance, she recalled hushed voices.

“Thank you, Charles. And not tonight. And perhaps tomorrow, Promus.”

She could have sworn she heard a door close. Then she felt Thompson shaking her shoulder and forcing her awake.

“Are you alright, Miss Stapleton?”

Her m