“Anything you want, Jeannie, is all right by me,” I told her, holding my hands out to take both of hers warmly. “Just let me know what you want, and I'm with you all the way.”

“Well, I think you would like to see me all bare, wouldn't you?” she asked pertly, wiggling her thin little hips and bottom in a burlesque of the sinuous movements of a grown woman trying to be seductive. “So why don't I take off my clothes now, and then afterwards I can help you get undressed. When we are both all bare naked, I'm sure we can find lots of fun-things to do with each other.”

With these direct childish words, Jeannie sat down on the chair by her dressing-table, more or less facing me, and began to take off her saddle-shoes and socks. As she spread her plump thighs to get at the laces, my eyes pierced up into the shadows beneath her little flannel skirt and I could see a streak of white panties at the top. As she tugged the shoe and sock off her little foot, there was no question that I had glimpsed the dainty covering of the cute little pussy I was soon to be playing with, for the alleged amusement of both of us. And again as the other shoe and sock came off, I caught another glimpse of the tantalizing white barrier at the top of her little thighs.

Now she stood up and with the half-clumsy, half-grace of a child, she peeled off the tight white sweater which had clasped her cylindrical, unformed chest, flipping it over her head and tossing it on the desk, with a sideways shake of her alert head to resettle her page-boy hair-do. She wore a white silk slip, decorated with fine white lace, and now she quickly unfastened the waist of her gray flannel skirt, running the zipper down the side. The garment fell at her feet, and she gaily kicked it to the desk beside her sweater.