The Second Hand Man
December 13th, 1968

Friday the13th has turned out to be a very lucky day for me! Wrestling is definitely myfavorite spectator sport.

It’s hard tobelieve that I had been so reluctant, at first, to participate!

My father’swork gave their End-of-Year/Christmas Party tonight. The annual event was…is alwaysheld in the main hall of the local golf club, and as always, was for employeesand their spouses only. The invitation had stressed: Please, no children!

This hadsuited me just fine as it had given Hannah and I the opportunity to have ourown little party!

Tonight wasthe fifth time that Hannah and I have made love.

It’sdifficult to believe that she was once the frightened girl who I had coercedinto my bed on that first night.

After we hadfinished, I rolled over onto my back next to her.

I thought Ihad kicked the habit completely, but I felt a tremendous urge to light up acigarette.

I did thenext best thing – I reached into the top draw of my bedside table and retrievedtwo sticks of bubble gum.

We lay therefor the longest time, staring at the ceiling. The silence was occasionallybroken by the snapping sound of a bursting bubble.

Hannahfinally spoke. “I feel so guilty, Connie.” She always used the same nicknamefor me that my mother used. It made me slightly uncomfortable, as if she stillviewed me as a child as well.

“I thought wehad already discussed this. I thought you would have come to terms with the…”

“No,” shesaid turning on her side and putting her hand on my chest. “I’m not feelingguilty about what we do.” I gave her an accusing glare. She emphasized, “No,really!”

“Then what?”

“You have noidea how happy it makes me feel when your mother phones for me to come over tobabysit.” She paused in thought for a moment before saying, “It’s kinda stupidto call it babysitting. How old are you now?”

I purposelyavoided telling her my physical age and replied, “I told you that those tests Itook say I got the mentality of a twenty–year-old. That’s why I’m in a specialclass at school, remember?”

“Oh, yeah!”She deliberated some more then added, “Do you realize that makes you about thesame age as me. Even older!”

“I hadn’tthought of it like that before,” I unflinchingly lied.

“Yeah! Did Itell you that I also went to a special class at school?”

“Yes, youdid.”

“Oh, yeah.Only, it was because I was stupid?”

“They toldyou that it was for being stupid?”

“No, theteachers were all very kind. They…”

“So, who saidyou were stupid, then?” She seemed reluctant to answer. I raised my voice.“Who, Hannah?”

“A lot of thekids from the other classes…and also…” She paused.

“And whoalso?”

Her eyesbecame watery as she answered, “Poppa.”

“Your fathercalled you stupid?”

She sniffedand nodded. “Momma says I ain’t stupid – just a little slow.”

“I know! Andthat’s the God’s honest truth! Nobody has the right to call anybody else stupid– and really mean it.”

“It’s okay; Iknow he doesn’t mean it. It’s only when Momma and I make him really angry thathe says some nasty things. Once he and momma were having a real bad argument. Iwas so scared when they started breaking things. Then he told momma that Iprobably wasn’t his, and that if he had his way he’d have me sterilized.”

“What?” Iasked feeling the bile rise in my throat. “Do you know what that means?”

“Uh-huh, itmeans I can never have children. He said he doesn’t want to be grandfather to abunch of drooling retards.”

I exploded.“Your father’s a fucking monster!”

She sat up,stunned and highly upset. “Don’t you bad mouth my Poppa, Connie Crane! You takethat back, you hear? You take that back, right now!”

“I’m sorry!”I said quickly. “I’m really sorry, Hannah. It’s just that…”

“It’s okay,Connie. I forgive you.” She suddenly leaned over and kissed me on my mouth.

“What wasthat for?”

“Because Ilove you.” Then she swiftly added, “It’s okay, you don’t have to say you loveme back. I just wish…” She stopped and smiled.

“What? Whatdo you wish?”

“How come wenever kiss when we do it? None of the guys I been with ever kissed me either. Iwant to kiss like the people in the movies.” She mimicked a Hollywood embrace,holding a phantom lover in her arms. “I want to be held and kissed all romanticlike.”

“It’sdifficult to kiss you when your tits are smothering me to death.” We bothlaughed before I queried, “You were still telling me why you feel guilty?”

“Well, everytime I come here to babysit, I have the greatest time. In fact I wish yourmother needed me to come over more often.”

“You haveabsolutely no idea how much I wish for that very same thing myself.” We laughedsome more.

“So, I feelkinda bad every time your mother pays me for having such a great time.”

“That’s thereason?”

She nodded,“It’s like going to the fair and someone pays you to go on the rides.” Ilaughed, but she said seriously, “No…really! It’s just so great coming overhere! I mean, gee whiz, the Johnson kids are a bunch of noisy brats who driveme crazy when I gotta babysit there. At least, with them, I feel I earned mypay for the night.” I laughed some more before she asked, “How come your motherneeds a babysitter for you if you’re like twenty years old already?”

“I guessshe’s probably worried that I might try to get up to mischief.” We stared ateach other for a moment before we both broke into fits of laughter. We laughedtill the tears ran down our cheeks.

“Have I toldyou what I’m going to do with all the money I’m saving up?”

“What?” Iasked naively.

“You knowthat pawn shop in town with the big clock in front?”

“Fry’s SecondChances?”

“Uh-huh! Wellit’s got this big music box in the window. It’s the most beautiful thing I’veever seen. Mr. Fry sometimes let’s me wind it up to watch the ballerina dance.He always tells me to be careful not to overwind it because it might break.”

“Ballerina?”

“There’s thisballerina in the box who dances while the music plays.”

“What music?What tune does it play?”

“It’s by someguy who sounds like a Chinaman with a sore throat.”

“What?”

“Mr. Fry sayshe thinks it’s from Swan Lake.”

“Tchaikovsky?”

“That’s theone!”

“Uh-huh! Wow,that must really be a big music box if you can keep a ballet dancer inside it.Where does she sleep and eat? Is there a bed and…”

“It’s not areal person, silly.” I laughed and she shoved me. “Oh, Connie Crane, you’rejust teasing me again.” She smiled down at me. “You’re such a great guy,Connie.”

“Lie back.”

“Why?”

“I’m going tokiss you romantically.”

“Yeah?” shesaid flopping backwards.

I moved herhair aside. “Yeah, on your neck.”

“Just don’tgive me a hickey, okay? That’s how Poppa found out the first time.”

“No hickeys,”I said burying my face in the side of her neck. “I promise.” I sniffed herskin. “No perfume?”

“Poppa saysonly whore’s wear perfume. Perfume and painted toenails.”

I started to kiss her neck, working my wayslowly up towards her ear. “Ooh-hoo!” she moaned. “You’re making my skin go allgoose-pimply.”

“Whatsamatter,”I whispered into her ear. “Don’t you like it?”

“It’s kindaticklish!” she giggled.

“Ticklish? I’m trying to be romantic here.” Then I put on my best BelaLugosi accent. “‘Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make.’”I breathed warmly against her tender, quivering flesh. “Come, my dear, I yustvant a liddle bit of your blud.” Then I lightly bit her.

She squealedand bolted upright. She rushed off to put on the light, and then went over tothe full-length mirror that was mounted on the middle section of my cupboard.“You promised - no hickeys,” she said studying her neck.”

“Don’t vorry,my dear. Zat pretty little neck of yours, von’t be marked.”

“Stop talkinglike that. You’re giving me the heebie-jeebies. I’ll have nightmares for a week.”She studied her naked form in the mirror. Turning from side to side. “I lovethis mirror of yours. We don’t have such a long one in our house. I can see mywhole body at once.”

We had alwaysmade love by the light that came from the livingroom. I squinted as my eyesadjusted to the brightness. She had a marvelous figure. Her hips were afraction too wide with a hint of cellulite, but this only added to the allure.The little bit of extra weight she carried had helped to form some strongmuscular lines along her thighs and calves. Her long ash-blonde hair fellsensually down to the hollow above her firm, dimpled buttocks.

Actually, shelooked magnificent; it was as if Boticelli's Venus had stepped out of heroyster shell and into my bedroom.

I felt slightlyembarrassed when my eyes met hers in the mirror, and I realized that she hadbeen watching me study her naked body.

I covered myembarrassment by saying, “I love your hair. Why do you always wear it tied up?Look how lovely you look. Why don’t you let it down more?

“Poppa won’tlet me. Anyhow, I’m having it cut off next week.”

“What? No!You mustn’t.”

“Uh-huh,Poppa says he knows this man who makes wigs, and he’s willing to pay reallygood money. Poppa says he’ll let me keep some of the money too.”

“Some? No!”

“Stopfretting! It’ll grow back, silly.”

“What if youhad enough money to buy the music box, would you still cut your hair?”

“Poppa’salready made the appointment. The guy’s coming specially next month on thetrain all the way from Baltimore to get it. Momma says I’ll look like a tomboyfor awhile, but I mustn’t fret ‘cause it’ll soon grow back.”

“How long youbeen growing it.”

“Pretty longI guess. I have cut it a couple of times, but that was just for the splitends.”

“I reallywish you didn’t have to.”

She spoke tome in the mirror. “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

“You’rebeautiful, Hannah. You’re my Venus on a half-shell – you look good enough toeat!”

“Don’t startyour Dracula nonsense again, okay? Rather go make yourself a peanut butter andjelly sandwich.” When I had finished laughing she spoke with a tone ofauthority and confidence, “What’s so funny Mr. Crane? I mean it.” I laughedeven louder and then she spread her arms and twirled. “When I was a little girlI wanted to be a ballerina. My momma was gonna buy me this beautiful, frillypink tutu, but Poppa said it was just a waste of money.” She put her arms aboveher head and continued to turn round and round whilst watching herself in themirror.

It was hardto believe this naked vision of beauty was the shy, reserved girl who wentthrough life looking like a frightened puppy. It was as if the dull caterpillarwas gone and a vibrantly beautiful butterfly had emerged from the cocoon.

“Careful!” Ismiled. “You’re going to make yourself throw up.”

She stoppedspinning and came to a halt facing me, her large breasts swayed on for aninstant, bobbing gently.

She suddenlyrealized something, “I always felt uncomfortable when I was naked in front ofthe other guys I been with, but not with you. I don’t feel that way with you atall. Why do you suppose that is?” I shook my head. She stretched her arms wideagain. “You make me feel…free! Free like a bird.” She started twirling again.“Free…free…free…freeee.” Then suddenly she jumped onto the bed next to me.Sitting on her knees, she looked me intently in the eyes and said excitedly,“Let’s wrestle!” It was a command not a query.

“What?” Isaid totally taken aback.

“Come on,let’s wrestle! It’s great fun! Ruth and I used to wrestle all the time when shewas still with us.”

“Who’s Ruth?”I asked in the hope of leading the subject elsewhere.

“I alreadytold you. My older sister. Let’s wrestle!”

“I never knew you had…”

“Yeah, shegot married in ‘64 and moved to Philly with her husband. They got two cutekids. Come on, let’s wrestle!”

Hannah wasmost determined, so I addressed the subject head on. “Nah, that’s silly!”

“Is not!” shesaid jabbing me in the ribs. “Come on! Wrestle!”

“Stop that!Is too!”

“Is not!”There was another jab. “Come on! Wrestle!”

“Stop that!”

“Why, are youticklish?” she asked starting to tickle me.

As ayoungster I was terribly ticklish, and only remembered that fact now. “Wait!Wait! Wait!” I shouted wriggling around. “Alright, but no more tickling.”

She added,“And no more biting either! Or pinching or scratching!”

“Deal!” Isaid holding out a hand. We shook. Then I looked past her shoulder towards thedoor and said with a shocked expression, “Ma! What are you doing home soearly?”

As Hannahturned to look, I launched myself forward placing her in a necklock.

“You sneakylittle cheat,” she said struggling to get free.

“I hadda dosomething. You’re much bigger and stronger than me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

She was quitesupple and managed to get her legs behind her head and lock around my neck. Shepulled me forward and I fell, head-first, into her lap.

In my firstlife I had outbid a bunch of other spectators to get into a ring with twofemale mud-wrestlers. It was great fun and sensually stimulating (The followingday I was still replaceing mud in the strangest places), but there is somethingabout wresting with a giant naked female that words cannot describe or besurpassed when it comes to a most fulfilling erotic experience.

Hannah wasfar stronger than me, and after a lot of wriggling and struggling all over thebed, she finally pinned my arms down with her knees, my head locked between herlarge strong thighs. I was in wrestle-heaven!

She quicklycounted to 10 before jumping off, declaring herself the winner and doing avictory lap around my room.

“Oh, no!” Ishouted raising my dispute. “You counted too fast!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Fine!” shesaid getting back onto the bed. “Let’s go again then!”

“New rule!” Iannounced loudly. “From now on you gotta count to a hundred.”

“Fine!” I gavefar less resistance this time and she soon had me pinned in the same fashion.She started to count fast to hundred.

“Whoa!” camemy muffled voice. “That’s too fast!”

I smiled asshe started to count slowly from 1 again.

Just afterreaching 90 she flew off of me and stood staring at me in shock and disbelief.“Connie? What did you just do?”

“Whatsamatter?”I smiled mischievously. “That wasn’t tickling, pinching, scratching or biting?”

“Well none ofthat allowed either!”

“You sure?”

“Yes, ofcourse! Ee-yew! That wasn’t very… grown-up of you Mister Twenty Year-old!”

“Actually,you’ll be surprised.”

“I was! Inever would have expected that of you? I should put you over my knee and giveyou a good spanking!”

I had smiledeven wider upon requesting, “Promise?”

“What?”

“Forget it!Hey, we still don’t have a winner yet? Come on, now!”

She narrowedher eyes at me. “Okay, but no more cheating of any sort!”

At the end of100 she beat her magnificent chest like a gorilla and said, “What do you saynow, Mr. Dracula? King Kong beat you real good! Wah-hoo!”

I neverdreamed that losing could be so much fun!

After anothervictory lap she leaped onto the bed and breathlessly admitted, “I feel likedoing it again!”

“Alright,” Isaid. “But this time you won’t be so lucky.”

“No, I’m nottalking about wrestling, silly,” she said lying down on her back and spreadingher legs. “Come on!”

“You’rewearing me out,” I lamented. “You’re gonna make me old before my time.”

“Come on,”she demanded. “Or do you rather want me to tickle you again?”

I movedbetween her legs and gazed down with a look of concern.

“Very well,Miss Hannah,” I said releasing a long sigh. “I’ll do my very best.”