5 - Exposures

This is the fifth in a series of chapters or episodes that tell the love story of a woman of thirty, her ten-year-old son, and a boy of fifteen, and their adventures together. It deals with adult-youth sex, same-gender sex, and incest. Don’t bother if you’re not into that kind of thing. In this chapter, we learn how Keira lost her virginity at the age of eleven, going to bed with the first of many teen boys, beginning a lifelong quest for the ultimate lover — found, at last and improbably, in her affair with Glenn.

Glenn returned home that evening, his cock aching and his back a little sore. He was amazed that he wasn’t dehydrated as well. In all, he had made love to Keira eight times since last night, cumming in her pussy each time, and he’d shot two more loads down her throat. For a kid who’d been a total virgin only twenty-four hours earlier, he figured that was pretty good. He’d felt a little guilty about neglecting Denny for most of the day, but the boy didn’t seem to mind. Keira was right; he understood a lot, and Glenn did too now.

His lover had told him about her son’s affair with his teenaged babysitter, having sex for the first time when he’d been only eight years old. He’d been surprised to learn about it, but he didn’t think Denny saw it in quite the same way as his mother did. She had other surprises in store for him as well; it had been an afternoon of revelations.

She’d begun the story after their first 69, when they’d both tasted and pleased each other so long and so well. She’d worked his cock for a long, heavenly time, licking and sucking him while he buried his tongue in her beautiful pussy. They were both fully comfortable now in their sex lives together, begun only the night before, and made love how and when they wanted.

This time was exquisite. Keira gave great head, and she tasted so good. The full knowledge that they were pleasuring each other deeply made it a glorious motion of mutual joy. He sipped at her nectar more and more while she worked him up, and when he’d given her his fluid she held it in her mouth for a while before swallowing, just like that morning, when he’d woken to the first BJ in his life.

When they had both found satisfaction she snuggled up to him, so near that her pubic hair tickled his hip. “I guess you aren’t worried too much about age differences,” she said. He smelled his cum on her breath.

“But I’m older than you, honey. Don’t you want some tight young girl instead?” He snorted. “Okay,” she laughed, and nuzzled him. “All right. I think I can handle being the woman of your dreams.”

“Oh Jesus I love you.” She propped herself up beside him and cupped his cock in her hand. She loved touching him. She loved being able to touch him. “I know the laws don’t make sense to you, especially after what we’ve been doing, but they’re there for a reason. It’s to keep kids who are too young to fool around from getting hurt. Abused.”

“Yeah, I know it,” he sighed. He admired her lovely, full breasts, so good to see and feel and kiss. “But I’m not too young, and I sure as hell ain’t been abused.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” She fell silent, pensive, her fingers absently toying with his big warm balls. “Glenn … I’ve had some … firsthand experience with why those laws are there.” He lay silent beside her, his face relaxed. He was waiting for her to decide how to go on, not pushing her, letting her get it out in her own time and in her own way. She sighed. “Denny’s not a virgin, honey.”

She was shaking her head. “It wasn’t a man, Glenn, and I … I really doubt it was rape. It was just … improper, I guess.” She took a breath. “It happened when we were still living up in Cliveston. The girl was fourteen, she was his babysitter, and Denny … he was eight.” Glenn let out a low whistle. “Yeah. I don’t really know why she started it, but she did. I came home one night, and … I guess it had been going on a while by then. At first Denny told me it was just the one time, but I didn’t believe him. The girl — Rose was her name — she said it had happened a little more often than that, maybe a few times, but I didn’t believe her either.

She nodded. “I didn’t … see it actually happening. I had the same shifts I do now, so Rose spent the night two or three times a week, and most afternoons too. After it … started, I guess they pretty much went for it every time they were alone together. On the overnights, she even stayed with him, in his bed, when they were done making love.”

“Yeah, it was. They did … everything a boy and a girl can do with each other, you know, manual and oral, and … you know, fucking, lots of that I guess … and they slept together all the time.” She shrugged. “That was how I found out. I got off a little early one night. I wasn’t feeling too well, and I only worked half the shift. It was too late for me to call, so I just went home. I figured I’d let Rose sleep the rest of the night on the couch, pay her the full rate the next day.”

“Yeah. Well, she wasn’t on the couch when I got there, but her clothes were.” She looked into Glenn’s eyes. “And so were Denny’s PJs.” Glenn nodded. He knew where this was probably going next. “So I went down the hall, and his bedroom door was open, and I looked in and … and there they were.

“She was — she was on her back, asleep, and he was … on top of her. Sleeping too. They were both sweaty, fast asleep on top of the covers, and they were … they were naked. My little boy was lying naked on top of a teenaged girl.”

Glenn nodded again. He knew there could be no doubt about what they’d been doing. On one hand he marveled a little; if he’d been eight and some teen girl had started screwing him, he would probably have been okay with it, maybe a little freaked out at first — but goddamned happy in the end. Part of him really admired Denny, the randy little stud. On the other hand, he felt for Keira and how it must have been for her to get home, feeling like shit, and discover that her young son had been putting it to the babysitter. “So … what happened? I mean what did you do?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I … I didn’t know what to do. I mean I just went totally numb. I guess I was in shock. I just pulled the door shut, and went to bed, and I cried and cried and cried.” She was doing it now, a little, and he murmured to her and wiped her tears away. She gave him a wet smile. “Thanks, lover. I’m all right.

“They both knew they were discovered the next morning. They’d left the door open, and now it was closed, and all of their clothes were still in the living room, and I was up before they were. I’d caught them red-handed … well, red-somethinged anyhow … and they didn’t try to bareface about it. Denny told his version of the story after Rose left — she just slunk away and didn’t even meet my eyes the whole time — and then I went to her house and confronted her, and got her version.

“They both agreed on one point, that she’d been the one to start it, and Glenn, I’ve never seen anyone so terrified. She was sure I’d call the police and have her thrown in jail, and I almost wanted to threaten her with that, but the fact is that what they’d done … it wasn’t illegal. Or at least it wasn’t likely to be punishable. They were both under the age of consent, but as minors, well, there probably wouldn’t be any real way to prosecute. I had no proof, and all they’d have to do was deny it. I didn’t want to make Denny a liar, but I guess I could’ve reported it anyway, maybe made her life hell for it, but…

“What stopped me was Denny. He was too young to be fucking, and he was too young to know it. He hadn’t learned about adult hang-ups, hadn’t learned yet that some people believe sex is shameful in most circumstances, let alone in his with Rose.

“And the fact is that he loved her. He wasn’t in love with her, not like happens later when the hormones start, but she was a friend to him, she’d always been nice to him, and the … the physical things they’d done … he’d enjoyed them. A lot.

“I guess she did too. I mean, I don’t really think she was using him for her own … her own perversions; from what Denny told me, they’d actually been making love, not getting into anything kinky or weird. She hadn’t led him down any outrageous paths. She’d just been … enjoying herself with him — in a way that really wasn’t appropriate with a boy his age — but it was truly affectionate. I think she was torn a little, feeling guilty about the things she was doing with him, but at the same time unable to stop herself.

“So I thought I had to walk a careful line. I had to try to make him understand that … that some things are better to wait for until you’re older, and that he couldn’t see Rose any more, without making him feel guilty about himself or his body or the way he’d used it with that girl. In the end it hurt him pretty badly, and I wasn’t too fond of Cliveston anyway, so I took what little savings I’d been scratching together, found this house, bought it, and here we are now.

“Mostly I just wanted a change of scene. I wanted Denny to be somewhere that had … I don’t know, maybe better values. And I wanted to be as far from Cliveston and Rose as I could be. I was afraid I’d say something to her, maybe, or that if it kept irritating me I’d end up saying something to Denny, something that might do permanent damage.

“And I guess I was afraid that they’d get back together again. I know — better than a lot of people — that if a boy and girl want to have sex, they’re going to do it, and to hell with anyone who says otherwise. As bad as it bothered me to think of them having sex in my home, it was even worse to imagine them sneaking out and doing it somewhere where they could get caught, like in a park or something. Caught, or worse … maybe videotaped, maybe even kidnapped and … and…” She shuddered.

“I think I get it,” Glenn said. Denny would have been terribly vulnerable out in the open like that, and he didn’t imagine a teen girl would be much good against a really dedicated attacker. Even a video would be bad, shared on some peer-to-peer network and watched by thousands of pedos all over the world. He loved Denny, and hated the idea of some random guy beating off to movies of him. “But it musta been rough.”

“It was. Denny hardly said two words to me for months.” She sighed. “I’d given up entirely on men by the time I moved here, and figured I could last out the next few years with Denny, until he was in his teens and maybe ready to start things properly with another girl, but then I got to know you, and…”

“Well I am, and it ain’t. I started jacking off when I was ten, and from then on I think I was probably ready. I mean if some girl had … like done something with me, I guess it might’ve spooked me a little at first; but I already knew what a girl had by the time I was in fifth grade, and I knew what I had too, and I sorta knew how it all fit together, and I sorta wanted to try it out. So … yeah, it woulda spooked me, but I probably woulda done it anyhow.”

Glenn knew he’d stumbled into a minefield. He became so intent on choosing the right words that his grammar paid the price. “I didn’t say that. It ain’t my place to tell you how to raise up Den, and I know it. All’s I’m sayin’ is that it weren’t too soon for me to be with you. You didn’t do nothin’ that was wrong nor bad, no matter what the laws say. I love you, Keira, and I know I’m gonna marry you someday. It ain’t the same as what that girl done with Den.”

“Oh.” He thought about that. “I … I guess I woulda had a talk with him about … well, I mighta talked with her about…” He shook his head. “Shit, I don’t know. I mean I’m still pretty new at it myself.” He was. He’d just had the very best night of his life; he was in love with Keira, and sex with her was fantastic. It was all so fresh and wonderful that he still couldn’t see any of it objectively. How could he tell any boy not to do the one thing that really made his heart sing, apart from his art?

“Well, these are the kinds of things you’ll have to deal with one day, when you’re his — when you’re a father. It might be something for you to ponder from time to time.”

He nodded at her wisdom. “But I think you’re right. Eight is probably too young for something that big. He’s probably still too young for it now.” At least he wouldn’t have to worry about getting anyone pregnant, he didn’t add.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “That’s the word. It’s — sex is big. Or it can be. Maybe it’s just because of how we are, in the world today, or maybe it’s always been like that. And if you’re too young to handle it, or too inexperienced in life, it can…”

“Yes. It can get very intense, very fast. It can be overwhelming. You said something just now, though. You said you’d … started masturbating when you were ten?”

“Not to porn,” Keira said. “At least not back then. Maybe now, assuming he needs it. His memories might be enough. Back then, I think it was just a … a diversion, a pastime, something he did because it felt good, not because he associated it with sex. He didn’t make that connection until after he slept with Rose.”

“I always thought so, but I never said anything to him about it, except telling him to keep it private.” She let out a dry laugh. “Obviously that didn’t happen.”

“No. Until the first time, he’d never exposed himself to her. That’s what he told me, and it’s what she said too, and I believe that. Denny’s never been especially shy about his body, but back then his nakedness wasn’t sexualized, and he always wore some kind of clothes in front of anyone else but me. He didn’t try to seduce her, even in some kind of half-innocent way. It started with her offering to give him head one night, I guess just out of the blue, and him saying yes.”

“Uh-huh. He told me he just wanted to know what it was. And she showed him, that and a lot more. Everything else. It was the first time she slept in his bed with him. He went from being a virgin to getting a BJ to having full-on intercourse in less than an hour, and from what I understand, he tried doing oral sex himself the next morning.”

“You admire him.” He started to protest, but she shook her head. “Never mind. I guess it looks different to you. Maybe because you’re a boy yourself; I know standards are different for boys, or maybe it’s because you’re not his … I mean, not yet.” She took a breath. “Maybe his comfort with his body and with masturbation was part of the reason it all happened, I mean he wouldn’t have been new to the idea of … erections, or of how it felt to, uh, come … or maybe he…”

“Well, maybe he got it from me.” She nestled up to him, resting her head on his chest. She was settling in for a long story, he realized. “I never knew my parents. I was in foster homes most of my life.”

“Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He was. His parents were sometimes hard with their rules, but they were a source of unconditional love, and they’d sustained him all his life — even in his pursuit of something so impractical as art. He couldn’t imagine life without them, their rock-solid faith in him. He knew a lot of kids who persistently fought with their folks, who chafed incessantly under their demands. His parents were rigid sometimes in their expectations, but he knew he was lucky to have them in his life. Even on his worst days with them, he always went to bed under their roof knowing that they cared for him. “That’s … really hard.”

“Thank you,” she sighed. “It was. My mother was fourteen when she had me, and I understand my father wasn’t much older than that. He was in high school, anyway. They started making love when she was twelve and he got her pregnant at thirteen; but from what I’ve been told, he wasn’t her first, and I was told…”

“Oh,” he said. He blinked at her. Keira — his lover, mother to a boy he adored — was a child of incest, the product of a forbidden union between siblings. He knew brothers and sisters got it on sometimes, maybe even had kids together, but he’d always heard that their offspring ended up retarded or something like that. Obviously, that wasn’t necessarily true. It was a shock, but there was something about it that he found a little titillating.

He didn’t hesitate in his response, something she would always love him for. He took her hand and clasped it tightly. “No. I don’t care. It don’t matter. You’re as God and … and your parents made you, and I love you no matter what. I guess … I guess those kinds of things happen sometimes, but it just don’t matter to me.”

“Right. They couldn’t keep me, whether or not they wanted to. I don’t know if it messed me up — I’m sure it must have, somehow — but I’m too close to my own head to really see what’s going on inside it. I don’t know if it runs in my blood, or if it’s just coincidence.”

Her seventh foster home was like so many of the others. She was the interloper, the odd one out, the undesired tag-along whose very presence was a subtle threat to the status of the biological kids. There were two, one younger than she was — Robby, a six-year-old boy — the other his older brother. She was eleven, and the older boy, Kent, was fourteen.

Right away she sensed something different about Kent. It wasn’t anything he said or did; it wasn’t anything overt like trying to spy on her or get her into some kind of trouble. She’d had experiences with that before, and knew the signs. With Kent, it was just the way he looked at her. Sometimes she’d catch him staring at her, his eyes focused on her skinny legs or her little butt. Other times, particularly when she was in her bathing suit, she caught him looking between her thighs, or at her chest, which was still as flat as any boy’s. It made her feel strange. Sometimes it seemed like he wanted to say something to her, but he didn’t know how; and she couldn’t guess what it was.

He was generally fairly nice to her, though, and that was a pleasant change from how it usually was with foster sibs. He wasn’t just acting for the sake of his parents, either — when they weren’t around, he was actually kinder to her. He’d do little things for her like getting her something to drink, or letting her pick the TV shows. He never complained, not even at her girliest of choices. He often had to defend her against his little brother, who whined a lot about having to tolerate three-hour blocks of Smurfs or My Pretty Pony.

Kent’s clothing choices, when they were alone, were also changing. At first he’d just traipse around the house in a tee and shorts, but as she began to settle in and get comfortable, he did too. He took to wearing just shorts after a while, going around barechested, which she didn’t mind very much. She was just old enough to start appreciating a cute boy’s build, and Kent actually was rather cute, a little muscly on his shoulders and chest, with dark black hair under his arms that matched the glossy raven thatch growing on his head. She liked seeing his muscles and even the hair under his arms, but she had no idea why.

After a while, when she’d become comfortable with his shirtlessness, he started wearing nothing but briefs. That made her uneasy, but she couldn’t put her finger on the reason. She got a strange feeling in her belly when he was dressed like that, and for some reason she couldn’t stop blushing, and couldn’t stop looking between his legs. She knew what boys had down there, but it was the first time she’d ever felt anything except eww, gross about it. There was a lump there — actually three lumps — and it was a lot bigger than his snotty little brother’s. It was all so fascinating.

As the weeks went on and she was left in Kent’s charge more and more, things got even weirder. He started not closing the bathroom door all the way when he took showers, and came out with only a towel on his hips. He’d stay like that until it was bedtime, and when he turned in he’d leave the towel in the bathroom and go down the hall, his back to her and his butt in plain sight, and disappear naked into his room.

Keira knew he was pushing a limit there, but she was reluctant to say anything to anyone. This foster home was a good, sweet one, and she didn’t want to do anything to disrupt it. Besides, just as she could appreciate Kent’s bare chest, she was starting to enjoy the sight of his rear. She’d never actually wanted to see a boy naked before, though she had a few times on accident; so why was she so interested now in seeing Kent that way?

She never peeked in on him in the shower, but one night she saw him in bed. He’d left the door halfway open, the room dim but not dark. They’d been up late watching Cinderella — her choice — and when she passed his room he said, “Night, Keira.”

She paused. “Night, Kent.” And then she saw him. He was lying on his stomach in bed, atop the covers, and he was naked. She could see the rise of his shoulders, the dip of his lower back, the curve of his butt. She stood there for a moment, feeling like she should say something more to him. “Uh, sleep good.”

Keira’s mouth went dry, and the funny feeling in her belly flared into a sudden bright warmth. The room was dark, but she could see everything. She could see his whole body, from the front, and Kent knew it. He was letting her look. He wanted her to look.

She saw how big his … how big it was, and that it was sticking out. There was hair around it, black like what grew under his arms, and between his legs his nuts … no, they were too big for that word. They were balls. Between his legs, his balls were showing. She’d never even guessed that a boy’s balls got so big, or his … his… “See you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she squeaked, and went down the hall to her own room, her knees unsteady. She was alarmed at the crazy waves of feeling that were running through her body, at the knowledge she had seen something absolutely forbidden, and especially at the way she’d gone wet Down There. She thought she’d peed her panties, but when she took them off and examined herself, she saw that it wasn’t pee. She didn’t know what it was.

She ran her fingers over herself, smooth and devoid of hair, baffled by the slickness and shivering at the sudden rill that ran up her spine and over her little nipples. She tried it again, and the feeling got stronger. She couldn’t tell if it hurt or if it felt real good, so she did it a few more times, and decided that it felt so good that it almost hurt.

She kept on slipping her fingers up and down between her legs, her mind drifting to what she’d seen, what Kent had let her see. His boy-part, she’d seen his boy-part, all of it. When she thought of how big it was, sticking up like that, with his balls all big and round, the feeling grew so strong that she gasped, rubbing herself fiercely, and her hips twitched up hard. A bright wave of heat ran all through her skin, centered between her legs, and she gasped a second time, then slowed her hand. She didn’t really stop rubbing, and the heat settled down to a nice, warm glow.

She looked down between her legs and gasped a third time, from surprise. The wet … stuff was all over her, on her thighs and belly, and there was even more of it in her girl’s place. She picked up her panties and wiped it off, hoping that it wasn’t pee after all, then changed into her nightshirt and went to bed.

I better not do that again, she thought. It makes wet stuff come out, and I don’t know if it’s pee, but I bet it’s not good. She rolled over onto her stomach, buried her face in the pillow, and drifted off to sleep with that warm feeling lingering in her belly.

The next morning she discovered it wasn’t pee — it was just something that happened when she rubbed her girl’s place, but it was a small price to pay for the return of that good, bright, clear feeling.

From then on, Kent was even nicer to her, and he didn’t try to hide his nakedness from her when he went to bed on the nights his folks were gone. Sometimes he’d even talk to her for a while, keeping her in conversation while he lay on his back, his hand sometimes wandering down to touch his boy-part. It always stuck out, and Keira kept thinking about it whenever she was in her room and playing her wet game. It felt good to think about him, his chest and his butt, his balls and his hair and his…

Always the feeling was so strong, so good and scary at the same time, and it always turned nice and warm after that. She learned that it helped her get to sleep faster, so she started doing it every night, partly because she liked it and partly because it was nice to drift off afterward.

A few weeks later, Kent invited her to sit beside him in bed for a while. He was naked like usual, and she was used to it by now. She didn’t think any more that it was too weird for him to want to talk to her like that, and she didn’t mind being that close to him. He only did it when his folks weren’t around, so she knew it was a secret, but it didn’t feel bad to share this secret with him. It was naughty, and that made it more fun. Besides, it was nice to look at him.

She settled onto the mattress beside him and got a good view of everything, indulging her natural curiosity about how his body was different from hers. He knew she was looking at him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just sat there with his legs spread apart and let her look all she wanted. His boy-thing was real big close up, with a little curve to it. It was pointing almost straight up at his head. At the end there was a red round part, but it wasn’t as big around as his balls.

Right at the bottom, where his thing joined with his body, his black hair made a little fuzzy tuft, thick at the top but thinning to vanish before it got to his balls. She figured the whole thing was as long as her hand, from wrist to fingertips, and his balls were maybe the size of a peach. Everything was a lot bigger than she’d ever seen on a boy before, but those boys had all been much younger, too, so maybe that was why. Maybe a boy’s parts were like a girl’s boobs, something that got bigger when he got older. She didn’t know why he had hair down there either, but she didn’t mind seeing it. She liked the way it looked, a dark little horseshoe wrapping around his thing.

They talked for a while and then Kent put his arm around her shoulders. It surprised her, but she didn’t mind. She liked hugs, and she really liked being hugged by him. “I’m real glad you’re here with us, Keira,” he said.

He laughed nervously, and wriggled his fingers in her ribs. She giggled and fell back on the mattress while he went on tickling her, and he worked his way on top of her and pinned her down. She squirmed, but she didn’t try too hard to get away. His boy-part was sticking out like it always did when he was naked, and she felt it pushing against her girl’s place. The same feeling she got from her wet games rose up suddenly, and the knowledge that she was lying in bed under a naked boy filled her body with powerful, compelling urges that she didn’t understand.

She remembered how Kent liked to touch his part sometimes, and wondered if he played his own wet games in his own way. She thought maybe it would be fun if he rubbed it over her girl’s place, instead of using her fingers, but she would have to be bare for him to do it. So she reached down to her hips.

Kent lifted up a little to see what she was doing, and blinked in surprise when she pushed her panties down. It was the first time she had ever let any boy see her girl’s place on purpose. Her heart was thumping like it was going to pop out of her chest.

He stared into her eyes, swallowed, and moved off of her. She felt scared all of a sudden — had she done something wrong? — but the fear turned to surprise when Kent pulled her panties the rest of the way off, dropped them on the floor, then pushed her legs apart and got between them. He put his hand on his boy-part, pushed it down toward her belly, then rubbed the round red end against her smooth girl’s place. “God,” he sighed. “God that feels good.”

Keira let out a happy little little grunt of surprise. Kent knew about wet games too! And he knew how to play them with a girl, though it was different from her fingers. She’d been wondering what it would feel like just a few moments ago, and now she knew. The round end was warm and rubbery, but she could feel hardness underneath it, and the way he rubbed it against her girl’s place was making her whole body tingle. It was a lot stronger than ever before, and she pushed up against him with a moan, and he stared at her in surprise while that bright hot feeling filled her body.

He rubbed the red end against her again, and she got another dose of that silvery shivery joy. “Yeah,” he nodded, watching the way she moved. “You’re coming.” He sounded excited.

She didn’t know about that, but something in his tone made her believe him. She squirmed out of her tee, unable to take her eyes off of Kent’s body while she bared her flat chest to him. She lay back again, her legs wide open, her heart beating so hard that it showed. Below her belly she saw the little rise her girl’s place made, wet and exposed in front of Kent’s tall boy-part. She felt the warmth of his skin near hers, and shivered. She’d never been completely naked with any boy before, not even on accident, and she knew they were doing something really naughty, but she didn’t want to stop. Maybe Kent knew other ways to play the wet game, ways she hadn’t discovered yet, ways that needed a boy and girl to be naked together. Maybe he was going to show her what those ways were.

“God,” he said when she lay back down before him. He was staring at her girl’s place, at her chest, at her face. “You’re so pretty. You know that? Do you know how pretty you are?”

She giggled nervously. “Thanks.” It made her feel warm deep down inside to hear him say that. No one had ever told her she was pretty before, and besides, Kent was real cute. She was of an age when a girl first becomes susceptible to the charms of a handsome boy, and Kent filled the role nicely.

He was breathing hard, and he moved up a little higher between her legs. She had to spread them wider, lifting her knees to make room for him. She felt his thighs push against hers, the skin firm and warm. He put his hands on her knees and pushed gently, and she opened her legs all the way. He stared down, right at her girl’s place, then looked up into her eyes. She gasped at what happened next.

Kent shifted forward and rubbed his part, all of it, up along her girl’s place. It was warm and ripply with veins, and it was a lot harder than she’d imagined. She felt something warm and yielding press up between her legs, and after a moment she saw his balls come into view. He’d rubbed them against her too. “Oh yeah,” he sighed, his head tilted back. “Oh yeah that feels good.”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded breathlessly. It wasn’t like her fingers at all, but he was right. It really did feel good. He looked down at her and rocked backward, pushing his part down along her girl’s place as he went, until the round end was rubbing her. Then he pushed forward again, and she saw all the wetness on it as it rose up to tower over her quivering belly. Her girl’s place tingled and she wriggled against him. It was like he was tickling her privates, but using his privates to do it. Her eyes went wide at the thought. He’s pushing his privates against mine! We’re touching privates! It was so naughty, and it felt so good. Her hips twitched, and her body flared. “I’m … coming!” she squeaked.

“I know.” Kent kept going back and forth, and Keira’s good feelings kept coming. Coming, she thought, that’s why they call it that. It keeps coming. I keep coming. He rubbed up against her, faster and harder, then looked her in the face. “Don’t freak out,” he gasped.

“Why?” she panted, and then her eyes just about popped out of her head. Kent’s boy-part suddenly felt like it was made of steel, and he pushed hard against her and that great feeling went all through her again — and then something squirted out of him.

It shot right up in the air, then spattered all over her belly. It was warm and thick, and it looked like milk. More squirted out when he pushed up again, and this time it flew to land on her chest. It was the weirdest thing she’d ever seen, but what was even weirder was how it made her feel, how it turned the bright shiny goodness into something even bigger and brighter and better.

She squealed and wriggled against him, and he kept on squirting it out. He did it eight more times before he stopped, but he kept rubbing against her even after nothing else came out. Came. There it was again. “Did you … come?”

Keira giggled at his naughty language, then looked down to study her naked body. She gasped. From her chest to her belly button, there were thick ropy streaks everywhere, shiny and white, and it had all come out of Kent. It was kind of gross, but … but not really. “What is that? Did you pee or something?”

“No. It’s, uh … it’s not pee,” he said, still rubbing on her girl’s place with his boy-thing. It wasn’t sticking out as much as before, but it still felt pretty hard. “You know how you get wet when you do it?”

“Okay. Well, when a boy comes, this is what happens.” He gestured to the creamy streaks and pools that lay on her skin. “You get wet, I … get wet too, sort of.”

“Does it look like pee?” Kent asked, then got up to dig a shirt out of his laundry basket. His boy-thing hung down in front of him, long and curved over his balls. Some of the white stuff was dripping off the end, slow and thick like syrup. She wondered if it tasted sweet, then wondered why she wondered that. No way would she want to taste anything that came out of there, even if it wasn’t pee.

He came back to the bed and dabbed at the stuff on her body. It was thickening and getting sticky, and it took him a little while to mop it up. When he was done she sat up beside him. She studied his face until he swallowed. “Are you okay?”

“You’re welcome, I guess,” she said, not sure what he was thanking her for. She wondered why her lips were tingling suddenly. It was almost like she’d wanted him to kiss her there instead. “So I … I guess I should go to bed now.”

“Well, you could just … stay here instead, if you wanted. Uh, with me. It’d be like a … a sleep-over, sorta.” He studied her. “I mean, if you want.”

He snorted. His boy-part swayed between his thighs, and she saw it stand up. He didn’t even have to touch it to make it happen. “Okay. Sure.” He sounded real surprised, but she guessed it didn’t matter. He settled in between her knees once more, sharing a grin with her while he pressed his hard warmth against her girl’s place.

They played twice more that night, and again first thing the next morning; after that, they played it all the time together, right up until the night she and Kent did something else. Something a million times more naughty than the wet game, something that felt a million times better — and the best part was that they didn’t even have to wipe any stuff away afterward.

He’d been teaching her the right words. His boy-part was his penis, his dick, his cock. His balls were his testicles, and the hair was pubic hair. The thick white stuff that came out of the tip of his penis was semen, or jizz or cum or spunk. When it was coming out, that was an orgasm.

She knew the names of her parts now too. Her fold was her labia, and inside it was her vulva, the opening into her vagina, or pussy or cunt. At the top of the fold was a little lump of flesh he called her clit, short for clitoris. When they were turned on and ready to play, he got an erection — or hardon or boner — and she got wet, or lubed; and she had orgasms too, a lot more than he could. (He was a little jealous of that.) Her juices were also called cum, like his.

She didn’t have pubic hair yet, but he said she would someday, when she started getting boobs. She asked when that would happen, and he told her any time now, probably by next year. He really knew a lot about her body as well as his own, and she trusted his certainty. She would have hair, and it would be blonde because he said everything that grew out matched everything else. Just like all his hair was black, whether it was on his head, in his armpits, or around his penis. She didn’t know what the hair was for, but neither did he.

She went poking around on the Internet a little — such as it was, in the time of her childhood — and discovered that they were doing sex, in a way. The idea scared and excited her at the same time. It wasn’t like what happened when a boy and girl really did it, and she knew why: he’d never actually put his penis into her vagina. They’d only rubbed themselves against each other, on the outside. She wondered why. Maybe he didn’t know about that part, about putting his dick in her pussy, sort of like he didn’t know what the hair was about.

Maybe that was all right, though. After she’d done some reading about sex — and looked at naughty pictures of men and women doing it — she tried pushing her fingers into her pussy. It didn’t hurt until she got them mostly up to her knuckles, and she felt a sharp pinch inside herself. She pulled her fingers back out to look at them, wondering what had just happened. For a moment it had almost felt like they were pushing up against something soft, but then it had gone away, and it hurt a little. She tried again and this time there was no resistance, but things were a little sore in there now. So she just rubbed her labia and clit for a while instead and made herself come that way.

When she did it to herself all alone like this, the wet game was actually masturbation. She figured Kent knew all about that, since she’d seen him rub his penis lots of times. He called it jacking off. When they were doing it together, it was sort of halfway between masturbation and sex. She’d found a word — humping — that seemed to match it.

So when she went to Kent’s room for a while and rubbed her pussy on his cock until they both came, they were humping each other. She was glad to know the words, but she hadn’t found any yet to describe how it felt afterward, on those nights when his folks weren’t home and she could stay with him and sleep naked with him in his bed. It felt good and warm and happy, a nice deep glow that stayed for a long time while she rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart beating, with his hand moving slowly in her hair, until she fell asleep.

At first the word sex had scared her. She’d heard lots of stories about how you could get all sorts of nasty things from doing sex, like diseases or bugs, or even pregnant if you were old enough. But Kent didn’t seem like he had any diseases, and she couldn’t see any bugs on him anywhere; and besides, she knew she was too young to get a baby in her. That only happened when your boobs started growing.

She’d also heard that sex was a bad thing for kids to do, but that didn’t make sense at all. She was sort of doing it with him already, and nothing bad had happened. Kent was so much nicer to her now than he’d ever been before — than anyone had ever been — and she really liked being with him, even when they weren’t humping. He didn’t mind any more when she tagged along, and he always took her side against Robby. The only time anything had ever hurt was when she’d pushed her fingers into herself that day, but after that, it didn’t hurt any more. She liked putting her fingers inside like that, and thinking of Kent while she did it. It made her have better orgasms. So how could any of it be bad?

She decided after a while that sex was one of those things adults told lies about for some weird reason, because they wanted kids to not do it, even though they — the adults — did it all the time. Like drinking booze or smoking and stuff.

She’d been booted from one foster home for trying booze (it was brown and smelly and tasted nasty, and she got real dizzy), and another for trying a cigarette (it tasted like dirt and made her cough, and her tummy felt like she was going to urp up all over the place). She knew for sure that she’d better keep it a secret that she was humping with Kent, since sex seemed like a lot bigger deal than cigarettes or whisky.

But unlike those other forbidden adult pleasures, this one just felt good and good and good. It was real exciting to see Kent make sperm, and to come with him. She couldn’t imagine how it might be bad for him to put his cock into her pussy, if rubbing it on the outside was any way to guess how it would feel to be rubbed on the inside. Well, she decided, and it made her heart beat fast, there’s only one way to find out.

She was in his bed a few nights later, his parents gone, humping with him. She watched his cock slide up and down in the groove of her labia, and said, “Hey, Kent, why don’t you ever put it in my pussy?”

She shrugged at him, a little uneasy about how surprised he was. “I know you can. When a boy has sex with a girl, that’s what they do, right? It’s like you’re supposed to, or something. So why don’t you ever do it?”

She looked down at his cock. It was real big, a lot bigger than her fingers, and she wasn’t sure it could even fit. But she wanted to try and see. “Yeah. Do it.”

She shook her head slowly. It didn’t hurt, but it was stretching things a little. A lot. That actually felt pretty good. She felt her natural wetness get all over him, making him slippery. “Put it in more.”

Kent licked his lips, his chest heaving like he’d run a mile. He must be pretty excited, she thought, and realized that she was too. He looked into her eyes again, then down at his penis, and pushed his hips forward. “Oh,” he sighed as he watched it go in, “my God.”

Keira shuddered at the feeling. Kent’s penis was large and very hard, and it was warm, and it moved on up into her belly. She felt it enter her, felt it push at the skin inside her pussy, wet all the way along. She felt her pussy open up while his head went in and in, the ring around the end rubbing in her tummy. The shaft was solid and warm, and Kent kept going, pushing in, pushing in, until it was all inside, right up to his pubic hair. “Is … is that it?”

She shivered. His skin had rubbed on her clit, but that was only part of what she was feeling now. She felt full, very full in a place that had never been filled before; there was a lot of pressure and heat there now; and she understood suddenly that some adult pleasures, like sex, were good even after she’d given it a try. There wasn’t a nasty surprise in store. “Wow,” she murmured. “That’s real nice.”

“You really think so?” he said. His eyes were very wide as he stared down at their joined bodies, at the place where his cock had disappeared into her. “God, I can’t believe it all went in.”

“I guess we just … do this,” he said, and pulled back. Keira let out a low moan when she felt his dick slip back down, hoping that he wasn’t going to take it out, because it felt so good to have it in there. That couldn’t really be all there was to it, could it? But he stopped before that happened, and pushed it back in again. “See? Like this.”

Keira got it then. It was like when they humped, only it happened inside, not outside. Rubbing together, over and over. “Okay,” she panted. “Okay. Keep going.”

Kent stared at her again, then smiled. “All right.” And he started rocking back and forth over her, pushing his penis in, pulling it out, pushing in, pulling out; and Keira felt the suction he left behind when he withdrew and the returning fulness when he re-entered, and the sensation of his big warm dick in her pussy was only part of the excitement and pleasure she felt; the way it rubbed along her clit was only part of it too; the best part was knowing she was having sex — they were having sex — breaking a great big rule and loving every second of it. They couldn’t ever tell anyone about this, never ever never, but that was okay.

She stared up into his face, amazed at how surprised he looked. Maybe it was new for him, too. But he kept on moving, and she started pushing up to meet him when he pushed down into her, and it was lots better than humping, and she gave a little shriek and came. Kent knew it had happened and he kept going, because he knew she liked it when he did, and she started coming again and again, more and more, her skin sparking and her body turning to liquid, glowing gold under his working hips. Little beads of sweat broke on her brow, and more was dripping down off his face onto hers. They were moving pretty fast, getting heated up.

Kent let out a gasp. “Keira … I’m … I’m gonna … I’m gonna come…” She nodded up at him, suddenly very excited. He was going to make sperm, right in her pussy. She grabbed his butt and pulled herself up against him, and he growled and his back shuddered, and she felt his penis turn totally hard, and then — and then—

It felt like her belly was inflating. There was a surge of warmth that started way inside, where his tip was thrusting in her cunt, and it grew and grew and made her pussy get real wet. She was coming too, her legs locked around his, her labia jamming up against his pubic hair. The fulness and wetness inside just kept growing, and she heard a squirt from her pussy and felt something warm and thick spray out. It had to be his cum. There wasn’t any room left in her vagina; it was full of his penis and semen; that meant his sperm didn’t have anywhere left to go but out.

Kent kept pumping in her, shooting more and more cum. She knew he couldn’t help it; he’d do it until he was done. She thought of all the times he’d squirted it out on her naked belly and chest, like a big creamy fountain, how much always came out of him; only this time it was going into her. She couldn’t tell for sure, but it felt like he was making more sperm than he ever did before. She squealed as another hot orgasm shot through her pussy, and Kent gasped, and then his penis slowed down. He groaned, his big hard dick still way deep inside, and he leaned in and kissed her — on the lips.

Keira moaned, her own lips moving against his, and he opened his mouth and licked them. The tingle of his tongue went all through her body, and she opened her mouth too; and they tasted each other for a long time, their breath slowing from gasps to even, deep waves. Keira slipped her arms up over his shoulders and pulled him down on top of her. Her legs were open wide, her knees up, and his cock was still inside her pussy. It was still just as hard as it had been when he first put it in, and she felt the head moving around in her, making his sperm squelch and ooze.

“Oh.” She wriggled beneath him. She didn’t know why it made her feel so good to know that she was the only girl he’d ever done this with. “You can kiss on me some more, if you want.”

“Oh yeah,” he breathed, and he did. He went on kissing her for so long that she started moving under him again, just to enjoy the feeling of his big hard penis moving around in there. He started moving too, only this time he moved slow, pulling out real gently and then going back in a fraction of an inch at a time. She lay back and rocked up under him, and he kept on going, slow and steady, and she started to come again. This time he was kissing her and rubbing her nipples while she had her orgasms, and it made them all a lot stronger, and his penis was so hard and warm, and she felt his sperm in her pussy, and he started moving faster and she did too, and she came and came and came, and then he did too again.

There was already too much in her, so everything he made just leaked out. It got all over her labia and her thighs, even in the crack of her butt; and she felt the warm sticky fluid in his pubic hair whenever he pushed down against her to squirt even more into her pussy. When he was done again he backed away, pulling his cock out. It was coated everywhere with creamy fluid, sperm just smeared all over the shaft and head. It was even dripping off of his balls. “Jesus, what a mess,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Really?” He studied her, his chest heaving. It was probably like doing push-ups for him, she thought. A lot of exercise. Sexercise. She giggled. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. You look like you just put your dick in a bowl of frosting.” She had a sudden crazy image of herself licking it off of him, but this time it didn’t seem so gross. She knew it wasn’t pee, even if it came from the same place. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe it even tasted good, like the vanilla glaze on a cinnamon roll.

He chuckled and picked out a tee shirt so he could wipe her off. When he was done he did the same to himself. “Thanks, Keira,” he said when they snuggled up together. She didn’t need to be invited to sleep with him any more.

“Oh,” she said. “Me too.” She reached down and put her hand on his dick just to hold it, just to feel it; and as she slipped into sleep with his sperm gurgling around in her belly, she knew she finally had the word to describe how she felt.

When she woke up the next morning, Kent was on an elbow beside her, looking at her. She smiled, remembering instantly what they’d done last night. “Hi,” she said, stretching.

“Hi,” he smiled, and tickled her nipples. She giggled and caught his hand in hers, and they stared at each other, just looking at their naked bodies. Keira felt at once naughty and free, as though she was doing something so forbidden that it was magic. She liked the way his eyes roamed over her bare skin, seeing her flat boyish chest, her little rise, her smooth labia. She liked being naked in front of him like this.

He liked being naked too. He let her look at his muscles, at the hair under his arms, at the big tube of his penis, erect and ready for him to put it into her. She would never see an erection in the same way again. She knew now why she got lubed, why Kent got hard: it was so his penis could go into her vagina and they could do sex and come. No wonder grown-ups did it all the time, but it was stupid that they didn’t want kids to. If more boys and girls did things like this together, maybe they wouldn’t fight so much.

She wasn’t sure what the sperm was for, apart from it having to do with making babies in an older girl, but she had never asked. It didn’t make sense for him to put it in her when she couldn’t even get pregnant. That didn’t stop her from wanting him to put it in. She would probably figure it out someday. Maybe once she got boobs, she’d understand, and maybe she could even tell Kent something he didn’t know about himself. “I love you,” she said.

He blinked, then investigated the sheets, but there was no puddle anywhere, not a trace of his cum to be found except for a crusty patch that remained from last night. He shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe it got all soaked up in your pussy or something.”

“Oh yeah,” she said, and he got on top of her, put his penis into her, and gave her all she wanted — three more times. From that morning on, they had a new thing they could do with each other, and her nightly visits to his room became a wonderland of pleasure for them both. They had to sneak around when his folks were there, but when they were gone…

The next time they were alone, the overnight sex began while she and Kent were relaxing on the sofa. They’d let Robby pick the movie this time, and he was engrossed in Ninja Turtles. Keira was sitting on Kent’s lap, clad only in a nightshirt, and he was wearing briefs. They were huddled up under a blanket, so his little brother had no idea what they were doing.

Soon after the movie started he put his hands on her thighs, then slipped them up under her nightshirt until his fingertips were caressing her labia. She got wet fast and felt his penis harden against her butt, and reached down to pull it free of his underwear. She couldn’t wait, so she parted her thighs over his, guided his tip against her warm wet vulva, and descended to let him enter her. He let out an inaudible sigh when the penetration was done, and her heart was thumping. They were doing sex, right now, out here on the sofa, with Robby sitting beside them and totally clueless. She leaned back against his chest and he put his arms around her waist, his fingers tickling under the hem of her shirt, rubbing slowly against her clit.

They didn’t move again. She just sat there, with his penis deep inside her vagina, and they felt the friction that came with each of their breaths. That was the only sensation she was aware of, his hard cock slipping up and down in her by fractions of an inch. It was sex without moving, and neither of them had ever felt anything like it before.

She pushed her tummy in and he shivered a little, and she understood that he’d felt her muscles tighten on him. She did it again and he shivered again, and she felt his penis stiffen. Her clit slipped a little along the warmth of his shaft, and she went on moving her belly, breathing more and more deeply and slowly, letting the rhythmic pressure of her vaginal muscles do all the work.

It went on for a very long time, most of the way through the movie. She came a few times, keeping it quiet, keeping still, her skin alive with goosebumps. Her muscles moved faster and faster, and they clenched and relaxed on him, and she heard his breathing skip and his hands tightened on her thighs, and she felt the wave of cum start filling her.

Kent remained motionless, his penis throbbing in her pussy, his semen flowing thick and heavy into her belly. They were barely moving at all, but they were both having an orgasm. It felt so strange to do it this way, without moving, without being able to cry out or hold each other or even kiss. It felt strange, but it was also good. She was beginning to believe that sex was always going to be good, no matter how she did it.

Kent gave one last pulse and his muscles shuddered all at once, and she knew he was done. She didn’t move; she just sat there and kept him inside herself like nothing had happened, pretending to watch the dumb movie, her mind on something else entirely. She felt his cum settling in her, and wondered if it was getting all soaked up again.

When the film was over she moved up and off of him, biting her lip at the wet sucking sound her pussy made when his cock slipped out, but Robby didn’t notice. Kent put it back into his undies and sent his brother off to bed, and she went to join the teenager in his room. “You make love so good,” he said when he’d closed the door. His penis was a great big lump between his legs.

Keira felt herself flush all over. She had read a few stories for older kids, and sometimes they talked about making love, like it was the greatest, best thing a boy and girl could do together. She’d wondered what it was. “Is that what it is? We make love?”

“Yeah,” he said, and took her in his arms. She felt his cock, long and warm, pressing against her belly. He took her shirt off and kissed her, then pushed her back onto the bed until she sat, her legs dangling over the edge. She stared in surprise as he got down on his knees in front of her and hooked her legs over his shoulders, then pulled her butt forward until her pussy was right in front of his face.

It tickled. It wasn’t like her fingers or his penis. It just tickled a little, the warmth of his lips. He kissed her again, right on the pussy like the first time, and then he looked up at her, put his tongue out, and he … he licked her.

Keira gasped. It felt so good. It was warm and smooth and very wet, flexible and strong, and he licked her again, and then he leaned forward and put his open mouth on her pussy, and he pushed his tongue up inside. She shivered. The sweet lapping sensation ran past her vulva and into her vagina, not as deep as his cock, but that was okay. It was better than okay. It was wonderful. She rocked her hips forward, pushing herself against his face, and he moaned and stared up at her and started moving his tongue in and out.

Keira’s whole body was rocking now, her thighs clenching rhythmically around his cheeks, her smooth little pussy slipping up and down his lips. He licked at her clit, and that fast, she came. He didn’t stop. He kept on doing it, kissing her and licking her in her girl’s place, and she went on coming, and she put her hands on his head and ran her fingers through his thick black hair and he licked and sucked and lapped, and after she’d cummed a billion times he slowed down and leaned back to look up at her. “That’s what a boy does for a girl he loves,” he said, and he kissed her pussy again. “Did you like it?”

He got up and sat beside her. In his briefs, his penis was rigid, a huge peak. He leaned in and she didn’t even care where his mouth had just been; she kissed him for a long, long time, tongues and all. “Do you want to do it to me now?”

“I don’t really know how,” he said. “No one ever did it to me.” He pulled his briefs off and leaned back a little while she got down between his knees. “Just, I guess, sort of lick it, you know? Like my balls and shaft and stuff.”

She did. His balls were warm, the skin on them a little wrinkly but soft; and his shaft was hot and stiff. The skin slid over it a little, like it was loose wrapping on a steel pole. It was salty, but it didn’t taste gross. Just a little tangy and a little coppery. His head was the best part, spongy and warm, with the ridge making a nice texture on her tongue. “Yeah,” Kent sighed, running his fingers through her hair. “Suck the tip, okay? Just suck on it.”

She didn’t have to do it very long. He got harder and harder, and then the head swelled up really big on her tongue and he said, “I’m gonna come,” and she kept her mouth there because the idea was so exciting, and then the first spurt splashed out and squirted against her palate.

Keira said umph, but she kept on sucking the head, and Kent kept coming. It wasn’t like frosting at all. There was so much of it, and it tasted funny, like pennies, and her throat went a little numb. He squirted ten times in all before he gasped and said, “Okay, you can stop now.” She leaned back and stared up at him, her cheeks bulging out, her mouth full of warm thick juice. “It’s okay. You can swallow it. It’s not bad for you.”

“Cool,” he said again, and they laid down together, and from then on they made love in every way, every chance they could get, for as long as it lasted. It wasn’t nearly long enough, in the end.

Glenn lay silent for a while after his lover finished her story. His cock had gone rock-solid partway through the account; she’d seen it and made love to him as she went on with the tale, revisiting the forbidden joys of her first sexual relationship. He understood that it was bringing the memories back to life for her, that by being with her in this way, he was allowing her to recall her very first boyfriend, relive the very first time anyone had ever put his penis and his semen into her body.

He looked into her face and imagined what it must have been like for Kent, a boy nearly his age, to have sex with her when she was a pretty eleven-year-old girl, her face and body very much like Denny’s, androgynous and boyish. It couldn’t have been anywhere near as good as it was now with her, Keira at thirty, a beautiful woman with full breasts and a developed body and a lifetime of sexual experience behind her.

He’d cummed massively, having his sixth full orgasm in her, and by the time she finished the story, he’d returned to full rigidity. “Jesus,” he said. “So your first time was when you were eleven — and it was his first time too.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know he was a virgin, of course, not until he told me — and even then I didn’t really understand what it meant, or that we’d lost our virginity together. I don’t know if I was too young to have sex — maybe, but only barely — but I was definitely too young to completely understand it all. He wasn’t much older than me, and I don’t think he was any more prepared. I’m not even sure why he chose me. Maybe because I was available, or maybe because he really did have feelings for me.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was. I know he was attracted to me from the beginning, though, and after a while, so was I. Looking back, I guess he’d been trying to get into my panties from the start, but he didn’t really know how to get things going. That was why he kept on wearing less and less, and why he started letting me see him naked. He wanted me to notice, and what the hell — it worked.” They both chuckled. “I suppose the humping would’ve really been enough for him, but after we had sex that first night, we kept right on doing it. He’s the first boy who ever ate me out, and he was the first boy I ever gave head.”

“Yeah. A girl is born with her lifetime supply of eggs in her ovaries, and if a sperm cell makes it up that far into her, it can fertilize one of those eggs. It can turn into a tubal ligation — the fetus starting to grow in the fallopian tube instead of the womb — or it can even become an ovarian pregnancy, and that’s a very serious problem. A girl doesn’t have to be menstruating to get pregnant.”

“It is. You hear about it happening sometimes in the news. Some girl gets screwed by an older boy, and she ends up pregnant at the age of nine or ten. I heard about a girl that it happened to a few years back. She lived in a country that was very Catholic, and abortion was illegal there in any circumstance. No one would do it, even though the pregnancy might have ended up killing her. Her parents had to take her to another country to get the abortion, and when they got back home, they were excommunicated from the church.”

“Goddamn right. I was too young to know any of that, and I thought I was too young to get pregnant. He didn’t know that either, of course. He knew all about everything else, though; he knew what his cum was for. He was older, and he had a better idea about what sex could mean for a girl. But I guess he figured we were both safe enough, so he never used condoms with me. He filled me right up all the time. Almost as much as you do.”

“No, Glenn, no. It wasn’t like that. Kent sort of led me along, yeah, but I was the one who took off my panties that night, and I was the one who asked him to fuck me. He never asked me for anything. He didn’t rape me. We both wanted it to happen. It was good, honey, and I liked it — I still do — but what bothered me about Rose and Denny was just that I … he was very young, and I guess I didn’t expect it.”

“Kent wasn’t … being with him wasn’t a mistake. It was going to happen sooner or later with some boy or other, and maybe it was a little soon, but it was good; and I don’t have any regrets about the things I did with him.” She sighed distantly, absently massaging his erection. “I made plenty of other mistakes after I lost him, though.”

“The foster system back then was … kind of broken. The feeling was that a placement shouldn’t last more than a year, or two at most, I suppose to make the child get used to the idea that it wasn’t permanent unless the family was on an adoption track. So I got placed somewhere else about ten months after we started having sex.”

“Yeah, it did. I was heartbroken, and so was Kent. We both cried for hours when we learned I’d be moving on. I don’t know, but maybe if things had been different, maybe if … well, maybe he and I would still be together. That might have been nice, but then I wouldn’t have Denny, and I would never have met you.

“After I moved I started … maybe I was looking for a replacement for Kent, or maybe I just wanted to feel that same kind of delight. So I started fucking every boy I could get, and there were lots of them. Boys don’t usually say no to a willing girl.”

She smiled at him and gave him a kiss. “I kept a list for a while, with their names and little marks beside them for every time we had sex. But then I got to thinking that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. If anyone had ever found it…”

“I gave up with the fifteenth boy, and set fire to the paper and scattered the ashes. I felt better after that, safer, since each name usually had fifty or sixty marks—”

“Yeah. And I stayed busy; there were a lot more after that. I lost count somewhere around thirty. By then I was seventeen. A couple of years after that, I slept with a fourteen-year-old who reminded me of Kent in a lot of ways, and he was the one who ended up getting me pregnant.”

Glenn shrugged. “Well, I was wondering where Den’s daddy was. I guess I know now. I figured he must be some kinda loser or something to just walk out on you, but…”

“Right. He was fourteen, and in no way ready to be a father, and I … I didn’t want to have an abortion. I just didn’t feel right about it. So that was it for us, and for me.”

She shivered a little at the sincerity in his voice. This boy was hopelessly in love with her — and better still, he loved her son. She’d personally witnessed the kind of father he would be, devoted and adoring and patient; and she hoped that he wouldn’t end up changing his mind in the next three years. “I’ve been with a few men since then, but not for the last six or so years, and you’re the first boy your age I’ve made love to in more than a decade.” She sighed. “Maybe I’m a hypocrite, the way I’ve been with Denny, but I’ve done all I can to make sure he stays away from that kind of life.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Glenn. He enjoyed having sex, and I don’t imagine he’s forgotten about it. I don’t know exactly why things happened with him and Rose, but you must have noticed that he’s been dressing like you lately. He looks up to you, and that’s fine … but you’re drop-dead sexy, and Denny admires you, and he’s taking after you a little.

“That’s not a bad thing, but he’s always been a little flirt with the girls, and I know he’s good-looking. I think a few of them at the club have crushes on him — even the older ones. Sometimes I think that if he made a move on one of them, she’d say yes. That’s why I got the cameras, and—” She bit her lip.

She sighed. “I guess I should tell you everything. When I moved in here, I put some … I had some cameras installed. Denny doesn’t know about them. There’s one in the living room, facing the couch. There’s another in his room, and … and a third one in here, up in the corner.”

“I did. Both times on the couch, and I saw it when you came in here the other night. That was when I decided to make love with you. I knew you wanted me, after I saw that.” She licked her lips. “And I sure as hell wanted you.”

“No,” the boy said slowly. Cameras. She saw me. She saw what I did. But if she hadn’t seen, we might never be together now. “Just maybe a little, uh, embarrassed.”

“Oh believe me, lover, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. You’ve got something you can really be proud of, in fact. It’s a very impressive part of you, and you use it very well.”

“Well, later on, after you got home, I … I mean I didn’t mean to, but I … saw you.” He blushed. “I had to pee, and your door was open and I wondered if maybe you were still, you know, at work or something, so I looked in, you know, and…”

“I see. You were, what, being polite?” He nodded. “Well, I appreciate that, Glenn. The truth is that I was hoping you’d come to bed that night. That was why I left the door open, and why I was sleeping on top of the covers. I was disappointed that you didn’t come to me. I guess you needed something more like a direct invitation than a hint, huh?”

When they were finished they got up, took a shower together, and made love one last time under the spray. The reality was far better than Glenn had imagined. The water was warm, flowing down over both of their bodies, and he stroked her naked skin everywhere with the soap. Her slick nipples were stiff and lovely under his fingers, her torso rounded; but he could feel muscle under her skin, and knew she was in good condition. Maybe she swam. She had a million acre-feet of water to do it in, right outside her door.

He knelt before her, soaping her ass and pussy, running his hands down the firm length of her legs. He even worked soap between her toes, to her giggling delight, and when he’d rinsed her again he nestled his face between her thighs and licked her groove, enjoying the contrast between the water outside and the silken slick folds within. Keira settled a leg over his shoulder and let him go at her, sighing and moaning and coming, and by the time he was on his feet and ready for his turn, he was already seven inches into it.

She gave him head for a good long time, the warm spray of the shower playing down over his slick chest. Her hands glided back and forth over his nipples and up and down his abs, and when she started massaging his balls he gave a little grunt. “Stand up.”

She knew what was on his mind and backed against the shower wall, her body pressed by his as they kissed with building intensity. She got his hands down under her ass and pulled herself up onto his shoulders, straddling his hips, and he found her without any effort. He glided into her and started, and she rode his cock until he was finished, and by then all the hot water was gone. The only hot liquid left at all was deep in her belly, fresh from his loins.

They toweled each other off, dressed, and she and Denny drove him home. Before he got out of the car, he said he would stop by again tomorrow. He wasn’t sure how he’d be able to arrange it, but he promised her he’d think of something.