"… about it, honey, don't think about the way your mother and Carl looked in there in the house, they way their faces looked and what they were doing. Don't think about the way your mom was loving it, about the way she was holding him with her naked legs locked around his back there on the floor… don't think about how it must have felt for them, don't think about it at all…"

No, or course he wouldn't think about it, Eddie thought. Of course, he wouldn't. It was too awful. He felt Cindy stroking his hair lightly, comfortingly, and then she stroked his shoulder and the slender hardness of his muscular boyish arm. It felt good to be touched by her, Eddie decided, good to be caressed by this beautiful woman, his only friend in this moment of internal crisis. But he mustn't think about what his mother and Carl had been doing, he mustn't let that mental image remain vividly implanted in his brain…

"Don't think about your mom, about Carl, don't think about what you and I saw in the cabin… don't… don't…" Cindy's voice droned on. But Eddie now could feel the firm, warm, full breasts pressing hard against him, could feel her nipple beginning to harden, and he felt the excitement in his hardening young cock increase despite his efforts to control himself and push the memory from his mind. But he could still see them mentally as they looked in the cabin, fucking, and the images were in turn causing unmistakeable arousal in his tortured young body. Despite his tears, the tortured confusion in his young mind, Eddie was becoming more and more aroused by the proximity of Cindy's lush body and soothing voice telling him not to think of what he had witnessed, while the vision remained unerasable in his mind, try as he might to shut it off. In fact, her voice was bringing it into crystal clarity. He pressed even closer to Cindy now, secure with her female nearness and the gentle stroking of her hand on his shoulder and arm.