I wasn’t a virgin, but all of my experiences with boys had been mostly basement or back seat fumblings, quick and mildly pleasurable. I’d never heard or seen anything like what Mr. and Mrs. B were doing in their bedroom this afternoon.

I was so lost in my own world I didn’t even bother to get dressed. I just tossed my wet towel on the floor and curled up under the covers. I think I drifted off. The heat of the sun had made me sleepy and a little lethargic.

My dreams were about Doc, seeing him stroking his cock over my breasts, rubbing the fat, bulbous tip over my hard, pink nipples. He kept whispering, “I want to come all over you, Ronnie. I want to come all over your sweet little tits.”

When I woke up, my pussy throbbed with the images from my dream, the light had faded to near-dim, and I couldn’t hear the kids anymore. Someone knocked at my door, and I realized that was what must have woken me.

“Come in.”

It was Mrs. B, and she carried a cup of tea she set next to me on the night table. I felt her hand in my hair, brushing it away from my eyes.

“How are you feeling?” She sat on the edge of the bed behind me.

“A little better.” I turned my face to her.

“I brought you some tea,” she said, and I felt her weight shifting.

“Thanks.”

“What hurts?” she asked. “Is it your tummy?” I nodded, closing my eyes as she traced her fingers over my forehead. “Here, move over.” I stiffened for a moment, feeling her curling herself around me. “Let me rub it. Sometimes it helps.”

“Mrs. B,” I whispered, but her hand slid over the comforter, massaging my belly through the material.

She smelled sweet, and I knew she must have taken a shower, too, after sunbathing. We’d both been so oiled up and sweaty. Remembering how she looked, rubbing oil into her breasts and then lying topless next to me, made me shiver.