MILF

I've known for a while, kids say stupid things. Shocking things. Disgusting, disturbing things you have to just have to cope with, in order to keep going, or else it becomes all consuming.

This is what happened to me. This exact thing.

My teenage son, Jaron, asked if a few friends from school could come over for his 16th birthday. He's in the 10th grade, he'll be driving next year, and then I expect I'll probably not see a lot of him after that. He's pretty independent, he does his own laundry and has even asked if he can get a job after school to make a little cash because video games currently consume his life and I don't have the financial resources to keep funding his habit.

So, I said yes, he could have a few friends over. A few means five or less. If he wanted to have a party, that was one thing. I told him we could have cake, ice cream, games and activities.... He gave me one of those looks, the kind your kid gives you when you suggest things like activities for a five year old, and all they want to do is play video games and look at their phones. Silently reprimanded for thinking of him as a grade schooler instead of a high schooler, I asked him what he and his friends might be doing when they came over.

"You know. Video games and stuff," he answered. The video games I could handle. The "and stuff" part needed more context. Silently, a whirlwind of random thoughts and miscellaneous information swirling in my head. Was Jaron planning on inviting Heather? What about Darnelle? Darnelle was a boy who had recently decided he wanted to become a girl. Instantly, upon hearing this information I was thrown into a panic attack, but after a lot of conversations, and I do mean a lot, Jaron assured me he was perfectly fine being the teenage boy that he is. No thoughts of "changing" things... No feelings of not being in the right body.

I'm not a prude. I'm not one of those crazy Karen types either. I worry. I think, I feel, and I also accept. What my kids do, to a certain extent, I feel responsible for. But if my child decided half-way through their teenage year that they just didn't feel like a boy, or if my daughter told me at the age of six she wanted to be a boy... oh boy. It's a lot to handle, but... I'd handle it like an adult. Like a parent. Like someone who cares about their child's life, and not the genitalia between their legs.

Darnelle's parents are "accepting" I'm told. He doesn't wear girl clothes at school, or do anything "weird" according to Jaron, but he does wear makeup and act "different". I've asked if Darnelle is coming over before, but Jaron rolls his eyes at me and now I don't ask anymore. I'm not prying. I'm not looking for the freak show. I've made that clear, which I think only reinforces to Jaron that it's exactly what I'm looking for, so I've dropped it.

Heather, is a different story. Heather is 100%, a girl. She's pretty with long brown hair, curly at the ends. She has this 1980's tomboy feel about her, and she's pretty without a lot of makeup, which is why I dread having her over. Jaron tells me that other boys his age have girls stay at their house for "sleep-overs". I call that "fucking", but I don't tell Jaron that. Those girls, either have parents who aren't parents at all, or they're out of control and have absolutely no regard for...for...anything. I've seen Heather. I've met her a couple of times. She doesn't give me the impression that she's one of those kinds of girls, but then again, neither did I.

When I was sixteen, I'd had sex with at least twenty different boys. NO, I am not proud of that. I was a rebellious little twat with a chip on my shoulder. I used to go to the local arcade and sleaze myself for clothing and jewelry. When the boys didn't have but the money they brought with them, and that being mostly quarters, I went after quarters, food, ice cream, snacks, and lastly, attention. Both my parents worked constantly. We had a nice house, nice things, but my parents didn't spend it on me, and they certainly didn't hand it over for me to piss away on the latest fashion or fad.

I have to say, I think the fact that I made it through high school without getting pregnant, was a miracle. I bought condoms but the boys I slept with rarely ever used them. This was before the AIDs epidemic and HIV, thank god. No, my biggest fear was getting knocked up, and to combat that, I routinely took my mother's birth control pills. She had a few month's worth stashed in her dresser drawer, and I knew enough to know what to take, and when. Come to think of it, my mother was always making sly comments about her birth control pills going missing. By the time I graduated high school, she probably thought she was losing her mind. I might want to give her a call and let her in on my secret...some day.

The point is, I'm a realist when it comes to girls, especially teen-age-girls. Heather might be all pure and innocent, but I know the first time she gets a finger or a tongue on that thing, she's going to swear everything else off. My only hope is that it's not Jaron who gives it to her.

She's not a bad person. Her parents aren't bad people. She's just... I'm going to stop talking about her, before I get myself in trouble. She's... Jesus Christ. I just hope... I want more for Jaron. Okay. I just want better for him. I want him to have the full package. Pretty, successful, a go-getter, honest, intelligent, brave, hard-working. I see Heather as a pretty face and easy going, and then as soon as she gets pregnant, she'll blow up like a balloon, and never work another day in her life. That's my biggest fear.

When Jaron told me that neither Darnelle or Heather would be coming, I was relieved. I was giddy, almost. I asked Jaron what he wanted to have for dinner, and we planned it all out. I went shopping, picked up stuff for nachos and plenty of drinks and snacks. I even got a few that I liked, you know... no reason to not enjoy my son's birthday as much as everyone else! My snacks just happened to include a bottle of wine, and one of those DVD's with "white people almost kissing" covers. I know, I'm a sucker for them.

When Jaron's birthday eventually came, he was super excited, literally racing around the house getting ready for school. I gave him a kiss and a hug, and went over the specifics before he rushed out the door. His four, maybe, possibly, six-friends, would be riding the bus home with him. They all had permission slips and the school had already been informed. Half-way through the day, Jaron called from the office to tell me that the school would not be allowing the other kids to ride with him. Apparently, my son's school loves to throw last minute wrenches into people's schedules. Yeah, I'm used to them being like that.

I asked Jaron if the boys could just stay there and I could pick them up on my way home from work. Jaron's voice got really low, I could tell he was trying to keep the other people in the office from hearing him, and he said he'd make it work. And then, he told me something I did not expect. He asked me to pick him up at the pizza place, a block from the school.

Being the independent mother and Jaron being the independent child, I knew something was up, but since I'd already planned most everything else out, this seemed like a minor inconvenience. I agreed, and Jaron hung up.

The moment he'd hung up, I realized I was going to be pressed for time. I'd already put in for a half day at work, which wasn't the thing pressing me. The issue was, because I'd gone for half a day, I'd already booked time at the gym. I figured I could make it work, and as the time got closer, I was feeling more and more confident that I could do it.

One O'clock hit. I was out the door and on my way to the gym. By one-thirty I was already pumping iron, and by two-thirty, I was showering and getting dressed to go pick up the boys. I had an hour to make a forty-five minute drive. No problem.

After an hour, I realized there was a problem. Traffic was horrible. It would be another half-an-hour before I got to the pizza place, but it turned out it was just fine. Jaron and the other boys were sitting outside on a picnic table, laughing and having a pretty good time. Jaron jumped off the table and hurried over to get in the vehicle, and one of his friends looked as if he were trying to race him for the front seat.

"Hi mom," Jaron said, sliding into the front seat and buckling his seatbelt.

"Hey boys. How's it going?" I asked.

A few of them answered, "Okay", "alright", but one of the boys simply laughed. Tod was his name. Tod was new to this group, a transfer to Jaron's school from another district. According to Jaron, he wasn't a bad kid. He'd just made some bad decisions and had to go to a different school after his "intermediary" school. To me, that sounded like the new-age way of saying "bad kid" but I kept my thoughts to myself.

As the boys piled in, I took count. Three in the back, another up front, smashing in next to Jaron. That made four in total.

"Hi Jaron's mom!" Heather exclaimed, literally jumping into the back seat to lay across the laps of the other three boys. I felt the smile disappear from my face, and I glanced at Jaron who gave me a pleading sort of look. Maybe he'd planned on this, maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd planned it, and thought she'd back out. Maybe, she'd invited herself along, and Jaron, not wanting to look odd, had gone along with the flow.

"Hi Heather," I said, turning my face back to the steering wheel. I looked at her through the rearview mirror, waiting for her to make the wrong move. "Everyone have their seatbelts on?"

"Yes," and "yeah" came the chorus of comments, but one wasn't like the others. One voice from the back said, "I...I'm not sure. I might need help with this."

"Knock it off," Jaron said, and I saw Heather elbow the boy who'd made the comment. I watched as Heather sat up, smashed her ass between two of the boys, and then they clipped the seatbelt in, the middle one going over both Heather and Tod.

"Jesus, you've got a fat-ass," Tod said, trying to move his own butt from side to side.

"Oh? You want me to sit on your lap?" Heather asked him.

"You can sit on my face," Tod replied rudely.

"What did you say?" I asked sharply. Tod looked out the window rather than respond. Heather however, looked me dead in the eyes, through the rearview mirror. "He's just being an asshole," she said. "Nothing new."

I glance over at Jaron one more time, and then put the car into drive. The rest of the trip was spent making small talk, and rehashing the issues they all had at school that day.

Miss Norris, the gym teacher, who just happened to share her name with a magical wizard/cat from a recent movie Jaron had seen, had taken it upon herself to "double check" with the front office, once she'd heard about the boy's plans to ride the bus home with Jaron.

Jaron, who wasn't in the gym class with the other two boys who'd been caught discussing it, when they should have been quiet and doing their stretches, got called down to the front office, and then was told to call me, to say that simply couldn't happen. Not only could they not ride the bus home with him, they couldn't be picked up by me, either.

"So... why did they let you go?" I asked, turning onto the expressway to head toward the house.

"They can only control you, when you're on their property," Tod said informatively. "So we all just walked to the corner. They can't tell you you can't walk home, and they can't force you to get on the bus."

"Yeah," Jaron said, adding quickly, "because kids stay after school, the buses leave people behind all the time. They just wait until it's time, and then they go. Everyone else has to walk, or get picked up."

"So you walked to the corner? They just let you walk out?" Tod beamed from the back seat, as if it were all his doing.

"It's okay mom," Jaron said. "Honestly. It'll be fine."

As we drove the straightaway back to the house, the boys discussed all manner of things; How Mr. Knight was grading their homework unfairly. How the school cafeteria food had been overcooked and dry, ever since the ovens had been replaced and the school lunch ladies refused to reset the cooking times. How the time between classes was now shortened even more, which didn't allow them barely enough time to get from one class to another.

"Would you stop pinching me?" Heather exclaimed suddenly, elbowing Tod in the chest. I looked in the rear-view mirror just in time to see Heather deliver a second blow behind the first.

Tod's mouth dropped open innocently, but from the look on Heather's face, I could tell she wasn't making it up.

"Knock it off you two," I said, glancing back a moment later and meeting eyes with Heather. I hoped she knew I wasn't telling her, as if she'd instigated anything. I just didn't want Tod, who I could tell was the real bad boy of the bunch, to think I was singling him out.

"Yeah, knock it off," Tod whispered a moment later. I grit my teeth and had to consciously let my foot up off the gas pedal, realizing I was now going about thirty miles per hour over the limit.

Without realizing it, we made record time and soon enough we were pulling into the driveway. Heather had the belt-buckle off in an instant and was climbing over the other boys to get out of the car. I got out in a hurry, thinking I was going to have to break up a fight or something, but there was no need. Tod took his time getting out, waiting for the other two boys, Doug and Yannel, to get out first. Jaron's friend George got out and leaned up against the car, until Jaron got out and told him to get off the car.

"Yeah George," Tod said, flicking something at the boy.

"Come on," Jaron said, going to the front door and using his key to unlock the door. Heather didn;t follow the boys in, and instead, came around the car and asked me if there was anything I needed help with.

"Nope. I just have my gym bag," I said, reaching in and grabbing the bag from beside the front seat.

"I wasn't doing anything," Heather said then, as if she was worried I might have thought she had been.

"I know. I wasn't..." I saw the look in Heather's eyes and I knew what she was going through. "I didn't say that because I thought you were doing something wrong," I said. "I know you weren't doing anything wrong."

Heather smiled and nodded, happy to hear me say it. "He's just an ass."

"I can tell," I said, giving Heather a smile of my own. I reached around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring hug. "Is he the "bad-boy" in school?"

"The worst," Heather laughed.

"Ugh. The worst part is, most girls go for the bad-boy." Heather didn't say anything but I knew. I knew, only too well. "Let's go inside," I said and I closed the car door and locked it with the remote.

"Can I ask you a question?" Heather asked, as we got into the house and I immediately started unloading the dishwasher.

"Sure," I said, glancing up, wary of what she was going to ask.

"Did you ever do something...you wished you hadn't done?"

The question was about as cryptic as it could be, but I knew exactly what she was talking about. She'd done something, probably sexual, and probably with Tod. Now, she greeted every moment of it. I also knew she was looking for some self-valuation here. She wanted to hear that everything was going to be alright. Maybe, she was looking for anything other than what I'd gotten at this age, which was my mother shouting repeatedly into my face, calling me a filthy whore.

"So many times," I said in a regretful tone of voice. "But, I'm much wiser for the experience. I've done some things, kinda bad," I gave her a knowing glance and then looked back to the dishes. "I was always careful though," I lied. "I took precautions. Made sure I wasn't going to get myself into any trouble," I said, giving her another glance, locking eyes with her for a split second.

"Can I tell you something?" Heather asked then, stepping closer.

"Open up that cup-board there," I said, and I handed her a couple of bowls and she put them away with the rest. "Go ahead."

"I just...-"

"I'm not going to tell your parents," I said with a sigh, as if she didn't have to say it. She could trust me. But if she told me she was pregnant, I would be on the phone with her parents in the blink of an eye.

"I gave Tod..." She nodded in the direction of the hallway, through which we could both hear the boys yelling loudly about something they were watching on the big screen television in the front room. "Anal."

"You did what?" I asked, my mouth falling open. My mind whirled. Jesus Christ, These kids! How in the fuck? I mean... I shrugged as if it made sense. I'd heard about this. Teen-age girls who wanted attention, but didn't want to lose their virginity. They were the new age "virgins", willing to have as much sex as their boyfriends wanted, but only willing to go through with anal. It was, as the article I'd been reading stated, "the safer choice".

"I thought-" Heather began to say, but I cut her off.

"You don't have to explain," I said. "I understand." I stood there for another moment, and then pulled the top rack out and began handing silverware to Heather. "Can you put it in the drawer, right there?"

Heather reached forward and opened the drawer, and began putting the silver away.

"It is the safer choice," I said, reciting the line from the article.

"I guess so," Heather said, sorting forks from spoons like a pro.

"As long as you're being safe," I said, fishing for information. "Was he wearing a condom?"

Heather paused, and then half-turned to me, and then went back to sorting silverware. "He said we didn't need one," she said quietly. "I...I read online that, unless you had like...an open sore or a cut."

I almost dropped the plate I was holding and put my hands down in front of me. My stance, my body language, told Heather I was disappointed in her. How could she be so stupid? No condom? Tod was fucking her in the ass, and with no condom? I shook my head and then cocked it to the side. "You always make them wear a condom. Even if you're on the pill. You might not get pregnant with anal, but you can still get-"

"Oh my god!" Heather said suddenly, and she put a hand to her face and looked like she was about to cry. She was so happy. "I...no! I...said oral. Not anal!"

"What?" I said, dropping the plate back into the dishwasher and then reaching desperately to keep it from falling out onto the tile floor. "Jesus Christ! I thought you said anal!" I growled, lowering my voice. Heather laughed on the verge of hysteria, but kept her voice low too.

"Noo," she said, weakly, and I could tell she was laughing herself out of breath. "Never. Oh my god."

"Well," I said, shaking my head, they say it's the new...the new...something."

"I'm never doing that," Heather said then, turning and grabbing another handful of silverware.

"Yeah. That's what I said when I was your age," I said, confiding in her just a little bit. "Don't ever say never or next thing ya know, you're doing exactly what you said you'd never do."

Heather nodded and then put the last of the silverware in the drawer before pushing it closed.

"You wanna help me out in the kitchen, or you want to go hang out with the boys?" I asked.

"I...if you don't mind, I'll help you out."

"I could use the help," I said, and we continued talking as I pulled out the lettuce, tomato, onion and ground beef. Heather grabbed the chips from the pantry, and the salsa, the cheese sauce and the taco seasoning.

Heather told me more about her and Tod's clandestine meeting, how he'd treated her in the weeks leading up to their little rendezvous, and how, immediately afterward, he'd become a complete asshole.

"Boys are like that," I said, chopping up the tomato with a knife. "Boys. Not men. Boys have this subconscious need to make you feel like you owe them something. That's because they're afraid of losing it, or you giving it to someone else. So they try to," I made a wiggling motion with the knife, as if I was trying to balance something on the knife edge, "walk an edge. They want you to do it again...but they don't want you to think they liked it that much. Otherwise, you'll be in control. They can't have that."

"Control?" Heather asked.

"Yes," I replied. "They want control, and...that," I said, waving a hand at Heather in general. "Just remember. You have the control, until someone takes it away. Don't let them." I swept the tomatoes into a bowl and then grabbed the lettuce. "And always make them wear a condom."

Heather smiled, and nodded, and we continued to chat, and recount stupid stories, mine from my younger years and hers from more recently. Once everything was ready, I browned the ground beef, and we assembled the nachos onto a giant platter and got it ready to serve.

"You want to do the honors?" I asked Heather.

"Sure," she said, and we headed to the front room with the food. Jaron and his friends were all sitting on the couch, the chairs, and the floor, and they were watching a match between robots in an arena of some sort.

"What's this?" I asked as I put two bags of chips next to the platter and the boys began digging in. "Oh, make sure not to spill," I said, just as George tipped his nacho up and emptied the contents onto the front of his shirt. "I'll grab paper plates. I don't want any ground beef on the floor."

"Can you grab me a soda?" Jaron called out as I walked away.

"Me too!" another boy called out, and soon I was taking orders from afar, until everyone was accounted for. As I came back into the front room, I found Heather sitting on Tod's lap, her arms folded across her chest, and a tight jawed, pursed lip kind of look on her face.

"Here ya go," I said, handing a soda to the nearest boy, and then Tod, and then the next, and so on and so forth, until they were all handed out. "Anyone want ice?" A few of the boys looked at me, but then shrugged. I could tell something was going on. Something about the dynamic in the room had changed, and I got the feeling it was Heather. Well, not just Heather, but Tod and Heather. Something was up. "Okay, I'll go grab some ice," I said, and I hurried back to the kitchen.

As I dug around in the freezer, I got this funny feeling and I'm not the kind of person to let funny feelings slide. Most of the time, I'm wrong, but I always err on the side of caution. It's saved me many times before, and I was counting on it saving either myself, or Heather, this time too.

I grabbed my cell phone, whipped through the contacts until I found Heather's mom's phone number, and I hit the dial button. A moment later, a woman picked up the phone, sounding as if she was stoned, or drunk, I couldn't tell which. "Hi, is this Heather's mom?" I asked.

"Yeaaaah. What did she do now?"

"Oh, nothing. No, she's been a perfect angel. I just wanted to get her address real quick. We're driving her home."

"Ohhh," the woman said, and she rattled off the street address for me.

"Can you hold on a second?" I asked.

"For what?" the woman asked.

I hurried out to the front room and handed the phone to Heather, who was still sitting on Tod's lap, as if made of stone.

"Who is it?" Heather asked, taking the phone from me and putting it up to her ear. "Hello? ...Mom? What the hell? No. Yeah. No. Okay." She handed the phone back to me, looking frustrated.

"Do you need to go?" I asked, taking the phone from Heather and hanging it up without bothering to check if her mom was still on the phone or not.

"Yes," Heather said then, getting up and pulling her skirt down before hurrying into the kitchen.

"Do I need to drive you home?" I asked her as we headed toward the kitchen. Heather looked at me then, and I was nodding to her all the way.

"Yeah, could you? My dad fell and hurt his back and my mom has bad knees. I need to go home."

"Oh. Sounds bad," I said in a louder than normal tone of voice. "Back issues last a while. I imagine you probably won't have a lot of free time for a while," I said, grabbing my jacket and my keys. "Get your stuff," I said in a whisper.

"I didn't bring anything," Heather replied just as quietly.

"Out. Go, go, go," I said then, ushering her out the door and into the car in a flash. We were back on the road a moment later, and speeding towards her house. Well, not speeding, but going the speed limit.

"Thanks for doing that," Heather said, folding her hands in her lap.

"What happened?" I asked then, worried Jaron might have been involved.

"It's Tod. He's an asshole," Heather said.

"Yes," I replied knowingly. "We've covered that."

"He kept trying to pull my skirt up," Heather said then.

"What an asshole," I said. "Childish. Why would he-"

"I don't have any underwear on," Heather said, confessing.

I gave her a sharp look, and then asked, "Heather? Why are you not wearing any panties?"

"He cut them off of me," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "He was messing around in first period, and at first, I thought he was just, you know, touching me. Just like, I don't know. He wasn't like doing anything."

"What are you talking about?"

"My skirt," she said, reaching into a pocket and pulling it inside out. I glanced down then, and saw the bottom of the pocket had been cut out. "I thought he was putting something in my pocket. But what he did was, he cut the bottom of my pocket, and then snipped the side of my underwear. I didn't have any idea what he was doing, until I heard the scissors cutting my panties, and as soon as I looked down, he just-," Heather made a grasping motion with her right hand, showing me Tod's last cut with the scissors. "-and that was it. I could feel them pull to the side, and I had to grab the top in my hand, to, you know, hold them up until I got to the bathroom."

"What did you do with them?" I asked.

"I threw them away. My mom would be super-pissed if she found out. So, like, at this point, I'm just going to act like they're missing."

"Well, thankfully you have more," I said.

"I have like, two more. That's it."

"You're kidding," I said. Heather gave me a look, as if she were going to start crying again, and I refocused on the road. My mind was a whirl. "We're going to the store," I said then. "Isn't there... is there a drug store close to your house?"

"Yeah," Heather replied.

"Yeah. Okay," I said. There had to be something better. "I've got it. " I pulled the wheel to the right and immediately got off the expressway. "We're going to the mall, but we need to be quick." I almost brought the car to a skidding stop, and jumped out of it before Heather even had her seatbelt off.

"What are we doing?" She asked, following me and holding her skirt down at the same time.

"Fixing that," I said and I pulled the door open and held it for her. In less than five minutes we were back on the road, Heather had a six pack of underwear in a paper bag from Victorias, and a fresh pair on her body.

"I'll pay you back," she said, clutching the bag to her chest.

"You wanna pay me back?" I asked, giving her a serious look. "Dump that asshole. Do whatever you have to do, and get rid of him."

"I would, if I could," she said.

"There is no "if" girl. Just do it. The longer it goes on, the deeper he's going to put his meat hooks into you, and the harder he's going to take it, when you finally get fed up with his bullshit."

Heather clenched her jaw and I could tell she wanted to break it off with him, she just didn't know how to do it.

"When you get home, call his house. If he's not home, tell his parents you're breaking up with him. I know that's not the right way to do it, but when you're an asshole, sometimes it's the only way."

"And what if he says no?"

"Says no? He can't say no. It takes two to tango, and if one person breaks up, that's it. There is no - "no"." Heather looked a bit more relaxed then. "You let me know if he says anything. If he threatens you, or says he's going to do something, you let me know."

Heather nodded her head.

"Alright," I said, pulling onto the street Heather lived on. "Hey! You have a cinema right here?" I asked, seeing the cinema at the end of the street.

"Yeah," Heather said, nodding.

"You go to the movies often?" I asked.

"Sometimes," she said, shrugging.

"Cindy and I go to the movies all the time," I said, pulling into her driveway and unlocking the doors. "If you ever need to get out, and just wanna have some down time, not with boys, but just... by yourself, or you wanna go see a movie, give me a call."

"Are you serious?" Heather asked.

"Yup," I replied. "You've got my number?" She said she didn't have it, so I found one of my business cards in the middle glove box and handed it to her. "That's fancy," Heather said, flipping the card over in her fingers.

"Yeah. Well, first impressions are everything in my line of business," I said.

Heather nodded and opened the car door, and then she was gone. I waited until she got to the door, opened it, and went inside, before pulling out of the driveway.

"So, you like cutting girls' panties off in class? You little fucker," I said to myself, but was subconsciously speaking to Tod. "We'll see about that."

I thought of so many things I could do to this peckerwood, this "child" and then, I realized that was exactly what he was. A child. He probably had a father who beat him, or abused his mother. Probably an only child. Starving for attention. He was immature. Immature children did immature things. I kept telling myself these things, trying to make up excuses, all the while, trying to keep myself calm. I kept telling myself, Heather would break up with him, Jaron would see he was a loser, and I would never have to see his face again.

I pulled into the driveway and took a moment to compose myself, before getting out and going into the house. Immediately I heard whispers and rushing about. I walked down the hallway to see what was going on, and walked into the front room just in time to see Tod and Doug sit down quickly.

"Is everything alright?" I asked. All the boys said yes, and I glanced at Jaron, who refused to look me in the eye. "Alright then," I said, and then I looked up at the clock on the wall. "You boys mind taking this upstairs?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Jaron said, standing up and clicking the TV off with the remote.

"Hey, that was just getting good," Tod said.

"Dude, I've got a TV in my room," Jaron said.

"He's got two TV's and a computer," Yannel said, flipping up his pointer and middle finger, showing the number two.

"I've got your two," Tod said, making the same two finger symbol, and then flipping his tongue out between his fingers rudely.

Doug and George hurried ahead, leaving Jaron, Yannel and Tod to go up the stairs last. Tod, the very last to go up, glanced back at me and I swear he made a kissing face for just a split second.

Hmmm, I said to myself. So that was his deal. Just a perverted little asswipe. Oversexed, hormone fueled little cock rocket. There was literally only one thing on that little bastard's mind, probably twenty-four seven, and that was getting his jollies off. He probably hadn't even had sex before, although, there was no ruling that out now-a-days.

I let all the information sink in, trying to make a plan on how to deal with it in an adult manner. But this was a child. A rude, obnoxious, overly sexualized, immature... child. Perplexed, I went into my room and closed the door behind me. A child. I flipped the light on and pulled off my top, unhooked my bra and pulled that off too. A child. I grabbed the top of my yoga pants and pulled them down, yanking off everything at once. I lifted my boobs and squeezed them for a moment, and then reached down and ran my hands down my pubic mound, checking for any sharp hairs or stubble. I'd done a decent job and there wasn't anything in question that needed trimming up. I went to the closet, slid the door open and grabbed a silk nightgown, slipping into it. I tied the waist and walked back over to my dresser, bent down to grab my clothing, and froze.

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