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” “And what would that be, Miss Greedy?” I took a drink of coffee. “I want to see your cock.” SPLOOSH! I cleaned the coffee off my robe with a tissue while thinking fast. “How come?” (Okay okay, I wasn’t thinking all THAT fast.) “Cause I learned about them in, uh, sex education.” Seventh grade health, eh? “I don’t think they call it that in health class.” “Well…” she wormed her way between my knees. “…well, it wasn’t school, exactly.” She grinned up at me. “Marcie told me.” Aha! Marcie was another seventh grader, who had moved into in our condo complex. Betsy hung out with her after school. Like any proper parent, I took refuge in a technicality: “It’s called a penis.” She served up her irresistible giggle. “Of course I knew that! Okay, I want to see your penis.” I thought a long moment, then pulled it out of my boxer fly, why, I’ll never know (oh yes I do). Maybe I talked myself into the idea that we could somehow get the whole thing over with. Or. The housemaid had gone out to make a few purchases, leaving Mary alone with Tommy, who she was just going to put to bed, and upstairs she went with him for that purpose, without speaking to me.What a chance! oh! if I had not been such a beast. My prick rose stiff, the afternoon’s spend was the first I had had for a long time, a stiff prick gives courage, and darkness helps. We are alone, she said nothing as I spent in her hand, indeed went on kissing me when spending, what if I ask her again? What an age she seemed putting Tommy to bed, at last I heard her say, “Go to sleep, mamma will be home soon,” and she went up to her bedroom. She is going thought I to sit there till Eliza knocks, and did not dare go up, but stood listening in the hall, feeling my prick and longing; at last I heard her coming down with slow, measured steps. In the hall, I flung my arms around her, kissing and begging her to forgive me. “I could not help it,” said I in a whisper, “you do not know how I longed for.
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