Chapter 11

After having left Peter at his room and continuing down the hallway into her bedroom, Sandra had changed into her bedtime attire—fresh panties and a long tee-shirt—and was sitting up in bed with a novel. With only one bedside lamp on, her plan had been to read, get drowsy, and go to sleep, but she hadn’t turned a page in some time. Her mind wasn’t on the novel. It was on Peter and what had just happened in the living room. Maybe she wasn’t the right person to take care of him. She wasn’t trained and had no experience with a boy, let alone a boy like him. What if she was making his situation worse?

A soft knock on the door caused Sandra to peer over the top of her book. “Come in,” she said.

Her jaw dropped when the door opened. Sandra had expected to see her daughter but, in the dim light cast from the sole lamp, she could make out Peter standing there wearing the pajamas she had bought him. Then she noticed where his eyes were staring. Sandra flung her legs straight out in front of her, dropping her knees and clamping them together as she smoothed the long tee-shirt over her thighs.

“Peter, what’s wrong?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“You didn’t kiss me.”

“I told you that Madison could come down and— Which she actually did. So it was good that we weren’t kissing.”

“But after she went upstairs...” Peter left it hanging.

“It was late so we went to bed.”

“But you did what Mommy, I mean my mother, always did. You teased me and left me like that.”

“Oh, Peter, I’m so sorry. But I didn’t do what your mother did. She punished you for masturbating. I told you to jerk off.”

“It’s not the same.”

“That’s what I’m saying. What I did and what your mother did isn’t the same.”

“I mean it’s not the same when I don’t kiss you.”

Sandra smiled. “Okay, if it will help you do it, come here for a kiss.”

Peter flicked the bedroom door closed behind him as he ran to the bed. But not to the side where Sandra had expected. He jumped on the foot of the bed and crawled with his hands and knees on both sides of her legs and then her upper body. In a flash, Peter was lying on top of her with his mouth pressed to hers, his tongue pushing against her closed lips.

Sandra opened her mouth and soon their tongues were active. She couldn’t really object. She enjoyed their kissing. But soon Peter’s hard cock was humping her vulva. Sandra flung a leg over the back of his thighs to hold him still as she broke away from the kiss.

“You said you wanted a kiss,” Sandra said.

“That’s what we’re doing.”

“You’re doing more than kissing me.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You’re humping me.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s when you push your groin against mine.”

“Isn’t that part of kissing? We always do that.”

“It’s something that can be done while kissing, but it’s not kissing.”

“So can I do it while we kiss? I like it a lot.”

Sandra chuckled. “I bet you do. I sort of do, too. But let’s say you meet a girl and you kiss her. Let’s say it’s your first kiss. You wouldn’t do it to her while kissing her, would you?”

“I don’t wanna kiss a girl.”

“Why not?”

“They hate me.”

“But what if they didn’t hate you? Would you kiss a girl then?”

“No.”

“No?” Sandra’s eyes opened wide. “Why not?”

“I don’t love them.”

“You don’t love me, but you kiss me.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed and he looked down. “I do love you.”

“I don’t mean like a friend or a mother. I mean—”

“I don’t think of you as a mother. I love you like a girlfriend.”

“Peter, I’m old enough to be your mother.”

“You’re younger than my mother.”

“Not by much. My daughter is older than you.”

“So what? I can’t help it. I love you. I don’t care if you’re older than me. Please don’t tell me that you don’t love me.”

Sandra was stunned. Could Peter take another rejection? His father had rejected him. His mother had abused him and never showed him any love. Sandra didn’t know if Peter ever had a crush on a girl or even a teacher in school, but she was positive that, if he had, nothing good had come from it. She stared at his face, at his pouting bottom lip, his watery eyes. The wrong word could undo any good she had done and possibly scar him for life.

Sandra cupped his cheek. “Peter, I’m very fond of you. I wouldn’t have kissed you like we kissed if not.”

“So you don’t care that you’re older than me.” It wasn’t said as a question.

“Peter—”

“No girl ever made me feel like you do. I know it’s love. I like Madison, but I don’t love her like I do you, feel about her like I do you. Or any other girl or woman. Only you.” Sadness filled Peter’s face. “Can’t you love me even though I’m just a boy? My heart will die if I can’t love you.”

No one had ever uttered words like that to Sandra, confessed their love so strongly. When Peter had said his heart would die if he couldn’t love her, Sandra’s heart fluttered and skipped a beat. She rolled Peter onto his back and straddled his body, gazing into his eyes.

“Oh, Peter, my sweet Peter, I do love you. Maybe not like I loved other men, but there’s a place in my heart for you. I don’t understand it, but right now I don’t want to.”

Sandra leaned down and brushed her lips over Peter’s. It wasn’t what he had learned to be a kiss, but for Sandra it was more intimate. While brushing her lips over his, the tip of her tongue soon emerged like a turtle’s head from its shell and left a wet trail on his lips. Peter’s tongue shot out of his mouth to kiss her the only way he knew, but she kept moving her lips and the tip of her tongue side to side, now bumping into his protruding tongue as it passed.

When Peter grabbed the back of her head, his taking charge caused Sandra to open her mouth and accept his tongue. Their tongues danced to the song of love, or at least lust. Maybe love for him and lust for her. Sandra shifted downward. This time she was the one positioning her pussy on top of Peter’s hard cock. Her tee-shirt rode up so that only her thin panties covered her pussy. She rocked back and forth, angling her groin so that her clitoris rubbed on the length of his erection. Sometimes she pressed down and ground against his hard cock.

But that wasn’t what Sandra wanted—needed—just then. She stopped moving and sat up tall with her back straight. Peter continued to hump her pussy, but she didn’t push back. She stared into his face, a face filled with lust—or was it love?— and pulled her long tee-shirt up and over her head and tossed it to the side. It sailed through the air and floated to the floor. Sandra sat on his cock in nothing but a pair of blue panties. Peter saw her bare tits for the first time. They were round and firm with a two-inch space between them. The nipples were dark and thick and long.

Peter humped harder. Sandra, afraid he would climax, moved onto his belly so that his cock no longer touched her. Peter continued humping the air and she saw the frustration on his face. He put his hands on her hips and tried to force her back onto his hard cock. Sandra ripped his hands off her hips and carried them to her breasts.

“These are yours tonight,” Sandra said.

Peter’s hands remained idle with his spread fingers slightly sunk in the flesh where Miss Huxley had placed them. Sandra waited, but the boy was shocked to immobility. Or maybe he flat out didn’t know what to do. Once again taking the lead, Sandra placed her hands on top of Peter’s and squeezed. The result was his fingers sinking into her tits. She did it twice more before removing her hands. Peter kept squeezing on his own.

Peter wasn’t fondling her breasts. He was mechanically squeezing them. So Sandra climbed off him and stretched out on her back.

“Peter,” Sandra said in a husky voice, “my body is yours tonight. Look at it. Touch it. Caress it. Examine it. All of it. But first give me a kiss that shows me that you truly love me. No rubbing your cock on me. Just a loving kiss. Can you do that?”

Peter answered by scrambling onto his knees and leaning down, pressing his mouth to hers. His tongue soon found hers inside her mouth. They kissed for a couple of minutes before Sandra pushed him off her.

Breathing hard, Sandra said, “Now touch my body. And not just my breasts. My whole body.”

Miss Huxley took his hand and dragged his fingertips over her skin below her breasts.

“Like this,” Sandra said. “Caress me. And don’t just use your fingers. Use your lips and tongue. Kiss my body. Make love to my body with your hands and mouth. Look all you want. Touch all you want. My body is yours.”

Peter sat up straighter to make himself taller so that he could get a better look at Miss Huxley’s whole, almost entirely nude body from head to toe. Her face was beautiful as she gazed at him, waiting for him. He followed her thin neck to her breasts. They had flattened somewhat from when she was sitting upright, the sides bulging out a little, but they still stood up. And on top of each was a thick, dark nipple.

Peter couldn’t help it. He flicked one nipple with his fingertip. It bent to the side and sprang back, now a little longer. Miss Huxley’s moan made him look at her face. Her eyes were closed, but when they opened she smiled at him and nodded. That was all the validation he needed.

Peter continued his inspection of Miss Huxley’s body. The skin below her breasts looked so soft that he had to touch it. He stroked two fingertips over the soft skin. Her belly caved as she sucked in air. Peter liked being in control and continued his exploration. His eyes passed over her belly button to the skin between it and the top of her panties. It looked even softer than the other skin. Needing to know for sure, Peter stroked it.

Miss Huxley’s hips jerked up. Peter jerked his hand back as her rump crashed back onto the mattress. His eyes darted to her face. But he hadn’t hurt her. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing harder through a partly open mouth.

Peter’s eyes returned to the sensitive skin between her belly button and panties, but they were drawn to the panties. He studied their shape and how they clung to her body, and at the puffy area where he knew her hair would be. He liked how the leg bands dug into her skin to show the shape of her vulva. The panties were nylon. He had to feel them. Peter dragged a fingertip over the front of the panties where the hair pushed it out.