Chapter 11

The next morning, I woke up later than usual. So late, in fact, that Erin had already left the cabin. When I peered over the side of the top bunk, I saw that Mom had also just woken up. She was farther along than I was, but still sleepy-eyed.

“G’morning, sweet pea.”

“Morning, Mom.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

I nodded. “You?”

She smiled, yawned, and stretched, then nodded slowly. “I think I had a little too much wine last night, though,” she said with a rueful grin.

My stomach dropped. I quickly wondered if she even remembered all that had happened. What if she didn’t remember? What if she did remember, but she was mad at me? What if... ? A million different thoughts lashed at my brain, none of them good. I ruthlessly suppressed my rising panic.

“C’mon sleepyhead. Time to get up,” she said, heading for the bathroom.

When she came out again, I was still in bed. I had a morning erection, and just watching her body as she walked out of the bathroom made it swell.

“What’s keeping you? Are you feeling okay?” she asked, worry creeping into her voice.

I nodded, smiling, and decided that a morning erection probably wasn’t going to startle Mom. Not at this point.

As I climbed down the ladder, my stiff penis bobbed in front of me. When Mom saw my hard-on, she raised her eyebrows and then looked up at me. I merely shrugged; she laughed, shaking her head.

I walked past her into the bathroom as she began brushing her hair. I brushed my teeth and then combed my hair. When I was done, my erection had subsided to the point where I could pee.

“Paul,” Mom said seriously, when I came out of the bathroom, “we need to talk about last night.”

Panic threatened to overwhelm me again and I stared at her, mouth suddenly dry.

“It’s okay,” she said gently, “I’m not mad or anything. We just need to talk about it.”

She patted the bed next to her and I reluctantly shuffled toward her. She smiled as I sat down next to her. I was acutely aware of her body as she turned toward me to speak.

“What we did...” she started. “What we did wasn’t ... wrong, exactly, but a lot of people might not understand it.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I don’t know if I understand it myself,” she said quietly. “Mothers and sons aren’t supposed to have sex.”

“Why not?” I interrupted her.

“I don’t know why not, and I can’t come up with a really good reason. I guess it has to do with birth defects or religion ... or both. But it’s not supposed to happen.”

I looked at her, suddenly blinking back tears. Panic at the thought of her rejecting me threatened to overwhelm me.

“Ohhh, it’s okay, honey,” she said. “I know, it’s already happened with us. And it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let it happen, but I just ... I don’t know what happened, Paul. I’d like to think that I had too much to drink. But I’m too honest with myself to believe that. I know that alcohol doesn’t make you do things you weren’t thinking about in the first place.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“Oh, honey, I liked it a lot. Too much. It’s just that...” She stopped, searching for a way to express herself. “Well, what’s in the past is in the past,” she said with finality. “There’s nothing we can do about what happened. We just need to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Can you do that for me, honey?”

“What if I don’t want to? I want it to happen again. I liked it.”

“I did too, Paul. I really did. But we can’t ... I can’t ... let it happen again. Do you understand why?”

“No.”

“Someday, you will.”

“No, I won’t. I love you.”

“I love you too, Paul. But we can’t do what ... We can’t have sex again.”

“But what if that’s not what I want?”

“I’m sorry, Paul, but that’s the way it has to be.” She put her arm around me. “Please, Paul, it has to be this way.” She looked at me, holding my eyes with hers. I could see the pleading and the love in them. “For me,” she said softly.

I shrugged, and she squeezed me tight, laying her face on my shoulder.

“I love you, Paul,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Mom.”

While Mom and I were fixing breakfast, Susan came into the clubhouse. She walked over to talk to us and then we all sat down at one of the tables.

“How’re you feeling today, Beth?”

“A little delicate. You?”

“The same.”

The two women smiled ruefully at each other.

“Next time, one bottle of wine,” Susan said.

“Definitely.”

“How are you doing this morning, Paul?”

“Me? I’m fine.”

“I’ll bet you are,” Susan said, chuckling. “I hope you two had a good time last night.”

“We did,” Mom said before I could answer. “And Paul and I have already had a talk about it. We both enjoyed ourselves, but it won’t happen again.”

“Are you sure?” Susan asked.

Mom nodded firmly. I just shrugged. I still wasn’t convinced that Mom’s reasons were any good. But what could I do?

“Okay, then,” Susan said abruptly, changing the subject. “Paul and I have to head to town today to pick up the fiberglass roof panels. They should be in by now. Dwight wanted to start on them tomorrow,” she said, turning to me. “He says you two work well as a team.”

I blushed deeply and almost choked on my Froot Loops.

“What’s he talking about, Paul?” Susan asked.

“I helped him make his barbecue sauce yesterday morning,” I half-lied.

“Ah. Good. Anyway,” she said, looking at me sidelong, “he says it should only take a couple of hours, if that, and I’ll have a roof on my back patio again.”

“That’s wonderful,” Mom said. “What time do you need to leave for town?”

“About half past noon. I’ll feed Paul lunch, if you’d like.”

“Paul?” Mom asked, turning to me.

“Fine with me.”

“Okay, then, see you at noon.”

With that, Susan got up and headed out the front door of the clubhouse.

I spent most of the morning with Gina, Manfred and Jenny. Manfred and Jenny weren’t too annoying to be around, and we all had fun in the lake. The girls floated on inflatable rafts and Manfred and I towed them around, when we weren’t simply goofing off, that is. After a while, Gina and Jenny simply held their rafts together and let us swim around and generally act like fifteen-year-olds.

By midmorning, I was waterlogged and thoroughly cold. I bid my friends farewell and headed up to our cabin to collect my clothes. I decided to shower at the cabin, and then go ahead and get dressed before I went to Susan’s.

When I arrived at Susan’s, I was a little early. I had to knock on the kitchen door twice before she opened it. As usual, she wasn’t wearing her bikini bottoms around the house.

“Sorry, I was paying bills in the office. I didn’t expect you this early. C’mon in.”

I stepped into the cool of the kitchen and she shut the door behind me.

“Have you showered?” she asked, turned to look at me. “Yeah, I guess you have. Too bad...”

“Sorry.”

“No problem, c’mon back to the bedroom. You can talk to me while I shower, and then you can help me pick out what I’m going to wear. We can make a quick lunch, and then we’ll be on our way.”

“Are you excited?” Susan asked as I got back in the car after locking the camp gate.

I thought about it for a second, then nodded. I was definitely looking forward to seeing Stacy again. I didn’t know what would happen, but it should be fun!

“Me too.”

I looked over at Susan as she drove. The outfit we’d picked out was fairly simple. She wore her strappy sandals, a light blue gauzy skirt, and a tight white shirt with short sleeves and a scoop neck. No panties, no bra. Her shirt was so tight and thin that in direct sunlight I could easily see her nipples. Even in dimmer light, her nipples poked through and were clearly visible.

As I looked at her, I felt my penis stiffen. Not into a full-blown erection, but into a comfortable state of semi-hardness. I also worked up the courage to ask her what I’d been dying to talk about the entire drive.

“Susan?”

“Yes?”

“Um ... well...”

“What is it, Paul? There’s no need to be shy around me. Especially now,” she said with a smile.

“Well, there’s something that Stacy did to you last time we were there.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“That I was kinda thinking about maybe trying.”

“Mmm hmm.” She gestured for me to continue.

“Maybe Stacy could teach me to ... um ... er ... I mean, do you think Stacy could teach me how to go down on a girl?”

“Mmmmm, yes,” Susan said, her eyes bright. “I think she could do that.”

I could tell that Susan had really enjoyed whatever Stacy had done, and I made a mental note that I’d like to be able to make her feel like that too. The few close-up looks that I’d had of her pussy had fascinated me, and I was eager to learn more about how her body worked.

After that, the rest of the drive to town was relatively uneventful. We chatted about mostly mundane things; the whole time, however, I was thinking about Stacy, and my excitement built.

We pulled into the Winn-Dixie parking lot a few minutes before two o’clock. Stacy was waiting for us, carrying a gym bag. As she got in the car, she threw it across the back seat and then closely followed it, shutting the door behind her...

“I was so worried that you wouldn’t be here,” Stacy said breathlessly.

Susan smiled indulgently. I turned in the seat to hook my arm over the head rest so I could talk to Stacy, who was sitting almost directly behind me.

“Could you pull away from the store, out on the edge of the parking lot somewhere? Just for a second?”

“Sure,” Susan answered. “What’s up?”

“I want to change clothes before we go to the hardware store. I think I’m ready to try a little showing off in public.”

Susan parked the car in the middle of the lot, away from any other cars. I watched, fascinated, as Stacy unzipped her gym bag. She took out some clothes and a small zipper bag. Then she systematically removed all her work clothes. She wasn’t the least bit shy about stripping off her clothes in front of me. She even looked up and smiled, enjoying putting on a show for me. Her body, if possible, was even better than I remembered—thin and lithe, with firm breasts and little pink cone-shaped nipples.

Once she had her work clothes off, she stuffed them into the gym bag and opened the smaller zipper bag. She pulled out a compact and opened it to scrutinize her face. I hadn’t noticed her wearing make-up the last time I’d seen her, although in retrospect, I suppose she had been. Her make-up was understated, and actually made her look better instead of covering up. She studied herself in the small compact mirror and decided she looked okay.

Stacy separated the two pieces of clothing she’d pulled from the gym bag. Susan had also turned in her seat to watch, and suddenly Stacy looked up at us and grinned infectiously.

“I brought the cut-off overalls.”

“I like those,” I said.

“I thought you would,” she said, grinning.

She lifted a red t-shirt and held it up so we could see. It had been cut off at about the midriff. Stacy put her arms through and then pulled it over her head. When she tugged it down and put her arms at her sides, it didn’t quite cover the bottom curve of her breasts.

“It took me three tries to get it cut right,” she said, examining the shirt. “First, I cut it way too long. And then I cut it much shorter, but when I moved, you couldn’t see enough. Finally, this!” she said with a flourish.

She lifted her arms and folded them behind her head, closing her eyes and arching her back in a stretch. The shirt lifted to reveal the entire underside of her breasts. I almost chuckled at the sight of her, wearing only an abbreviated red t-shirt, nude from practically the nipples down.

When she opened her eyes and lowered her arms, she was grinning. I looked at Susan, and she was grinning as well.

“Very nice,” Susan said.

I nodded enthusiastically.

Stacy pulled on her cut-off overalls and began buckling the bib.

“Remember,” Susan said, “the key is to make it look like it’s an accident, like you didn’t mean to expose yourself.”

Stacy nodded. “I’m not brave enough to go out without the shirt yet. I thought I’d try this first. Besides,” she said pulling the leg of the overalls to the side, “these’re big enough that somebody should be able to catch a glimpse, if I want ‘em to.”

As she pulled the leg of the overalls to the side, I could see all the way up her inner thigh right to her brown pubic hair.

She finished off her outfit with a pair of sandals and then tugged her skimpy t-shirt into place.

“Voila!” she said with another flourish.

“Very nice,” Susan said appreciatively. “Ready to hit the hardware store?”

“Like a tornado!”

At McMaster’s Hardware, Susan quickly found Mike, the owner’s son, and asked about our fiberglass panels.

He was polite about it, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Susan’s nipples. She practically beamed as he offered to help her load the panels in the back of the station wagon.

Stacy grabbed my hand and pulled me to the garden section in the back of the store.

“Hello, Stacy,” an older man said as we stepped out onto the large covered patio.

“Hiya, Mr. McMasters,” Stacy said cheerfully. “This is my friend Paul.”

I stepped forward to shake his work-callused hand and we traded greetings.

“What can I do for you today?” he asked, his eyes roaming over all her exposed skin. I hid my grin as she flirted shamelessly with him.

“I was thinking about some of the mixed seeds you have, and maybe some of the smaller pots,” she said, pointing to a top shelf where the smaller pots were stored.

As she did so, her shirt predictably rode up, and I saw the older man’s eyes open wider as the entire bottom curve of her right breast was revealed. The thing she hadn’t counted on, however, was the bib strap. The strap trapped the fabric of the t-shirt and caused it to bunch as she lowered her arm. The denim of the overalls simply grabbed the cotton of the t-shirt better than the smooth skin of her breast did.

I smothered another grin.

Mr. McMasters’ gaze had not followed her arm as she pointed, being riveted to her partially exposed breast, and he belatedly looked up. He had started to sweat, and took out a red bandana to wipe his brow. From her right side, he could see the entire enticing curve of her breast.

“Just let me get the step ladder and we’ll see what we can do for you,” he said.

In a moment, he returned with an aluminum step ladder and set it up. As he looked up to make sure he’d set it up in the right place, Stacy poked me in the ribs, gesturing at me with her eyes. She wanted me to climb up and get the pots and seeds.

No problem. What did I care?

“Here, Mr. McMasters, why don’t you let me climb up there and get ‘em?”

“Why, thank you, son,” he said, stepping back.

From the top of the step ladder, I reached for the small pots.

“Four please,” Stacy said up to me.

I obediently stacked four of the small pots on top of the tray containing packets of mixed seeds and slid it off the shelf. Instead of letting me simply climb down with the tray, Stacy reached up with both hands to take it from me. One glance at poor old Mr. McMasters told me why she’d done it.

With both her arms in the air, her cropped t-shirt had ridden up until only her nipples were hidden, just as she’d planned. With a smirk, I held the tray just out of her reach, enjoying the expression on the old man’s face as he took in the sight before him. Finally, I lowered the tray to where she could reach it. I climbed down as Mr. McMasters once again whipped out his bandana and wiped his neck and brow.

“Thanks, Paul,” Stacy said.

“No problem.”

When I reached the bottom rung, I could appreciate why the old man was so interested. When she had raised both hands, Stacy’s crop-top had ridden up and been trapped by the bib straps. Only her nipples were hidden by the buckles of the straps. The outer curves of both her breasts were clearly visible.

She took the four small pots off the seed tray and picked out several packets of mixed seeds. Then she handed the pots to Mr. McMasters to hold and gestured for me to climb back up the step ladder. Once at the top step, she reached up to hand me the tray. She stretched far higher than she had to, however, getting the tray well over her head. I could have just as easily reached down to lift it, but I was enjoying watching her put on her show.

As she extended her arms to hand me the tray, she twisted a little, and I could tell from the look on her face that something unexpected had happened. I looked down and could clearly see that her right breast was almost fully exposed, puffy nipple clearly visible. Poor old Mr. McMasters nearly dropped the flower pots he was holding, bobbling them and only catching them at the last instant.

With a grin, I took the tray from her and slid it back on the top shelf. When I climbed down, she had straightened her t-shirt and was blushing furiously. Mr. McMasters was even more flustered than Stacy, and had turned as red as his bandana.

“Thank you, Paul,” she said. “I think this is all I need today, Mr. McMasters. Thanks again.”

“Any time, Stacy,” he said, whipping out the bandana once again.

When we reached the front register to pay for the flower pots and seeds, Susan was waiting for us. She was listening to Mike McMasters talk about something, but I didn’t catch what.

When we came up, she shot us an amused expression. The son rang up Stacy’s purchases and with a wave, we headed out to the car.

On the way to Stacy’s trailer, she recounted the entire episode to Susan, who listened with a wry grin of amusement.

“Sounds like you had fun.”

“Yeah! Right up until my entire tit popped out!” she said, blushing.

“You shoulda seen the look on poor old McMasters’ face. He turned about as red as his bandana!” I said.

“Wow!” Stacy exclaimed. “It was fun, though. And really exciting.”

As we entered the trailer park, Stacy spoke up from the back seat.

“You know what I wanna do?”

“What?” Susan asked, looking at her in the rear-view mirror.

“I wanna take my clothes off in the car and then leave ‘em off as I go inside!”

Stacy’s was the last trailer on the row, with only one trailer opposite hers, so there was little danger of her being seen. But it still sounded exciting.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Susan said, “I think I will too.”

I could feel both women looking at me. I caved.

“Yeah, me too,” I said.

We pulled up to the trailer and Susan turned off the car. She lifted her hips and pulled her skirt over her legs. With grins all around, we quickly stripped off our clothes.

“Put your clothes in the gym bag,” I said to Stacy over the seat, “and hand it here. We’ll stuff our clothes inside too, and I’ll carry the bag.”

Stacy looked delicious sitting in the back seat wearing only her sandals and a smile. She quickly stuffed her clothes, as well as the flower pots, in the bag and handed it forward. I took Susan’s clothes and stuffed them with my own into the bag, zipping it up when I was done.

“Ready?” asked Susan.

“Ready,” Stacy and I chorused.

As one, the three of us opened our doors and casually walked toward the door of the trailer. When we got there, Stacy turned around in a panic.

“My keys! They’re in my overalls.”

I grimaced and opened the gym bag. I rummaged around inside and eventually found the pocket with her house keys. She was clearly flustered by standing outside her trailer with no clothes on, but Susan looked amused. There was nothing I could really do except look for the keys, so I didn’t worry about it. For some unknown reason, I was unconcerned. If someone saw us, they saw us.

When I handed her the keys, Stacy hastily opened the door and bolted inside. Susan calmly followed and I brought up the rear.

“Wow!” Stacy exclaimed as soon as the door was shut. “Thank you for doing it with me,” she said excitedly.

She threw her arms around Susan and hugged her. Just as quickly she released Susan and wrapped her arms around me. I had just enough time to drop the gym bag with our clothes before she reached me. I wrapped my arms around her and she hugged me tight.

Feeling her nude body against mine, my penis quickly filled with blood. I felt it press against her soft skin and I could tell by the way she clutched me tighter that she felt it too.

When she released me, she looked down between us to where my springy erection was pressed against her stomach. Then she smiled up at me and wiggled her hips.

“I got so hot and wet in the hardware store,” she said, her arms still around my neck.

She reached between us and grasped my erection, then began rubbing it against her pussy. Her pubic hair scraped a little at first, but then her labia separated and I felt her warm wetness. She was practically dripping. She closed her eyes and bit her lip as she rubbed the head of my erection across the sensitive folds of her vulva.

Susan moved quietly behind Stacy and wrapped her arms around the younger woman. She began to caress Stacy’s very erect, very puffy nipples. Stacy moaned in pleasure and leaned back into Susan, still rubbing her pussy with my dick.

Stacy’s eyes opened and with a lustful look, she slowly sank to her knees in front of me. Susan sank with her, never removing her hands from Stacy’s breasts. Her hand still on my erection, Stacy stroked me a few times and then opened her mouth.

She could only take a few inches of my dick in her mouth, but it was enough. She stroked the base of my erection while she sucked and licked the head. She bobbed her head in time with her stroking and I relaxed and enjoyed the sensations she was creating in my dick.

I felt her move and looked down at the two women kneeling at my feet. Stacy pulled my dick from her mouth and leaned back into Susan.

“Let me suck him off,” Susan said in a husky whisper. “Then he’ll last longer the second time.”

Stacy nodded hastily and the two of them switched positions. Stacy watched in fascination as Susan attempted to swallow my entire penis. She almost succeeded. She started off taking me very deep, leaving only a couple of inches outside her mouth. Each time she bobbed her head, she’d take me a little deeper.

Stacy shifted around to cup and caress Susan’s breasts, obviously enjoying watching her suck my dick. Susan moaned and the vibration in her mouth made my cock swell. She impaled herself on my erection once again, this time taking me so deep that her nose brushed my wiry pubic hair.

She clamped her lips around my erection and paused. Then she opened her lips and slowly took more of my cock in her mouth. I felt the head of my dick in the back of her throat as she clamped her lips around the base and breathed through her nose. I was in heaven as she shut her eyes tightly and moved her tongue against the underside of my penis.

She slowly withdrew her lips from my shaft, letting me pop completely out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and licked the head, smiling at me. Gripping the base of my saliva-slick shaft with her right hand, she took me into her mouth again.

She took me deep and wrapped her lips around my shaft, taking a breath in preparation for sliding my cock all the way into her throat. Once again, she opened her lips and slowly, exquisitely swallowed the remaining inch. Breathing heavily through her nose, she simply held me in her mouth, her lower lip pressed firmly against my balls. As she withdrew my member from the warmth and wetness of her mouth, she massaged me with her tongue.

Stacy was watching in amazement as Susan took my length deep into her throat. Smiling up at me, Susan licked the crown of my dick and stroked my slick shaft with her thumb and forefinger. She then wrapped her lips around my glans and began to pump my dick with her hand.

She swirled her tongue around the tip as she stroked me toward my impending orgasm. With a rush, I felt my come boiling up through the shaft of my dick. Susan felt it too and began to pump harder. My semen spurted into her mouth and a look of ecstasy washed over her face. She pumped my cock and swallowed as I ejaculated. Pump and swallow, pump and swallow.

When I finished spurting my seed into her waiting mouth, she released her lip-lock and smiled up at me. With her right hand, she stroked my slick penis, milking the last drops from my shaft.

I looked down dreamily and saw that Stacy had dropped one hand from Susan’s breasts and was busily rubbing her smooth pussy.

Stacy withdrew her hand from Susan and looked up at me.

“Let’s go back to my bedroom,” she said.

I swallowed and nodded, helping them both to their feet.

Stacy’s bedroom was a small, tidy room, dominated by her queen-sized bed.

Without words, Stacy directed Susan to the head of the bed. She then crawled on the bed herself, spreading Susan’s legs as she moved forward. Susan bent her knees and spread her legs wide to accommodate the younger woman. I marveled at the sight of Susan’s smooth pussy lips spreading open to reveal her inner parts.

“Stacy?” I asked hesitantly.

“Hmm?” she said, turning to look at me, as if seeing me for the first time.

“Will you ... Will you show me how to go down on a woman?”

Stacy looked up at Susan from between her legs. “Do you mind?”

Susan licked her lips and shook her head.

Stacy smiled and nodded, scooting to the side and gesturing for me to lay down next to her. Then she scooted the rest of the way forward until her face was nearly touching Susan. I was a little to the side, but I had an incredible view of Susan’s pussy.

I was amazed. Her normally smooth, pale pussy lips were pinkish-red and swollen. The folds of her inner lips were just peeking out, topped by the hood where the inner lips came together at the top of her slit.

Stacy licked the tip of her index finger and looked at me.

“Always make sure your finger is wet if you touch a woman’s pussy,” she said, setting the tip of her index finger at the bottom of Susan’s opening. “You can get it wet with her juices, if you want,” she said, moving her index finger in small circles, “but a pussy is tender, so you don’t want to scrape her with rough, dry fingers.”

I nodded and watched raptly as she slowly inserted her finger into Susan, up to the second knuckle.

“Have you ever seen a pussy this close up?” Stacy asked, a twinkle in her eye.

I nodded. Then I shook my head. At the helpless and confused look on my face, Stacy laughed brightly. With a pained expression, I looked up at Susan.

“You wanted to do this,” she said. She smiled, taking the bite out of her words.

I looked back to Stacy, who grinned at me and returned her attention to Susan. Stacy gently thrust her index finger back and forth in Susan’s pussy, and when she withdrew it completely, it was slick with moisture.

Stacy shifted a bit and brought her left hand up to Susan’s pussy. With her thumb and index finger on either side of Susan’s slit, she gently opened her outer lips. She ran her right forefinger up the seam of Susan’s inner lips to the folds of the hood. Moving her left hand slightly, Stacy slowly pulled the folds of the hood back and revealed more of Susan’s pussy to me.

“See that little pink berry there?” Stacy asked, pointing with her right forefinger.

I nodded.

“That’s her clit. It’s like the head of your dick, only much more sensitive. And it’s the secret to getting a woman off. But the real trick is not to touch it directly. Or not much. Rub the base of it through the folds of the inner lips here,” she said, indicating with her left hand. Susan moaned appreciatively.

“Like your dick,” Stacy said, “her clit will get erect when she’s excited. Sometimes it’ll peek out of its little hood. If it does, put your lips around it and gently flick it with your tongue.”

Stacy stuck her right forefinger back into Susan’s pussy and let the outer lips relax back against the hood covering her clit. Then Stacy slowly thrust her finger back and forth, once again coating it with Susan’s lubricating juices.

“Also, the crease between her inner and outer lips is real sensitive,” Stacy said, running her slick finger up between Susan’s lips. Susan shuddered and drew a deep breath. Stacy smiled and then looked at me. “When you first start, before you really get her going, run your tongue between her inner and outer lips, flicking the side of her clit at the top. She’ll love it.”

“Also, most of the skin around her pussy is sensitive too. Don’t spend all your time on her lips and clit. Kiss her where her leg joins her pussy. Kiss her inner thighs. Kiss her pussy. Run your tongue lightly over her slit. Give her clit a flick at the top, run your tongue in a circle around it. Tease her.”

“Now give me your hand,” Stacy said.

I obeyed and she turned it palm up. She folded my fingers back, leaving my index finger extended.