Chapter 12

In the morning I reviewed the monitors. They had recorded motion-triggered episodes throughout the night but nothing interesting. I had expected Paul to try his mom first thing in the morning but Mary was up and gone before he awoke.

I found another letter from Kevin but I passed on it when I saw a long one from a new guy named Jack that had obviously been read many times. I’m glad I did.

My name is Jack and I’d like to tell you about my mom and me. My mom and I have always been close. I guess I was a momma’s boy most of my life I had a slight build and Mom was over protective of me. So I was used hanging out with Mom and being cuddled by her. But something happened when I turned 16 - I grew, fast. I guess I had a really late teenage growth spurt. By the end of Grade 11 I had grown five inches, and the following year I grew another four and really beefed up. By the time I turned 18, I was one of the better players on our rugby team.

This certainly improved my relationship with my Dad. It was my Dad who picked me up from practices and games, and though Mom seemed pleased at her husbands new interest in her son, she also seemed a little uncomfortable as if our unique bond had been weakened. That changed when Dad went away for a few days and Mom had to pick me up.

She used Dad’s truck the first time, two days after he left, because she and her friend had first stopped to pick up some plants at the nursery. They had loaded up the back but Mom’s friend Carrie was holding a very leafy, potted plant in her lap. As I ran up to the truck, Carrie got out and motioned for me to get in. It was a single cab pickup, so it was a little awkward for me to be in the middle with my long legs but she insisted since she would be getting out first.

Carrie was my mom’s best friend and the two of them could be mistaken for sisters. They were both prettier than average with even better than average figures. Of course, I noticed this on Carrie much more than Mom. Carrie had light red hair whereas Mom’s was light brown. Both wore it shoulder length in the same kind of bushy rather than long style, that is, they had thick hair, if you know what I mean. Anyway, Carrie had nice sized boobs, a thirtysomething ass, and decent legs, just like Mom. I’d known her all my life but still got a boner thinking about her at night, which I’d done off and on since I was thirteen. Truth be known, if you dreamed about fucking Carrie you’d get horny over my Mom too, they were that much alike.

So Carrie gets out and motions me into the middle. There was no arguing with her. Carrie was used to telling me what to do, having babysat years ago, so I just got in.

“That’s right, put the guy with the long legs in the middle,” I complained, making it look more awkward than it really was.

“Oh what a tough life, poor baby” Carrie countered. “Here,” she said after I slid over next to Mom, “hold your Mom’s plant while I get in.”

I took the plant while Carrie got back in the truck, taking time to look at her tanned legs as she lifted first one leg and then the other, appreciating the way her skirt slid up and her legs stretched open as she struggled up onto the seat.

Carrie noticed me appreciating her legs and smiled. She’d caught me before checking her out but took it all in stride. She never seemed upset and as far as I could tell she hadn’t told Mom. At least, Mom had never taken me to task over it. I tried to pass the bushy plant back to Carrie after she got her seatbelt done up but she pushed it back at me.

“You keep it,” she laughed, “you need something to keep you busy.” Mom laughed at that and I wondered if Carrie had indeed told her about my prying eyes, and if it was something they joked about.

Carrie pushed the plant back into my lap and held her hand against the pot, resting it on my leg, so I couldn’t swing it back toward her. Mom did the same on the other side, keeping it from getting in the way of her driving. So we drove down the road on the ten mile trek to Carrie’s house - we lived in the country - me holding a huge plant in my lap, and the two women resting their hands on my bare thighs just below my baggy rugby shorts.

Carrie kept her hand there to block me from swinging the plant over onto her lap. This gave me an excuse to look down at her legs. We were just playing around but there was a definite flirty overtone to our hijinks. Mom kept her hand there to block the swings as Carrie pushed the plant back at me. We had gone about a mile when Mom gripped my thigh and said, “Ok, settle down now. We’re on the highway.”

Carrie and I settled down while Mom drove down the curvy country road she called a highway but both women kept their hands on my legs. Carrie couldn’t leave it alone and kept pinching me and nudging my thigh with hers which wasn’t really fair since I had to hold the plant with both hands. A certain part of me had grown since the first touch of her hand on my leg and she eventually bumped against it. Her hand froze. I looked down in shock and then at her just as she looked at me, a smile growing on her face. When her eyes met mine, she arched her eyebrows and her smile widened before her mouth pouted out into a silent ‘ohhh’.

Then she did it. She lifted her hand and moved it further up my leg, her palm skinning over my semi-stiff dick, and then she pressed in, pinning it against my thigh. I felt myself grow into her palm in small lurches, but she kept her hand pressed over me. She seemed very amused at my obvious discomfort as I looked over at Mom and then back to her.

“Are you two going to behave yourselves?” Mom asked, patting the inside of my other leg, trying to look around the plant at Carrie.

“We promise,” Carrie assured her, “we’ll just sit still until we get home.”

So we drove on, Carrie keeping her warm hand pressed on my shorts, my hardening cock threatening to peek out the leg. That’s all she did, just pressed on it. She didn’t move her hand at all.

When we stopped in front of Carrie’s house, she exaggerated her motions getting out of the truck, sticking her right leg right out the door while keeping her left still instead of swinging both out together. With her legs parted like that, she leaned her head back to speak to Mom, forcing me to lean forward so they could talk. Carrie’s skirt had been forced very high as she opened her legs, exposing her panties to my curious eyes as she talked to Mom.

“So can you bring Jack with you the day after tomorrow so he can pick that stuff up in the truck?” Carrie asked, adding, “You know how useless Jim is, he’s as bad as John,” she made lighthearted disparaging references her husband and my Dad.

“Oh, Carrie,” Mom answered, “you know I’m busy then.”

“Oh yeah, shoot,” Carrie replied, sounding disappointed.

“How about I just send him over on his own? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you out, would you, Jack?” Mom asked me.

I was still looking up Carrie’s skirt and didn’t answer.

“Jack?” Mom repeated.

Carrie smiled at me, her face taking on an exaggerated questioning expression watching me look up her skirt, but my eyes turned back to her skirt when her right hand tugged it even higher so I could see the entire front of her panties.

“Oh, no. I don’t mind,” I mumbled to Carrie’s very broad smile.

She stepped out of the truck then but turned back to grasp the plant.

“Here,” she said, pulling it out of my lap, “just hold it here until you get home.”

She set the plant down in the seat next to me and shut the door. Mom drove away with me still sitting in the middle, my hand holding the plant, and my hard cock bulging proudly in my now uncovered lap with Mom’s hand still holding my other leg.

We drove home in silence. I couldn’t get my boner to subside, not with Mom’s hand still gripping my bare leg and my mind playing Carrie’s handling of it over and over in my head. Thankfully, Mom never looked down, but she didn’t let go of me either. When we got home, Mom hopped out of the truck right away. Without turning to look at me, she asked me to bring the plant into the kitchen. She was nowhere to be seen by the time I got there and it was a long time later that I noticed her unloading the other plants from the back of the truck.

The next day was Sunday and it was just a practice. When Mom pulled up, I was pleased to see that Carrie was with her again. Carrie stepped out of the truck holding a plant very similar to the one I’d held the day before. She had a very big smile on her face which I barely noticed because she was wearing a very short, pleated tennis skirt.

As I clambered into the truck, Mom apologized, “I’m sorry, Jack, but Carrie insisted I get another one to match the one we bought yesterday.”

She didn’t seem sorry. In fact, she was laughing and didn’t even seem to be upset at catching me ogling her friend’s legs and short, short skirt. When I turned to take the proffered plant from Carrie’s hands before she too climbed into the truck, I felt Mom’s hand slide over my bare leg to take its place, a little higher than yesterday. She got underway as soon as Carrie shut the door.

Carrie also immediately slipped her hand onto my leg but let her fingers slowly scratch the inside of my leg until I reacted and then slid her hand back toward my groin until she felt my swelling member. Like the day before, she slid her hand over my shorts until it was resting right on my cock but this time she didn’t just hold her hand still, she squeezed me. My hips lurched and I almost cried out.

“You guys aren’t going to start fighting over the plant again, are you?” Mom asked, her own hand gripping my other thigh. I couldn’t answer.

“No,” Carrie said, “I think Jack’s going to be a good boy today, aren’t you Jack?” Carrie was smiling big time. She was really enjoying herself.

I nodded my head, into the plant leaves.

“Good,” Mom said, her hand patting and then rubbing my leg.

I looked down at Carrie’s skirt to find that she had opened her legs and was showing me her panties, holding her skirt in her hand up by her hip. Her smile widened in considerably enhanced amusement when she saw the look on my face. She squeezed my cock, twisted her hips, pushing her panties outward, and blew me a kiss.

I don’t know how I didn’t come. Carrie removed her hand but periodically brought it back to squeeze my cock. I think she knew I would have exploded had she kept her hand there, and I also think she knew just when she could touch me again without causing an embarrassing accident. I don’t think I took my eyes off her panties all the way to her house.

“Remember tomorrow,” Carrie reminded Mom and I as she positioned the plant in the seat beside me. She waved to us as we drove away, my eyes looking back to admire her legs for as long as I could. When we turned back on the road, I realized that Mom’s hand was still on the inside of my leg.

“She really has nice legs, doesn’t she?” Mom asked as she accelerated down the road. She didn’t look at me but as she reached cruising speed, her hand slid back pushing the pantleg of my shorts higher, keeping her hand on my bare skin.

Caught off guard, I replied, “Just like you, Mom. You two could be mistaken for each other except for the color of your hair.”

I had meant to assert that Carrie’s legs weren’t any better than Mom’s but I realized after saying it that I couldn’t know that unless I’d been looking at Mom’s too. I couldn’t help but look down at Mom’s legs as soon as I said that, realizing that she too was wearing a short tennis skirt. I guess they’d actually been playing tennis and Carrie hadn’t worn it just to tease me.

Mom squeezed my leg then and gave it a little rub.

“It’s ok, son. Carrie doesn’t mind if you look at her legs. Actually, I think she likes it.” She rubbed my leg again, then added, “I don’t mind either.”

Mom didn’t clarify that statement. Did she mean she didn’t mind if I looked at Carrie’s legs, or that she didn’t mind if I looked at hers, like I was doing now? Mom’s legs were just as nice and, in fact, I could have been looking at Carrie’s body for all that matter. My cock, lacking any sense of discretion, lurched and I could feel it graze the knuckles on the back of Mom’s hand. My body went rigid. Holy shit.

But Mom didn’t say or do anything. She just kept studying the road intently, her hand still on my leg. My cock throbbed again, clearly bumping the back of Mom’s hand and she still didn’t react. She was gripping the steering wheel, her body as tense as mine. I moved my eyes up from her legs to roam over her chest. She was wearing a zippered fleece, half open to reveal a sports bra type t-shirt thing that showed the top and insides of her breasts, the freckles distributed over those tanned swells seeming to sparkle in the afternoon sunlight.

She must surely be aware of my gaze but she acted as if nothing was happening, as if I wasn’t obviously checking her out, and that my cock wasn’t grazing the back of her hand. We drove the rest of the way home like that, in silence. By the time Mom stopped the truck, I had leaned her way so that my cock was steadily resting against her hand. She got out of the truck and disappeared as quickly as the day before without saying a word.

The next day after school, Mom yelled down the stairs just as I was leaving for Carrie’s to say she was coming with me. I was quite disappointed, having worked myself all night imagining various scenarios, all of which ended with me fucking Carrie in the kitchen, the living room floor, bent over the her couch, on her bed holding her feet high and wide, and fifty other positions.

Waiting in the truck for Mom, a sullen look on my face, I perked up when Mom came into view carrying the plant we’d brought home yesterday. She was wearing a very short, tight skirt that I had never seen her wear. It must have been something she’d worn years ago. It rode very high up as she stepped into the truck and yielded a great flash of her panties as she moved over to the middle, setting the plant next to her by the door.

“I want to surprise Carrie with this,” she explained her impromptu decision to come along. She patted my leg, “Let’s go.”

Mom left her hand on my leg as I drove away. I was wearing a pair of shorts but they were tighter on my legs than my rugby shorts. As soon as her hand touched me, I started to firm up, a process that accelerated when I looked at Mom’s chest. She was wearing a white cotton blouse with the top three buttons undone and I could see right down between her breasts.

My shorts were bulging big time as we drove over to Carrie’s and my boner was creeping down the pantleg on Mom’s side. She hadn’t moved her hand higher on my leg like she’d done the day before. Maybe that had been accidental. Like yesterday, we didn’t speak. We drove like that right up to Carrie’s house but before we got out, Mom did up a couple of buttons on her blouse.

“You know old Jim,” she explained, sliding out my side of the truck.

I watched as Mom stepped out, holding her hand out for me to help. She didn’t make any attempt to keep her skirt down as she worked her legs out of the truck, or to keep them closed. She really gave me a good look at her panties, keeping her head down so I was free to look. Was she jealous of her friend, fighting for attention? No way, I thought, but I had no explanation for her new behavior.

I couldn’t tell if Carrie was pleased or not when she saw Mom. They nodded to each other as Mom walked past on her way to put the plant in the kitchen sink, Carrie stopped me in the living room and gave me a big hug, curling her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts into me, and pushing her hips against me.

She whispered huskily into my ear, “Hello, plant boy,” kissed me on the cheek, and added, “Were you afraid to come on your own?”

She laughed as she pulled away and turned to join my mother. My boner, having renewed itself, kept me from joining them for a few minutes until Mom called me to help Carrie put some stuff in the truck that we were going to take to the dump for her. We finished just as Uncle Jim came home. While Mom was talking to him, Carrie pulled me into the garage, out of sight. She immediately hugged me again, pressing her body tight to mine, planting a soft kiss right on my lips.

She pulled back, still holding my shoulders, to say, “You’re a big boy now, Jack. You can visit me without bringing your mother, you know.”

I was feeling a little awkward, and nervous since my back was to the open garage door and I couldn’t see Mom and Uncle Jim. Carrie noticed my nervousness.

“Well, you think about it,” she traced her finger down my chest, then pulled it back to rest between her breasts, pouting her lips. “I’d hate to think you don’t like me anymore.”

“I’ve always liked you, Aunt Carrie,” I blurted out.

She smiled at my childish outburst. “You’re a man now, Jack. You can call me Carrie when we’re alone.”

She stepped up on her tippy toes and gave me another quick kiss on my lips, then brushed past me to join my mother and her husband. When I turned to follow, I saw that Mom was already on her way to the garage and Uncle Jim was walking toward the house.

Mom sat in the passenger side as we headed home but when we were out of sight of Carrie’s house, she unbuckled her belt and slid over into the middle. Buckling up again, Mom slipped her hand between my legs.

“What were you and Carrie talking about in the garage?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I answered, my reddening face belying my voice.

“Come on, tell me,” Mom said, her hand sliding up my leg to the hem of my shorts.

“Nothing,” I answered.

“Come on,” she insisted, her hand sliding over my shorts, the edge of her hand stopping just before the lump made by the end of my penis.

“Really, Mom. She was just talking about garage stuff.” I could feel pins and needles on my face and knew it must be beet red.

“Tell me,” Mom whispered, lifting her hand, sliding it back, positioning it over my lump, just like Carrie had done the day before, except Mom held hers aloft, not touching me. “Tell me,” she whispered again.

“Mom,” I wheedled, my voice drawn out, begging her to stop.

“I want to know,” her low, throaty voice made my cock pulse under my shorts. “Tell me,” she demanded.

Mom let her hand settle on my leg, letting it rest lightly over my bulge, almost as if her touch was accidental. I grew into her palm. Afraid. Her hand pressed down harder, curling over my hidden shaft, clearly showing she was aware of what was there.

“Were you talking about how she did this to you yesterday?”

Shocked but also delighted, I nodded. Mom squeezed me, like Carrie had, but it felt infinitely better for some reason. I don’t know why.

“Did she promise to do it again?”

Mom was milking my cock now, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing.

I shook my head.

“Tell me the truth. Did she say she’d do more?”

Squeezing harder now. I was afraid to answer. I didn’t want her to freak out on Carrie and lose her best friend. More selfishly, I had to admit I was more concerned that might end my seemingly good chance to do more with Carrie.

Reading me like an open book, Mom said, “Don’t worry, I won’t stop you. If she wants to throw herself at you, she can. I just want to know.” She moved her thumb, finding the tip of my cock under my shorts, pinching it lightly, almost making me come.

“She invited me over, by myself,” I gasped, my hips jerking against Mom’s hand.

“The bitch!” Mom exclaimed, “I just knew it!”

Mom slid her hand down my leg, off my cock.

“I’ll be alone when I pick you up tomorrow,” she barked angrily.

She pulled her hand completely away a couple miles further down the road. We drove the rest of the way home in silence. You can’t trust women, I thought. She’ll tell Carrie what I said and then she’ll get mad too and I won’t get anything. I almost started to cry.

True to her word, Mom was alone when she came to pick me up the next day after practice. She didn’t look angry but she didn’t speak to me as we headed out of town. I settled in for a long trip home.

A mile out of town, Mom patted the seat beside her.

“Sit here,” she said, “I want to talk to you.”

I was still mad about the way Mom had tricked me and I definitely didn’t want to talk about Carrie in case I made it worse.

“I can hear you from here,” I countered glumly.

“Please. Sit here.” Mom patted the seat again.

Frowning, I reluctantly unbuckled my belt and moved next to her, doing my belt up in an exaggerated fashion to indicate that I was upset.

“Don’t be mad at me, honey,” Mom slipped her hand onto my leg, patting it.

“You said you wouldn’t say anything,” I complained.

“No. I said I wouldn’t stop you,” she corrected me, “but I won’t say anything either.”

“You won’t?” my voice raised in a query.

“I won’t,” she said.

We drove on in silence for a minute. Mom was driving slower than usual.

“So, what attracts you so much to Aunt Carrie?” Mom asked, her voice calm and quiet.

“Mom,” I drawled in a whining voice.

“I was just wondering. I mean, she’s as old as me. She’s not like girls your age.”

“That’s just it. They’re not interesting. They so full of themselves, always playing silly games to make you go after them. Aunt Carrie isn’t like that.”

“No. And she doesn’t have anything to keep her busy at home, either, like me, I guess,” Mom said, surprising me with her reference to Uncle Jim which seemed contrary to her previous comment implying he was a bit of a lech. I didn’t say anything to that, or the way she’d lumped Dad in.

“Well, your Aunt Carrie is just like family. You really shouldn’t do anything with her that you wouldn’t do with your own mother.”

That statement took me by surprise. I had no idea how to respond, so I just sat still.

Mom’s hand slid up my leg a moment later, right up over my shorts to where my boner had been the day before but there wasn’t anything there today, her actions up to this point not being exactly encouraging. But the presence of her hand, and her strange statement, were causing a stir. Her hand kneaded my thigh.

“You won’t, will you?” Mom asked.

I didn’t say anything. Mom stroked her hand deeper between my legs, them rubbed her palm against me as she pulled her hand back. My cock stiffened, straightening out in my shorts under her hand. She rubbed her hand down again, rolling my hardening shaft on my leg.

“You won’t, will you,? she repeated, rolling her hand back.

“No,” I whispered.

“Promise?” she rolled me down.

“Promise,” I answered.

“That’s good. Your mom should be special.”

“You are, Mom,” I whispered with difficulty, my breath catching as she rolled her hand harder over and back on my cock.

“I mean it,” Mom whispered, “don’t you dare do anything you wouldn’t do for me. I’M your mom.”

“I won’t, Mom. I promise,” breathing quickly now.

Mom’s hand suddenly slid away but quickly sprang back pushing my shorts higher, right off my now fully extended boner. Her hand slipped over my shaft, the feel of the soft skin on her palm making me gasp and my cock lurch.

“You better not,” she warned me as her fingers closed around me. She held me in her grip for the next few miles home. I couldn’t believe I didn’t come. Mom drove up the driveway, stopped the car in front of the garage, and turned the key off with her left hand. She sat there, staring straight ahead, one hand holding her keys, the other loosely gripping my cock, her fingers curling around it. Slowly, she started moving her hand, jacking me off. Faster and faster she moved until her hand was moving very quickly. I had a hard time breathing and was moaning softly, my head down, watching her jack my cock. I exploded, my cock bursting like a volcano, spraying the dash in front of me, covering the ashtray, spurting cum on the radio. Mom opened the door after my last squirt.

“You better clean the car,” she said, “your Dad will be home tomorrow. She shut the door and walked briskly into the house.

Dad was home. The best few days in my short life were now over. I couldn’t see how things could continue with Dad around, especially when he would be picking me up from games and practices. Nothing happened all week. Dad picked me up from practice on Thursday and he also took me to the game on Saturday, stayed to watch, talking with other parents, and took me home. All the way, I played those blissful few days over in my head and had to hold my jersey in my lap to cover my boner.

After Church on Sunday, we went home to have lunch. When we finished, I went upstairs to change for practice and overheard Mom asking Dad if he minded if she took me to practices. “I know you like to watch the games, dear, but I want to be involved too.”

“Oh. Sure, Marg, I understand,” Dad answered.

My rising star subsided on the way into town however when Mom didn’t invite me to sit next to her and barely spoke to me. After the game, it was the same, and she didn’t pat the seat beside her a mile out of town either.

“Uncle Jim asked Dad if you could go over to help him with something,” Mom said, her eyes on the road.

“Oh?” I commented.

“I’m sure your Aunt Carrie is behind it.”

“Mom. You’re best friends. You shouldn’t be mad at her.”

Mom looked thoughtful, then her face brightened and she said, “You’re right. I’m being silly.”

I shrugged. “A little,” I said.

“She can’t help it if she thinks you’re handsome and has nice legs to attract you,” Mom said.

“Nope,” I smiled at Mom, “it’s not a crime.”

Laughing, Mom said, “And I bet she showed them to you, didn’t she?”

“Mom, don’t start.”

Mom dropped her right hand down to her knee and pulled her skirt up a couple of inches.

“Did she pull her skirt up for you?”

I nodded, wondering what she was up to.

“Like this?” she asked.

Nodding, I said, “Higher.”

“Like this?” Mom asked again, pulling her skirt up a couple more inches.

“Higher.”

“No.”

“She did.”

Mom pulled her skirt higher. It was now only four inches below her crotch.

“Even higher, Mom.”

“No way. She didn’t.”

I raised my eyes and nodded.

“Show me,” Mom said, tipping her head, indicating I should come closer.

I unbuckled my belt and shifted to the middle, my excitement rising just by sliding into that favored position. I reached down toward Mom’s skirt.

“Buckle up,” Mom said.

Quickly, I buckled my belt, fumbling it a couple of times. Mom laughed at my clumsiness.

“Something on your mind, Jack?”

The belt finally clicked in and I reached down to grasp her skirt, holding the hem right between her legs.

“Show me, Jack.” There was excitement in Mom’s voice too.

I pushed her skirt up, bunching it before my hand. I kept pushing, very slowly, giving Mom the chance to stop me, not wanting to go to far, but she kept silent. I pushed until my hand was stopped by her tummy. She looked down, then raised her eyes back to the road. I slid my hand to the side of her hip and tugged the skirt up there too. Mom lifted her leg a little, allowing me to pull the skirt up. I slid my hand, following the hem, across to her other hip and tugged there. Mom lifted that leg as well. Shifting my hand back to the center, between her legs, I lifted the skirt up along her tummy, baring her panties. I leaned forward so I could look past her breasts which were heaving a little with her more rapid breathing.

“So, are my legs as nice as hers?” Mom asked, her breaking voice betraying her excitement.

“Absolutely, Mom. They’re awesome.”

“But Jack, you’re not even looking at my legs. What are you looking at?” Mom teased.

I blushed furiously but kept my eyes on her panties, in particular, on the bulge pushing out between her legs.

“Do you like that, Jack?”

“Yes. You’re awesome, Mom.”

“Hmmmm, that’s nice to hear. I haven’t been called awesome before.” Mom laughed. Her leg rose as she moved her foot from the gas to the brake, slowing the car. “Let’s take the long way home,” she said, turning down Curtis Road, a country lane that looped back onto the highway but took us a few miles out of our way.

As we drove away from the main road, I put my hand on her leg, on top of her thigh. Mom was concentrating on the road and gave no indication she was aware I was touching her. I started to scratch my fingers on her leg, slowly digging deeper between her thighs, sliding my fingers closer and closer to that beautiful mound of panties. Mom drove on, commenting on how beautiful the country was out here. Scratch, scratch, my fingers were itching to dive right in but I held them back. Slowly, slowly, I cautioned myself. Don’t rush, don’t make a mistake.

Mom tensed up and looked nervous as a car rounded the bend ahead of us but relaxed when it turned out to be nobody we knew. She expelled her breath in a big sigh. I shifted my hand right down, my fingers hitting the seat between her legs. The skirt fell over my hand, blocking my view of her panties. Mom looked down, then returned her eyes to the road. I kept my hand still, against the very soft skin of her upper thighs, my hand now touch both legs.