My parents were spending the weekend in Paris. “Be good, Simon,” they’d told me before they headed off. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“What about Stephanie?” I asked. She was out with her boyfriend Ray.

“When you’re 17,” Mom said.

“Three years,” I grumbled to myself.

It was well after midnight, and I was watching a movie when Stephanie came home. I heard her stumble at the door and fumble with the keys. I opened the door and she fell into the house, clearly drunk. No sign of Ray. I picked her up and helped her to bed.

“Ray, Ray, Ray,” she moaned, pulling me onto the bed after her. Instantly she was asleep, the sheets trapped beneath us. I couldn’t help but notice that her breasts were almost falling out of her blouse. I wondered if I should undress her. I ran my hand over her breasts to see if she would wake up. She didn’t. I gave a quick squeeze and still nothing. I pulled her breasts very carefully out of her blouse. One of my hands went straight to my cock, the other cupped her breast and gently pressed, and my fingers gently rubbed her soft nipples.