Finally though the weekend arrived and sure enough half way through my workout I heard my blender and girl talk. I got out of the pool quietly and snu...k in walked right up behind them to scare them when I heard what they were talking about it was me. I walked back a bit down the hall and listened apparently I was ripe for the picking although several times Amanda got told when she turned 18 she could jump any mans bones she liked but until then no matter how mature she might be I was off. “Oh fuck me, fuck me, fuckme fuckme fuckme...”From the side-angle we watch the dog standing over her, hindlegs bent a little, hindquarters angled so they are almost under her – fucking up rather than in – front legs around her belly, her titties jiggling – her fingers pinching at her nipples, face presses against a leather couch cushion. The dog with a dopey look on his face that half suggests he’s a dopey dog, and half suggests he’s a male that’s about to cum ... All the time, him fucking her. Well, it turns out that both of us had only kissed boys. Then the subject kind of changed and it was me who did it.At this point, I think a little background info may be in order. Being 12 I was barely in a training bra, actually a very small a-cup. I had long blonde, and I mean blonde hair, and hazel eyes. I was about 4'9" and maybe 80 pounds sopping wet. Jenn was 5'2" probably about 110 lbs and a c-cup already. She had curly dark hair and dark brown eyes. We were both still in our swimsuits,. I mentally told Pistol Packing Pete that The Preacher was innocent and didn’t kill The Pioneer. This seemed to satisfy old Pete and he vanished after a few more choice words and a great deal of grumbling. Now this apparition was spotted in those years by many people, but after that I don’t recall anyone reporting having seen Pistol Packing Pete again. Apparently what I had to say to him had actually helped to put his soul to rest. The basic story I came to understand was that Pete didn’t much.