I lingered on her porch, when I collected for the newspaper. I rode my bike past her house almost every day and stopped to talk with her, when I saw h...r in the yard. I thought that I had made real progress, when Miss Foster invited me into her kitchen for hot cocao on a particularly cold and rainy April Saturday as I was collecting for the newspaper. I stood next to the stove, looking up at her in open admiration of her beauty. I was then about five feet tall, but she was a head taller. She. .. look at each other.”The woman was rolling her eyes. What was wrong with kids these days? It was probably the Internet; not like back in the late Eighties. Of course, she had done this sort of thing herself at the age of eight or nine, but that was only her and one or two other kids. She was sure things were worse today.The man was trying not to laugh. Every kid did this sort of thing, or at least they all had back in the mid-Eighties when he was ten or however old these two were. They. We had the talk last night, didn’t we? Do you disagree with anything?Me: No! Not at all!I was still terrified by the thought of going thru it again.Mom: That’s good, baby! We are done talking. (paused a bit) And btw mister, my asshole is so sore because of you fingering it so much! Use lube or spit on my asshole before you do that again!I felt my horniness rush back. My cock was rock hard, pointing straight up. I wanted to rip her clothes off and fuck her right there.Me: I can do it right now. As Allison tried to digest what he just said, the crowd cheered at the coach's excited marketing pitch."Oh, you're in my Spanish class," Allison whispered back when Chris's words registered."Yep," he answered. Then in his most generic Northwest American accent, he said, "Me no speak Español." Obviously," Allison said, with a laugh.Another cheer went up. Chris leaned closer."I would ask if you'd help me with my homework, but I'm not one for wasting other people's time." I could use a little bit.