I was used to the old ladies along the street, teasing me, trying - and succeeding - to make me blush. What if Joyce was only teasing? What if she was...'t, but was expecting me to be some kind of super-stud? These thoughts and many more plagued me on that short walk to her door. I stopped just as I was about to knock, fully intending to turn around and go back home. I really didn't relish the thought of this level of potential humiliation. Then, just as I'd made my mind up to return home, Joyce. Go figure. After a few minutes of lying there, catching our breaths, she got up and slowly walked downstairs to get her bikini off the deck. I remained on the cool tile floor with my pants around my knees, in complete blissful shock. She returned to the kitchen with her bikini on. “Get up, will you?” She casually walked around me to the sink, “Where’s the dish rag?” Was I in trouble for something? “Hang on Mom, I’ll get it.” I pulled up my pants and staggered to my room to get the rag. The. More

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