The hand moved down her hip, under her stomach, searching for a fly on pants that zipped at the hip. The feel of him fumbling at her clothes tickled, ...ut she liked it. The hand stretching her new sweater clenched. He growled his frustration and pulled her upright. He leaned into the counter with her. He wrapped his arms so tightly around her and bit her ear, feeling her reaction roll through both of them. Her head fell back onto his shoulder and he mouthed her trapezius. It far more sensitive. Like a goddess, I thought. I was jerking off so hard that I lost my balance and fell against her bedroom door. Within two seconds she had jerked open the door and was staring at me lying on the floor, no longer holding my cock, still with my pants down and my dick as hard as steel. Carol stared at me for what seemed like forever, and then reached down, took my hand. "We need to talk." I was seventeen years old, but I thought I had ruined a good thing. No more peeking at Carol. No more fucking. More

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