Reverie Rabid

We spent a lot of time at her home. Maybe so her mother could keep an eye on us. Mrs. Spencer made sure to be around, offering drinks, snacks, chit chat. I noticed that she was fairly young herself. Granted at my age, anyone over 25 was old, but she was probably mid-30s, divorced. If she was a indiction of how Carley would develop, maybe I should wait. Mrs. Spencer had fuller breasts and a nice butt. She appeared to be in great shape for her “advanced” age. I knew she was keeping an eye on me as much as I was on her and her younger daughter. Her eldest, Sharon was away at college at the time. With Mrs. Spencer around we mostly limited ourselves to holding hands and sneaking in a few light kisses. One day Mrs. Spencer caught us by surprise walking in as I’d slid my hand up from Carley’s stomach to rub her right breast through her shirt. She didn’t really need a bra yet, so I could feel her nipple, hard, through her shirt. Just this much contact had me hard also.

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