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“Shhh…” I shushed Carol. “Let me do this. I’ll stop if you tell me.” I pushed my finger in farther, knuckle deep. Carol didn’t say anything else. She even moved her hips a bit, gently fucking my finger with her asshole. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I withdrew my index finger and started to push two fingers into her relaxed opening. Two fingers of my other hand were still inside her pussy. I could see Carol with her eyes closed, her cheek against the cold granite, concentrating on the feeling.

A month or so later, I was cruising the local shopping mall, as we kids did in those days. I was browsing the men’s department in the regional department store, looking for a present for my Dad’s birthday.“Can I help you find something sir?” a familiar voice said behind me. I turned to find Carol smiling brightly.

I retrieved my bag that had some clean running clothes in it and returned to the master shower. I turned on the water, steaming hot, stripped, opened the glass door and stepped in. I thought at the time it was a nice shower, but I know now it was a typical tract house cubical. I was thankful for the opportunity to jack off, as my cock had been rock hard since Mrs. B’s dress rode up, exposing her lovely thighs when she got in the car. I was just soaping up my dick to get some relief when I was startled by the opening of the shower door. Mrs. B. stepped into the shower, naked, holding a plastic cup. She handed me the cup.