She put her hands on his knees and pushed them apart, her ears reaching out for sounds from downstairs. Her bottom was wet and sticky but she rolled out of bed and shoved her legs into her panties and shorts. Amy and Tim ran upstairs. She was the only one who ever touched herself that way and now Tim was squeezing her privates with only a cotton crotch panel separating them. She wanted it to go on and on. Tim smiled. Tim said, “Calm down, it’s what you do when you French or your boyfriend will think you’re lame. “I’m supposed to kiss your peter?” She wrinkled her nose and said, “I don’t think so.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Tim said, “It’s just Frenching. The thought of kissing Tim’s peter made her stomach churn. But, yeah, I like you a lot. Since the boys were not allowed in the girl’s bedroom they played in other places, like Amy’s brother’s bedroom up a long, steep flight of stairs.
