I said, “So, we’re gonna do a striptease here?”

She smiled and said nothing. Then she turned away. “I shouldn’t even be thinking this way,” she confessed.

“It’s too late now,” I told her. “I thought the same thing when you flashed me.”

“You thought what?”

“Damn, she got a tight body,” I told her. “I want a piece of that.”

She grinned and shook her head slowly. “I need some bad, too.”

“You need some what?”

She looked at the tight crotch area of my jeans.

It was crazy, but I was ready to do another one.

Theresa looked away again and seemed bashful.

I told her, “Don’t be ashamed of how you feel. It gets the best of all of us.”

She shook her head again and kept her distance from me.

I looked like a damn fool standing there. But I had made up my mind. I wanted more action.

I asked her, “When was the last time you had any?”

“It’s been too long,” she told me.

“Well, you gon’ start counting from zero again after tonight,” I told her boldly. Fuck it, I was ready for her.

“Is that right?” she asked me.

“Only if you allow it. But if you don’t allow it…I mean, it’s all up to you.”

Theresa was laboring in her decision to do anything with me, and I was becoming anxious. So I pushed up on her and placed my dick on her ass through my jeans and her pink nightgown. And I know she could feel how hard I was. I was already throbbing for her.

“What are you doing?” she asked me.

“I’m letting you get to know what it feels like.”

She didn’t push me away, so I started to pump her slowly from behind.

“You gon’ start something,” she told me.

“Good.”

She reached back with her right hand and grabbed my crotch. So I reached around with my left hand and started to finger her pussy. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

She started to get into it, rowing forward from my touch.

“You got a condom?” she asked me.

“Several.”

“So, I guess my brother is gonna have to be mad at us.”

“I guess so,” I told her, because if I got myself started, I surely wasn’t stopping.

She said, “Come on,” and took my hand to lead me upstairs. I followed her up to her master bedroom in her three-bedroom home, and I dropped my clothes in a pile on the floor next to her bed.

She had a high wooden bed with a burgundy quilt, matching sheets, pillowcases, and throw pillows. Against the wall in front of her bed was an arch-shaped mirror attached to a long wooden dresser that matched her bed frame. She had a tall wooden dresser against the wall to the left of the bed, in between her two windows. On the bed were various stuffed animals that she pushed off for me. I was impressed again. I expected less.