Jeremy ch14 Sex Talk / pedo Fb / Janus

Please note: All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Please keep in mind the difference between fantasy and reality.

Today was the day. A half-dozen outfits were scattered across Pam's bed with more on the way as she discarded unlikely options. Inspired by the notion that it would be smart to dress professionally for the sex talk, Pam had spent the last hour rooting through her closet in search of the forgotten business attire that she wore in her office days. She had already gathered her brown hair into a bun (the most conservative style possible, she figured) but the accompanying clothes had vexed her. Stepping in front of the mirror, she examined her latest choice: a navy button-down shirt paired with a cream-colored pencil skirt. Pam frowned, even though she looked quite nice. The skirt flattered her hips while the fitted shirt emphasized her feminine curves and graceful arms.

“Ugh. I look like a sexy librarian,” Pam muttered. “Christ.” Sighing, she returned to her closet. Next up was a dark ocean-blue skirt with pleats and a glimmering metallic thread. This was one of her favorites back in the day. She pulled on a black cotton sweater and turned to the mirror. Frowning again, she checked her profile. Maybe it was her imagination, but every outfit so far had somehow magnified her bustline well beyond her modest 32B.

Perhaps dressing up was the wrong idea. If anything, she needed to dress down.

Back to the closet. A shapeless gray turtleneck and an ill-fitting pair of khakis. Undoing the hair bun, she used her fingers to untousle her brown locks, letting them untidily fall to her shoulders. She checked herself in the mirror and found, quite possibly, the world's most unstylish woman. Dowdy even. The high-waisted pants were reminiscent of mom jeans. Her bangs seemed windblown. Since she wore her usual minimal makeup, the lifeless gray sweater rendered her complexion sallow.

If she had to talk about sex with Jeremy and his mom, then she wanted to look as unattractive as possible. Kate wouldn't suspect a thing. “Who, me?” she rehearsed into the mirror. She tried to look surprised and innocent at the same time. “I wouldn't do that.” It was an awful performance, and one she hopefully wouldn't have to trot out. If only she had fallen in with drama crowd back in high school.

She peeked in the living room. Kate was nowhere to be found so she decided to make herself some tea. Pam rifled through the selection in the kitchen cupboard. Black tea was not an option. The caffeine would make her even more jittery. Chamomile might have helped, but it would also render her catatonic. That would not do. She needed to keep her wits about her. Passionflower? Supposedly relaxing, but she didn't trust the 'passion' part. Mother's milk? She wondered how long that had been sitting in the cupboard.

She finally narrowed her choices to two: Zen or Stress Relief. The former had both spearmint and green tea, a combination meant to create clarity and alertness. The latter claimed to 'promote a state of relaxed awareness without compromising mental functions.' Hemming and hawing, Pam chose the Zen. Unfurling the string from the teabag, she found a short message on the square of paper: “A cherry blossom whispers to the damp earth in springtime.”

It was likely meant to be some sort of inspirational message. Pam pondered it for a moment before dipping the teabag into her waiting cup. Great brown plumes spread like tentacles inside the teacup as the leaves met the hot water. Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but she could already feel clarity from the mere scent of the tea. That had to be a good sign.

“All right, Pam,” Kate said, entering the kitchen. “I think I've got everything ready.” She carried a large packet of papers, a book, index cards and an assortment of pens. She glanced at Pam with concern. “Are you feeling all right? You look a bit peaked.”

“It's nothing. I didn't sleep well last night. I think it's catching up with me.”

Kate nodded sympathetically. “Hopefully tonight will be a quiet night.” She arranged her things on the table. “I guess it's now or never. Can you call him in?”

It was the moment Pam had been dreading. “This Zen tea better fucking work,” she thought grimly. The sex talk had weighed heavily over her like a dark cloud ever since Kate proposed it. She could have prepped Jeremy about the impending discussion, but she didn't trust him to play it cool with or without advanced warning. Either way, Pam felt certain they would somehow be outed once the talk began.

Kate settled herself at the dinner table while Pam opened the door to the backyard. The cold air made her shiver. Though the sun was setting later and later every day, a layer of snow still covered the ground. Based on the scattered footprints imprinted in the winter landscape, it was still at least two feet deep. Pam's eyes followed the pockmarks until she found Jeremy and his friend Ashton throwing snowballs on the far side of the yard.

“Fuck! You almost hit me right in the eye!” Jeremy hollered as he narrowly dodged a snowball. “Fucker!” His voice echoed across the barren winter landscape.

“Jeremy Prater!” Pam reprimanded haughtily from across the yard. “Language.”

“Sorry, Pam,” Jeremy said, not even turning to look at her. The two boys gave nary a pause before resuming their snowball fight. Jeremy ducked behind a tree to shield himself. “Pam, tell Ashton to stop throwing snowballs above the shoulders!” he yelled. “It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.” Peeking out from the tree, he launched a volley of snowballs that went whump-whump-whump as they landed against the fence behind his friend.

“Don't be stupid. My aim is good, but even I can't hit a target that small.”

“All right, both of you be quiet,” Pam ordered, raising her voice to be heard above the din. She wondered how many neighbors were eavesdropping. “Jeremy, can you come inside? Ashton, can you go home?”

They began wrestling in the snow. Pam shivered again. “Two minutes, Jeremy!” she warned. “Will you be inside the house in two minutes?”

“Be there in a second!” He yanked Ashton's hat until it covered his eyes, then planted him face-first into the snow.

Pam retreated into the warm house. “He's on his way,” she told Kate. The sound of squawking boys (and more swears) leaked inside before she fully closed the door.

“Sounds like World War Three out there,” Kate said. “What is up with him lately? Is it just me or has he been ten times as destructive?”

Pam sat down at the table and warmed her hands on her still-steeping mug of tea. She knew exactly what was up. Ever since that day she asked Pam to attend the sex talk, Kate's maternal instincts had kicked into high gear and she had pledged to stop being an absentee parent. Paranoia set in as Pam wondered if his mom had somehow sniffed out what had been going on between her son and a woman more than twice his age.

But Kate's admission seemed far more plausible. “I feel like I'm really missing out,” she had told Pam. “Being a mom for Jeremy. Being a girlfriend for David. I haven't been doing a good job at either of those things. I'm spending half my life slaving away at the hospital. It's got to stop.” Not one to make an idle threat, Kate immediately cut back her hours. For the past two weeks, she had adopted a very flexible 9 to 5 schedule that let her send Jeremy off to school in the morning and have dinner with them each evening. Her constant presence had subsequently derailed any potential Call of Duty sessions.

There was nothing like sexual deprivation to bring out the hyperactivity in an eleven year old boy. He had been a nightmare to be around the past week, constantly pushing boundaries and trying her patience. Fed up with his boundless zeal, Pam had sent him outside two hours ago to play with Ashton. Based on the snowy fistfight, however, Jeremy had burned off very little energy.

Truthfully? There was really only one thing that could calm him down. And that thing was unfortunately off the table.

Of course, she couldn't say any of this to Kate. “I'm not sure what his deal is,” Pam said, pretending to take a thoughtful sip of her Zen tea. “Cabin fever, maybe? He's probably been cooped up inside for too long.”

The backdoor opened then slammed shut, followed by the sound of Jeremy shaking the snow off his boots with a series of trampling thumps on the doormat. He immediately began shedding his winter gear upon arriving in the dining room, revealing his sweaty red hair and a long-sleeved shirt adorned with a snowboarder's silhouette (flipping double birds) and the declaration 'Give the People What They Want!' When they saw it at the mall, Jeremy wouldn't stop begging for the shirt until Pam finally caved. Even though he wore it at least three times a week, Kate had not yet noticed the snowboarder's obscene gesture.

“It wasn't too bad,” he answered. He stepped close to Pam, pressing his cold cheek against her face. She squeaked in surprise and pushed him away.

“Quit it! Your skin is like ice!” This was exactly what she had been dealing with all week.

Jeremy took a seat next to her. He took one glance at her, then did a double take, looking her up and down. Befuddled by her clothing choices, he gave her an odd look. It was the same expression he made when he tasted okra for the first time. Pam ignored him. “Can we have hot cocoa?” Jeremy asked, punching her leg. “It'll help warm me up.”

“Not now,” Pam told him. She snatched his hand in mid-punch and placed it on his lap. “Hands to yourself, please. Put on a sweater if you're cold.”

Jeremy helped himself to her mug of tea. “Hey, this is pretty good,” he said, tentatively taking a slurp. “Needs sugar though.” After a few sips, he held the mug to his face to warm his cheeks. Once it became clear that she wasn't getting her tea back, Pam went to the kitchen to make herself a new cup.

“Why did you guys call me in, anyway?” Jeremy asked. “I had Ashton in this killer headlock. He was so desperate to get out that he said I could have his black light. And his disco ball.”

Kate nervously cleared her throat. “I've been meaning to talk to you about something. For a long time now. It's something every parent eventually has to do. Pam has graciously agreed to be here for... moral support.”

Pam returned with her fresh cup of tea. Rather than sit next to him, she took the spot across from Jeremy. Her jangled nerves would benefit from the decreased proximity, she reasoned. But since Kate sat at the head of the table, Pam now felt as if she were at a court hearing.

Jeremy stared questioningly at his mom. “Are you going to tell me I was adopted?” he asked, pulling his sleeves over his hands.

Jeremy shrugged. “That's a relief. I guess.” A worried look crossed his face. “Um... is this about the missing TV remote?” Jeremy set aside the tea and sat up straight. “Okay, I admit it. I accidentally dropped it in the toilet and it stopped working. So I just threw it in the trash and told you guys it was lost.”

“That was not what we were planning to discuss either,” Kate said, massaging her temples.

Pam scratched her head. “Well, that explains why you've been volunteering to change the channel every time I try to find the remote in the couch cushions.”

“Though I won't ask why you had the remote in the bathroom in the first place,” Pam added.

“So anyway,” Kate interrupted. “Jeremy, you're going to be twelve in a few months. So we wanted to talk to you about sex. And answer any questions you might have.”

“Sex?” Jeremy repeated. The moment he said it, he looked straight at Pam in alarm.

“As in where babies come from,” Pam said, wishing he would return to a neutral expression. “And how they're made. That kind of sex. Specifically for making babies.” Did she sound off-kilter? Pam gulped some tea to calm herself.

There was an awkward pause as they waited for him to respond. “I know all that already,” Jeremy attested.

“Then perhaps you'd like to explain it to me,” Kate said. The conversation had barely started but Pam already didn't like the direction it was moving.

“Right now?” Seeing his mom's resolute expression, Jeremy began a halting explanation. “Well, you know... a man puts his thing inside a woman.”

“Uh, his penis,” Jeremy clarified. His ears turned beet red. Chuckling nervously, he continued, “He puts it inside the woman.”

Jeremy took a deep breath. “A man puts his penis inside a woman's vagina. And then he, um, shoots his stuff. Inside her vagina. And if it's a good shot, then she'll have a baby a few months later. It'll come out of her vagina.”

Pam cringed, and not just because it was embarrassing to hear him talk about sex. Each time he said 'vagina,' Jeremy would pointedly look in her direction. Subtly was not his strongest suit. She restlessly tugged at the collar of her sweater. The turtleneck suddenly seemed terribly tight around her throat, almost as if it were choking her.

Jeremy stroked his chin like a college professor. “Let's see, it's... nine months.”

Pam smiled brightly at Kate. “Welp. He knows everything. Looks like our work here is done!”

“Not so fast.” She slid something across the table. “Do you know what this is?”

“Semen,” Jeremy dutifully repeated. He continued, “Oh, and it also prevents diseases that you can get from sex.” Pam chugged more tea, wishing she had chosen the stress relieving kind. Her stomach did flip-flops each time he recited these clinical sex terms.

“Right. Condoms prevent pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases. So maybe you knew more about sex than I gave you credit for,” Kate said wonderingly. “Where did you pick all this up?” Once again, Jeremy glanced at Pam. This time, it did not escape his mom. A small, suspicious smile formed on her lips. “Wait. Did you and Pam already talk about all this stuff?”

“No!” Pam denied emphatically. Closing her eyes in a long blink, the first thought that entered her mind was the Zen message on the teabag. “A cherry blossom whispers to the damp earth in springtime,” she thought.

Now embarrassed, Kate sat back in her chair. “He never told me that,” she admitted.

“And sometimes the guys at school talk about it,” Jeremy added. “I know a lot of stuff.”

Jeremy turned to leave. “Hold up,” Kate said. She was apparently having difficulty believing her son was so well-versed in sex. “So you know everything about the sperm and the egg? All that?”

“Do you know how they're really tiny?” Kate asked. “How a woman's body has several hundred thousands of eggs?”

Jeremy's curiosity was finally piqued. “Really? Several hundred thousands of eggs?” He paused, digesting the number. “Even you, Pam?”

Mortified, Pam studied the bottom of her teacup, swirling the liquid in a circle. She muttered, “Yes, Jeremy. Even me.”

Kate, however, seemed relieved at this turn of events. “Ah ha! So you don't know everything. I love it when our conversations have an educational purpose.” Jeremy groaned. Kate passed out index cards, then handed them each a pen. “Why don't you write down some questions you have about sex?” she said, addressing Jeremy. “Pam and I will write some questions too. Like the kind of questions we had when we were your age.”

The room went silent as everyone picked up a pen. Pam stared at her two blank index cards. It was difficult to wind the clock back fifteen years and remember how she thought back then. Jeremy had no such trouble though. Having already completed his own two cards, he stacked them into a neat pile as he waited for them to finish.

“Can I have some more cards?” Kate passed him the deck of blank index cards. Pam nervously adjusted her turtleneck as he began writing more questions. What was he going to ask? Even after several minutes of wracking her brain, she had written nothing at all. Once he finished writing, Jeremy started building a house of cards using the blank index cards. Pam finally managed to write something down by the time he started construction on a second level. Setting down her pen, she gave up on the next index card after noticing that Kate only filled out a single one as well.

“Everybody done with their questions?” Kate inquired. “I'll go first.” Reading aloud from her card, she said, “Is it wrong to masturbate?”

“It's not wrong,” Jeremy stated confidently. His house of cards was a sprawling structure, like a poorly planned suburban home. He began adding a third level.

“Pam told me so.” The instant he said it, Jeremy clapped a hand to his mouth. His house of cards collapsed, fluttering to the table like the beating wings of a butterfly swarm. Pam's heart stopped. She knew it. She just knew Jeremy would somehow out them during this conversation. Even a million cherry blossoms whispering to the damp earth could not save her now.

“Pam?” Kate swiveled to look at her, but her expression was more amused than angry.

“It just came up one day,” Pam offered weakly. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I figured that would be your answer too. That it wasn't wrong to masturbate.”

“It's okay! Totally understandable that he would come to you.” She added thoughtfully, “It just goes to show that I've been putting in too many hours at the hospital. Thank you for giving him a straight answer.”

“You're welcome,” Pam said. Jeremy remained silent during this exchange, though his lips were pursed in guilt.

“You two and your secrets,” Kate chuckled. “I knew you were keeping something from me.”

Pam groped for a way to change the subject. “Want to do my question next?” She handed Kate her index card.

“How does a condom work?” Kate read. It was the most innocuous question that Pam could think of.

“I already know that.” Jeremy proclaimed. Having abandoned his house of cards, he was now fiddling with the oversized rubber band that Kate used to keep her papers organized. “Everybody knows how they work.”

Kate grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and handed it to her son. “Why don't you demonstrate for us?” She slid the wrapped condom across the table.

Not expecting this challenge, Jeremy nervously set aside the rubber band and picked up the condom. Unable to open the packet with his fingers, the young boy resorted to using his teeth to tear it open. It was an unabashedly bro move that made Pam blush. Glancing at Kate, she saw a distinctly nonplussed expression on his mom's face. Jeremy fished out the condom with delicate fingers, as if he were handling radioactive material.

His eyes darted between the condom and banana as he mentally figured out the mechanics. Pam and Kate watched as he tried to apply the condom to the tip of the banana. He would have been successful had he not applied the condom upside down. After a long minute of futile tinkering, he finally gave up. “I can't figure it out,” he confessed, holding out the condom to his mom. “Can you show me?”

“Don't ask me,” Kate shrugged. “You said everybody knows how they work, Mr. Know-It-All.”

His cheeks were red with embarrassment. There was only so much needling he could take and Pam couldn't bear to see him this way. She held out her hand, expecting him to pass her both the banana and condom. Instead, he only gave her the condom. Leaning across the dinner table, Jeremy held the banana in place for her, gripping it with both hands.

“Um, so you want to make sure it goes on this way,” she explained, positioning the condom on the banana. “You had it upside down before. When it's right side up, you can just roll it on. Like this.” As if it wasn't mortifying enough to roll a condom onto a banana, Pam was doubly flustered to do so under Kate's watchful eye.

“Oh. I get it now.” He eyed the condom-clad banana. “So that's all there is to it?”

“Yes, that's all. The banana is ready to...” She noticed Kate smirking at her. “Uh, whatever.”

“You're way too nice to him,” Kate told Pam. “I was planning to let him fumble around for a few more minutes before helping.”

Jeremy gave his mom the evil eye. Setting aside the banana, he retrieved the rubber band he was previously playing with. There was a dour silence, punctuated by the twanging sound as he stretched it across his fingers.

“For goodness' sake, I was just teasing,” Kate said. “Don't sulk. Want to do your questions now?”

He sullenly handed her his cards. Pam prayed he had written harmless questions about using deodorant or preventing acne. Her hopes were dashed when Kate read the first question: “When does a guy start making semen?” There was another pause while Kate pondered the question. Pam's thoughts returned to cherry blossoms and damp earth.

“Um, do you mean when does a guy start ejaculating?” Kate clarified. “That's the term for when a guy starts... Well, you know, making semen.”

“Yeah that,” Jeremy nodded. Still tinkering with the rubber band, he used a pen cap to strum it like a guitar. It was obvious absent-minded puttering. Pam wished he would just pay attention.

“Well, it completely varies from person to person,” Kate said. “I suppose it's the same as a girl wondering when she'll need her first bra. Everyone is different. You shouldn't worry if you're not ejaculating yet.”

The twanging rubber band rose in pitch. “I wasn't talking about me!” Jeremy objected. “Geez mom.” He glowered at his mother as only a preteen was capable.

“Sorry!” Kate visibly withered from Jeremy's glare. “Must you give me that look? You're making me feel bad.” She looked to Pam for assistance.

“It's like a girl wondering when she'll get her first period,” Pam said, careful to keep her words neutral. She had been hoping to stay on the sidelines for this one. “It'll happen when it happens. Probably when you... ahem, that is, when a boy least expec-” Pam was cut off mid-sentence when Jeremy, having fashioned a catapult from the rubber band, accidentally launched the pen cap into the air, striking her square between the eyes.

“Ow!” Pam exclaimed. The pen cap ricocheted off her head, bounced twice on the table, then fell onto the floor in a subdued clatter. She rubbed the spot on her forehead, checking her fingers for blood. Seeing none, she decided she was more surprised than hurt.

Jeremy froze, then smiled politely. “Oops! Sorry about that.” He innocently straightened in his chair, folding his fingers together in a belated show of diligence.

Kate, however, was having none of it. She took away the rubber band. “Quit it. You're going to blind someone.”

With nothing to keep them occupied, Jeremy's hands fidgeted. “So... theoretically... how will I know when I'm e-jaculating?” Pam and Kate exchanged a stifled look of amusement. He incorrectly emphasized the first syllable, pronouncing it the same way as 'eBook.' Jeremy continued, “Will the stuff just start coming out?”

“Well, no, it won't just start, um, coming out,” Kate began. “It will happen when... you know. You're...” Too uncomfortable to continue, she once again looked to Pam for help.

Pam bravely cleared her throat. No more sugarcoating, she decided. “Ejaculation happens you have an orgasm,” she stated. (Trust me, she wanted to say, you're not ejaculating yet.) “So, like, when a boy is masturbating. It will come out then.”

“Oh. I didn't know that.” Jeremy considered this new nugget of information. “I thought it would come out the same way pee does. Like you could just stand there and make it come out.”

“I knew your dad would miss some details,” Kate said smugly. “It's a good thing we're having this discussion.”

“Let's do another question,” Pam said, reaching for the next index card. “I'll read it.” Her heart sank when she saw what Jeremy had written in his inimitable sixth-grade cursive. “What is oral sex???” she read aloud, repeating the three question marks.

“At school we joke that oral sex is when you talk about sex,” Jeremy said. “But I know it's not that.”

“Ha ha, how funny!” Kate said with a forced laugh. “Oral sex is when a person... puts their mouth on another person's private parts.” Jeremy didn't seem to understand that, so she added, “For example, a person using their mouth on someone's penis.”

But Jeremy was stuck on his mom's explanation. “Oh, sure,” he nodded. “Mouth on penis.” He looked at Pam with a hint of accusation. “Isn't that kind of weird though?”

“Weird is relative,” Kate demurred. “Don't you remember a few years ago when you thought girls were full of cooties? You thought kissing a girl was the grossest thing ever. Now I bet you can't wait for your first kiss.”

Pam's hand twitched so hard that she set down her teacup with a rattle, but no one noticed. “A cherry blossom whispers to the damp earth in springtime,” she thought. The mantra bounced around her head like a ping-pong ball. “A cherry blossom whispers-”

Jeremy interrupted her inner monologue with another question. “Does everyone do oral sex?” he asked.

“Probably not everyone,” Kate answered. “That's like asking if everyone eats pizza. I suppose it depends on if you like it or not.”

“That makes sense,” he nodded. Looking directly at Pam, he defensively said, “Everyone likes different things.”

“That's true,” she agreed. “But most people like pizza.” Pam wanted to point out that there was once a time when Jeremy only ate cheese pizza before branching out to other toppings. But perhaps it was best to save that retort for later.

Besides, Kate had already moved on to the next index card. Ominously, Kate blushed then chuckled anxiously before reading the question. “What is a dildo for?”

Both Pam and Kate paused for so long that Jeremy began tapping his fingers on the table. “So, what is it? I mean, I know it has something to do with sex.”

Pam could easily imagine describing it to Jeremy if they were alone. It was a different story with his mom in the room. She haltingly added, “A woman uses it. Or sometimes a man too.”

Kate nodded. “That's right. She puts it inside her body. Or he puts it in his.”

“No, it's not like that,” Kate told him. She glanced at Pam. “Can you do it? You're so much better at ripping off the band-aid than I am.”

Draining her tea, Pam pictured a Zen garden. In Japan. With gently falling cherry blossoms. “A dildo is a penis-shaped object,” she said, not mincing words. “A woman puts it in her vagina when she's masturbating. Or sometimes another person might use it on her.” Despite her bravado, her ears flushed red as she spoke.

He scratched his head, still processing this information. “But why would a woman want to use one in the first place?”

Pam and Kate exchanged another look. “Because it feels good,” Pam finally answered.

“Of course I know that.” He blushed so red that his face matched his carrot colored hair, then he gave Pam a knowing look. It might have been classified as leering had he been older, but from Jeremy it was merely a shy smile.

Kate was thankfully too busy looking through her papers to notice. Nevertheless, his furtive glances had to stop. Pam reached for an index card. When Kate wasn't looking, Pam nonchalantly held up an index card in a spot only Jeremy could see. It read, in large block letters, 'STOP LOOKING AT ME!' Upon reading the message, Jeremy immediately glanced at her again with a questioning expression. Already anticipating this, she held up a second card reading 'I SAID STOP'.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. She knew he hated being scolded, particularly when he didn't understand why she was mad. He turned to his mom, purposely angling his shoulders away from her. “Are we almost done, mom?”

“Not quite yet, dear. Darn it. I had a great print-out about this topic. But now I can't find it.” Kate disappointedly set aside the sheaf of papers. “Do you know what consent means, Jeremy?”

“Exactly,” Kate said. “So you know that women can enjoy sex, but that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want. You need to get their consent first. You need to ask.”

Pam excused herself from the table. “I need more tea,” she said quietly. “Anyone else want some?” Neither of them answered, but she saw Kate shift uncomfortably in her chair. Pam kept one ear on the conversation as she gratefully took refuge in the kitchen.

Kate said, “When that time comes, then you ask the same way. 'Do you want to... whatever.'”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves,” Kate said firmly. “All of this is a long ways off. I mean, I don't want you to get the idea that you'll leave this table and start having sex. But yes, when the time comes, you could ask a girl, “Do you want to have sex?” And then respect what she says. If she says no, then you back off.”

Like a chess grandmaster, Pam could see the board several moves in advance. Too many times to count, she had sympathetically listened to Kate's venting about her son's rough-housing nature. Sensing where Kate was guiding the conversation, Pam quickly returned to dinner table with the electric kettle and an assortment of teabags.

Kate continued lecturing, “Then you can do whatever it is she agreed to. But you still have to be a gentleman.” Pam was surprised to see Jeremy listening intently. “That means not forcing her to do something she doesn't want to do. It means being gentle.”

“I can be gent-” Jeremy began. Having heard this declaration from him so many times already, Pam instantly recognized the knowing tone in his voice. She swooped in to interrupt him.

“Heads up, I'm coming in hot!” she announced, filling his teacup with water from the kettle. Pam removed his hand from the cup, ostensibly to protect him from the steaming water, but she squeezed his fingers in warning, followed by a hard look.

There was a break in the conversation as they chose their tea. Kate opted for a black tea with vanilla and almonds. Deciding that the Zen tea clearly wasn't working, Pam brought out the big guns and chose chamomile. Jeremy picked a licorice tea with a tantalizing scent that made the room smell like a candy store.

While they waited for their teas to steep, Pam peered at the remaining index cards. “Is there only one question left?” she prompted. She prayed it would be a softball.

Kate sang a brief fanfare. “Dum-da-dum!” She ceremoniously held up the card. “Are my friends having sex?” she read. Laying the card face down on the table, Kate smiled confidently at her son. “I can assure you, Jeremy, that they are not. I know they're probably talk a lot about 'doing it.'” She made air quotes with her fingers. “But it's all talk. Trust me. Your friends are not having sex yet.”

“Why wouldn't they be 'doing it' though?” Jeremy asked. He parroted his mom by adding air quotes.

“One, boys love to brag, even if it means stretching the truth,” Kate said. “Two, your friends aren't ready for sex yet.” As an afterthought, she added, “And you're not ready for sex either.”

Pam nervously sipped her chamomile tea, even though it was nowhere near finished steeping. Surely he didn't believe each of his friends had a Pam-equivalent in their lives? It occurred to her that he thought their relationship was perfectly normal. A twinge of guilt nagged at the back of her mind.

“Sex is something very special. It should be for someone you love. Someone you really care about. This is a huge generalization, but all your friends care about is... let's see. Skateboarding. Video games. Pokemon Go.”

“Lighting 'things' on fire,” Pam added helpfully. Now everyone was doing air quotes.

“We stopped playing Pokemon Go months ago,” Jeremy scoffed. “That's so 2016.”

“My point is,” Kate continued, “that your friends are not having sex yet. So you shouldn't feel the need to 'do it' either. All right?”

“Okay,” Jeremy said agreeably. Miraculously, he did not look once in Pam's direction during this exchange. “Are we done? Can I go now?”

“One last thing,” Kate said. “I got you this book.” She handed it to Jeremy. Since it was upside down, Pam needed a second to read it: Everything Tweens Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to Ask).

“Thanks, mom.” Already browsing the book, Jeremy stood up from the table. As he turned to leave, a corner of the book knocked over his teacup, sending a gushing torrent of liquid across the table. All three of them gasped in dismay. Kate quickly moved her papers out of harm's way. Pam grabbed a handful of napkins. Jeremy helped by pressing his hips against the edge of the table to prevent the tea from spilling onto the floor.

“I got it!” he announced. “Sort of.” He sheepishly watched as his jeans soaked up the tea.

“Could be worse,” Pam said, mopping up the warm liquid. “At least it's just tea and not soda.” Her hand moved dangerously close to Jeremy's crotch as she cleaned the table. “I've got it under control,” she told him. “Why don't you go take off those wet jeans?” Jeremy trotted off to his bedroom, still carrying the open book.

Once he was gone, Kate slumped back into her chair and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness that's over with. Let's never do that again,” she proposed.

“Agreed.” Pam placed the soggy napkins into an empty teacup. Considering all the messes in Jeremy's history, this one didn't even register on the Richter Scale.

Kate checked the time. “I have a date with David in one hour. I hope he's isn't expecting any romance tonight. Nothing kills the mood more than talking to your kid about sex.”

Pam laughed. “I feel exactly the same way.” She wasn't sure what to do with the condom-clad banana. It was technically still edible. She stripped off the condom and returned the banana to the fruit bowl.

Kate helped her carry the dishes to the kitchen. “Pam, you help out so much around here. Are you sure we're not tying up too much of your life? Just let me know if you ever need to get out for a date or something.”

“Does it help you keep in touch with your inner child?” Kate joked. “The spirit of youth and all that?”

“Ha ha,” Pam pretended to laugh, hoping it would conceal her blushing. “That's one way of looking at it.” She changed the subject. “So what are you and David doing for tonight's date?”

“Dinner, then maybe a movie,” Kate answered. She ducked her head into the hallway, glancing in the direction of Jeremy's room. Lowering her voice, she said, “David asked me to spend the night. I want to do it. But if Jeremy asks where I am tomorrow morning, can you just tell him I took a last-minute shift at the hospital?”

“Of course,” Pam promised. “He won't even notice. I'll distract him with waffles. Or something.”

“Thanks Pam,” Kate said gratefully. “I feel bad asking you to lie to my son for me.”

“I can shoulder that burden,” she assured. Kate left to get ready for her date, leaving Pam to wearily collapse into an armchair in the den. Jeremy was still ensconced in his bedroom, which was just as well because the quiet room felt like heaven. All the anxiety and tension from the past week slowly drained from her body. She must have dozed off because the next thing she heard was the front door closing, followed by the sight of Kate's car leaving the driveway.

Blearily, she lurched to her feet but then immediately sat down again. It was as if her limbs were moving underwater. Perhaps the chamomile tea had been a mistake after all. Trying again, she slowly stood up and stumbled her way to the bathroom. After using the toilet, she wandered into Jeremy's room where she found him lounging in his underwear and reading his sex book. His jeans, still wet from the tea, lay on the floor.

“When I told you to take off the wet jeans, I sort of assumed that you would follow it up with pants of some sort,” she mused. She hung the jeans across his hamper to dry.

“I'm more comfy like this,” Jeremy answered. Whiskers lay curled into a ball at his feet.

“Nope. I turned on my electric blanket,” he said. “It feels like summer because I'm in my underwear but I'm still warm. You should try it.”

Instead, Pam shooed Whiskers off the bed and pushed Jeremy until he rolled over to make room for her. “Remind me to never again drink chamomile tea in the afternoon,” she said wearily. Squeezing in next to him, she relished the feel of the cool cotton pillowcase against her cheek. Jeremy wasn't kidding about the warmth of the electric blanket though. Inundated by a sensation of overheating, Pam decided to follow his example. Shimmying on the bed, she wiggled free of the khaki pants and turtleneck.

Now wearing only her bra and panties, she gratefully lounged in the feeling of fresh air against her skin. Perhaps the ill-fitting clothes were partially responsible for her malaise because she immediately felt unburdened upon taking them off. Not coincidentally, she saw Jeremy glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. She had been practically invisible to him in her frumpy clothes, but now her underwear lured him like a moth to a flame.

The trouble was that the only thing Pam really wanted was a nap. She was just about to drift off when she heard Jeremy clear his throat. “Can we have sex?” he asked.

“That's true,” Pam conceded. But hearing Jeremy say the word 'sex' was akin to nails on a chalkboard. “Since it's just the two of us, would you mind if we stick with Call of Duty?

“Maybe in a little bit,” she hedged. “I feel kind of woozy.” It was unfortunate because this was their first time alone in quite a while. But the evening was young, especially since Kate was staying over at David's place. Pam took advantage of his sitting up by commandeering the entire bed. Now she had the space to really stretch out and relax. Since there was no room, Jeremy lay sideways across the bed, using her tummy as a pillow as his legs dangled off the bed. She successfully dozed off but was awakened by the sound of Jeremy sighing and clapping the book closed.

Pam buried her face in a pillow. “Why pointless?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“It doesn't say anything about what sex really is.” He still lay with his head propped against her stomach, though he now stared at the ceiling. Meditatively, Jeremy knitted his fingers together, resting his hands on his chest.

“You said you already knew,” Pam reminded him. She stifled a yawn. “As I recall, you even described it in no uncertain detail.”

Well, yeah. I know it's like this...” Jeremy made an O with his thumb and forefinger, then poked the index finger from his other hand into it. Pam hadn't seen anyone make that motion in years. He continued, “But I thought they would have actual pictures of how it happens.”

When he turned his head to look at her, his soft cheek covered up her belly button. “So the man and woman just stand next to each other? And then they...”Jeremy continued the pokey-poke motion with his hands.

“I suppose they could do it that way. But most people do it lying down when they're in bed. You know. Like in the movies when they kiss and roll around.”

It was as if she had just informed him Santa Claus didn't exist. Jeremy was utterly surprised, but his reaction was mirrored by Pam's shock at his naivete. How could he know so much and so little about sex? “Of course. What did you think they were doing?”

“I don't know. I thought they were just cuddling. I didn't think they were doing this.” His hands re-enacted the poking.

It was terribly distracting to watch him make that gesture with his fingers. Pam pulled his wrists apart. “All right, stop. Stop doing that. I get the picture.”

“I can't believe that's what they were doing,” he mumbled. “I feel so dumb.”

Pam patted his shoulder. “Don't feel bad. That's why we're having this talk.” She hid a grin in his pillow. He thought they were cuddling? It was comforting to know that he could still surprise her with his wide-eyed innocence. Jeremy zigging toward Sweet and Wholesome always resulted in her zagging toward Arousal and Even More Arousal.

“Show you?” Pam repeated. The sleepy chamomile cobwebs were finally starting to clear, but she wondered if she had misheard him.

But he mistook her confusion for reluctance. “We can keep our underwear on,” he bargained. “We're not actually going to...” His finger poked into the imaginary hole again. “This is just for educational purposes.”

“Uh, right,” Pam nodded. “I guess I'll do it. For educational purposes.”

Pam held out her hand. “Come over here so you're on top of me.” She lay on her back, waiting, as Jeremy climbed atop her and straddled her midsection.

“So it's like this?” he asked. A shiver went up Pam's spine. They had never been face to face in a horizontal position before. “Not quite,” Pam said. He was perched over her in all his skinny-limbed, gawky glory. She placed her hands on his hips, guiding him downward. “You're too far up.” They fumbled awkwardly for a moment. Even Pam had to admit it felt sinful when she spread her legs to allow the eleven year old boy to move into the proper position. Waving him off was one thing, but this was by far the most overtly sexual thing they had ever done together.

Propped up on his elbows, Jeremy's body hovered tentatively over hers. Due to their differences in height, he was now at neck level. Had he been taller, they could have remained face to face but Pam didn't mind. “Now what?” he demanded, craning his head upward to look at her.

Pam cupped a hand around the smooth curve of his bum, drawing him close. Butterflies of excitement fluttered in her stomach as his underwear grazed her own. “So, um, if we weren't wearing clothes,” she began. “It would go inside me. Get it?”

“You don't have to stay so far away. Come closer,” she urged. She bent his elbows until he was laying directly against her.

“You're not crushing me. It's okay. Come on.” Even though their bodies didn't quite fit, Pam was overtaken by an irrepressible surge of intimacy. It had been a long time since she had been in the missionary position. With anyone. Penetration or not, there was an undeniable coziness to Jeremy laying atop her like a cherry on a sundae. She was lost in all the feels: the sweet burden of his skinny chest against her breasts, the light tickle of breath against her neck, the sharp protrusion of his hip against her inner thigh.

And there was something poking her underwear in a very delicate spot. That felt nice too.

Remembering his earlier question about his friends having sex, Pam said, “Jeremy? You don't think it's strange that we do this, do you?”

“When we were talking with your mom, you were wondering if your friends were, uh, having sex.” Pam paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Do you feel weird doing this stuff? Especially since your friends aren't doing it either?”

“I don't feel weird,” Jeremy told her. Straightening his arms, he lifted himself up so he could see her face again.

“I like you too,” Pam smiled. Males of all ages, it seemed, had trouble with the L-word. She didn't have a problem with his timidity, because his embarrassed look told her all she needed to know about how he really felt inside. Somewhere during this exchange, he had scooted upward so they were once again at eye level. The conflict in the young boy's eyes burned a hole through her, a sensation only reinforced by his undewear-hidden erection that was cozily nestled in her belly button, poking her in a manner that was uncomfortable yet welcoming.

“Yeah.” A pregnant pause followed before he asked, “What should we do now?”

Even though neither of them were naked, it felt like there was nothing separating them. His skin felt like warm sunshine against her inner thighs. Out of the blue, Pam wanted to have him inside her. More than anything, she longed to feel as close to him as possible. “Do you want to...” she trailed off.

Her breathing had quickened so much that he gently rocked up and down as he lay pressed against her. Trying again, she said, “Do you want to...” Suddenly lost for words, she lamely stammered, “... get off of me? I have to pee.”

“Oh. Okay.” Did she see a look of disappointment in his eyes? Jeremy carefully dismounted her.

“I'll be right back,” she said, dashing to the bathroom. She technically did have to pee, thanks to all that tea. As she sat on the toilet, Pam held her head in her hands, berating herself. Was it the chamomile? The awkward sex talk? For whatever reason, she had somehow morphed into a tongue-tied preteen herself. Desperately wanting to pick up where they left off, she was disappointed to find Jeremy once again reading his book when she returned.

“Yeah. I still don't get the dildo thing,” he replied. “They don't even mention them in this book.”

“It just seems, I don't know, strange.” He looked at her. “Do you have one?”

“You always say 'um' before you lie about something. Plus, your eyes move to the left, like this.” He demonstrated, shiftily moving his eyes like an actor in a bad spy movie.

Pam was annoyed. Perhaps they were spending too much time together for him to be able to read her so transparently. “Fine, whatever,” she said.

Pam fidgeted uncomfortably. This was not what she had in mind after returning from the bathroom. “Okay, wait here,” she told him. “I'll be right back.” She went to her bedroom and opened the closet door. In the far corner was a pile of shoeboxes. Pam rattled each one experimentally until she found a shoebox that was much lighter than the others. When she returned to Jeremy's room, he eagerly set aside his book. Pam handed him the box. Jeremy slowly lifted the lid while peering inside, as if it contained a spirit waiting to be freed.

Inside the box were two cream colored dildos, one average sized and one bigger. They were both presents from her friend Suzy, who had jokingly gifted them a few years ago when Pam had complained about a boyfriend who was too well-endowed. “I'm breaking up with him,” she had bitterly declared to Suzy. “The sex is painful! He's like a bull in a china shop.” A week later, Suzy had shown up on her doorstep to drop off the sex toys along with an encouragement to 'practice.'

Jeremy, being a typical male, was magnetically drawn to the bigger one. “Wow, look how huge this one is!” he said, picking it up. There was a hushed tone of awe in his voice. “So you actually, um... These go inside you?”

He cast a furtive glance at her underwear, obviously picturing the dildo in action. “Do you use these a lot?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

“I tried using the smaller one once,” Pam admitted. “But I didn't like how it felt.” Even the memory of it made her blanch. Perhaps other women enjoyed dildos, but she found them too cold, too hard and too impersonal. The supposed life-like material of the dildo was anything but. It felt as if she had inserted a clammy disembodied penis inside her body. Which was exactly what it was, she supposed.

“Maybe some other night,” Pam waffled. She held out the shoebox for him to return the dildos, then covered it with the lid. Setting it on the far side of the bed, Pam partially covered the box with some sheets in hopes that he would forget about it. Her thoughts returned to their experiment in the missionary position. “Are you planning to read that book all night?”

“Maybe. It's got lots of useful information. Like the book says most boys will start growing hair down there at age eleven. But I'm almost twelve and I don't have any.”

Pam winced at the thought of him with pubic hair. “I like you just the way you are,” she reassured. “Besides, it's not like you're altogether bare. You've got peach fuzz. I've seen it. It's cute.”

Jeremy was unconvinced. “Yeah, but look at this...” He scooted closer to her with the book. On the pages were a series of illustrated pictures called the Tanner stages of puberty. The drawings were lifelike but rather clinical in nature. Each illustration depicted the naked male midsection from belly-button to mid-thigh, with the first one being an obviously young boy, hairless, with an exceptionally modest penis and scrotum. The next illustration showed an ever-so-slightly older boy with the accompanying growth in size and a barely perceptible patch of darkened hair. By the third picture, the imaginary boy definitely had grown, considering his appreciably thicker penis and expanded scrotal pouch, but he was still straddling the line between child and adolescence. The fourth added even more size and more hair. There were five pictures total, the last one depicting a full-blown adult male with a sausage-like penis, a curly mat of hair, and meaty thighs.

“I'm supposed to be here,” he noted, pointing at the second picture. “But I don't look like that at all.”

“Your penis mostly looks like that,” she said, trying to be helpful. “And I think that's how much your boys are dangling.” Pam was riveted, letting her eyes wander among the five pictures. She decided that Stage Two was her favorite, though Stage Three was a close second. Stage Four though? Forget it.

“When do you think I'll look like this?” Jeremy pointed to the last picture.

“Who knows?” Pam said, preferring not to think about it. She wondered whose job it was to draw these pictures of naked boys. Did they get to draw from live models and how many applicants did they screen to decide who was representative of any particular stage?

“I wish I was old enough to ejaculate,” Jeremy said gloomily. He still emphasized the first syllable instead of the second, but Pam found it adorable.

“It should have started already. I know some of my friends already are. Ashton and Conor said they started last summer.”

“I see.” Pam did her best to remain neutral, though her ears perked up at this news. Neither Ashton nor Conor was her type. Nevertheless, she was as intrigued as a pirate hearing rumor of a long-lost booty. “Just give it some time. Be patient. I bet one day you'll be squirting like a water gun at a pool party in August.”

“So does it really squirt?” Jeremy asked, intrigued. “I thought that was just an expression when a guy said he was squirting. That's why I thought it just comes out like pee.”

“Ah, no. It definitely squirts. But you can't control it the same way you do with pee.”

Jeremy zoned out for a second, trying to imagine this. “I wish I didn't have to wait,” he said dejectedly.

“Don't obsess about it too much,” Pam counseled. “After all, your friends might be lying about it. You can't be sure unless you've actually seen it happen. I mean, it's not like you guys get together in Ashton's basement and jerk off together in one big circle.” Jeremy remained suspiciously mute. She elbowed him. “Uh, you're not. Right?”

Jeremy turned the page of the book. Immediately following the section on boys' development was, naturally, girls' development. One page illustrated the five stages of breast development while another showed a girl's midsection. It was similar to the boys' Tanner Stages, except there wasn't much to see except widening hips and a black fuzz of pubic hair overtaking the crotch region.

Jeremy pointed at the last picture with its poodle-like burst of dark hair. “That's what you look like,” he said to Pam.

He turned the page again. Next up was an illustrated view of a woman with her legs open. Pam had seen similar pictures at the gynecologist's office, but Jeremy evidently had not. He leaned in for a closer look.

“It's a long story. I didn't always have a problem with it, but these days it just makes my skin crawl.”

“Okay.” Jeremy examined the book again, then looked up. “This picture looks a bit different from your vagina,” he stated.

Pam frowned. Kate was right. There really was no greater libido killer than discussing sex in clinical terms with Jeremy. “That's not going to work either,” she told him.

He helplessly held out his hands. “Well, what am I supposed to call it?” he demanded.

Pulling out her phone, Pam did a search for “vagina slang terms”. Jeremy looked over her shoulder. It was a long list. “Cunt, twat, cooter, beaver,” she read, trying to imagine Jeremy saying each one. Nope. “See any good ones?” she inquired.

They continued reading the list together. “Enchilada of love?” Jeremy nominated. “I like that one.”

“Me neither,” Pam lied. “This is exhausting. How long does this list go on?”

“Well, now there's a breakfast theme. Bacon hole. Sausage wallet. Scrambled eggs between the legs. Those are all kind of weird.” Jeremy burst into laughter. “Arby's with fur! Ha!”

“Sorry.” He sobered up at once, though Pam saw him biting his lip. “Do you like any of these yet?”

“No, I do not,” Pam replied. “Although perusing this list really illustrates why this country is where it is. Hairy doughnut? For heaven's sake.”

“I still don't understand what's wrong with the P-word,” he grumbled. “If you think about it, it's just another word for cat.”

Pam considered this. 'Kitten' was indeed cute. And innocent. Unassuming, yet devilish. Kind of like Jeremy himself. “I like it,” she said finally.

“Now look up slang terms for penis,” he urged. “I want to find something cool for me!”

They huddled over her phone screen once more. “Cock, dick, prick, wiener,” Pam recited in a mechanical voice.

“I know all those already.” Impatiently brushing her hand aside, Jeremy began scrolling through the list. “Baloney pony, giggle stick, meat thermometer, pink tractor beam,” he read.

“There's nothing like the internet to reinforce the fact that people are basically stupid,” Pam observed.

“Skin flute,” he said, scratching his head. “Why would they call it a skin flute?”

“It's an oral sex joke,” Pam told him. She gave him a look of displeasure. “I never get to play the skin flute.”

Jeremy ignored her passive-aggressive jab. “Yogurt launcher! I like that one!”

“I just made it up myself,” Pam said proudly. “Hollywood gun. You know, since you're shooting blanks?”

“I personally don't have a problem with the word 'penis,'” Pam said, putting away her phone. “Maybe we should just leave it at that.”

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Don't be cross with me,” Pam consoled, kissing him again. “I only meant you're my boy.”

“Fine,” Jeremy sighed. Pam had moved so close that his elbow brushed against her bra. Though he outwardly resisted her affection, she could clearly discern a twinge of movement in his underwear. Maybe now she finally had his attention. Jeremy instead re-opened the sex book, turning the pages until he found the section on girls' development. Pam waited for him to turn the page, but Jeremy remained glued to the illustrated picture of a woman's spread legs. “Can't get enough of that picture, can you?” she teased.

Pam covered the illustration with her hand. “Let's see how much you've learned. Labia majora. Where is it?”

“It's... um...” Jeremy gestured ineffectually with his hands. “It's the thing on the sides.”

“The thing on the sides?” Pam mocked. “Someone hasn't done his homework.”

“It's too hard to explain,” Jeremy complained. He thought for a moment, then brightened. “You could quiz me and I'll point out where it is on you,” he suggested.

Jeremy nodded earnestly. “It's for educational purposes.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he firmly pushed her down until she lay on the bed. “You want me to learn, don't you?”

“I suppose so,” Pam agreed. It wasn't as if she had much choice. Jeremy was already tugging her panties off. He then handed her the book which she propped open on her ribcage. Laying perpendicular to the edge of the bed, Pam self-consciously arranged herself. Jeremy stood by eagerly like an intern on the first day of the job. Realizing he was waiting on her, she inched her legs apart.

“You have to spread wider than that,” he objected. “I can barely see anything.”

“I'm getting there! Give me a second.” Why was she feeling so bashful? She had masturbated countless time in front of Jeremy. Spreading her legs some more, she realized it felt like she was at her gynecologist's office, which was not at all sexy. It didn't help that today's doctor was an eleven year old boy wearing a decidedly unprofessional snowboarding shirt.

Jeremy leaned in close, propping his elbows on the mattress. Though her legs were already spread as wide as she could, the young boy apparently felt the need to take matters into his own hands. Grasping each ankle, he re-positioned her to give himself more room. There was a certain assertiveness in his nature that was throwing her off. It was a reversal from the past when she was always the one in charge. Posing her like a doll, he bent her knees and placed her feet flat on the bed, then openly stared at her down there. Feeling unnaturally exposed, Pam fought the urge to cross her legs.

Remembering the task at hand, Pam nervously cleared her throat. “Where is the labia majora?” she quizzed.

The touch of his tentative finger against her intimate area made Pam flinch. “Is it right here?” Jeremy asked.

“Good job.” Pam held the book aside so she could see him. Jeremy had his chin propped up in one hand while the other was poised between her legs. “How about the minora?” she asked.

“This part here,” he noted, running a finger down the length of one lip, then up the other. Pam tensed her muscles to keep her hips still. Gazing at the book's illustration, she embarrassedly realized Jeremy was looking at the same view between her legs.

“Vagina?” she asked, remembering too late their prearranged codeword. The clinical nature of the word effectively quashed any of her lingering hormones.

“Close,” Pam said, “but it's actually a little lower.” She stared at the ceiling as he probed her vaginal entrance. Afterward, he paused to examine his fingers, rubbing his thumb and middle finger together.

It didn't help to hear him say that. She felt even more self-conscious now. It had been a long time since she felt this way around him. “Is it?” Pam said, her heart racing. “I didn't know that- oh!” She inhaled sharply. Not even asking permission, the young boy plunged a finger inside her kitten. His finger wasn't very thick but she could feel it all the same.

A strange tide of emotion accompanied the physical feeling of him inside her. While Pam was overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy of the act, she could tell Jeremy was too young to understand the magnitude of what was happening. “Wow. This is weird!” he said, his eyes glued between her legs. Cautiously flexing his finger, he touched a sensitive spot that caused her to flinch and, inadvertently, clench her muscles. His eyes grew as big as dinner plates. “You just squeezed my finger!” he noted. “That's so weird!”

“I know you're blown away because you've never done this before. But can you think of a different word other than 'weird' when you're touching me?”

“Better. Thank you.” Her interior tug-of-war between unease and hormones had not abated, but Pam was flattered by his wonderment. Wanting to demonstrate her powers, she marshaled her resources to squeeze again. It wasn't easy because his finger was so narrow, but her muscles contracted as best they could. “Can you feel that?” she asked.

The eleven year old boy was suitably impressed. “Gosh,” was all he could say. Leaving his finger embedded inside her body, he said, “So what's next?”

His eyes flickered at the book in her hands. She had forgotten about the quiz. “Last one. Clitoris?”

“That's an easy one,” he said confidently. His finger disappointingly vacated her but Pam was rewarded by the sensation of him fumbling with her clitoral hood. “It's up here,” he said, searching. His fingers were now so slippery with her moisture that he had to use his other hand to part her lips. When that didn't work, he used his thumb to push her clitoral hood out of the way. Pam closed her eyes at the intimate sensation. Judging by her copious moisture, her clit was likely so swollen that it would not have been difficult to locate. “It's here. Right?” His lightly brushing finger was like a fairy dancing on the head of a pin.

“Right,” Pam managed to say. He kept accidentally brushing against her clit in his attempts to make it visible. Pam found herself enveloped in congealed waves of slow-flowing pleasure from the intimate contact. Though still inhibited, her arousal was starting to outweigh any discomfort. A syrupy sensation coated her senses, as if she were drowning in honey.

Jeremy continued exploring with an experimental touch. “Isn't this where you...”

“Where I what?” she prompted. He responded by rubbing her inflamed clitoris in slow but deliberate circles. “Yes, that,” she murmured. Unbidden, the Zen tea mantra popped into her head: A cherry blossom whispers to the damp earth in the springtime.

She instantly relaxed. Jeremy was the tree, towering over her, raining down cherry blossoms from his outstretched branches. Closing her eyes, she saw nothing but swirling colors that synchronized to the ever-expanding circle of pleasure emanating from between her legs. She never would have guessed it was his first time touching her down there. He seemed to know exactly what to do, his touch continuously varying from fast and light to slow and hard. Just the way she liked it.

The young boy's keen attention pushed her so close to the edge that she could no longer keep her eyes shut. Peeking out, she saw his head bent low between her legs, his face hidden by the rusty hair that fell across his forehead. The erection straining his underwear was more prominent than ever. She watched him adjust himself, a sight that made her leg unexpectedly spasm in excitement. Her foot slid against the smooth cotton sheet. Wanting to keep her legs spread wide, Jeremy firmly gripped her ankle to hold it in place.

That did it. She was his plaything. He was free to do whatever he pleased. The thought sent her tumbling into a deep orgasm. Urged by a series involuntary contractions, Pam's hips rose off the bed as she surrendered to the eleven year old boy's touch. She moaned, over and over, as Jeremy's finger danced expertly against her clit, never missing a beat.

Jeremy did not seem the least bit surprised by her orgasm. He didn't let up, even as she started descending from the apex of the pleasure. Unable to speak, Pam grabbed his wrist, then placed her fingers over his to get him to stop touching her now over-sensitive girl parts. No longer able to keep her legs open, she closed her knees in a fit of bashfulness. Pam rolled onto her side, pulling her legs into a protective fetal position. Once again, she felt very exposed.

Pam could only nod her head. She seemed to have temporarily lost her power of speech. With her arousal having expired, the embarrassment now came roaring back. It was as if she were twelve again, experiencing the post-orgasmic guilt from masturbating. “I'm fine,” she assured him. “I just... I don't know. You've never done that before.”

“I learned from watching you,” he answered. There was a tinge of pride in his voice. “Did I do it right?”

Pam couldn't contain a girlish giggle. He had apparently been taking mental notes all those times she had masturbated for him. “Oh yes,” she nodded. “That was wonderful. Thank you, Jeremy.”

“You're welcome, Pam.” He shyly dug his toe into the floor, but she could tell he was pleased with himself.

“Really? Whatever I want?” His eyes wandered to the forgotten shoebox half-covered in sheets on his bed.

I knew I should have put that box away, she thought ruefully. “All right,” she acquiesced. “We can try it.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Jeremy made a beeline for the shoebox, yanking away the sheets and tossing aside the lid. It was like watching him open presents on Christmas morning. He picked up a dildo (thankfully the smaller one), wielding it like a sword. Pam eyed him cautiously as he settled himself between her legs once more. “I know I sound like a broken record, but you're going to-”

His voice overlapped hers. “Be gentle,” they said in unison. Jeremy gave her an exhausted look. “Why is everyone always saying that?”

“You tell me,” Pam retorted. “You're the one throwing snowballs at Ashton's nuts.”

“That was, like, one time,” Jeremy excused. “And it was a lucky throw. Mostly. Besides, I wouldn't do something like that to you.” He paused. “You don't even have nuts.”

Pam rolled her eyes. “Why am I not the least bit reassured?” She regarded the dildo in his hand with the enthusiasm usually reserved for a tetanus shot at the doctor's office. “Get the stuff, will you?”

Jeremy retrieved the bottle of K-Y from his dresser. “Why do we need the stuff for?”

“You're not just going to jam that thing inside me,” Pam said patiently. “You need to make it slippery to... you know. Make it go in easier.” She watched as he carefully drizzled the K-Y onto the creamy silicone, then worked it in with a finger. Still doubtful, she got into the same position from before, laying on her back and moving her legs apart. Staring at the ceiling, she steeled herself for the clammy unpleasantness of the dildo. Instead, she felt something warm brushing her lips. After spending the last twenty minutes nestled in the electric blanket, the shoebox (and its contents) had unexpectedly warmed up to something resembling normal body temperature.

Pam did her best not to remain still as he experimentally probed, seeking his target. “A little lower,” she advised. “You're aiming too- oh!” It was a repeat of his surprise finger insertion, except the dildo was much, much thicker. Pam inhaled sharply as it sank into her body without warning.

“Um, it sure did,” she confirmed. Pam hadn't expected the sex toy to penetrate her so effortlessly. The K-Y had done its job, not to mention the fact that she was still wet from their earlier play. She couldn't see but it felt like more than half the dildo was inside her. Pam reminded herself to breathe. Despite the toy's modest size, there had been a definite dry spell for this level of girth.

“How far up does it go?” Jeremy wondered. He pushed the dildo further into her kitten, causing Pam to curl her toes against the mattress.

“It... d-doesn't go forever,” Pam stammered. A dull throb emanated from deep inside as the dildo made contact with her cervix. She had forgotten that feeling too. “Please stop trying to shove it in.”

“Take it out. Slowly.” The young boy began withdrawing the dildo inch by inch. Pam didn't realize she was tightly clutching the sheets until the hard sex toy popped free of her tight ring of vaginal muscle. She let out a whoosh of breath. “And we're done.”

“Can I put it in again?” he pleaded. Still feeling ambivalent, Pam paused for a moment before reluctantly nodding. This time, she was ready for the intrusion as he slowly slid in the dildo. Perhaps it was the dry spell talking, but the toy seemed surprisingly close to a real penis. Warming it up with the electric blanket made all the difference.

“It went in a lot easier this time,” Jeremy commented. Pam was too busy processing her feelings to respond. Similar to the song, she was feeling like a virgin. No one had ever used a dildo on her before. The sense of sexual experimentation was only heightened by the fact that she was letting Jeremy do it. He slowly pulled the dildo out, causing her head to fall back into her fluffy stack of pillows. Without asking, he once again buried the dildo in a single, firm thrust.

“Ooh,” she breathed. Since her eyes were shut, Jeremy evidently felt he had free reign to do as he pleased. Over and over, he plunged the dildo into her accommodating kitten, then retreated just as suddenly, leaving her with an empty feeling. Absent any visual cues, Pam found herself tensing up each time he unexpectedly penetrated her with the toy. Her initial reluctance soon gave way to a soft anticipation. She hadn't realized how much she missed that feeling of fullness until now.

Her breathing had taken on a distinctly ragged edge by the time she opened her eyes. Self-conscious again, she fought to keep her breath under control. Nonetheless, it didn't escape Jeremy's notice. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, it's doesn't hurt,” Pam said, groping for words. “I'm just... not used to this feeling. It's been a while.”

“No, you don't have to stop. But... can you rub my clitoris while you do that? It'll help me, um, get used to the feeling.” Pam envisioned him simultaneously touching her clit and thrusting the dildo, but Jeremy had other ideas. Evidently having trouble doing both at once, the young boy settled into a rather clumsy but unique technique: first, he would gently ease the dildo inside Pam, then use his thumb to rub her clit while the sex toy remained stationery. Then he would stop and pull the dildo out. Thrust, fondle, withdraw, fondle. Each action was completely separate. Pam supposed it was like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time. He just needed practice.

Jeremy's brow furrowed in concentration as he worked. She had seen him like this before. When he was drawing, he often got lost in the demanding yet rewarding realm of artistic expression. Her body adapted to his rhythm, anticipating the filling thrusts and the teasing stop/start on her clit. She was dreamily enjoying his ministrations through heavy-lidded eyes when Pam's senses snapped to attention.

Though Jeremy wasn't doing anything different, she had become dimly aware of a growing excitement that had appeared like a distant ship on the horizon. Her arousal was embarrassing. Jeremy's actions were rooted in youthful curiosity rather than sexual desire. If anything, he was just playing. Yet here she was, wet kitten and all, fighting off the fast-approaching orgasm. It was a losing struggle and Pam knew it. Not straying from his rhythm, Jeremy propelled the dildo into her kitten, immediately followed with a confident stroke of her swollen clit, then-

“Fuck!” Pam moaned, completely unprepared as the orgasm slammed into her. “Oh fuck...” She frantically grabbed his wrist to prevent him from withdrawing. The forgotten pleasures of vaginal stimulation sent her into an orgasm so powerful that her hips lurched off the bed, as if she were offering herself to the young boy. Her legs quivered uncontrollably and a flush of pink spread across her chest. She hadn't come like this in a long time.

When it was over, she remained motionless for several minutes. A warm and oozy sensation spread across her body. Pam felt like a dish of butter melting in the sunshine. She finally recovered enough to release Jeremy's wrist. He pulled the dildo out as gently as possible, but she flinched as the hard silicone dragged against her delicate tissue. Even once it was out, he didn't move from his spot between her legs, letting the dildo rest lazily against her pink lips.

Despite his solemn regard, Jeremy's eyes were round with amusement. “You said the F-word,” he informed her.

Jeremy gave her a knowing look. “I know it's a good one if you touch your boobs,” he stated.

Wordlessly, he pointed at her chest. It was only then that Pam noticed that a lone breast had worked free of its bra cup. When did that happen? “Ha... Oops,” she said. Blushing even more, Pam meekly adjusted her bra and slipped everything into its right place. She contentedly stretched on his bed, arms high and legs wide. Jeremy must have been waiting for an opening because she immediately felt the dildo prodding her again.

“Oh Jeremy... Give a girl a break, won't you?” she implored. Nonetheless, Pam accommodatingly parted her legs wide.

“But this is so fun,” Jeremy said, slipping it inside her once more. It was like he had a new favorite toy. “I want to make you swear again!”

She gave him her best stern look, but it was difficult with the dildo already slipping in and out. Accidentally, she made a noise somewhere between a moan and a meow, causing Jeremy to pause in concern.

“Um, no. It's fine.” Her kitten was practically dripping from her own excitement. Each thrust from Jeremy caused it to make embarrassingly sloppy and squishy sounds. Pam wished they had some music on to cover it up. Despite her self-consciousness, her clit was aching for attention so she moved a hand between her legs.

Jeremy nodded. Relieved of clit duty, he began rhythmically impaling her with the dildo. Letting go of her inhibitions, Pam requested, “Do it a little faster, please?”

Jeremy complied. It wasn't only the speed that changed, but the manner as well. There was now the merest hint of forcefulness as the young boy penetrated her with the toy. Even so, he was still treating her like a delicate crystal vase when what she really wanted was...

“Faster,” she bashfully repeated, raising her voice. “Harder.” It had been her singular pleasure to make Jeremy lose control of himself, but the tables were now turned. The sex toy pummeled her like a piston. Telling Jeremy to do something faster and harder was normally not the best idea, but she had finally found the perfect task for his reckless nature. Pam was getting close when Jeremy accidentally pulled out too far. The rhythm was lost as he misjudged re-entry and banged the dildo against her crotch.

“Put it back!” Pam begged. “Put it ba- Ohhh...” Her words were cut short as Jeremy obligingly rammed the dildo into her waiting kitten. Unable to resist any longer, Pam yanked her bra aside, squeezing her hard nipple as her other hand frantically ground her clit.

“Oh fu-” Pam bit her lip, but the utterance did not escape Jeremy's notice. Staring into his eyes, Pam willingly surrendered to another orgasm. The good news was that she refrained from swearing this time. The bad news was that she could not refrain from grunting in uncontrollable pleasure.

“Uh... uh... uh... uhh...” she groaned, the noises synchronized to each time he plunged into her body. She couldn't help it. His unyielding thrusts had awakened a base instinct that reduced her to an animal-like state. Pam's fingers clutched tightly at the sheets as soundless explosions burst in her mind.

As before, Pam had to clamp a wrist around his hand to curb Jeremy's enthusiasm once her orgasm waned. “Okay, ease up! Ease up.” His strokes slowed but he stopped with the dildo inside her, buried to the hilt. Wanting to remove the dildo herself, Pam unwrapped his fingers from it and began inching it out.

I've created a monster, Pam thought. Taking over, Jeremy placed one hand on her abdomen while the other firmly grasped the protruding end of the dildo. Needing to hold on to something during the extraction process, Pam grabbed his warm hand on her tummy, covering it with a sweaty palm. Despite his prudence, she still involuntarily gasped when he finally pulled it free of her body.

“Um, are you going to let go of my hand?” Jeremy asked. Pam realized her fingers were still clamped tight around his hand on her belly. Releasing him, she was embarrassed to see him wiggle his fingers one by one, then shake his hand like a rattle.

“Sorry,” Pam apologized. “I didn't realize I was squeezing your hand that hard.”

“It's okay,” he answered, still continuing his finger calisthenics. He mentally tallied up the score. “You just did it three times. In a row.”

A series of aftershocks descended, causing Pam to shiver. “Yeah. I'm talented that way.”

“You mean you can do it over and over again?” he asked in disbelief. As he spoke, he waved the dildo around like it was a wand. “And there's no limit to how many times you can do it?”

“That's right.” Pam smiled wanly, brushing away the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead.

“It's like you have a superpower,” he said reverently. Pam had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. When putting things into context, Jeremy sometimes lacked accuracy but he more than compensated in cuteness. He continued, “This one time, I was able to do it two times in a row. But it wasn't easy.”

“Wow.” He paused to imagine such a scene, then blinked several times to rouse himself from whatever mental image he had conjured. “Can we try the big one now?” he asked, glancing at the shoebox on the bed.

Pam tried to give him a reproachful look but she was too tired even for that. What was up with guys and big cocks? “Jeremy, look at that thing. It's the size of your forearm. It's not going to fit inside me.”

He gazed longingly into the box, as if it held the keys to a Ferrari. “Well, why do they even make them this big then?”

“I really don't know. I suppose some women might be able to handle it. But if you tried to use that thing on me, you would split me in two. Is that really what you want?”

He sighed. “I don't want you to be split in two,” Jeremy said dolefully. He held up the first dildo. “What should I do with this? It's getting sticky.”

“Just put it down somewhere,” she told him. “I'll wash it later.” The dildo had a flat base, allowing it to stand on its own. Jeremy placed it on his dresser, where it looked wildly out of place among his youth soccer trophies.

His scrawny frame was tempting and the ever-present bulge in his underwear was pitiable, but she just couldn't do it. “You kind of wore me out,” Pam confessed. “Can I take a nap? A short one?”

He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. “I'm waking you up in ten minutes.”

Pam pulled the sheets over herself. “Don't be that way,” she chided. “Do you know how many times I've watched you fall asleep afterward?”

“I don't know. That was a rhetorical question. But the answer is a lot. Can't you just hold me while I sleep?”

“All right.” Gruffly giving in, Jeremy climbed into bed. Pam rolled onto her side to let him spoon her. His cotton underwear felt rough against her bare bum.

Turning her head, Pam demanded, “Give me a goodnight kiss too.” Too drowsy to open her eyes, she was surprised to feel his chapped lips on her mouth when she had been expecting a chaste kiss on the cheek. Grinning like a fool, Pam fell into a contented slumber with Jeremy cuddling her in a warm embrace. Something was poking her lower back, but she didn't mind. After all, it would remind her not to sleep too long.

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