How Mildred Became Millie
by Seventies writer
The sun was rapidly warming my bedroom when I finally awoke after my first good night’s sleep in a week or more. I rolled over and looked at my watch, it was already 10 AM. I was still somewhat tired and might have been able to go back to sleep for another hour or so, but the increasing heat indicated that it was time to get up.
The reason for my poor sleep in the days before was my panic efforts to finish out my freshman year at college without flunking out. I believe that I achieved that goal, but not before pulling several all-nighters – first to finish two term papers and second to cram for my finals. This last-minute panic was entirely my fault for enjoying too many spring parties; and I resolved to do better next year – assuming, of course, that there was a next year. Another reason for the hot morning was that the college I attended had experienced a major fire in a key building over the summer. Our start of classes was thus moved back, so that classes ended late in June
So, I’m Matt and I have two great parents, Alicia and Matthew (I’m named for him, but he always went by the full name) plus an older sister, Karen, and a younger sister, Becky. We live in a nice neighborhood on the edge of a medium-sized town. The town center isn’t very far away, but we back up to some nice open woods that lead down to a river.
When I finally stumbled groggily down the stairs to the kitchen, my sister, Karen, was there to greet me. “Welcome home, looks like you pulled a few all-nighters at the end of your semester”. I said, “Yeah, how did you know?” “You look just like I must have looked after my first year at college. Too many spring parties perhaps?
“You got that right, but I think I managed to not flunk out, so I will get a chance to do better next year.”
“When I heard you stirring, I put some coffee on. Would you like some eggs and bacon, or will it just be cereal?”
“Eggs and bacon sound great, but why such royal treatment?”
“Because you’re my brother, and I can totally relate to how you’re feeling right now. College has been great for me, and I too worried that I might not make it past my first year.
So, I gratefully drank my coffee, ate the breakfast my sister cooked, and finally began to finally feel ‘normal’ again.
Before I had finished my second cup of coffee, my mother returned, having dropped Becky off to do a community service project with her high school class – picking up garbage along one of the state highways that run through our town. She would be back for lunch, though.
Karen then suggested that she and I should take a walk down to the river to breathe and get some fresh, if warm, air. I agreed that I needed to ‘get off my butt’ after all my studying. I was wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt. Karen had on some long tights and a t-shirt. She then said she was going to change into something more appropriate for the now-warm morning.
She soon returned from her room wearing some very short shorts and a tank top that didn’t reach all that far below her breasts.
Mom said, “Are you really going out in that outfit?” Karen, “Mom it’s hot, I’m just going with my brother, and no one else is likely to see us.” Mom said, “O.K., good, I guess, that you are comfortable with that sort of dress within the family.”
So, we started off to the river, and I caught myself suddenly realizing just how hot my sister was. When we got there, Karen reached down to check the temperature of the water. “The water’s warm for this early in the season, so let’s go swimming.”
“But we didn’t bring our suits.”
“Who needs suits? We’re brother and sister, there’s no one else around, we’ll just skinny-dip.”
With that, Karen started peeling off the few clothes she had on. Soon, she was totally naked and I gasped at her full, firm breasts, tight stomach, and long, toned legs. Somehow, I had only just a few minutes ago thought of my sister as ‘hot’, but hot she was as she stood there naked.
Now, I had an immediate problem. My ‘dick-has-it’s-own mind’ had risen in my shorts. I really didn’t want to reveal myself in this compromising position to my sister.
“I don’t think it’s warm enough for me to swim in the river just yet,”
“What’s wrong, little brother, embarrassed about the erection I can see in your shorts? I’ll take that as a compliment any day”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I never thought I should have any sexual thoughts about my sisters, and until now, I never have.”
“Don’t worry, as long as you don’t try to rape either of us. I know that I like your reaction to my nakedness; and I’m sure Becky would feel the same way. Now, do you need some help shedding those shorts?’
And without waiting for a reply, Karen came over and forcibly pulled my shorts down. As she bent over after the pull, my fully erect member sprang up and hit her in the chin. She just smiled and finished the job of removing my shorts.
I quickly stepped out of my shoes, lost my t-shirt, and jumped into the river. Mercifully, the cool water quickly deflated my erection, so I didn’t feel like a pervert as I swam upstream next to my sister. As we swam up, the flow below some mild rapids became stronger. This wasn’t a big river, and no spot was really above my head. There was enough water to swim, however, and my sister, a competitive swimmer in high school and in college, recognized that this was a natural ‘endless pool’ where one could swim forever at a certain pace and never either gain ground or be pushed back.
So, with me a few feet back, where the current wasn’t quite as strong, we swam for 10-15 minutes before my sister decided she was a bit cold. We waded out onto dry ground and took up seats on opposite logs to dry off in the sun.
After having just talked about school on the way down to the river, my sister wasted no time starting to interrogate me about my ‘love life’ in college.
“So, Matt, any hot dates your freshman year?
“No, a few coffee and movie dates, but nothing steady.”
“Did the movie dates lead to anything more, if I may ask?
Before this interrogation, I was proud that I was sitting and looking at my hot, naked sister and remaining totally flaccid. I would soon learn, however, that ‘pride goeth before a rise’.
“No, not much more I replied. Some kissing and a bit of feeling-up, but that seemed to end it.”
“So,” says my sister, “how did you feel them up. Was it like this?” as she grabbed the sides of her naked breast and pulled them forward toward her nipples.
“Yes, I guess that was about how I felt them up.”
“Oh, so some of us girls call boys like you, ‘milkers’ as though you worked in a dairy barn or something. Here’s how girls like for boys to ‘caress’, not “feel-up’ their breasts.”
With that, Karen started to gently stroke her breasts, starting from the bottom and continuing up over her nipples. She then noted that, done properly, the nipples should become erect with this stimulation, pointing out that, with just one brush, her nipples were now totally erect. And that wasn’t the only thing that was now totally erect!
“Oh, I see you liked that little demonstration. Can I ask if you ever take care of that ‘little problem’ with your own hand?”
“Well, er”, I replied, “most guys do, I guess”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, and humbly request that you demonstrate your ‘relief technique’ for me. You see, I’ve given guys hand jobs in the dark, and, as you might have suspected, I’ve had guys come in me; but I’ve never seen what it actually looks like when a guy comes. You are the perfect subject to fill me in.”
I couldn’t believe the proposition my sister had just made, and I tried to think of a way to get out of my predicament. Just then, however, she sensed my reluctance and upped the stakes with an offer to show me more of herself.
“O.K. little brother, I’ll show you the rest of me, for your ongoing education of course, to make sure that the feeling in your rock hard member becomes irresistible.”
My sister then spread her legs and provided me with a very intimate anatomy lesson of her nether regions. My erection was now pulsing like it never had, and the only relief seemed to be to assume the familiar position.
“I thought that might do it”, my sister said, “now let’s see what you can produce.”
So, while still feeling quite embarrassed at this turn of events, I started my usual pumping. Faster that I could remember, however, I felt the rising sensation of an imminent orgasm. I aimed myself away from my sister and let go with some spurts that went several feet past my sister. She thanked me for both the demonstration and for missing her as it was time to head back to the house and there wasn’t time to go back into the water to wash off.
Back at the house, we, now including my sister Becky, sat down to a nice lunch of chilled tuna salad, cold lemonade, and even, unusual for us, ice cream for dessert.
Karen then related our walk to the river and noted, “You know, I think I’d like to go back and swim there this afternoon because it looks as though the current at the head of the pool is just right to be an ‘endless pool’. Somehow, I managed to keep a straight face while I said that I agreed and would like to go back as well. At first, Becky and Mom didn’t indicate that they would join us because Becky had to be at the tryouts for a local summer soccer club team that would travel to other towns during the summer. There seemed to be some question as to exactly when Becky had to be there.
Meanwhile, Karen and I grabbed some suits and towels and headed down to the river. When we got there, Karen said, “We didn’t need these suits this morning, why put them on now?” I replied, “Well, I think we better at least return with some wet suits, or there might be questions.”
Karen agreed, and we donned our suits, right in front of each other, of course, and plunged into the water. We had just begun to make our way up to the head of the pool when we heard voices. I quickly considered my ‘call’ to wear suits a very good one as soon Mom and Becky came down to the bank of the river.
Mom and Becky had put on their suits at the house and were walking down with t-shirts covering their tops. At the edge of the river, both removed the shirts. Mom quickly noted that Becky’s suit looked way too small given how she had grown the past year. Becky, of course, protested that the suit still covered everything that needed to be covered, and so what if it was a little tight. Mom responded that the way it fit it was all too easy for it to come off and give the boys a show they didn’t deserve.
Point made, Mom and Becky quickly got in the water. Mom who also had been a competitive swimmer in her day, followed Karen up to the ‘endless pool’. Becky, who didn’t want to stress her legs in any way before the soccer tryouts, just paddled about before landing and climbing up on a low rock above the pool. As she made to dive off, I cautioned her that the pool wasn’t all that deep, so it needed to be a shallow dive. Becky nodded her understanding before launching off on a very flat, shallow dive. When she came to a stop in waist-deep water, she stood up and, just as Mom had predicted, the top to her bikini was closer to her waist than it was to her breasts. She saw me staring at the sight of her firm teen-age breasts as she reached down to raise the top, all the while licking her lips seductively as she slowly and, yes teasingly, covered up. Fortunately, Mom and Karen were totally focused on their swimming and saw none of the little display of teen-age sexuality. It also made me wonder how many other guys might have been treated to a similar sight.
After, again, about 15 minutes, Mom and Karen decided that they were a bit cold, drifted back down to where Becky and I were, and we all then climbed out. Mom and Becky dried off, put on their t-shirts, and prepared to head back. Karen said that we would stay and perhaps take another swim after we warmed up a bit.
Karen and I were again alone next to the river, and I wondered what she had in mind this time. I didn’t have to wonder very long, because not long after the others were out of earshot, Karen said that she thought I could use some practical, hands-on training in how to treat a girl. She of course tried to make this sound purely ‘educational’ and only for the benefit of any future girlfriend I might become intimate with. I certainly wasn’t about to protest when she quickly removed her suit, asking me to do the same so that we were both equal. Then she moved closer, took my left hand, placed it on her right breast. She then slowly moved my hand up from the bottom until my hand touched her nipple.
“Just give it a little tweak”, she said, “and then go down and start over, this time without my ‘guidance’.
Of course, I did exactly as she instructed. When I again had gently stroked up to her nipple, I found that it was good and hard, just as something else had become equally hard. Now, I was instructed to give her left breast the same treatment, and I soon achieved the same result.
Karen then said, “Good, first lesson mastered. Now, let’s move on to the next phase of female pleasure – again just for your education and benefit of future girlfriends.”
My hand was then guided to between her legs where I was instructed to first gently rub the inside of each thigh. That I did, accompanied by some gentle sighs from my sister.
“O.K., little brother, you are learning fast. Now let me take your hand and give you a tour of the ‘promised land.”
With that, my hand was placed on her now quite wet labial lips and told to find her hole, insert a finger inside, and gently wiggle it around. “In some girls”, she explained, “you may find their G-spot, which is extremely sensitive, but somehow I don’t believe every girl has one. At least I don’t seem to have one, but there is still one guaranteed spot that will ultimately please every female – the clitoris.”
With that, she gently pulled my hand out of her hole and guided it upwards to a hard little button in her folds above her hole. “Can you feel that hard little bump?”, she asked. I said, “yes” and started to gently massage it. This elicited more and louder moans from my sister and finally an admission. “This was supposed to be just educational, but now I can’t stop and you need to keep doing that until I cum.”
I needed no further encouragement, and continued my ministrations to her most sensitive area. As her moans grew louder, and her body began to twitch a bit, I suddenly felt a hand on my erect member. “Yes, let’s cum together, little brother. Keep it up and when I’m ready to cum, I’ll speed up and finish you off as well.” Sounded like a good deal to me, so I continued for a few minutes more before my sister indicated with a loud groan and a major twitch that I had achieved her side of the bargain. Her hand then sped up and soon I was grunting and groaning alongside my sister as we both came to orgasm. I rated this as my most intense orgasm to date, but had to wait until she finally came down for her analysis.
“Oh my God”, she said, “that was one of my most intense orgasms ever. I guess it was because I could instruct you every step of the way. Now, most girls, and I’m one of them, like a long, intense hug as soon as possible after they’ve orgasmed.” I willingly complied with about a two-minute and very tight hug before my sister said, “Lesson over. let’s get back in the water to clean off, and as far as I’m concerned, this never happened. Right?” “Right”, I replied, “I won’t forget the lessons, I’ll just manage to forget who taught me.”
We then went back in for a short dip before drying off, putting our clothes back on, and heading back to the house.
How Mildred Became Millie Chapter 2 – The Meeting
When we got to the house, we both took a long drink of water, given our earlier exertions, and Karen indicated she might take a nap. It was clear to me, however, that I was not invited to nap with her. So, having slept late that morning, I thought I might as well get on my bike and pedal over to the field where the tryouts were being held.
It was only about a 15-minute pedal. I saw many cars parked and many anxious parents watching and hoping their child would make the cut. I soon was able to see the field where Becky’s tryout was happening. By now, the tryouts were on to scrimmaging. I moved closer and watched as she expertly dribbled down the field, encountered a defender, rolled the ball back, and kicked it with a foot behind her lead foot. This totally confused the defender, and she took another two or three dribbles before expertly passing the ball to the center of the field. I figured that she would make the team, and indeed she did.
After watching that performance, I noticed a girl standing near me who was also holding a ten-speed bike similar to mine. After a second or so, I recognized her as Mildred Miller, who was a class behind me at my high school. She was of about average height with shoulder-length light brown hair and a pleasant, if not spectacularly beautiful, face. Her breasts seemed a bit larger than “average”, but otherwise one didn’t see anything other than a “nice” girl. I hadn’t really known her that well in our years together in the same school, but I had heard that she wasn’t much fun on a date. In fact, some who had taken her out described her as “downright frigid”.
Nevertheless, since we both were there with our bikes, I went over to say ‘hello’. I knew that she had played soccer, and asked why she wasn’t out there trying out. She indicated that she was never that good, and even recognized that she had seen my sister’s proficiency out on the field. She also said that she didn’t really like playing in the heat that team would play in, and, in fact, didn’t really like team sports all that much anyway.
She then said that she was relieved that she was given a special way to fulfill her final phys-ed requirement for graduation. In her sophomore year, she had been sick and therefore couldn’t do any sports. Our school had a strict policy (which I thought was good) of the number of semesters that one had to either be in a PE class or had to be on a sports team. So, Mildred said she was one credit short, but the school athletic director knew that the last thing she wanted to do was be on the girl’s softball team. So, knowing that she like to bike, he offered her the option of a daily ten-mile ride around a particular loop with some good hills to climb along the way.
Mildred said that she loved that option, and quickly agreed to it. She said the athletic director told her he would trust her to do that daily loop and to never check on her. However, she gleefully noted one day early-on when she was riding she detected the hood of the distinctive car owned by the athletic director parked back in a driveway where he thought he was hidden. She said she just rode on by and never looked that way, but never saw that car again. I said I was pleased it worked out for her.
Then, she said, “Would like to ride that loop with me?” Well, how, exactly could I say ‘no”. So, we started out, and I soon realized that all those trips around that loop had put her in better shape than I was from just pedaling around the campus. Nevertheless, I made the needed effort, drafted her when that helped me, and managed to finish the loop still with her.
We then seemed to have a bit of a bond, so I boldly asked her if she wanted to go to a movie with me that night. She said, “sure”, what’s playing. I said that I had seen that “The Sting” was at the theater not far from where she lived, and that it was supposed to be a good movie, given all the Academy Awards it had won.
“It’s ‘R-rated’, I think. Is there a lot of sex in it?” she asked. “No, I don’t think so. just a bit of violence and a complicated plot that gives it the ‘R’ rating.
“O.K.”, she said, “What time?”
“I’ll double check the marquee when I head home, but I am pretty sure the early show is at 7, so I’ll come to your house about 15 minutes before that. But give me your phone number in case I realize that it is a different time. And I think I have enough money for the tickets, but can you pay for the popcorn?’ “Deal”, she said.
When we sat down for dinner as a family, Becky proudly announced that she had indeed made the team and repeated some of the compliments given her by the coaches. I then said that I had run into Mildred Miller while watching the tryouts, had taken a bike ride with her, and was now going to a movie with her.
“So”, says my father, “Is picking up hot dates what you learned in college?”
Before I could answer, Becky jumped in, “Don’t worry, Dad, Mildred is no hot date. I hear she won’t even let a boy touch her at the movies.”
“Becky!”, my mother immediately said, “that’s not a nice thing to say, and you only know that second hand. Leave it alone.
“O.K. Mom, but it’s true,” Becky said, not really ‘leaving it alone’.
I bicycled over to Mildred’s house and found her alone – her parents having gone to a dinner party. She said her parents knew we would be going to a movie. We then walked the short distance to the theater. Once inside at the ticket booth, I realized that the theater had decided it could raise the price for this movie, given all the awards it had won. I only had enough for what that theater usually charged for tickets. Momentary panic, but what could I do but ask Mildred for her ‘popcorn money’ to allow me to buy the tickets. I expected a groan of exasperation that I was so broke, but she gladly gave me the money and just said, “You can come back to my house afterwards, and I’ll make us some popcorn there. “Deal”, I said.
I asked her where she liked to sit, and she chose some seats in the middle not all that far back from the screen. I was not disappointed, as her reputation did not indicate that she would have chosen some secluded corner of the theater. We sat down, and I simply casually rested my arm on the armrest next to her. As the movie unfolded, I could appreciate why it had won so many awards, and my occasional glance over at Mildred seemed to indicate that she was enjoying it as well. The movie does have a number of tense scenes when one wonders how Robert and Paul will manage to keep their quest for the ultimate “sting” going. Each time there was a tense scene, Mildred would clutch my hand as it rested on the armrest between us. I carefully avoided any attempt to clutch her back until the final climactic scene when her hand was practically crushing mine. Only then did I turn my hand and grip her hand.
As I did that, I think I heard a slight sigh of satisfaction, but in any case she never let go of my hand even as the credits rolled; and we ultimately walked out of the theater holding hands. I know, for most guys leaving a movie theater simply holding hands with one’s date is not a great triumph, but with Mildred I thought it was a big step in the right direction.
So, we walked holding hands until we were within sight of her house when she pulled away. “My parents are very concerned that I not become too involved with any boy, so in case they are already back from their party I don’t want it to seem we are even doing this much after a first date.” “O.K.”, I said, “let’s not ruin the evening with a parent lecture .”
When we got to her house, her parents were still out, so I sat on the end of a sofa in the living room while Mildred busied herself making the popcorn, declining my offer to help. In seemingly no time, she emerged from the kitchen with a large bowl, seasoned with plenty of salt and fairly dripping with melted butter. I sampled a handful, and pronounced it ,”better than movie theater popcorn.”
Mildred sat in a chair at the end of the coffee table in front of the sofa while I remained at my end of the sofa. We then wasted no time emptying the bowl until there was just one handful left. Mildred then said, ” I made it, this last bit is mine.” “Not so fast”, I said, “we should share.” And with that I grabbed her hand that was clutching that last bit and pulled her in the direction of a space I made next to me on the sofa. Without hesitation, she came and sat down right next to me, still clutching that last handful of popcorn. “Now, open up and we’ll share,” I said, which she did, and so we finished the popcorn.
Mildred was sitting to my right, but I had been eating with my left hand, so my right hand was not greasy, and I slipped it around her, pulled her closer, and said, “Thank you for today, the bike ride, the movie, the popcorn, and just your company in general.” With that, she looked toward me with the biggest smile I had seen all day. It was a smile that somehow just deserved to be kissed, so I did just that.
The initial reaction was a bit awkward, indicating to me, given her reputation and what she had told me about her parent’s edicts, that this was her first ‘real’ kiss. After a brief pause, and sensing no resistance to a second kiss, I again met her lips with mine, resulting in a much more accepting response. Now, did I dare opening my mouth on a third try? It seemed that would be accepted as well, and it was. Soon, we were engaged in a pretty heavy make-out session with a few sighs and a bit of elevated breathing on both sides. Breaking from that session, she said, “Wow, I never knew what I was missing, as long it was with the right guy of course.”
“Glad you liked it, so did I. Want another?”
Mildred didn’t answer, just moved toward me this time, and we picked up where we had left off. Now, I thought, maybe I could take this one step further, but with her parents due back anytime, that would have to be the end for tonight. So, knowing that I might risk ruining the relationship, I took my left hand (which I had wiped on my pants to remove the butter) and placed it at her waist. Not sensing any resistance as our tongues continued to ‘communicate’ I slowly brought my hand up until I brushed over her right breast. The reaction was not the slap that I had feared, but a slight sigh. So, I repeated the move, but unlike my sister’s promise that I would feel an erect nipple, there was no discernible change.
I was just about to go for a third pass, when my eyes detected some headlights flashing by the window at the far end of the house. I quickly broke off the kiss and said “Your parents are home.”
Mildred immediately sprang into action. She jumped up, plumped up the pillow where she had been sitting, and resumed her seat in the chair at the end of the coffee table. A minute or two later, her parents came in from the kitchen entrance. I felt the urge to properly stand as they entered the room, while Mildred, perhaps a bit too quickly and eagerly, explained the increased ticket prices, the promise of a bowl of popcorn here at the house, and then she finally introduced me to her parents.
It seemed to take a bit for Mildred’s mother to absorb all of this blurted out information, but her initial stern look softened, and she finally offered her hand in greeting as did her dad.
Her mother then said, “I heard you two had a nice bike ride together, how was the movie?”
“We both agreed that it deserved all those Academy Awards, but still didn’t think the movie theater should have raised the price. After all, the theater was practically full for the early show, and there was a long line waiting to get in for the late show.”
“That’s capitalism for you”, said her dad, “charge what the market will bear.”
I elected not to engage in an Economics 101 debate, and just said, “I’ll thank Mildred for the popcorn”, and head on home.
But Mildred quickly said, “You’re welcome, but maybe you want to do another bike ride tomorrow before I have to leave for two weeks as a counselor at a church camp.”
“That sounds great, but I promised my Uncle Fred that I’d help him stack wood at his cabin up at Crystal Lake.”
“Maybe he’d like some extra help,” Mildred said.
“I don’t know. He’s a bit weird, so I better ask him first before if I can include you. I’ll give him a call when I get home. I’ve already got your number here, so I’ll call you in a half-hour or so.”
And with that I said polite ‘good byes’ to Mildred and her parents and pedaled the 10 minutes back to my house, assuring them before I left that I had plenty of good light for my bike to make it safe after dark.
When I got home, my mother (Fred’s sister) said that Fred had called to say that he had been splitting wood all day, and that his back was so totally ‘seized up’ that he wasn’t going to be doing any wood stacking the next day. O.K., that resolved that issue, but I thought maybe a full-day bike ride the 25 miles each way up and back to Uncle Fred’s cabin would be a good outing for us tomorrow.
So, I called and proposed we both pack a lunch, meet at the north end of town, and pedal on up to Crystal Lake. The response was more than enthusiastic, and I went to bed wondering where this new relationship would go.
How Mildred Became Millie Chapter 3 – The Next Step
Even though we didn’t live that far apart, I had suggested that we meet at a gas station at the north end of town. (A gas station?- this was before gas was mostly sold at convenience stores). Anyway, I packed a lunch, filled a water bottle, put both and a light wind-breaker in a small pack, and pedaled up to the station at the appointed time. I saw that Mildred’s bike was already there, but no Mildred. She soon emerged from the bathroom, returned the key to the attendant, and came over to greet me with a quick hug. She was wearing a t-shirt, and her breasts seemed smaller than they had been when I saw her the day before. I also had some sense that maybe she wasn’t wearing a bra given what seemed like a more natural motion under the fabric.
She also had a small pack for her lunch and water, and we quickly mounted and headed off up the highway. The road here was straight, flat, and open with no trees to break the north wind we were facing. At first, I let her lead and relaxed in her draft as I had done the day before. But after 30 or so minutes, I felt that even Mildred, who had worked herself into such good bicycling condition, was slowing down. So, I pulled up next to her and explained how bicyclists could help each other by taking turns leading with the other following closely. Mildred nodded as I moved to the front and faced the wind. I lasted for maybe 20 minutes before Mildred easily passed me saying, “Thanks for the rest.”
I then fell in behind her for another stretch before again assuming the lead. After I had been leading for, again, maybe 20 minutes, I saw a rest area with some roofed-over picnic tables. This seemed like a good place to stop, get out of the sun, and have a few sips of water. I pulled in and Mildred followed, clearly thinking just as I did. We dug out our respective water bottles, took good gulps, and then she turned to me to say, “Thank you so much for everything. From the movie, to teaching me about drafting, to being a great new friend.” With that, she wrapped her arms around me in a giant hug.
While appreciating the hug in its own right, I did rub my hand inquisitively up and down her back as I tried to satisfy my perverted curiosity about whether she was wearing a bra. She fairly quickly sensed the reason for my motions and said, “You guessed it, no bra today.” This was followed by a lengthy explanation.
“You see, my mother has always been concerned that I not be in any way sexually attractive to men. She thinks men are just animals who only want one thing, sex, and I guess I pretty much believed that until I met you yesterday. So, my mother always insisted that I wear padded bras so that there was no chance that I would ever arouse one of you animalistic men by revealing a nipple. I left home with my padded bra, but I knew it would be hot today, and the last thing I needed was any extra insulation on my body. So, I ducked into the rest room at the gas station, took it off, and put it in my pack.”
After that torrent of information, all I could say is, “I’m glad you don’t think I’m ‘animalistic’ even though I did check you out regarding a bra.”
“No problem, in every other way you’ve proven my mother wrong, and I’m wondering what I’ve missed by obeying her edicts up to now.”
With that, we mounted our bikes and continued our battle with the seemingly increasing north wind. Finally, after nearly 20 miles, the highway began to climb into a forest, and the wind was less of an issue. Now it was the grade, but still pretty easily doable. A few miles farther on, it was time to exit the main highway and start a steeper climb up toward the lake. We both shifted down to some of our lowest gears, but continued to make good progress toward my uncle’s cabin. As we climbed, the wind began to feel cooler, and some very dark clouds suddenly covered the sun. Finally, we were where the private roads that accessed the cabins diverged from the public road. By now, there were some distant rumbles of thunder, and I wondered if we could make the final mile as Uncle Fred’s cabin was on the far side of the lake before the rain started.
In the end, we actually had the cabin in sight before the rain burst upon us. We pulled in, ran for the cover of the back porch that faced the lake (the only entrance), but were still somewhat damp by the time we reached the small covered area that was really just a portico offering very little protection from any wind-driven rain. And the wind was strong and getting stronger.
I then said, “I think we need to get inside, and I think I can find a key hidden behind one of the posts.” With that, I dashed out, found the key behind the first post I tried, but by then the water was pouring off the roof. My upper body, that had to reach through that ‘curtain’ of water, was completely soaked. We stashed the bikes on the porch, and soon we were both inside, taking off our wet shoes as we entered.
The first thing I did was take my shirt off, wring it out in the sink, and then place it near a small electric space heater, which I turned on. I knew it wouldn’t dry all that much before we left, but anything would be an improvement.
Mildred’s shirt wasn’t as wet as mine, but a gust of wind had blown some rain onto the porch while I went for the key. Her shirt clung pretty tightly to her body and, to her mother’s horror, her erect nipples were very much in evidence.
“It’s just not fair”, she said, “You guys can take off a wet shirt, but us girls can’t.”
“Well”, I replied, “your mother’s not here to see it, and you’ve said that I’m not ‘animalistic’, so go ahead and take it off and hang it next to mine. I promise this won’t be a provocation for rape. And I can see pretty much everything now with the shirt still on.”
At that, Mildred looked down and realized I was right about how much was visible. I could then see in her face the look of some very intense internal debate, but very slowly and hesitantly she grabbed the bottom of her shirt and began to lift it off. Finally pulling it over her head, she placed it next to mine before instinctively crossing her arms over her chest.
“Relax”, I said, “I’ve already seen everything when you took it off, and how are you going to eat your lunch with your hands like that?’
With that, Mildred breathed a deep sigh of resignation and slowly unclasped her arms. Taking another deep breath, she looked at me, smiled, and said, “I can’t believe how much I have changed in the last 24 hours. And it’s all good, and it’s all because of you.”
She then leaned in for a bare-chested hug and a kiss. The kiss quickly became two, and pretty soon were back to where we had been the night before with no end in sight. I loved the feel of her erect nipples pressed to my bare chest, and then, somehow, we started to collapse toward the day bed that was positioned next to the space heater. At first, we just sat there making out, but soon began to recline until we were stretched out next to each other in a full-body embrace with Mildred on my left.
At first, I was happy with just this new-found skin-to-skin contact, but soon freed up my right hand to carefully start stroking her left breast. I slowly came up from below to the accompaniment of some gentle sighs, but when I reached her already erect nipple she made a sudden inhale-exhale followed by a satisfied “mmmm…” I then repeated the maneuver several more times with the result that she pulled away just a bit as an invitation to go to work on her other breast. I then laid back on my back, but managed to curl my left hand around so that it could work on her left breast while my right hand switched its attention to her right. I was enjoying this immensely and hoped that the rain would keep falling for hours. It seemed Mildred felt the same way, and I wondered just how far this session would go.
By now, I was pretty much flat on my back with Mildred on her side next to me. Without really even thinking about it, I pressed my left knee to her thighs, which opened to allow my leg to slide in. Now, my thigh was pressed against her mound, and this elicited another deeper sigh. My breathing was also elevated, but so far Mildred hadn’t done anything to me that really got my attention. That was until she crossed her left leg over and rested it on my stomach and my now fully erect member.
“Oh my God, you’re huge,” she suddenly said. “I can’t believe how big you are.”
“I haven’t really compared myself to other guys, but I think I’m pretty much about average.”
“Really, I know a guy has to get hard to go in a girl and make her pregnant, but how does such a thing fit in me. I mean, your thing feels like it’s about five times bigger than a tampon, which is about all that seems to fit in there.”
“Well, you have to know that your part is very stretchable. After all, that’s how the baby comes out, and no guy is anywhere near as big as a baby’s head.”
“O.K., now I get that. So, how does it go back to being soft? Do you have to actually do it to me for it to be emptied?”
I now wondered if Mildred was one of those students whose parents kept her from having to take sex-ed classes at school, because she clearly seemed uninformed about basic male and female sexual physiology. So where do I begin?
Taking a deep breath, I said, “It’s only filled with blood, not the sperm that would come out to make you pregnant. The blood stays in there as long as I am feeling aroused, such as now lying here next to a cute girl with nothing on above her waist. Guys can become aroused looking at sexy photos, or any number of other triggers. Some guys, though, claim to be able to decide whether to get hard. I don’t really believe that, but maybe they really can. Anyway, I’m not one of them.”
“So ,it will just go down on its own without your having to do anything?”
“Well, as long as we’re lying here like this, it will stay hard. But if it had stopped raining and we were getting ready to pack up and leave, it would slowly soften back to normal.”
“I didn’t really understand it, but now I remember overhearing some girls at school saying they had to give their boyfriends, what did they say, ‘hand jobs’ to get them to go down. Does that make it happen faster?”
“Yes, that would make it happen faster, but it isn’t the only way.”
“I guess now I know more about what those girls were talking about. I also heard the same girls giggling as they speculated about how often their boyfriends did it to themselves. Have you ever done that?”
In this somewhat charged atmosphere, my answer to that question, that I initially regretted, seemed way too revealing. But in the end my answer significantly accelerated our budding relationship. I replied, “The same question my sister asked me just yesterday.”
“What?, why would your sister ask you that?”
I then provided a somewhat edited revue of my sister stripping down and my embarrassing reaction, reminding Mildred that I said, unlike some guys, I had no control over my arousal. I said this was especially true seeing a totally naked female for the first time – even though she was my sister. In my telling of the story, I tried to make it seem almost as though I was the hapless ‘victim’ of my sister’s ‘aggression’, but that I ultimately satisfied her desire to see a man come. While I made some mention of my sister’s advice on how to touch a woman’s breasts, I chose not to discuss that afternoon’s activities.
“Wow, now you have me curious. Could you show me what you showed your sister?”
“Really, you actually want to watch that?”
“Yes, you’ve gotten to see my breasts, so I guess it’s only fair that I at least see what’s down there. But I would really like it if you would show me what you showed your sister.”
“O.K., but yesterday I did it myself, because having my sister do it would have been incest (remember, I left out the details of the afternoon session), but now you could do it for me.”
“But I don’t know how,” she protested.
“Don’t worry, it won’t be hard, especially how aroused I am right now, between lying with you and talking about what I did with my sister.”
“O.K., but you’ll have to tell me what to do”
With that, I pushed my shorts down toward my knees, and my fully erect member sprang free, eliciting a gasp from Mildred.
“It really is as big as it felt when my leg landed on it. Now, what am I supposed to do?”
“Just wrap your hand around it just below the head, and start moving it up and down. I’ll let you know how hard you need to hold it.” With that, Mildred lost any inhibition she might have had and very gently wrapped her hand where I had directed. “You can squeeze a little harder, then start moving”. As was he case when my sister did me, it felt so much better than when I did it myself.
I would like to think that I lasted three or four minutes, but it was likely less than two before I felt the familiar stirring and asked Mildred to speed up a bit. Soon, I was asking for a bit more speed as I erupted on my bare chest. The first spurt actually hit my chin, and four of five more spurts had my chest pretty well covered. “O.K., you can stop now, but thanks, that was wonderful.”
Mildred was momentarily speechless as she watched the spectacle, but finally she just said, “Oh, I had no idea how that worked. Does all that come out every time?” “No,” I replied, just when I have some good help.”
I then was able to reach over and grab my still very damp t-shirt and clean off my chest.
“Seems like you had quite the session with your sister if she got to watch all that. Did you do anything else?” “No”, I lied, “but she did mention that in addition to their breasts, girls like to have the inside of their thighs gently rubbed.” I then asked, “Do you want me to see if she’s right about that?” But still being careful not to push things too fast, I quickly added, “Or is a little attention to your breasts enough for now?
“A little attention??” she said, “I thought that has been quite a lot, especially for the first time, but sure, your sister seems to know a lot more about girls and boys than I have been allowed to learn up to this point.”
Mildred then parted her legs just enough that I could start gently massaging her thighs, carefully staying several inches below her panties.
“Oh, was your sister ever right,” she moaned, “but now you’ve got me peeing in my pants this feels so good.”
“I doubt that’s pee,” I said, “I would be pretty sure that your ‘girl juice.’ It’s what girls produce when they are aroused to make their insides slippery in case….” Here I tailed off not knowing exactly how I should express my references to various sensitive body parts and their interactions, and I certainly wasn’t going say something as crude as, ‘get fucked’.
“How can you be sure?” she asked. “It sure feels like pee.” And then, abandoning all caution, I reached through the leg hole of the pantie, took a swipe of the juice off her slippery little slit, and brought it up to her nose. “Sure doesn’t smell like pee.”
You’re right, now I’ve learned something else new. What an education I’ve received in the past 24 hours, and that includes that your little swipe down there that actually felt pretty good.”
“I can do it again if you want, but you can tell me to stop anytime.”
“Yes, let’s just see what else my mother never told me about boy/girl interactions.”
And with that I went back in through her leg hole, but her panties were loose enough that I had no trouble rubbing up and down her now soaking wet mound. After eliciting some very satisfied moans, I slid up a little higher and managed to locate her now engorged little clit. Touching it lightly, I heard the biggest sigh yet, but went back down to and made just the most tentative probing between her outer lips. Continuing to hear sounds of approval, I moved back up and this time gave her clit a bit more attention.
“Oh, that’s the best, keep doing that,” she cried. I didn’t need any more encouragement, and managed to keep one finger on her clit while the others went back down along her slit.
“Oh, oh, I don’t know what’s happening. It feels like a giant spring is coiling up inside me down there. What’s happening teacher?”
“It sounds like you are getting close to your first orgasm. When I shot my stuff all over my chest, that was my orgasm, but girls have orgasms too, and some think they are even more intense than guys.”
“So what am I supposed to do when I have an orgasm?”
“You don’t have to do anything. Just relax and enjoy the sensations as they ripple through your body. I’ll keep doing this until you come down from your high or whenever you tell me to.”
“Right now, I can’t imagine ever wanting you to stop, but Oh, Oh, I’m feeling like I can hardly breathe, my body wants to shake all over, and I can’t believe …..” Her words tailed off to a series of loud sighs and small cries as she rode through her first-ever orgasm. It had to have been the better part of a minute before she told me to stop. I then gave her an intense hug that she reciprocated, and I was very pleased to have been the one who gave her a first orgasm.
Once her breathing returned to normal, she released the hug, and all she could say, was, “Thank you, that was amazing.”
“Glad you enjoyed it, and glad I could further your education.”
“My mother certainly never told me about that part of being intimate with a boy. I don’t know whether it was because she didn’t want me to think sex could be fun, or maybe it’s because she’d never had one herself. The way she talked about sex – yes, I was taught the ‘facts of life’ by her – she made it seem that it was just something you had to do, first to have children, and second to do it occasionally to keep your husband from taking up with someone else. And I think she got that from her mother.”
Now, I realized that I still hadn’t pulled my pants back up, and I was sporting another full erection after my ministrations to Mildred. She quickly noticed that and asked how often I was able to get hard and how long before I could have another orgasm. I replied that I had never done it this short of a time, but that I felt perfectly ready – especially if I had some ‘skilled’ help.
“Really, you now think I am ‘skilled’ help? Thanks, would you like me to double my experience in such things?
“Sure would, but maybe we should eat some lunch and be ready to leave. The rain seems to be slowing down, and we shouldn’t get home too late, or your mother might wonder what’s been going on. “Oh, she’ll wonder no matter what,” she replied, “but o.k. maybe you’re right.”
So, I pulled up my shorts, and I guess my moment of being ‘responsible’ helped me deflate. Mildred felt her shirt next to the space heater and, finding it still damp, elected to remain topless while we ate. Not surprisingly, lunch-time conversation was all about what we had just done and many other questions about sex that had arisen because of our actions. For one thing, Mildred wanted to know if girls could give themselves orgasms just like boys. I said ‘of course’ and introduced her to the slang terms “jack off” and “jill”.
Finally, I asked her if she had ever been called “Milllie” instead of “Mildred”. It seems in your new, ‘liberated’ state that you’d like a less formal name to go with it.
She replied, “When I was in sixth grade, I think, I tried changing, but my mother would have none of it. She said I was named after her favorite aunt and that aunt went by “Mildred” to the day she died. You need to maintain that family tradition.”
“Oh, I guess you couldn’t easily get around that, could you?”
“No, but you’ve got me thinking. Maybe I’ll go off to camp as “Mildred” and come back as “Millie.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
So, with that conversation over, I started moving toward leaving when there was an unexpected clap of thunder, seemingly right over our heads.
“Remember the rule on the athletic fields”, she said, “thirty minutes inside after the last clap before it’s safe to go back outside. And just think what we can do in 30 minutes,” she said with a slightly mischievous grin.
With that, we were back on the day bed kissing deeply and pressing our bodies together until I was able to create enough space to resume stroking her beautiful firm breasts with my left hand. She immediately started lightly sighing and soon reached over to feel my hardness through my shorts. I then freed up my right hand and dove straight down to begin massaging her pussy, going right into her shorts from above. Soon, she began to push my shorts down so that she could grab my naked member and start stroking like she had been doing it forever. I would have pushed her shorts down, but unless I got them all the way off, I couldn’t spread her legs enough to make a tentative foray with my finger up into her again soaking hole. That motion produced a big sigh, and I kept my little finger massaging the inside of her pussy while I stretched my thumb up to tease her clit.
Meanwhile, her handiwork was having its intended effect on me and I began to feel that I was getting close, but still had some ‘margin’ before I came. “How close are you to another orgasm?” I asked. “Pretty close” she said through her sighs. “Good, just keep doing what you are doing, and when you are about to go over the edge, I’ll have you speed up.” I received no reply and just kept on with my actions until, without being asked, Mildred sped up as did I. Suddenly, we were both coming with another large load coating my chest, and the old day bed squeaking loudly as Mildred thrashed even more wildly than with her first orgasm.
We lay there hugging and without speaking for a few moments before Mildred said, “Now that I knew what to expect, I could even more fully enjoy the sensations. Thank you.” “You’re welcome, and I loved that we were able to give ourselves simultaneous ones. That made it even better.”
Now it was sunny outside and definitely time to leave. My shirt was still hopelessly wet, especially with the two loads it had cleaned up, so I rinsed it in the sink and put on the light windbreaker I had in my pack. Mildred’s shirt was still not very dry, and when she put it on it clung to her body, and her nipples immediately became erect with the cold. “I hate to suggest it,” I said, “but you better wear your bra for the way back. It’s cooler now and mostly downhill, so you won’t be too hot. And your very obvious nipples will make almost any male driver we might encounter turn his head for a longer look, and we don’t want to be the cause of any accidents.” Mildred looked down and saw that I was right. “O.K., if you say so, I’ll put it on”, and she did.
As we reached the public road, I noticed a familiar car parked there – it was her mother. Having Mildred put her bra on was my second lucky ‘good call’ in two days, as who knows what fury her very visible nipples would have unleashed. Her mother said she came up here to “rescue” us from the severe storm. She said she looked for the cabin where we might be, but couldn’t find it. It was thus fortunate that Uncle Fred was my mother’s brother, so the last name was different, and our bicycles were on a porch not visible from the road.
There was quite the exchange between Mildred and her mother with her mother insisting that she accept the ride because her shirt was wet and she needed to start packing for going off to camp the next day. Mildred countered that she wasn’t cold and, having packed to go to that camp many times before, she didn’t need a lot of time to pack. Mildred’s mother briefly scowled, but ended her harangue as Mildred just said, “It was a hard ride uphill and against the wind, now I want to enjoy the ride back.” And with that she got on her bike and started down the hill. All I could do was shrug and follow.
At the gas station where we met, we parted company with a quick hug, a promise to stay in touch while she was at camp, and to see each other as soon as she returned.
How Mildred Became Millie Chapter 4 – Now it gets weird
The next day, Mildred had to leave pretty early as it was nearly a four-hour drive to the camp. I therefore didn’t feel it was appropriate go wave good-bye – especially since I knew that would be all I was able to do. I then set about doing some reading when the phone rang. I answered, and it was Mildred’s mother who said, “Can you come over? We need to talk.”
That wasn’t the phone call I wanted to receive, but I figured I might not be allowed to see Mildred again unless I did go over and talk. So, I pedaled on over, and didn’t have to knock on the door as I was greeted as soon as I mounted the front steps. To my surprise, Mildred’s mother was just wearing slippers and a housecoat even though it was already 10 in the morning. I had pegged her for someone who woke up early, dressed, ate, and went right to work. Anyway, I would soon learn the reason for her dress.
“I asked you to come over because I want to ask you just exactly what you have been doing to my daughter. And I expect you to be honest because I know where your hand was when her father and I drove in the driveway that night.”
Oh boy, I thought. What else does she know and what did Mildred tell her?
Taking a deep breath, I started in with what I hoped would not cause the end of our relationship. “Mrs. Miller, first of all, if you are worrying that we have been having sexual intercourse, I can assure you we absolutely haven’t. We did some kissing here after the movie and some more along with more touching while we waited out the storm.”
“Well, I could tell that she liked what you were doing to her. When I came into the house that night after watching you feel her breast, I was ready to summarily throw you out, but then I saw that she looked happier than I had seen her look in a long time. So, I knew she didn’t hate what you were doing at all. I also noted that both of your clothes looked just as they should, so it seemed what I had seen was the most of it.”
“Thank you for seeing it that way, Mrs. Miller. I genuinely enjoy her company and want to keep seeing her.”
“Now, when you two came down from the cabin, Mildred was practically glowing with happiness, so now I want to know what you did to her up there. You said that you would just ride to the cabin and not go in, but maybe the rain changed that?”
“Yes, I managed to find a key under the cabin, and yes, we went in for the, I guess, the 90 minutes or so when the storm was raging, plus the 30 minutes after the last, loud clap of thunder.”
Mrs. Miller was staring intently at me now, and I wondered if she had indeed found the cabin and had been peering in the window the whole time. Arguing against that horror was the fact that she looked totally dry when we reached her car. If she had been peering in the window she would have been soaked. So, I felt I could give an edited version of events inside.
“While we waited out the storm, we did engage in some pretty heavy kissing and touching. She truly enjoyed my attentions to her breasts. Since I just had thin shorts on, she noticed that I had an erection, and I answered a few questions about the male anatomy.”
“Giving my daughter sex-ed, I see. Was part of her education to touch it?”
“Yes, that did happen.”
“And did she reciprocate by letting you touch her between the legs?”
Oh boy, this interrogation was getting pretty intense, and I’ve never been a really good liar, so I guessed I had to admit to that part.
Yes, I touched her between the legs, and yes, she liked that as well, but her shorts never came off.”
“O.K. final big question, and again I expect honesty. Did you give her an orgasm?”
I guess I should have figured this was where this interrogation was heading, so I answered, “Yes, the whole truth is that I gave her an orgasm and she in turn gave me one. Now, does that mean you’ll never let me see her again?”
“No, it doesn’t because I could see that you made her very happy, but I have never been that happy having sex with my husband. It has always seemed like a ‘wifely chore’ with no real benefit for me. Lately, however, some of my girlfriends told me that I should start reading the new “Cosmopolitan” magazine that talks about various ways both partners can enjoy the experience equally. That got me thinking, and then I saw that my daughter was truly enjoying whatever sexual contact she was having with you. So, the real reason I asked you to come over was to find out if my daughter had an orgasm with you. Now that I know, I want you to give me one, so maybe I can belatedly teach my husband how to make things more mutual.”
That was a lot to absorb, and I wondered what came next. But I didn’t have to wonder very long as Mrs. Miller opened up her housecoat and revealed that she had nothing on underneath. She was still a year or so shy of 40, and had kept herself in good shape. A little sag to her probably C-cup breasts, and only a slight bulge at the stomach above a full bush of pubic hair. All of a sudden, she looked like an MILF. I’m sure my eyes indicated total shock at this revelation, but I quickly recovered and asked her where she would like the demonstration.
With that, she led me up the stairs to the master bedroom, took off the housecoat, and lay down stark naked. I took a deep breath and explained that she, like Mildred, would be benefitting from a few pointers my older sister had given me about how to treat girls. So, I started with some gentle stroking on her breasts, and sure enough, after three passes up to her nipples they were good and hard.
“Oh, my husband never did it so my nipples were hard, but from now on he will.”
” I will continue with this for a few more minutes, and then move down below, if that’s alright Mrs. Miller.”
“That’s good, but I think at this point it should be “Lorraine”, or even the “Lori” I was as a little girl.”
“I like Lori, and your daughter may return from camp calling herself “Millie.”
“Oh fine, I really want her to be happy, and I guess I should have let her out from under long before. Now, show me what you can do down lower.”
So, I moved one hand down between her legs, which she helpfully spread. I could tell that she was beginning to get wet, and asked her if she had ever felt herself getting wet before having sex. She, Lori, replied that she hadn’t ever remembered that, and that the penetration was always somewhat painful at first.
“That was one of my sister’s points that I should never go into a girl until she is well lubricated. And while I didn’t go into Millie, I did get her quite wet, something that was new to her as well. In fact, at first she thought she had peed in her pants.” Oh, maybe I didn’t need to add that last detail, but who knew what the rules were in this bizarre situation I had found myself in.
So, I rubbed up and down her slit until it was good and wet, and then I probed tentatively into her hole, first with one finger, then with two. “How does that feel, Lori?” “Mmmm great, keep going she replied”
I made a few more thrusts and then kept one finger inside while I stretched my thumb up toward her clit. “I’m about to hit the most sensitive spot, so be prepared,” I said as I found and started tweaking her little nub.
“Oh my God,” she cried, “this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. Keep going, keep ah, ah, ah, …” And with that, she started to thrash about on the bed while I did my best to maintain contact. Slowly she came down from her orgasm, and I gave her the kind of hug I felt she needed.
With that, she said, “I don’t feel at all finished. For the first time in my life the only thing I want is a penis inside me. You’ve got to do me so I can experience everything I now realize is wonderful about sex. You look hesitant. Don’t worry, I had my tubes tied after I had Mildred, so you won’t get me pregnant. And if you do me, I won’t object to your making my daughter equally happy.
Well, how could I turn that offer down – the part about Millie that is. But if that’s what it takes, I guess I’m game. So off came my shirt and shorts, and I climbed in on top of Lori. Her legs were spread wide as I maneuvered my member to the wanting hole. This being truly my first time, I had two misses before finding where I needed to go, but then the heavenly feeling as I slid up and down in her warm, wet channel. I wasn’t sure whether I would be able to stimulate her to another orgasm, but I raised up on my arms and managed to get one of her breasts in my mouth. That elicited a loud moan, so I knew it was helping move things along. I momentarily took my mouth off her breast to ask how close she was to a second orgasm. I was told, ‘close’, but to put my mouth back on her nipple. I just said, “I will, just let me know when you are really close, and I’ll speed up so we come together.”
A minute or so later, I got the word to speed up, and we soon came to wonderfully simultaneous orgasms followed by a big hug.
We lay there silently for a while, then I said, “I wish you luck teaching your husband, but he would be a total fool if he doesn’t take your teachings to heart. Just one thing, though, I hope I don’t get a call from him wanting to know what I had been doing to you. If I did, I think I might figure that was a good time to get out of town. I hope you can convince him you learned this from a magazine. Also, I trust that Millie will never know of this incident.”
“Don’t worry on both counts, I’ll make sure my husband never calls you to ask what you are doing to Mildred, er, Millie.”
“Deal,” I said. Then I got dressed, said ‘good bye and good luck’, and headed on toward home. On the way home, I detoured for some lunch at a fast food outlet, not because I was all that hungry, and I didn’t particularly like fast food anyway, but I figured I needed some extra time to collect myself after the past intense few hours.
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