With Mom and Aunt Clara and Cousin Jeff off at the flower show, Jamie had the house to herself. She wouldn’t have minded going, she liked flowers, but she had to work her afternoon shift at the hardware store, once owned by her father.

“Make up Clara’s bed before you head out, sweetie,” her mom had whispered just as they were leaving. Jamie half snorted, for it was her bed—she was relegated to the uncomfortable cot in the attic. At least with Clara and her son gone, she could have a proper shower in the main bathroom. Maybe make the bed first, Jamie decided.

She was nearly finished with the task, no big deal, when she discovered it, pale blue and smooth and bold.

She knew what it was. She wasn’t afraid to touch it. To sniff it. No sign of use, but when she twisted it on there was nothing. Or could it be that she’d twisted if off? In any case, nothing. Maybe dead batteries. Maybe Aunt Clara had used it until she’d exhausted herself and then left it running until it expired. Briefly, she wondered if there were any fresh batteries to be had in the house. Plenty at the hardware store. What a thought! It’s not as if she planned to use it; she wouldn’t even if ...

But the thought of Aunt Clara in orgasm sent a shiver through her, and it wasn’t disgust, not exactly. She tried to picture Aunt Clara in the throes. She’d never seen anyone that way before. Not that she hadn’t had more than a few of her own throes. And with the house to herself, and the way she was suddenly feeling, and it was, after all, her own bed ... But rather than mess it up and have to make it again, she stashed the blue thing behind a pillow and sank to the floor, her hand almost immediately going to where it was needed.

Touching herself, she thought of her aunt, but those thoughts became mixed with thoughts of her mom, and then of her mom and Aunt Clara watching her, and at first that impeded her arousal, but then she found herself not just amused at the concept but relishing it, showing her aunt and mom how she did it. “See, just like this, and then like this, and then...”

She came close a few times. She was wet enough that her fingers made those slight, slick, slapping sounds against her sex's skin. Her whimpers may have masked the sound of the door opening.

“Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah,” she growled. “Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh,” she huffed, climax but a handful of touches away.

She heard a gasping moan that wasn’t hers. She bolted to her feet.

“Jeff? What are you doing here?” She backed onto the bed, attempting to draw the covers over herself, but they were trapped beneath her.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Jeff started. “I, uh...”

His pants were still bowed by the press of his boner, a dark wet spot at the apex.

“You came, didn’t you?” Jamie blurted. “You came in your pants.”

“I ... I...”

“The evidence is right there.”

“I couldn’t help it. I’d never heard a girl coming before.”

“You still haven’t,” Jamie said.

“You didn’t?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I guess I should have ... I don’t know. It’s just that you are so beautiful. And I’ve never really seen a real pussy before.”

“Right,” Jamie said. “Well, now you have.”

He stood there staring. She stared back. “But seeing isn’t everything,” she said.

“It isn’t?”

“No. Maybe you’d like to touch one? Maybe you’d like to taste one?”

Jeff blanched. “I would. I would so much. But...”

“But what?”

“I came up because Mom forgot her scarf. She said it was in her room. Your room. They’re waiting down in the car.”

“Right, her scarf,” Jamie said. “Well then you’d better hurry up and find it.”

“I really would like to touch you,” Jeff said. “And taste you. More than anything in the world.”

“I know,” Jamie said. “Me too. Maybe next time. Right now I have to finish making this bed.”

After Jeff departed with his mom’s scarf, Jamie straightened the bed, and, as long as she was already undressed, headed to the bathroom, turned on the shower, bound up her hair, and stepped under the warm spray. She was debating whether to complete her masturbation, so rudely interrupted before, when the bathroom door opened.

“What is it now?” Jamie asked Jeff. “Did your mom forget something else? Maybe batteries for her vibrator? I haven’t got any. You can frisk me.”

Jeff shook his head. “I told them I wasn’t coming.”

For a long few moments, they stared at each other, silently, no sound but the warm water splashing down. Finally, Jeff opened his mouth. “Um, is your offer about touching you and tasting you still good?”

Jamie smiled. “Still good. So get your clothes off and get on in here.”

Naked in seconds, Jeff stepped into the shower. Without hesitation, he gripped Jamie by her waist, hoisted her high, backed against the wall for balance, swung her around, and buried his face in her sex.

Locking her legs about his neck, her hand about his waist, Jamie found Jeff’s cock brushing her nose. She meant to take it into her mouth, but with Jeff’s nose nudging her asshole, his tongue plunging her cunt, and his chin pressing her clit, Jamie found it impossible to do anything but come. Jeff didn’t let up.

A trio of powerful orgasms later, Jamie finally managed to capture Jeff’s cock, and a moment later he flooded her mouth. She kept him there through six or seven strong spurts and half a dozen aftershocks, during which time, together they slid slowly down the shower wall, turned to their sides, and engaged in a sixty-nine that was more cuddle than sex. It was only when the water turned cold that they released each other.

“I should be going to work,” Jamie said, “but I think I’ll take the afternoon off in case you want to help me unmake my bed.”

“I’d like that,” Jeff said.