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The early-morning trip would have been a lot easier with earplugs, but Mrs. Prentice, whose daughter Patricia was a beauty, seemed to be used to the clamor. I found their little cottage and they piled out squealing while I unloaded their stuff and was ready to head back home when the over-weight chaperone tripped on the back steps, fell awkwardly, broke her ankle and might have fractured her hip as well as her wrist. The ambulance came quickly and they hauled her off and an hour later she had been helicoptered back home for treatment. I was told to stay and chaperone and be cooperative. I got a cheap air mattress, some plastic screening, borrowed one of the mother’s blankets and decided to sleep in the back of the big SUV. The girls, including Patricia, headed for the beach and I bought some cheap trunks and followed, giving my eyes and brain a vacation meal of very young, barely ripe and almost bare female flesh. This year’s bikinis are even smaller than last year’s and sit even. I bleakly smiled at him. He offered to massage my back if I wished. Since it was Saturday, he didn’t have job. Without any intimation he picked me up in both his strong hands and carried me to his bedroom and laid me on his king size mattress. He got a tube of pain relieving balm and climbed on the bed next to me and ordered me to turn my back to him.Then he sensuously brushed away my hairs from my back, squeezed a little of the balm onto his palm and without any prior warning raised my tea shirt up till he saw my bra clip. I bit my lower lips when his hand contacted my skin with the cold cream in his hand. He spread it on my back and started massaging it all around my back with both his palms. I imagined how excited he is. Every time he moved his hands on my back, my bra string came in his way. May be because of the new found boldness, he expertly pinched my bra clip off and the elastics sprang away from my body. I didn’t protest. Now his hands moved on my full back without any.
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