Those summers, Angie’s mother had been overseas on business, and auntie’s house was a convenient place to park her where she would not get into any trouble. She was out most evenings, leaving Angie to “play” with the other kids on the street.
The kids were a couple of years older, but Angie’s nicely developing figure gave her the look of a 15 year old, and certainly she did know what it was all about even if she had not really done anything yet.
My dad started to play with the controls, as I just scanned my eyes around the room.
After doing this, we went down to the apartment itself, and knocked on the door.A woman, I’d say in her late twenties, answered the door.We’d went to the apartment manager’s office to get the work order, and then proceeded to the apartment.When we got there, we found that there was a leak on the roof, and that it would require only a small soldering job, along with filling up the unit with more Freon.Not thinking anything about it, I put it into my pocket.
At thirteen, Angie was not very different from all the other eighth graders.
The other girls were approaching sexual maturity, some faster than others.
Certainly they were all sex conscious, with budding breasts, spreading hips, a new growth of pretty pubic curls.
Angie was invited, was excited at the prospect of being with the older kids.
Sally told her that there would be plenty of smooching and some petting, but nothing too strong.
Seemed like some of them used used “fuck” for every other word coming out of their mouths.