I wanted to kiss her lips. Tender. Moist. Soft. Pink. I waited.
“Here, let me show you something super cool.” I said, softly.
I lifted up our scrapbook, a bulky black coffee table sized book of erotic photos Guy and I had taken over the years.
“What’s that?” asked Ashley.
“This is a book of pictures Guy’s taken. He loves photography.”
I moved to sit even closer to the teen, our legs were touching and I felt the heat between us rise.
“See, this is me and my first girlfriend.” my voice trailed off as I guided Ashley's hand onto the pages. Her chipped nail polish, a soft purple accented her long, bony, fingers. I imagined those fingers on my c**t or wrapped around my husband's c**k. I smiled at the faded "X" written in Sharpie ink on Ashley's left hand, a symbol that she was old enough
