myrtle1

Here, it is too hot to drive with the windows down. That's how it is in the car anyways. It's me in the passenger seat, strapped in with my hands cupping my tiny breasts so that I can feel them shift up and down over the bumps, and him shifting gears like a racecar in the driver's seat. This is how the talking goes:
"What kids live at that house again?"
"There? Foster kids, except, the bad ones."
"Ohhh...delinquints?"
"Yeah, something like that, they're too younge to go to jail and they go there to try to 'reform' them"
"Oh..do you think it's coed?"
"Maybe"
"I hope so. I bet if it is they sneak into the bedrooms at night to practice sex. Secretly beneath the blankets, with thier legs all locked up and thier hands over the other ones mouth so that they don't wake anyone up."
"I hear they have glass walls or something"
"That's even better, up against the glass walls while the foster parents sleep, the idea of them sneaking sex excites me"
"Yeah, me too"
Then I roll down the window a crack to let in a little of the secret sex, try to breath it through my nostrils along with the dusty road.
"Don't let out all the cold air."
And I roll it quickly back up again.


I haven't been sleeping, so it's story time with miss Myrtle.