Please note: All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.
Please keep in mind the difference between fantasy and reality.



Jeremy - Chapter 15 - Spring Break
Part Two: Fifty Shades of J

pedo Fb
Written by Janus
Copyright 2017



Index to all chapters of the Jeremy series.

My non-Jeremy stories (Mg) can be found here.



“Where is he?” Pam demanded, barging into the Singer condo without knocking. Despite the guidance from her phone's GPS, she had still managed to get lost in the winding streets of the poorly-lit neighborhood. With each wrong turn, her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she tried to ignore the icy ball of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Now she was spinning in panicked circles as she glanced around the condo in search of Jeremy.

Apple emerged from the kitchen, her fingers knit in apprehension. “He's in the living room with Zep,” she told her.

“How much of the brownie did he eat?” Pam asked.

“All of it.” Apple led her to the kitchen counter and pointed to a hastily torn plastic wrap scattered with crumbs.

Pam's stomach lurched at the sight. Her imagination conjured several worst-case scenarios. What if the marijuana's effects somehow lasted forever? What if he had to eat through a tube for the rest of his life? What if the marijuana was a gateway to harder drugs? She imagined a heavily tattooed Jeremy passed out on a filthy floor surrounded by needles and spoons. The rational part of her brain knew these were all unlikely scenarios, but rationality was losing out to her concern for his well-being.

Hurrying to the living room, Pam skipped down the stairs two steps at a time. Rose and Becky had fallen asleep in the loveseat, both of them leaning leftward like a pair of listing ships. Jeremy and Zep, meanwhile, were engrossed in a heated game of Madden football on the PlayStation. Their faces were completely hidden by the hoods of their sweatshirts, ostensibly to better concentrate. Pam took a seat next to Jeremy but he didn't even notice her until she gently pulled his hood aside.

“Oh. Hey.” His eyes flickered at her in a brief acknowledgment. “You're back.”

“Yeah, I forgot something.” Pam peered at his eyes. He seemed perfectly alert. Judging from the way he handled the game controller, his motor coordination wasn't impaired either.

“Nice,” Jeremy answered. Was he in his monosyllabic video game mode? Or was it the marijuana at work? Pam wished they could have a longer conversation so she could determine the effects of the brownie. Deprived of spoken communication, she studied his gameplay instead. After much pleading on his part, Pam had reluctantly begun playing video games with him a few months ago and was now well-versed in the intricacies.

“You missed Julio Jones on a deep route on that last play,” she told him.

“I did?”

“Yep. He was wide open.”

“Hey, no fair helping,” Zep protested.

As the game continued, Pam noticed that Jeremy was making uncharacteristic mistakes. The score had been tied when she was first arrived but Zep was steadily pulling ahead. While they played, Pam Googled “kids marijuana symptoms” on her phone. The first result was a news story in which a nine year old boy accidentally ingested some marijuana in candy form. His parents, not knowing what had happened, took him to a hospital where a doctor diagnosed it as a psychotic breakdown. No one thought to test the boy for marijuana.

She had a brief vision of calling William and Kate to the hospital. Nauseated, Pam continued reading. The article ended with a warning about marijuana's deleterious effect on the developing brains of young children. By the time she returned the phone to her pocket, Pam's face was pale with worry.

“Game over,” Zep announced. He slapped Jeremy on the back. “45-14. Better luck next time, bud.”

“I want a rematch,” Jeremy said “I'm thirsty though. Is there any punch left?” Standing up, he took three steps and promptly fell over, landing clumsily on a footstool.

“Jeremy!” Pam leapt from the couch. “Are you all right?”

Crouching next to him, she helped him untangle his limbs. Upon landing, his leg had banged the coffee table. Rubbing his shin, he stumbled to an upright position. “I'm fine. I just got dizzy for a second.” He took some tentative steps forward. Pam, not daring to let go, still held him by the shoulders but he brushed her away. “I got this,” he assured her.

He moved in baby steps, as if he were learning to walk. Pam watched as he began pacing back and forth in the living room. He would start near the front door, stride across the room to the staircase, then turn around. After four circuits, his pace had quickened to the point where he was nearly jogging. Pam exchanged a worried look with Apple and Zep.

“What are you doing?” she casually asked.

“I'm breaking through the space-time continuum,” Jeremy informed them. He was fluttering like a hummingbird now and showed no signs of stopping. “If I can move fast enough, time will lose its hold on me. And then I'll exist only in a spatial sense.”

“Oh-kay,” Pam said. A small part of her had hoped that Apple was wrong, that Jeremy had merely consumed a normal brownie. So much for that thought. “Let's slow down before you hurt yourself,” she advised.

Instead Jeremy dodged her grasp and performed a baseball slide, his momentum carrying him a solid ten feet across the carpet. Bouncing to his feet, Jeremy was ready to do it again when Pam finally managed to grab him. With Zep's assistance, she subdued him into a chair. His elbow was scraped a bright red from carpet burn. Pam winced as a trickle of blood sprung from the raw skin.

“I'll find a first-aid kit,” Apple said, dashing from the room.

“I don't need one,” Jeremy called after her. “I just need to manipulate time, go into the future when it's healed, then come back right as rain.” He tried to stand up but Pam stopped him.

“Can you calm down?” she pleaded. “Try sitting still. Just for a moment.”

“I feel like I'm going to throw up when I sit still,” he complained.

That was a mess she didn't need at the moment. Pam carefully took her hands away. “Just don't start running around again,” she warned.

“I won't,” he promised. Pam remained wary as he rose to his feet. “I'll read a book. That's allowed, right?” Approaching the bookcase, he reached for a volume on the very top shelf. When he pulled it off the shelf, however, a bookend came tumbling down, landing on his head with an audible crack that made him stagger backward.

“Jeremy!” Pam caught him and they collapsed onto the couch together. She wrapped an arm around his chest to hold him still as she examined his head. Her fingers detected a light swelling where he had been bonked. The injury tally was now an unsightly purplish bruise on his shin, one scraped elbow, and an egg-like bump on his head. At this rate, a hospital trip seemed inevitable.

“Woo, now I feel a different kind of dizzy,” he mumbled.

Apple returned with a first-aid kit. Pam ripped open a packet of disinfecting alcoholic wipes. “This might sting a little bit,” she warned. But instead of howling in pain and generally making a scene (his usual response when she cleaned the slightest wound), Jeremy sat as quietly as a choirboy at church. That probably wasn't a good sign.

“I don't see why you're going to all this trouble,” Jeremy remarked as Apple applied a band-aid. “I'm due for a cybernetic arm upgrade anyway. They're practically paying you to get one these days.”

Ignoring him, Pam addressed Apple. “What time does your mom and his dad usually come home? Please tell me it's very late at night.”

“It depends,” Apple said. “Sometimes early, like around 9 o'clock. But sometimes later. I told them everyone is sleeping over tonight, so they might come home early.”

Jeremy placed two fingers to his temple. “Just a second. My dad and I have a telepathic link so I'll just read his mind. That is, if his tele-stasis receiver isn't turned off.”

He just wouldn't shut up. Pam knew there was no way he could be seen in this state by his dad. Taking him home was an option, but then they would have to answer to Kate. “I think you're ready for bed,” Pam said briskly. Grabbing him by the arms, she began hauling the reluctant boy in the general direction of the stairs. “Let's go.”

“I'm not tired,” he protested. “I want to stay down here with Apple and Zep. And Rose and Becky too.”

Rose and Becky were somehow sleeping through this entire racket. If Pam could just get him to bed, he would most certainly sleep off the marijuana. “Everyone is going to bed now,” Pam informed him. “Come on. You can lie down. Relax. The dizziness will go away. Doesn't that sound nice?”

“No.” Jeremy struggled to free himself from her grasp.

Thinking quickly, Pam said, “I have a present for you. But I can only give it you if you're in a dream-state. So let's go to bed.”

“Ooh, dream-state presents are the best.” Jeremy promptly brightened and began walking on his own power. They were halfway up the stairs when Jeremy turned to address Apple and Zep. “If I see you in my dreams,” he called, “be sure to save me some snacks. I want something orange. But just make sure it's not an orange.” Apple and Zep did their best not to laugh, but Pam could only think of what a long night it was going to be.

“I feel itchy all over,” Jeremy told her as they climbed the stairs.

“I'll scratch your back in bed,” Pam promised.

“No, I mean I'm itchy EVERYWHERE.” He began pulling off his sweatshirt in mid-stride. Pam had to steady him as he came close to losing his balance several times. He discarded his sweatshirt on the stairs and continued walking. What she hadn't expected was for him to continue undressing. By the time they reached the third floor, Jeremy was wearing only his underwear while Pam carried an armful of his clothes.

“That feels so much better,” he sighed, opening the bedroom door. The guestroom was the only chamber on the third floor. The room housed a matching furniture set of bed, desk, and night table, each item sharing the same intricate design of metal latticework. A plush armchair and and several potted plants rounded out the furnishings

Out of habit, Pam began folding his clothes while Jeremy opened a window. “Fresh air feels good too,” he told her. It wasn't until he stuck his head out the window that Pam realized there wasn't a screen.

“Hey!” She grabbed him by the waistband of his underwear. “Let's not lean out too far from this third story window.” Pam closed it.

“Can we go outside and race?” Jeremy asked. “I bet I could beat you.”

Pam knew he could win a footrace even if sober. Thanks to the energizing sativa, he probably would lap her twice without even breaking into a sweat. “Just lie down for a bit,” she urged, guiding him to the bed. “Relax. Deep breaths.” To her surprise, Jeremy did as she directed. She watched as he closed his eyes. His skinny chest rose and fell with even breaths.

“Whew,” Pam said. She had scarcely returned to folding his clothes when she heard a thumping noise. Turning, she found that, in the ten seconds out her attention, Jeremy had snuck from bed and was now doing pull-ups on the closet rod. His head thumped against the overhead shelf with each repetition.

Dashing across the room, she yanked him out of the closet and back toward the bed. He resisted every inch of the way. Forcing him to sit down, she checked the bump on his head. Previously egg-sized, it had now swelled to avocado proportions.

“But I have so much energy!” he pleaded. “Can I go see what Apple and Zep are doing? I bet they would want to race.”

Crossing her arms, she stared at him in consternation. Calming him down was clearly impossible. But she couldn't stand watch over him all night. Straitjackets were made for times like this. He was definitely going to hurt himself unless she could figure out a way to restrain him.

Pam held a finger to her lips. “Shhh!” she whispered. “Did you hear that?”

Jeremy froze in place. “Hear what?”

On the desk was a rock, about the size of a plum, that functioned as a paperweight. Pam picked it up and held it to her ear. “This rock is talking to me.”

“No way!”

“Quiet,” Pam told him. “I can't hear the rock.” She pretended to concentrate as she held it closer to her ear.

“I want to try,” Jeremy insisted. Pam handed him the rock. He barely had it to his ear for a second before he looked at Pam in surprise. “Gosh. It really is talking!”

Pam began backing out of the room. “You listen to it and try to remember everything it's saying, okay? I'll be right back.” Jeremy nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

Knowing the rock was merely a temporary distraction, Pam trotted down the stairs toward the kitchen. In the living room, the lights were now turned low but she caught a glimpse of Zep and Apple making out on the couch. “Ahem, just getting a glass of water,” Pam announced. But instead of water, she swiped the handcuffs from Apple's stack of presents and tiptoed away. The subterfuge probably wasn't necessary. Neither of the teenagers acknowledged her presence anyway.

Running up the stairs in record time, she re-entered the room to find Jeremy once again opening the window. “There you are!” he said brightly. “I was going to leave you a note. The rock said there's treasure buried in the woods out back. First we have to find a big oak tree with a beagle under it. The dog will howl three times and then lead us straight to where the gold is hidden.” Wearing only his underwear, he actually swung a leg through the open window.

“Ah ah ah!” Pam cried, grabbing him by the shoulder. She hauled him back to bed, sat him down, and snapped a handcuff around his wrist. It wasn't until she secured the other handcuff to the railing of the headboard that Pam was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

“What's this for?” Jeremy asked, examining his cuffed wrist.

“We're playing a new game,” Pam announced. “Cops and Robbers. I'm the cop.” Remembering what happened last time he was handcuffed, she wondered how to safeguard the key. Her dress didn't have pockets so she searched his shorts instead. For whatever reason, he had one of her elastic ponytail holders in his pocket, along with a golf pencil and an empty tin of mints. She looped the key in the elastic band and slid the whole thing onto her wrist. Perfect.

“Okay,” Jeremy replied, suddenly agreeable. He lay down on the bed, one arm extended over his head to accommodate the restraint around his wrist. “It feels weird to be still.”

“What do you mean?” Pam asked. Having Jeremy handcuffed to the bed while wearing only his underwear was reminiscent of the random daytime fantasies that entertained her while he was away at school. Unfortunately, Pam was so frazzled that Call of Duty was the last thing on her mind. Instead, she fussed with his sheets and adjusted the hair that clung to his damp skin.

“It feels like I'm... floating away,” Jeremy said through half-closed eyes.

Pam was alarmed to see a green pallor overtaking his usually fair face. Not sure what to do, she placed a hand to his forehead to check his temperature. “Do you need to throw up?” she asked worriedly.

“No. Just... really... dizzy...” His words were coming out slower and slower. Pam bent over and placed her ear against his chest, listening for his heartbeat. Possessing no medical training, all she could determine was that it sounded fast. Taking his free hand, she placed two fingers on his wrist to measure his pulse. All the while, Jeremy remained silent though his head would roll from side to side.

“Let me get you a glass of water,” Pam told him. Checking his pulse told her nothing, but she could see a thin sheen of perspiration forming on his body. The moment she stood, however, Jeremy lurched into a sitting position.

“No, don't go!” he cried. He attempted to grab her but, having forgotten his handcuffed wrist, was rudely yanked toward the headboard.

The fearful desperation in his voice awakened a maternal instinct within Pam. “Oh sweetie, it's okay!” She hurried back to the bed. The moment she reclined next to his crumpled body, Jeremy nestled against her as if an invisible magnetic field had summoned him. His cuffed arm limited range so Pam scooted closer.

“I'm right here,” she soothed. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Jeremy moaned pitifully. “I'm dying.”

“Shhh, don't say that,” she consoled. “You're fine. You're just... coming down with something.” Half-cradling him, Pam rocked him like a baby. His fast breathing worried her.

Jeremy stiffened in her arms. “Where's Pam?” he said, agitated. “I need Pam.”

“Look, I'm here,” she told him. “Pam's right here. See?” He glanced at her briefly but his eyes seemed to see right through her. She continued caressing and shushing him. Without thinking, her fingers accidentally grazed a sensitive area near his ribs that, without fail, always made him chuckle. Tonight, however, touching his ticklish spot garnered absolutely no reaction from him. Her worrying multiplied exponentially with this discovery.

How could she get through to him? Working on instinct, Pam flipped over his hand so his palm faced up, then gently ran a finger along his forearm. It required several circuits between his wrist and elbow before Jeremy grew calm. Pam began breathing easier too.

“Does that feel better?” she asked. The underside of his forearm felt wonderfully soft as her fingers stroked his creamy skin.

“Yes, but...” he kicked away the sheets covering his lower body. “Too hot.” He wriggled on the mattress until his underwear began riding down his skinny hips. “Help me take these off,” he pleaded.

The bedroom door was still ajar by several inches. Jeremy still clung to her, afraid that she would leave, so Pam was forced to stretch her leg and poke the door closed with her toes. Now having at least a semblance of privacy, she began pulling off his underpants with a single hand. It wasn't exactly difficult, but it required several stages of yanking and tugging as she removed the underwear an inch at a time. Once he felt the slackened waistband around his ankles, Jeremy triumphantly kicked his underwear across the room.

“Ahh,” he sighed, relishing the feel of his bare skin against the sheets.

Gazing at his naked form, Pam resisted the urge to sigh as well. Though not erect, his penis flopped playfully against his smooth skin. His round scrotum, pinker than usual, was just begging to be touched. “Want a tummy rub?” Pam offered, reluctantly compromising. Stretching out next to him, she propped her head up with one hand while the other began drawing circles on his exposed belly.

“That feels nice,” Jeremy said, his eyes closed.

Pam kissed his forehead. “Just try to calm down, okay?” Nevertheless, she kept one eye on his midsection. If things were normal and they had been at home while she rubbed his tummy, naked, Jeremy would undoubtedly have a hard-on by now. Here though, high as a kite, every part of him remained completely relaxed. Even his feet had stopped fidgeting and his handcuffed arm dangled limply. Pam cursed Zep's stupid brownie. Perhaps the war on drugs wasn't as pointless as she originally believed.

Oh well. Studying his face, Pam was pleased to see the sickly paleness had been replaced by his normal skin tone. He wasn't sweating anymore either. She must have done something right. Pam glanced hopefully at his crotch again. Wilted like a daisy on a hot summer day.

Sighing, Jeremy rolled as close to her as his handcuffed wrist would allow. She felt his nose against her collarbone as inhaled slowly. “Mmm,” he murmured. “You remind me of Pam.”

Raising an eyebrow, she peered at him. “Jeremy. I'm right here.”

He opened his eyes, looking at her in surprise. “You came back! I thought you went home.”

“Apple told me you weren't feeling well,” Pam said, “so I came back to check on you.”

“Oh. That was nice of you.” Jeremy blinked at her a few times before closing his eyes once more. She continued stroking his tummy, dipping a finger into his belly button before radiating outward in concentric circles. He breathed another contented sigh before burrowing his face once more against her neck.

“Mmm. You smell like Pam.”

Rolling her eyes, she stifled a giggle. Playing along, she asked, “Do you like the way Pam smells?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy answered, his voice muffled since his face was pressed against her skin. He inhaled so sharply that it tickled. “She always smells good. Especially her hair. It makes me want to...” He stopped to lick his lips.

“Want to what?”

Instead of answering, Jeremy sniffed at her again, a huge lungful of air that made his chest puff up. “Mmm.”

Pam's eyes drifted to his midsection where an erection had magically sprouted. “Do you think Pam is pretty?” she asked.

“Yeah. She's cute,” Jeremy said. His face remained buried against her neck as he surprised her by lapping at her skin with small flicks of his tongue. “We have this special game.”

Pam's heart skipped faster. “What kind of game?”

Jeremy stared at the ceiling in alarm. “Um, I'm actually not supposed to tell anyone about it.” Despite his denial, she saw his penis throb once, then twice. Now it was Pam's breathing that had grown uneven and shallow. Closing his eyes again, Jeremy said, “Can you go find Pam for me? Tell her I want to play Call of Duty.”

“Uh, sure, I'll tell her,” Pam replied. She suddenly remembered what he said about Apple using the same shampoo as her. “Wait, who do you think you're talking to right now?” If he said Apple, Pam was 99% certain that she would strangle him. And maybe Apple too.

Jeremy squinted at her through one eye. “You're Imaginary Pam. You're just in my head. Real Pam never actually comes with me to my dad's.”

“True,” Pam said, relieved.

Smacking his lips loudly, Jeremy closed his eyes once more. It apparently took an extraordinary amount of effort for him to talk. Pam hesitated as the good angel on her shoulder whispered in her ear. The young boy was clearly not in possession of his faculties. Just a moment ago, Pam had been in full-on mother mode to the disoriented boy. Was this really the time to play Call of Duty? Was she taking advantage of him?

But then the bad angel on her other shoulder piped up. “It'll help him fall asleep,” she reasoned. “Those handcuffs can come off. He'll feel much better tomorrow morning after sleeping off the brownie.”

Plus, that pulsing erection wasn't going to deflate on its own. He needed her help. Wasn't that the most motherly thing anyway, the bad angel reasoned, to comfort a boy in need?

The bad angel won, as usual. “Stay here, all right?” she told him. “I'll go find Pam for you.” In response, Jeremy mumbled several incoherent sentences. She was pretty sure she heard a 'thanks' in there somewhere as she left the room. Her feet quietly padded down the stairs. Cautiously, she peeked into the living room but it was empty except for Rose and Becky, partially hidden under several thick blankets.

The coast was clear. Pam boldly raided Apple's birthday presents for the second time that night, snatching the bottle of lube and slipping it in her pocket. Then she casually strolled back up the stairs. The perfect crime.

Upon re-entering the bedroom, the first order of business was to check the doorknob for a lock. Relieved to find one, she secured the door and tested it several times to ensure it was locked. Only then did Pam dare return to the bed where Jeremy still sprawled with his waiting erection and closed eyes. He opened them when she sat down next to him. “Hi there,” she said. “I heard you were looking for me?”

“Hi Pam!” He was genuinely surprised to see her.

“What's going on?”

“I'm playing Cops and Robbers with Imaginary Pam,” he told her, gesturing at the handcuffs. “But do you think we could play Call of Duty instead?”

“And how do you know I'm not Imaginary Pam?” she teased.

Reaching for her chest with his free hand, Jeremy began groping her breasts. Bemused, she leaned in closer to give him better access. Once he was satisfied, he nodded and said, “You're definitely Real Pam.”

“You're positive?”

Jeremy took her hand and began nibbling her fingers. She laughed as his lips tickled her digits one by one. “You taste like Real Pam too,” he said.

“I didn't know Real Pam had a taste,” she replied.

“Sure, she does. She tastes like strawberries. You're Real Pam. For sure.”

His mental state seemed to be stabilizing nicely, having evolved from stoner talk to spacey forthrightness. Pam was starting to have fun. “Well, how do I know you're Real Jeremy?” she asked. He responded by covering her eyes with his hand. Understanding the game, Pam let her eager hands roam across the young boy. Starting with his torso, her fingers blindly caressed his collarbone and counted his ribs. Once again, there was no reaction from him when she touched the ticklish spot on the side of his ribs. Then she explored the slender muscles of his arms, followed by a good tousling of the familiar texture of his hair. Her hands then drifted downward. Past his boyish jawline... Past his smooth chest... Past his taut belly...

“Oh my, what's this?” she playfully murmured as her fingers closed around something hard. “It feels very familiar. Who does this remind me of?” His palm covering her eyes was growing warm. “Is that you, Jeremy?”

“Surprise!” He took away his hand. He was all grins now. Pam employed a two-handed technique in which she simultaneously cupped his boys and stroked his shaft. He usually asked her to only do one or the other. Tonight seemed to be the exception. “That feels nice,” Jeremy sighed. He punctuated the praise with a stiff throb.

“I can tell,” she smiled, reaching into her pocket. “I've got something to make it feel even better.” Jeremy watched as she squirted some lube into her palm.

The aroma of artificial coconut, cloying yet alluring, filled the room. In addition to the scent, the new lube seemed much more slippery than their usual K-Y. Enjoying herself, Pam kneaded it into the soft skin that masked his underlying hardness. Jeremy flinched, sucking in his breath. “Oops,” Pam said. “Too hard?”

“No. That feels good.”

Pam experimentally squeezed his erect penis, eliciting another shudder from the young boy. He seemed to like it so she did it again. This time a moan, low and trembling, escaped his lips. If Pam was beside herself in arousal, she could only imagine how it felt for him. The odd thing was that Jeremy usually preferred a lighter touch. Throwing caution to the wind, Pam clenched her fingers as hard as she could muster.

Jeremy's flat hips rose off the bed as he grabbed her hand, squeezing so hard that his fingernails dug painfully into her skin. Thinking she had pushed things too far, Pam immediately slackened her iron grip. It took her a moment to realize Jeremy wasn't in pain. “Do it again,” he requested.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Pam complied. The coconut-scented lube squished between her fingers as she jerked him off in tight strokes. “Yeah... yeah...” he said softly, the words muffled as he pulled her wrist over his mouth. Then, finally, more loudly, “YEAH!” Without warning, Jeremy turned his head and bit down on her forearm. Amazed, Pam continued pleasuring the boy as his penis throbbed mightily against her tight grip. It was like they were at war, him pushing against her as she squeezed back. His biting only served to heighten the experience. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but she could definitely feel his teeth digging into the flesh of her arm.

His body tensed flat as a board for a long second before crumpling into relaxation. He didn't say anything other than a very satisfied sigh that made Pam feel very proud. Coconut lube dripped precipitously down her arm, but Pam took a moment plant a kiss on his cheek. She recognized the familiar, sleepy sound of his even breathing. His chin dug into his shoulder as he nodded off.

“Mission accomplished,” she whispered softly to herself. Leaving the young boy to his post-orgasmic slumber, Pam went to the bathroom to rinse off her hand. She was surprised to find a clean imprint of a bite mark on her arm where Jeremy had been gnawing. Pam imagined him being so startled by the intensity of the orgasm that he felt compelled to bite her. The thought made her smile.

When she returned, she noticed that his sleeping body was contorted into an odd position, as if he were striking an odd dance move with his arm over his head while his legs twisted below. Guiltily, she remembered the handcuffs that still bound him to the headboard. Using the key attached to her wrist, she unlocked the cuffs. They clanked so loudly in her hands that she worried about waking Jeremy. Stuffing the handcuffs under the pillow, she gently tucked his arm into his side and covered him with a sheet.

“I probably should have wet a washcloth to clean him down there,” Pam thought to herself. But she didn't want to disturb his sleep. Besides, what was the harm? Tomorrow morning, he would just wake up on the sticky side. Being a boy, he probably wouldn't even notice.

She turned off the bedside lamp so the only source of illumination was the work light over the desk on the far side of the room. Pam checked her watch. It was only 10 pm. “I'll just stay awake for a few hours,” she strategized. “Make sure he doesn't swallow his tongue or wander off in search of a glass of water. Maybe I'll ask Apple if she has some pajamas I can borrow. And a book too...”

Pam was so lost in thought that she was completely unprepared when she turned around to see Jeremy sitting up straight in bed.

“Ack!” She managed to stifle her full-out shriek into a muffled gurgle. Facing away from her, his upright form looked thoroughly spooky in the darkened room. She half-expected his head to swivel 180 degrees in a remake of the scene from The Exorcist.

Her heart palpitations slowed as he turned around (normally) to look at her. “Oh. Hi Pam!” he greeted. He turned on the bedside lamp.

“I.. uh, hi,” Pam stammered. “What... why aren't you asleep?”

“I'm not tired,” he chirped.

Pam was dumbfounded. “But you just...”

“Just what?”

Sitting on the bed, Pam took him by the shoulders and urged him to lie down. “Okay, let's try this again,” she said. “Just close your eyes. Relax. It's bedtime.”

“But I'm not tired,” he repeated. Before she could react, he sprung from the bed. Grasping her shoulders, he guided her into the space he just vacated. “You should lie down. You should go to sleep.”

“I'm not sleepy,” Pam protested. She tried to sit up, but he held her shoulders in place on the mattress.

“Really? Can we play Call of Duty?” He was straddling her now and Pam could easily see between his legs. He wasn't quite fully erect, but nor was he completely wilted. Pam nervously looked at the door that was once again ajar. After washing her hands in the bathroom, she had forgotten to fully close it.

“Just a second, Jeremy,” she began. “Let's...”

He interrupted her by taking both her wrists and pinning her arms above her head as she lay underneath him on the bed. “I love you,” he said, tenderly looking into her eyes.

“... close the doo-” Pam trailed off. “What?”

“I love you,” he said again.

Pam was momentarily touched by the words until she remembered it was the weed talking. His red eyes and fuzzy expression were clear indicators that he was far from sober. Nevertheless, that didn't change how much she liked hearing him say those words. “You love me?” Pam asked, forgetting about the open door.

“I do.” His hands still clasped tightly around her wrists and his face was mere inches from hers. “Now you say it,” Jeremy ordered.

Pam self-consciously cleared her throat. “I love you too.” Saying those words aloud filled her with elation. He was still pinning her down and it only underscored the fact that she was at the mercy of his love. Moving closer, Jeremy kissed her. A boyish kiss, the kind where it was barely a peck on her lips. She liked it anyway though.

“This is nice and all,” Pam began, “but can we close the door?”

“Nope.” He kissed her neck, causing her to squirm in delight.

“Mmm.” Pam tried to focus. “No, really, Jeremy. It'll just take a second to close the door.”

He held her wrists tight while his lips wandered her neck. “But you like it when I do this.”

“I do but...” Pam trailed off as she felt something poking her stomach. Something hard. Leaping off the diving board, her mind was suddenly swimming in a deep pool of desire. Pam briefly wondered if she was experiencing a contact high. She was pondering this when she felt something cold around her wrist, followed by a metallic click. Realizing too late what was happening, Pam feebly attempted to escape Jeremy's grasp but the young boy's grip was surprisingly strong.

And then, just like that, she found herself with both wrists securely handcuffed.

“Hey!” Pam protested. She tried to bring her arms down, but was answered by the sound of metal on metal. Craning her neck upward, Pam realized that he had looped the handcuffs around the bedpost railing. How had done that without her noticing?

“Ha!” Jeremy grinned. “I got you!”

When she woke up this morning, being handcuffed to a bed by Jeremy would have been the last thing she expected to happen. Pam mentally kicked herself for falling for his lovey-dovey talk. Thankfully, the key to the handcuffs was still securely attached to her wrist. Pam began fumbling with key as she attempted to blindly insert it into the keyhole. “You're in big trouble,” she said sternly.

“I'm not in trouble,” he contradicted. “You're the one that's actually in trouble.” His hand began roaming across the front of her dress.

The handcuffs bound her wrists so tightly that it was difficult to maneuver the key into place. It didn't help when Jeremy began massaging her breasts through her dress. “Hey,” Pam barked. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop... mmm...” Pam succumbed to a tingle as the young boy's skilled fingers targeted her nipples. “Stop touching me there.”

“Okay, I'll stop,” he said, taking his hands away. The moment his attention ceased, Pam couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of disappointment. But that feeling changed into surprise when he reached under her dress and began tugging her underwear down.

“Jeremy. What are you doing?”

“I want to pet your kitten,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Pam was torn between common sense and her growing arousal. Part of her throbbed when he so casually declared that he was going to 'pet her kitten'. The innocuous nature of the phrase, uttered by an apparently innocent boy, was undercut by its illicit meaning. Despite her misgivings, Pam didn't fight as he slid her panties past her knees and then extracted each ankle.

“But someone might walk in on us,” Pam said, nodding at the open door. She was truly trying her best to be reasonable.

“I'll hide down here,” Jeremy proposed. Yanking the sheets off the bed, he wrapped them around his shoulders like a cape. He then clambered onto the foot of the bed and flapped his arms to make the sheet billow like a flag in the wind. Finally he crouched low, letting the fluttering sheet settle around him until he was completely covered up.

“This is silly,” Pam said. “It's going to be obvious to anyone that you're down there.” She waited for an answer but there was none. To an outsider, she may have been merely lying in bed, fully clothed in her dress, with a sheet covering her lower body. But the moving hump under the sheets was a dead giveaway that wouldn't have even fooled a toddler.

“I know you can hear me down there,” Pam continued. Once again, she began fumbling with the key to the handcuffs. Underneath the sheets, she felt Jeremy grasp her ankles and wrench them apart.

“Just you wait until I get these handcuffs off,” Pam muttered. She gritted her teeth as she tried to insert the key. This was impossible. She slipped the elastic ponytail holder from her wrist. Perhaps it would be easier if the key weren't attached to her wrist. Down below, the misshapen lump under the sheets began crawling between her spread legs.

“Here kitty kitty,” she heard him say. His sharp elbows poked her inner thighs. He had burrowed so far under her dress that she could feel his breath on a very intimate spot between her legs. Pam let herself be distracted for just a second, but it was enough to cause the key to nearly slip from her fingers. She caught it just in time. It would have been disastrous had the key fallen to the ground.

She needed to concentrate to unlock the handcuffs, but she couldn't concentrate with Jeremy fooling around down there. “Could you come out from under that sheet?” she begged. “Please?”

Jeremy's disembodied voice answered from under the sheet. “But I found the lost kitty. I think it misses me.” Pam felt something tickle her inner leg. It was soft but scratchy at the same time. She realized Jeremy was peppering her with gentle kisses. Kisses that were moving closer and closer to...

Glancing at the open door, Pam spread her knees wider. Her hormones were beginning to overpower her sense of self-preservation. So far this evening, he had helped her get rid of her hiccups and then she had treated him to some coconut-scented lube. It really wasn't her fault. There was only so much teasing a girl could take.

“Mmm,” she murmured as he planted a soft kiss at the top of her valley, exactly where her clit was hidden underneath. He had never done anything like this before. His lips made no direct contact with her clit, but she felt herself swell nevertheless. Pam couldn't help but flinch when his fingers spread her open. Her sudden movement made the handcuffs clink against the bedpost, the sound a reminder of her current predicament.

Though she couldn't see him, his face must have been exceptionally close to her crotch. She swore she could feel the warm puff of his breath on her supercharged clit. “Hi there, kitty,” he said from under the sheet. Smacking his lips, he teased her by making some kissy-kiss noises. Was he really going to-

“Oh!” Pam gasped as he unexpectedly kissed her clit. They were his usual closed-mouth kisses, but they were enough to make her squirm in the mussed bed.

“Aw, what a sweet little kitten,” Jeremy said. “Mama cat loves you so much...”

Mama cat? Perplexed by this latest bit of stoner talk, Pam said, “Okay, this is starting to get... sweet baby Jesus that's your tongue.”

Something wet and wiggly was tickling her clit, causing her eyes to go wide. Her spine involuntarily clenched as she thrust her hips at the eleven year old boy. Jeremy was licking her clit, exactly like the cat licked its kittens in the nature documentary they watched earlier that evening. At first, his tongue darted at her clit in fleeting teases before settling into a delicious lapping rhythm. This continued for, quite possibly, the best sixty seconds of Pam's life before Jeremy paused.

“Does the kitten like this?” he asked.

“Yes!”

The hidden Jeremy chuckled. “I know what else the kitty likes.”

She felt his finger slip, effortlessly, into her wet kitten. “Oh my,” Pam breathed, curling her toes against the mattress. “Oh yes.”

“Good kitty,” Jeremy praised. “Come here... I'll be nice.”

Pam was squirming in earnest now. His probing finger was unlike anything she had felt before. She hoped the pot brownie wouldn't affect his memory because Pam definitely wanted to ask him tomorrow what, exactly, his finger was doing inside her kitten. She knew he wasn't thrusting, but his finger kept making contact with a certain spot. There was an indescribable pleasure as his digit wiggled to and fro. It was wonderful, though she had the sudden urge to pee.

The arousal continued to build inside her, gathering so strong that it was almost agonizing. The sweet ache had now spread from between her legs and was threatening to envelope every inch of her skin. Now that his finger was embedded inside her kitten, Jeremy was giving far too little attention to her clit. If only she wasn't tethered to the bed, she could take matters into her own hands. Frustrated, Pam yanked at the handcuffs but they held firm. “Jeremy, my clit. Please?”

It turned her on to beg an eleven year old boy for intimate attention, but her plea fell on deaf ears. Instead, she felt his finger redouble its efforts against a certain spot inside her. “Here, kitty,” Jeremy teased.

Pam bit her lip. She didn't want to make too much noise since the bedroom door was not closed. Jeremy's attention felt amazing, but now she really had to pee. Losing her patience, she futilely fumbled with the handcuffs key once more. “Clit... now,” she pleaded. “Jeremy? Please?”

She breathed a sigh of relief as something wet caressed her clit. She had grown so sensitive that his tongue felt rough against her hard pearl. Already tottering at the edge, the slightest nudge was all Pam needed. His tongue lapped her twice more before she exploded in a white hot orgasm.

“Oh god!” Pam thankfully remembered to keep her voice down. The urge to pee had become so overwhelming that it took all her strength to hold it. Strangely enough, that act merely made her orgasm all the more powerful. Lost in waves of pleasure, she writhed uncontrollably on the bed. The handcuffs key slipped from her fingers. Pam heard it clatter onto the floor behind the headboard. That should have been cause for alarm, except she was too busy coming to care about the key now.

“Clank... clank... clank...” The sound of the handcuffs against the bed frame was synchronized to Pam's moans. Out of sheer habit, her hands longed to touch her breasts but all she could do was wriggle helplessly as Jeremy coaxed every last ounce from her orgasm. He waited until the last shivers subsided before triumphantly rising to his knees from under the sheets.

“I rule!” he declared, letting the sheet flutter on his shoulders like a superhero cape.

“You're the best,” she affirmed, catching her breath. Now that her hormones were satiated, the next point of order was to get these damned handcuffs off. “Can you do me a favor?” Pam asked. “I dropped my ponytail holder behind the bed. Can you try to find it?”

She expected him to get on his hands and knees to reach under the bed. Instead Jeremy shuffled forward on his knees. The sheet remained wrapped around his shoulders, but it did little to hide the fact that he was once again sporting an erection.

“I don't see anything,” he reported, peering through the lattices on the headboard.

“Are you sure?” she persisted. “I'm positive I dropped it back there. It has to be down there somewhere.”

“It's not there,” Jeremy said, sending a quiver of fear through her heart. She pondered sending him off in search of a pair of cable cutters. With her luck, Jeremy would probably wander off and not return until the morning.

“Wait! I see it!”

An inundation of relief. “Really?”

“Yeah. Let's see if I can reach it.” Jeremy swung a leg over her chest, straddling her as she lay on the bed.

“Uh, okay,” Pam agreed. Throwing off the bedsheet, Jeremy was unusually comfortable with his lack of clothing. His erection swung wildly as he positioned himself atop her in a kneeling position. Straining, he extended his arm through the headboard lattice.

“So close,” Jeremy mumbled, his cheek mashed against the metal railing. “I need to be closer.” Shifting on the bed, he waddled his knees closer to the headboard. Pam had to dodge as his erect penis nearly poked her in the eye.

“Sure!” she croaked. “I'll just, um, wait patiently.” His squishy scrotum was jammed so tight against her chin that she could feel his testicles. Moreover, his erection was resting on her cheek as if it belonged there.

It had to be the marijuana. Jeremy normally would be quite shy about his privates in her face. This arrangement was exactly like the 'tower' position that she so rarely had the opportunity to enjoy. It took all the cajoling in the world for him to tower her, but here he was doing it with zero complaints.

Sighing in frustration, Jeremy tried to reach the key with his other arm. “I almost got it,” he said. “I'm just like an inch too far away.”

“Take your time,” Pam advised. “No need to rush.” His penis was still sticky from their earlier play. It smelled like coconut. Whenever he bent to reach the dropped key, his tummy would press against the top of her head, restricting her breathing as he pushed his crotch into her face. If forced to choose, Pam decided that getting smothered by an eleven year old boy would be an excellent way to exit this life.

“Got it!” Jeremy crowed.

“Rats,” Pam said. “I mean, hooray. Can you just place it in my hand?” She opened her palm. Jeremy had either not noticed or didn't care that they handcuff key was attached to the ponytail holder.

“What's my reward?” Jeremy demanded. Wriggling away, he sat down on her midsection.

“Oof!” Pam was about to thank him for breaking her ribs when she noticed how his erect penis lay perfectly positioned between her breasts. Unlock first and play later, she told herself. “I'll get you some chocolate ice cream tomorrow,” she promised. “How's that for a reward?” Elated, she felt the key slip into the waiting keyhole.

“What else?”

“And a big kiss too,” Pam added distractedly. Her bound wrists limited her dexterity, making it difficult to even turn the key in the lock.

“How about a kiss right now?” Jeremy asked.

“Just a second,” Pam said. She successfully twisted the key clockwise and was rewarded by a loud click as the handcuffs unlocked. Finally. She was about to sit up when Jeremy, still straddling her, returned to a kneeling position.

“It's been a second,” he announced. Inching forward on his knees, he thrust out his hips so his penis pointed straight at her face. “Where's my kiss?”

Pam's jaw dropped. Her eyebrows raised clear across her forehead. Had she misheard him? Or misread him? Or was Jeremy asking her to... Before he could change his mind, Pam craned her neck forward to cover the mere inches that separated her lips from his erection. Her spine tingled as she made contact with his trembling erection with a quiet smack of her lips.

Jeremy didn't chuckle. He didn't pull away or tell her to stop. Instead, he just let his penis rest against her mouth. “You know, I can do anything I want since you're locked up,” he taunted.

His words sent a searing heat through her kitten. “Yes. Yes, that is true,” Pam agreed. Each word caused her lips to scrape deliciously against his erection. Not even thinking twice, she quickly re-closed the handcuff around her wrist. It ratcheted shut in firm, metallic clicks. “What are you going to make me do?”

“Give me another kiss,” he ordered. Pam immediately complied. Puckering up, she gave him a warm kiss on the tip of his penis and was gratified to feel him throb in response.

“How's that?” she asked.

“That was nice. Do it again.” His skin felt achingly warm against her lips. Pam began kissing him over and over. Jeremy must have been imperceptibly shifting his hips because her mouth wandered all along his shaft and Pam didn't have to move a muscle. Daringly, she began giving him lingering kisses in which her tongue joined in on the action, shyly darting out to taste his hardness.

What amazed her the most was Jeremy's willingness for the unfolding events. Had he been sober, he doubtlessly would be doubled over in hysteric peals of ticklishness. As it was, his eyes were half-closed and his jaw loose in an expression of contented pleasure. Lost in her version of heaven, Pam was using her lips to gently nibble at his foreskin when she felt Jeremy hand touching her hair. Was she imagining things? Or was Jeremy gently but persistently pushing her head closer to his crotch? Parting her mouth, Pam engulfed the young boy's erection.

“Hhrhrmmm.” Jeremy made a noise that was clearly not a protest. Her eyes wide with sheer delight, Pam let her tongue swirl against his penis. Underneath the remnants of artificial coconut lube (which wasn't half bad), she could clearly taste a boy. A young one. It was a flavor that had tantalizingly eluded her for so long.

But not anymore. She couldn't believe Jeremy's appetite for oral pleasure. Holding her head in place with both hands, he began to thrust his hips, his erection stabbing her mouth in confident plunges. He had never performed this humping motion before. Had he been secretly practicing?

Whatever the case, it was incredibly arousing to see an eleven year old boy engage in such an overtly sexual movement. Previously, her preferred position had been for Jeremy to straddle her and masturbate, putting on a show as he towered over her. If towering was like standing outside in the rain, then their current game was like being caught in a monsoon. Her lips kept making contact with the perfectly smooth skin near the root of his penis. It was her first experience giving a blowjob without pesky and prickly pubic hair getting in the way.

Her kitten demanded attention, but the handcuffs prevented her from touching herself. Pam was caught in a feedback loop as her arousal and frustration pushed each other higher. She timed her breaths to match Jeremy's thrusts, enjoying the way his erection continuously penetrated her lips. The smooth muscles of his abdomen undulated in a hypnotizing manner, like rippling waves in an ocean.

The rolling sea was initially calm and measured, but they soon grew in intensity. Jeremy was thrusting faster now. Her mouth eagerly accepted him, but it wasn't as if she had a choice. Her wrists were securely handcuffed and her head held immobile by his vise-like grip. The young boy fit easily in her mouth, his penis not even reaching the back of her throat. Her saliva had washed away any hint of coconut. All she could taste now was the pure Jeremy: a sort of unripened masculinity with smooth overtones of his innocence.

A series of shivers descended on him. He pulled her hair. Hard. “Oh! Pam! I'm going to...” She felt him throbbing in her mouth, his erection flexing like a muscle. His grip on her hair was not at all malicious; it was clear that he was holding on for dear life as his orgasm hit home. Instinctively, Pam readied herself for a squirt of warm liquid that never came. For the briefest moment, she had forgotten that he was so young. This reminder of his youth filled her with longing.

“Oh... Oh Pam.” Her favorite thing (well, one of her favorite things) was hearing Jeremy say her name when he came. But hearing him say it now, while thrusting into her mouth and pulling her hair, made a good thing even better. Eventually, his hips began moving slower until he finally came to a stop, the tip of his softening erection still between her lips. Pam gave it a fleeting goodbye kiss as Jeremy pulled away and leaned backward. He collapsed in a graceless pile, his knees bent beneath him and his head thumping against her knees.

“Are you okay?” Pam asked. Since he still straddled her, she had an excellent view between his legs. Finally satiated, his penis was finally returning to a state of hibernation. Flopping charmingly against his pink scrotum, his softening member was also covered in a glossy sheen. Pam smiled. “That's my saliva,” she thought wonderingly.

Jeremy didn't answer so she tackled the handcuff problem one last time. It took several minutes, but she was finally able to free herself. Sitting up, Pam rubbed the red marks left on her wrists by the handcuffs. She was relieved to find Jeremy now sound asleep. As gently as possible, she rolled herself out from under the naked boy.

Her dress was hopelessly wrinkled, but it couldn't be helped. Retrieving her underwear, Pam slipped it on before heading to the kitchen for some water. On her way back upstairs, she nearly bumped into Apple who was exiting the bathroom.

“Oh. Hi Apple,” she said.

“Hi Pam,” Apple said. Her breath smelled like minty mouthwash. “Is Jeremy okay?”

“He finally fell asleep. I think he'll be fine, but I'm going to spend the night. Just in case.”

A guilty look crossed Apple's face. “Sorry we let him eat the brownie,” Apple said. “We should have been more careful.”

“It was an accident,” Pam demurred. Perhaps all that sex had mellowed her out because she suddenly felt a genuine sense of contrition. “Uh, hey, sorry about that whole Kiss and Guess thing with Zep. I was just trying to make your friends laugh.”

Apple avoided her eyes. “I really didn't like it when you kissed him.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Please don't do it again.”

“I won't,” Pam promised.

There was an tense silence as the two of them stood on the landing. Finally, Apple offered, “Do you need pajamas for tonight?”

Pam nodded gratefully. “That would be wonderful.” She followed Apple to her room where Zep was already asleep in her bed. Pam tried not to laugh at the sight of the shirtless, punk-rock teen nestled in the pink sheets and stuffed animals on Apple's bed. Her eyes wandered across the rest of the room: a black and white poster of The Cure, an antique rotary phone, and entire shelf of Andy Warhol books. She noticed a framed photo of a boy, maybe nine or ten years old, who was smiling at the camera as he stood on an unnamed beach. Pam took special interest in his gawky shoulders and messy blond hair.

Apple caught her leaning into the picture for a closer look. “Isn't he the cutest?” she whispered to Pam.

Embarrassed, Pam straightened to look at the photo from an appropriate distance. “Yeah,” she answered. “Who is he?”

“That's Zep!” Apple smiled.

Unable to help herself, Pam leaned in again for a closer look. “Really? I never would have guessed.” If anything, the boy in the photo could have been a distant cousin of Jeremy's. He was a far cry from Zep's current punk aesthetic and athletic build.

While the teenage girl searched her dresser drawer, Pam stretched her jaws by opening and closing her mouth several times. She had forgotten about that aching, post-blowjob feeling in the hinge of her jaws. Not that she was complaining. It did help, though, that Jeremy's modest girth meant she didn't have to open her mouth so wide.

“Here you go,” Apple whispered, handing her a bundle of clothing. Suddenly realizing that Apple was massaging her jaw in a mirror image of herself, Pam quickly closed her mouth and took her hand away. The minty mouthwash made sense now.

“Thanks Apple!” she whispered back. “See you in the morning.”

“Okay.” Apple paused a moment, then continued, “I'll be sleeping in the living room with Becky and Rose. If my mom asks, can you just tell her Zep fell asleep in my bed? By himself?”

Pam pulled an imaginary zipper across her lips and nodded. “Of course. Good night!”

“Good night!”

Pam hastily retreated to the third floor of the condo. Jeremy still snoozed peaceably in the bed, just as she had left him. She quickly changed into Apple's pajamas. They were a girlish shade of pink and not really her style, but Pam was too tired to care. Now properly attired, she found Jeremy's underwear and pulled them onto the sleeping boy, one leg at a time. As usual, he slept through the whole affair.

The bed was big enough to fit both of them, albeit cozily, but Pam chose the armchair instead. Remembering Apple's request to tell her mom a little white lie about the sleeping arrangement with Zep, Pam could only imagine William's reaction if he found out she shared a bed with Jeremy. She wondered if William and Marla be surprised to see her tomorrow morning.

“I'll just tell them Jeremy didn't feel well,” she mused. “Like he had a stomach bug so I decided to spend the night so he wouldn't...” Her train of thought drifted off the rails. Fondly looking at Jeremy, she mumbled, “Wow. I just made an eleven year old boy come in my mouth.”

Focus. Pam shook her head. “Things will be fine tomorrow,” she though. “William thinks I'm the greatest, so why would he suspect a thing?” Yawning, Pam propped her head on her fist. Then she put her feet up on the bed. The sound of Jeremy's even breathing was like a puffing locomotive. Despite the hypnotizing sound, she managed to vigilantly stay awake until 2 am before falling asleep herself.



“Pam? Hey. Pam.” Someone touched her arm. “Why are you sleeping in this armchair?

She opened her bleary eyes to see Jeremy's concerned face. “Why not? It's such a comfy chair,” she murmured. Tucking her face into the crook of her elbow, she curled up into a ball. She was drifting off when Pam lurched into a sitting position.

“Jeremy! You're awake!”

It was such an obvious statement that he gave her a look. “Uh, yeah. I'm awake.”

Outside the bedroom window, she could see sunshine bursting through the trees. Pam grabbed him by the shoulders. Jeremy nearly stumbled as she pulled him close. Aside from his underwear, he was all bare skin and tousled hair.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “Is everything okay? Do you feel weird?”

“Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?”

“Are you sure?” She remembered the news article about the effect of marijuana on developing brains. “What's your name?” she quizzed.

He looked at her like she was crazy. “What?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Jeremy Prater?”

“When's your birthday?”

“June 21.”

“What's my name? What's my birthday?”

“Pam Carpenter. December 21.” Jeremy squinted at her. “What's the matter with you?”

“No apparent cognitive damage,” Pam muttered to herself. She moved her hand back and forth in front of his face. “Follow my finger,” she commanded. He doubtfully did as she instructed. “Now close your eyes and touch your nose.”

“This is getting really weird,” Jeremy said. He passed that test too.

Motor functions appear normal, she thought with relief. Had he wandered off after she fell asleep? Pam began running her hands along his limbs to check for broken bones. “How long have you been up? What time is it?”

“It's seven in the morning,” Jeremy answered. “I just woke up half an hour ago and... what are you doing? Quit it!” He slapped her hands away from the ticklish spot near his ribs.

Pam was flooded with relief. If he was ticklish there, then everything was assuredly back to normal. “Thank goodness you're okay,” she said, hugging him tight. “I was so worried.”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, tentatively hugging her back. He asked again, “Why are you sleeping in the armchair?”

“What do you remember from last night?” she asked, answering his question with a question.

“It was Apple's birthday party,” Jeremy began. “I had cupcakes. You had bad hiccups.” He paused. “I played Madden with Zep. Didn't I?”

“Yes,” Pam said patiently. “You lost.”

He touched the band-aid on his elbow. “I don't remember this happening.”

“You tripped,” Pam told him. “Is that all you remember?”

She watched as he searched his memory. “Did we play Call of Duty last night?” Pam nodded, waiting for him to continue. “I guess I just fell asleep after that. It's weird, I can't remember what was a dream and what was real. Did we...” he trailed off. Jeremy looked at her with a puzzled expression, then shook his head, as if he were shrugging off a thought.

“What is it?” Pam asked.

Jeremy shook his head again. “It's nothing. Can we have breakfast? I'm starving.”

“Why don't your brush your teeth first?” she proposed. “You forgot to do it last night.” He reluctantly headed for the bathroom. Pam stood up to stretch. Her neck felt funny from sleeping in the armchair so she laid down in the luxurious bed. All's well that ends well, she supposed. She was adjusting the pillow when she felt something cold and metallic underneath it. The handcuffs.

Pam smiled dreamily at the ceiling. Even though the bathroom was across the hallway, she could hear a loud swishing noise as Jeremy began brushing his teeth. Feeling devilish, she grabbed her phone and called Suzy.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it's me,” Pam said.

“Pam?” She had clearly woken Suzy up. “Why are you calling? What time is it?”

“It's 7:10,” she informed her friend. “Guess what?”

“What?”

Pam paused dramatically. “I made him come in my mouth last night!” Wiggling in the bed, she spread her limbs into an X among the soft sheets.

“Um, congrats?” Pam could practically see Suzy's expression of confused pity.

“It was so hot,” Pam confided. She giggled at the memory. “He pulled my hair when he came. He also, ahem, ate me out for the first time.”

“For the first time,” Suzy repeated. “You've been dating a year and you just now got to oral. Great. At this rate, you'll graduate from missionary to doggy style in, oh let's say, eighteen months.”

Pam examined her arm. Jeremy's teeth marks on her skin were faint but visible. Admiring the crooked pockmarks left by his incisors, Pam took a deep breath. “We haven't fucked yet,” she told Suzy. “And I'm not embarrassed to say that.”

There was silence on the other end. “Are you drunk?” Suzy finally asked.

“Nope. Stone cold sober.”

“So let me get this straight. You just woke me up, at 7 am on the weekend, to brag that you let a guy come in your mouth. And also to brag about that you're not fucking?”

“Not fucking... yet,” Pam said slyly. “I want to save it for a special occasion.”

“You know what? I'm hanging up.”

“Don't hate. Relationships can be more than just the physical stuff. You're just jealous that you're not in love.”

Suzy sighed so loudly that Pam had to hold the phone away from her ear. “I am seriously considering your need for a good therapist,” Suzy told her. “Bye, Pam.”

“Call me later,” Pam said. “I still want to hear about Mr. Everhard. Bye!” She ended the call just as Jeremy returned from brushing his teeth.

“Why are you in bed?” he asked, pulling her to her feet. He laughed. “You're wearing Apple's clothes.”

She had forgotten about that. Finding a mirror on the back of the door, she regarded the outfit with a dismal expression. “I look so... pink,” she commented.

He slapped her on the butt. “Come on, Juicy,” Jeremy said. “I'm starving.”

Turning, she made another face at the letters emblazoned across the rear of the sweats. “Why would anyone want the word 'Juicy' written on their butt?” she frowned.

“Now everyone knows you're Juicy,” Jeremy laughed. “I'm going to start calling you Juicy.”

Remembering last night, Pam touched her lips. “Oh yeah? I'm going to start calling you Smoothie.”

Apparently, he didn't make the connection because Jeremy seemed pleased. “That's fine. I'm a smooth operator.”

“Fair enough,” Pam said. She looked in the mirror again. “Just don't tell anyone I was wearing these, okay?”

“I won't,” Jeremy promised. He held her hand as they walked down the stairs. “You won't believe this crazy dream I had last night. I was on some tropical island, drinking out of a coconut.”

Pam laughed. “I can hardly believe anything about last night.”



Previous Chapter:
Chapter 15 - Spring Break, Part 1

Next chapter:
Chapter 16 - Peel Slowly and See



Index to all chapters of the Jeremy series.

My non-Jeremy stories (Mg) can be found here.



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