Young Amy fights her desires.

Over the weekend, Amy thought about Max having fucked her. Yes, she was sure in her mind that is what had happened Friday afternoon. Max had fucked her. It wasn’t her fault. But she kept thinking about it and thinking about it, and the thoughts kept making her feel a sexual tingling sensation in her loins which caused her hand to stray between her thighs to rub.

Now it was Monday afternoon, and school was out. It had been hard to keep her hand from between her thighs during her classes, but somehow she had managed. Now walking home, she could feel the wetness of her panties and her pussy and clitoris straining to be…what? Rubbed. Yes, rubbed. Amy found herself increasing her pace to almost a run in her hurry to get home. Her mother would be gone, and she would be home alone. She wasn’t really going to do anything sexual, she told herself. She just wanted to get home to do… well, she wasn’t sure what yet.

The young 15-year-old entered her house and went straight to her bedroom. At first she sat at her desk to start her homework, but she could not concentrate on it. Maybe she would just get on her bed and read.

And so she lay back on her bed with her pillows behind her back and started to read. But still she could not concentrate on her reading. Seemingly against her will, her thoughts strayed to last Friday again, and her left hand moved down to between her thighs and started rubbing her wet panties. She could feel her pussy lips swelling and its juices seeping even more through her panties.

“Stop that.” she told herself, and she put her hand back. to her book. Two minutes later, she put the book down.

Licking her parched lips, she decided to go into the kitchen to get something to drink. Of course, on the way to the kitchen, she had to pass the sliding glass door to the backyard, and as she did so, she looked outside.

There was Max, sleeping on the porch. Amy felt herself flush and her chest tighten. She went to the cupboard, got a drinking glass, and filled it half full of water from the faucet.

Why was her hand trembling, Amy wondered, as she held the glass to her lips.

As she returned to her bedroom, she again started to pass by the sliding glass door. But this time she stopped when she saw Max.

“I’ll just let Max in the house for awhile. He looks lonely out there.” Amy said to herself.

Max’s ears perked up, as he heard the glass door scrape open, and he bounded into the house obviously happy to be let in.