Tommy and Randy and Keith were dead wrong.
Tim did not find me or beg me to come back, not the next day or the next week or even during the next week after that. Of course, I could hardly blame him. The look of pure shock on his handsome young face when he discovered me naked and eagerly fucking three boys at the same time was something I'll never forget.
Or ever get over.
In fact, it was such a shock to both of us, I'm surprised Tim didn't have a heart attack and fall down dead right then and there outside that stupid van, 12-years-old or not.
“Oh, God,” I'd started crying again, as soon as he disappeared. “Oh, no, he'll never forgive me now! What have I done…?”
And, of course, this was followed by the usual crying and pulling my hair and trying to figure out a way to repair the horrible damage done, but-in the end-we all four realized there was nothing to be done about it.
He was gone and that was that.
We'd all stayed in the van the rest of the afternoon, talking and trying to reason out my next best move, even crying together and, yes, still naked and fucking off and on, but by the time I walked home I was too exhausted, too fucked-out and too cried-out to even shed another tear.
I felt like I'd died. Or just wanted to be dead.
Virginia K.G. Ryder
Little Maureen's Family Pleasures