The Best Chaperone
Richard Prins

The mothers thought him the best chaperone. The daughters returned with their maidenheads.
They did not know he seduced them from the less-wieldy clutches of their dates. To endlessly tickle what zones lay between the erogenous ones.
His fingers were made muscular by these antics. So he had steady handshakes. A steady hand on steering wheels. The steadiest smile at opened doors. Their ladyribs still aching from the ill-begotten laughter.

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