If not, we can talk to her parents. How does that sound to you?"I didn't say anything, and he nodded to himself and applied knife and fork to his eggs..."Dad, do you know how old I am?" I asked.My father stopped for a moment, thinking—he had to stop and remember how old I was! "Fifteen, if I'm not mistaken." No, I thought he was seventeen," my mother said."What year was he born in," my father asked her."Wasn't it nineteen—" I'm sixteen," I interrupted. "I'm a junior in high school. And I am an. She worked her tongue around for a couple of minutes I think, it could have been less. The awkward feeling probably made it seem longer than it was.As she pulled away, she questioned, “Did you like that?”I gasped a pitchy “Uh, huh.”She continued her way up my back, again paying close attention to my assorted wounds. She grabbed my chest from behind and stood me upright. Her body pressed tightly to mine. She was gently kissing my shoulders as her right hand began to lower.She began to feel. More

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