"Don't avoid it, Angie. I'm not the only one who thinks that our relationship is weird. Some part of you must hate me."Her eyes came back to me. "I've...tried, believe me, I've tried. I can't hate you. I love you." She smiled again, this time without any trace of sadness.A tear I didn't know was there slipped down my cheek. It was that very smile which caught my eye that day, so long ago. She had been in a blue 1968 Corvette. The bright summer sunlight shining in the highlighted streaks of the. I was tall, somewhat heavily muscled. She was small—a feather, a leaf. Tired of stooping to kiss her, I grasped her slender thighs and hefted her up to my level. Squealing with surprise, she wrapped her legs tightly around my waist—so tight I could have let go and she wouldn't have fallen. But I didn't let go. I liked where my hands were, cradling her hot little ass, the tips of my middle fingers dipping slightly into her crack, my pinkies brushing up against her moist bush. I could have held. More

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