I go my own way, and still they hate me. Why can't they justleave me alone?" Perhaps they lack your imagination," I suggested."What's that supposed to...mean?" How do you see yourself?" He looked confused, so I added, "when you lookin the mirror, do you see Timothy or Skyla?" I'm Skyla," he said simply."You don't see your body at all?" I know what I am on the inside." Okay. You have an image of yourself--a self-image--that no one else cansee, right?" He nodded. "That's what is called imagination.. Your tongue would skim the lacy edge of my panties and I’d stroke your hair while mouthing ‘Please…’ My legs would fall open like a flower for you and your hands would sit on the tops of my thighs while you kiss my center. I would be so wet—for this, for you. You know what I like, and you know how I like it and you’d go down on me until my eyes couldn’t roll back any further, until I couldn’t gasp anymore, until my heartbeat thudded so loud it practically echoed and all I could say was your. More

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