"I look at everyone else and all I can do is hate them because they know where they are in their heads. They don't hate themselves for every minute of...their lives. They don't do THIS to themselves." He pulled up the sleeve on his right arm, up to the elbow. Exposing scars, old and new, that criss-crossed his upper arm. A couple were still scabbed with dried blood; they looked almost brand new."Oh Andy," I said, putting my arm around his shoulder and drawing him to me."It's not right!" he almost. The bra and panties were easy. Thepantyhose were something else. I ruined the first pair I tried to puton. She just shook her head and helped me with the second pair. Shealways wore long skirts, some were black and some were pretty prints.She chose a print for me. Then she picked one of her prettiest high-necked, long sleeved blouses. Then came the ever-present granny bootsand cameo necklace.I know the long skirt, high-necked blouse and granny boots don't soundsexy. But, for some reason. More

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