Cammie was a beautiful thirteen-year-old. She was going to be tall, already about five-eight, breasts that were slightly more than a handful, and I ha...e big hands, though I'd never gotten them on Cammie's melons. Her hair was black as midnight. Right now she had a short, almost boyish cut, but it used to hang just below her shoulders. A few light freckles and a break in her left eyebrow completed the picture. The break came from a bicycle accident when she was six. Cammie hated it, but I. I mouth the words of a song I know by heart. Something about it makes me feel so incredibly sexy. As the music that only I can hear swells to the chorus, I flip my hair back, dancing all by myself as he sings about his desire. ‘Well I’m not paralyzed /but I seem to be struck by you. I want to make you move /because you’re standing still.’ My body feels liquid as I float around the room delighted by the air caressing my bare skin. The ghostly words of Finger Eleven’s song seducing my mind and. More

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