She pushed me away and opened her shirt, then pulled me to her nipple and I suckled it, gently to begin with but with increasing vigour as she pressed...me to her. Once more she pushed me away and said, ‘I want you mouth on my pussy, Kitty. I should maybe say, kitty, Kitty, no?’ She laughed as I dropped to my knees. I wanted my mouth on her now. I was intoxicated, aroused, abandoned. I would have let her do anything. I gave her my mouth without any finesses; I just sucked and licked and squeezed,. I don’t remember my father much, just that he had long dark curly hair, dark eyes that always seemed to glisten and what I now know to be an athletic body. He died whilst I was quite young. My mother struggled to make ends meet after his death and worked as much as she could but made sure that her “little treasure” (me) was always her first priority. I don’t recall missing out on much until about 10 years old but I wasn’t unique in not having a father around. Mum had a friend, called Lila, whom. More

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