“Only one?” I moaned brattily.“And I think it should be me,” She explained. She moved against me, her hand wasn’t soft, it was calloused on ...he fingers and palms. Sexually, she communicated experience, patience and mastery. Her eyes looked deep into mine. I was struck by the way she was coming to me, “You’re young, uncertain, unskilled. You need an education.”“But,” I was smug, “You’re a coach. You should watch from the sidelines and step in when I can improve my game.”“There are girls here not. However, she figured that he was just gay, nottranssexual. And she was always there for him as a shoulder to cry on. Iknow Morris was devastated when she died. He ran away from home a littlewhile later after that, and I didn't hear from him 'til he started workingdown at the club." "How old was he when she died?" "Eighteen. He had just finished high school. There was nothing left tohold him here." "What about your dad?" "He sort of gave up on Morris. He tried when Morris was eleven ortwelve to. More

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