"Oh, you like dressing like a girl, huh?" Yes!" Do you like it when the boys do this?"She pinched my brastrap and gave it a good snap. My hand went to...y shoulder. It really stung."I don't mind," I lied."Well, how about when they do this?"She grabbed the hem of the dress and hiked it up way above mywaist. I grabbed it from her and pulled down the dress. I lookedaway form her, ashamed and embarrassed. I didn't know what to sayto her, and I was terrified I might start crying.Mrs. Peterson looked. The longer I stared, the more I became desperate to feed my growing obsession at all cost.Growing up, Mom and I traveled quite a bit. Wherever we were, it wasn’t unusual for me to pull out my camera and get her to pose for me out in public. She’d always been the type of mother who gladly encouraged any hobby I developed, especially my growing interest in photography. Eventually, I managed to collect dozen of pictures, all of which focused on her long, gorgeous legs. I was certain she never. More

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