As I decided to find out for certain if I was correct and stood, I again felt that peculiar flutter in my stomach, the same feeling I remembered havin... when I asked her to the homecoming dance, when I was a smallish 15 and shy. I walked the 25 feet to where she sat, glancing over at Miss Wild Child, who had turned in her chair, and was giving me a sly come hither look, complete with a steady opening and closing of her legs, the classic motion of a wild child who was looking to fuck, but not. ”“Why not?” She sat there quiet for a second. I could tell that she couldn’t think of a good answer.“Well you just can’t. It’s wrong.”“Why is it wrong? I mean dad left you and I don’t know why. I mean you’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I would never leave you because I appreciate you, but you can have sex with him and other guys who don’t care about you, and not me.”“Now you’re talking about sex? Son that is definitely wrong. You need to stop…”She paused mid-sentence, as she. More

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