. Especially the way he wouldlook at me and talk to me. At that time in my life, I didn't recognizewhat cruising was but every time I talked to Don o... he spoke to me, I felta stirring in my crotch that frankly kind of confused me. I remember oneday on a Saturday when he rode a bicycle over to our house. My Dad wasn'thome so Don talked to me outside for an hour or so while I worked onweeding my Mothers flower garden. I can still remember Don as he sat on hisbicycle and gave me that dreamy. .. well, I heard her crying, she told me about how her father had been so ashamed of himself since that day, so I wound up curling my body up against her, talking to her of things I've learned in my battle with moral confusion, and resolved unto her that she would be a free, empowered, and wise woman, one who could be free with her sexuality but not used, abused, or a user and abuser -- a liberator, an empowerer of others, a leader in a moral quest to redeem feminine and masculine sexuality,. More

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