I was twelve when my father decided I was old enough to have the houseto myself until he got home from work rather than stay at the neighbor'shouse as...I had been doing. As soon as my chores and homework were done,I was on my bed stroking into tissues. It took two weeks before I hadan idea. I felt terrible for thinking it, but I couldn't help myself.I quietly went to my parent's room. The bedroom set my parents had wasthe same. I went over to my mother's long dresser with the mirror. I messaged her and we chatted for a while. I told her that I wasn’t able to sleep and she confessed that she had that problem, too. I decided that I would need to look some place else for the relief that I needed. Just as I was saying my good-byes, she stopped me. “Do you ever do anything on here to help you sleep?” she asked. “Yes, sometimes,” I confessed. Our fantasy took us for a walk on the beach where we made passionate love in my favorite secluded area. It was a little awkward at first,. More

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