She introduced herself as Heather. She was wearing a plain t-shirt and black sweats and her hair was drawn up under a baseball hat. Simple make-up. We...exchanged pleasantries and small talk and she went on her way. For the rest of fall, I would periodically see her walking and she always stopped to talk to me. I actually looked forward to our little visits and started to fantasize about her sometimes. A harsh winter came and our visits stopped. I would find myself lookingout the window to catch. She was behind me instantly, rubbing my arse in a too familiar way."What did you do that for?" I accused her."You're hurt." Of course I am," I said. "You would be too, if you dropped from a tree." No," she said. "Your stab wound."I must have turned four shades of red. She held the cheeks of my bum open and was staring at my arse hole."That's my arsehole, silly." Was it possible she could be that naive.She pressed a finger lightly against it. "It doesn't hurt?"It didn't hurt. As a matter of fact. More

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