When he heard a quiet yes, he picked up the pile and took them to the washer. He noted the blood on them and the tears in the fabric, and he placed th...m in the washing machine. When he returned to the living room, Sara stood facing him in the clothes he had given her. Thank you for washing them, he said with barely hidden embarrassment. He ogled her lustfully. Her bra had been torn during the rape, to her nipples stood out lightly through the thin tee shirt he had given her. The pants were. He has always been there for me and guides me when it comes to boys. He's also the first person who spoke to me about masturbation. If he hadn't, I wouldn't be the little horny being I am now. As I lay in my bed, I find myself fantasizing about Robert. I shiver at the thought of his light touch on my forearm when he wants to make a point. That small, innocent gesture transforms itself into an erotic act which makes me long for him even more. Then, I see his shape in front of me. I first notice. More

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