Well," she paused to think and give me a more serious answer. "In 8th grade my history teacher, Mr. Garcia." I felt a slight pang of sudden protective...jealousy. 8th grade was the year Bethie blossomed. I was sure Mr. Garcia, whom I remembered vaguely as an odd but friendly man, noted it, too. How could he not have? Overnight her little girl breasts had suddenly become those of a woman. It was a turning point in my own life, the first stirrings of my sexual awareness of her. As she worked I. A slight breeze caught her hair and brown strands of it flew across her face as she jumped into the water.When she came up, she was shivering.‘Damn that water is cold’ she said, rivulets of water running down her face.‘You call that cold’ I said grinning broadly, cautiously moving away from her.‘I’ll get you’ she said as she dived under the water, took hold of my feet and pulled me under.………………………………………………………………………………………………After several minutes of fooling around, we were both exhausted. He. More

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