She thought of how they had once been so happy themselves, how they'd spend hours in bed, touching and kissing and talking. She couldn't get out of he... mind how nice he felt when she ran a hand over him, the texture of his muscles and bones. How long ago had that been? What had caused the rift? Had she really pushed him away? She hadn't meant to. It was hours before she finally fell asleep.Before breakfast she turned her computer on and found a new email waiting for her.>It was too much effort. She wore black, thick-framed glasses and had long brown hair past her shoulders and she was, as Martha said, cute. She looked younger than sixteen. She was highwaisted, a little thick in the legs, and was freckled and had a sweet, wide smile at all times. Her voice was rather husky, but soft, and she talked easily and slowly. Above all, she was almost irritatingly polite. At first it seemed like a pose, but as the lunch wore on I saw that she was so steadily proper and soft-spoken that it had. I was brought out of my reverie for a moment when I felt Joanne sliding one finger down along the crack of my ass, brushing across my anus, almost down to my pussy. ‘Do you like that?’ she whispered. My body tensed for a brief instant as I tried to figure out the meaning of her question. Joanne slid her hands down from my ass and along my thighs and she instantly sensed a tightening of my muscles there. ‘Your thighs could use a bit more loosening up,’ she said. ‘Lie on your back for me,’ she. Looking back, it will be easy for you to tell which one.As you mature, you pick it up slowly. The topic of the leech is too smutty and taboo even for college humor - you start to hear the smallest of indirect references, but no one says anything up front about it. You begin to be aware, though, of something on the fringe, a spectre of discomfort with the category of thoughts you had unquestioningly believed were normal... and then you decide that this spectre must have a name. Most figure out.
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