Perhaps that was my reason for being up, I wanted to confront him again and sit with him, as he did it, I was more than a year older from the last tim..., a girl with different feelings, and I knew how important, 'Wanking was', besides listening to my parents at it and knowing he was bold enough to do it the last time, made me both daring and wanton, my panties were now conveniently dropped in the washing basket, and my nudity was only covered by two inches of thin cotton t-shirt, so I pushed. You forgot what it’s like. Either that or you never knew. Probably dated some boy in school that didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. Probably some skinny Asian kid. A white boy if you were lucky. Not a real man. Am I right?” I didn’t answer, I just stared back at him, determined not to let his words seep in. “That’s a yes,” he said, smirking with a chuckle. “I know how much you liked watching that, despite yourself. You didn’t want to like it, but you did. You want it, you just don’t want . She'd been doing this since I went back to college my junior year - without having saved anything. That was 1963; now it was 1995.In the summer of 1963 I'd gotten a job working as a draftsman for an engineer for the summer. My folks were just moving to Chicago from Evansville because my father changed jobs. I was nineteen years old. I stayed behind in a small apartment. living on my own for the first time, cooking, doing my own laundry. I was even able to buy beer when I bought my week's. In the back of my mind I knew that school would be letting out and Amy would be coming home. Part of me was anxious to see her again but part of me was scared to as well. What if she had found someone else? What if our breakup kept going even with her home - I mean she would be going back to school in the fall and we'd be right back where we were now. Would she even want to see me and spend summer together... just to leave again in the fall? It was a Monday morning when Amy was due to arrive.