Around her neck she wore a silver crucifix which she rubbed between her finger and thumb, and mumbled her prayers, asking for forgiveness. Forgiveness...for what had happened to her and what she wanted to do. She too was seeing Counsellors to help her come to terms with the abuse, but unlike Katrina she was not making progress, and her hate and need for revenge was taking on an enormous part of her thoughts. For her to get back her life she would need to take another route, a route that she was. I watched her tight dancers as sway until she was out of site. She was gone for what seemed like quite a while and I was starting to get worried about her. I walked down the trail a little and could see her talking to three guys that were unloading their mountain bikes. She was smiling and moving around showing off her body to them. She smiled and headed back my way. The three all made obscene gestures as they watched her walking away. I went back to camp and waited for her to return. . My sexual experiences, up until that time, could be counted on one hand. In fact my sexual experiences were with that one hand!I had only just learned the pleasures of masturbation, when I first saw my Mum's gorgeous body in the bathroom and felt urges that only a teenager can feel.I remember thinking that if I could just touch one of those beautiful firm breasts or even better let my fingers play with the mass of pubic hair, I would be in my element. My Mum knew nothing of my fantasies and I. I notice a pair of matching lace panties that must havefallen out from within the folded garment. Well, in for a penny, in fora pound. I pull them on and then I sit down on a padded stool and rollthe nylon pantyhose legs up as I extend a leg to pull the hose over myfoot and smooth it up my leg. I then perform the same ritual on my otherleg.Just yesterday, I shaved my legs for the very first time. I had left myrazor on the sink and Rachel's razor was hanging the shower with me, nowall wet. Not.