' I remember that she cried, and she pushed me away from her. I remember that. I can see the whole thing now by closing my eyes." But, from that day o... I always thought of myself in connection with the Russian rapists. Always. When I was thirteen and I had the first desire of sex, I turned it off. I did not want to be like the Russians. I did not want to hurt any woman as I had seen them do my mother." Then we escaped to the West. My mother and me. I never knew, never saw my father to my. "What's up? I asked "is something wrong? You two look worried.We, or really, I want to ask you for a big favor." Paula said. "I already asked Beth and she said she was fine with the idea but it's up to you." I told her that I would do about anything they asked me to, as long as it was legal and o.k. with both of them.Paula continued by saying "you might not think so when I tell you but like I said, it's your decision. It's about my cousin. She's who I'm supposed to be spending the weekend with.. Fuck your teenage neighbor!" "The teenage street whore, you mean." "Am I Mr. Wilson?" You're such a good fuck," he told me. "Your tight little whore pussy is so wet!" He folded my legs up and leant his weight against them as leverage, fucking me real deep, really opening me up. "Shit, you’re worth getting my ass caught, while I fuck you!" Ungh!" I grunted, unused both to the position and the level of penetration. "So deep. My pussy feels so full. God that's good.. I’d welcome my birthdays until my vanity had gone, along with my looks. Maybe a man would love me and, with his years, wouldn’t mind my ruin. We could rest on a park bench. We could talk about funny little things that only we knew. He could look at the pretty girls. I wouldn’t care for I’d do the same with the boys, and we’d pretend they passed, unnoticed. And so that’s me, George. I’m pretty and I’m horrible. I tell truths and the opposite and I connive like a bitch. I have room for lust but.