I couldn't even describe her butt--I would have to think about it to describe it. Her breasts bounced every step she took on the ladder going up and c...ming down. My phone rang--thank God.I went inside to answer it. "Mr. Rawlings. You have three students you are tutoring. One of our tutors has had to leave the program. Would you be willing to take on three more? These students are younger and need help in English grammar mostly. They won't be starting until the day after the Fourth of July." Can. I'm not talking the woman; Il Tenore was known for his 'tantrums'. So far, on this trip, he'd been on good behavior, but Lord only knew when he'd explode.I saw someone with whom I was familiar, the principal violinist who was also the concert mistress. She was an old friend of mine and I flagged her down. I asked her to make the introductions and we all made small talk. It's obvious, at least to me that Lou was trying very hard not to gush all over Il Tenore. He, of course, basked in her. Pulling the skin back and forth, watching the head disappear and reappear. “You like what you see?” “Aha” Carlos pulled her hand away. “Baby you’re getting me to excited.” Carlos pulled her up on the bed and slowly started to unbutton her blouse, kissing each new area of her skin that was exposed. First between her breasts, then all the way down to her belly button. He then lowered her skirt and he slowly took of her panties. He saw the prettiest and darkest patch of hair covering her lips.. Ilooked at Mother, a tear still rolling down my cheek and opened up toher."I don't want to be your son; I want to be your daughter."Mother and I sat for awhile in silence. I was comfortable but so veryscared and nervous about what she would think about my confession. Shetook me by my hand and led me into her bedroom. I took my seat at hervanity. While Mother and I did not speak and were both silent I believedI made the right decision about telling her I wanted to be her daughter.I sat quietly.