"Is that how you feel, too," she asked Emily.Emily thought for a moment and answered."No, not entirely," she said. "I want to scratch your fucking eye... out. You've done everything but pop naked out of Joe's refrigerator. You walk into his house uninvited. You rub up on him like you're his cat. I thought today at the pool you were going to try to hump him in the water when you wrapped your arms and legs around him. He's my boyfriend. If I thought he wanted to be with you, I'd let him go to you.. I kept catching him looking at me throughout the meeting, but he'd turn his head as soon as we'd make eye contact.During a break he came over to make small talk and he sat next to me at lunch. While the rest of the guys talked sports, he asked me about my job. "How do you like it? "How long have you worked here?" etc. By the afternoon I was kind of flustered by his attention. Finally, I twisted my body a half turn, placed my knees together, and bent my legs back, tucking my ankles up near. I felt so aroused as I looked at her and noticed her ice cream sandwich melting in her hand. Then, a naughty idea to tease her popped into my head. "Let me test the water," I said to myself, smiling.I bent my head and pulled her hand to me. I start slowly licking the melted ice cream on her fingers. Observing her reaction, I knew she was getting aroused. Her nipples were so hard and full, almost bursting beneath her top. The tips of her ears and her cheeks were getting pinkish.I kept licking. (I actually got it to 5 pages, but scrapped that attempt.) I chose to not do that. I have said what I wanted to say. In this case, I wanted to write about someone who was abused and got back at the more ‘powerful’ abuser, and do it publically. The victim was not to allow the shame of homosexual rape (and the expected photos to blackmail him) from stopping him getting back. I wanted to write about a single incident that stated or implied so much more, with significantly fewer words. This does.