“God, Gerry. This is hard for me.” “What is?” He stood. The waver in her voice, the strain, the hint of anguish, made him want to comfort her....But he dare not touch her. “I’m not used to having to make the first move.” “First move?” “I…I’ve had a crush on you since I moved in.” If a wrecking ball had swung in from nowhere and slammed into his chest, it couldn’t have been more effective in knocking the wind from him. “I know you like me. The hungry way you look at me. The noble way you try not. He gave me a warm smile, and smacked my ass hard."I'm gonna wash up again, wait for me in my room. We've gotta chat."I nodded and slipped out the front of the shower and dried off, not bothering to put on my cummy boxers as I went across the hall to my brother's room. I layed on the bed and just stared at the ceiling, wondering what exactly the talk would be about. Besides the obvious incest thing that had gone on today, I couldn't imagine what else he might want to say to me. Before my mind. “Start by lightly running your finger across the mound above your pussy. Class, what do we call this area?”The teacher was going to use the time for some basic anatomy review as well.“Mons ... Mons Pubis”“Good job class!”“Continue with the light tough and move your hand lower, rubbing your vulva gently.”“Can you see how the area is beginning to swell, this is the first sign of arousal.”“Start near the opening to your vagina and run your finger between the labia until you reach your clitoris.”At. ME: You don’t look much like an anarchist to me.NICKI: I’ll have you know ... I guess I’ll have everyone know. Can we do this without exposing my entire left tit on television? [Pulls her blouse open enough to show the black rose tattoo.] I’ve proudly worn an anarchist’s black rose for years. I used to dye my hair black and wear it straight. Goth makeup. Black clothes or army surplus. Combat boots. The works. Then my hearthmate and the mother of your child—or children—Liz got hold of me and.