" He's hefting the crotch of his jeans, hisbasket of goodies, as they say. "You don't want a cookie?" I say, playing not coy, but for time. "Listen," ...e says.I listen; nothing follows. His radio breaks the silence, crackling, a voice coming from his belt.He doesn't answer it. I guess it's not for him. Or he's listening to amessage coming from beneath his belt. And this one is for him.He takes my wrist, firmly, having made a decision. He jerks me alongbehind him. Into the living room we go. "How. They said start and I opened my mouth and took it in. The smell wasn't bad and the taste was actually alluring so I wasn't thrown off by having to bob on it. I actually caught myself licking his head and circling it on the top of the stroke. When the minute was up I took one last long slow stroke up while looking at him eye to eye. As if saying I loved it, and I did. The next day my best friend (we will call him L) called me and wanted to talk. It was Saturday so his parents weren't home so I. But my favorite aunt was gravely ill, and I had to see her before she died.I've always had a talent for making unpleasant things go away. In the fifth grade it was an especially nasty bully who had singled me out for his attentions. In desperation, I wished, wished as hard as I could, that he would just disappear out of my life. The following day he didn't show up at school. The police searched for months, but he was never found.Aunt Agatha was the only one who ever understood me. My parents. The only reason I mention this is, it is a very small world. Fifteen years after I graduated High School, I was working as a Contractor at the US Naval Air Station, Sigonella, Italy. Sigonella is a very small base, but because of its location right in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea it is also one of the more US Naval Bases in Europe. Since it was a small base located away from any large city, or even a small town. There was not a lot to do.The big game on base was working on Undergraduate.