Was I in the bath? Or did I imagine it? The mirror is still above me but now the glass is frosted. The tingling warmth in my lower body is growing str...nger. I kick back the damp sheets. I stroke my nipples: I circle each areola, gently pinch each teat. Then I can bear it no longer and I’m reaching down, caressing my chest, my stomach, my mound.I run my fingers through my pubic hair. The dream is authentic in this detail: although I always trimmed my hair short as a teenager, I only started to. You gave me your number and I looked at it all day before finally caving in and sending you a text. It takes a few days but we finally make arrangements and you came to my house, thankfully this gave me time to coach my mind and body to control its self. I tell myself over and over, “Don’t let him touch you. If he touches you it is over, you know you won’t be able to resist. Don’t do it. He’s only in town for the week and then he will be walking out of your life again.” You came in and sat. A point of contention with her, and which also caused her a great deal of anguish and embarrassment were her breasts. As she had a petite frame, and thin waist, her breasts, even under the baggy peasant blouses that she wore, were prominent. Large, round and firm. She dreaded the visits into town to buy tortillas and vegetables and having to endure the endless stares and leering glances from the male townsfolk.Miguel, who ran the town's only market, was especially dreadful. He smelled like a. “You liked that, huh?” smirked Heather. She climbed off Robby’s torso and swiveled around, stretching out at his side. It was an odd pairing she thought briefly, his tall and gangly frame resting next to her shorter and more voluptuous build.Robby instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her against him. “Jesus!” he exclaimed. “Where ... how ... when ... where did you learn to do that?”A look of concern came to her pretty face. “Robby, you can’t tell anyone about that!”The boy.