Then Paul’s hand moved slowly over the soft flesh until his fingers were inside the leg of Ronnie’s shorts. Still not entirely sure if he was misi...terpreting the signs or not, he slid his fingers round the curve of the limb until they were spread across the yielding flesh of Ronnie’s inner thigh, his fingertips just brushing the fabric of the boy’s underpants. There was another pause, during which Paul became acutely aware of the tickling sensation growing in his crutch and was prompted to inch. “Like what you see?” she asked, having cast aside herpants. I nodded. She turned around, giving me a goodlook at her curvy figure, then bent down to pick herclothes up. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Show’s over, isn’t it?” I shook my head, “In what porno films do they keep theirunderwear on?”Again she stared at me, but this time she didn’tprotest. She reached behind her back to unclasp her bra,then slowly let the straps slip. They woresleeveless shirts showing of muscular arms and tattoos. Alicia thoughtthey looked absolutely sexy. She also knew they were part of the gang. Alicia's brother was a member of a local gang. Most young Latinos inthis neighborhood were. Their mother hated it and often berated him aboutit, but there was nothing she could do. Between working two jobs to keepthe roof over their heads and food on the table, she wasn't around thatmuch. Right now she was at work and would be out till. What was it like growing up in an orphanage?"I decided that the only defense here was going to be smothering her in details, instead of keeping quiet. "Imagine living in a long, narrow room, with ten cots lined up against one wall. Beside each cot was a four-drawer dresser that contained everything – every single thing – that belonged to you. Then imagine that every time one of the other boys wanted what was in your dresser drawers, he just stole it, and beat you to a pulp if you mentioned it.