I’d … I’d …’ ‘What would you do, Carl?’ My aunt’s voice was hypnotic, her eyes casting a spell. ‘If we were together, somewhere roma...tic.’ She reached out and touched my hair, her hand moving slowly down over my face. Hazel leaned forward, her fingers under my chin, her thumb sliding back and forth across my cheek. ‘Would you kiss me, Carl?’ Of their own accord, my hands went up to my aunt’s hips. We stayed like that for long seconds, an unmoving tableau, my aunt leaning over me, our eyes. " He stammered, as he looked at the tent in my lap for the first time. "I don't touch it much because my mom always tells me it's bad." "I know what you mean," I retorted. "My mom says the same thing all the time." I scoffed, quickly shifting my eyes from his lap back to the pictures.Following my lead, John began looking at the photos once again. Hesitantly he asked, "How good does it feel when you do rub it?" As I thought about how to respond to this question, I became intrigued with his. More

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