“Won’t Marcie be worried that you’re not home yet?” “No, she’s gone out shopping for the afternoon.” “Oh, so we have some time to,” ... pause, “chat.” Frank sets his glass on the coffee table and leans back on the couch, deliberately displaying the bulge in his khaki shorts. I let my gaze fall to his lap, knowing he is watching me. Slowly, I trail the tip of my tongue across my lips and look into his eyes. “Like I said, I really want to thank you for all your help.” “How about a nice card from. I was at least fifteen years older than this beautiful young man, and I was sure he saw me as an adult who would judge him harshly because of his self-abuse. Or worse: I might tell someone what I had seen.I had not said a word; I stood there looking into his eyes, hoping to ease his anxiety and to decide what I should do. Without making a conscious decision I reached down to the bottom of my tee shirt and in one smooth motion I slid it over my head and stood there before him bare-breasted. At. More

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