I needed the timer to tell me when to stop. I had never been able to do it on my own. I scared my mother once when I was eight. She tried to punish me...when I got lost in my guitar by taking it away from me. My two days of not eating or drinking scared her more. My mother tried to drive me to other things; martial arts, singing lessons, piano lessons, and anything else that might break the hold my guitar had over me.Nothing ever replaced my guitar.I got up early to practice for a half-hour. "I can't hear anything," I whispered."Shhh! If you can't shut up I'll have to shut you up!" he whispered hoarsely and pressed his lips against mine.I felt the groan in the back of his throat and heat from his body. He kept his lips locked on mine and then I felt him slowly start to rub himself against me, his member thickening in his jeans and pushing against my lower body. Steve's hands came up and pressed my arms tight against my body in a vice-like grip as he continued to kiss me and move. More

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