I couldn't help fantasizing about what he looked like naked. I suppose I was a little too deep in my fantasy, because he grabbed my hand, and asked me...again. You don't remember me, do you? I'm David, and use to live on your street. I remember you now I told him. As it turned out, he grew up a few doors down from me, in the neighborhood where my ex-wife lived. My wife and I divorced about 12 years prior, as we were really not compatible, and were unable to have c***dren. David and I started. ”“Sure, fine,” I said. There wasn’t much question I was fourteen. I was short for even fourteen—and skinny—but I was starting to fill out in my chest and biceps. I worked out. I wanted people to stop saying I was almost too pretty to be a boy. My aunt who I lived with in Norfolk had sprung for a gym membership, trying to give me what I kept bugging her about on building myself up. Other than that, she pretty much left me alone. She didn’t know anything about raising kids. She just couldn’t let. More

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