“Hi, my name’s Mark. What’s yours?” “Ah, my name’s Kellie,” I squeaked. Mark smiled. “You’re really pretty. Can I buy you a drink?�... For some reason I was a little nervous. My mouth went dry; I twirled my long blond hair. I played hard to get the best I could. It was fun watching him work to get me. I was drawn by his confidence not to mention his gorgeous looks and I knew what I wanted could be found in his jeans. But it wasn't until after a few drinks and several glances at the bulge in his. The four of us stand silently outside His office attwo o'clock that afternoon. A silent, sweating line. Since I had the lowestgrade, I have to wait until after the other three girls. I don't remember themwell except that two are blond and real cute and the third is, like me, anOriental. But my stomach is churning too much to really do much thinking. Thesethoughts and memories fill my mind as I click and clack after Him this evening.Him and His lumbering gait. Down that damn dim basement hall. More

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