She read me poetry, from a small leather bound book, poetry she had written, some I had read before but all new with her voice, and her hand stroking ...y hair as I listened and she read. I rested my head on her knee. Her poems are dark, opening my mind to both her desires and my own. As she read my knickers became wet, that delicious wet that only silk can give. My nipples hardened and pushed, brushed against the silk of my blouse. She noticed, I know she did. She finished reading and closed the. Please, Sara. You have to know."The pleading, loving look in her friends convinced Sara that Becky was right. When Becky stood up and grabbed her hand to guide her to the Becky and Jenny's parent's bedroom she didn't protest. Nor did she protest when Becky opened the door to the now twilight darkened bedroom where Jenny lie still sleeping. She was a bit amazed to see that Jenny was naked and that she had a teddy bear wedged between her thighs, but she'd heard and been made to understand too. More

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