My fingers moved over his chest once. His head moved in response. To the side, in short-- timed -- jerks.I imagined dripping water over his body. Or h...t wax. I imagined him naked, vulnerable. I imagined giving him oral sex that would make him cringe, plead and beg.I imagined making him suck off each of my fingers. One. At. A. Time.Each time, longer than before. Hissing orders into his ear. Faster. Deeper. Wetter.Masturbating as I did. Sucking my own fingers clean. Tasting it.Instead, I. I masturbated. I found porn. My friends made copies of stuff and slipped it to me on burnt CD-ROMs disguised as music. (Which triggered a lecture on music piracy when those were discovered.) When the internet got big, she limited our access to it and had some weird-ass software installed on the router that blocked access to most pornography. It didn't completely stop me from watching porn when I wanted to, but it was an unnecessary hurdle. (Thanks Mom.) Thankfully, my Aunt Jenny was there to. More

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