"Now," he said. "Let's get down to the important part: Who are you? What is your name?"Again a voice far away seemed to be screaming, "No!" My name is...James Edward Matthews," I answered."And how old are you?" Sixteen." Sixteen?" he said, sitting in an overstuffed chair and pouring a cup of tea as if we were just two old friends sharing lunch. Except, of course, that he didn't offer me a cup."Is that all?" He asked. "My word; I suspected you were young, but sixteen? I hadn't expected you to be. I was in agony and ecstasy at the same time, as my spasms continued until they subsided in his hand. It was then that he kissed me – on the back of the neck – as we lay there. I was just breathing heavily, catching my breath, as I hugged him closer to me, as an unspoken acknowledgement of affection for what he had just done. I thought that would be it.Quietly, he murmured my name and then said,“Will you let me do it to you?” He said the words with a kind of soft pleading in his voice and I. More

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