She herself seemed hypnotized by my own spellbound reaction. We fell into unalloyed devilishness, as if demons within us had generated a chain reactio... neither of us could not stop. She wouldn't let up. The lust in her eyes and her voice met mine, mine met hers, and they fused. We were glued to it, tangled it in. I kept hearing the nuns and the aunts and relatives warning me, but all their screaming voices together could not drown the tantalizing whispers of Martha Jane. And the more my eyes. I wasn't expecting the pair of us to do anything fancy, like a Tango or the Rumba, but we had both worked on several routines for jitterbugging, which we had performed together at the Spring dance recital. Because Clara was so light, there were three or four different throws that we had been able to do together. It was probably just a case of me wanting to show off that made me even think about doing them. I was still worried about getting hazed by the upperclassmen at the dance. If Clara and I. More

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