Wilson smiled at Sarah. Smart and feisty. He liked that. “Succulent,” he declared. “Moist and juicy. One look at her succulent lips compromised...the firmness of his untested scruples.” Sarah felt her insides grow warm from her arousal. She rose from her seat and walked toward the teacher’s desk. She slowly ran her fingers through his gray-black hair and brought his face close to hers. “Acquiesce, ” she whispered into his ear. “To agree without protesting.” Sarah gently clutched onto his right. And as we rubbed our shirts in the dirt below the treehouse, stamping on them with nervous delight, I thought silently to myself of figuring out a way to sneak one of magazines home, to occupy myself at night. I'm sure that Mark was thinking the same, but for now, it would have to wait.Chapter Three:Mark and I spent the remainder of that week, as well as the next, doing pretty much the same thing; sneaking away every available minute we could to our hideaway and enjoying the thrills of looking. More

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