..I stopped myself there. “This is not some bar slut throwing herself at you!,” I told myself. “This is some lost little girl.” The problem wa..., she didn’t look lost. She was breathing heavily, clearly nervous but, she walked with such determination. Then she looked at me, only for an instant, but in that instant I saw more than fear, though fear there was. I saw fascination, even a hint of desire. “It takes a really sick person to see desire in a look like that,” I told myself. I was about to. You met my Aunt May; she is a witch and one mean, tough, old bitch of a witch, why a few years back she caught me watching her and how she would finger play with one of her victims. I felt her anger for a month, and made me wear fall clothing to cover myself during the forth of July festival and county fair.”Hearing her tell of personal exploits so similar to my own, I cocked my head to give one halfway focused eye a glaring stare in her direction.“Believe it my friend; I sported eight duggets. More

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