I felt ever so small, and so weak. I cherished those feelings too. I loved them.I looked up at him, and I felt like a submissive little girl. I knew t...at I would do whatever he wanted me to do, and I knew that I would like doing it. I wanted, no, craved the experience of doing whatever real girls were allowed to do. I wanted to know what it felt like to do what my mother had done. I wanted to know what it felt like to do what all the other girls my age were allowed to do. I wanted to know how. As we pulled apart she noticed a tentpole in my blue jeans. ‘You did have a good time, didn’t you?’ Sandy said, her voice a blend of a purr and petulance. ‘Can’t you tell?’ I grinned, pulling her closer again. ‘You’ll give me good dreams.’ ‘Wet dreams, I hope.’ ‘Naughty boy. Don’t let any Brooklyn girls grab you.’ ‘All for you my sweet.’ I swooned as the train clanked downtown. Frigid New Yorkers flipped through the early edition of the ‘Times’ and avoided eye contact. A stinky bum snored and. More

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