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” And he was a beautiful boy—slender and lithe. Under five and a half feet. He’d moved like a dancer on his skateboard. Curly blond hair in a mo... of a halo around his angelic face. He was wearing shorts and a T-shirt that clung to his divinely proportioned body. He’d be the perfect artists’ model for what I sketched and painted. “You did say you were fourteen, didn’t you?”“Ja, Ich bin vierzehn—Yes, I am fourteen. But I have experience. Ich verstehe, was Sie wollen—I understand what you want.”. "I hate boys! They suck! All of them! Every single one of them!" She beat her small fist violently on the mattress beside her head, starting painfully. She had punched too close to her head and caught her own hair. She rubbed at her scalp, pouting.Michael's eyes were drawn unwillingly to the significant amount of right thigh that his daughter was showing. Her dress had ridden almost up to her panties. The sight made him want to gulp. He tried, not quite successfully, to keep his eyes on her. More

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