It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t she find a nice guy, with whom she could feel safe, with whom she would feel ready? She was finally able to admit to ...erself that she didn’t want to do it with Peter because she knew, deep down, he wasn’t the one. She wasn’t a prude, she wasn’t frigid, she was a deeply sexual, sensual young woman. Part of her wanted nothing more than to just do it, to find a cock and jump on it and just come and come and come, she pleasured herself nearly every night, caressing. She didn't even glance up at me as I sat down. "Go away," she said. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, Lynda." "I'm miserable, okay? Does that make you feel any better?" "No, it doesn't. I'm not trying to hurt you, I just want to help." She looked up at me, a fire in her eyes that truly scared me. For a moment I thought she was going to attack me, and then it was gone and she looked back down at the puzzle pieces. "Don't you think you've 'helped' me enough?" "I'm sorry," I said as I. More

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