His smell intoxicates me. ‘There will never be enough time.’ ‘I know,’ my face looks up to his and I see everything, I was supposed to have bu... can’t. Turning away, my heart burning in my chest, my hands come up and cover my face and I feel myself jerk away from him. He is waiting, waiting for me. He gives me a moment to collect myself. We are both thinking the same thing, both of us suffering. I turn to him, my body, my soul, my heart, all of me throw themselves into his arms. Our hands move. I am hoping that all of the rumours about women’s professional tennis are true – that it is riddled through and through with voracious lesbians, ready to prey on any sweet young pussy that comes their way. They won’t have to try hard with me at all – just one look, one beckon of their little finger, and my panties will be off and I’ll be on my back with my legs spread open. I think I’ve always known that I’m a lesbian, and certainly for the last two or three years. I have posters on my. More

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