Me lurking behind the allotments. My parents would have had a fit if they knew I had the occasional fag, so would the teachers.We were both seventeen....I knew who Bianca was, and what the other boys called her; we went to the same school, after all, we just moved in completely different circles. Yet there she was. “Lend us a fag.”I hated it when people said that. They never actually meant ‘lend’, since there was never any intention of returning the favour. Especially not with Bianca. I knew. Her hands roamed my shoulders and chest, my neck and back, squeezing and feeling my powerful male muscles. I opened the top button of her blouse.She just stared at me through her puffy eyes.The second button. She breathed a little deeper, afraid but holding her ground.The third.She sat back and stared at me like a deer caught in a searchlight; surrendering to me. Then she yelped, jumped up, and ran to the door.She looked back at me fearfully. “I’m sorry but I just can’t.” She said.“That’s ok.”. More

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