He broke slightly away from my now heaving chest, a hand reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of my face. I blushed. My knees went weak again. ...“Let’s go to your room,” David suggested, and I nodded, taking his hand, and leading him down the hall. Before we got to the bedroom door, David pulled on my hand forcing me to stop before bumping into me. We both laughed. He pushed me up against the wall again, he was firm, strong, in control but gentle. He put his face close to mine, he was. My own parents were divorced when I was just four and my mother remarried when I was about seven. My step-grandmother was a very classy lady, quite pretty and trim, who had been a judge's wife until he died of a heart attack about three years before my mother married her son.My grandmother took to me and I took to her, we just clicked, if you know what I mean. So, I spent a lot of time at her house, often overnight, sometimes with cousins, sometimes by myself.Her house would probably be called. More

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