“I never said I was complaining,” he replies, kissing the back of my neck as I slide back up and then down again. “However, your pace is just te...sing,” he says, tightening his grip on my breast and rolling onto his stomach, keeping me prone beneath him.“Gently, Sam. I have to walk to work this morning,” I murmur, resting my head on my arms as he raises himself behind me, pressing my legs open so he can kneel between them, his long length still between my thighs. He lifts my hips so I’m almost. Coney was the great amusement park in the sky and I’m still enjoying that day. There was also a mid-winter 17 degrees f. day on which I just didn’t feel like going to school. We spent the day going from apartment house lobbies to candy stores to alleys to keep warm until three o’clock when we could go home. I still love him for doing that with me. I take out my compact and attempt to fix my face. Inevitably I see the small scar on my right cheek: the scar I got when I fell off the green Schwinn. More

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