The final letter was dated just days before the family would have left New York on the way to Arizona.The author was a young girl. Her handwriting was...beautiful. Every stroke of her pen was a unique work of art, and each word a masterpiece in itself. Wherever that child learned penmanship was not public school.Each letter was signed with her first name only – Cindi with an 'i', and each 'i' was crowned with a sweet, slightly off center, heart. For some reason I was captivated by her precision. Because i was getting higher by the second and 2 i didnt expect her to ever touch me. My body went really stiff and i nearly pulled away but she just giggled and asked whats the matter? havnt i ever been massaged before?I was starting to zone out a bit and said what i thought was way too much, about never really being touched by a girl or knowing what to do in these situations. Before i could even regret it she told me that it explained all this time she'd never seen my with a GF or anything. More

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