Then the blonde sixth-grader laboriously turned to her back. Now she could stare at the ceiling. Bur for the whispered voices around her she could ima...ine she were alone in her bed. Keeping her knees bent and up, feet apart, she lay still. The hem of her nighty remained twisted around her waist, giving the boys a good view of her underpants.They were pink and brief and tight -- the crotch a little damp, she knew -- and probably gaping a bit at her tendons. She knew they had a lot to look at,. This won't hurt... in fact I think you'lllike it," she stroked my face."Just keep standing still for a little while longer," she whispered in myear.I was surprised when Mrs Cashmore opened a drawer in the vanity and beganto take out cosmetics which she placed in the order that she intended touse them."I'll do this today but you will have to learn to it yourselfeventually," she muttered as she began what would soon become acommonplace ritual.She applied liquid foundation to my face with a small. More

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