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It is this reason that I jumped at the chance to date a friend of one of my buddy’s girlfriends. She was a lot younger than me and hotter than hell. It was summer, hot outside, and we went to the lake so I could teach her to fish. As I stood behind her, I put my arms around her to help hold the fishing pole. I could smell her hair and perfume. The way she dressed let me know that she was no stranger to flirting with men. She had on a silk tank that was at least a size too small, and a skirt. As I helped her with her casting, she would shift her weight from one leg to the other. While she did this, she continually rubbed her ass against the front of my pants. This was getting me rock hard, though I didn’t want her to know that. We finished our fishing and grabbed a bite. I learned that she had already had quite a few boyfriends in her meager 22 years. When we finished, we went back to her apartment. She invited me in, which I gleefully accepted. We sat and talked on the sofa, sipping. I asked her and she don’t want no help. She’s scared.’ ‘Hanny I promise to not let anything bad happen to her but let me see her and talk to her and if she says no, then I promise to leave it. Ok.’ ‘You promise?….only she’s got a fever and the pain killers I got her aren’t helping.’ ‘Come on Hanny show me where she is.’ Taking the last gulp of her cup of tea the girl stood up. ‘She’s not far from here. Come on.’ * Walking into the back of the arch, stepping over the discarded and dirty refuse that littered the area, Kelly squinted as she passed from the light to the shadowed and dingy depth of the old Victorian arch that formed part of the railway line running eventually over the bridge across the River Thames. The smell was sour, stale sweat mingled with the sweet pungent smell of smoked spliffs. Cardboard covered the floor at the back of the arch along with a discarded shopping trolley filled with a mish-mash of belongings acting as a kind of closet. At the back of the arch, lying.
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