I gave no reaction and acted sleeping. He then put his hand in my t.shirt and he lifted my t.shirt. He put his finger in my navel and fucked my navel ...or some time he then slowly went up and, put his hands over my bra. He held my breasts over the bra and massaged them for some time. Then slowly, he pulled out my left breast. He pinched it slowly. I was in seventh heaven.He then squeezed it. Slowly first, then harshly. He crushed them very much I felt pain. I still acted like sleeping. Now, he. I felt guilty for feeling guilty. Wasn’t that a form of self-pity after all? In all the trials we were experiencing, not once had Sushi (a nick name), ever employed self-pity. Hadn’t she been the strong one? Only crying at night when she thought I was asleep. I was not allowed to comfort her in these times, it was a private grief, but I wanted to hold her, cling to her and share the burden of emotion. I knew though, as she did, I would just unload my sorrow and guilt, heaping it on her too thin. More

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