The hands that had been so happy near my navel slipped irreversibly down my torso, over that expanse of firm clear skin to a small forest of dark curl... hair. Fingertips made their way through the forest, my mind remembering with another blush the way that I'd combed the hairs when I was younger. From when they'd first appeared, I'd tidied them, the bristles of the hairbrush lovely and sharp, painful at first, but in my control. I remembered the wonder, the guilt, and the glorious pleasure that. “Where’s Helen? Her car is outside,” my aunt said while looking around.While filling up the kettle, I smiled. “Helen’s gone to get something from the bedroom.”“Is that why the bedroom door is closed?” she quickly answered back. Coming closer to me, she whispers in my ear. “I like her a lot. Your dad was asking about you two as well.” Slapping me on the bum, she called out, “Come on Maria, let’s go, your cousin is busy!”Helen and I spent Sunday afternoon together. We did some gardening, as she. More

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