My natural air of melancholy was often mistaken for unhappiness caused by some trouble, hence my fellow students always tried to cheer me up in vain. ... knew exactly the cause of this melancholy: I was in love, not with a particular person, but with the notion of love and masculinity. My burgeoning body longed to be touched, kissed, dominated. Its thirst demands to be quenched by a virile body. Every night, in the dark silence of the night, my hand would caress my entire body and experience the. She nodded her head in acknowledgement but kept drilling. We weren'tlucky about renting the equipment she needed and ended up drivinghalfway across New Jersey before finding the portable backpack drilland accessories needed to do the job. It was designed for boringthrough rocks so the ground of the cemetery was very easy to deal with.We had dressed in workmen's coveralls and started early in the morningand had almost reached our target when the maintenance man caught upwith us."WHAT THE FUCK. More

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