My willyirrupted it. It was getting hard 'cause my Daddy's fingers had found mybutt crack. I was embarrassed; I didn't want my Daddy to feel my hard-o... against him. And so I agreed to his brushing my hair. That way Icould turn away from him. There must have been a thousand brushstrokes.It felt so wonderful that I told my Daddy I'd wear a hair band any dayhe brushed my hair.That turned out to be every day ? at least whilst my mama was away ?because my Daddy loved brushing my hair. He said it. I met Dusty when we were 13. He moved from another state. He towered above all of the other boys in our class at 6' 1". He was so big we called him Dusty Mountain. He had a full five o clock shadow and probably outweighed every other guy in the class by 60 or 70 pounds. There was an empty seat next to me and the teacher sat him there. I soon learned that he was really cool. We both liked AC/DC and Iron Maiden. I started helping him with his schoolwork and soon, would go to his house. More

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