I sat there astonished at the development of this young man. Not long ago was he small and scruffy. But now, he was an adult, having turned 18 not two weeks ago. His stride was confident. The sun lit up his tanned face and dark hair hanging over his forehead. I could only see him for a man. A man I so dearly desired.
James, eighteen, was tall, tanned and strong. His black hair was fashioned into a classic cut which reminded me of my husband. From time to time, during the hot Melbourne Summer, I let him use my pool when it was just too hot. I could see him without his clothes. His flesh. His... Continue»