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and now I can't even remember --
A flash of movement in the brightly lit window across the dark
street from the Chinese Hand Laundry my grandparent's run. Yes, there he
is, cleaning up the coin-op laundry. How can he *be* so hot and not know
it? I suppress a groan of frustration and want as I watch his muscles
ripple under the sweat-soaked tee-shirt, his butt flex, so cute and hard
in old denim cutoff shorts. I feel the itch between my legs, the
throbbing of my no-boob nipples.
"Come on, missy, we hurry up now."
"Yes, Grandmother."
I gather my books, reluctant to leave the view of him, but not
resenting my grandparents. They have taken me in and raised me kindly
and generously since I was 11 months old and smuggled out of China.
Besides, they could not suspect a 12-year-old girl -- who looks three
years younger -- of having such desires and feelings.
I step outside, books under my arm. Tomorrow is Saturday, but to
Grandmother, that is no r
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