He is not really a boy anymore, he is a young man, but he is shy, he has kept to himself for as long as he can remember, he feels uncertain about the ...ways of the world. He knows he must keep moving, but he knows he has no hope of finding safety. He will not be forgiven nor forgot, there will always be a reward on his head that will far exceed the value of any fruits he may ever have stolen, and he will always stand out, always raise suspicion, as someone who has no business being there,. Dad always had the last word. "I wish!"Figuring that my folks wouldn't have thrown all my stuff out, I went to my room. Just as I had figured, the wardrobe was just as intact as I had left it. The only difference was that someone - and I had a pretty good idea it was Dad - had thrown away all my later swimsuits. Only a red suit that had been too small three years ago remained; I had no other choice but to put it on.Glancing at the mirror, I saw that there was the friendly neighborhood voyeur. While Dusty clearly shared the genes of beauty as her mother, and the athletic prowess of her dad, there had to be more to life than a pretty face and an ability to out hit and out run every boy in her class. If you saw Dusty and Holly together, one look told you that Dusty would be an extremely beautiful girl in a few years, more than extremely beautiful, even. And if you were so lucky as to observe her play on a tennis court, you knew that she would be the prettiest girl to play Centre Court. Reaching the far wall, he stopped and looked down at her. “Stand up,” he ordered.She rose off her hands and knees immediately only to have him shove her hard against the wall, her face turned to the side and pressed hard against the wall, held in place by her hair. Before a question could form in her mind he was upon her, his cock curved upward and wedged between her soft ass cheeks, one of his hands gripping her throat from behind while his other reached around, the fingers digging savagely.