Frozen in the front sat of my uncles 57 Chevy with the
sister of the girl my uncle snuggled with in the back seat at a drive-in for a film
none of us cared to watch, my uncle already getting to third base, while I
still struggle to get to first, frozen, he and his girlfriend figuring that at
13 I ought to get a taste of it, and I wanted it too, imaging what this girl –
thirteen too—might taste like if we kissed and how soft or hard her breasts might
be if I could muster courage to slip my fingers between the buttons of her blouse,
and, my uncle and his girl, thinking I’m too embarrassed to do it in front them
– skip off to the concession stand to give me time to do it, while I’m still frozen,
perfectly aware of this girl’s pretty pink painted lips and how pointed her breasts
are, all an open invitation if only I could make myself move, aching in my
frozen shape when I can’t.
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