She was crying too hard. He prompted her, raising her face up so she looked at him."I can't hear you if you bury your face in your arms," he told her...."Come on, can't you tell me?" You mom hates me!" she repeated, sobbing and wiping the tears away from under her eyes, so as not to smudge her mascara."What?!?" he exclaimed. "My mom doesn't hate you! Why do you say that?"She nodded tearfully. "Yes she does!" she insisted. "They hate me. She thinks I'm a slut."He sat on the bed next to her. "She. Are you ok?” I replied with my mouth still open. I was u*********sly holding the front of my bed shirt down over my thighs with both hands. Gwen’s smile widened and she said, “I feel great, are you sure that you are ok? What got you out of bed?” I looked at her squatting like I had seen in daddy’s magazine and was pretty sure I knew what she was doing. I had mimicked many of the positions of the models in the magazines and Gwen was in one of those now. Gwen asked again, “Honey, I am. More

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