Before I could try to fix up a ‘date’ somewhere, she told me about her ex-boyfriend, Mohammad, or ‘Mo’ as she usually referred to him. He was ... local youth, her age, and of the same cultural background. But, he was a bit of a ‘bad boy,’ an unsuccessful car thief, who was now serving a short prison sentence.Apparently girls, “Like me,” as she put it, didn’t have boyfriends as such, well at least none that there family’s knew of; this was a definite no-go. She knew Mo as the friend of one of her. She turned me on so Istuck my hand down the front of my panties andstarted rubbing my pubic hair against my pussy. I was so busy playing with my pussy I didn'thear the front door open or the footsteps on thecarpeted stairs. She must have heard me moaningbecause she opened my bedroom door withoutknocking. I panicked. I jerked my hand out of mypanties and curled up in a fetal position. I fearedwhat my mum would do to me. Mum's expression hardly changed as shecrossed the space between the door. More

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