But it still left the question of my feelings for Francesca. Was I being pushed ahead of where I wanted to be? I could feel some pressure, although it...wasn't coming from Francesca. There was only one way to resolve this and that was to talk to her.She was in her last year of university, working toward a degree in business. I was going down the same path, but by a different route. I was a year or more away from completing my correspondence studies. And when I finished, I would be obligated to. He laughed when he could manipulate my body in such a way. My knees were up at his sides, my hands holding his arms. The blanket stuck to our shapes, making our silhouette a strange shape of circles and lines. He looked at me often, holding his face very close to mine, our eyes locked. He held himself up slightly on his knees, he moved slowly. He had heavy breathing but didn’t stop. The light was low, casting our shadows onto the Northern wall with the small window. The sweat beaded on his. More

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