I am 35 now, but in my growing up years I found him as the father figure to love me. I am talking twelve thirteen years old. My father embarrassed me, he was a real life shoe salesman and an alcoholic. My mother was an alcoholic and part time prostitute. So when I was loved by him I was happy. Maybe it was wrong, maybe. But to me it was what gave me life.

He lived down the street and he had a metalworking shop. All that time he loved me I have been his only woman. My mother was usually asleep by two in the afternoon, so I walked down the street to get loved. My street husband closed his garage door and I could feel myself come aroused, wet and anxious, his huge hug enveloped me and I only slowly woke up later, laying on his bed, my clothes on the floor, my skin still hot, feeling him still, I always continued to feel him even after he had withdrawn and I lay still naked on his bed.

One day I was seventeen and no longer fourteen, I was more and more a woman, and I watched him work. His hand would reach out and circle around my neck, my body reached out to him and I went into my trance, time stood still my body fitting around him and he joined me to him and I could feel his love. Twenty two and my love was deeper, twenty seven I had lived with him then for ten years, I have never found words that describe my feeling as he put himself on me and I gave in completely.

I am 35 now, I am free in many ways, but in one way I will never be free. My mind doesn't really have memories as much as feelings, I lay on the bed, he circles and comes over and lifts my head to kiss me and my trance begins, minutes go by, hours in my mind but minutes in the real world, but in those minutes I live completely pulled up hard against him, his love is real his desire real his body real like one piece of a puzzle matching up with another I become one body with his, surely all these years have molded me to fit around him and for him to fit so perfectly in me.

I try to speak in words but I cannot say what I feel.