As a child I witnessed an assault on a girl. When I got older I obsessed about it, fantasizing that maybe it would happen to me. I got old enough to ride the bus and the subway by myself. As I rode I closed my eyes and 'felt' it focusing on one man or another. But in spite of all my daydreams nothing ever happened I finished high school never having had a man lay hands on me. I went to work for the gas utility company and one day I got my twenty year award. I lived on my own I bought a small house with the life insurance I received when my father died. Inside my house it looked and felt like a decorating magazine. Everything was normal except for my hundred or so sex novels which I read cover to cover, I can recite passages and when I do I feel hands on me. It was that year that an older plumber came to my house to replace my water heater. He left me in the bathtub, I pulled myself together, got dressed, fixed some hot chocolate and sat in my reading chair to relive the feelings of his hands and his manhood. From that day till this one my books help me relive the feelings,I feel his hands now.