Trying to struggle, her immobile hands would not move. Her feet were tied. All she could do is send out a muffled cry and shake her head.Then they were grasping her. Mort's hands. Pressing against her breasts. Rubbing them up and down. Squeezing them. Molesting them. "No ... No!" was her muffled cry.Mort laughed.Then she froze. Louisa stopped shaking her head. Stopped wiggling her body. Stopped trying to throw him off, even though she was effectively restrained.Louisa froze because his hands. I knew by heart the lyrics of the song ‘I am 16 going on 17’, and during our impromptu productions, I would dance coyly and bat my eyelashes at ‘Rolfe’, who was played by Fred, a skinny, carrot-topped neighbor who couldn’t carry a tune but could dance heavenly and twirl me high up in the air. Fred was working as an apprentice in a laboratory that summer of ’95, it was part of his training a pre-med student at SUNY-Buffalo in western New York. His dancing and (lack of ) musical skills remained. She giggled and whispered, "And I'm glad this all came to a head today. I felt the twinge about fifteen minutes ago. My period will probably start no later than tomorrow night, and I would have HATED to miss out on all of this because of Mother Nature."As I started to recover my senses, I could hear the sounds of passion from a couple of places nearby. Looking left, I saw Clete pounding away from behind into Kelly, who was on her knees and mewling and moaning continually, perspiration shining. I went up to her then and extended my hand. She took it and there were a few catcalls from some of the guys in our class. What could I say? I had a date with the prettiest girl in the school.I stowed the camera at a table with my friend Eddy. He nodded dumbly at me when I asked if he would watch it while I danced.Mary Ann and I went to the dance floor just as a slow dance started.She sighed and said, “Oh good, I can do this type of step.”I knew the feeling well, as the rest of the dancing.
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