You give me breathy little moans in return for my attention, and I appreciate the gesture. If only I didn't feel so guilty about giving you this. You run loving hands through my hair. When did motherly love and worship turn into something romantic? When did we start dreaming about doing...this? But does it even matter?

You are my guilty little secret. On the outside I walk and talk like a normal girl, and I go to school and I do my shopping and I live in my dorm and I get dressed, and I am just a girl. No one knows about how when I'm with you, that changes. How I am not just a girl, I am Tara, and I am yours. We are tender and naked together, and we are round and womanly and we have curves together and we fit together. Oh, how I love you.

I love the way that you are like a closed box around everyone else, but when we are together, it's like I have the key and I can open you up. You can be your secret self around me, and I keep you a secret, smuggling you into my bed and when my head is between your thighs I think about how no one else has ever tasted you like this. No matter what happens to us, I will always be your first. No matter how you feel about me when you are...older, I will still have something of you that no one, not even you, can revoke.

I do worry about that, you know. You are so young...I can't even describe to you what it feels like to be on my end. The corruption on you burned like acid at first. The taste of your juices on my tongue were corrosive and threatening. I was afraid that you'd burn me.

But I risked it. I would give up anything to be with you. Even my sanity and my sense of honor. The old Tara would never have done something so terrible. The old Tara understood something of balance and harmony. She knew that something like this should never be and was an abomination. I lost the old Tara somewhere, and I don't really think I want her back. I like this far better.

I don't regret you, Dawn. Not at all. But I worry. One day, when you are older, you will regret me.