I have a very good friend called Robin. First we met on 1st September 2002 in Liivalaia gymnasium. He was my first classmate. Since then we have been in the same class, 10 years in a row! Robin is 6 months younger than me he is 16 years old. Robin is quite tall 188 cm, skinny and paleskinned. Comparing with boys, Robin has very long and wavy brown hair. In summer he had a haircut called ,,cornrow", but now his hair is taid back in a ponytail. He is attractive and good looking person. Every time I see him, he smiles. He tends to be very positive and cheerful. He is active and has no difficulty making new friends. I also find him to be courteous and kindhearted. If his friends are in a trouble, Robin always tries to help them. Robin can be very humorous. Sometimes it is very funny to listen to his jokes during the break. He also has an artistic side. For example, some time ago, when we were
"Here." He came to me, yanking my skirt up again. Furious at what I'd almost let happen when I should be at work, I smacked at his hands. "Stop it. Leave me alone." "Shut up, Eva," he said grimly, catching the hem of my black silk blouse and tugging it into place, adjusting it so that the buttons once again formed a straight row between my breasts. Then he pulled down my skirt, smoothing it with calm, expert hands. "Fix your ponytail." Cross retrieved his coat, shrugging into it before adjusting his tie. We reached the door at the same time and when I crouched to fetch my purse, he lowered with me. He caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Hey," he said softly. "You okay?" My throat burned. I was aroused and mad and thoroughly embarrassed. I'd never in my life lost my mind like that. And I hated that I'd done so with him, a man whose approach to sexual
The house was timeless, graceful, and probably a hundred years old. It was painted a soft, faded white, three stories tall, rectangular and well proportioned. The windows and doors were either part of the original structure or a perfect restoration. My truck was the only car in sight. I could hear the river close by, hidden in the obscurity of the forest. "Wow." "You like it?" He smiled. "It... has a certain charm." He pulled the end of my ponytail and chuckled. "Ready?" he asked, opening my door. "Not even a little bit -- let's go." I tried to laugh, but it seemed to get stuck in my throat. I smoothed my hair nervously. "You look lovely." He took my hand easily, without thinking about it. We walked through the deep shade up to the porch. I knew he could feel my tension; his thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of my hand. He opened the door for me. The inside was even more surprising, less predictable, than the exterior
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