I was young. Very young. A pre-pubescent girl who hadn't had a
dirty thought in the world up until recently. My parents were
the partying type and with three kids--they took advantage of
every opportunity to get away. Which is why it was no surprise
when they accepted Bob's offer to babysit, free of charge.  Bob
was my dad's friend. He had a son named Davy who was mentally
handicapped. Even though Davy was 18 years old, he had the mind
of a child, which could explain why we got along so well. Bob
insisted that babysitting wouldn't be an inconvenience since
Davy liked to spend time with us anyway.  My sister, Stacy, was
4 years older than me. She was a tall, pale brunette with a
perfect figure. I was always jealous of her curves, sometimes I
would even consume large amounts of food because I wanted so
badly to gain weight. Nevertheless, I remained an underdeveloped
bean pole. My breasts had just begun growing, they were no
bigger than mosquito bites but I was still proud of them. My
brother, Charlie, was three