Regina
She is 15 years old, 147 centimeters tall, with well-muscled thighs and a high bottom. Her breasts appear large for a girl her age, although an inspection of her underwear drawer uncovers only C-cup bras. Size in this case is an illusion, a contrast between the firm, fleshy bulbs and the diminutive frame. On a musicological whim, I dub them (her large breasts) “The Mighty Handfuls.” Her mother is frequently absent, leaving us (Regina and me) alone together. Three nights per week are spent at...