Robin the Molester

When I was fourteen years old, I had a Math tutor that the school sent to my house. Robin came over once a week. Besides engaging in schoolwork there was a lot of socializing. Robin would look at me with longing and excitement in her eyes. But I thought nothing of it.

Then, she began jumping on my back and feeling every part of me, as if she was conducting an inventory. She left no part untouched. Even when the guidance counselor was over, Robin hung on my back. The only one who seemed embarrassed was the counselor, who hurried to leave. Even at this point, I didn’t know what to make of it, but I started to hate it. I wanted her off me!

It was my birthday. I sat by myself in the garage. Robin showed up and kneeled down next to me. She said, “I’m going to give you a birthday kiss.” I was scared! I didn’t want any kiss! I couldn't help cringing. She gave me a short, quick one on the cheek, and I was temporarily relieved.

The sexual abuse stopped after this birthday kiss. I didn’t know what happened. I said to my mother, “You know Robin was bothering me. A lot. I don't know what got her to stop.” My mother spoke in a nonchalant tone. “She asked me if you liked her affection and I told her that you probably didn’t.”

I still had unanswered questions. I didn’t know exactly what was said between her and my mom. I wonder what could have been so effective. I felt a little neglected after it stopped, but I wasn’t living in fear and anxiety anymore.

Robin was married twice after that. Apparently, she’s still in the closet trying unsuccessfully to live the straight life. While married the second time, she bought two new lesbian books from me, not knowing I was the seller. I haven’t tried to track her down, I don’t know what she’s doing now.

Her next marriage, I think, should be to a woman. One her own age.