So it was just me, my big sister and my dad. Truth be told dad always wanted a son. A farmer needs a strong son to help with the work. I wasn't big or...strong even for a girl. I was tiny, petite and delicate like the spring flowers. My hair was blond, eyes deep blue, my waist was slender and my breasts round and pretty but not large, not like the girls in the men's magazines.My sister was was also tiny and very pretty. She had left us to try her luck in New York City. She wanted to be a fashion. "Every other manexaggerates his athletic feats. The more their career recedes into thepast, the better a player they become. But with you, it's the opposite.Remember that touchdown you scored against Granville?" Let them have their fun, and I'll have mine. Anyway, it sure gave me athrill the first time I saw your mother walk out on the field in theschool colors, carrying pom poms."Mom chimed in: "Oh yes, the red skirt and the goldenrod sweater with a bigred 'S' on it." Big red S?" I asked,. More

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