I was never a true Lolita, and that can be due to a number of things I don't really wish to go into. Come seventeen I reached the perfect age of grappled innocents, my thin body curved and leaned in all the right directions.

Raised innocent all my life, the age fit me perfectly, and I would soon come to find that I was exactly the same as everyone else my age, only that I, most times, outranged their beauty (or lack of) by bounds. Far too wise for my body, and a deceiving appearance of fifteen gave me a very special air, one that tangled, almost inevitable, with a forbidden youthfulness that only men with ten years on me could see. I had the freedom and ability to drive mad any man I wanted, but not the heart for it.

My speech came out as a well-read youth, save for the occasional (or constant, considering your US State) use of the word "dude", that was most time brushed off quickly in view of our costal California home. Considering that my education had yet to pass the "public" stages, and all the drugs I partook of, it was a surprise for people to hear my strange speech patterns and avid use of the word "tedious". However I was not bright so much as I was clever, late night studying was a requirement for me if I even wanted to consider graduate high school; which I did, barely.

My small feet were in an almost constant position of pidgin toed-ness, forcing my legs to bow to the point where my knees refused to touch. However my walk came off as leisurely and graceful. I had a nasty habit of pulling my legs up to my chest in cramped classroom desk/chairs.

All of these things stood in contrast to my unexpectedly low voice, not so much deep as it was rasped and lazy. I spoke slow, setting myself off the normal teenage speaking meter.

perhaps, as is the case now, I'm simply too high to make a case, not when I would rather be making love.