Chapter 8

“Dr. Foster, I’ve…” Flustered, he stared down at his lap. How could he talk about sex, about masturbatory fantasies, to this man who had always treated him well—better, in fact—than his own father?

“Let me guess?” Dr. Foster’s smile was understanding. “You’ve just turned fifteen, haven’t you, Rush? Your body is reacting to outside stimuli. Maybe you’ve been checking out the size of the other boys’ penises in the locker room, to see how you measure up? You’ve found your father’s Playboys, which…” There was laughter in his voice. “… he reads only for the informative articles.”

Rush blushed and bit his lip, avoiding the man’s kind eyes.

“All boys your age are curious, Rush.” Dr. Foster rested a hand that Rush assumed he thought was comforting on his. “It’s perfectly normal; nothing to worry about at all. Now let me fill out this form for the physical education department, and you can be on your way.”