I sat on the cold wooden bench outside Mr. Anderson's office trying to control myself. I was shivering uncontrollably, not from the cold or because I was afraid of the punishment I was about to receive. I was shivering because I was so aroused at the thought of what I was about to do. I certainly fit the profile of a troubled teen but I wasn't one. I was the unwanted child of a teenage mother, who had worked as a nurse at...