She was climbing over me and stopped caught by the languorous look in my eyes and leaned against me, her face inches from mine, her long blonde hair dangling over my shoulder, caressing my cheek . . .
I could feel the heat of her lips and I thought, paused, and then whispered,
"I want the first time to be with a man."
Her eyes closed, hiding the turquoise promise of her passions.
She sighed, "I understand."
She slid, climbed over me and swung her long golden legs over the bed, quickly walking to the closet, to dress for school . . .
I watched her wondering what I was afraid of, and did not pursue the thought further . . .
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