The next morning found Victoria once again out walking, by herself this time. Although the day was just as beautiful as the one before, the young coed walked with her head down, her beautiful blonde hair falling forward so that it half-hid her troubled face. Clearly Victoria was worried. Perhaps in another ten years she might look back on her present problems as almost humorously trivial, but now they loomed before her like a granite mountain.

Of course, the main problem was sex, or the fear-filled anticipation of it. What should she do? What could she do? Like so many other young virgins, Victoria had heard from the time she was a little girl that someday some man was going to do something to her. Something so awe-inspiring and important that at first it could only be hinted at. Over the years a kind of instinctual dread mixed with breathless anticipation had built up in the growing girl's mind, so that now, even though her peer group and various sex-education courses had informed her beyond a doubt of what was going to happen, there was still an inbred aura of mystery and fear about the prospect of her first sexual encounter with a male.

What Victoria had ended up with was a classic case of expectations exceeding the offered realities. The panting fumblings of her teenage male classmates had been miles and miles from the expected earth-shattering revelations on the road past virginity. Although Victoria had many times before become sexually aroused as some young student ran his trembling hands over her ripely budding body, the mere sight of the starving-animal look on his face had been enough to make the sickened girl pull disgustedly away. Eventually she had gained a reputation for frigidity.