The first few days at the lodge had been a bit difficult when Bob, as usual, had wanted to do nothing but stay in their hotel room and make love; but after awhile they had begun to take walks into the woodland areas of the southern mountainous terrain of her childhood and she had sensed her heart slowly opening up to him. That was important to her – that though they had met at a northern college, he understand and appreciate her southern background.

Not, of course, that she was interested only in their emotional relationships, she giggled to herself, and her heart skipped a beat when she recalled one episode a few days before when Bob had stripped to his jockey shorts in a remote clearing in the woods, meaning to sun himself, but unwittingly exposing the outlines of his strong young penis to her and emotionally stirring her. Before either of them had realized it, they had begun kissing passionately. Her stomach had throbbed at the feeling of the steadily hardening bulge in his shorts, and soon their kisses had achieved a plane of demanding sexuality where only the real thing would suffice. She didn't understand it; she had never known that feeling before and she couldn't explain why it had happened, except that somehow out there in the clearing everything had seemed different. The sun had shone down on their tanned bodies, bringing out her own deeply sensuous feelings, and slowly awakening her. Making love before had seemed so utterly mechanical, but in that setting there was something pure and natural about pressing her hand against the long column-like bulge in his shorts and wrapping her fingers around the warmly pulsating hardness. She'd damn near lost her head entirely as he tenderly massaged her vaginal swell through her tightly fitting jeans, then slipped his hand suddenly down through the waistband into the moistly seething passage between her legs.

Now Jane looked up into the star-covered sky and recalled guiltily how she had suddenly refused him after those preliminary moments of lovemaking.