"I know," she whispered between sobs. "I-I can feel it, too."

And, indeed, she had become stuck on him in that instant, and, afterwards, never had eyes for anyone else. Even though he did nothing more with her that evening and controlled his flaming testicles like a saint until she knew – gleefully almost, because it was, after all, a compliment – that he must be in terrible pain.

That evening he kissed her good-night at the door very demurely and stroked her soft face, promising to phone her again soon. She clutched him desperately, wondering if he really meant it? Or had he lost his respect for her, now that he had his finger in her cunt? Or maybe he'd never call her again because she hadn't let him go all the way. Oh God, she was damned if she did and damned if she didn't.

"Yes," he reassured her with great tenderness, lightly touching her soft warm hair. "It's all right between us, Georgia, because we love each other. You'll see."

Georgia's female instinct hadn't believed a word of it… boys really had to say things like that, didn't they? It didn't matter if you never heard from the guy again, the important thing was that he had claimed to respect you at the time. Then both sides were absolved of all guilt and could rationalize away the entire incident. Georgia understood all these things with the feminine instinct ingrained in her very bones like a radioactive isotope. She needed no instruction in sexual psychology. She had been forged in the furnace of evolution… but it certainly didn't make this "first time" good-night any easier on either of them, for Georgia very definitely wanted to be seeing more of this Howard Rogers. And, luckily, she did.

In the weeks, months and years to come, both knowingly and unknowingly, she teased Howard almost to the breaking point. And little by little their passion did escalate somewhat. She permitted him to feel her full, firmly set breasts, but only from outside her sweater.