I’d just gone out on my first real date. I was nineteen and had never really been out with a guy before. There was something about the guys I knew that didn’t turn me on. I thought it was just the ones I grew up with—you know, immature, known them for years, thought of them like my brothers. When John from work asked me out, I was flattered. He was good looking and had a great job, so I thought why not? I’d give it a try.
We went out for dinner and dancing. The meal was fabulous and he paid, what a bonus. He was a great conversationalist and a sensational dancer. We had so much fun. We got on well together and I thought perhaps he could be ‘The One’.
Later, while I was making coffee in my kitchen, he came up behind me, put his arms around my waist, and nuzzled into my neck. I giggled ner
