We were all a little tipsy. His wife went upstairs and I went into the kitchen. I felt his hand on my shoulder, and looked up. I was twenty four, but I didn’t know what to do when he kissed me. I mean that in the most basic sense. I’d never been kissed. I’d never dated, made out, done any of those things. I know that’s hard to believe these days when kids start having sex before they have their periods and everyone seems to be doing it by the time they’re twelve. For me, it was a combination of strict Catholic schools and upbringing for total ignorance of anything at all having to do with dating, sex, or anything on the subject of any of those things. I didn’t know what to do. He smiled and stroked my arm and said it was okay. That’s how it all started. The next Sunday morning when I answered the doorbell, he stood there smiling, a book in his hand. [download]
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