I kept squeezing and then switch over to the right one, never neglect the boobies they say. I kept breathing into her hear as her body stiffened. “t...is is what you need slut, you need to be used like a no good whore, don’t you?” “yes sir” is all she could muster. I instructed her to stand up, she instinctively did and put her hands behind her. I stood in front of her, in her personal space, first pinching her nipples while she stared into space, then I lowered my right hand into her sport. I felt, as I had never felt before or since, that I had met TheWoman, the ultimate icon of femininity the batting of whose eyelashcould launch a thousand ships or a thousand sonnets. As we walkedback to the campus, I felt like a 15-year-old boy on my first date. I took hold of her hand, lightly. She pulled away, slightly, andthen extended her hand back to me. It was so slender, so delicate,like a piece of Meissen china. We stood there and I slowly raisedher hand to my lips and kissed it. I. More

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