The college I had chosen was on the other side of the country, in California, away from all of my friends. My dorm was multi-sex, so my roommate could...have been either male or female, and I really wasn’t keen on the idea of bunking with a guy. I took a breath, opened the door, and a wave of thumping music almost knocked me off balance. Everyone inside had drinks in their hands, and was dancing extremely close to one another. Couples were kissing on the stairs, some on the furniture. Games were. Same goes for alcohol, apparently. “One sugar for her. Sweet tooth, I’ll take two. Screw the purists. Life is bitter enough as it is. Stir.” A flood of late winter sun bleached the back of my skull. It had a sound to it, not a nice one. Squinting for survival. The neighbor scurried hurryingly from her balcony. After a quick second peak, that is. The sheets crumpled at the foot of the bed. She was laying there like a classical painting. A sleeping Venus. One rosebud nipple poking through. Please, honey, we can handle this if we work together, the four of us; me, you, Tommy and God.”“I would never do that, Girl. And you’re right, I do worry. You’ve always been able to deal with things and then set them aside, or, put them away. As far back as school, you did that. I can’t seem to do it, but, I won’t let you down on this, Girl. You can count on me.”“Okay, then. Oh, and don’t mention anything about the spanking when you go down there now.”“I won’t. Girl? What do you have on. . It had all started some fifty years earlier when the “Gilly Den” had been privately commissioned by the late Rear Admiral Sir Justin Burrows for construction at the most modern of Dutch shipyards. The Admiral was a renowned ‘ladies man’ who had women (and children) in several ports around the globe and, as a private whim which was quite in-keeping with his priapic nature, he asked for a special figurehead to be constructed for his new ship: “She must be made of the finest hardwood and should.