”“Thank you, how old were you when you first met a boy that you think liked you? I asked.“I was twelve, and his name was Sam. Next question?”I...looked at my mom directly in the eyes and first said, “Mrs. Summers -- the next couple of questions are very personal, don’t answer if you don’t want -- At what age did you start your menses?”The look on her face went sallow as she answered, “Nine years old.”“Final question; How old were you when you first experienced vaginal sex?”“WHAT?”“Mrs. Summers,. " "Kind of thought you would!" "Let me guess! "I'll bet that she didn't put any pressure on you to try it for - Shall we say! - a couple of days! Right? You know, as in: she made the offer to let you try, but never went so far as to push it?" "Go on!" "Then, one night, after maybe the third or fourth time that she had you tie her down, she very innocently asked if you might like to reverse roles and give it a try. And, when you said no, I'd be willing to bet that she started getting a little. Kim was probably the closest I had to a friend there. She confided in me about everything from her husband to the horrible shoes she’d seen someone wearing on the other floor. She also hated Isabel with a passion. ‘Evenings are too busy at my place.’ ‘Me too,’ another said. And then everyone was agreeing. The next few minutes was everyone else giving their reasons why, using kids and spouses and some college course as an excuse. I didn’t have any excuse – no more than Kim did, even though she. "Would you like to show me how good you can make me feel?" Well, I'd like to, but I'd like to understand why you'd want me to. You could have any guy in school, and most out of it. Why me?" I told you, you come highly recommended," she said. "Most of the guys that I've been with haven't done a particularly good job of satisfying me. I was complaining about that to some friends, despairing that there were no good men out there. One of my friends disagreed. I want to see how good you really.