"Call me later? If you need someone to talk to, you know? I'll be here."He hugged her back gently. "Thanks, Sammy. I'll be all right. I'll talk to you...later, okay?" Okay, Bobby."He went out and strapped on his bike helmet, hopped on his bike, and pedaled off. He kept looking back at Sammy standing in the driveway as she watched him ride away.When he looked back and she'd disappeared back into the house, he reversed course, crossing back in front of her house, as he began the long ride across. I felt free. And that is the story of my first time. I see what you mean, Ray, just retelling that story has given me a nice woody!" And it has me nice and damp, dear. I loved hearing about it." And, you see, I now have something to write about. That was a great story, Doug. I'd really like to see you write it up and, for want of a better phrase, flesh it out. I want to hear more about your exploits as a Parisian art student. I also want to hear more description about the bodies involved so I. More

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