I dated some that freshman year, learning more about guys and their urges, feeling the power my body gave me over them, and feeling too, but not revea...ing, their power over me. I touched my first clothed cock that year, and its feel, the denim-muted ridges and insistent throbbing, fueled my masturbation for a week. I allowed some exploration of my own body, letting boys cup my bra-covered breasts as we kissed at parties or in parks. One got a clumsy feel of my pantied crotch, but no more. Don't. On the sides I had painted 'Black Sabbath Birmingham Rocks'in large black gothic script. It was the sort of thing you did in those days.Needless to say, it made the van somewhat distinctive. Upon reflection it wasn't the most tactfully illustrated vehicle to take to a Christian camp.The Volvo had a considerable height advantage over us and Nan's reputation would have been better served if she'd remained upright in her seat.As we passed the bus I could see John standing next to the driver. More

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