They had borrowed a car from a friend of his from school and driven up into the New York upstate hillsides. Her heart nearly missed a beat even now, thinking about the beauty and romance of it all. They had found a gorgeously secluded place for sharing their picnic lunch, and before either of them realized it, their warm kisses had become flaming hot caresses. She remembered Phillip's hand on her breasts; the way she'd offered no resistance as he unfastened her bra, thinking that nothing would be wrong with it, the tender tingle of his fingers on her young nipples, the way he made her gasp for breath and squeal as he played with her breasts there on the grassy hillside beneath a sheltering elm tree. And she recalled also how she'd been so dreamily unconcerned with the reality of it all, blinded by the rapturous music of romance, that she hadn't stopped his hand as it slid up her leg with one smooth, unhesitating movement and went straight under the thin sheerness of her panties to. She adjusted her weight, just ever so slightly, such that she was leaning back. She wanted to know if he was really that close. At first she felt nothing but then, just when she thought she would be close to losing her balance, she felt him. He was right on her. He was so large, his body so hard, it felt as though she had leaned against a wall. She gripped her coffee mug in both hands so that they didn’t shake. ‘Maggie…’ he said again. It caused her eyes to drift closed. ‘I wondered…’ He paused again and it seemed to draw out forever. She realized she wasn’t breathing. ‘I thought I might shower.’ She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to speak. She didn’t want to give in and finally breathe because the slightest movement would bring the moment to an end. The longer she resisted though, the more awkward it became. ‘Of course.’ She answered finally. ‘I was going to.’ He said. ‘I just didn’t find any… do you have a towel?’ Finally, a mundane request. I simple task she could.
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