She fondled his penis which was stiff and straining against his pants. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls. The boy she had loved was gone. Mike seemed visibly happier at her remark. A buxom piece, who looked, Gerald decided, as if she would be more at home in an amorous engagement in a hayloft than sitting demurely in a ballroom. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all.
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