“Let’s go to the bedroom, where we’ll be more comfortable,” she said, taking my hand. I followed.

She was wearing one of those extra-large T-shirts that women wear to bed. I hadn’t seen anything yet — I had only felt her breast through her shirt. Upon entering her room we immediately hit the bed. I mounted her missionary-style. Still fully clothed I began to rub my hard-on against her vagina. We began making out — touching, kissing, licking, and feeling each other.

Earlier in the evening I had divulged to her that sexual intercourse was not something I took lightly; that I carefully consider when and with whom I engage in it. Seeing my reluctance to go all the way, she informed me about a “pink thing with batteries” that she used for self-satisfaction.