Engaged, he assumed control, ensured my virginity on the altar. A year later, we married, I just turned eighteen, he twenty-three. I’ve never known...another man. Now twenty-five, I’m meeting my first real date. I’m being me, at last. Conversing with myself between stoplights, I rewrote my personal history to justify meeting a man, not my husband.Approaching Michael’s restaurant in Sunnyvale, our meeting place, however, my rationalized confidence dissipated, replaced with timid reality.I’m. “Bradley and me are going into town for a bit of shopping, can you stay here with the girls honey?” Felicity said. “No problems Flicy,” I responded. I relaxed by the pool whilst the girls swam and splashed around. I sat there sunbathing, in my large rimmed straw hat and shades, and regularly oiled myself, adjusting my bikini. By the end of the day I had triangular bikini marks over my breasts which I loved! The rest of the week carried on this way, but with Bradley and Felicity spending days. More

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