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I felt my throat tighten and tears burn under my eyelids.
"Am I striking a sensitive note? Because if I am, I'm doing a good job of analyzing your problem," he said.
"I don't have a problem," I replied, but not as firmly as before.
He reached out to take my hand. I started to pull it back.
"Relax," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
He made me feel like a little girl going to see the doctor. I let him keep my hand in his. His fingers began to stroke the backs of mine.
"Let's walk through this together," he suggested, moving closer to me on the settee. "I bet you vividly remember the first time you kissed a boy, don't you?"
I did. Freddy Mainiero and I had gone to the movies, and he had kissed me good night. I was only twelve. It was only a quick touch on my lips, but it sent a shiver of excitement down my spine, and I went running up to my room to look at myself in the mirror. My face was crimson, and my heart was pounding so hard that I thought it might split my chest open. I had always thought my first kiss would be long and romantic like the ones I'd seen in the movies, but after this, I couldn't imagine surviving one of those luscious extended kisses.
"Tell me about it," Jack Weller asked. He was only inches from me, his own lips softening, his eyes bright with interest.
"It wasn't anything. Just a little kiss."
"So, you felt safe in that sort of environment, having that simple and innocuous an experience, but alone with a young man, someplace where the lights are low and music is playing softly . . . when his hand touches your shoulder." He let his hand touch my shoulder, and I cringed. "Relax. Easy. I know just what I'm doing."
His fingers continued until he was touching my neck, and then they moved down to trace my collarbone. "You know about erogenous zones, I suppose," he whispered.
"I haven't made sexual activity a concentrated area of study," I replied.
He smiled and nodded. "You can't be afraid of your own body and how it reacts. Those feelings are only natural."
"For the last time, I'm not afraid."
"Actually, you're lucky that you and I met. I can help you overcome this problem so you can be assured you will have a normal, active sex life. It's very important when you get married," he continued. As he spoke, his fingers found the buttons of my blouse and undid them. "Relax. Close your eyes and just sit back a moment. You have wonderfully healthy skin."
My heart was pounding. His fingers slipped inside my blouse and traced the top of my bra into my cleavage as he leaned forward and kissed my neck.
"Your pulse quickens bringing the blood to the surface. It's like a knock on the door. You can't be afraid of answering it, Pearl. Go on."
"Wait," I said, but his hands moved under my arms and around behind me, where, with a surgeon's swift skill, he undid my bra and quickly swept his fingers under the elastic, lifting it way from my breasts.
"Yes," he said lowering his lips to my exposed nipple. "Pearl . . . Pearl," he murmured, sending tiny electric chills down my spine while his hand sought to stroke my thigh. "Everything is going along right; it's all as it should be. Try to relax."
My head was spinning. He had moved so quickly and so gracefully. I couldn't believe I was half undressed in moments. My heart was pounding. Actually, it felt funny, as if I were betraying someone. I started to resist, to push him back. He stopped kissing me and looked into my eyes. We were only inches apart.
"From what we just studied, you can see how important the first time is. I'm glad you're still a virgin. If the first time is clumsy and rough, it can scar you, give you dyspareunia, cause psychological damage that will affect your life forever.
"But with me it will be gentle, perfect. I just want to help you. I just want to make sure," he continued and again, as he spoke, his fingers moved over my clothing, unzipping my skirt and gently lifting my body to slide it down my legs. "Your body is preparing itself. You're ready."
I felt a wave of weakness ripple through me, my resistance diminishing as his lips continued to glide over my neck, my cheeks. The tips of his fingers were slipping under the elastic band of my panties.
Finally that part of me that had been
overwhelmed with his aggressive, smooth approach, regained a foothold. I heard myself question what was happening. Reality like a flash of lighting shot across the clouds of confusion, and I lifted my legs to press my knees into his abdomen to push him away, crying out at the same time. "No! Stop it!"
He lost his balance and tumbled off the settee.
I quickly pulled up my skirt and closed the zipper and buttoned up my blouse. Then I swung my legs over him and stood up. Still on the floor staring up at me, he looked foolish and my resolve strengthened.
"You didn't ask me here to help you study," I snapped.
"Of c
