"Go All the Way" by the Raspberries was playing on the radio, and the girls knew every word. When the chorus came around, Mitzi'd drum on the steering wheel. I thought for sure we'd either crash or be pulled over by the cops. And if Cindi didn't stop grinding into my lap during this sing-along, I was going to have an accident of another sort. Fortunately, we made it to Cindi's neighborhood without a single incident.

Cindi's house was dark and deserted when we pulled into the drive. Cindi suggested that Mitzi shine her lights at the front porch so she could see to open the door. And she somehow convinced me that my help was needed. As the key turned in the lock, Mitzi and the others pulled out of the drive. Hysterical laughter and screeching tires were all I heard before Cindi opened the door and purred, "Come on in."

Cindi instructed me in the fine art of foreplay.

She bought me a copy of the Kama Sutra on my birthday.

We did it in the bathroom at the Catfish Kitchen, in a closet while her Father was watching television down the hall, in cars, in fields, a deer camp trailer, her backyard, the instrument storage room in the high school band hall, on a boat dock and a pontoon boat. I was in love. I think it was love. Whatever it was, it was good enough for me. I wanted to marry her, but she wanted to have sex with other men. I gave her a ring and she left me the gift that keeps on giving...

...Herpes.