by Judy Voss
“Who was your first lover?” David asked.
I studied him. Remembered the intense teen-age attraction that went nowhere. But why ask today at a chance meeting, after all these years? Even now some very personal hang-ups?
“Do you mean the first man I had sex with?”
“Oh,” I stalled. “That was Jeremy Martin,” a stranger to David. Fiction to me.
He smiled. “Would you have dinner with me Saturday?”
“Sure,” I answered, pondering the consequences. I smiled. I’d never be caught in the lie. My first lover was his brother, Steve, but dead men don’t talk.
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One thought on “First Love”
very cute, Judy!