I decided to ask him why we spent so much time on sexual mechanics and so little on love. "After all, it's just intercourse."He frowned. "Remember to ...atch your language, young lady."I blushed. "I'm sorry. I mean, it's just fucking."Steve looked at me for a long time. Then he spoke. "I'm going to tell you a love story about a girl named Sephy. Sephy was a freshman Program girl the first year I taught here. She was just 14. I was only 23 myself, and even I was a little nervous, but she was. With my palms facing out I begin to stroke the length of your back up towards your neck, my thumbs rolling the muscles they find in their journey up, my finger tips brushing your sides, the sides of your breasts as they do. You sigh again and as I continue the movement of my hands up and back down your back I think to myself what those sighs might be for. Are you remembering your lover, his hands, his lips, his scent? Were his hands the last to travel your back before I came here today? Is it. More

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