I showed her where it was, and she disappeared. Only moments later she reappeared at the doorway completely undressed. Framed by the soft yellow light...from the bathroom I swear she looked like the angelic Fiametta the long dead Italian writer Boccaccio described in one of his Renaissance love stories. Long shapely legs, exquisite hips, perfect breasts, and her long strawberry blonde hair hanging down below her shoulders, man I was completely blown away. I knew that my warmth toward her had. Two other things we decided between us. Since continuing her schooling at present was impossible in a formal class attendance, we would undertake together a series of correspondence courses and institute between us twenty hours a week of study time, ten together in discussion or such, and ten when each had time alone and, though we might be in the same room, we would consider that time not to disturb the other person. This soon led to two other refinements. We each got a calendar and we began. More

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