We preened (at least I did) for what seemed like ten seconds but what must have been close to a half an hour, until we were slammed back down to earth by the voice of Mrs. G--, the widow, calling Robin for breakfast and school. I peeled off--reluctantly--the blue pajamas; and with Robin's hasty "Here--after school!" We both scrambled into our normal clothing like DEW pilots at a Red alert. But I was "hooked" - - like a drug addict after his first main-lining--and I think we both knew it.
I have suffered through many days like that one since--pushing along the crawling seconds; exhorting the molasses-minutes to move along; harassing the hours. But somehow the first one seems the worst. Time however, does move along inexorably; and this (school) day finally came to its end. I virtually ran home. Robin was already there, as she was still in grammar school despite her age; and it was only two streets away. Mrs. G-- of course was as far away as if she had been in some other state, and my mother was not due home for two or more hours. Robin and I had the entire floor to ourselves.
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I dropped my books on the table, and ran across to her room. For the first--and last--time we kissed; and she whispered, "Get undressed." With anticipation making me shake and fumble I did; throwing the sudd- enly hated boy's garments into a corner by the door. With the same odd and some what tender look I had been fleetingly aware of that morning, she handed me a pair of her underpants. They were only cotton print; but they were a brief-bloomer style, with elastic waist and legs, and ruffled at the legs, in a blue and green print. I found them delightful--especially the slight nipping effect of the elastic. I must mention at this point that another fateful coincidence made us almost exactly the same size, excepting the upper chest region, of course. It is true that her hips and derriere were more rounded than mine, naturally; but our height and weight and general body formation were nearly identical. Next came a slip-- which in those days was called a petticoat-- of fine white cotton with touches of embroidery. Then again her insight was apparent as she selected a tearfully-lovely floral print voile dress in deep blue gentians on white.
26.