A Picnic to Remember

by Marilyn (47-I-1 FPE)

It was a bright and beautiful summer in Fairsdale. It was even more so because it seemed that I now had a girlfriend whom I was sure was the "real thing" Although I had recently turned 18 years old, I had never been successful in dating girls, despite the fact that all seemed to like me.

My friendship with girls had been more as though I were a brother or, more accurately, a sister to them. They would discuss their dates with me, the clothes they had bought, their sewing ideas. I must say that I enjoyed this.

I had been raised in a family of girls and it seem- ed only natural to talk of girls interests. Then too, I was considered somewhat of a delicate child and truly had been given the tender treatment of all my family that one would normally expect to be given to my sis- ters.

Often I had tried to date girls, but it was always: "Oh, no, Merrill, it would be more fun to just be friends with you"; "Me, Merrill? Oh, you don't want to go out with me. They always acted as though their sister had just asked them to go out on a date.

But Debbie had just recently moved to Fairsdale. She was 20 years old and I thought just about the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was blonde and her gorgeous flowing hair swept down about her neck in the most recent feminine styling. Her figure was hour-glass in appearance; I was not sure whether it had been assisted by corset training or not. She had love- ly long legs and her clothes were exquisite. While casually she often dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, her dress-up attire was by contrast strikingly lovely. Satins, taffetas, frilly petticoats--I am frank to say they made me envious.

Debbie lived by herself in a real cute apartment

17.