When I was in 10th grade I had this boyfriend.  He was a year younger than me and he worshipped the ground I walked on.  I really took advantage of him but that's another story.  Anyway, I used to ask him to ride his bike over to my house around midnight on Fridays and Saturdays.  I'd help him through my bedroom window and he would land on my bed and we would kiss and hold each other all night long.  At dawn he would sneak away, his ten speed quietly clicking off into the sunrise.

As the weeks passed, our kissing became more passionate and our love deeper.  Clothes were being removed and new realities explored.  One night we made tempestuous love and the head board banged loudly against the wall of my parent's bedroom.  I heard my mom get out of bed to come and look in on me to see if everything was all right.  I leapt out of bed, whipped a robe on and met her at the bedroom door.  I sobbed like a baby as I threw my arms around her, "Oh mom, I just had the most horrible nightmare."

My boyfriend remained utterly still, suffocating under the covers for fifteen minutes while I allowed my mom to calm me down.

When she went back to bed my boyfriend and I held each other in the darkness, quietly giggling like mad.