There just comes a point where a girl knows it is time to give it up. Maybe it was the sunrise peeking into my dorm window that morning that did it, maybe it was Nadine's enthusiasm about her last fuck-session with that asshole boyfriend of hers. Maybe it was nothing more than my urge to pee that focused my attention between my legs. I just knew that I was ripe and ready. I hated thinking of myself as being a late-bloomer, and what the hell does that mean anyway? Just because I wasn't ready to give into the demands of Bob or Mickey, or any of the other guys I dated occasionally, why does that make me different than someone like Nadine? I wondered, how did I manage to pass my twenty-second birthday without ever having had sex?