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Fisher,” I said grinning at this handsome, excited teen in front of me. ”Well, maybe Saturday afternoon. I think Bruno's going fishing.” ”You're not supposed to kiss your teacher,” I finally sputtered out seconds later, trying to sound officious even as I tried to recover from my surprise. ”Johnnnnnny!” I cried as my eyes rushed to check the door. I trembled all the way home. I had met Bruno early in my senior year at Syracuse. He, fifteen years my senior, had lived next door to me in my off campus apartment that year, a bank manager who'd been rotated into a position as second-in-command for the Syracuse-Buffalo region. My red hair and green eyes, combined with my milky white smooth skin, all the product of my gran's Irish genes, seemed to ignite the male libido in a way that only frightened a still shy virgin. Bobby Carson of Utica, New York was the lucky boy, a freshman I'd been assigned to tutor, part of my duties associated with my fellowship grant. How to spend an evening with friends.”Yes, honey, I'll explain more about that tomorrow. But right now, this is your special day.
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