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It was only a few weeks until I realized I was dating the wrong boy.I sensed that Dean felt the same way, but both of us respected the commitments to our partners.We talked of our separation, expressing our undying love as you might expect of young lovers.I was to be at his parent’s home for a little less than a week before I returned home.Afterwards, I was coming back to my parent’s home on a bus while he spent the summer working for a farm supply business.
During the nine-hour drive to his home, the reality that we were going to be separated for three months began settling into my thoughts.
We didn’t progress past a lot of kissing and general feeling of each other’s non-sexual body.
Occasionally, Dean would accidentally bump my breast.
His parents went to bed early, probably to let us have the living room alone on my last night.
We were sitting on the divan, and of course we began kissing and cuddling.
Dean said something about how nice it would be when we could love each other all the way, and how much he was looking forward to being able to sleep with me.