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Tilly was making a *** of tea in the kitchen, her mother sat opposite me in an armchair. How is your work? She said, gazing at me with her stern eyes. Fine mostly, I said. Her face showed no emotion; Tilly has a good job, and if she makes her way, she could be shop manager, Tilly's mother said. That's good, I said, looking past her towards the kitchen door, hoping Tilly would soon return, and save me from this interrogation. Girls these days do not seem to value virginity as they did when I was young, the mother said, they wear clothes too short, and reveal too much. (I wondered if she knew about Tilly and me or was she just fishing). I guess so, I said, looking back at her sitting there, knees tight together, and face like granite. A girl's virginity is her prize to take to her wedding night, and her husband, not to be frittered away at the first opportunity, the mother said. I looked at her features, and wondered how she managed to lose hers at all. Does your mother trust you while you are out with young girls? She added, looking at me sternly. Of course she does; she knows I would treat a girl with respect. (If the girl wanted it however I would oblige.) That is good to know, the mother said, raising an eyebrow, knitting her fingers together on her knees, forming a finger church. Tilly came into the lounge, and set the tray of teapot, cups, sugar bowl, milk jug, and spoons on a small table, and sat next to me. Have I missed anything? Tilly said. I hope not, her mother said, I was talking to Benedict about virginity, and how girls should treasure it, and not squander it. Tilly went red, and looked at the tray. I hoped that would not give the game away.
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 2:17 AM UTC
GIVE THE GAME AWAY 1965.
Tilly was making a *** of tea in the kitchen, her mother sat opposite me in an armchair. How is your work? She said, gazing at me with her stern eyes. Fine mostly, I said. Her face showed no emotion; Tilly has a good job, and if she makes her way, she could be shop manager, Tilly's mother said. That's good, I said, looking past her towards the kitchen door, hoping Tilly would soon return, and save me from this interrogation. Girls these days do not seem to value virginity as they did when I was young, the mother said, they wear clothes too short, and reveal too much. (I wondered if she knew about Tilly and me or was she just fishing). I guess so, I said, looking back at her sitting there, knees tight together, and face like granite. A girl's virginity is her prize to take to her wedding night, and her husband, not to be frittered away at the first opportunity, the mother said. I looked at her features, and wondered how she managed to lose hers at all. Does your mother trust you while you are out with young girls? She added, looking at me sternly. Of course she does; she knows I would treat a girl with respect. (If the girl wanted it however I would oblige.) That is good to know, the mother said, raising an eyebrow, knitting her fingers together on her knees, forming a finger church. Tilly came into the lounge, and set the tray of teapot, cups, sugar bowl, milk jug, and spoons on a small table, and sat next to me. Have I missed anything? Tilly said. I hope not, her mother said, I was talking to Benedict about virginity, and how girls should treasure it, and not squander it. Tilly went red, and looked at the tray. I hoped that would not give the game away.
A BOY AND A GIRL AND HER MOTHER IN 1965.
TerryCollett
Written by
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 2:17 AM UTC
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