I had been dating three different girls. One night I went out with one of them. She looked Hispanic, had dark hair and eyes and was very pretty. She was probably only 17-18 years old. She had a good build; her breasts were medium-sized. This was only about the second time we had been out together.

We went out to eat and she began talking to me in English. Apparently, she and her mother had been discussing the possibility of her marrying me. I listened to her talk. I had feared something like that might happen—that she would get the wrong idea that I was really interested in her. Finally, I stopped her and told her I wasn't interested in marrying her. I merely wanted to go out with her a few times and be her friend. That was all there was and nothing more. I didn't even plan on having sex with her.

She immediately became defensive, became rather nasty toward me and told me I was gay. I listened to her. The more she talked the closer her face came to mine. Finally, even as she spoke her lips were touching mine. I grabbed her, pulled her across the table toward me and kissed her. She was quite passionate. I felt slightly guilty because I thought I could easily manipulate her.

I didn't intend to have sex with her. But since she had called me gay, I felt like I wanted to show her that there was no truth in that. Plus I was definitely aroused by her. Her kiss had so much energy in it. It would be interesting to take advantage of such a fine, young body. I began running my hands over her. I put my hand under her blouse and felt her bare skin, but I didn't touch her breasts. I ran my hand along her legs but I didn't touch any sensitive areas.

Although she tried to stop me, I felt she would obviously give in if I were to pursue the matter. She was so passionate and enflamed I could clearly have my way with her if I wanted to.

Finally, I stopped and decided to take her home. I figured she had at least gotten the message that I was quite capable of having sex. It was simply my own choosing not to.