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The strap on

Robin was lost in thought as she rode the Clark St. bus on her way to her job as a junior trader at the Board of Trade in downtown Chicago. Having only graduated from the U of I three months ago, she felt very lucky indeed to have landed such a good job in such a short period of time. If she kept her nose to the grindstone and worked hard, Robin was sure that not only would this job provide the mental challenge she needed, but also the kind of money most folks only dreamed of. As the bus swayed to and fro as it passed over the Chicago River bridge, Robin thought that the only real problem she had since moving to The Big Windy was the lack of any real social life. By now she had hoped to have made some close friends but it just hadn't worked out that way with the heavy workload she was carrying.

Even in college and having just a handful of good friends, with no boy friends at all, Robin worried about her seeming total disinterest in men and often wondered if she were maybe gay, and although she never showed it, she was always more interested in being with the girls. While her friend Joan had always kidded her that she was sexually repressed and just needed a good lay, Robin would just laugh and give the old "when I meet the right guy I'll know it" line. This had gone on for four years with no sexual contact with men or women, and while she had read all the manuals and "how to" sex books, she had never gone any farther than the masturbation part, and thankfully she didn't have a ...

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