It was cold, but not bitterly so. There had been eight inches of snow during the night, and Bobby had shown up asking Constance if she wanted to go sledding.“We’re grown up, silly,” she laughed.“That doesn’t mean we can’t go sledding,” he said.She ended up going with him, muttering about how crazy she was, and how juvenile he was acting.The “sled” turned out to be the inner tube from a big rig truck, almost five feet in diameter, and totally un-steerable. The first time down the hill, she was scared, so he simply sat in the middle of the tube, and pulled her down on his lap, like he was a chair. Both were bundled up, so his hands on her chest, holding her against him, were neither sensual nor particularly noticeable, especially since, as he jerked her onto his lap and put his hands on her breasts, her momentum started them down the hill.That spinning, bumpy ride, with Constance screaming like she was on a ten story roller coaster, left her laughing. It also convinced her he was r
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