When I finally got off the train and into my tiny apartment, I called my friend, Sue. She'd lived down the hall from me for a year after moving from her parent's house, and we'd become good friends. She'd always expressed that she was attracted to me, and we'd spent a weekend at a bed and breakfast a hundred miles away from home one weekend last September. Our room was outfitted in a huge whirlpool that comfortably fit both of us without having to touch each other. We settled down in the tub, and found that we each had a jet focused directly on our most private places. Neither of us mentioned the sensations attacking our nervous systems, we just continued to chat about our jobs, mutual friends, and how lovely the warm water felt after a tiring day spent shopping and walking around the small town we were visiting.