As we walk back to the train station, away from the confines and ears of the crowd and our mutual friends yet suddenly quiet in our new-found freedom, I admire the graceful sturdy curve of the back of her neck from the top of her collar to the straight line of her short brown hair.

"I also like necks," I blurt out into the silence, referring back to our interrupted conversation from half an hour ago when I agreed with her that women's breasts were indeed an extremely attractive feature.

She looks up at me, not breaking stride, her eyes quizzical. "You like short haired girls?"

I nod, smiling.

"Huh," she replies, "necks. What do you like about necks?"

"Licking them," I respond without hesitation.