@Francis,
I have done a time or two. They were nearly all virgins when I was at my most vulnerable. The ones who weren't were either ugly or frightening and one was ostracised for engaging with them.
It took a long while to get as far as that. They wanted kissing for months before you were allowed to hold the lumps on the front of the cardigan and even then only one at once. I could wax lyrical with my nostalgia for the seaside girls of my youth. Tit slapping was unheard of. Now it's in the manuals of how to restore the romance of your marriage.
"Slipping the finger in" as you so crudely put it was only arrived at after a long and tortuous operation and it was usually accompanied by astonishment and afternoons looking into windows, or even display cabinets, of shops retailing gold rings with diamond inserts. Holding hands.
My generation had real honeymoons. The more you try to fake a honeymoon the dafter it looks. I saw one bride recently dressed in white and all the other purity symbols and a chap beside me said that she's had more pricks than a second-hand dartboard.
His Holiness is aware of our vulnerability you know. And he knows we can't protect ourselves.
