Where did the secrets to masculinity lay; Ennis surely did not know.
Not terribly experienced, Ennis had kissed Alma deeply, fondled her tiny body but never transcended with her to a level where he knew he had no restraint; Ennis was a man and there was supposedly, his match.
Ennis desperately clutched Jack's bristly face with his rough hands; Jack's soft lips, the stubble on his handsome jaw and Jack's musky scent was an irresistible force that Ennis could not control.