Lucy Mancini lifted her pink gown off the floor and ran up the steps. Sonny

Corleone's heavy Cupid face, redly obscene with winey lust, frightened her, but

She had teased him for the past week to just this end. In her two college love

Affairs she had felt nothing and neither of them lasted more than a week.

Quarreling, her second lover had mumbled something about her being "too big

down there." Lucy had understood and for the rest of the school term had refused

To go out on any dates.

During the summer, preparing for the wedding of her best friend, Connie

Corleone, Lucy heard the whispered stories about Sonny. One Sunday afternoon

in the Corleone kitchen, Sonny's wife Sandra gossiped freely. Sandra was a

Coarse, good-natured woman who had been born in Italy but brought to America

As a small child. She was strongly built with great breasts and had already borne

Three children in five years of marriage. Sandra and the other women teased

Connie about the terrors of the nuptial bed. "My God," Sandra had giggled, "when

I saw that pole of Sonny's for the first time and realized he was going to stick it

into me, I yelled bloody murder. After the first year my insides felt as mushy as

Macaroni boiled for an hour. When I heard he was doing the job on other girls I

went to church and lit a candle."

They had all laughed but Lucy had felt her flesh twitching between her legs.