Shakeela When She Was Young
Oh. I... But... His hand is on my crotch and I'm hard - was hard before he touched me. Was hard when he sat down to talk to me. I'd wondered. For the longest time. I'd wondered. I tried dating girls. I kissed a few. I just... it just doesn't work. After a certain age, I watched men more. And then, more subtly, I heard my parents talking late at night. After they saw me checking out a man. Fighting. Arguing. Wondering if I was gay. I am. I want him. This man that smells faintly of cologne. "Yes," I tell him. He's a little over six feet tall to my five and a half. He takes my hand and pulls me along and I watch him walk. So confident. So sure of himself and not self-consciously worrying about anyone else around him. He drops my hand five feet from the bathroom and goes in. I breathe deeply a few times and then push the door open - just to see him going into a stall. The bathroom is empty. Thank God. Thank God. The stalls are large and, if I weren't drunk, I might wonder if that's on. Then his face lit up. He didn’t say a word. He turned off the TV, took my hands and led me to the couch. He kissed my neck and began to unzip my shorts. In one motion, he slid them off me along with my panties. I became tense all of a sudden. I started to wonder. What if he doesn’t like how I smell? What if he doesn’t like how I taste? Why didn’t I wear some sexy underwear? Then a more important question. What if Selena walked in on us right now? ‘Relax,’ he said, as he sat me down. He knelt, kissed my cheek. Then our lips touched, briefly. I wanted more. He placed his big hands on the inside of my thighs and gently pushed them apart and lowered his head. He was so close, I could feel his breath on my skin. I knew what was about to happen. I slid forward and leaned back. He kissed his way up my thighs. Slowly. I became wet with anticipation. My heart was racing again. He kissed my pussy. I felt appreciated, needed even. I started to relax. I closed my eyes. I felt his tongue pry.
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