Her gentle touch sent shivers through me and I could feel wetness between my thighs. I closed my eyes and sighed softly, "We shouldn't," I stammered n...rvously. I felt heart racing and hoped Caitlin couldn't hear it. "But you want to," Caitlin said playfully “you’ve been staring down my shirt all afternoon.” I looked down at the floor as my cheeks flushed crimson red; I could feel the familiar squishy feeling between my legs, and I was sure my panties were soaked. "No," I whispered, a lie that I. The burning on my face worried me; I might be blushing.The weight of his body and the situation made my head pound. What had I done to him to treat me like a homo? I’m not gay, I’m not gay, you have to believe me, I’m not. Why doesn’t he kill me? I’d be better off dead than have an erection at a man’s touch. Especially not a niggers.“Nothing hiding here,” he released me, rose, leaned into me again, whispered into my ear. “Closet faggot got a little, stiffy pee-pee, didn’t ya, boy?”“Stop, I’m. About this time Sheila started chatting by e-mail in her own right. She wrote that she was curious as to how, as a writer, I would set up a similar assignation in one of my stories. I had taken a deep breath and just written the reply to both of them off the top of my head.The e-mail looked like this:You wrote:Still in the same town but a lad, 19y/o, has 'copped on' to Sheila a couple of times when we have visited the same venue.Now this might seem more interesting, you did tell me I think, but. Another fifteen minutes went by and Veronica reached for her purse and looked if she was getting ready to get up and leave. This was my moment to make my move. I walked over to her and asked her if I could buy her a drink. Normally I would have never approached a good looking woman in a bar like this, but I knew Veronica was horny as hell and was intent on getting laid tonight. She smiled at me and accepted my offer and I asked her if I could join her. She told me that she had been stood up.