You let out a little moan as out tongues dance and our lips follow. we are both embracing tightly and i slide your body a little closer to me. we kiss...hard for a few minutes more, lightly making sounds of delight and both wondering whats about to transpire. i then raise my head up and ask whats with the robe. you give me a devilish grin and whisper for me to sit down at the table. i smile back, give you a kiss and head to my seat with a good view of the edge of the counter. you then slide over. Tears welled up in her eyes, Julia told me of how her mom assumed we had had sex and she had sinned past forgiveness. This notion was probably justified by the hardcore flirtation letters sent between us. Slang and sex riddled in our prose that would make some rappers cry for censorship. As she sobbed she leaned on my shoulder as she rested her hand on my thigh and mine on her waist. She looked up and at a loss for words I kissed her gently, softer and more loving than we had ever had before. . I was born in the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and raised in provincial Ontario. These days, I’m studying police foundations at Algonquin College, and life simply couldn’t be better. I recently got out of a bad relationship. Actually, make that two bad relationships. Let me explain. My Somali ex-boyfriend Rahman Sharif cheated on me with my gal pal Genevieve Charles, and I dumped them both. I cuckolded Rahman with my former professor Bilal, and taught him a lesson he won’t soon forget. When it. And he was hung like a horse. Fucked like a machine.Among the folks at our party was our next door neighbor, whom I'll call "Richard,"a retired pro football player, a receiver. He retired after he broke his leg horribly in the Big Game three years before. He was about 30, and still in tremendous physical shape and always would be. 6' 4", about 225 pounds, broad shoulders, tapering down to a thin waist. He always wore snug clothes to show off his muscled body. His pants were so tight, you.