I stood there ready for someone to slip there cock into the hole. I was basically bent at the waist my ass out a bit so who walked by the open door c...n see i wanted someone to join. In other words, I was prone and ready, still nervous shy but wanted action. After about two minutes I felt a hand rubbing on my butt. He played with my lubed hole and put one then two fingers in. I was getting hard and wanted it bad. He played with me for a bit and left, I guess felt I was either to nervous or too. His shaving cream of choice was Barbasol, since it was affordable and effective. Thus, that is the brand I had handy to experiment with, before having any money of my own, or any way to get places on my own (before I had a bicycle), and so forth. Even pre-puberty, there was something fascinating about shaving cream. It was so much bigger OUTSIDE of the can that it was inside of the can. If you pressed the button with nothing near the nozzle, it came out in a long skinny snake, and that snake. My travels during the Civil War had led me to the conclusion that the average male slave harbored thoughts of being free and able to make their own decisions, but had little liking of the responsibility of owning property, forming a family or finding a way to put food on the table and taking care of all those little things that were taken care of by his former master. I confirmed the fact that the black men fighting on both sides of the conflict were capable military men and would often do. "Jesus." I let out involuntarily, "You're so soft, and tight." With that said, I looked around once again before I reached down and gently rubbed the outside of her cotton panties with my fingers, while still jerking my cock with my spare hand. I now stared right into her blue-grey eyes for any reaction as I proceeded to m***** the young harlot, and yet nothing. It was as though she was in another world. Emboldened, I then reached up to crudely grope her ripe young breasts through the almost.