Slowly, reverantly, I opened one of the doors. But instead of wintercoats, there were little girl dresses hanging in The Wardrobe. Eventhough they wer... all too small for me, I still found myself admiringthem and wishing I could try them on.Then the voice came to me. Well, not actually a voice, but a sort of...thought. It was the same thought that had brought me to this warehouse,this crate, and this wardrobe. The thought was saying, I must moveforward. With my heart thumping with both fear and. I was still relatively inexperienced but I knew what it meant when a girl got wet. I looked at her modest white panties and could see the crotch had been worked well between her outer lips and that the crotch was soaked. She held her legs closed. I started at her calves and ran my hands up past her hips and to her breasts as I leaned in for some more passionate kisses. I rested my weight on her and pressured her with my right leg and she parted hers slightly. I ground my denim covered. Only this kiss was a bit different. It was full of love, rather than pure lust. It was as if we were telling each other via our tongues how much we cared for each other. I felt a tear drop onto my cheek, and I knew it wasn’t from me. I opened my eyes and slowly ended our wonderful kiss. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I inquire as I wipe your tear-stained cheeks with my thumb. “Nothing’s wrong. That’s just it. Everything is perfect! I’m with the woman that I love... A woman who spoils me... A woman that. A black man in his 50s, who had been sitting with Andy, pushed his way between my legs, moving a couple of the other guys out of the way. I realised he was going to be the first to fuck me and the way the queue was forming behind him he wouldn’t be the last. His wife stood near by egging him on.“Fuck that white slut honey,” she called.The music was loud, but not loud enough to hide the voices of the women calling out to their husbands to get in the queue. The black man placed the tip of his.