”“Thank you?” I said more confused.“I’m going to date you.”“Wait a second here. Don’t I get a say in it?”“Well you could say yes.�...�“No I don’t think so.”“What do you have a type or something?”“Yeah and it’s not douche bag,” With that I turned back to my stuff. I couldn’t help but notice that Jason smirked.School passed by slowly. At lunch a bunch of girls invited me to sit with them. They were typical High School girls with all their gossip about who’s dating whom and what chick bought some. The moment I was at university and had the freedom to do whatever I wished I began to date Roberto who attracted me with his popularity and his slick, stereotypical bad-boy looks.We were soon having sex regularly. I would come over to his parents house when no one was home, and he would bend me over the kitchen table and plow himself into me. His penis felt a little bit on the small side, but what he lacked in size and girth he made up in enthusiasm. I really enjoyed having sex regularly, and I. He’d overheard enough talk over a pint or three at the local pub to know she was the subject of much speculation, most of it lust fueled. And who could blame them? His gaze wandered over her body, only a thin white shift hiding her treasures from him. She was slender, but the slenderness of a young woman, rather than a boy. Her breasts although small, were perfectly proportioned upon her, her narrow waist making them look larger than they actually were. She had the body of a dancer, a fitting. She had given her already perfectly manicured landing strip a little extra attention. She had scented her pussy with essence of smoked sandalwood. It was a favoured indulgence of hers. Then she had splashed her favourite Chanel perfume around quite liberally. She was wearing a red wool wraparound skirt with a hem to hip split on the left and a natural wool polo neck sweater. Underneath she had on an extraordinarily tiny white bra and a little white lace string that simply shouted Fuck Me. .