She tossed her briefcase in the trunk, looking aroundnervously, as she?d never liked Master Sickles?sneighborhood too much. A couple of young black bo...s,adorned in baseball hats and doo-rags, laughed in herdirection. ?Whatchoo looking at, white ho?? onejeered, and Opal flushed, looking at the ground. Every week she promised herselfshe wouldn?t come back. Her therapist had worked with her for months. ?Opal,you?re a feminist, you?re a valuable person. You?re married to the presidentof one of?. And my nipples aren't too big or small. I have an okay face. I mean I’m not ugly but I know I am not drop dead gorgeous. I can’t stop a man in his tracks when he looks at my face. And my ass is nice but it’s not the main attraction, if you know what I mean. My tits are. My tits turn heads. My tits raise temperatures. My tits can get a man’s cock hard when I do a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Okay now back to the story.I dated my first boyfriend Mike when I was a senior in high. We begin chatting. The conversation flows smoothly. Although we started talking about the weather, talk turns to more personal things. She describes her sexuality as heterosexually voyeuristic. I challenge this, saying she appears dominant and exhibitionist.“What makes you think I am exhibitionist?” she demands to know.Giving her my most charming smile, I reply, “That housecoat you are wearing exhibits your body in a most revealing way.”“Yes, but that’s indoors with someone I know,” she retorts. "Hi, sweetheart. See, it didn't take long." Would it sound corny if I said it felt like forever?"I smiled, "A little, but I agree." I started walking towards her. "I thought of you the whole time." Me too…"I let my briefcase fall on the carpeted floor, and I hugged her, wrapping my arms around her lower back and taking her little feet off the floor. She already looked at me, waiting for the kiss, and that's precisely what I did. I felt like a teenager once again, excited, alive. Feeling her.