25 inches long and 5 around. I admit that I am self-conscious in the locker room and wish I was bigger when soft.Back to my story: I finished my showe... and walked to my locker. I found "Mr. Big" getting dressed right next to me. I noticed that like most really well-endowed men he put his undershirt and shirt on first, then his socks, his underwear and pants last. I quickly put on my boxers then my shirt before I spoke, joking that if there are two people in the locker room there seems to be a. Once again, he shook himself. He had never before felt drawn towards a kid. He balled his fists. Good God! Was he one of those terrible people who stalked children? Again and again, he told himself that he wasn't. He had met many children in the last years, the kids of coworkers and of friends. Anna's two kids. No, he never felt the urge to hug them. He shuddered, swearing to himself that he would seek help if this ever happened to him again.It took father and son until mid-afternoon to return. I felt disgusted, dirty & embarrassed. I tried cleaning up my thoughts but several weeks later I did again. I struggled with the guilt that something that had affected me negatively I was now reliving during masturbation & bringing myself to climax. Ive analyzed my dilemma & figured something triggered it & will write about that later. Ive searched the net for reasons why this was happening & couldnt find anything that involved women let alone BLACK WOMEN! So if there are any black women who. “I just, I’m not used to seeing you.” “Yeah, that kind of comes with being broken up,” I reply sharply. “I know, just,” he stops. “Come inside.” I take a few steps closer, walking up two steps so I’m standing on his front porch. “What game are you playing?” I ask. “Just, please come inside,” he says, gritting his teeth. My eyes wander to his lips, and then to his eyes. I know the look, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen it that I don’t know what it means. I cross my arms over my chest..