He asked me for coffee. Wetalked for hours, into the evening despite how little I had to talkabout! Instead, he told me about himself and I knew I rig...t then I wasalready in love with him. I was meant to stay at a hotel until someonecould find a more permanent place for me, but Mike asked me back to hisplace.He said he wasn't the kind of guy to have a one-night stand and offeredme his bed while he would take the couch. But the connection I felt wastoo strong and I made the first move. We made. I kept getting more and more attention at school. I was growing a bit, and my clothes fit a little smaller. I started catching boys looking at me, and girls giving me weird looks. I loved wearing pants and shorts that showed my pantyline. I had a teacher, Mr. Anderson, who I caught looking at my butt a few times. He was a fat, ugly, old white man that I didnt like at all. I would go up to his desk and walk away shaking my hips a little more than usual. I didnt really notice an ass on myself,. It all blended together in a perfect combination of tastes - there could have been cinnamon in there, but I’d never have picked it out from the blend of everything else.My nod caused an unfamiliar sensation on my chest, but I tried not to focus on it as I sipped Marty’s latest amazing concoction.That morning, when I’d woken up, my nipples had been strangely sensitive. They weren’t sore, exactly, but there was something strange. It wasn’t until I looked in the mirror that my eyes had boggled,. So, the entire time I have lived in the states, the only black guys that I knew of were your neighborhood street types, not very clean, or intelligent, it didn't help change my parents teaching when I saw guys like that walking around with their pants all the way down or swearing and yelling and being abusive to anyone around them. I was grossed out by the idea when my husband asked me if I would ever want to "do" a black guy. "Oh Hell No!!" was my answer. Earlier in our marriage when I would.
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