Yours was painful for you, mine was a relief. I know I want you in my life, but I'm not sure how you feel about that. I haven't been intimate with a...woman, since before my wife died. I couldn't give myself to another woman, not out of loyalty, mind you. It was self preservation, I suppose. My wife, had numerous affairs. I knew of her indiscretions, she was never subtle about it. Her lovers would phone, when I was home, and she would leave to meet them. I stayed, for the sake of the. I didn’t like this new crowd he chilled with. Especially a tall, beautiful but shady-eyed young Black woman named Marguerite Simpson. Marguerite Simpson was the daughter of Oliver and Nikita Simpson, a wealthy Black couple from Atlanta. She attended Spellman College before transferring to Boston College. She was Jordan Sparrow’s new girlfriend. I didn’t like her. She was a loud-mouthed hussy who was filling his head with ideas. And she was taking him to clubs all the time. He was skipping. She had that healthy view of sex, which easily makes it boring: It's invented by God to further the human race, and by moms and poets to be a physical expression of romantic love. Ergo the perverted antics like oral, not to mention the more exotic doings you can meet on the net, were completely out of the question. Whenever I tried to spice up our sessions I was met with vehement rejections, and soon I learned to keep these ideas to myself, and later on to my trusty right hand.Don't get me. Our lips touched, only briefly, and then our tongues found their way deep into each other’s mouths.A part of me said to leave, but I couldn’t. I was hopelessly trapped. Jackie slipped her hands up under my t-shirt and in an instant, I found myself crossing my arms and stripping out of my shirt. Jackie lightly tongued my nipples, then sucked on each of them, as I unbuckled my jeans. We were past the point of no return or stopping.Jackie forced her hands past the elastic waistband of my boxer.