----------
Author's Note: As some of my readers have indicated, some of the stories I have posted are just that, stories. Some, however, are very true. I'll leave it up to the reader to decide which ones they think are based on fact, and which are based on fiction, although a careful reading should give hints to which is which.
To those whom would offer the criticism based upon race, motivation of the characters, or other opinions not related to the actual prose, keep them to yourself. It is those hateful comments that have kept me from continuing on.
----------
By now, Jewan and I were together almost constantly, although Summer was soon coming to an end, and I was due to move away to the dorm-life of college. I was going to live in the same state, but far enough away that commuting was impossible. In a way, I was very excited. A new world, new people, and the shedding of the protectiveness of my parents, especially my dad. Daddy always meant well for me, I knew that deep down in my heart, but at the time, it was almost oppressive. I was also moving away from Jewan, and while it would mean leaving his cock behind, it also meant the chance to meet others, perhaps, and to see what other people were like.
At the time, I didn't really understand it, but I had become an addict. I loved men, and more particularly, the feel of a man as he did what men do to women. In my case, I had experienced a few men by now, including that awful Mr. Davis. He was a brute of a man, and had come calling several times. Every time he used that same threat of extortion, to tell my parents about me and Jewan. The man was also depraved in his wants, some of which I gave into, and some I refused. But we can talk about that in another chapter. Right now, I should talk about what happened not long after Jewan had shared me with his cousin, the guy who weighted what felt like 1000 pounds, and damn near suffocated me in his pathetic attempt to have sex.
It was late afternoon, and I was over at Jewan's again. I had taken to going to his house more and more, as my Daddy came home from work early one day, and almost caught Jewan balls deep into me on the living room floor. So I thought it best to go to his house, even though it might be a little unsafer for me in some ways, but at the time I knew it was safer than my Daddy catching us. So I was at his house, wearing a thin nylon wrap dress, baby-pink, and with some low sandaled heels. I went bra-less, as I never could stand the way that the bra straps stuck out like sore thumbs, so my C-size breasts were only supported by how tight I wrapped and tied the fabric around me, which was pretty tight. The cut gave my cleavage a pretty deep exposure, and the curving hemline in the front gave rise to a view almost half-way up my thigh, even though the dress was knee-length. I had also worn panties again, even though Jewan disapproved, but after being scared by Daddy, I chose the safer clothing. Jewan was disappointed, and showed it by withholding his cock from me for about a week, but in the end, I think his lustful need took a greater share of his ego, and he let it go. I think part of it was that I also wear thin, lacey ones, and even have a few that are the French-over the hip cut.
I knocked on his door, and as I waited, it struck me odd that his parents were always coming and going at odd times, and they never seemed to be together for long. They never went to any of the neighbor's parties, and they never went to church, either. I shrugged it off as the door opened, and there was Jewan, looking at me with those deep brown eyes, and corn-rowed hair, looking sloppy in his oversized shirt and baggy shorts, and tennis shoes without socks. He let me in and closed the door, and immediately kissed me, and I felt that marvelous tingle of his lips on mine, as his tongue and mine began to swap spit and caress each other. My hands rose to his shoulders, and he began to slide me sideways, until my back was to the wall in front of the stairway leading upstairs, and I thought for certain he was going to take me to his room. We kissed and I felt his hands sliding up and down my body, and his fingers clutched at my breasts, palming and squeezing them, and my nipples grew hard, sticking out like little grapes into the nylon fabric covering them. We kissed longer and longer, coming up for air and then kissing some more. My hands slid down his dark skin, my French-manicured nails a wonderful contrast to his skin, which was really dark, like he was from Africa.
He continued to explore, or more accurately, re-acquaint, his fingers to my body, and I did nothing to dissuade him. I moaned softly and he grunted from time to time, and we continued to neck, making out right there in the foyer. Finally, after what seemed like hours, his hand began to play down my thigh to my crotch, and the overlapping fold of my dress. His fingers were rough, but gentle in their caress, and he would slide them up the inside of my thigh, and then down the front, only to repeat the oval, each time going higher and higher, until he was brushing my panties with the back of his fingers. Each time I felt his touch against my panties, I moaned, and let my pelvis thrust softly against it. I was getting hotter and hotter, and I knew my vagina was getting well-ready for his cock, just as soon as he would give it to me, which I hoped would be damn soon.
My own hands were not idle, and they also caressed and touched him, laying across the back of his neck, and caressing his head, and down his back, and to his butt, where I grabbed those hard cheeks and pulled him against me. I let a finger slide inside the waistband of his shorts, and slid it back and forth from the back and around to the front, and then back again, each time trying to make them go lower and lower, so they'd get out of the way.
"Yeah, baby..." he would softly tell me, "I knows you want it, and you can't get enough of me."
