. touching his zipper… moving his hand over the bulge in his slacks… I could tell he was nice.. and I was licking my lips mentally. He smiled and ...aid No not yet… I think he was enjoying the sweet torture He moved close to the bed and reached down touching my cheek… rubbing softly…then ran his hand back into my hair…. his fingers tangled in it as he pulled back, leaning down he took my lips and mouth in a passionate kiss. His other hand was now pulling at my dress… when his fingers slid up and. Sensation begets sensation, and numbs his body, focusing him inwards, a single eye looking out upon the world. The girl flicks a lank strand of hair away from her face as the hostess speaks to her. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but their bodies sound like disdain and fear, condescension and shame. Over the seam, into the seam and back. His breathing grows more rapid, his heart pounding at her shame. Dirty girl, dirty girl, hello little dirty girl, he breathes softly to himself, imagining. More

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