When I was at a football game in fifth grade, two boys who were 3 years older than us thought it was funny to pin my friend and I down to the ground and threaten us with lewd and suggestive remarks. We felt helpless and alone. When they finally let us go we ran for the bathroom because that was the one place we knew they couldn't follow. I can't imagine what we would have done if we felt even there was unsafe. We didn't even hesitate we both ran like our lives were at stake and that was the only protection. My children and I were on the return trip gone after visiting family several states away.
The young man looked her over, amusement tugging at his lips. Indeed, he was only twice her age. He bent over, resting his palms on his knees to bring himself to her eye level.
Here Are Some of the Stories You Shared.
I crawled out of bed, still wearing my Cracker Barrel uniform from the night before and managed to make my way over to the coffee machine. I grabbed my pumpkin spiced coffee, walked over to the couch, and opened his laptop. It was like the television was somehow warning me.
I made the first move, touching his knee and then sliding my hand up his inner thigh. We fucked—fast—in the laundry room, where we had a view of the driveway in case my mom came back. What I never suspected is that things would ever escalate from there. I squirmed in shock for approximately three-point-five seconds before melting into her rough but tender embrace. I returned the favor, of course, and I can honestly say I like licking pussy more than sucking dick. We fucked in the living room, her on top, flicking her own nipples like a pro as she rode me, whispering all sorts of sexy shit in that seductive voice of hers. Fifteen minutes after we both came, she wanted it again, so I gave it to her—in the kitchen, from behind this time. After we ate them, we walked to this remote corner of campus with a cooler of beers and some chips to snack on. When he touched me, it was like a thousand male hands were caressing my flesh all over at once.