I made one appointment with the school counselor to talk about it, but I never told my friends how scared I felt in the woods, or how sad I felt afterwards. But he walked fast and was a few steps ahead of me, so I took double steps, stumbling to keep up with him. I was trying to decide if I liked it or not and leaning towards not when he told me to give him a blow job. My best friend couldn't go but I had a feeling that Patrick would be there so I decided to go by myself. Watching the barely-clad couples bouncing and thrusting on the dance floor, Rhia is asking herself the same question.
Watching the barely-clad couples bouncing and thrusting on the dance floor, Rhia is asking herself the same question. His hands were all over me and dried leaves scratched against my back and legs and my mind couldn't keep up with what was going on. I scrambled to gather my clothes and put them back on, and ran after him. Walking up to the clearing by the pond where the party was, I saw right away that Patrick was there and my stomach did flip-flops. But I sometimes wonder if my first sexual experience had been different, kinder, I would have been able to make better choices about the men I got involved with, could have gone down a different path. I didn't want to say it but I did, and he led me to the top of hill with a stream trickling by below. Looking back, I can't say that this one incident is solely responsible for damaging my sexuality and destroying my ability to trust. Sam increased the pressure of his finger against my mound, while he squeezed my nipple. Especially when the female dancer shifted her hips to the side to reveal her man's hard cock, rampant and ready for action. There was no label for what he did so it became a violation I couldn't name, and I could convince myself that it wasn't a big deal. Leaning back against the door, I slid to the ground. I kept it in the wrapper and tucked it into my purse, and when I got home I hid it underneath my bottom desk drawer, next to my diary with the tiny gold lock. Threading our way through lust-filled couples, naked breasts bouncing energetically while bare asses flexed and thrust, I quickly grew aroused and would have been happy to stop anywhere for further observation. He was tall and the hill was steep so it was hard to balance and I was afraid I was going to fall backwards, but I didn't. I made one appointment with the school counselor to talk about it, but I never told my friends how scared I felt in the woods, or how sad I felt afterwards. One of his hands cupped a breast while the other was busy under her short skirt. He led me to a table near the back, by the smoking section, and slid into the booth across from me. It's almost always the same. Just as I feared I might have to abandon my reservations and attack my companion right then and there, he stopped and spun me into his arms until my back was pressed to his chest, my butt snuggled against his groin. But when he pulled me toward the dance floor, I hesitated. I'm back in those woods, and Patrick's there, too, a few steps ahead of me as I wind down the dirt path, stumbling in the dark. I couldn't believe this was actually happening! Then he dropped his shorts to his ankles, put his hands on my shoulders, and pushed me down. So why is Rhiannon Lassiter sitting alone in a club created for carnal play? Neither happened very often but when they did, I was so excited about these brief glimpses and conversations.
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