As I drove among the congestion, I mused about life, my life.I was a poor girl, educated by Catholic nuns, was going to be one! It was on my way home from Notre Dame High School when he stopped me. He blocked the sidewalk as I walked home from my bus stop. I was, only sixteen, Asian, he five years older, white.He’s the first man I kissed.Engaged with parent’s acquiescence on my seventeenth birthday, I gave my underage marriage consent, for security, to escape a dysfunctional family, because I didn't know how to say no. Engaged, he assumed control, ensured my virginity on the altar. A year later, we married, I just turned eighteen, he twenty-three. I’ve never known another man. Now twenty-five, I’m meeting my first real date. I’m being me, at last. Conversing with myself between stoplights, I rewrote my personal history to justify meeting a man, not my husband.Approaching Michael’s restaurant in Sunnyvale, our meeting place, however, my rationalized confidence dissipated, replaced. Each stroke coming quicker than the last as he fucked her sweet face. she gaged several time and once he felt warmth on his toes and looked down and she had peed on her self he could see the tears in her eyes and he wanted to cum but pulled his cock out instead and asked why his toes where wet. angelas face was red in embarrassment as she answered, " I wet my self, I am sorry Mr. Jones i dont know what happened, please don't be mad." She lied as he had been fucking her mouth her ass had been moving on the couch cushions and it had been rubbing her clit and her pussy lips and she had came, and in the middle of her orgasm he had hit the back of her throat and she had just let go of her self, it had been amazing, but know she was embarrassed. She jerked his cock in her hand trying to distract him. "I am not angry, now I know you are a little freak and that you like to cum. I think its time for you to lose your cherry little lady." He said as he knelt between her legs and kissed her full.
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