Tugging the sides of my jeans down over my hips, down the pale softness of my thighs…my knees… my calves… my ankles. Laying rough kisses inhale all the way back up my ankles… my calves… my knees… my thighs. Your hand between my legs, teasing me through my panties, hot breath in my ear, my teeth firmly into your shoulder, my nails leaving half moons in the blades, it burns it burns my breathing ragged and hot against your skin. Your arm wrapping around my legs from behind my knees, i can’t feel the ground me throwing my arms around your neck as you’re carrying me down the hall. Your clothing in a careless pile on the floor along with mine. Steam filling the room, imprinting itself on the mirror, the shower doors. Your arms around me, beads of water on your shoulders, streams running down your chest, my hands running down the sides of your body, nails softly pulling lines up the outsides of your thighs. Soft kisses lighting on your cheeks, your neck, my lips brushing up against. And I let my mind wander and reminisce on the walk to my car. My sexual maturity was a long time coming. I was eighteen when I lost my virginity to Bryan. He was my high school sweetheart, and we waited until my senior prom to do it. We were two inexperienced people stumbling through the motions of soiling our purities. Five minutes of fumbling led to three minutes of pain for me and three minutes of pleasure for Bryan. Climaxing and pleasure came a year later for me and not at the hands of Bryan. My roommate taught me. She gave me instructions on pleasuring myself. Actually, she gave me a one-on-one coaching. Jordan’s demonstrations showed me just how ill informed I was about sex, pleasure, and my body. I knew nothing about masturbation. But I was about to learn. It happened late one night with Jordan, my roomy, during the beginning of my sophomore year in college. She’d come in late from an Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity party. Dazed, I heard her stagger in, remove her clothes, and.
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