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.My heart skips a beat just looking at him.He takes my hand, we dance, and I love the feeling of his strong armsaround me.By the time the dance ends I'm trembling with a feeling I cant put myfinger on.Then he kisses me, and I can name it.I'm in love with him.I want him to hold me, and kiss me, and do things I am not equipped forwith me ....Then I wake up, crying.I dont know what to do about this.I dont know who I can talk to.I know dreams aren't real, but it comes from somewhere, but where?And its not just the dream. Sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror, andI look .... wrong, somehow. I look and I half-expect to see the girl frommy dream looking back at me.And the fact she doesn't is a grief I cant even begin to describe ....I've got to pull myself together, shake this off somehow.I wish I had someone to talk to about this, but who?My dad is a man's man, he's counting on me to follow in his footsteps. Goto collage, be the Big Man on Campus, marry a girl just like mom, he'dnever. I sighed with pleasure as I felt her pubic mound against my face. Her slightly parted legs drew my eyes to the closely trimmed hair between her legs. I’d never been with a black girl before, so when the moon moved from behind the clouds, I saw that her pubic hair was finer than I expected, silky soft. Awe struck, I could only stare. Raising her arms above her head, Cassandra stretched like a cat, her legs spreading wide, exposing her womanhood to my scrutiny. Then with a mischievous smile, she reached up and twisted her fingers in my hair and pulled my face down to her crotch. My tongue slid slowly and softly up the center, tracing the outline of the outer lips. Then with a wanton moan, my tongue danced up the length of Cassandra’s slit, the tip parting her lips and slipping slightly into her, tasting her essence. The sweet taste drove me to the edge, almost making me cum. Continuing its journey, my tongue slipped up her slit in search of her clit. Finding her swollen clit,.
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She would smile, laugh, honk her horn and then I'd walk around and join her at the garage.We weren't hermits, but neither of us liked much company. I was always a very private person and so was Michele. Every now and then, we'd have one of her old girlfriends over for dinner and a movie, or one of mine over for same. But most of the time, we were perfectly happy to enjoy each other's company in complete isolation, and that meant we could be very lax about what we chose to wear or not wear around the house. Sometimes, I would go almost a week without wearing a stitch.Inside the house, I was always completely naked and did everything in the nude, including writing and adding to my ever-growing porn collection. Unlike my former girlfriend, my new bride was true to her word and never once frowned on my porn library. She liked some of it and would cycle through some of the pictures and watch some of the action clips with me from time to time. I was a hopeless case, though, and she just.

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