That spring we dated, necked and petted a little, she had absolutely no experience, had barely been kissed. We got to the point where she would let me...fondle and squeeze her tits, but only outside her blouse. I would play with her ass and run my hands down her thighs. But when I would start to unbutton her blouse or try to run my hand up under her skirt she would take my hand and move it, back on her tit or ass but over not in her clothes. She was ‘waiting’ until it was right. I was not to be. When she noticed me, she turned away. I eased my way up to her. Normally I would’ve just shut my door and pretended like I hadn’t seen a thing, but for some strange reason, I felt like she needed someone to talk to and what the heck! It would be my good deed for the day. ‘Are you okay?’ I asked her. ‘Why do you care,’ she said accusingly. ‘I’m just a whore to you.’ ‘Whoa lil’ mama,’ I said, looking at her. ‘You don’t know me well enough to assume shit about me. I was just trying to make sure. More

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