“I’m not!” he replied sharply, breaking loose of my other nipple, and displaying both of his hands. Then I felt it again. His cock was pushing...against my clit, and down my vagina, searching for my opening. He was going to try and fuck me. I was getting lost in this, now, the tension of his touch, the tension of being bound helplessly, and the tension of fighting the clock. He scuttled just a hair closer to me, and was humping my crotch, my lubrication coating his cock, as he lips attacked. Of course they must ask me to leave my bag at the counter. It’s all part of Racial Profiling 101. In the eyes of America’s rulers, all black men are considered potential enemies of the Republic. Orders are to keep a watchful eye on them wherever they may be. I looked at the security guard and told him that I’d rather leave. With that, I walked out of the department store with my head high and contempt on my face for the enforcers of that biased policy. As I began the long trek home, I walked. More

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