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I go home and fantasize about her, my first ejaculation yet to come... I bathe in the cool waters under the bride, letting sweet nothing angels whisper in my head, guilt for the small fat black haired woman I feared to date in shameful self-image. Each day, I would stare on and on, into the heavens, waiting for that angel to come down. I aggressively, then tenderly, called for her love. Her sweet angel tan body, luscious and curved like a motherly swan rescuing me from my low self-esteem. I, in strange, theatrical madness cursed her for her lack of love profession, for loving my face, my hair, my strong, powerful body, but not that crude disgusting thing lurking in my pants. That silent, grotesque lump of God-given clay yet to be molded, for all hope, to die in the dust with the humming of the cortex, those strange fibers of consciousness wrestling angsty teenage love, my sweet Kimberly... she'd dated someone I'd thought my friend. Society's law kept me from killing him. I would wake. The experienced couple had take up a spot on the other side of the bed, he had come over to stand at the side and she had positioned herself to begin sucking his cock. The newbie man had taken the chair I had vacated to watch for a minute, and eventually my date whispered to me to go suck his cock, so I got up and walked over to him where he sat. I asked if he minded if I joined him over there, and would it be ok if I took his pants off. He said of course to both, and very soon he was sitting on the chair again, this time nude, and I knelt down in front of him. He did seem a little nervous, so I thought he might appreciate a nice slow start so I began by taking all of his limp cock into my mouth, the soft pliable flesh resting on my tongue, and gently toyed with it, rolling my tongue around, sucking softly, making it wet and thus slippery. It wasn't huge, but it was a very nice 6", it filled my mouth enough that I could get the head just into my throat, and from his breathing,.
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