" We both laughed. I noticed that she didn't remove my hand but put one of her hands on top of it squeezing gently and pulling it up further until it ...isappeared under the black girl's skirt.I thought my pecker was done for the day but I could feel it slowly firming up inside of my pants. I was glad that I had dress pants on instead of my usual confining jeans.I massaged the inside of her trembling thigh, working my fingers up towards my goal. She spread her legs slightly as she looked around. And if we’re lucky, we hold our dreams sacred despite the cuts and scars, the flaws in character, the plans which count for nought. The Imam, assuming he had died that day, would have held his wild dreams to heart and would have never let go.There must be a place in the darkest fires of Hell where these dreamers stay. The flesh must singe, and the brain must boil. The darkness must be complete, and the depressions maddening. And within this dark place, the Imam must have heard the cries of. More

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