How could I not. Blackmen especially. That made me feel vulnerable and small. That madesomething stir in my clit, that's for sure. I was constantl... looking formirrors to do pantyline checks. I wasn't sure if I wanted my pantiesshowing through my jeans or not. I mean, probably not. I was alwaysrelieved when I could tell myself my panties weren't showing. But if theydid show, and men checked me and my ass out..I was always a little disappointed when I couldn't tell myself my pantieswere. Which, unfortunately, I did.I had been staring at him. For like the last week. Faroud and Peter both graduated and they were the only guys I knew I could trust. I could find a girl — hell, Beth was my Top while Peter's gone and Lisa was allowed — but by then I knew I was occasionally gonna want, gonna need, a guy to take me. I had learned — thanks to my cousin, Peter — that in addition to being practically addicted to sex with girls, I got off on guys pretty hard too.Mike was one of those 'guy'. More

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