The door to desire. It’s been open and part of my life since I can remember. I used to chase Debbie Celecia in the 5th grade and by accident one sunny summer afternoon I squeezed her burgeoning young breast in a childish chase across my lawn in suburbia. I recall how soft it felt so much softer than the Spalding I would play punchball with on the asphalt streets of my hometown. It was fleeting that erotic perchance touch. She said nothing but my face was flushed as I came to an abrupt halt in my pursuit of this young beauty with long brown tresses down to her derriere. I remember it to this day I wonder if she does.
No comments:
Post a Comment