He clasps me tight against him with one arm, leaning his chest into mine, pinning me back against the wall. He strokes me with the other hand, trailin... it down my back, over my hips, and down to my pussy.He gently strokes the soft bare lips. He teases my clit with his thumb while letting his fingers slide along my slit. A slow heat blooms in my pussy and spreads throughout my body.I arch against him and feel his cock hardening against my leg. I alternate between clinging to him and running my. We headed home. Except for a blow job so she could sketch my erection we didn't make love. I modeled nude. She sketched. We talked. I told her about the City and my artist friends and the high school for artists in Harlem. We cuddled and slept. My mother arrived around sunrise waking me. She looked exhausted. She went to bed. I stayed up thinking.When light broke through the window the little whore awoke. "You're still here. I'm still here," she said quietly."Let's go have breakfast," I said.We. More

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