They all smiled and nodded. Mark looked at me and said, “Come on babe! Let’s go back to my place. You’ve made quite an impression on my friends....They want to continue the party.” For some reason, I went with Mark. *********************************************** The drive to Mark’s house was, shall we say, eventful. On the way there, Adam started rubbing my fake breasts thinking he was arousing me. He kept commented on how real and beautiful my breasts were, and that he couldn’t wait to suck on. I didn't pay them any mind, and strode into the mall, my exposed breasts jiggling.It opened onto a garish food court. Cheap Chinese food abutted cheap Mexican food abutted cheap Italian food, with two hamburger joints and a Shawarma shop thrown in for good measure. The tables were flimsy Formica, and accompanied by uncomfortable, plastic chairs. I looked around for anyone to have some fun with. A hunky, Black man accompanied by a rather plain-looking, overweight, White woman caught my eye. He. People watching me, people whispering…their eyes burning like demon fire. God how I wish they could walk for one day knowing what I know, feeling what I feel, feeling that life within me as it lives and moves and grows. I stare back to unsettle them, unblinking, unforgiving. They look away but the whispering continues. I have no one to whisper to. I have lost again and look away with eyes full of remorse and hurt and that glint of fear. Fear of the pain? No…more accurately described as fear of. You place my hands flat against the wall and continue to reach inside my dress and grab my breasts, using them to hold me against you as you kiss my neck and suck on my earlobes. I push my bum back, grinding against you. I can now feel exactly how excited you are. You turn me back around. Holding me, you direct me towards the dressing table where you sit me down on the surface top. You’re still kissing me but it’s less fierce and more passionate now. You push up my dress and rub your hands up.
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