As I continue to write about my early sexual experiences, more of the details from my past seem to become revealed. This is what I now remember to have occurred leading up to the basement splash. For the entire week whenever I would talk to my boyfriend, I hinted about my new red panties. By the time the weekend rolled around we were both quite desperate to expose them. I had on a white denim mini skirt that gapped at the waist any time I bent over. My boyfriend arrived at my front door for dinner, which was becoming more and more of a typical event as my family had accepted him wholeheartedly. My acceptance of him started with my heart but had definitely moved south in the past year. I led him into the living room and we both sat down on the front couch. As I leaned forward in the process of planting my derriere on the seat cushion, my boyfriend took the opportunity to slip his hand down inside the waistband of my skirt. He was so determined to get a hold of my satin covered cheeks that he shoved his hand far enough down my back to completely cup one of them. All of this was done while I was in the act of sitting down. Once my posture settled on the sofa, his hand was trapped inside my skirt gripping my barely covered cheek. As I wiggled enjoying the constant fondling of my bottom, my mother decided to walk into the living room to casually talk to my boyfriend. When you are young you think that your parents can't notice certain activities such as having your boyfriend's hand implanted down the back of your skirt. My mother never let on that she noticed anything, but it is difficult to believe that she didn't. The conversation was normal asking my boyfriend about school and his part time job, but I couldn't help fidgeting with his fingers constantly gripping my cheek. My entire face turned red with embarrassment causing my mother to ask if I was feeling all right. As I replied that I was OK, my boyfriend wriggled his fingers deeper down my back until the tips were at the front door of my most erogenous zone. I felt that if I parted my legs, my mother would see two fingers poking out from
As I continue to write about my early sexual experiences, more of the details from my past seem to become revealed. This is what I now remember to have occurred leading up to the basement splash. For the entire week whenever I would talk to my boyfriend, I hinted about my new red panties. By the time the weekend rolled around we were both quite desperate to expose them. I had on a white denim mini skirt that gapped at the waist any time I bent over. My boyfriend arrived at my front door for dinner, which was becoming more and more of a typical event as my family had accepted him wholeheartedly. My acceptance of him started with my heart but had definitely moved south in the past year. I led him into the living room and we both sat down on the front couch. As I leaned forward in the process of planting my derriere on the seat cushion, my boyfriend took the opportunity to slip his hand down inside the waistband of my skirt. He was so determined to get a hold of my satin covered cheeks that he shoved his hand far enough down my back to completely cup one of them. All of this was done while I was in the act of sitting down. Once my posture settled on the sofa, his hand was trapped inside my skirt gripping my barely covered cheek. As I wiggled enjoying the constant fondling of my bottom, my mother decided to walk into the living room to casually talk to my boyfriend. When you are young you think that your parents can't notice certain activities such as having your boyfriend's hand implanted down the back of your skirt. My mother never let on that she noticed anything, but it is difficult to believe that she didn't. The conversation was normal asking my boyfriend about school and his part time job, but I couldn't help fidgeting with his fingers constantly gripping my cheek. My entire face turned red with embarrassment causing my mother to ask if I was feeling all right. As I replied that I was OK, my boyfriend wriggled his fingers deeper down my back until the tips were at the front door of my most erogenous zone. I felt that if I parted my legs, my mother would see two fingers poking out from
Exposed%207.docx