I grew up in a very stricken Muslim society in arab. I was not allowed to show my face and even skin. I used to wear abaya, hijab, gloves and cover my...elf from top to bottom like most arab girls in saudi arab. I was taught by my mother and elders not to look at men and stay away from them. So I was following that way and religious Islamic law. In my teenage. I had feelings to speak and look at men and started to like men. I had interest to listen stories from other women while talking about. "You ready for daddy's cock?" Yes please!!" "You know what they say right? Once you go black you never go back. After you take this black cock you never gonna want anything else!" Give it to me!!"And with that I felt the head of his cock thrust into me. It hurt and felt like it didn't belong there. He held my hips in place and slowly started inching it in further. I could feel him driving deeper inside of me. I couldn't help but moan. The pain was slowly fading and he was slowly starting to go. ’ Sam called. He wanted to hit West Hollywood, hit some titty bars on Sunset and he wanted some company. Sure, I said, why not. Can’t hurt, right? I guess once upon a time a depraved heart could find anything it desired in West Hollywood, along Sunset Boulevard, America’s Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Failed actors and actresses, down to their last dime and desperate, found ready cash in the back seats of the cars of those who’d ‘made it big’ in the city, and Sam had trolled these streets for so. ‘You, too.’ Her cheeks colored. She shrugged. ‘It’s nice, isn’t it? Having someone to come home to.’ I pursed my lips a moment. It was . . . ‘Sure is.’ We just stared at each other, sharing another of those awkward moments before we both laughed self-consciously. ‘Hey, uh . . . so how was Baylor?’ Angie rolled her eyes. ‘Not worth the tuition,’ she said with a dry laugh. ‘Really, it was all right. That’s where I met Sam, so I guess it was worth it.’ ‘Sam . . . your husband?’ Angie nodded. She.
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