My head was dizzy and my legs shaking when he lifted me easily off the floor and placed me in his bed. I remember the smell of his sheets and how they reminded me of him sitting at the diner talking with me over coffee and raisin toast. I was embarrassed, mortified really, by how wet and ready I was for him. He placed his hand between my thighs and I whimpered like a beaten dog. He shushed me gently and told me it was ok and that he was very happy that I responded to him that way. It made him feel like a whole man. I assured him that he was in my eyes and he entered me with one slow, long, powerful, thrust. I felt as though I was being torn in two. I could feel him sliding all the way into me, it was such a snug fit and I thought his length would travel inside of me forever. Just when it became unbearable to me and I was beginning to think he wouldn’t ever fit properly inside me, he held still, embedded in me the entire length, it was still so very painful but bearably so. He. For almost three years Mona and I would get together about every two or three months. She would either fly into South Florida for a weekend or I would fly into New Orleans, rent a car, and drive over to the Gulf Coast for a long weekend. If I thought I had made Mona my slut, I sold myself short because I took her to levels of slutiness that I never imagined that I could get her too. Shortly after my first time with Mona, she broke up with her boyfriend and started dating. This was not at my request because it added a level of nastiness to know that she was my whore and someone else’s girlfriend. During this period she found that she loved dating young men in their late 20’s or early 30’s. The first time she came down to see me, I broke out my Polaroid which was BD (before digital) camera to take a few naked pictures of her and she freaked out and wouldn’t let me. By the next trip she was eagerly posing and asking if I wanted to take pictures which of course I did. In the two or three.
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