Crazy Indian Girl
"Nah-uh, my turn." With a purr his eyes dropped to her skimpy halter top, the only thing keeping him from seeing what he wanted. Placing his hands on her hips he slid his palms up her sides, taking the shirt with them as his thumbs hooked the material in the web between them. His fingers slid along her stomach and as he reached the bottoms of her breasts again he moved his hands away to fully remove the garment.She was trying so hard not to grab his hands so she could put them on her breasts, which felt heavy and hungry for his touch. Yet watching his lust-glazed eyes roam over her bare torso felt just like the touch she was craving. The halter she had worn had not been made to wear a bra with and she applauded her choice of attire for the evening. When he finally reached out and let his knuckles drift over the swells of her breasts she purred, even moaning softly as his thumbs flicked over her rose colored nipples. Licking her lips she reached towards him and pressed the palm of her. When we got home, I went straight to my room. I closed the door, sat on the floor in the corner by my bed, and I started crying. My anger switched to fear. I started calling different friends, hoping I'd hear something that would give me the courage to come out to my family. One of my friends had come out a few months prior, and her family disowned her. I was on the phone with her, trying to keep my voice together, and she told me it would be OK. As I heard my siblings getting ready to leave for their friends' houses, I knew my window of opportunity was closing. That was the moment. I hung up the phone, opened my bedroom door, walked down the hallway into the kitchen with my head down, and started crying. All my anger left. All my fear left. I felt exhausted, defeated, and vulnerable. In between sobs, I said, 'I'm gay.' The aftermath: I had less support than I realized I would have, which included a mock coming-out party, rainbow-painted cake, and a coming-out CD with Diana Ross'.
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