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Nice. We walk toward each other and I notice something familiar about this girl. Holy shit. Julie.I’m in this weird state of shock. Julie lives about four miles away in Santa Monica so it is not completely unusual to see her here. Julie notices me and smiles. I just stare at Julie incredible body. I have never seen so much skin on her. This girl is ripped. “Hey!” She smiles. I smile and exchange excited small talk. “So do you live around here?” Julie asks me. I pointed to the apartment building. I focused in on the room and watched him slowly work his cock. As I scanned around the room, I saw something on top of the TV. A sheet of paper; and in big, bold letters… "The front door is unlocked."I was unsure what to do. I mean, basically he was inviting me over to watch him masturbate and maybe more. Well as the saying goes…"In for a penny, in for a pound" or maybe a pounding.I walked over to his townhouse and casually opened the door. I heard a beep from the entey alarm… so he knew I. It eventually got to the psychological conditioning that every time I saw it hanging in my wardrobe, I got horny.I was sixteen and having sex regularity, so much so that I was not fazed, in fact outside wearing my pink little number, I started experimenting with getting turned-on, especially on nights I was out and not wearing it.On this night in particular I was wearing it, I added spice by wearing stockings and belt, a thong but went braless, as my nipples would stick through the woollen. A shrug. Nonchalance that she doesn’t feel. Then a long sigh. ‘I already chose. I’m here. I’m happy.’ A pause. ‘I am, I’m happy.’ ‘If you’re happy, why are you out here? Why are you running?’ Another tear begins its journey down her cheek as she resumes playing with her hair. ‘Because it still hurts. To know that I was wrong. To feel like maybe I wasted…. something. To wonder if I’m wrong now. To feel like I’m permanently trapped between choices.’ She glares. ‘You didn’t tell me it.
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