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The day that she told me she had, found out what was going on, I meant, was also the best day of my life.
It was the winter break of our junior year at college.
The break gave me the opportunity to avoid her without having to bump into her in classes and so on.

Staying at home also meant that I had the time to reevaluate my feelings.
I had just decided to stop loving her, not for the first time, when she came knocking on my apartment door that night.
I was having a Gilmore Girls marathon on Netflix, not expecting anyone to interrupt at all.

Reluctantly, I put away my laptop and the bowl of popcorn.
And when I saw that it was her, I knew that I had no choice but to face her for once and for all.

She was not smiling.

The look on her face was one of determination, like she was on a mission, a quest, so uncharacteristic of her usual cheery self that I was momentarily at a loss for words.
And she kissed me.
It was slow at first, Iloveyoufuck3 freehindi indian sex girl online video chatting. tentative, inviting.

Am I right, Penny? her kisses seemed to be asking, Am I right about you? As I kissed her back, I felt Top online dating services. a smile on her lips. Funyygirls teensex chat.
She pulled me closer, her hands tangled in my lengthy brown curls, on my neck, so close I could feel her heartbeat racing along with mine.

The familiar smell of sweetness that she emanated was making it hard for me to think.
People might be watching, I breathed between kisses.
She opened her eyes, and smirked.
Well then, let them.

And slipped her hand under my shirt to unclasp my bra and both its straps.
Gemma! Hush, hush, she said, and trailed kisses along my jaw and down my collarbone, and neck.
My bra, in all its pink frilly glory, dropped onto the floor with a dull thud.

As if sensing my fear, she finally pulled away and closed the door behind her.
The instant she left I felt the cold where her skin had been.
Every part of my brain screamed at me to walk away.
This isn’t right.

But something about it did feel perfectly right.
I was hungry for more.
Well, well, what have we got here? she asked playfully as she returned to me, tracing her finger along my small breasts, my stomach (she knew I was ticklish; I giggled), my hips, and finally, teasingly slowly, lifted off my shirt.
I stared at her, taking in every last bit of detail, as I hadn’t able to for the past few weeks: her golden locks, her freckled face, her soft brown eyes, the small, barely visible scar on her chin she got when she fell whilst cheerleading in high school, her large, pale breasts, still covered by layers upon layers of clothing I was itching to remove.

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