His hand reached up and cupped my ass, the other guiding my head down to his. Our lips touched and he guided the kiss again.My hands roamed his body. ...t wasn't like touching a woman. It was hard and solid, masculine. I traced his muscles with my hand. I broke the kiss, I moved to his nipple. My girl hated it, I loved playing with nipples, having mine played with. I shook her out my head, and kissed the black nub. I licked around it, the oil on his skin lingering on my tongue. I covered it with. Over time, I began to recover from the sense of loss of my relationship with Shelly. It still hurt, but as each month passed, the hurt was a little less. I didn't even consider finding a replacement for her. I didn't think it was possible. I was resigned to casual dating. I would date, but usually only the same girl once or twice. There wasn't anything wrong with any of them, but I was in no mood to commit myself to another. I'd been burned twice now, and I began to wonder what it would take to. More

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