1. First Date After


    Date: 9/20/2015, Categories: Mature, Author: ClarkRoberts, Rating: 18, Source: LushStories

    freaked out about what others might think about you. Personally, I don’t give a damn, if people what people think.” I was hesitant and stammered, “I don’t know, Rory.” “Come on it’ll be fun,” he insisted and then added, “I have always wanted to date an angel.” “I’m no angel,” I retorted emphatically. “Au contraire, I disagree. Let me show you something.” He reached into his hip pocket and pulled out his wallet. Removing a photograph, he handed it to me and explained, “I took this photo right before I went into the Army. I carried it in my helmet when I was in combat.” To my surprise the photograph was of me, taken during one of the neighborhood’s pool parties. The photo was definitely from a few years back because I no longer had the swimsuit I was wearing in the picture. It was a simple, but flattering white one-piece swimming suit. It had a scooped front that presented plenty of my ample cleavage. My face warmed with a blush when I noticed that the photo showed my nipples tenting the fabric of my swimsuit, announcing that they were hard. The swimsuit had a high-cut leg and clung tightly to my body, too tightly I determined. My blush grew even more flushed as I noticed the swimsuit clinging to my pussy in an obvious camel-toe. Taken in front of a glass sliding door, my backside reflected in the photo. Plainly visible were the bottom quarters of my butt-cheeks peeking from the swimsuit. “You look so hot,” complimented Rory. His voice tinged with a hint of sexual huskiness. I ...
    gasped. The realization that he had probably gotten sexually aroused in the past by my risqué appearance in the photo turned my embarrassment into anger. I tore the photo in half. The pieces fell to the ground. “Are you crazy?” yelled Rory, kneeling and picking up the pieces of the destroyed photo. His voice broke with emotion as he stuttered, “That’s my good luck charm. I carry that everywhere.” I seethed, “That’s the most outlandish photo ever taken of me. It’s practically pornographic. I don’t appreciate being objectified.” “Pornographic? Objectified?” stammered Rory, clearly confused. Holding the two pieces of the photo back together, he asked, “Don’t you see the halo?” “Halo? What halo?” I asked, grabbing the two halves of the photo. I fitted them back together and studied the image. The camera flash had produced a crown of light around my head that did indeed resemble a halo. “I see it now,” I admitted. A wave of remorse washed over me. Taking the tattered pieces from my hand, Rory said, “I told you. You were my angel.” “I am so not an angel,” I countered. Unsettling distress was evident on Rory’s face. He insisted, “You’ll always be my angel.” Filled with shame I apologized, “I’m so sorry I ripped up your photo. Please forgive me.” “The only way I can forgive you is if you go out with me tomorrow night.” “You don’t give up do you?” I blustered. Shrugging my shoulders, I said, “Sure, why not?” His face split into a wide grin. Piecing the photo back together, he added, ...
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