“Laurie,” said Georgetta. “You haven’t told me something important.”“Um,” said Laurie. “What?”“The race of the man. His skin color... What was the race of the man who did this to you?”Laurie flushed. “I don’t—I mean—I don’t know what difference that makes . . . .?”Georgetta smiled understandingly. “Laurie. It’s okay. I’m black. You’re white. It’s okay that you’re white, and it’s okay that I’m black. But these things matter. The race of the man matters, because it was part of the experience of. I still remember my first masturbating experience. It was a holiday for our school and that left me alone at home so I was free to read those magazines as I was going through one I read about a man shaking his dick with his hand and explaining how much pleasure he had. An idea struck my mind, why not I myself try it. I took out my lund and started thinking about my sexy aunty and moving my hand on my dick uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh I still remember how I was feeling, what a new type of pleasure it was. More

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