Kimberly Smith resides in a rural slum located in Alabama, Birmingham with her mother.
In 1963 news was spreading fleetly of the civil right riots happening downtown to put an end to "Whites-only" lunch counters and segregation.
To come in terms wit...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
I hadn't been at school the day Mikey showed up on my mothers doorstep asking for me.
I peered over her shoulder only to lock eyes with him.
Today he was wearing his second favorite denim jacket paired with his cropped capris and worn out converse.
Mikey wasn't super wealthy however only popular simply because of his look's.
His jaw was sculpted, and high cheek bones that could only be made by god himself.
Mikey Wilson reminded me of those models from one of those magazines mama read everyday with longing in her stare.
And he had asked for me.
• • •
Cinnamon eyes gazed back at me as we lay on his car searching for stars in the midnight sky.
We'd been out all day. I told mama I'd be home by curfew.
"Why weren't you at school today" Mikey said in his usual tone of voice.
Angry, but so angelically handsome.
I laced my fingers through his, "Sick"
ALBAMA BIRMINGHAM NEWS OF MAY 11 1963 - More than 1,000 protesters pave their way through Birmingham burning local businesses in protest of racial segregation - HUNDREDS ARRESTED AND TAKEN TO JAIL.
Mama had turned off the tv.
I felt a soft, breeze like touch that skimmed my left cheek.
Mikey's hand nestled my face softly, "You were crying" He said when I looked at him.
I held his hand in my own,"Make me feel better, please" I asked, draping my forearm over my eyes, blocking the starlight.
His brawny hand cupped my right breast, soothing me through my blouse, "It's alright I've got this, just feel" He reassured, his eyes twinkling.
Mikey's head traveled to my chest, edging his hand inside.
His teeth grazed my nipple, as his sinewy arms enveloped my body pulling me ever so close to his chest.
A rush of gasoline, and cigarettes hit my nostrils.
My hands tangling themselves in his silky, disastrous hair, forcing his head down, down, down.
He then purred against my slick heat as if in a trance, lips glistening with my essence "Your amazing"
I sighed as I gave my body to Mikey Wilson last night, all my problems melting away with every delicate stroke that was created by his enchanting tongue.
I lost myself to pleasure under the night airglow.
