Vincent walked out of the men’s locker room as I was going in the door.

“Good job, Juicy,” he told me. “You felt good out there.”

I corrected him. “You mean I looked good out there.”

“No, Juicy. I meant just what I said. You felt good. Your body always feels good to me.”

I didn’t know what to say. But I knew what the look on Vincent’s face meant. I had been seeing it in men’s eyes from the time I was twelve. Back then it used to make me feel nasty. Grandmother told me I didn’t have no control over how I was shaped. She didn’t know where I got all my titties, but said hips and ass ran on her side of the family. At twelve a stare like that from a man could make me run and hide in shame. At nineteen it made me feel hot.

“Are you going home?” Vincent wanted to know.

“Yeah, I have to take the train because my ride left.”

“Oh!” He looked at me with those eyes of his. “That was your father sitting out there, right? I saw him watching you. He looks like one of those back-in-the-day brothers. Sharp dresser for an old head. He didn’t wait for you?”

I was so embarrassed. “Yeah, that was him. He had to leave. He had to check on his business.”

“Then can I walk you to the train?”

“Okay, let me change my clothes first.”

I walked with Vincent to the station. I told him I had lost my wallet and he gave me his MetroCard. Although we had danced together I still felt shy with him. It also felt nice to be with a man my own age who was interested in the same things as me. We got to the train station far too quickly, and when Vincent said good-bye he kissed me on my cheek with soft lips.

I didn’t know how to act. I ran down the stairs and jumped on the first train that came. Good thing it was the local instead of the express because that gave me enough time to cross my legs and have three silent orgasms before I reached my stop. All I had to do was think about how Vincent’s hands felt on my body and the touch of his lips on my cheek.