For Authentication Purposes by Amber L. Johnson Page A

to lean against the countertop for balance.
    His hands as they washed my back. Down my legs. Higher over my calves and thighs before he leaned over me and let his fingers slip between my legs and rub until I was shaking and pressing myself to the shower wall for support.
    Fingers, soft and firm, moving gently up and around between my cheeks to stroke. All the while he whispered in my ear all the depraved things he wanted to do to me. Feeling his cock growing hard against my stomach—less than thirty minutes after he’d come on my back.
    I got to touch it. He showed me how he liked to be handled. I watched with fascination as his fist guided mine up and down. We pumped together, creating a rhythm until he was grunting and swearing and I was dodging his second load as it landed between my breasts that time.
    “Dawn?”
    Frank’s voice startled me, and I took a deep breath, letting it out and sighing as I realized how damp my panties were all of a sudden. Just from thoughts of Warner alone.
    “Dawn!”
    “I’m coming,” I yelled back, snickering a little at the innuendo.
    Wardo was turning me into a perv.
    “Yeah, Frank. I’m right here.” I was winded as I turned the corner into his bedroom.
    He appraised me with suspicion. “Who is he?”
    “Who is who ?”
    His eyes narrowed. “The guy that has you singing god-awful hippie music from the seventies in my house.”
    “It’s not from the sixties?” I asked and folded my arms in challenge.
    “I bought the 45 in 1972. Of course I know what year that damn song came out.” He coughed out a laugh and returned to giving me the stink eye. “What’s his name?”
    Shrugging, I turned a little and scuffed my toe against the carpet in his room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “You’re almost glowing, and that can only mean one thing for a girl your age.”
    I batted my lashes, being playful. “I got my menses and I’m finally a woman?”
    He scowled. “Go ahead and try to deny it, but I know. I know when a woman has gotten hers.”
    “Frank, come on. I don’t think we should have this discussion—”
    He cut me off. “Pish! Lynda had that look on her face after our second date. Pink cheeks and walking all funny.” His smile was wicked. “Damn, she was flexible.”
    “Okay, that’s enough.” I waved my hands for him to stop. “I need to change your bedpan, and I don’t want you going into cardiac arrest from getting your first chubby in ten years while I’m doing it. The cleanup would be awful.”
    I walked to the side of the bed and made a move to lift his blanket when his frail hand came down on my own. Glancing from the thin, pale skin of his knuckles, coated with liver spots, back to his face, I tilted my head in question. His eyes searched mine and the smile faded from his lips.
    “Just make sure he treats you right, Dawn.”
    I gave him a reassuring smile and nodded, patting his hand a couple of times. “I will, Frank.” Because everything Warner was doing with me already felt right.  
    The thought confused me more than anything else.
     
    Blair ran into the house almost an hour late, apologizing all over herself for it.
    “It’s fine, Blair. It’s just that I have a class, you know? If I’m late too many times I’m going to get into trouble, and I need to stay in school. So please just remember that if you decide to stop off at the bookstore on the way home again.” I motioned to the bag in her hand as I stepped by her.
    Word was that there was a huge rush on a preorder of a book that was deemed shocking and controversial. The rumor was that the book was so explicit that there was a call to ban it. But distribution had been pushed through, and stores everywhere were getting limited amounts of copies. The fuss was over the fact that the novel was based on true events surrounding a college professor and a student engaging in a torrid affair for a couple of years. The big shocker was that the professor was a woman. And