The Memory of Leila
I could never confront myself with my sexuality; I was always debating if I was straight or not. My parents would kill me if I so much as looked at a girl the wrong way, but males never felt right. I finally had the chance to figure things out when I met Leila. I was 21 and working as a bartender. The men there would always yell at me, telling me to take off my shirt or to stand up on the bar. I would always refuse, but that didn't stop some unlawful squeezing of my rump. I hated it. It was a...
Lesbian