Me: I take ur tits and switch between succking them and your mouth. Me: Hey what r u doing rite now? Her: Fingering myself. Me: Im whacking off so har... right now. Her: I wanna suck ur big dick. and let u finger me so hard i cry I then asked a couple questions and we talked then she said: Her: I cant my parents are home. can we continue talking dirty? im so horny. Me: Same ok Her: you start again Me: I start fingering u so gard and sucking your clit at the same time Me: oh and tell me when u cum. If he was to play a sport such as tennis he wouldn’t wear it on the hand that held the racquet unless he was left handed, but he wore his watch on his left wrist and lefties usually wear theirs on their right wrist. And if you look closely at the bone that ran from his left wrist to his index finger you will see that there are some lumps that suggests that at some time he wielded a hammer with more enthusiasm than skill. Now while there is a certain amount of conjecture in all of this, I am. But as days went on, I knew I was falling for him. What a perfect boyfriend I knew he’d be. He would never hurt me and we could talk honestly to each other. Not to mention he was unbelievably cute. From his shaggy blonde surfer hair to his tan muscular build. I often fantasized about us being together. I knew he felt the same way, but he always tried to hide it. I could tell the way he looked at me when I asked him if a certain pair of pants made my butt look big, or when me and him wrestled. Let them stare. I am the new breed of Black man. I don’t play basketball, I don’t rap and I don’t have a record. I can outperform you in the classroom, the boardroom AND the bedroom. Worst of all, you know it. That’s why you fear me. I go to class, and the professor, this bearded white guy with beady little eyes, ignores me when I raise my hand, for I’m the guy with the answers while the rest of the class is stumped. So I shout my answer, and the short, blue-eyed blonde chick sitting next to me.