She moved like a long-tall-sally. I think she was a ninety pound super model trapped in a giant black body.Our first date went well. I was very encour...ged by our hot make-out session. Darshelle was my first African-American girl, and her plump purple lips were much more than a new experience. They were a wild, ecstatic turn-on. On our second date, she allowed me to fondle her ample bronze breasts. We were making out furiously on our third date. I seemed to making serious progress. I was. She relaxed back on her bed and closed her eyes, lost in the sensations as I started focusing on her nipples, kissing, licking, sucking and gently biting them as my hands again began roaming her body.For the next several minutes I alternated between making out with Chani and focusing on her tits. She was lost in lust and passion, unable to speak, communicating only through her moans of pleasure. For my part, I was lost in the satisfaction of giving her pleasure. Eventually, a subtle but. His pants began to rip up the legs. The waistband only held out for a few seconds longer.She felt the blood on her neck, knowing his fingernails sliced her skin, but they were so sharp that she didn’t realize she was cut until she felt the blood. Her face was pushed into his crotch, Pamela coming face to face with her fear. His erection was growing, like something she had never seen or heard of. It had to be huge; the throbbing flesh jerked and shuddered on her face as he rubbed her cheek. That evening it got to nine pm and I hadn’t seen Mick come online. In my head I was starting to call him master which made me a little confused but then that’s what he called himself in our emails now so it kind of made sense.When my mobile phone rang with an unknown number I was nervous as I never get cold callers. I answered and said hello and the voice at the other end said?Hello slave, it is your master, I hope you do not mind me calling but I really want to hear your voice??I do not mind.