Marcus is rich, he owns several apartment buildings, he drives a really expensive car, he eats at really expensive restaurants, he wears lots of reall... expensive jewelry and has pretty much travelled around the world. Marcus has never hit on Anna which is why their friends, they have known each other for years and he's like an uncle to Brent, Anna calls Marcus and says she really needs to talk to him so he tells her to come to his place. Anna shows up at Marcus's place and after catching up. She was thrashing about under me groaning, gasping and yelling. After about a half hour, I suddenly had a thought. I remembered what she had described while sitting at the kitchen table. She had talked about my cock fucking Bob’s ass. I pulled out of her pussy and turned her over on her knees. I pulled her back to the edge of the bed so I could stand behind her. I retrieved the bottle of lube that had been left on the nightstand last night. I coated my cock and put a generous amount on her. .but, that's so different ...." velma pleaded. She had indeed given past boyfriends or dates a quick wank as not to allow them into her knickers. "Use the bar of soap in your hand and scrub my nigga cock slag!" ordered Asif. Breathing hard, Velma closed her eyes tightly shut, telling herself she was merely with an ex boyfriend, but as she tried to picture one the thoughts kept going back to the very young black boy ordering her about in the shower. She lathered her hands with the bar of soap. “Poor woman.” “Poor baby.” “Never should have been left.” “Wait until her husband hears.” “Burial.” “Baby.” “Baby boy.” “Kyle.”Death in 1873 was common. Death in childbirth was not uncommon. Life was hard, even in the better strata of society. People mourned and moved on. I moved. With my baby. They didn’t know. Wouldn’t know for weeks that his father was not returning. Poor Katie took care of little Kyle as she tried to tend the store and get ready for her own impending delivery. I tried to.