We texted each other for 2 days via mail .She told that one fine day we can meet and then we can introduce our self and then we can have fun. Next day...she texted me that we are going to meet at big bazar, we met each other.We had great time. She chit chatted for 2 hours. Their parents had fixed the match. She told that her hubby had a business, beginning of marriage life was beautiful having romance while sitting standing while chit chatting and had a great sex daily are alternate days but. All I could think about was a black guy putting his hands all over my mom. Around 11pm I heard something outside the door. I jumped up and went to the door. I looked out the peep hole to see my mom and Cameron embraced, kissing and talking. I sat back down on the couch feeling disqusted as the door opened and my mom saying good night to Cameron. My mom asked how I was , I replied I was fine and I was going to bed. She said that was a good idea and headed to bed herself.The next day we went. They flooded out of her just like the juices from her vagina. They spilled out in a draining way that on one hand filled the air with her rapture and on the other with her desperation of finally getting her release. She cried out with relief and with pleasure. It was a passionate cry of desire and of satisfaction. It was a cry that caused rear tears yet was a cry of surrender. It was a cry that finally started to muffle itself in intensity until it left her a quivering mass of nerve ending. It. ‘That might be construed as assisting in your suicide. You do seem a bit depressed but I’m not an expert.’ ‘But why would he have killed himself?’ asked Fred. I looked at him as if he had asked the dumbest question I had ever heard and wondered if he really wanted an answer and when it seemed that he did I replied, ‘Well I can only guess, but honestly why wouldn’t he? I mean look out the window and what do you see? Pea soup smog in Chicago in the summer. An environment that’s completely gone to.