But, she said that if we did get married, that she wanted a black baby; and that whoever she did marry would have to accept that; and I immediately to...d her that I wouldn't object to that at all! She wasn't convinced I was truly serious at first, but we kept dating, and the more saw each other, the more in love with her I fell, and after about a year, we decided to get married (with the proviso that I would not object to her having an African-fathered c***d, of course)!Neither of our parents. Peeling her jeans down to the floor, she steppedlightly out of them, brushing her hair back from herface. Her snowy white panties shimmered with a satinyradiance as she walked barefoot across to the clothingrack. Gleaming like quicksilver, they seemed to havebeen airbrushed onto her body, filming her hips like asecond skin. Her fingers played with the elegant French lace trimencircling the waistband; touching that sheer strip offloral gossamer made her ache with longing. She wantedto be out on. Suddenly Ron grabbed my wrists and pushed my hands above my head. Forceful and strong for a dirty old man; just what I wanted. But then I felt them, the cold hard handcuffs. How had I not noticed them already attached to the bed head? I felt a rising sense of panic. Yes, handcuffs in videos had turned me on and I had shared that with Ron, but was this really safe?He continued to devour my tits as my hands were cuffed together above my head. The feeling of fear at being tied up in the home of a. This was really on my mind for a while after that. I didn’t know if she was only interested in Matt’s, or if he makes her feel better, or she simply wasn’t in the mood. But it bothered me for some reason.After a few more days and a text from Matt, the weekend was here. I was ready to go to Matt’s place again. I asked Alyssa if she wanted me to pick her up on the way, but she said she wanted to drive separate so she could leave if I drink too much and I could leave if she drinks too much. Sorta.