Maybe, he’s right and I’ll end up wishing I had never unearthed the history of the family I could have had instead of the one I got. When I asked...him about my birth name. He became damn cryptic. Instead of giving me an answer, he told me I could come to my own conclusions about that as well. I guess it really doesn’t matter what name my biological parents gave me. Maybe, it’s something hideous like Bertha and he’s too much a professional to embarrass me. Maybe, he’s afraid if I learned my true. I mean... you're white," she blurted out. "Just watch baby," Harris laughed, "lots of black girls like having white cock. Come on," he chided, pulling her towards the office by her hand, "you'll like them, honey. I know you will. Just like you liked me touching you, talking to you.." Chelle didn't protest that, she had liked Harris' touch and talk, so she obediently followed behind him. Harris sat at his computer desk, pulling Chelle down to his lap. She felt his hardened (painfully hardened). Her insurance would only allow for a one-month prescription at a time, so she had been forced to fall back on over-the-counter sleep aids for the past two months so she could hoard her small supply of the triazolam. She had no idea how many pills this would take, but she figured that her hard-saved 60-day supply should be more than sufficient.Setting the pills in the ceramic dish beside the bed, Connie stumbled sleepily to the kitchen to fill her water glass and the water pitcher she kept by. Seeing no one, he squeezed her hand and smiled as she met his gaze. With one last glance around, they left the main path, heading down a narrow trail. He held branches aside for her as their pace quickened. With a few more steps, they entered a clearing. Only a few yards across with a giant log lying across the middle, this small bit of solitude was their entire world. They paused, taking a moment to revel in the beauty of the space mother nature had provided them. Without a word, they turned.