Vincenzo and Byroni weren’t quite ready for that floor and all those other friends just yet. Another nanny who was at the crib motioned over that th...y were awake and ok for visitors. I walked over to the crib and looked down at them. They stared back up, taking in the blue sky and clouds overhead. Their matching onesies had arrows pointing at each other, and the Italian phrase on both translated to “Don’t tell that oneI’m Mamma’s favorite.”“Hey, Little Boys.” I said to them. “How’s this whole. I’m a busty, curvy and big-bottomed chick, and I am thankful for the Islamic robes which hide my assets because I look good in them. I don’t look good in form-fitting western clothing, not with those curves of mine. My father, Kader Khalid is Somali, and my mother, Elisabeth Monroe, is white. They met in college, and fell in love, got married and had little old me. My parents came from two different worlds. My father was born and raised in the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and moved to Ontario,. Talking to him made him hotter and he began pumping uncontrollably into me. Anyone who has ever been a girl for someone can tell you that there is no better feeling than to have a man fully hard and in your pussy until you are in submission. He was squeezing my tits, had one hand on my outer thigh as he pumped full force into me missionary style. I was cumming with every thrust into me, and I never wanted it to end as we were kissing and fucking. He pulled it out and came towards my face but. "You must be Eddie; Lizzie has told me all about you."The bespectacled man in front of me was in his fifty's, balding and short, maybe five nine but over all was in decent looking shape."Hello, Dr. Cole nice to meet you." Please, call me Stephen."Elizabeth was annotating a medical record and paying us no heed."Ok, Stephen, is there something I can do for you?" Well, I was wondering how often you were going to be stealing my lunch date? We have been going to lunch together for years and it is.