"I read her the statement," she told him. "But she wanted you to call her back. She asked specifically for you. I've had two calls and two e-mails thi... morning from other outlets simply looking for a comment. This one asked to talk to you. I thought you should know."Adam glanced at the note. It was from the writer credited with the story in the 'Chronicle' that morning. With a frown, he picked up the phone to call the number. He was surprised when it was answered on the first ring. It wasn't a. I made her talk somehow and asked if she liked it. She kept quiet at first but as I kept asking and tapped on her cheeks to open her eyes. She finally opened up and spoke.Sowjanya aunty: I know this is wrong but somehow I enjoyed it. It’s been years that I had an orgasm like this. I don’t know what to say, you are my nephew and I am doing like this.Me: Forget all that, do what makes you happy. It’s ok to do this. Many women do it with other than their husbands. I promise that it will be a. She snuggled in with a smile. She saw her soft drink. "How many of these did you get?" Five or six cases." I guess you want me to stay to drink them up." She chuckled."I plan to keep a never-ending supply. You're stuck." I like sticking to you." She grinned and I groaned with a smile.We drank our soft drinks and talked about her shift. She said that it was very quiet for a Saturday. I suggested that there were a lot of people watching football and waiting for New Year's Eve. She shrugged. We. . . some stuff about race or it would defeat the purpose, right? That was part of the fantasy, the hot suburban wife getting nailed by the ghetto thug. It wasn’t hot unless they were playing up the differences, exploiting the stereotypes. About the only thing she could contribute to the fantasy was her constant chants of, “Fuck me with your big black cock. Fuck this white pussy. Pump your black seed in my fertile white cunt. Harder, harder, treat my like a filthy slut for black.