It filled my nostrils. I sucked the nectar from her opening again, this time as I tried to go on Nicole grabbed my head and tried to keep me there. I ...ulled away as she cried out, “Eat me Don. Eat my pussy. You know we both want you to.”Although Nicole was completely correct, I resisted and pulled my head away. “No not yet, Nicole. I want you to need me to eat you, not just want me to eat you. Don’t touch your yummy sweet pussy either, or I will not eat you.”I continued on down her right thigh.. As a Haitian guy raised in the U.S. I thought I had seen it all. Then I came to Ottawa. A city which I am still trying to understand. Canadians are more complicated and less benign than us Americans give them credit for. I’ve run into a lot of subtle and not so subtle racism in the city of Ottawa. And not all of it came from ‘mainstream Canadians’ as I call Canadians of European descent. A lot of the local immigrant groups don’t get along with each other. And nowhere is that more evident than. I WAS NOT UNTOUCHED WHEN YOU CAME TO ME I WAS A BROKEN VESSEL WHICH YOU YOURSELF HEALED AND BROUGHT THE REFLECTION BACK TO MY EYES. YOU AWAKENED MY SOUL WITH THE VERY TOUCH OF YOUR FINGERS. YOUR HEARTBEAT IS ALL THAT SILENCES THE b**st WITHIN ME THAT OTHERS HAVE MADE ME THE STONE THAT MY HEART HAS BECOME THE VERY LIFE force THAT IS TO SUBSTAIN ME, YOU ALONE HAVE RENEWED THAT. I OWE YOU MY LIFE AND THAT OF MY c***dRENS SOLE PARENT YOU GAVE THEM THAT PART OF ME BACK. I LOVE YOU WITH A FEELING. I looked at her as she gave me a wink saying she would get the biscuits and meet me outside in 5 mins. Maria was carring a small bag full of groceries which I offered to carry for her. Her place was litterally around the corner and we were there in no time at all. Only getting to find our which our favourite biscuits were and why.We went straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Maria said that she like the way I always looked her in the eye at the checkout and only ever looked at her tits.