Or if youre bored, I could just take you home. I shook my head quickly, now hating myself for making it seem like I wasnt having one of the best nigh...s in a while. I had no idea why I had rejected his kiss anyways. I wanted it. I knew I did, and according to my dreams, I wanted a lot more than just his lips against mine. I dont want to go home. I mean, not yet. Im having fun. What if we just, I dont know, played? He looked like he was trying not to laugh, but he raised an eyebrow. Played? . My name is Stefano Bergeron. A big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent living in the city of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I was born and raised in the city of Boston, Massachusetts, but moved to Ottawa for school because of the Recession. My father, Boston police sergeant James Bergeron thought I’d be safer in Canada than in America given the volatile social and political climate of the country at the time. Too many White radicals walking around hating on President Barack Obama. Too. Could I? No, I didn’t think so. But didn’t I want Laura to be happy? Yes, but. Then suddenly I thought about Anne. Anne was now pregnant. I was looking forward to being a grandfather. If I left Laura, I would not in be in Anne or the baby’s life. I didn’t want to lose Laura, to say nothing of losing the title of “dad” and “grandpa”. If letting Laura, from time-to-time, savor Dr. Taylor Washington’s big black dick meant keeping her, Anne, and a grandson in my life, it was a deal I was willing to. When he had finished, she had rope wrapped in a wide span at each extremity and two long tethers hanging from each. "Lie back on the bed and spread your arms and legs, my little sweet one," he said. She complied and he began tying the tethers to each corner, explaining that they were going to work on her control now. He explained that whatever he did to her while she was in this position, she was to try not to react in any way. He emphasized "try". He told her that he knew she wouldn't be able.