Mike left the shop, the ring in hand,And through the night he sat and plannedThen slept awhile to kill the waitBefore the most important date.So soon ...he hour did ariveWhen Mike stepped out, his hopes aliveTo change his date by magic artInstead of trusting to his heart.The lass he met was known as Kate,And this was only their first date -Arranged by friends who thought that theyWould get on, in a sort of way.Yet Mike would only trust the ringAnd as they met he used the thing,So Kate was changed. I won’t lie, I’d wanted sex from the first time we kissed. Every chance I had, I’d be masturbating, naked and squirting over and over as I moaned his name. I thought I was giving him all the right signals. I’d stopped wearing a bra or undies, made sure I wore short skirts or dresses and tops that would give him easy access to my body. Our snogging sessions were always intense. Paul needed little encouragement to slip his hands under my top, fondling my breasts and teasing my nipples. He would. It's not so hard. I enjoy breast feeding him and I enjoy cunt feeding you." My, my we're a little vulgar, aren't we?" You brought up the subject," she shrugged, pulling the baby off her breast and started to burp him." Yeah, well I get so frustrated at times when you aren't there when I wake up in the morning. I miss your smell, your warm body, all that red hair all over the bed..." Not to mention the hair between my legs," she giggled. "You know next summer I think you, me and Junior out to. Not all of them. But a significant percentage which should not be ignored. Why is that? The African-American woman seems genetically designed to tear down the African-American man. And vice versa. Haitian men and Haitian women don’t always get along but we unite for the sake of survival. We know that unity means strength. Our national motto is that unity creates strength. Together we are strong. Sometimes, I wonder why Haitians are so different from African-Americans in mentality. We don’t look.