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From: Kylie.X.writes@gmail.com
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Subject: {ASSM} Eyes Wide Open by Kylie X (F/M, Romance, Black Couple, Cuckold Theme, Consensual FemDom, Foot Worship, Sperm Fetish)
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Date: Fri, 19 Oct 2007 11:10:02 -0400
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Eyes Wide Open
By Kylie X

Copyright 2007 by Kylie X be nice an' buy me ice. Intended for adults
only.
Story Codes: F/M, Romance, Black Couple, Cuckold Theme, Consensual
FemDom, Foot Worship, Sperm Fetish
Synopsis: A black 19 year old college coed finds herself emotionally
challenged by her new boyfriend. When Rodney reveals his submissive
nature, Kylie must decide whether she should be honest with him, or
exploit the man's trust for her own secret desires.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Eyes Wide Open
By Kylie X


"Mmmm..." I purred with pleasure, like a sleek black panther drowsing in
the sunset. "Just think Rodney, after were married we'll get to do
this all the time."

"Yeah, Kylie....fuck yeah..." His rich voice was soft and I smiled at the
sound of it.

"Shhh...Don't talk, Rodney...Keep licking..." I nodded happily as my big
black stud went back to his pleasure.

Big black stud, yeah right.

I had to stifle a giggle as I mentally corrected myself. Rodney had
seemed imposing at first, when my father had introduced us and
especially a few weeks later, when the man had asked me out on our
first date. Rodney was tall, over six feet and solid, if not exactly
muscular. He was trim and well proportioned, enough so that all of my
female friends took quick notice and expressed their envy. His face
was handsome enough, black with dark brown eyes and thick, soft lips.
He had a nose that was neither too broad, nor too flat, thank
goodness. I don't know why, but I have a thing for noses and most
black people have ugly noses, I think.

Yes, Rodney did give the appearance of a big black stud, and he had
something of a reputation. The word does get around and my best
friend, Janisha, is a bit of a Nancy Drew when it comes to checking
out boyfriends, hers, mine, anyone's really. She likes that sort of
thing, and so I'd gotten the full report. How Rodney had some eight or
nine different girlfriends in college, all of them pretty, all of them
black, but they just hadn't worked out for some reason. Of course
Janisha, being Janisha, wasn't go to stop without a reason but try as
she might, all she could get out of Rodney's old flames was that the
man was sweet, gentle, and passionate.

That wasn't much of a reason and Janisha had been decidedly unhappy.

It didn't matter though, I knew the reason now. I'd learned it on our
third date, which is the one where most men, even the sweet ones, try
to get a little more than a kiss goodnight. I was a virgin, but I
wasn't entirely innocent and I'd been prepared to make out a little,
to let Rodney have a little skin, albeit briefly and only after we
were parked in front of my parents' house. I'd let him touch my
breasts if he really pushed for it, but Rodney had been much more
interested in touching me someplace else.

I'd dressed nice, being the 19 year old college coed I was, and some
people would call me a Black American Princess probably, but I didn't
care for that stereotype a whole lot. I came from middle class
suburbia and I think my attitude and morals reflected that. I'm
pretty, even beautiful now as a young woman finally, with my long
black hair straitened so that all the tight curly kinks are at the
ends. I like it that way and it suits my high cheeks and upturned
nose. I have a heart shaped face and lips which are full and sensual,
rather than thick. My pouting lips are only slightly ruined by the
smile that plays perpetually at the corners of my mouth, and mirrors
the playful humor of my bright brown eyes.

I wore an angora sweater for my date, soft and blonde; it hugged my
body nicely, showing off my 34C breasts and the narrow 22 inch waist
beneath them. A modest skirt, black and hemmed two inches above my
knees, was fitted around my 32 inch hips. It was just tight enough to
prove to the world that all black girls don't have huge booty. My ass
is tight and round and nicely firm and I can do magic tricks with it,
like making men walk into parked cars at the mall as I walk past. The
skirt showed off plenty of leg too, because I have some long ones,
smooth and brown like the rest of me. They're the secret of my five
foot nine inch height and I do like the view from there.

So, I have a nice body and I'm proud of it and I was offering it to
Rodney as we sat parked in his car after a pleasant evening out, or at
least some of my body. I'd already made it clear that I was a virgin
and determined to stay that way until I was married. It was an idea
planted by my parents at a young age, nurtured carefully and soon to
be harvested, I knew. I was nineteen and with my looks and personality
I wouldn't remain single for long and that was fine with me and my
parents. Our difference of opinion was something else, something as
plain and obvious as the difference between black and white.

But that's getting ahead of myself.

"Goddamn, you're fine as hell, girl..." Rodney breathed, stroking my
bare thigh with one hand while he cradled me with the other.

"Don't swear." I chided him with a giggle. "It isn't nice."

"Sorry baby." Rodney leaned his mouth close to mine for another kiss
and I closed my eyes, accepting his thick wet tongue into my mouth and
teasing it with my own.

His hand moved a little higher and I murmured my muffled protests,
putting my hand on his and moving it back to my knee where it
belonged. He wasn't going to force me, I knew that. Rodney was a good
boy, but like all boys he wanted to get his fingers into the cookie
jar. I could control him though, which had surprised me a little. The
few black guys I'd dated previously had been a little too aggressive,
a little eager, and when I'd shut them down it had made them unhappy.
I hadn't gone on a lot of second or third dates with those guys.

Rodney was different, he would test the waters and when I told him no,
he'd just smile and nod and go back to wherever we'd been before.
Either he really did respect me, or he just didn't have the courage to
assert himself, and I wasn't exactly sure which. Obviously I was
rooting for respect because as much as I'd gotten annoyed with those
other guys, I did respect a man who knew what he wanted and was
willing to push the envelope to get it. That didn't stop me from
dropping them like rocks though and I suddenly wondered if maybe
Rodney hadn't checked me out too. That was a little scary, but men
aren't like that and I put it out of my head.

We kissed a little more and it was getting warm inside that car, the
windows were fogging up and I could feel my body responding. It was
nice and I was waiting for Rodney to make a move for my tits when I
felt his hand moving on my leg again, but not up, not towards my skirt
and the forbidden treasure beneath; Rodney was moving down, massaging
my calf and lower, twisting his body and breaking our kiss as I looked
at him in the dim light.

"What are you doing?" I smiled and Rodney had found my left foot and
he was slipping off my shoe slowly.

"I just want to touch your feet." He said softly. "Okay?"

He sounded as though I might actually say no, which made him seem
guilty somehow. I've been accused at times of reading too much into a
person's tone of voice, or choice of words, but believe me when I say
I'm very good at deciphering such signals. It's where my woman's
intuition lives and my closest friends know it. Some of them refuse to
even speak with me on the phone if they're trying to keep a secret
from me, like a surprise party or whatever. Rodney was hiding
something and there was a tremor in his fingers to match the flutter
in his voice.

"You want to give me a foot massage?" I asked, thinking it was a
little odd perhaps, but there were certainly worse ways to end a date.

"Oh, God yes." Rodney licked his lips and I giggled, turning and
moving away so I could lean against the car door and present the man
with both of my feet in his lap.

"Okay, sure. I'd love a good massage." I grinned and watched the man
remove my other shoe, inspecting it for a second, even lifting it to
his nose and inhaling deeply before setting it carefully aside.

"No tickling." I warned him.

"What?" Rodney grinned and I realized he wasn't teasing me.

This, I quickly realized, was a man who loved feet. As pretty as my
face was, as perfect as my body seemed to most people, Rodney's
infatuation lay squarely across his thighs. My size six feet, all
brown on top, pinkish between the toes, and rather light along the
soles. He massaged them one at a time, using both hands to knead and
squeeze my foot, not tickling me at all, but making it feel
delightfully wicked. This was a sexual thing, there was no mistaking
it, and I could feel the bulge of Rodney's straining cock trapped in
his trousers. He was getting off on it and I was growing moist and my
nipples burned just watching him.

"Is that what you like best, Rodney?" I asked him, coaxing the man
gently to tell me the truth. "Do you love my feet?"

"I...I don't know why." He looked at me and I had a sense that this was
probably about the place so many of his previous relationships had
abruptly ended.

"Use your mouth." I suggested after a wonderful five minutes of
foreplay, because that's how it seemed.

"You mean it?" Rodney swallowed thickly and I smiled at him with such
gratitude I felt like I was ten feet tall suddenly.

It was the look in his eyes that affected me most. The sheer adulation
I witnessed there was unmistakable. I probably could have suggested
nearly anything and Rodney would have done it. He wanted to please me
and for whatever reason worshipping my feet was the key, the ritual
the man needed to perform in order to gain satisfaction sexually. I
didn't pretend to understand it and I could see how a girl might be a
little freaked out by it. It's one thing to have a man's respect and
admiration, but to have him literally groveling at your feet? It's
unexpected and not always what we're looking for.

"Tell me what you want." I told him, wondering how he'd respond. "Tell
me your fantasy, Rodney."

"My fantasy?" He looked at me, clearing his throat and Rodney seemed
so much smaller just then. "I just...I want to..."

"You can tell me, I don't mind." I promised him. "I want to
understand, okay?"

"I want to make love to you." He kissed my foot then, pressing my skin
to his face. "I want to make love to your feet, Kylie. You have the
most beautiful feet I've ever seen."

"Hmmm..." I nodded, but I was just buying time while I tried to sort
this out.

I liked what he was doing, it felt good, but I just didn't understand
what Rodney was getting out of it. I'd never had a man love my feet
before. I'm a quick study though and what I lacked in experience I
made up for with my outgoing personality, which often demonstrates
itself in strange ways of its own. In this instance, when Rodney
brought my left foot to his lips, kissing the soft arch of my foot
gently, I pressed my right foot against his swollen member, rubbing
his cock through his pants and making the man jerk with pleasure as
much as surprise.

"Take out your cock, let me see it." I told him and it wasn't a
request at all.

I was telling him to do it, commanding him, and just like that our
relative positions were established forever. Our relationship had just
taken a large step forward and there was no going back.

Rodney opened his fly with one hand, refusing to let go of my foot as
I moved it, brushing the tops of my toes lightly across his rough
cheeks. I was playing with the man's face, stroking him with my foot
and he turned his head this way and that, kissing and licking at me
while his hand cupped my heel gently. He freed his prick blindly and I
immediately pressed my right foot against it, feeling it thick and hot
the way a man should be.

I pulled my foot from his mouth, because it was getting late and a
little voice in my head was telling me it wouldn't do to spoil the
man. I didn't say a word and Rodney seemed almost incapable of speech
by then. I brought both of my feet to his cock, bending my knees and
catching it in the natural gap created as I pressed my feet together,
heel to heel and toe to toe. His cock was caught between the soft pale
arches and I began working the soles of my feet together, up and down
Rodney's velvet soft shaft.

It was slightly awkward and a minor strain on my thighs, that unusual
motion in the cramped space of Rodney's car, but I was able to do it
easily enough and Rodney just stared at me, at my feet as if
hypnotized. His cock was stiff and straight as iron, hot and thick and
not huge, but normal and average as most men are. I was jerking him
off with my feet, working the soft insteps up and down, sometimes
together, and sometimes separately. I was teasing him and giggling as
precum spilled out from his circumcised glans, running thin and watery
in the yellowish light of the streetlamps outside.

"Do you like this Rodney?" I breathed, because I was enjoying it very
much and my excitement was building.

"Yeah...Yes..." He nodded.

"You love my feet, don't you?" I smiled and he nodded emphatically,
pressing his palms against the seat so he could lift his body, pushing
up with his cock in an effort to fuck my feet.

"Are you my foot slave now?" I wondered, stopping all movement and
actually pulling my feet away from him slightly.

"Kylie...Yes, please, I'm your foot slave." He agreed and he was
reaching for my feet, needing them once more on his aching cock, but I
stopped him.

"Don't grab my feet." I warned him, sounding stern and Rodney's brown
eyes went wide with fear, that's the only word for it. "Never, ever
grab my feet, Rodney. I don't like it."

"Alright..."

"They're my feet, not yours." I told him. "This is my body, all of
it."

"I know, Kylie...I'm...I didn't mean to..."

"And don't lie to me either." I snorted. "When I want you to touch me
I'll tell you where and when and how, understand?"

"Yeah." He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, I..."

"I know, we're just learning." I lowered my voice and rewarded him
with a smile. "Go ahead; you can hold my feet now."

"I'm sorry, Kylie. Thank you." He gave me a look of such gratitude
that my heart lurched. Honestly, it was something I'd never seen in a
man's eyes before and it made me warm all over.

"Put my feet back on your cock, Rodney...Yeah..."

I reached between my thighs, under my skirt and rubbed my pussy
through my panties, not caring anymore what Rodney might or might not
see. He didn't care what I was doing between my legs anyway, he just
wanted my feet.

"Rub your cock with my feet...Uh-huh...Jerk yourself off, Rodney...I want to
see you cum on my feet..."

I spoke softly, telling the man exactly what I wanted him to do, what
I expected to see, and it was precisely what Rodney himself wanted.
For the first time in my life I found myself compatible with a man of
my own color, sort of. I had plans and ideas, even then, although I
hate to admit that. It's true though because Rodney was so vulnerable,
like a child really, and almost any woman would have understood
immediately how easy it would be to take him for her own. It's
instinctive and in our sex, it has nothing to do with who we are
personally. It's a woman thing.

"Keep jerking off...Fuck my feet, Rodney...Fuck yourself with my feet..." I
pulled my panty aside, unable to resist the need to rub my fiery clit.

"Kylie...Oh, please...I'm going to cum..."

Rodney was squirming, holding my small delicate feet in his big black
hands, sliding them around his penis, up and down and my skin
glistened with his precum. It was between my toes and covering the
soles of my feet. On my ankles and running down his dark shaft.

"Cum on my feet, Rodney..." I rubbed my clit harder, moving two fingers
around it in a tight quick circle, getting closer as I stared at the
man in front of me. "...Cum for me, darling...Show me how much you love
me, Rodney..."

"Kylie...I love you...Oh God..." Rodney arched his back, pressing my feet
hard against his cock as it jerked suddenly, sending a jet of creamy
semen arcing though the air to land on his stomach and chest, staining
his Lacoste polo shirt.

I was cumming then as well, my legs straining as Rodney held my ankles
tight, but I didn't mind. I was rocking my hips, rubbing my clit hard
with one hand while digging the fingers of my other hand into my
breasts. It was insane, jilling myself off like that in front of the
man, watching him get off on fucking my bare feet. It wasn't normal at
all, but somehow that made it even better. We'd just had sex, I
vaguely realized. I was still a virgin, he hadn't penetrated me or
anything, but what we'd done had been sex. There was little doubt of
that and as I came down from my orgasm I felt every emotion you can
think of.

I was self-conscious and a little embarrassed, even slightly confused
because this wasn't exactly what I'd planned on, and how we'd reached
this point wasn't absolutely clear. As I looked at Rodney, at his semi-
hard cock wet with his orgasm, and my own feet covered with his spend,
I felt a little anger, or resentment is a better word. I wasn't angry,
I just felt like he'd used me somehow, although clearly it had been my
decision. I'd allowed it to happen, but I did feel tricked and it was
bothering me because I knew I hadn't been.

"Clean it up." I told him, and that was how I was venting my emotions.
"With your mouth."

It was my revenge, possibly, or something...Sadistic? I didn't think I
had a sadistic bone in my body. The words were coming out of my mouth
however, unbidden and unplanned, but voiced through my lips and Rodney
looked at me for a long heartbeat.

"Lick that mess off my feet, right now." I told him.

I expected Rodney to laugh at me, or tell me I was crazy perhaps. But
maybe he'd been through this before with one of his previous
girlfriends and she'd dropped him then, took her beautiful cummy feet
and walked away from Rodney and his weird desires forever. Whatever
had happened previously, whatever the reason in his mind, Rodney
didn't refuse me.

He lifted my right foot carefully to his mouth and licked his cum from
my foot slowly. I watched that pinkish tongue extend from his black
mouth and gather the sticky mess slowly at first, but soon he became
almost eager and after several minutes I was surprised to see his
penis growing hard again, standing stiff as he sucked all five of my
sperm covered toes into his generous mouth.

"I guess you do love my feet, don't you?" I giggled. "Are you my cum
eating boyfriend now, Rodney?"

"I don't...know." Rodney looked unsure of himself, but the milky stain
on his lips and the hardness of his cock told both of us all we needed
to know. He'd enjoyed licking his orgasm from my feet.

"Yes you do." I smiled at him, pulling my feet away and leaning close
to him.

I reached for his face tenderly, stroking his skin and rubbing my
thumb over his lips, gathering what little remained of his cum and
pushing my thumb into his mouth like a small brown cock. He suckled it
for me, his eyes locked on mine as I worked my thumb in and out so
that there was no mistaking the symbolism of the act.

"We need to talk about this." I told him. "If we're going to keep
seeing each other."

"Do you want to?" Rodney asked and he cleared his throat, putting his
shoulders back, as if attempting to regain reassert his maleness, his
strength and size.

"Yeah." I smiled at him. "I do. I like you, Rodney."

"I love you." He said but I shushed him with a tiny shake of my head.

"That's sex talking." I laughed lightly and he frowned, casting his
eyes down briefly. "We don't know each other well enough for that."

"You're right." He agreed quietly, but it was obvious he didn't doubt
his feelings. "You won't tell anyone about...this. Will you, Kylie?"

"What?" I rebuked him with a look. "Of course not. It was nice and it
was ours, nobody else's business"

"Okay." Rodney smiled. "Can I call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "You can call me."

He kissed me on the lips and I even opened my mouth for a little of
his tongue, but I can't say it excited me. The idea of tasting his
sperm was slightly repulsive, but that had nothing to do with Rodney
specifically, it was just me. He deserved the kiss anyway and I was
happy enough to give it to him. It would restore his confidence, I
hoped, strengthen his trust in me and in what we'd shared. I very much
wanted his trust, you see. I'd need every bit of it that the man could
give me if I was going to realize the vague plan growing in my head.

If Rodney would love me that selflessly, with the adoration and
devotion I'd witnessed earlier, it would be the answer to my dreams.
Maybe. I puzzled over it as I lay soaking in the bathtub at my
parent's house. Dad had been waiting up for me, of course, and
doubtless he'd noticed Rodney's car parked outside for that long
while, but he held his comments and questions and I just smiled,
wishing him goodnight. Daddy liked Rodney a lot, both of my parents
did, and I already knew they thought he'd make me a fine husband.

But would he?

Our fourth date and I don't think I'd ever had four dates with one man
before, so this was virgin territory, so to speak. I'd dressed a
little different for it, a little sexier than I usually did, and
Rodney seemed to appreciate it, especially the white fishnet stockings
I wore. They had tiny diamond shaped holes and wide lace tops hugging
my thighs, hidden just above the hem of my black mini-skirt as I stood
there and becoming all too visible when I sat down in the passenger
seat of his car. They made my legs seem even longer than they really
are and it was outrageously sexy. I wore a tight fleece sweater above
the skirt, sans bra for a change, and my nipples, which are
perpetually hard anyway, protruded against the soft fabric like long
black bullets. It was a warm, itchy sensation that was going to drive
me crazy all night.

The real eye opener for Rodney though was my shoes. He took in my ripe
tits with a wide smile, and my hips and ass beneath the tight skirt,
and my impossibly long legs, he liked that look just fine. When he saw
my shoes though, the black leather slings with their open toes,
delicate ankle straps, and three inch stiletto heels, Rodney forgot to
breathe. His mouth fell open and he trembled with excitement and I
wondered how the man ever made it through a day with such an intense
fetish.

I felt only slightly underdressed as Rodney had shown up ready for a
real date, in a casual suit and tie. He did look nice that way, I had
to admit, and if I'd been the sort of girl who went for black guys,
Rodney would have really turned my head. As it was I merely
appreciated his appearance, more than I was attracted to it.

I teased him mercilessly through dinner. While we talked pointedly
about innocent things, safe topics like my university studies and
Rodney's new job as an accountant for my father's plumbing company, I
had my stocking feet in his lap under the table, wriggling my toes
against an erection that must have been excruciating for the man. He
said very little while I smiled and talked incessantly, aware of the
admiring looks and lusty stares of the other men around us as we sat
in the restaurant.

They were white men for the most part, sitting with their wives and
girlfriends and families, but glancing at me, wanting me, and it was
intensely exciting for me. This was not the Kylie anyone else knew,
this deliberate sexuality on display for the world to see. Beautiful
was one thing, but I was playing the sexual predator just sitting
there, and that was new. It made my heart pound and I was working hard
to live up to my appearance, sitting upright with my shoulders back,
head high and looking around occasionally to catch the eye of a man,
staring at him with a small smile until he'd turn away. It was a power
I'd never fully appreciated before and I was enjoying it.

Poor Rodney was enjoying it as well, eating slowly and shifting every
few minutes, sometimes dropping a hand to his lap as if he might touch
my feet, but I'd give him a small shake of my head, perhaps a soft
word...

"Don't." I warned him, feeling Rodney's fingers brush over my toes.

"Sorry." Rodney breathed, bring his hand back up, above the table and
I rewarded him with a hard push of my left foot against his hidden
cock.

"Did you see my father today?" I asked him innocently. "Did he ask
about us?"

"Your dad?" Rodney lifted with his hips, wanting more pressure and I
dug my toes between his thighs, spreading his legs so I could press my
foot against his balls.

"Yeah." I giggled. "Daddy. Did he ask about our date last night?"

"He...Yeah, I talked to him a little." Rodney blinked as I worked my
toes up and down, rubbing the base of his cock through his thin wool
trousers.

"What did he say?" I wondered, taking a small bite of my veal.

"He, uh..." Rodney licked his lips. "...He asked me if we talked about
marriage."

"Marriage?" I laughed at that and Rodney glanced around nervously as a
number of men took advantage of the excuse to look at me openly.

"Yeah." Rodney nodded and then smiled sheepishly.

"What did you say?" I prompted him.

"I told him that we...we're taking it slo-oh!" He leaned forward as I
pressed the ball of my foot hard against his penis.

"Slow, huh?" I nodded. "That's a good answer."

"Yeah, I thought so." Rodney nodded, making a little face as he
recovered. "I think he expects me to, um...propose soon."

"Daddy likes you a lot." I agreed.

"I noticed." Rodney took a sip of his wine. I was only nineteen, but
Rodney was twenty-three, and so he liked to try and impress me with
things like expensive wine with our dinner. I wasn't sure my dad would
approve of that, but I wasn't going to tell and I drank very little of
mine anyway.

"So...Are you?" I teased him and I was wondering if I couldn't make
Rodney cum just sitting there.

"Am I what?" Rodney smiled at me.

"Going to propose soon?" I giggled.

"I don't know." Rodney was lowering his hand again because he couldn't
help it. "It depends..."

"Depends on what?" I asked innocently and then wagged my finger. "Uh-
uh-uh, Rodney..."

"Yeah, okay...Whew." He laughed and brought his hand back where I could
see it.

"You were saying?"

"What, oh, well I'm not going to propose until I know that you..." He
paused and I waited with a smile. "...You know, uh, that you love me
too."

"Ahhhh..." I nodded. "...I think we still have a lot to learn about each
other before that happens, don't you?"

"Yeah." Rodney nodded, not wanting to believe that probably. He was in
love with me already, I knew, and it wasn't just infatuation with my
feet.

"I have to go back to the college." I told Rodney once we were in his
car, an old BMW 325i that he'd bought his senior year in college.

It was a black guy thing, in my opinion, like the bling Rodney was
wearing underneath his button down shirt and striped tie. I'd seen it
before, when we'd first met and he'd tried coming onto me like a
reformed gangsta from the hood. Maybe a lot of black girls were
impressed by that charade, but I wasn't and I'd let him know
immediately my opinion of pimp wanna-be's and black inner-city counter-
culture in general. I was doing him a favor too, believe me, my dad
had worked hard to get a nice white house in a nice white neighborhood
and black was good, my dad liked to say, but nobody likes a nigger.

Rodney had dropped the nigger act quick after that.

"Back to your dorm?" Rodney sighed. "I thought maybe you'd like to hit
a club or something."

"I can't." I shook my head as he started his car. "I have early
classes tomorrow. Friday we can go dancing if you want."

"You want to go out on Friday?" Rodney smiled at that and it was the
first time I'd actually suggested a date.

"Well, if you're going to be busy, I guess..." I teased him with a
theatrical sigh.

"No...Nooooo..." Rodney grinned at me. "I'm not busy, baby."

"So how many girlfriends have you had before?" I asked him, thinking
maybe the fourth date was a good time to get personal, but I was
probably being rude.

"Girlfriends?" Rodney glanced at me. "A few, I dunno. I don't keep
score."

"No notches on your belt?" I giggled.

"No, nothing like that. I went on a lot of dates in college." He
shrugged. "Nothing was ever serious."

"Okay." I shrugged. "No kids?"

"What?" He laughed. "Damn, girl, you jump on a man with both feet,
don't you?"

"Well, I just don't like surprises and nowadays...You know..."

"Yeah, I mean no." Rodney said seriously. "I don't have any kids."

"Good." I nodded. "Me neither."

"Do you want kids?" He asked me.

"Yeah, someday." I smiled. "Not now. I have to finish school but in a
few years, maybe, if I find the right guy."

"You haven't found the right man?" Rodney looked at me for a second as
he drove, making it obvious he thought I had.

"Maybe." I gave him a speculative look. "I haven't decided yet."

"If you do, will you tell me?" He wondered and I giggled.

"You could be the first to know." I shrugged.

"Could be?"

"Well, you could be the last to know, too." I laughed at his little
scowl.

It wasn't far to the university since we were already downtown and
Rodney pulled up in front of my dorm.

"You can park over there, if you want." I nodded toward the parking
lot.

"Uhhh..." Rodney smiled, trying to figure out what I was suggesting.

"I mean if you want to come up to my room for a little bit." I offered
and my heart was stuttering because this was going to be a little
strange if he said yes.

"Well sure, yeah." He nodded, just like he had to. No man was going to
turn that down and I hoped I knew what I was doing.

"Here we go..." I said softly, unlocking my door and reaching for the
light switch. It was the moment of truth and probably I should have
waited a few more dates, but I was in a bit of a rush, the way I too
often am.

"Alright..." Rodney cleared his throat, walking in and looking around,
naturally.

It was a typical single room, not very large or anything, but
comfortable enough. I had my bed against on wall, a desk and bookcase,
both piled high with books and notepads and papers. My laptop was
sitting there and near my bed I had a little nightstand. I had a mini-
fridge with a small aquarium sitting on top of it, my three angelfish
swimming around lazily. Some clothes scattered around, but I was
usually kind of neat anyway and I had a dresser and closet and I knew
how to use them. I turned on my desk lamp and then the lamp on my
nightstand, giving the room a much more pleasant and warm glow than
the fluorescent bulb on the ceiling offered and I turned that off.

What was catching Rodney's eye, and what I was feeling nervous about,
were my choice of decorations. It was my dorm room and in it I was
safe and private and my parents weren't ever going to see it, and so
I'd put up some posters. Pictures of white men mostly, well built and
beautiful and posing as lifeguards in their tight red Speedos, or as
half-dressed policemen and firemen, that sort of thing. I had a few
centerfolds too, real ones with gorgeous men posed nude, showing off
their hard bodies and long thick white cocks. I had those near my desk
and I'd spent a lot of time smiling at those guys.

"Oops." I giggled and pretended like I was embarrassed as Rodney took
in my small collection of softcore porn, which wasn't hard to do since
I was more than a little self-conscious right then.

"Nice room." Rodney said slowly and whatever he might have been
thinking about his beautiful black girlfriend having a bunch of
pictures of white guys in her bedroom, Rodney didn't say anything.

"Thanks." I smiled. "It's my home away from home. You want something
to drink?" I looked at my fridge. "I have some diet Pepsi I think,
some water..."

"No, uh-uh." Rodney was looking at me now, taking in my legs and
breasts, but his eyes always returning to my feet.

"What do you want to do?" I asked him softly, licking my lips as I
stood there, posing for the man.

"Shit, Kylie..." He breathed, shaking his head like he wanted to do
everything.

I giggled, feeling myself trembling inside because I'd never had a guy
alone in my bedroom before, which was what my dorm was, after all. I
sat on my bed, finding my Ipod on the nightstand and it was connected
to some small speakers on the floor. I thumbed it, crossing my legs
for Rodney, letting him see the tops of those white stockings and some
smooth brown thigh above the lace. Trevor Jones started playing
softly, the 'Last of the Mohicans' soundtrack, which is my favorite
movie of all time and the music is so beautiful. So romantic.

"Why don't you sit down?" I stared at Rodney, standing in the middle
of my room.

He looked at my desk chair and started to pull it out, but I stopped
him.

"No, sit down here, Rodney." I pointed at the floor near my feet.

"You want me to sit there?" Rodney licked his thick black lips and I
nodded slowly.

"That's where you belong, isn't it?" I tilted my head inquisitively.
"At my feet?"

"Yeah." He looked embarrassed and I wished I knew what I was doing.

"So?" I laughed lightly. "Sit down, I want you to show me how much you
like me."

"I love you, Kylie." Rodney said softly as he moved, kneeling in front
of my bed and my left leg was over my right, my black leather shoe off
the floor in front of his face. I moved my foot up and down, teasing
him with it.

"That's what you keep saying." I said. "But how do I know you mean
it?"

"Kylie, please." Rodney looked up, into my face. "I've never known
anyone like you and last night...Right now..."

"You like it, don't you?" I agreed, drawing a deep breath. "You like
it when I tease you, don't you?"

"Yes." Rodney nodded and I moved my foot left and right for him, as if
I was trying to hypnotize him.

"Why do you like my feet so much?" I asked him reasonably. "Is that
all you like?"

"I don't know." He shrugged helplessly, trying to keep his eyes on
mine, but my foot kept stealing his attention. "I like women who
are..."

He sighed, searching for the words and perhaps frightened that I'd
laugh at him, but I had no intention of hurting the man's feelings.

"Do you like strong woman, Rodney?" I asked him. "Do you want a woman
who can put you on your knees, the way you are now? Who tells you what
she wants?"

"Yeah...yes, that's what I like." He swallowed thickly. "I love you
because you're so strong."

"What else?"

"You're so beautiful..." He was looking in my eyes now, desperate to
share the truth of his confession. "...I don't deserve you. No man does
and you...You're better than everyone else."

"Am I?" I wondered and it was hard not to laugh, but only because his
words thrilled me. They were so far beyond my own opinion of myself,
the way I really was. I was a confused girl, little more than that,
lost in my own secret desires and hardly strong at all.

"You're like a...Goddess." Rodney told me and he almost winced when he
said that, as if I'd strike him for being so ridiculous in his praise.

"Am I your Goddess, Rodney?" I breathed, hardly able to contain the
nervous energy rushing through my blood.

"Yes." He whispered, lowering his eyes then, past my foot and all the
way to the floor.

"Always? Am I your Goddess everywhere, Rodney? All the time?" I asked
him. "Or only like this, when we're alone?"

"Always, Kylie." He promised. "You're my Goddess everywhere."

"You don't care what people might think?" I sounded doubtful. "If I
told my friends about us, about how you worship me, you wouldn't
care?"

"I don't know." Rodney answered honestly and I appreciated that. "All
I know is I need you. I want to make you happy, Kylie. That's more
important to me than anything else."

I didn't know what I was doing and some of the things we were saying
seemed so far out there that I had a hard time believing them. People
didn't talk like this, did they? Nobody could be so selfless in their
love as Rodney was suggesting. I didn't think I could be, but I didn't
know. I'd never loved anyone enough to find out. I almost envied
Rodney; if I could step out of our relationship and view it as an
outsider, I would have been jealous of his love. It was so complete,
it seemed to me, and brutally honest. He'd opened himself and the
slightest word from my lips could wound the man deeply and I wondered
if he'd been hurt that way before.

I hoped not, I really did. Rodney didn't deserve to be punished for
what he felt, nor especially for expressing it. That took real
courage, more than I had, and his attentions made me feel like a
fraud. I wasn't worthy of them, I knew, and I was using him, which
filled me with a sudden sense of guilt, pushing my pleasure aside
momentarily. I couldn't let this go further, not without telling him
the truth about me. If it hurt him, wouldn't it be better now, at the
beginning, rather than later? I hoped so and I prayed I knew what I
was doing because I did feel the stirrings of love, not the sort I
might have for a husband, or the father of my children, but a love
that was beyond mere friendship. Something undefined and in between
and I had no idea how to deal with it.

"Rodney...Look at me. Please." I said gently, waiting until he lifted
his deep brown eyes once more. "I have to tell you something, okay?
And I don't want to hurt you or make you mad or anything, I just..." I
sighed. "...I have to tell you."

"What is it, Kylie?" He set his face against whatever fear or anxiety
he felt, and I found myself admiring his strength.

I was frightened, unbelievably so, but I drew strength from Rodney,
believe it or not. He was my example, my inspiration if you will, and
I wanted to emulate his honesty and perhaps, by telling him my
secrets, I'd somehow be worthy of his love. But that seemed so remote
as I composed my thoughts. He wouldn't understand, he couldn't. He'd
see this as a betrayal, I was sure, and I hesitated before determining
that I had no choice. I had to do it and if I spent the rest of the
night crying because of it, I would at least know that I'd done the
right thing.

"I like white guys...White men." I said hesitantly. "I love them. I...I
want to be with them, with one of them, someday. I don't want to marry
a black guy. I don't want to have black children, Rodney. I want white
babies and a white husband and..."

I ran out of words with my eyes closed, I didn't want to see the hurt
I was causing him.

"Why?" Rodney asked and I had no answer.

"I don't know." I shrugged, opening my eyes finally, searching his
face for understanding. "I just do and nobody knows. I don't have a
white boyfriend or anything. I just...I dream of it, Rodney. Finding the
man I'll love. I dream of him and he's always white."

"Do you want me to leave?" Rodney said after a minute of silence and I
realized my eyes were wet.

"I don't..." I blinked and wiped at my cheeks. "...No. I don't."

"What do you want from me?" Rodney looked sad, but he wasn't angry.

"Rodney, I don't know." I shook my head. "I like you a lot. Maybe...
Maybe I love you, I'm not sure, but..."

"But you don't want to marry me." Rodney sighed, looking down. "You
don't want to have my children."

"I don't want your children, no." I swallowed hard. "And if we
married..." I cleared my throat because my voice was just a whisper.
This was my plan, my grand scheme. "...I wouldn't be faithful to you."

"I see." Rodney's shoulders had fallen, his body seeming smaller as he
knelt on the floor.

"I'd be a good wife, I'd love you. I'd be your friend and lover..." I
spoke quietly. "...I'd have other men as well though, white men who
could make me happy."

"I could make you happy, Kylie." Rodney sat up, staring hard into my
eyes and he meant it. "You don't know. I can make you happy."

"Rodney..." I shook my head because I did know. "...You would make me
happy by letting me have white lovers."

He wasn't going to accept that and what man could? All of his earlier
words, they'd been spoken sincerely, but in haste, before all the
facts were known. Rodney had to be feeling that betrayal, I thought.
He had to be angry and rightly so. I was telling him that he was less
important to me than some unseen and as yet unknown white man. It was
a slap in the face and Rodney wasn't going to take it, his love for me
could never overcome his pride.

"I could do that." Rodney said so softly I thought I imagined it.

"What?" I stared at him and my heart was stopped, my lungs refusing to
work as I sat still as stone. The moment was frozen in time.

"I can do that." Rodney said louder. "I want you to be happy. That's
what I told you before and I meant it. I wasn't lying."

"Rodney." I laughed, shaking my head. "Didn't you hear me? If we get
married I'll cheat on you. I'll have someone else's child, a white
baby and everyone will know. We won't be able to hide it and I won't
want to."

"I don't care about that." Rodney said and he was strong again,
impossibly strong.

He rose straight above his knees and spreading his arms so that he
could straddle my body, Rodney's hands on my bed and leaning forward.
He was tall enough that we were staring level into each other's eyes
as I sat there. I could feel his breath on my face, smell his cologne
and my knee was pressed against his hard stomach, my breasts brushing
against his chest. Rodney was trapping me, physically and emotionally,
leaving me with no escape because he did love me altogether too much.
He would sacrifice everything a man should have, just to be with me

"You don't care if I have a white baby?" I asked, making myself very
clear. "If it has blonde hair...Blue eyes like his father? You'll help
me raise that child? You'll love it as your own?"

"I'll love it as a part of you, Kylie." Rodney said and his eyes were
fierce and I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. "You're my Goddess,
I told you that, and your happiness is mine."

"I don't want to hurt you, Rodney." I told him.

"I know." He smiled. "If you'll love me, if you'll be my wife and let
me be your husband, Kylie...You won't hurt me. I promise."

"What if I do though?" I wanted to believe him so badly. "What if you
can't be happy? I don't want you to be sad, Rodney. I swear, I don't."

We were quiet for a minute, maybe longer and I couldn't think of a
promise he could make, or a vow I could offer him that would assure of
us of our happiness together. The future was impossible to see and
people change, they don't stop growing just because they reach a
certain age, or get married. We keep growing and what if it didn't
work? Rodney might love me now, but how would he feel knowing his wife
was making love to another man, a white man in their marital bed? How
would he feel seeing a baby not his own nursing at my breasts, a light
skinned baby, half white and obviously so? What could we possibly say
to each other in anticipation of that?

"That's love, right?" Rodney finally said.

"What?" I bit my bottom lip.

"Faith." He shrugged. "We just have to have faith; this isn't all that
different from anyone else, is it?"

"Pretty different." I giggled. "I think."

"Well, maybe." He allowed with a chuckle of his own. "But maybe not.
People get married with secrets, most people, so maybe this way is
better."

"If we don't have any secrets?" I nodded.

"Eyes wide open, isn't that what we are?" Rodney asked. "No hiding, no
lying, if we accept it then...I don't know." He shrugged. "If it hurts,
it's only because we hurt ourselves, not each other."

"But I don't want you hurt at all." I said.

"I'll take the chance." Rodney leaned close and he kissed me lightly
on the lips. "You're worth the risk, Kylie. You're worth everything."

He kissed me again and I put my arms around his neck, parting my lips
for his tongue and moaning because all of his words had hit me like
arrows, piercing my heart and I did love him. Rodney was the best man
I'd ever known, except possibly my father, and he was in love with me.
He was willing to give up everything for me, even his pride, his
manhood in some ways. It sent a shudder through my body and my stomach
knotted with fear and joy and a sense of anticipation which was
indescribable.

Rodney was giving me everything I'd ever wanted on a silver platter
and asking for so little in return. I could love him, I knew that now,
and I could be his wife and make his home, but the rest of it... My
awakened emotions for the man were not going dissuade me from my
desires. I wouldn't suddenly wake up one morning wanting to have
Rodney's baby, I knew that too.

"Faith." I sighed as we broke our long kiss. "I hope we know what
we're doing."

"I do." Rodney smiled at me and I think it was my concern that pleased
him most, my obvious reluctance based not on any fear for myself, but
my concern for him. He understood it was genuine and whatever else I'd
said, Rodney had heard my honesty.

"Take off my sweater for me." I whispered, smiling at Rodney's grin as
he moved his hands to pull the fleece up from my waist.

He exposed my soft brown tummy slowly, and then my ribs and I stroked
his head, feeling Rodney's curling black hair cut close to his scalp.
He pulled my breasts taut, uplifting them as the sweater came over the
top, giving the man his first view of my firm tits. Soft like brown
butter and warm and blemish free, they were perfect, a gift from God
that I was offering now to him. My nipples were black and hard, an
inch long and nearly as thick as my little finger, surrounded by
areolas textured with tiny bumps. They were made for sucking and
biting and pinching, and my nipples were ever the keys to unlock my
pleasure.

I pulled Rodney to them, leaving my sweater still bunched over my
tits. I needed his attention immediately and I moaned with
satisfaction when Rodney's mouth found my left nipple, kissing it
first and then taking it between his lips. His left hand found my
right breast and I was on the edge of heaven. I urged him to bite me
hard, to chew that aching point of flesh and make me cry. I brought my
hand to cover his, pressing his palm hard against my skin, telling
Rodney that he wasn't going to break me. My tits needed it rough, they
liked to be squeezed hard and he did as I asked. I arched my back
against him, feeling his teeth tugging gently at my nipple and his
finger and thumb found the other one, pulling it outward so that I
responded with a sharp gasp of approval.

No one had ever touched me this way, kissed my body and massaged my
tits the way Rodney was doing it. I'd wanted it, but not from the men
I'd been with, and so this was new for me. I was trembling and
squeezing my thighs together, squirming on that bed as I felt my sex
growing moist. The walls of my pussy were distinctive, as if I could
feel every little muscle down there searching for something to clasp,
something to fill the emptiness between my legs. I groaned at the
frustration of being a nineteen year old virgin, even as I reveled in
the anticipation of curing that seeming unnatural condition.

But not tonight, I knew that. I'd carried my innocence this far and
I'd bear that burden happily to my marriage bed. I'd give myself to my
husband as a precious gift of love. Rodney would be my first, I told
myself, if he married me and whatever would come after, whichever man
I would offer my fertile womb, my husband would at least have my
virginity.

"Wait...Wait...Stop..." I was lifting Rodney's mouth from my nipple and he
drew back with a silvery strand of saliva stretching and breaking with
his smile.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I want to show you something." I said thickly and I was moving to
reach beneath my skirt, uncrossing my legs and I kept my eyes on
Rodney's, holding his attention.

"What are you doing?" He wondered playfully and I just stuck the tip
of my tongue out, pulling the thin gusset of my panty aside.

"Give me your hand, your finger..." I curled his right hand into a fist
with both of mine, pulling his middle finger out straight.

"Kylie..." He chuckled but I shushed him, bringing his finger to my
mouth and wetting it, sliding it between my tight lips and working my
warm saliva around his digit with my tongue.

"This is important..." I breathed, my heart hammering beneath my
breasts.

I pulled his hand down, under my skirt which still covered my sex from
view. I moved carefully, guiding Rodney's wet finger slowly until he
could feel my swollen labia, greasy and damp with my arousal. His eyes
were wide and I giggled nervously.

"Be careful now...Very careful, okay?" I could hardly speak and Rodney
nodded as his finger split my soft sticky lips, finding the tight
little mouth of my sex. No one had ever touched me there before.

"Just inside...Oh, please careful..." I shuddered with pleasure and my
clit was throbbing in time with my rapid pulse. I was going to cum, I
thought, just from this.

"Kylie...." Rodney blinked as he felt it, just inside my pussy, not very
deep at all. His fingertip brushed against my hymen and I could feel
it, that slight pressure, barely there but frightening to me
nonetheless. He was caressing my virginity, that thin barrier that
offered undeniable proof of my chaste heart.

"Can you feel it?" I asked him, holding his hand tightly now, not able
to trust him completely; I could barely trust myself.

"Is that your..."

"My hymen." I nodded slowly. "I'm going to give it to my husband on my
wedding night."

Rodney didn't say anything and his finger moved only slightly, not
deeper, not trying to penetrate me, but just to give that tiny part of
me a tender caress.

"I wanted you to know." I whispered.

"Thank you, Kylie."

Rodney didn't resist as I pulled his hand free of my sex and I brought
his still erect finger to my mouth once more, putting my lips around
it and tasting myself as I took him inside. I licked around that
finger slowly, cleaning it of my tangy juices while the man watched me
intently. When I let him pull his finger free he replaced it with his
mouth and I let him kiss me deeply, our tongues exploring each other
desperately, moving back and forth for many long minutes until we were
hot and breathless and smiling.

"Kiss my feet now..." I told him. "...My shoes, do you want to kiss them?"

"God yes, I'd love to kiss your shoes." Rodney grinned and it seemed
he'd been waiting his entire life for my permission.

It was how we would make love, with Rodney at my feet, worshipping me
as he desired. He began with my shoes, as I expected, licking and
kissing the black leather carefully. He had no hesitation, no fear in
him now and I gave him no specific instruction. I allowed Rodney to do
as he pleased, watching as he took the heels into his mouth one at a
time, sucking the three inch spikes as if they were thin black cocks.
He kissed the dusty soles and licked away any trace of dirt. It was a
pleasure for him, a very real one and I told him to take out his cock
and let me see it.

I pulled off my sweater completely while Rodney removed his shoes and
trousers and then his boxers so that he was naked from the waist down.
He'd left his jacket in the car and I giggled at him in his white
dress shirt and necktie, but I liked that look, the half-dressed
Rodney on his knees in front of half-dressed me. It was as if we were
too eager for our sex to bother with undressing completely, but in my
case it was more deliberate. I would keep my panties on and my skirt
as well, locking my treasure away and hopefully avoiding temptation.

Rodney's cock was long and thick, the shaft dark brown and heavily
veined beneath the smooth skin. The head was more pinkish and wet with
precum. It leaked steadily across his flesh and dripped onto the
carpet of my dorm room floor. I stared at it, watching that black
prick move up and down, back and forth as Rodney worshipped my feet. I
found it interesting, even arousing to see Rodney's manhood erect for
my benefit. It was a compliment, I thought with a small laugh, a
flattery and one that had to be sincere. My only disagreement was that
the penis wasn't white and I felt only a small pinch of guilt at that
realization. I didn't feel the same thrill I would have with a white
man so close and ardent in his desire.

"Take off my shoes now..." I told Rodney and he was more than happy to
comply. "Do you want to take off my stockings?"

"No, Kylie...Please. Can you leave them on for me?" Rodney quickly
replied and I giggled at his urgency.

"You like stockings?" I asked, simply because I didn't know and he
nodded.

"I love stockings and nylons, uh...Shoes and...Kylie..." Rodney laughed like
a boy on Christmas morning. "...You have no idea how much I love your
stockings."

"Okay." I nodded happily. "Good, then I'll leave them on for you."

"Thank you...Thank you..." Rodney sighed, going back to removing my shoes
carefully, as if they were golden eggs. He kissed each of them in
turn, setting them aside neatly, perfectly arranged side by side
because that was important to him.

And he kissed my stocking clad feet, one and then the other, just
above my toes. The white mesh seemed to please him greatly and he
spent some time just looking at my feet, handling them gently,
massaging each foot one at a time and he was unbelievably good at
that. I wanted to fall back and lay on my bed and rub my nipples and
clit while he treated me to his expert ministrations, but I so badly
wanted to watch him at the same time.

When I could stand it no more I pulled myself away from him, but only
momentarily so that I could fluff my pillows against the wall and lean
back against them, my feet on the bed now as Rodney knelt on the
floor. I played with my tits while he began to mouth my toes, taking
them individually or in pairs and threes and sometimes all of them at
once, crowding his mouth with my stocking clad feet and washing me
with his tongue.

I pinched and pulled at my nipples, moaning with pleasure while Rodney
looked up at me, his eyes shining with happiness. He was spoiling me
totally and all I could think of was how stupid all those other girls
had been to let this man get away. How stupid I'd almost been and only
Rodney's devoted love had brought this moment to life. It was his
moment and so was I, and I gave myself to him as completely as I was
able. The rest of me would have to wait and Rodney understood that. He
understood everything and I allowed myself to imagine the future and
how happy we could be if everything we'd said was true.

If we had enough faith in each other.

"Cum for me, Rodney...Cum on my feet for me..." I was panting, rubbing my
clit between my spread thighs.

I had my knees wide and flat, with the soles of my feet together and I
was so close to my orgasm I could barely speak, but I wanted us to cum
together. I wanted to see his cock ejaculating on my feet the way it
had before.

"Yeah...Okay..." Rodney agreed and he was breathless as well, his skin
flushed even darker than it would normally be, his smooth forehead
beaded with sweat.

He stood up, taking his cock in his hand and jerking off while I
rubbed my exposed clit. It was insane and sexy, mutual masturbation
while we stared at each other, and I was nearly in tears as my body
shook with the need to climax. I was trying to hold off, biting my lip
and groaning and telling myself to stop rubbing my burning clit, but I
had no control anymore. My orgasm was there, at the edge of all reason
and I was going to fall into it any second.

"Ohhh Kylie...God...I love you..." Rodney gasped, hunching over me quickly
and pressing his cock against my stocking clad feet.

"Yesssss...Fuck...Rodney cum for with me..." I arched my back, lifting my
ass off the bed as my climax erupted, the fire in my belly released at
the same time Rodney's cock exploded, with thick streams of white cum
spraying onto my feet as he pressed his cockhead against me.

We were cumming together, just as I wanted and I was rushing senseless
and headlong into the warm abyss of ecstasy. I pulled my hand away as
my clit became oversensitive, screaming her orgasmic protest at even
the slightest touch. I contented myself to hold my breasts, kneading
those swollen globes with my strong fingers digging deep. I pushed and
pulled at my flesh and spent an eternity waiting for my climax to
subside and praying that it wouldn't. I wanted to live in that place
forever.

Some time later, minutes or hours I had no way of telling, I opened my
eyes to find Rodney once more on his knees, cleaning his semen from my
feet. He understood that I'd expect it from him, to clean his own mess
from my body. I smiled and nodded, dragging cool air into my lungs as
I tried to express my pleasure and satisfaction. He lapped up his
sperm carefully, dragging his tongue across my stockings to gather it
up before swallowing thickly and going back for more.

He was going to be a good husband, I thought, a perfect husband if
everything he'd promised me were true. I only felt the small fear that
I might fail him somehow and find myself unworthy of his devotion. I
put that fear in a small place, locking it away because I knew I'd
never be rid of it. I needed it to remind me that I'd made promises of
my own and I wouldn't break them. Rodney deserved so much more than
me, but I was what he wanted and I was determined that he should have
me.

end
Kylie.X.writes@gmail.com

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