“No” I assured her. “It looks great!” She bent forward, and her breasts bulged at the edge of her top. She said “What about when I bend forw...rd like this?” She put her hands on her knees and the top loosened and fell away slightly, from her breasts. “Your hair is in the way” I said. “Come down here,” she said, pointing to the floor in front of her. I squatted down in front of her. My face was about two feet from her deep cleavage. Her breasts hung down pendulously. I wanted to stick my face in. I sat in front of my computer and wrote a letter. I wanted Steve to understand exactly who I was and what I went through. I wanted him to know how much I loved him, and how I’d die before hurting him. I wanted him to understand the darkness I carried inside of me. All the anger I felt at being constantly belittled, humiliated and mistreated simply due to my skin color and national origin by the wealthy White couple which adopted me. I wanted him to know what he meant to me. As a young gal, I. More

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