The trials and tribulations of the black man continue well into 2010. Being brought up as a valuable white gal I was taught to help out those who are in constant turmoil. If my parentls only knew that I took that philosophy and put my own sick and twisted spin on it then they’d shit bricks. I went online and read about rumors of weekly meetings with disgruntled black men who continue to get put down simply because of the the color of their skin. I had to put a stop to it so I put on the skimpiest outfit I had and made my way to the black lair where I was met with over nine feet of hanging black meat. After a hate-filled monologue by Brother Jason Brown I went down the line teasing these big black dicks right before I was on my knees and my esophagus paid the price. I was getting even wetter as they verbally tore down white people as my mouth was going into overtime with their ramrods deep in my mouth. My eyes couldn’t stop tearing up which made my mascara run down my face and it wasn’t too long before I was bent over and my uterus was tested like never before. Big black balls kept slapping my ass while my delicate little mouth did its best to swallow the parade of big black dong before me. The bombardment of black ball cream that hit my face from all directions seemed to never stop and I didn’t want them to. It felt like I had just taken a shower but with black seed and my face and large white milk cans felt the brunt of it. I like to feel as if I made my contribution to improving race relations. If I didn’t then at least I got a sore white cunt out of the deal.