Some of his contemporaries were managing projects all over the world, in faraway places, but my father never seemed to accept these assignments and I ...now, for certain, he refused because of me. Nonetheless, we lived well. We did not live extravagantly, but we lived well.While I was growing up, I had an African-American, black, babysitter or, as we call them now, a nanny. Her name was Olivia and I loved her dearly. She took care of me every day while my father was at work and she cooked most of. ”“I know, sis. I want you so bad but if you’re not ready, I’ll stop. Just tell me what you want, baby.”“I want you to be my first,” I whispered.“Are you sure?” he asked one last time. I nodded, and he slowly pushed into me, tearing my hymen. I squeezed my eyes shut and he stopped.“Are you okay, baby?” he asked me.“It hurts,” I responded.“Take a deep breath…that’s it…now let it out. Just breathe. I won’t move until you’re ready.”“Okay,” I whispered and concentrated on my breathing and soon, the. More

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