It was a southern summer and my mother had to go back to work after my father passed away. to help out around the house and to keep an eye on mr we hired a black girl to do the housework a couple of days a week. I was out of school and 12 at the time. It was hot and her name was Kizzie. While watching TV I noticed while she was ironing that the one piece dress that she wore was only tied at the middle and was coming undone.

Kizzie was only about 20 and a deep black , small frame but huge breasts.

I could see them moving side to side with the motion of the ironing. As the dress got looser my interest in watching TV waned and I turned to watch Kizzie. I started asking questions about her life only to get the short responses like yassir Mr. Pete and nosuh Mr. Pete. After a while she got more relaxed and noticed I was looking at more than her ironing. She asked me if I liked what I saw and I told her yes I did. She said if I was a god boy she would show me her breasts. I said I'd be a very good boy if she showed me everything. She said I was too young but after much coaxing hse agreed .

She stepped back and opened her dress and showed me her breasts whuch as I suspected were huge. The had failrly small but thick nipples. Her stomach was flat and I worked my gaze down to her honey pot. It was a thick tangle of black curly hair and as black as she was it still was darker. She wouldn't let me touch it but I did get to her to lay down on the sofa and spread her legs a bit soi could take a look at it. It looked slightly moist and pink. She told me it was her softness and in a few years I would want to put my length in her. I was only twelve and didn't exactly understand the full significance of this until later but she was right. Ever since I've only wanted black softness. Later I'll tell the story of her boyfriend who came over and played her one day . He had what must have been a twelve inch thingy and balls the size of tennis balls.