She had short, well-kept hair and a friendly face.“Out!” The woman commanded and stepped back.Michelle, her hands secured in handcuffs, struggled ...to her feet and slowly, and carefully, made her way down the tight corridor in the van and stood at the top of the three steps, allowing the lady with the dark hair to take hold of the handcuffs and gently guide her down the steps and onto the ground. She was led through the back door of the building and down the corridor. Michelle tried to look over. A woman screamed and another covered her mouth to silence her.We entered the camp cautiously. Most of the men did as I did, laying down their rifles and walking in with a cocked Colt in hand. We checked the Indians one by one. No need to get killed because we were in a hurry. Twice I heard the bellow of a Colt when a Ranger found a Comanche who wasn't dead yet. We didn't take prisoners.When we were sure they were all dead, the Captain said, "Tully, you're in charge. Second Squad, follow me."He. We are not the same people who say: Race is not important... It is important to us... We have race-specific desires.Even in a time when nearly 40 percent of single Americans have dated outside their race, that deliberate seeking of the specific other makes some people, especially black women, damned mad.We are what they denigrate and castigate: white she males and mature black men who choose one another because of our racial differences. They resent our taking their men. mature Black men are. We came to a shuddering halt at the basement and the extra bump on landing, provided Sara the opertunity to pull off his cock.'There Jones'ey' she said, 'Two beauties for the price of one' and she held his face in her hands and kissed him on the mouth, as his sperm ran down her nose and in between their lips kissing.The cool air hit us, taking the ardour out of the moment when the doors opened, and we pushed into the cubical at the far end.Sara took the towel hanging and wiper his cum off her.