His answer was always the same..... "Not my little princess". When I would pout and be upset by this he would smile, take me in his arms, place me on ...his lap and softly explain that I was special and I wasn't ready to deal with the young idiots that were growing up today. He would brush my long blonde hair and tell me how special I was and that one day soon I would be ready to meet the right person. Someone that would see me for the lovely princess I had become and nurture, love, protect and. However the majority of this story is fictional. Yes I am white.My name is Jeff and in real life I am 35. I enjoy working out at the gym and Kate says I have a good gymnastic build. Not muscular but toned all over. I am only 5'6? and weigh 125 pounds. Since this is going to be fictional my sex life with my wife Kate is not important. Well Kate and I may write about our sex life some day with our friend Mike but not in this fictional story. Both my parents were born in England and came to the. There looked like an awful lot of open space between the house and barn to Jack. He got the bright idea of crawling, which seemed to hide him well, but made it so he couldn’t see where he was going. Trusting his sense of direction, he just kept crawling until his head suddenly bumped painfully into the boards of the structure he was seeking.He inched upwards and looked back at the house. Seeing no movement, he stood.The latch on the barn door was higher than he could reach.At a loss, he started. At each end of the neck were two D-rings. From the bottom of the bag, a tube descended. Both the bag and the tube were clear, the contents plainly visible.And those contents were a darkish, yellow liquid. I didn’t need to ask what it was! ?How much?? was my only query to Mistress Ebony.?A gallon,? she remarked, casually.?A gallon?? I said. ?Fuck, Ebony, that’s eight fuckin’ pints!??Yeah, don’t I know it,? she grinned. ?Or, rather, don’t he know it!??Tasty, eh, Cunt?? I asked.?Yes, mistress,? he.