Each day, I would stare on and on, into the heavens, waiting for that angel to come down. I aggressively, then tenderly, called for her love. Her swee... angel tan body, luscious and curved like a motherly swan rescuing me from my low self-esteem. I, in strange, theatrical madness cursed her for her lack of love profession, for loving my face, my hair, my strong, powerful body, but not that crude disgusting thing lurking in my pants. That silent, grotesque lump of God-given clay yet to be molded,. He took me at a friend's house, when hewas bored watching television. He took me at a cocktail party, my facepushed into the wall. I never had time to be offended. He'd rip mypanties off and be inside me before I had time to notice. I stoppedwearing panties, because he treated me as though I were bare-assedanyway. I didn't exactly object to this, because my pussy was always so glad tobe so well penetrated that I had no other thoughts.He called me "Chiquita" as if I had no other name he could. More

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