I listened intently as she explained. She told me how she craved to be used, to be a slut. How she fantasized about being a whore. To be a play thing ...sed for a mans pleasure. How she felt she needed it. She went on to say she was only attracted to white men. How she dreamt of being used, fucked hard and deep by a white cock. She wanted him to call her his filthy little whore. I was speechless. My cock was throbbing against my leg. This was definitely not what I was expecting. This beautiful. He ridiculed my pro bono cases. He made fun of my trying to get things done for kids in bad neighbourhoods.I lapped it all up. And purred.Of course I saw in the end who he was. A bit late, I admit. But hey, even dumbo's have to start somewhere. Problem with this dumbo, though, was that she didn't stop admiring him. Doting on him might be a better word.I was never a girl to have many friends. Especially after I became moonstruck over damn Phil. The few girlfriends I did have I had pushed away by. More

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