He picks up the case

You smile nervously as the black man strides confidently over to you. He offers you a smile of his own, his white teeth deeply contrasted to his dark face, takes ahold of your bag with a quick glance at the strange sticker, then turns and walks away. "Oh! Um, hi...?" you call out politely, but he is moving away quickly. Unsure of what to do, you chase after him as quickly as your high-heeled sandals will allow, your blonde hair streaming behind you and your DD-cup breasts jiggling delightfully in your low-cut blouse. "Uh, don't forget me!" you tell him, offering a nervous laugh, never imagining in your life you'd be chasing a negro across a darkened parking lot and begging for his attention.

You only manage to catch up when he pauses long enough to be putting the bag into the back of a SUV, by now you are winded from the effort. "Whew, thought you were going to leave little sister behind at the bus stop!" you note with another nervous laugh, trying to get the man to say something to you. You take a moment to adjust your boobs, as your pink nipples had started peeking out into the open during the chase. "I'm Stephanie by the way, I didn't catch your name?"

"You like black guys, Stephanie?" he finally replies, turning to face you, his features now obscured by the darkness.

Your green eyes shimmer as you press your lips together. "Um, sure..." you tell him, fidgeting with a lock of your blonde hair. "I like everybody, all kinds, so..." you trail off, unconvincingly.

"I mean black cock, blondie," he explains, loudly and slowly, leaning forward and causing you to take a step back. After a moment of tense silence he continues, "'Cause if dat yo case, dat yo sticker, and dat sticker say you love big black cock." You gasp, appearing horrified at the suggestion. "If not, guess dat ain't yo bag, blondie." Then he slams the trunk shut. "Then you just some stuck up white bitch who don't know what good for you."