Tender and considerate

Dear Diary, (May 22nd, after breakfast)

I once again have the time to write and can finish my description of my encounter with Robert. In truth, I did not know what to expect, or for that matter even what I wanted from the somber young lawyer. At least some part of me wondered if he would, like other powerful white men of his station, use me like a negro fancy maid summoned to his bed for his pleasure. I imagined myself face down on the bed with my backside raised up in the air as he pushed into me with brutal **** from behind.

Mr. Thornton, it turns out, was as caring and considerate a lover as any man I've ever shared a bed with. Don't get me wrong, I am not a Jezebel harlot like my mother with her steady stream of patrons, but neither am I the chaste virgin that Mr. Thornton was expecting. In spite of his honorable nature, I was after all a beautiful young woman here in his bed and no man, no matter how virtuous he might be, could pass up on an opportunity like this.

He took my face in his hands and lowered his lips to mine in a soft kiss that made my whole body quiver in anticipation. Judging by his heavy breathing and the stiffness of his manhood pressed against the soft flesh of my belly, Mr. Thornton was as affected by the kiss as I was.

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“Miss DiFlorentini!” I remember him trying one last time to do the right thing, “If we do not stop right now, I will not be able to restrain my base masculine urges.”

Instead of using words to persuade the young man, I spread my legs under him in an invitation as old as time itself. The look in Mr. Thornton's eyes promised that he might deliver on everything I hoped for.

“I'll be as gentle as I can, Miss DiFlorentini.” It was only then that I realized that Mr. Thornton thought I was still an unspoiled virgin. Perhaps I should have been honest with him at that moment, but I instead deflected with a teasing reminder.

“Remember, Robert, call me Bianca.” I am glad that the shades to his windows were drawn because in the dim light streaming through the cracks my skin looked almost as light as his and he would not be reminded of my true heritage.

“I'm sorry, Bianca. I keep forgetting.” As we kissed, we worked together to position his manhood against the soft petals of my sex causing a warmth in my core that made me melt inside.

There was no more conversation for the next few minutes as Robert pushed carefully into me, and then once safely nestled in my feminine passage he pushed hard, embedding himself deep within me.

I let out a sudden gasp when he pressed into me, filling me with his member. I was not trying to deceive the young man into thinking he had deflowered me, but I fear that is how Robert interpreted it. He paused, lifting his body from mine as he gazed down at me with concern and tenderness.

“Are you OK?” Instead of answering him I wrapped my legs around his back and pulled him even deeper into me. What followed was a gentle coupling that built slowly into an intense passion that ended with first me climaxing wildly and Robert following right on my heels.

We lay together for a few minutes before with a groan of satisfaction Robert rolled off of me. In the soft moonlight I could see his long, slightly curved member still fairly rigid gleaming with my juices.

“You must think me a most awful cad, Bianca.” I could hear the genuine regret in Robert's voice, and I turned to cup his face confused by his pain. “I took from you what can never be returned, yet I cannot marry you. I wish I could, I really do, but my family would never allow it.”

This I realize is the moment when I must be honest with my dear Mr. Thornton, but I hesitated. I was afraid if he learned that I had had multiple lovers before him would he attribute my promiscuousness to my mother's blood.