My mother is a West African mulatto. Her father was French and her mother a local girl, his secretary. Of course they were not married. My mother was a beautiful honey brown, with clear eyes and a wonderful figure, full with large breasts and a nice sized bottom. My mother attracted flies and she attracted men with money who saw her mulatto beauty.

My father was also European, and I inherited my mother beautiful honey skin and her eyes, I just didn't get those beautiful breasts, I am just normal, normal sized breasts, a C cup. Oh how I wish I had my mother's breasts, those are the breasts of a woman.

My father took me, and left my brother with my mother. I was raised by mother and his wife, and English girl with very fair skin and green eyes who would stop short when she tried to explain this brown girl with honey colored eyes and skin. Like my mother, from the earliest age, I attract flies, they are always around me. I hate those flies, I am born of a proud woman and I am woman for a white man of means. not some black fly.

My opportunity came when I met a man, he was divorced with a Lebanese wife and three daughters. These girls were all the best mix of Arab and American, and smart like their father. They were not to keen on me, first because I am African through my mother and also because I was so much younger than their father. If I was to have money, his age did not matter. A white man with money is hard to come by, and this one was willing to marry, unlike my grand father and father, I would be the first, my African blood would mix with a white man, and I would be his wife.

At the wedding day, his daughters all came, with long faces, but came to see their father married to this African woman. This African woman who would bring them African siblings, because of one thing I was sure, I would have babies, four babies, and they would be beautiful babies.

One evening, I was sporting a fine belly, my husband's oldest daughter came to me and said she had something she wanted to talk about. She said she had a girlfriend, a French girl from Marseille, a beautiful girl from her photo. They were lesbian and she knew her father would not approve. I looked at her hard and I told her I did not approve, that she was old enough and she should get married and have children. I did not want to hear about a girl from Marseille. I told her the next news I wanted to hear was that her belly was full.

But she would not take my advise and her father was more than angry, she was prohibited from coming to our home, no girl from Marseille was going to spoil such fine fruit. I took it into my own hands and found an African man, a dark beautiful African man and offered her to him if he would bring her back pregnant. She would also have African children. He stole her and took her to Africa and put her in his house and he kept her pregnant like I had asked. In return I gave my African son in law, a gift from my grandmother, a diamond pendant of the most exquisite kind.

My daughter in law's African children were beautiful, brown with dark hair and Arab looks. My children, their African part now just one eighth still came through, but they were so light, they looked like children of the sun, not children from Africa. My daughter in law's African children made room for mine, mine were light skinned, and their features now more European, whereas my daughter in law's children were dark with the African man's features.

I had done my part, three generations my grandmother's children had been taken, and now I had returned African blood, and given a white woman to an African man.