Sometimes love is so close that no one sees it.

I first met Angelica De Camp, when I was four and a half years old. I was exactly four and a half. I later called her my half year birthday present. She was the first black woman I ever met. At first I was afraid of her, not going near her ... she was different.

But as time went by (all of about fifteen minutes) I warmed up to her and soon we were inseparable.

I thought of Angie as a woman because I was four and she was so much older than me, a whopping eight years older. Everyone else considered her a twelve-year-old girl, which was exactly what she was.

Years later, she told me that in those early days, I would sit on her lap and pet her arm. I would tell her that I wanted to spread her color onto me so that we would be the same. She would laugh and giggle about that.

I think that a little family history would be appropriate, now.

My father, James William Mallory Jr., was an extremely wealthy businessman. He married my mother, Chloe, after his first wife passed away. I think that he really loved his first wife, but they had been childless.

His marriage to Mother was a marriage made on Wall Street. More of a business arrangement than a marriage, Father was about twenty-five years older than Mother.

He got a beautiful bauble to wear on his arm at the various functions they attended, and a male child out of the bargain, me - William James Mallory. Mother got what she wanted more than anything else, wealth and power.

My father made out very well from the deal. My mother was a fantastic businesswoman who helped my father run his business. She was also very, very beautiful and she still is. She is fiercely loyal to my father and I am sure that she has always been faithful to him, even with all of the time they spent apart.

Now this assessment may be very cold and cynical, but I didn't reach this conclusion about my parents until I was older. It happened during one of the few times that my parents were at home having a few friends for dinner. I overheard them tell everyone about my birth, and that they had arranged for my mother get pregnant so that she would have me during the slow season. This way they wouldn't have to take too much time off and be away from their business when it was busy. That really got a big laugh.

My mother brought Angie into our home to be a babysitter and companion to me. Angie's mother had died in childbirth; her father along with her grandmother raised her for years.

Angie's father, James De Camp, was a police officer in the city. When Angie was eleven, he was killed on the job. A year later her grandmother had a stroke and was unable to care for her. This was when Angie came to live with us. She attended the local elementary school and went on to the local high school.

To this day, I have no idea what the connection between the families was, but I no longer care.

Angie lived in our house in the help's quarters, the property manager and his wife watched over her. Mother and Father never went to the help's quarters, however as a child I spent more time there than anywhere else in the house. When my parents were away, which was most of the time, I would live with Angie.

She had a small suite: a nice sized bedroom, a sitting room and a full bath.

Most of the time I would sleep on the couch unless I was sad or scared, then I slept with Angie. At least that was the case in the early years.

I did have some family in my life, my grandparents. My father's parents were alive. I was the apple of their eyes. But their impact on my life was limited. They would be there for the big events, but not much in my day-to-day life.

You have to realize, my grandfather (Gramps) was 75 years old when I was born and my grandmother (Gram) was 71. Gramps was rather sickly and Gram was in a wheel chair. She had fallen down a flight of stairs and was paralyzed from the waist down.

Angie finished high school and went on to take courses at the local community college. She was a conscientious worker and instilled a good work ethic in me. She was a very moral person, and taught me to care for all living things and to treat others with respect.

When I started school, it was Angie who took me there on my first day. I held her hand and cried when she was leaving. She was the one who told me to be brave and that I would have fun.

She would drop me off and pick me up. When I had a school event or was in the Christmas play, it was Angie who would be in the audience clapping and cheering for me.

Angie took me to my T-ball games and later to Little League. She was the one who would console me when we lost and who would celebrate with me when we won. I don't think that my parents even knew that I played baseball.

She was at my kindergarten graduation, my elementary school graduation and my high school graduation. My grandparents would also be there, my parents were just too busy, or were out of town.

They would always throw a graduation party for me as soon after the event as was convenient for them. These would be gala affairs; all of their friends and business associates were there.

I would be dragged out and put on display for a while and then sent off to 'enjoy myself' because "You really don't want to be here with us old fogies."

For once they were right about what I wanted.

On the other hand, Angie would arrange the parties with my friends. Whether it was for my birthday, graduation, or any other event that she believed deserved a party. These were the fun parties with a dozen or so kids running around the house.

These parties were held when my parents were out. These were the ones my grandparents came to.

"I can't stand all of that noise and foolishness," my mother would groan.

"I love having all your friends here, playing and enjoying themselves," Gram would tell me.

Christmas was always a wonderful time. The workers would decorate the den. There would be a huge tree that was perfectly decorated. It had to be perfect, because if anything was not right, and mother was home to see it, there would be hell to pay.

Angie and I would decorate 'our' tree in her sitting room. We would go out and spend hours finding the perfect tree at the local nursery, discussing whether we wanted long needles or short ones; a tall tree or a small one. We would look at it from all angles, deciding which side was the best and what side would face the wall - all the important things about a Christmas tree.

We would carry it home and set it up. Then the next day, we would decorate it. We used ornaments that Angie brought from her Grandmother. Most of them were home made. We would make at least one ornament for each other every year. These were the first ones to go on the tree.

We would string popcorn for garlands on the tree. We started this the first year that Angie was with me and continued doing it. Even as a teenager, I would never think of not participating in our Christmas ritual.

Angie and I would have Christmas dinner with my grandparents. Gramps and Gram loved Angie almost as much as I did. She was family. They would buy her presents. She would sit at the dinner table with us. They treated her as my parents didn't.

Don't get me wrong; I didn't hate my parents for not being there. I never missed them. I had Angie. She was all I wanted or needed.

After finishing up at the community college, Angie went on to a local university and graduated Magna cum Laude, with degrees in Management and Accounting.

By the time I was starting high school, Angie was running the properties that my parents owned. The old manager had retired so Angie took over. She did the inventory, the ordering, and arranging to have things repaired when needed, everything that had to be done in managing the various properties. She kept the books and handled all of the finances involved with running them.

We set up a small office near her suite. It had two desks, as she would do her work, I would do my homework. I loved the arrangement.

My parents loved it. They thought that it was wonderful that this girl from the ghetto was doing such a good job for them.

I will say one thing for my parents; they paid their employees well and they paid for Angie's schooling. They treated them like shit, but they paid.

I used to get angry at what they (Mother) said to Angie and how they (Mother) treated her. But she would tell me that I just had to accept it. They were my parents and they weren't going to change.

One time, I asked Angie why she put up with them and their abuse; she smiled at me and said, "How could I ever leave my boy? I would miss you so much. Not only that, I could never find another job that would pay as much and give me the freedom that I have here."

This was when I realized that Angie worked here and if she ever went somewhere else to work, she would be out of my life completely. I never brought the subject up again.

As I got older, most of the time it would be just Angie and me in the house. The others were day employees so at night we would be alone.

As I entered puberty and began looking at girls and women, I found that my strongest fantasies were about Angie. At first this made me feel ashamed. But as I got older I realized that I was in love with her.

She was the woman that I wanted to be with.

I knew that Angie loved me, but it was more the love of a mother for her child and not the love of a woman for a man.

This was my secret. I did my best to treat her as I always did, but in my heart I was suffering.

The elementary school that I went to was an all boy's school. However, the high school I was going to go to was co-ed. There would be girls in the classroom.

It was during the summer before I started high school that Angie talked to me about sex.

Now I had taken courses in sex education so I knew the mechanics. But what Angie talked to me about was sex and love.

She explained that sex was the ultimate expression of love. That there was no greater pleasure than having sex with the one that you loved and were committed to. Casual sex was just rutting, like animals; just a search for a few moments of pleasure, which quickly faded, leaving you empty and feeling used.

Over that summer, we had many talks about boys and girls, men and women. I took her words to heart, because I knew that she was right.

I excelled in high school. My marks were excellent and I was on the swimming team (I was tired of baseball). Of course Angie would come to all of my meets and cheer me on. Even if I had a really bad showing at a meet, just seeing and riding home with Angie would make me feel so much better.

"Billy, we didn't do so well tonight, but we are going to work hard and do better tomorrow."

It was never you; it was always "WE".

I did date some in high school but nothing serious. The girls I met couldn't hold a candle to Angie. I would rather be with her.

My parents were very happy about my work in high school. My parents probably knew about the swim team but either didn't care or were too busy to care.

I would hear, "Smart boy ... a chip off the old block ... must be good genes ... the right upbringing."

Well at least with respect to the last one they were right ... no thanks to them.

I turned eighteen in December of my senior year of high school. I had applied to a number of colleges and universities. The more accurate statement would be that Angie and I applied to the schools. We spent hours in the office going over applications and preparing the essay and biography.

Most of the schools I applied to were Ivy League. My parents insisted. I was smart enough, and my parents could pay.

I wanted to study science and wanted to go to either MIT or Stanford. My father was happy that I wanted to study science. His undergrad degree was in chemistry (although he would joke that he went to school so long ago that the degree reads 'Alchemy'), so he did not have a problem with his son becoming a bio-engineer.

Mother on the other hand was not happy, but I didn't care.

Angie thought that it was wonderful that I wanted to study science.

In mid February, both Mother and Father were at home. They were all excited as a lot of schools were sending out acceptances ... and rejections.

One morning during the President's Winter break, I got to the mail first. I had been going down as soon as the mail came in because I wanted to be the first to get it. I knew that if Mother saw a letter from a school she would open it and depending on whether she liked that school, I might or might not see the letter.

That day, there was a letter addressed to me from MIT. I opened it very slowly. Unfolded it and read, "Dear Mr. William Mallory: We are pleased to advise you that you have been accepted into the class of..."

It took a moment for those words to sink in ... I got into MIT!

I was ecstatic. I threw all of the other mail across the table and ran through the house. Not upstairs to my parents room, but downstairs to Angie.

We had one cardinal rule. You never went into someone's room with out first knocking. Angie would always knock on my door and I always knocked on hers.

Not thinking, I burst through the door, shouting, "Angie, I got..."

I froze. Angie was standing in the doorway to her bedroom, having just come out of the shower. All she was wearing was a pair of pink panties.

We stood frozen, staring at each other. Her body was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Her light brown skin was glistening. Her breasts were firm, and although not large, were in my eyes perfect. Her areolas were a darker brown, as were her nipples. She had a slim waist and round hips that went down into slender shapely legs. Her ass was firm and round.

I had never even seen her in a bikini. During the summers she would always wear a modest one-piece bathing suit.

My dick immediately became erect.

Angie was staring at me. "William, you didn't knock!"

I looked into her eyes and moaned, "Oh Angie ... Angie ... Angie!"

I took a step toward her and then another.

She smiled at me and held her arms out to me as she came toward me.

I wrapped my arms around her as she held me close. I looked deep into her dark eyes. She was smiling at me. I could feel the dampness of her skin. I could smell the fragrance of the soap. I breathed in her aroma and felt the warmth of her body. Slowly I lowered my head and softly kissed her lips.

She returned the kiss. It was electrifying.

Then, all of the love, need and wanting that had been building for years erupted into passion. A passion built upon those years and years of love.

We mashed out lips together, her mouth opened and her tongue entered my mouth. My tongue met hers and danced with it. I ran my hands over her naked back, from the tops of her shoulders to her firm round butt. I pulled her into me, holding onto her with all my strength. I could feel my erection pressing into her thigh, as I knew she could.

I began to kiss her cheek and neck. I whispered, "Angie, Angie, Angie, I love you, I love you so much. I have always loved you and will always love you."

"Oh, my Billy, I love you more than anything in this world. Just hold me ... never let me go."

"I will never let you go, my darling. I want you forever, my beautiful Angie."

Her hand went down into my pants and she took my erection into her hand and began to stroke it.

I lowered my head and began to kiss her breast. I kissed and sucked on her nipple.

She held my head to her breast and moaned. "Billy, I love you, I need you, I want you. Please love me. Please take me."

I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to her bed. I laid her on the bed and lay down next to her.

Once again I was in Angie's bed, lying next to her, not as a child needing comfort or safety, but as a man, who would soon be her lover.

She pulled my tee shirt off and my pants down as she lifted her hips so I could easily remove her panties. We lay holding on to each other, once again we kissed. Angie opened her legs and I rose up and settled between them.

I looked at her and said, "Angie ... I never..."

"I know, my love. We have waited and we will learn together."

She took my dick in her hand and rubbed it along the lips of her labia. She was very wet and warm. She then guided the tip of my dick to the opening of her vagina. I slowly pushed into her. I hadn't gone far when I met with an obstruction. Her hymen was still intact.

I looked at her and said, "You want me to..."

Angie gazed into my eyes and smiled, "I have always wanted you to be my first. My first and only."

She grabbed my ass with her hands and with a quick hard jerk pulled me into her. My dick broke through her and in an instant I was completely inside her vagina. Angie gasped in pain as I broke through.

I looked into her eyes and asked, "Did I hurt you, my love?"

She gave a little sigh and softly said, "It was the most wonderful pain I have ever experienced. Now we will just go slowly."

She began to move underneath me and I slowly pulled my dick out of her. When I was almost out I slowly moved back into her.

We had given each other the most wonderful gift that a man and woman can give. Our gift was given with a love that had been growing for years.

I had never experienced such pleasure. This was my most cherished dream come true. I was making love to the woman I loved, had always loved and would always love.

When I was once again completely in her, Angie lifted her legs and wrapped them around my waist. As I pulled out and pushed in again, the tingling in my groin began to grow. I knew that I would not last much longer. I was going to cum.

I groaned, "Angie, I'm..."

She said, "Yes, my love, yes! Don't hold back, just let it go."

In an uncontrollable fit of passion I made two or three fast hard plunges into her and then pushed myself as far as I could go. All control fled and my balls gave up their white, hot fluid. My dick began to twitch and like a dam bursting, my semen flooded into Angie's vagina.

When my dick began to twitch and spew forth its fluid, Angie screamed and crushed her legs around me, pulling me deeper and deeper into her body. She grabbed my head with her hands and pulled my face to hers. Her lips attacked mine. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss was not soft and loving but a joining of lust and passion.

Again and again my dick twitched, sending forth my seed into her vagina, her womb. Again and again Angie spasmed and shook in what I knew was a powerful orgasm.

It seemed like forever that we were joined in that most pleasurable union. This was the consummation of the years of love and desire that we had been hiding from each other. This beautiful joining was the utmost expression of our eternal love.

Eventually, my dick softened and slipped out of her. For the longest time I lay next to her, holding her tightly in my arms. We kissed and whispered our love.

Angie laughed softly, "Now, tell me what was so important that you forgot to knock?"

I had forgotten. The acceptance letter was lying on the sitting room floor.

I got up on my elbow and said, "Well, it doesn't seem so important now, but I got an acceptance letter from MIT."

Angie jumped up and threw her arms around me. "Oh Billy, you were accepted into MIT, that's what we wanted."

I smiled and said, "Yes, my love, that's what we wanted."

"Did you tell your parents?" she asked.

I looked at her and said, "What do you think?"

She looked down at our entwined legs and laughed, "No, I guess not. You have to get up there and tell them right away." "I think that I should wash up first. I wouldn't want them to see me like this."

"Then get into the shower and wash up," Angie laughed.

I got up and started toward the shower. Then I stopped and turned around. I held my hand out to Angie and asked, "Will you join me?"

She got up, took my hand and as she kissed me, she said, "Absolutely my love."

I eventually went up to the library where my parents were sitting and discussing the business and I told them. My father was extremely happy, MIT was his Alma Mater, and now his son was going there.

Mother on the other hand said, "That's very nice, William. But you haven't heard from the Ivy League Schools, yet."

"That doesn't matter, Mother, I have no intention of going to any school other than MIT."

My father roared and shouted, "That's my boy, a regular chip off the old block. Ya know we have to take a trip up to the old school; I haven't been back there in years. It will be a lot of fun."

"Sounds great, Father," I laughed.

I'm still waiting to take that trip.

At this point Angie came into the library.

My father roared, "Angie, guess what. William here was accepted into MIT. That is my Alma Mater, you know."

Angie really looked surprised (what an actress) and came over to me and gave me a little hug. She said, "Oh William (She always called me that when my parents were around), that's wonderful. I know that you really wanted to go there."

My father put his arm around my shoulder and said, "Lets get some lunch, Son. Chloe are you going to join us?"

Mother sniffed and said, "No, you go have lunch. I will eat later. I have some things I want to discuss with Angelica." Mother did not get her way. Mother was not happy.

That evening my parents went out to a party. My father asked if I wanted to go, but I begged off saying that I had schoolwork to attend to.

"I have to keep my grades up you know, Father."

He slapped me on the back and said, "That's my boy!"

Mother didn't even try to hide her relief that I wasn't coming to the party.

"You wouldn't enjoy yourself with all the adults."

As soon as my parents left for the party, I went into the kitchen and prepared a special meal for Angie and me. I wanted to surprise her. Mother had taken her unhappiness out on Angie. It had been a tough day for her.

I had learned cooking from taking classes in school and being in the kitchen, learning from the chefs that mother hired. I had set up the small dining area that I had built in the workers quarters. I opened a bottle of father's best wine, poured two glasses and brought them into Angie's office. I knocked before I entered.

As I entered, Angie laughed and said, "It's a little late for that, isn't it?" Then she looked at the glasses. "Wine? you know..."

"A celebration, for today I found my one and only love. Oh yea, I also got into MIT!" I laughed. We clinked glasses and took a sip. We put the glassed down, put our arms around each other and kissed, long and passionately.

I took her hand in mine and led her into the dining room. She gasped as she entered. I had set it up like a small intimate restaurant. The small table had a white tablecloth, the places were set with our best china and silver, the wine was cooling in the silver cooler and I had a small candelabrum with two candles.

I led her to the table and pushed her chair in as she sat. Then I went to the kitchen and brought out one course after another. While we ate we talked about school and going to MIT.

When we finished desert Angie helped me take the dishes from the sideboard and put them into the dishwasher.

We went into her sitting room and sat on the couch. For a while we just sat there holding each other. Not saying anything, just basking in the warmth of our love.

Angie began to softly kiss my face, my lips, my cheeks, my jaw. She moved to my neck and began to unbutton my shirt, then took it off.

She kissed my chest, then kissed and sucked on my breasts and nipples. I had never felt anything like that. I never knew that a man's breasts could be so sensitive. As she sucked and kissed, she unbuckled my belt and opened my zipper; I moved up and removed my pants and boxers in one movement.

She took my erect dick in her hand and began to stroke it. She slowly kissed and bit her way down my abdomen to the base of my cock. She lifted her head and kissed the tip of my dick. She licked the pre-cum that was oozing out. She then moved her lips down over my dick, taking more and more of it into her mouth. Her tongue was caressing me in a way I never experienced before.

I was gasping for breath, the feeling overwhelmed all of my senses. I didn't see anything but Angie, I couldn't hear anything other than the sounds that my love was making as she sucked me. I was only aware of the fantastic pleasure that my love - my Angie - was giving me.

I was moaning, "Oh, my love that feels so good! You are so wonderful, I love you so much, I want you and I will always want you. You are my life."

Once again I felt the tension building in my balls. I knew that I would soon be spilling my cum. I told Angie that I was getting close. I didn't know what she was going to do.

She just started to suck harder. She was bobbing her head up and down on my dick, going faster and faster until my body went stiff and I grabbed her head and held it to my cock. She pulled up a little, keeping the head of my cock in her mouth and as I began to ejaculate she continued to suck and swallow my hot cum. She kept sucking until I had no more to give.

When she had licked the last bubble of cum off the head of my dick, she looked up at me.

"Was that good for you my sweet? I wanted to make you happy. I wanted to give you pleasure. Did you like that?"

"That was the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done to me," I replied.

I said, "Now, my love you just lay here, I want to make you happy and give you pleasure," as I kissed her lips.

I began to unbutton her blouse. I kissed her neck and shoulders, and I unhooked her bra. I sat back and gazed at her breasts. I have never considered myself a breast man, but there was something about Angie's breasts that drove me wild.

They weren't large, maybe 28B, but they were round, firm; I might say perky. They were light brown and her areolas and nipples were the color of dark chocolate. I thought that they tasted just as sweet.

I lowered my head and kissed them, first the right and then the left. I took her firm nipple in my mouth and began to softly suck. I flicked it with my tongue and bit lightly.

Angie moaned and held my head to her breast, "Oh Billy that feels so good. I love when you suck me."

As I sucked her breasts, I unzipped her skirt and pulled it down over her hips. I then ran my hand up between her thighs. When I got to her panties I felt that they were very wet.

Angie lifted her hips off the couch and I pulled the panties off.

I started to kiss my way down her body, kissing over her flat firm stomach and over her sparse patch of black kinky pubic hair. Angie spread her legs and for the first time in my life I saw a woman's vagina. I had seen photos but never the real thing.

The lips and folds of her vulva were dark brown, almost black; darker than the surrounding skin. The heady fragrance of her womanhood was intoxicating. I breathed it in; savoring the bouquet like a gourmand would enjoy a fine wine.

I lowered my head toward her. I had to taste her; I needed to taste her. With my fingers I spread the lips of her vulva and saw the pink tunnel of her vagina.

I kissed those lips, moving from the top to the bottom. I began to lick her lips, tasting the pungent juices that seeped out of her.

I couldn't believe that anything could taste so wonderful. I lapped and sucked which made her flow all the more.

She was moaning and her hips were writhing beneath my face. Her hands were on the back of my head, pushing me tighter between her thighs.

"Oh Billy! Oh god, that's wonderful ... wonderful! Yes ... yes, that feels so good," she moaned.

I thought of her clitoris, but not really knowing where it was, I began to move to the top of the vulva, slowly exploring with my tongue.

As I explored I pushed my finger into her vagina. I knew that I hit the mother load when Angie gave a piercing shriek. She arched her back and slammed my head into her groin.

I sucked on the little nub and Angie screamed, "Oh Billy! Oh my love, Billy, Billy! My darling, my sweet darling! Oh my god!" I furiously pumped my finger into her as I continued sucking. Her body went stiff and shook. This went on for a couple of minutes and then she slowly started to relax. She lay on the couch breathing deeply. While she came down from her soaring orgasm, I lifted myself from between her legs and moved up next to her.

She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me hard. She began to lick all of her juices from my face. I ran my finger over the lower part of my face and licked it off. I looked at her while I licked off the finger I had been fucking her with and said, "Nectar of Angie, so much better than anything the gods ever tasted."

She smiled, "My sweet loving Billy, I never dreamed that I could feel that much pleasure. You have given me so much love. Please don't ever leave me."