I fell in love when I met a white American boy. His beautiful blue eyes, his pretty smile, his perfect body, and his tall frame attracted me to him. I...never met a man like that in my life. I was 18 and he was about 23 years old. I didn’t know much English so it was hard to talk to him. But he knew I wanted him. He lived in a Mexican neighborhood in San Antonio, Texas, and was dating my cousin Maria at the time. My cousin Maria introduced us to each other. His name was Justin and boy was he. "Hello, Shelly." I swallowed, unsure of what to say, watching as he squatted in front of the cage, his stomach at eyes level, forcing me look up, the top of my head pressing against the bars, allowing him to reach through and stroke my hair tenderly. "I knew you’d come. I wasn’t sure at first, not until the first time you got in it. From that moment, though, I knew. How does it feel?" "Scary." I told him, my voice so soft I thought it might be drowned out by the beating of my heart. "Good." Was. More

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