They were alldressed in black hanging out in what looked like a music video from theearly 80s. Or maybe a better description would be an amature drama...icproduction of Dracula. She noticed one of the girls had one of those dogcollars that punks used to wear.She opened the door and he stood up. It looked like a normal boy'swardrobe, just with a lot of black. Something silver caught her eye, apair of handcuffs half covered by a dark blue bag. Not the heavy dutyones the cops used, but still fairly. As I hit the floor, a cry of mild pain was forced out of me. The sound was swallowed up as I got a mouthful of quim.You know the saying, the darker the berry, the sweeter the juice? This was one sweet blackberry.I couldn't resist. My tongue snaked out and licked.Cleo had been struggling -- to regain her footing, I guess -- but immediately she froze. I pulled back my tongue and tensed, ready for her to scream, beat on me, whatever. I had no defense for that lick. What could I say, it was a slip. More

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