She turned the picture back and looked at it again.“Well, you look at’cho pitcher and tell me what he look like.”Tricia shrugged. “I ... Well,...sunken cheeks, thin nose, down-turned, blue eyes. No real scars ... I don’t know how else to describe him.” She put the picture back in her purse.He nodded to her. “What’chu lookin’ fo’ him fo’?”“Well, I just need to talk to him.”“Summtin special ‘bout the boy, huh?”“Yeah.”“What are you? Child Services?”“No,” she answered immediately. “I’m a reporter. A. Finally you slip me into your mouth, and after only a few moments in that hot wet grip, my cock lets loose, shooting it's own special sauce into your throat. Looking down at your chocolate-smeared face next to my still half-hard rod, I fumble behind me in the bag to see if there is anything left in our supplies. I find what I am looking for, and gently draw you up next to me. Sliding down, tracing a trail over your body with my tongue, I lie down again between your legs and taste your pussy. If. More

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