“You’re a twisted slut, Angela.” Brandon whispered back. We shared a smile, and I dropped. He ran through me, parted my channel, stretched me to...my limit, then stopped at my bottom. A gasp tore from my lips, my body froze in paralytic shock, my eyes bulged. His invasion was molten, radiating heat into my virgin flesh, his girth pressing and stretching me, his length invading my sanctity, spearing into my abdomen. The loss of my chastity echoed through my nethers, then dwindled with my passing. “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 journalist. My name’s Tricia Sanchez.”He raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Ain’t got no plans for him?”Tricia shook her head. “Uh. More

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