A tight, pink t-shirt clung to her melons—she wore no bra, her nipples dimpling the fabric—with the words 'Daddy's little girl' printed on it. Onl... 'girl' was crossed out and 'slut' written beneath it.I let out a hungry growl. She was a slut with a capital S.Beware the maiden, pink of hair. Astarte's voice whispered in my mind.She walked past, her ass writhing like a bag full of cats beneath that tight jean skirt. My pecker ached so bad to stick it in her cooch. I followed her. She was so. .." Catherine, I thought the same of you, but there's something Mark and I want to talk over with you. We've been trying all week to call you but..." The answering machine on the phone in my apartment is on the blink. What was it you wanted to talk about?" How about some coffee?" suggested the beautiful black woman.Catherine looked longingly toward the elevator but acquiesced and fifteen minutes later they were sharing a table at a small sidewalk cafe."How have you been? We heard about the. More

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