My tongue traced across the surface of it, teeth digging in until small marks were made. I sucked on that skin, endeavoring to bruise, as he growled. ...he sound curved my lips and soon his hips were shifting again, slowly, so slowly, sliding out of me. That there almost took the breath from me, but I remained at his neck, stubborn enough to bite down harder. My hands crawled the length of his back, touching across the arch of it, until I grasped the supple flesh of his ass and squeezed. My. And that's why they stay. Granted, drugs and booze cloud that, but that's what they think is true; you will never, ever, argue a kid off the street. Not unless it's their first day."Scared straight? Are you kidding? They live on the street. Every day in every way, life on the street is worse than any jail or boot camp. The bottom line is that they are out there by their own choice. Arguing just gets their backs up. They turn you off; start to mess with you." I want to learn what it's like," I. More

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