My Clint .was it a ghost? I felt wetness down my thighs, and around my Clint. Fingers tracing my Clint. Wetness...in circles deep and deeper pressing ...ips up high ..opening my lips in a massage and a toungue gentle swirling around my inner walls. I screamed in pleasure, as my Clint tore. I lifted up instantly, as this presence became deeper. Darker. Wicked. In a fast motion, and rough toungue lashing. Deep and hard up my Clint. My torn clint sore and I was soared to extacy. I felt a toungue. " Then they walked back out the door.Gee, someone will be with me in a few minutes, Olivia muttered to herself. Well, they can take their sweet time. I'm in no hurry. She looked over at the officer sitting at the desk. She was a large, black woman about 30. She did not look up and did not seem in any hurry. At no time did she even acknowledge Olivia's presence.Olivia looked around the jail. It was cold sitting on the bench. Olivia had goose bumps and the small hairs on the back of her neck were. More

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