My tongue traced down her stomach and flicked over her navel, evoking soft sounds to escape her lips. Soon my tongue teased and tickled her trimmed pu...ic hair as it neared its prize. Licking and kissing through her pubic hair, I gently bit the outer lips of her honeypot before slithering my tongue inside her honeypot to dance upon the soft velvety inner folds.Tasting her sweet juices oozing out, I licked ferociously and soon was greeted with even more juices flowing as she moaned. My hands slid. It was likely that it would become necessary for me to return in a few days. At that moment I was thinking more of my home and bed than I was of vampires.Besides with a case this cold nothing was ever likely to happen, and there was certainly no time limit on it not happening. I could go back to Triboro, as I thought of my town these days, and just enjoy myself for a couple of days. Alison drove the Buick carefully home. She couldn’t seem to get comfortable in her car’s well padded seat. She. She then drops to her knees and looks up at my face before proceeding to unbuckle my belt and pull down the jeans. She then rises and continues to kiss by circling her tongue around my own. The heat is rising - and I my black boxer-shorts are beginning to pulsate from the erect cock within.I can feel her body motion change as her crotch rubs over my boxers in a repeating fashion. She then unzips her dress - to reveal all but her stockings and black-lace underwear. Her underwear rubbing against. This is really professional.”That was my introduction to one of the most influential men I’d ever meet in my life. Richard “Dink” Jones was the editor and publisher of The Dispatch. (And in case you are wondering, “Dink” was the name for a half roll of news print.) In later years, I would met other men in the newspaper and printing business with the nickname Dink.Dink invited me into his office where he explained the actual newspaper staff consisted of him, one full-time reporter, a part-time.