The inkwell was now on the groundand something was... emerging from it. Somehow, that tiny bottle of inkheld a humongous black mound. Whatever it was,...it was big, black andgooey. There was no other possible comparison then that of black ink.It was floating in midair, hovering in the middle of the room andslowly rippling, giving the impression that it was alive.Freaked out beyond reason, I noticed it was stretching the top ofitself slightly in my direction, was it looking at me? This was. Her index finger probed his ass hole, “How’s that?” she asked. She didn’t need an answer as his cock suddenly went absolutely rigid, “Are you sure you’re not queer?” she asked.“No, its your tits digging in my back and your perfume,” he insisted.“Don’t pretend Broadstairs, I know you like my finger up there, just imagine how nice a cock will feel,” she cooed.“Its a nice female finger miss, if women had cocks it would be all right but they don’t,” he pleaded.“In that case prove it, fuck me.” She. More

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