' He said, as he spat on his hand and slipped his fingers roughly into her cunt making her arse wobble. 'Suck that black cock.' He pulled out and lay ...n the bed. 'Come here bitch.' He jammed her head hard down on his cock and fucked her throat again. He looked over at me. 'See. This is how you treat a woman.' He yanked her up by the hair, 'Ain't that right Sam?' She just had time to say yes as he pushed her back down on his cock. 'Give your sissy a taste.' Sam got up and leaned over. She. Then again, your typical middle to high school student wouldn't be able to give you a decent enough description in the first place. Because of this, music became very important to me, almost a medium that allowed me to see color. Figuratively, of course. The songs of troubled times, of troubled people are called the blues, a color. And I began to relate sad things with this color. I would soon learn that this is only one facet, one shade of the color blue, though. Red was the color of anger,. More

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