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Her vulva was slick and inviting, plainly in sight, but she was drowning, not caring one bit that the violinist could see every inch of her most private crevice. Her legs fell apart, and Brian's fingers played as surely and delicately as those of Boris, strumming to the music.


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Excerpt from The Black Pearl by Isabel Inglott (For the full novel inside the Sssh Library, click here)
Copyright © 2004 Isabel Inglott, ABCD WebMasters & Wicked Velvet