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s face, attempting to discover his identity. His make-up
was so wonderful that I literally had no idea.
His only response was to pick me up in his strong arms and carry me
over to my bed. He gently put me down and lowered his black lips upon
me. I tried to tell him that the door was open leading right to the
packed party but he paid no attention. His mouth continued to learn of
mine, his tongue darted toward mine, never uttering a word.
I began to feel tremendously hot from these seductive, passionate
kisses. There was something incredibly seductive about the prospects
of making love to the likes of Dracula, not knowing if he was good or
evil.
As his black painted lips continued to cover mine, I felt his hand
begin to circle my breast, first one then the other. Then he carefully
removed my pasties which barely covered my nipples. Soon his lips are
on my neck. My body shakes with an uncontrollable chill. Dracula
exists only in fiction, or does he?
His tongue followed my cleavage. He began to stroke the outer contours
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