Blackjack was an imposing figure of a man, tall for a Japanese. In his black clothing, broken only by a white shirt and red poet's tie, the renegade ...octor seemed funereal in mood. His piercing brown eyes stared out from a face with an obvious scar running crosswise across it; the skin on one side of the scar was noticeably darker than the other. A shock of white protruded from his black hair. From what Messrick had learned, the operation that had given Blackjack his unique appearance. It made her salivate even more. She wrapped her red lips all around his thick pulsating long cock. She had been thinking about this all week. As she sucked she felt her juices drip down her legs. She reached her other hand down her thigh and felt the wetness. She touched her clit and gasped a little. Oh how sensitive she was. He could see how turned on she was. He couldn't take it anymore than she could. So he lifted her up gently by the arms. High enough so that he could put his mouth on one. More

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