“Typical fucking white whore’” he continued. “You all crave powerful cock.”His orgasm came sooner than he wanted, but he let it run its cou...se; he wasn’t going to deny himself release this time. He felt the sweet beginnings of an impending explosion. The intensity of his rising pleasure seemed to travel like a warm wet wave from the place where his asshole and balls met, traveling the length of his cock to the tip. He knew he was dripping copious amounts of pre-cum by now on her sexy little. It was the time for fixing things. A curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we keep.It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing, eating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there’d always be more.But then my mother died, and on that clear summer’s night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there. After a few minutes, I saw her leave and walk to unit number 21.I got out of the truck and walked across the street. I knocked on the door. Sandra opened it and I entered. She closed the door. With one hand she pushed me back against the door. She wrapped both arms around my neck, pushed her body up against me and we began to kiss. She grabbed my right hand and lowered it between us to her crotch.“Finger fuck me. Finger me off. I wanna cum fast and hard!”My fingers went inside the waistband of. There was, however, one or two other people glad to be changing out of rain soaked clothing. Enough to give me some clue as to what to stuff into the too small locker (everything) and the appropriate dress code (nothing).The locker came equipped with two towels, two condoms and a small sachet of KY jelly. Nobody that I could see seemed to be bothering to carry any of these objects so, after showering for the second time that evening, I took the lubricant and spread it in the only place I.
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