Intimacy. Something scary, vulnerable, and beautiful, where I could pretend for just a moment I could lean on someone. That I could be loved.“Lan...?”“You have roommates?” My voice was raw.“No.”“Your place is fine.”In moments, I recognized Murray Street and the city rescue mission. The homeless and transients that grouped together on the sidewalks, in the parks. I caught my reflection in the window. Red and orange lights flashed on my face, shadows finding the fine grooves of my wrinkles. The park has a little petting zoo, we went there first to see the rabbits, sheep, some goats and chickens, I even got to hold one of the rabbits, it was huge.We went on some rides on the funfair and Daisy bought us ice creams, it was such a great day, and once again, my junior brain forgot all about what I saw last night.I spent the day running around the park looking for stuff Daisy asked me to find, like odd statues in the woods, or particular signs on the walkways.In the middle of the park. We grabbed our bags and headed to the school. I went to the locker room looking for Kevin when I heard the showers on. I went to ask if they had seen Kevin. I found Kevin on his knees in front of coach Ryler. Coach had his cock in Kevin's mouth moving his head back and forth on it. I went to turn and leave when I saw the girls had followed me. They were watching the show and getting worked up by it. Kara was standing behind Jennifer rubbing her crotch against Jennifer's ass hard. Jennifer was. Then in a demanding voice she told me, “Grandpa, put it in me. Put it in me NOW!” “Oh Sweetness, are you getting excited?” I asked.“OH GRANDPA, PLEASE I’M GOING CRAZY!” she exclaimed, thrashing her body around uncontrollably.“But Baby, it’s too soon. I’m not ready yet. Go ahead and climax; shot your juices all over my face but I’m going to continue this for a while. It’s alright to climax without me,” I tried to explain.Just then I felt her hands on the back of my head pulling my face into.
Read MoreIt is the hole in the stuffed shirt through which the sawdust slowly trickles; it is the dent in the high hat. Democracy is the recurrent suspicion th
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