It was Wendy, my older s****r Sue’s friend. She came running over the road and greeted me like a long lost friend . . . Wendy was about 18, slightly...plump, glasses, nice although not particularly attractive but from what I had overheard from my s****rs conversations for some reason was very popular with all the boys at school. ‘So what you doing round here on a Sunday morning?’ she asked. I explained about the party and that I was on my way home. ‘Lots of girls there then?, bet you had some fun. The towel was like an apron covering her from the front but bare naked from the back. The knot I tied was loose and the towel fell again. I picked it up and repeated the same again by tying a knot tightly this time.My dick touched her thighs many times. She pushed me back with one hand while she was closely listening to sounds outside to see if my mom had gone or not. I was in a dilemma whether or not to just slide my cock inside her naked and wet dripping pussy.I could not control my self and. Like, at all. All that she had waiting for her in her crampedlittle SRO was the few boxes of piecework that needed to be finished.The piecework was boring, repetitive, back breaking and it paid apittance for hours of hand-cramping work. But it was the only work thatshe could find. When she came out, everyone that she knew in her old lineof work had quietly refused to acknowledge that she existed. Just likeher family. And without those contacts, passing -or not passing- as shedid, the drudgery. " She, too, spoke in Mandarin, but the name was Uighur. It was just a hunch. "I speak for the OSG. I will be your contact from now on. What is your name?"You are a woman. I will not deal with you. Put your guardian on the com." Don't be silly. Do you think that would change anything? You're part of the same world I am and I've been put in charge of these talks. I am the one you will deal with; there is no choice. What is your name?" My name does not matter. You must agree to our terms. If you.