I do not know where I was born; because I only know, I was a street dweller. There were some foster families in between but fucking my cock was such a...rowdy piece of shit from the get go and it messed up somehow every time until I was back on the street again. Anyways; life goes on. I cannot blame anyone else; if I do not take the blame myself first of all, but I could never forget Martin [Marty]. I have yet to meet a cock slut to put before Marty. The days of peek ripe age in high school;. It took some time but I finally convinced her to go to a different place, one away from the hotel. We found a small café a number of blocks away and our meetings became a friendly dinner instead of sipping coffee and fighting off tears. The conversations turned to be more about the two of us, instead of the two of them (her husband and whatever woman he walked into the motel with). Or relationship developed from strangers in a diner, to good friends getting together, to close friends discussing. Having freed Mark from the restrictions of not being in charge of the rate of fucking his boy pussy was receiving he was now bouncing his full weight on to the black cock pistoning in to his boy pussy.Suddenly the young boy groaned loudly and Mark stopped dead still whilst his arse was filled with black man's seed. Then she ordered him off and made him clean up the young boys cock, but not until she had placed a butt plug up Mark's arse to keep the cock seed deep inside his anal chute. She led. As my practice became more successful I opened a second location on the North Shore. Rather that sit in the awful traffic through downtown and over Lions Gate Bridge I would jump on a bus and SkyTrain to Waterfront Station then get the ferry over to Lonsdale Quay before making the 10 minute walk to my practice. As I walked out of Waterfront Station on a cold, wet November morning I spotted a homeless person panhandling. I did as always did, moved further away and pretended not to notice them.