Martha had already left for work by the time I wandered out to the kitchen to get my first diet soda of the day.There, held on the refrigerator door b... a magnet disguised as a cupcake, was a note reminding me to look at the sink in Martha's room. I took it off, crumpled it and tossed it into the trash. Then I fixed some breakfast, ate and started my day. Maybe it was petty of me to just ignore Martha's request, but it made me feel better.I was actually feeling pretty good as I showered and. I was more mature now, but when I'd been younger, especially like fifteen and sixteen? God! I'd fucked every dog cock I could wrap my horny pussy around.Okay, maybe I had been a slut back then, but thinking back on it, I always got chills. The good kind, you know?It wasn't just the memory of fucking so many strange dogs that excites me, but there's a real sense of fear and relief that I hadn't gotten caught. Sometimes I think it's a miracle. I lived in terror of being found out and my life. Scrawled across the front in spiky handwriting were the words, ‘For Connie’. I hadn’t even opened the letter, and my face was already streaked with tears. Convulsing hands grabbed the envelope and I had to wipe my eyes over and over again to read the most painful letter I’ve ever read. Hey Babyboy, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. I would have woken you up, but you looked so sweet grabbing the blankets—there was a scratched up area, and the pages were still slightly damp. Sorry, Connie, I leaked. The three men arrived at George’s cabin at midafternoon. It was a warm early summer day and the cabin was situated in a secluded and heavily wooded with pine trees. Juan served them drinks, lit their cigars and pipes and on occasion would give a them an oral satisfaction. He lovingly kneeled before one these powerful men, pulled their dick out of their pants and slowly sucked their cock as others would gaze on continuing with their conversations or enjoying their drinks. Juan swallowed every.