“I’m gonna fuck the shit outta your pretty ass!” “Yay, Daddy,” Prentiss beamed. “When’s the last time you got fucked,” the Jamaican qu...zzed. “Three days ago.” “Who fucked you?” “A guy that works at the grocery store with me.” “How old is he?” “Twenty-four.” “So you like grown dick. Is he hung like me?” “Not quite as big as yours, Renald.” “Bend over!” Renald grabbed a container of Vaseline from the nightstand. He stuck his dick into it and then walked up behind Prentiss. He pushed his meat. The interview was set for This upcoming Friday, giving me three days to polish up my resume and find suitable office work attire. Finding other that fit me properly has always been a pain in the ass. I'm not very tall standing at only 5’6 on a good day, but I was very muscular. There just aren’t many shirts off the rack that fit around my large chest and arms, while simultaneously not looking like a dress. I passed the next couple of days by taking tours around my new neighborhood, one of. Most women tiptoe around it. They try to be subtle, cool, but for some reason the anxiety, the stimulation, always shows. I guess I'm Temptation, in the flesh. It's rare that I get an ear beating, though not unheard of. But it's very hard to get me angry. When you spend your working hours with beautiful naked women, rarely missing a day without fucking at least one of them, you are very placid. The only trouble is, I have this tendency to undress them mentally. And they all know I'm doing it.. For some reason, the idea of sex has always been a borderlining obsession to me .I was introduced to Deepti about a year back via the “nearby” feature on WeChat Messanger. To my surprise she was the one to get in touch with me, stating we had crossed paths few hours back the same day. It wasn’t long before I knew I had struck gold, from there on, after couple of days of chatting we went onto exchange numbers. Deepti told me that she was a married. I learnt that she was a 36 year old housewife.