I asked anyone if they wanted a cigarette, my gf said yes and so did he. We all went for a fag and sat down in the outside area. My gf got a call so ...ecided to take it and walked away from us. He asked me if I was single, I told him I was very recently separated. He asked me if I was looking for a rebound, I looked at him and said yes and asked him if he was looking for a girl on the rebound and he said if it was me he wouldn't say no.He told me that a few of them were gona go back to his. “My mother Bertha adores him, but he’s a real stuck up pain in the tush,” she whispered in my ear as her tongue traced it, sending shivers down my body. “I sometimes wonder if he’s queer, because he won’t do this with me,” she purred, squeezing my swollen dick.Her tiny tits were just mounds of flesh, but what mounds! I gently rubbed my palms over them, and she sighed and thrust them against me! I was expecting a slap of disapproval, but it seemed she was enjoying my groping as her hand stroked. His mind’s eye recalled her body and, with difficulty, her face. He recalled the small brown moles on her right shoulder and the downy skin of her flattish stomach. Her smell would always be with him he thought and the way her body reacted to his touch was indelibly etched into his memory, but better yet was the memory of how she would come in a gushing torrent, screaming the place down while her sex ejaculated it’s golden stream.They first met when he had been taking an enforced break. Two. He might not even realize that he had sex at all. But I would know, and I always made sure that they orgasmed and I always rubbed their spunk all over my tits and lick it from my fingers.Self loathing that may be, but it gets me through the coming 12 months until I pluck up the courage to choose another homeless man for my pleasure.This little scenario has gone on year after year and I knew that it would never change. Then last year I had the surprise of my life. One, I might add, was of my own.