I was starting to feel very horny watching him pumping his strong arms and legs,just then another guy came in and walked straight over to him,Jane lea...ed over and whispered "that's the guy from the other night".He looked over and smiled then came over to us ,he said hi Jane i'm having a small get together tonight would you like to come ,you can bring your friend ,knowing that i had my eye on him she said is he coming ,pointing to my guy,yes he said ,be round mine for eightWe decided not dress. Iactually heard Uncle Zafar's cock pop audibly out of Dad's ass, as Dadmurmured, "I love you."Matin and I had still a perfect view as Dad turned around and hugged UncleZafar, bodies grinding together. Uncle Zafar and Dad locked their lipstogether and held each other as they made out passionately. They kissed sobeautifully, moaning and feeling each other all over. Dad tilted his headback a little, reached behind him and took a paper towel or something froma packet to clean up Uncle Zafar's still. It was about seven o'clock and I was making my third check of the evening, checking doors, the way you see night watchmen doing it in the movies, when I twisted one door knob and the door opened. It hadn't the last time I'd been by so I opened the door and stepped into the office. On the desk, legs kicking in the air, dress up around her waist and being fucked by the regional sales manager of an electronics firm was Pam. The salesman for a plastics company had his cock in her mouth, and the. Support. Their strength. Never them. Never the Protagonist. When the girl is in danger; when she gets hurt; why do we cry for the guy? When he’s sad because of her, why do we feel for him? Why not for her? Why do I weep when the guy gets hurt; regardless of whether the female is sad, regardless of whether she even knows about it? Maybe it’s just me though. Maybe, it’s just the stories I read. Maybe that’s why I think they’re good in the first place. But I’m a girl. I want what the guys have. I.