I mean, no one cares about me! My family obviously doesn’t. My friends don’t, they just want to look pretty and get boys. None of my boyfriends ha...e even cared about me. They just want to kiss me, feel my tits, and put it in me. Do you know, I can’t remember being hugged? Ever. Not from my family, not from my friends, not from my boyfriends. I don’t know if anyone has ever just hugged me because they loved me! I really–”I don’t know what came over me. I felt for this girl and I just couldn’t. . Obey.’ Her whore-lover came hard, pelvis jerking violently on Julia’s upraised leg, thighs clenching. Julia needed more. She needed her own cum and she knew just how she wanted to get it. Julia stepped back and fumbled with her leather belt, unsnapping her jeans. Her pussy sang hosannas in anticipation. ‘Yeah. Obey me,’ said Julia. Julia’s whore lay against the boot of the car, sprawling invitingly back against the gently sloping rear window. Big, soft breasts rose and fell as the shameless. " Tracy explained. "And black men are much more virile and masculine anyway. Feel this musculature! It is perfect, just what I had in mind, come here Carol..." She took the blonde's left hand on hers and guided it to the man's abdomen, Carol had to move a little side ways to reach him and she ended up even closer to two of the guys in front of her, their masculine aroma filling her nostrils. "... isn't he a perfect male specimen?"Carol felt her hand touch the black skin and a jolt of pure. Bull-hockey. And what's this craved morphine bull-hockey, I thought you were never addicted to morphine?"I realize that one of my deep, dark secrets is out in the open so I confess, "Guys, I hate to tell you this, but I got addicted to morphine when I was a teenager. I had some pretty severe burns and my nurse provided it to me based on the doctor's orders. And ... well, the rest of the story would be how I kicked the habit. But even now, after not having it since my injuries in Germany, I.