Now that I knew he was a real ground up man I decided to be a completely uninhibited fuck buddy for him. I recalled:"Go ahead and do whatever you like...with me and I will enjoy it. I want you to fuck me hard like your Dad."Without any hesitation or concerns about whether I could take his full throttle assault he ploughed into me. I was howling, moaning and threshing my arse around. "My good son...fuck your Mom hard. ho...ho..ouh...ouh...shit...shit..."We were both breathing hard and sweating.. A cold finger snaked seductively beneath me, finding the entrance to my soul. Circling around the soft, moist flesh, pressing but not entering, moving up to the sensitive spot between my folds. Pressing, rolling it, rubbing it. Then back, across the tiny opening of my urethra, pausing momentarily to press gently against it. Onwards, finding the way in and entering the hot cavern of my desire, pushing so deep I could feel the movement inside me. A second finger entered alongside the first,. Fogg’s bedchamber, both beating the same second at the same instant. ‘That’s good, that’ll do,’ said Passepartout to himself. He suddenly observed, hung over the clock, a card which, upon inspection, proved to be a programme of the daily routine of the house. It comprised all that was required of the servant, from eight in the morning, exactly at which hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past eleven, when he left the house for the Reform Club—all the details of service, the tea and toast at. Then he saw Justin standing over me, and about to hurt me."FATHER, NO!" He screamed, and ran for Justin, punching him and kicking him and trying to stop him."SHUT UP YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" Justin roared at him while kicking him across the room. I heard a sickening crack, and saw his head at an impossible angle from him hitting the wall. I saw his lifeless eyes.I was lucky my automation took over. Mark's car keys had fallen out of his pocket when he fell and I grabbed them and raced out the door..