The small handful of women he'd come across after his enforced exile had been no different. They'd just seemed to gravitate to him, offering themselve... up like sacrificial lambs.He thought about those girls from his school days — Mavis Connelly, Georgia Perkins, Cheryl Ellege, and a drove of others whose names he couldn't even remember. Some he'd deflowered, others already had some experience. When he'd finished with them he'd just shrugged them off like yesterday's dirty laundry. He'd broken. Hearing that word i lost all my control, my penis was getting ready. I turned her towards me, pulled her close with one arm and other arm squeezing and pressing her breast i started to have French kiss with her. I was kissing her so deep that and for long that her saliva started to flow along her chin to her cleavage I licked all those saliva into my mouth especially from her mole on chin. I slowly pulled her sari to make the cleavage visible, pulling her blouse down I kissed her cleavage. She. She tumbled down with muffled grunt, and hit her head on the floor, luckily decreased by her quick reaction time making her hands cushion the blow. But it still knocked her unconscious.George immediately knelt next to her and turned her over. There looked like there would be a bruise and probably a bump on her forehead. He had seen her fall broken by her hands- not well, but he was pretty sure she didn't suffer any kind of serious concussion. He shook her and she moaned- a good sign.He thought. “Oh my gawd! Holly shit ohhh!” I swirled him about ten or fifteen times and backed away. “I have a hair stuck in my throat, don’t move, I need some lube too.” He looked concerned. “Relax,” I said, “It’s for me, not you.” I stood straight, like a well-practiced and cultured slut. I pivoted and walked to the bathroom. I coughed, to cover the sound of unzipping my little camera bag. “I got it!” I called to him. I retrieved my lube and another item. I hid it in back, under my cincher. I.