Me and my mother both went into a trauma and agony. Our relatives turned there back on us. No one helped us. As my father worked in a govt. the compan... I was offered a job in the same company with less position due to my low qualification. We lived in our own two storied independent house. My dad built it so in future I could stay in the same house after my marriage. I decided to rent one portion to cover the balance income to survive.One day a middle-aged guy around 50-55 yrs. old came to me. It was the final straw for him; he left us for good after that, and we never saw him again.Mom got a job doing laundry and we moved out of the house we'd been living in and shacked up in a cheap motel for a long period.We kids were going to school at this time, and riding the bus to get there. For me it was good. We riders became a thing and formed a quasi-gang. We called ourselves the Narods—don't ask me why. We weren't into drugs or anything, but we were rough cut and tended to consume ship. As his cock penetrated to her depths she dropped back and arched her back "Ooooooooh" she cried, unable to resist. Then as he bucked she breathed in audibly. Then as the little pony held his cock deep inside her, she let her breath go in a long drawn out wail, contrived of northing more than pure licentious pleasure. It was an animal sound, bestial, immoral, that of a rutting lustful beast. The lurid moan was repeated over and over as Ronnie continued to thrust and hold, thrust and hold.. It was hot day as she drove her Jeep down the dusty road. She had been ordered to attend a ten day training exercise but as yet she was still in the dark at what it was all about. She pulled up and looked around her to see a collection of run down shacks and other buildings."Can I help you soldier?" said an old voice."Yes Sir," she replied, "I'm looking for Camp Delta." Well it looks like you've found it," the old man chuckled.On the rickety pouch the old man stood up and she could see he was.