I was playing with her boobs and then I engaged in French kiss with her at least 3 minutes. My tongue was exploring her mouth. I was squeezing her boo... over her Kameez and her nipple become hard. My hand moved to her tummy and was pressing her navel. Then I moved my hand to he pussy, she resist for long but my hand reached there and now she spread her legs to give way to my hand and I put my hand on her pussy. It was really too little. I was now rubbing her pussy by my one hand and my other. But, as I said, I was stubborn. I could tell myself and my demon to fuck off as many times as needed. I think the only thing that made me even the slightest bit successful with the demon was that he and I both knew I would be returning to the bottle eventually. I had accepted that fact. Embraced it, you might say.Yeah, I was fucked up. I accepted that, too.But as it turns out, I didn’t know what fucked up truly was. Candy…she was about to fuck me raw.And not in the good way.CHAPTER 8What the. Accept it as a part of life, a balance for all the joy he'd given her.She recalled one of his stories. Dad's Grandpa, her Great Grandpa Hunt, had died suddenly when he was in 4th grade. He had told the tale as part of his story to her, as she started her own spiritual quest, of why he wasn't religious. Dad's 4th grade Sunday School teacher had been somewhat evangelical, especially for a moderate Presbyterian church, and she had gotten him to pray for the Holy Spirit late one night in bed. Ten. "I look forward to it every day," she said. She began to rub herself, the motion pushing the front of her white panties out away from her body with each stroke. I couldn't see her pussy, but I really wanted to. "I like to play with myself on the outside mostly," she said. She continued to rub and let her head fall back, eyes closing as her breath became uneven. I wanted to try it too, but felt like masturbating was this thing I wasn't supposed to. It was so exciting watching her do it though..