The thugs run out of the bank, alarm blaring, carrying sports bags. At least they left the burlap sacks with dollar signs at home."Come on dudes! That...one's not even wearing a mask!" you feel like shouting out. That does it, you feel like dishing out some damage just on principal, after all, running around all half-cocked with shotguns,these lads could hurt themselves you think with a smirk and then leap from the roof edge.You hit the street, the tarmac crumpling from the impact, the suit. I started letting my appearance go, as my grooming was not being maintained. I stopped bathing and often smelled of dry cum. Guys not only came in me, but many like cumming on me. They came on my face, in my hair, and all over my body. One day my Father came in my room and found me lying naked on my bed smelling of dried cum. “Arthur,” he bellowed, “Get out of this house! You fucking faggot, you are no longer my son. Get out now!” I pulled on a tee shirt and jeans and somehow I ended up here on. Keisha blushed bright red but agreed, saying that a quick call to pick up clean underwear and clothes for tomorrow was all she needed. She walked over to Samanthas desk and spun Samantha round in her chair, sliding her hand up her skirt to rub her pussy mound through her knickers. Later demanded Samantha, squeezing Keishas ample breasts. Work to do first.The afternoon passed slowly with both women pinging ideas around and sketching, deciding what worked and what didn’t. Around 3:30 a knock on. Now she’s all over me and me her – I’m still as hard as a rock and she can’t get him inside of her quick enough – I plunge in cock deep and feel her flinch as I hit the back wall to her pussy.I’m in and out of her like a jack hammer and her feet are climbing higher and higher up my back, I reach around her leg and plunge a finger into her arse as she throws herself about below me.I feel us both building to a huge climax only minutes into out fucking, this isn’t love making, this is rutting,.