Finally he spent all his waking hours in the bar drinking. We soon lost the house, but the bar owner took pity on us and made a small shack by the rai... yards part of his pay. My Mother and Dad fought all the time they were together. My Mother wasn't there one day when I returned. I never saw her or heard from her again.My Dad was useless to me. He was either drunk or sleeping off a drunk. I raised myself. I washed my clothes, cooked our food, and cleaned our house. My Dad contributed nothing. “That’s her name, alright.” “She’s cool, Paul; send her up.” “Oh, Ok Sam. You have a good one.” I hung up the phone, then hit the intercom button to buzz Rashid, my producer. He’s this short Indian guy who spends most of his time at work talking on his cell phone during my show to his family back in India. Occasionally, I bug him with stuff, but he let’s me do pretty much whatever I want, and doesn’t tell the station manager when I screw up. I guess it’s not too bad to have him as my. They should have only been able to throw the grenades about thirty to forty meters and hell we were back close to a hundred meters and we were still too close. But the grenades were falling all over the fucking place. Oh they would get lucky once and awhile and blow up some fucking terrorist, but most of the time they just blew the hell out of everything but the terrorists. I looked over at the grandmother and she was kicking ass ... Ah, I figured out she was keeping the Chechen bastards from. Within 5 minutes the perspiration on his forehead is dripping a bit. He is close, he needs only one nudge. I feel a pretty strong climax coming and his nudge was me whispering "Give it to me". Osei takes a couple hard short strokes and a second after his grunting starts I feel his cock starting to spasm as he deposits his normally huge load. I lovingly accept every spurt. Which launched me into climax joining him in his. This was fabulous sex. Don't move, I tell him. I want him to.