Dear God, please help me, cruel and tempted sinner that I am...I heard a muffled whisper from the the side of the chair."You waaant me; you waaant to ...uuuck me..."The rest of that evening passed in terrible discomfort, and I consigned the bag to the spare room, and told the thingy to shut the fuck up, or it would never see the light of day again."Once you get me in your pussy, you won't want me to see the light of day..."I left it alone with its thoughts.Eventually, when my mind began to get. He made me feel like I was on fire. I wanted to feel it at all times. I never wanted to have to cool down, but I knew I needed to at times. I decided that I could not wait another minute. I needed to tell him what I had found out. He wasn’t giving me the best opportunities though. Before I knew it, he had laid me back onto the bed and was kissing down my neck. Before we went any further I needed to tell him. I did not know how any of this worked, what if what we were doing was going to hurt me.. We often exchanged our undies. She would take mine home and I would borrow her panty which I wore for a few days, masturbated in it and then returned it to her. But she was primarily a sari woman and she knew it; she knew how to drape herself in that 5-yard piece of cloth and make her man excited. She never looked exciting clad in a two-piece panty and brassiere because she did not have that tall and slender figure to carry off a bikini; though if one looked at her breasts or bum in isolation,. I hadn't seen him for a while. I was glad to have to company, so we did some drugs, talked about the parties, and had a laugh. I sucked his cock in gratitude, and for old times' sake. Afterwards he offered me a hit of morphine. A while later, he offered me another..."Margaret ... I need you, please." My voice was wobbling all over the place, tears running down my face.Somewhere deep inside, the thought of Margaret had made a small spark of my near extinct survival instinct flare, some inner.