" You lived in that small parlor?" I asked softly, seeking confirmation of something that I knew was true but couldn't quite believe."I lived there. F...ur or five of us slept in one room. We were only allowed to buy food in the nearby supermarket. There was a room in the back that had an oven, a microwave, a washer. We had to put our clothes outside to dry." When she said that, I nodded; I'd often noticed clothes drying out back. That was the one telltale sign that the women were essentially. Meanwhile, the rest of her mind focused on her pussy, where she felt his monster split her hungry lips with gentle pressure.“That felt amazing,” he leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “But too much more and I would have been ending this party early. We need to take our time and make sure you’re healed up nice… ungh… and proper.” He pushed into her burning sex, as she felt herself heating up with his words and his movements.She wanted to respond, to say something, anything, but the way. “D’you know what I like to do?” she said slowly, letting the satisfaction run through her body. “I like to suck nice big cocks like yours.”Welcome news. Without waiting for me to encourage her, she kneeled down, pushing her hair back behind her ears. She still didn’t break eye contact.Squatting, the sarong dropping between her open legs, she adjusted herself so that her head was now level with my waistline. Willing herself on, she re-took my cock with her right hand, jerking it several times,. Don't get me wrong; the way he made me feel was sensational but I needed a man to be quite literally balls deep in me, making me feel like I couldn't breathe from the pounding I was receiving. At the end of the day, if foreplay ceased to exist, I would survive, just as long as men continued to bend me over, slap my arse repeatedly and fuck me like the world might be ending.So, one night after my beautiful French lover had fallen asleep, I went to see what another boy in another room was doing.