Now he was going to get a beating from a guy he had helped. He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the blow. He was no good with fists. Maybe after a...punch or two, the guy was going to give up and just storm out of his small apartment, and that was going to be it.When he felt something moist and hot against his lips, his eyes shot open. His eyes at half mast, Max was kissing him. Sean pushed him back, completely flabbergasted. His knees were shaking and butterflies were running wild in his. Few do. She usually goes bra-less. She always dresses provocatively. Her wardrobe is full of clothing made to reveal instead of conceal. She calls it the 'slut look'.When she's doing her 'Ho' thing she wears some clear plastic 5 inch spike heels, which she calls her 'fuck me' shoes. Thigh highs and a medium or full length coat complete her outfit. She stands under a streetlight and when a car passes she simply opens her coat and displays her wares.She especially watches for cars with more than. Finally her hair was always perfect, no demure bob or modest perm for our Pamela; she wore her hair big, high and sassy. 'Mutton dressed as lamb, ' her Mom would have called her; but that was Pamela's look. Her regular punters loved it.Pamela had been a prostitute all her working life. She had held the odd regular job here and there, but always came back to the game. From the moment she had turned fifteen when she noticed the boys furtive glances at her breasts and her uncle Bill's awkward but. His wondrous cock was still semi-firm and I eagerly took it into my mouth. I had wanted to suck on it for so long. I loved it and loved it, not being able to get enough. Soon, he emptied his ball bag of warm jism, giving me the exquisite nourishment I so craved. Meanwhile, my fanny was sliding and rotating, his lips, mouth and nose buried deep inside me, allowing me to cum and cum. I released my gush as he nourished himself, both moaning our pleasure over and over. That evening, we prepared a.