Sunday night and I’m bored out of my brains. The few friends I have are always too damn busy to pay much attention to me, but then again I guess I d...n’t really mind – I’ve always been a quiet sort of person who doesn’t socialise much and is quite happy to stay home and do my own thing. I guess this was my comfort zone. The only place where I could really be myself and relax. Going to pubs, nightclubs and wild parties was not really my thing, even though I would go every now and then. Also, I’m. He wanted me to fuck him harder, I went on for as long as I could until my balls finally exploded. I shot that much cum in there that some squirted back out, I final withdrew my cock and spread his arse cheeks apart and watch the spunk dribble out. I grabbed the towel and cleaned the spunk of his arse and cleaned all the spunk and lube of his cock a bollocks.Graham flipped over onto his back and I fell into his arms, he hugged me really tight smiled then kissed me, that fucking first thrust put. Some obscure B-movie was flickering on the TV screen. "Melissa?" I asked. She jumped at my voice, bolting upright. Some beer splashed onto the couch."Oh, you scared me." she whispered, putting a hand to her heart. "I couldn't sleep. Guess this body wasn't that tired after all. Hope you don't mind." Nah." I waved her off. "My place is your place." I smiled. "Literally." Hey, yeah!" she laughed. "This is my house now, huh?" Yours and Becky's." I replied. Deciding the den could wait, I. When I looked a bit closer I realized that the "c***d" was a female and that she was, in fact, not a c***d. It was difficult to tell because of the parka and her hood, but she was probably in her early 20’s and about five feet tall. She held a cardboard sign that read "Canada" in large block letters and wore a backpack that was almost as large as she was.I said bonjour in return, and then asked her in English where she was from. She switched over to English and said, "Cote-des-Neiges”, which is.