But I would know, and I always made sure that they orgasmed and I always rubbed their spunk all over my tits and lick it from my fingers.Self loathing...that may be, but it gets me through the coming 12 months until I pluck up the courage to choose another homeless man for my pleasure.This little scenario has gone on year after year and I knew that it would never change. Then last year I had the surprise of my life. One, I might add, was of my own making.I was 41 then and I had to admit that this. He pushes one finger in, and I moan. He pushes another in, and grind ferociously forward in thanks. He puts the last one in, and then curls all three fingers, gripping me from the inside. My head flings upward to the ceiling, and I let out a hoarse scream. His finger push against his cock from the other side of me, sending a delicious torrent of spasms rocketing into my depths. “Oh, fuck!” I cry, and the passionate motions of my hips change. I’m done making love; I want to fuck. JOHN Something. More

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