But soon she had taken me by the hand and led me under a porch. I felt the warmth of her fingers against my hand, and the smell of desire mingled with...her intoxicating perfume. We looked for a quiet spot under the return of an old staircase. There was a door that she pushed open, revealing a small empty room that was dimly lit by a feeble light bulb. On the walls, there were obscene graffiti.Freeing my hand, I squeezed her wrist, feeling her pulse intensifying in my palm. Her wrist was so thin. Walking into my booth the smell was overpowering, utterly revolting – imagine the nasty, filthiest public toilet, swimming in turds and piss. Heavenly. The look of the place was immaculate, perfect, comfortable without being ostentatious. The screaming exhibit was fixed in place and my-suck-and-fuck* whore was already jiggling her massive tits at me. A comment about this cunt in a minute.(*I came across the sobriquet “fuck-and-suck slut” or “fuck-and-suck whore” etc. in a great and educative. More

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