She leaned against me and I slowly started running my hands on her back and shoulders. She stopped crying but stayed close to me. I sat on the bed and...pulled her down on my lap.She started telling me that her husband Bapu gets drunk every night and fights with her. I realized that he’s not fucking her, so I took my chance. I slowly brought my hand to her stomach, under her saree. Then I slowly started running my hands up to her boobs.She became stiff but didn’t say anything. Her boobs were firm. . please ... oh that's it. Yes, yes fuck it, fuck it!"I was imploring them by this stage, my wet hole an oozing cavern by this point. I was spread, splayed and now rammed with four fingers.Four fingers belonging to my own sons best friends.I had seen these lads grow up from the ages of 8, had attended birthday parties, Christmas events, even visited Connor when he was in hospital once.I had shared drinks with their parents and grandparents.Now I was standing, leaning against a wall like a cheap. More

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