* The woman that called herself Janice huddled in the dark shadows of the arches with her friends, all of them homeless. Her body ached, her arm encas...d in the plaster cast was making getting comfortable on the hard cardboard pallet more difficult, and the cold was biting at her nose and ears. How she hated how her life had spiralled out of control over the past four months. She missed her old life, and missed her old digs with the pretty old fashioned flower duvet on the bed and the hot water. Grabbing and pawing his way all over my sex, I can feel his fingertips on my labia, then the bottom of my ass, then my mound. The tug on my hair makes my mouth come open a little, and I squat slightly to meet his rough touch. He begins to press harder as he rubs, picking up a boiling, slimy bit of pussy juice and spreading over the surface of my swelling lips. Oh fuck, his hand is so big – feels so good – keep rubbing me there. I put my hand on the mirror to support myself against the. More

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