‘Via Faenza’ He said to himself as he walked down the dark and narrow street. ‘Fa-enza… what an exotic name.’ He mused. As he walked on the ...treet angled slightly to the right. The sound of his worn old boots echoing off of the concrete crept into the darkness ahead of him. At times the concrete street would give way to packed earth or cobblestones, and his echoing footfalls would turn into faint clicks as he walked briskly along. The cobblestones reflected dully in the full moonlight, and the. I started up the truck and backed down our driveway and we were off. As I drove I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she fidgeted with getting her face and hair more presentable for school. I reached across the seat and pulled up her skirt. Jenny was too busy to stop me and almost pretended not to notice me. Her skirt rolled up and I looked at the little thong-covered pouch that was her pussy. The white cotton fabric was moist and I got a waif of her pussy juices. The little nympho had. “I was raised by my mother, because my father decided he liked eighteen year old tramps more than us.” Her smile turned into a frown when she mentioned her parents’ breakup.“I was five when he didn’t come home from work one day. My mother tried calling his cell phone but it was turned off. The next day she was served with divorce papers.“It wasn’t pretty,” she sighed, thinking about her parents and the divorce. I gave her time and waited patiently.“My father was – is – just a bit of mist, or a. When my next pit service got underway he was literally grunting with satisfaction.“Jesus, Jimmy,” he said, “you have no idea how you are turning me on.”When I had finished my entire pit service, Ross pushed me to my knees. “Are you still hungry, Jimmy?” he asked.“Yes,” I replied.Sustaining our level of excitement Ross grabbed hold of my head and began face-fucking me. This session was far more intense than before and his grip on my head was much tighter. The pleasure I had given him seemed to.
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