Sticking out of that crumpled old oilskin raincoat was the barrel of some sort of shotgun with a bore that looked like it could take down an elephant ...r two if need be. Further up the raincoat was a hood that covered the little old wizened head of Mrs Clusky from next door. The face of old Mrs Clusky peered out of that hood with a silent, grim determination and eyes that had a fierceness to them that could have come from the very pit of hell itself.Mrs Clusky didn’t speak again but just waved. More, I wanted more fingers in me. My bucking hips encouraged him, harder and deeper into my dripping hole.“I love your mouth on my cock. I can feel how much you love sucking it.” He was right. I would never have expected that that could happen, that I could crave a cock, but I craved his. I fantasised about it, about sucking him, about him fucking my mouth as I lay under him, about playing with his textured, heavy balls, about his cock sinking into me. He leant over to whisper in my ear again.. More

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