I remember one night I was particularly horny and he had gone to bed and I just had to have some ME time in his personal ride. It was probably pretty ...kinky of me (we all have our particular takes on our fetishes and what gets us off) - I got dressed in his clothes – the wrinkled, sweaty shirt he wore that day to work, his favourite pit-stained smelling tweed sport coat and crusty, crotch cum-stained, coarse-grained wool dress trousers. Commando. I just had to feel where his hot male balls had. I could feel him press against me his cock bulging in his trousers. I reached back and spread one of my ass cheeks. I could feel his face slowly dropping down my back as he went to lick my dirty fuck hole. His tongue was light and not abusive. I could feel it worshipping my hole, licking it clean. I grunted as the pleasure had swelled so greatly within me. As his tongue worked a bit further inside I began to spurt furious ropes from my cock. I turned around and pulled this stranger up to his. Mary had kept her promise to herself by visiting me every day, introducing herself as somebody that had met me while I was in my coma. I understood her guilt that was the basis for her visiting, and decided to let her tell me about how she really met me on her own terms. Meanwhile doctors and nurses poked, prodded, ran tests, and help me undergo my rather intense (for me, anyway!) exercise regimen.I was no longer on active duty, my "tour" having long been up. I felt a bit of a loss, since I had. We looked inside the car one last time mainly to make sure the cum spots were still on the headliner and seat. She gave them the keys and, before driving off, her dad asked when she was in the house last. She said Wednesday evening when she moved. He said someone had been in there Thursday and soiled the carpet in a couple of rooms after they had been cleaned. Jen asked “why were they cleaned ahead of closing?” They said nothing to that and just shrugged and each got into a car. As they were.