..”“How I fucked up my life?” I said. “It’s background that hopefully helps you understand what happened.” She nodded, and I began telling... her the story again.“So, like I said, I grew up obsessed with those pictures. Nobody, not even my granny knew about how they’d affected me. By my late teens, I was so obsessed that...”“So, you Uhm ... pleasured yourself with those pictures... ?” she asked.“Oh God no!” I spat. “But the pictures seemed to be my way out of the hell I’d been born and locked. .. reconnecting.”The University Inn is one of my favorite places. It was Doris’s too. As a fixture in the academic town it exuded an almost womb-like ambience that nurtured members of the academic family. So much of my life had been conducted there that it served as a social club, a kind of second home. As I walked into the colonial styled lobby my heart fluttered as I saw the elegant woman of color sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire. Though twenty two years had gone by since I had. He had stood in the quiet obscurity of the shadows and observed. He had seen her creamy cheeks parted with dirty fingers, the soft pink of her anal opening provocative to the gaze of all. Her secret depths violated by long thick fingers. He had watched as they had licked at her buttocks, some savouring the taste of her juices and the lingering aroma of spent semen that dried upon her flesh.Long tongues that had feasted upon her thighs, piercing into her puckered asshole. He had witnessed the. I kept rubbing it while looking at those sexy bras, suddenly I realised I was outside and I looked around to see if anyone was watching. To my bad luck, there was my neighbour (in his 40s, tall, dark and with a big belly. He always looked a bit scary to me with his big moustaches) staring at me. I look at him, and he smiles wickedly. I was embarrassed so I clipped the clothes on the rope as fast as I could and came inside.I was wondering why I was feeling horny looking at some clothes. I.