That is until one cold night I spent the night in a Sally-Ann hostel. That night the guy in the bed next to me died in his sleep, or should I say his ...drunken stupor. You know it was while I was stealing his half-empty bottle that it struck me just how low I’d sunk. Christ, I was steeling booze from a dead man! ‘This bottle of booze!’ The guy pulled an almost empty half bottle of whiskey from his pocket. ‘I carry it with me all the time to remind how low I’d sunk. I’ve never touched another drop. " Thank you grampa," was all I could manage.His tongue explored my pussy, flicking across my tiny clit, bringinglittle jolts of pleasure to my body. I felt his teeth gently nibblingat my clit and I went wild with desire, throwing my legs up aroundhis head."Lick me all over grampa, lick me all over." I begged.He didn't need any encouragement, his tongue was everywhere. Burrowinginto my pussy, trying to slip inside my ass hole. he gathered somemoisture from my ravaged pussy on his little finger. His fingers began sliding along her soaked slit, one even going so far as to tickle her clit while two others slid into her cunt. She blinked as she finally took a breath. She gasped as her arousal swirled higher. Her hands, free to finally act, quickly made for his manhood and the bulge hidden from view.YES! Hemanth gave himself credit for being right for a change. Mala was a horny old woman who wouldn’t mind fucking a student! He pulled her -shirt off, plastering his mouth against one stiff. He hummed; and she — gownedand bejeweled, or naked and demeaned — danced. Would taking this risk bring back the old loving Lyle? Was his promise worthanything? Would he really change? Winning the draw might or might not resultin recapturing Lyle's wholehearted affections, whereas losing was a definiteend to everything. There would be no going back. Death is permanent. More than that, if she lost, hers would be no ordinary death. She had alreadywitnessed what they did to three young women on.