I hate Thanksgiving so much that fucking the brains out of some strange grubby homeless guy just seems right to me. My psychologist says that I have a..."self-loathing" issue and that may be so, but I don't really care what he says. It fills a deep down need in me. I only have sex once a year, on Thanksgiving Day, and always with some drunken smelly guy who probably won't even remember who he had sex with by morning. He might not even realize that he had sex at all. But I would know, and I always. She had wonderful luscious boobs, full of flesh.Her nipples so supple, so sexy, so delicious, they shone in the daylight, like bright stars. I was getting very excited and restless. I guess she hadn’t shaved her bikini line for a few weeks. The small sharp hairs from her pussy pricking out of her thin panties.The thin lining of hairs clearly visible at the top edge and along her V area. Her hairs were sticking out from her panties. She kissed me back with much more passion and hunger. We were. More

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