Thangaiku Theriyaamal Amma Magalai Oothen
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Helen stretched herself, the light hurting her eyes, her head thumping, overhung!
Her red hair in the shaft of sunlight from the bedroom window shone like gold as she glanced at the alarm clock ticking its way towards ten…ten ...shit…it can`t have gone off… she poked hubby Dave in the ribs “you great useless waste of space, you forgot to set the alarm!” she shouted leaping out of the big old bed.
Dave grinned, watching her silently as she grabbed underclothes from the chest of drawers… she was a picture naked silhouetted against that harsh sunlight, Pert breasts, not overly huge, but handleable, tall shapely body, nice bum! It was a picture the big man never tired of, his own wife naked! He waited watching her, holding her head with one hand and selecting a bra with the other, her face a flush of panic, then he asked what the problem was, grinning at her, she cursed him, “Problem , problem,” she almost screamed “it`s 10am and I`ve overslept, and as head of my department I should have set an example…”she had always been a high flyer, prone occasionally to drink a bit, free with her favours and oversexed its true, but that’s what he loved about her.
She set off for the bathroom knickers and bra in hand when he dropped the bombshell, “Erm, you do know its Saturday…!”
Mid stride she turned and with her red-haired temper threw the underclothes at him hitting him full in the face and cursing him roundly.
He sc****d the black webbing from his jaw, and began laughing which diffused the moment somewhat, she sitting back on the bed as if she was a toy and her battery had flattened, her head beat like a drum solo, and she slumped on the pillows a spent force.
She suddenly remembered last night, her boss, plying her with drink, desperately trying to overcome her inhibitions and get her away on her own, to bed her, silly pillock, he only had to ask, and she would have been putty in his hands, anything to have gained that next promotion! And of-course it would have saved this woolly head this morning!
As it was dave had had to fetch her home afterwards, turning out to the hotel the “seminar” was at, to fetch her as only a doting husband would in the small hours.
As usual he had not been along, he never went to these snooty affairs it was not his thing.
They had been married 18 years this year, they rubbed along well, lived in a fairly nice detached home on the edge of a small town, had a nice car, and she a good job, but there the idyllic lifestyle ends. They had a son 17 years back he was born, he`s at a good school now, and he has Dave`s build, and Helens colouring. a much-loved rugby playing son to be proud of! However, the birth had been traumatic, he was a huge baby and it had left her unable to have more k**dies, which at the time seemed devastating.
However, Dave proved to be a voyeur, a cuckold, call it what you like, he just loved to see his wife fucked and fucked well, and he worried not who by. So, this barren arrangement strangely proved to suit them both well in the long run!
Helen soon proved herself to be a nymphomaniac she loved sex in any form! But in her case it went further, it was a case of opposites, she had a high-flying job it was true, and she was happy to use her not inconsiderable sexual talent`s to further her career, that was a fact but, what her piers didn’t know was that come the weekend she was a total whore nowadays, using her body to cater for the baser areas of life, working men, perverts, cash paying men and the seedier end of the market. Though of course in her case the motivation was not cash, it was just to be degraded, used and in the most basic of ways, it was her joy for some strange reason to share her body like some common prostitute!
Dave however got his kicks from pandering to her whim`s, he got her ready, he dressed her, drove her to the area she thought of as hers, watched out for her, made sure no harm befell her and generally enjoyed her debasement with her, before fetching her home and loving her. it was a perfect arrangement.
Tonight, would be as normal nowadays every Friday and Saturday night, last night had been exceptional, due to that wretched seminar, though she still got screwed and for a change in the general manager`s hotel bed, rather than against the wall in the truckyard, or under the canal arch she usually ended up under on a wet Friday night! The tryst with her manager could not have done her prospects any harm, but she was not keen on the hangover she now had.
They dozed till dinnertime, when she had to get up to piss, though she felt a lot better, Dave made tea, he had been up since the alarm clock debacle, and had left her to sleep knowing her situation. They lay on the bed together, sipping tea and letting her wake-up properly.
He asked what her plan was for tonight, which really meant which area would they be targeting, as knowing his wayward wife it was a definite fact she would be out being screwed somewhere. Her answer that “she was going to do something different” threw him a little, he sat up and looked at her smiling face as she said that “the salvation army had been collecting in her office on Wednesday, and like all do-good setups they had left leaflets about the homeless, it had got her thinking, those poor folks out their on the streets, financially hard-up, living rough, hungry and in need, they need some sexual comfort`s too!
Looking on it as her mission to the poor, she told Dave her plan!
She had decided on the trinity park industrial estate, there was a piece of shrublands at the far end with a few tents between the gorse, alongside the canal, homeless folks who lived out of the bins behind the bakery, and scrounged milk, butter and cheese from the dairy in exchange for cleaning work.
Dave began after the afternoon meal, taking her to the bathroom, bathing her and perfuming her lithe body then dressing her in a lovely lacy bright red platform bra, a matching suspender belt, stockings which he smoothed in place sensuously, clipping the suspenders expertly in place and combing her pubic hair neatly. She staunchly refused the panties saying it was symbolic, and practical…! Now came the slutty bit, a tight white top, and a red skirt that clung to her arse tightly matched with high-heeled black leather boots that almost her knees and were laced up the side all the way from ankle to knee, she sat while he did her make-up, full red lips, and eye shadow her hair combed over her shoulders. Donning a black leather jacket, she looked both slutty and fantastic in one! She slipped a ½ bottle of cheap scotch into her pocket, checked herself in the mirror for the slutty effect, then told him he had done well, a compliment that caused him to beam.
They set out, Dave as usual driving the 20 minutes through the light late evening traffic, till they parked in the road on the bridge, beside the canal warfe warehouse from where Dave would have a view over the gorse covered scrubland and the little camp of homeless souls. Normally she would just stand under the light on the corner beside the pub, the bell and butcher, on their usual spot near St Dunstan`s, and work like any whore, on passing trade, but tonight would need a different approach. Dave watched his precious wife descend the steps to the canal-side, he was already erect!
The sun was setting, the world bathed in that strange flush of that `soon to be dark’ twilight of a warm June evening, her heels clattering on the stone steps, worn smooth over the last 150 years by countless feet.
Boldly she wandered through the patchy gorse, here and there small tents, some real but cheap tents, some just plastic sheets, some cardboard or corrugated iron, from at least one, a pair of enquiring and suspicious eyes followed her progress.
Central to the camp alongside the railings of the dairy was an old oil drum, flames issuing from the top and a number of scruffy men, were sitting round it, passing round a shared bottle of some sort of spirit.
Boldly she approached the fire and said, “hi boys!” Eyes swivelled in her direction, and one, an old and tatty body, wrapped in a mack and a battered trilby, eyed her up and down then said, “youm welcome gal, youm a site for old eyes, but we ait got the money to pay for the likes of you!” she grinned, and reassuringly said “her name was Helen, and she hadn’t come to make money, just too make their lives a bit more fun!” a ripple of muted chuckles of surprise ran around the old lads, eyes brightened, minds ran riot.
”I`m Pat,” the old boy sat nearest said, he nodded at the rest in turn, “that`s Charlie, Sid, John, Andy and the thin one is Mickey, they all chuckled at that, Mickey being short and so fat he reminded her of a picture on her c***dhood nursery wall of Billy Bunter. Each in turn, either nodded or waved a filthy paw at her, acknowledging her, appraising her dress, and their chances, their eyes shining bright in the light reflected from the crackling fire.
Pat seemed to be the spokesman, “Most of us couldn’t get stiff enough to do your sort much good anyway my gal`, we don’t have the energy, it`s our diet an` our age`s, see!” he looked genuinely sorry eyeing her in a way that said he wished he was younger, much younger. She knew tact was not the way to go so asked “How long since you had some form of sex then Pat?” It was bold and direct, he pondered the question, gazing into the flames in a sad sort of way, then slowly said, “just afore the wife passed, must be a good four years I spose, life`s a bastard!” she looked at each of them, each in turn grunted or nodded, agreeing life was indeed a bastard! Sid, laughed that “he had had the wife the night before she chucked him out, as she thought he was having yet another affair!” which caused a smile, Andy, said that “he and John had had old Moisey when she passed through the camp last year, Mickey saying he too had had Moisey, at which they looked surprised, then all the eyes fell on the last man, Charlie, who saying he was a virgin, blushed red faced, like a filthy version of a baboon arse. Pat looked at him incredibly, “how bloody old are you, and still a virgin?”
Charlie, eyed his mate, “I`m only 27, I`ve been on the road since I was 16 and Moisey, moved on the day I got here so I missed out!”, he looked as if he was 60, a pathetic, wrinkled, tatty soul in a mack held together round the middle by a length of blue plastic rope. his floppy hat hiding his eye`s his hair long and matted touching his shoulders.
John, addressing her with a bit of a stutter, explained t-t-that w-women in these e-e-enc-c-amp-men-t`s were h-h-hard to find, the young-g-ger ones a-av-avoided c-c-amps an` the older ones u-u-used hostels, so a w-w-willing soul l-l-like Moisey, was a b-bub-busy girl.
Helen sat on a convenient pile of bricks and produced the ½ bottle, handing it on, the eyes followed it hungrily as it was passed round the fire to muttered thanks, she quietly said to Pat that she was here to give them some solace, she wanted to be screwed really, but if he had no energy would he prefer a blow job? Again, he explained that they had no money, and she laughed, “I don’t want your damned money, I want sex, raw and rough sex of the worse kind so just get it out and let`s see what`s on offer ….”
Pat looked back, his jaw drooping, amazed at her statement. Offers like this didn`t come each day. She grinned reached for the tatty mack and was soon looking at an even more tatty pair of trousers. held up by a length of sash cord. The trousers dropped, and there was a smelly unwashed cock not huge, not special, just smelly, came into view, unwashed and now attempting to rise to the occasion.
Without ado she pulled it to her and braving the smell she began her evening`s entertainment.
She put her heart and soul into those first blow jobs, allowing each to finger her now very wet cunt. Pat first, then John, whose dick like a horse and flooded her mouth like a hose, Sid, who`s thanks were so heartfelt she almost cried she was so touched and then the reluctant Mickey, with just 3”at full reach, who settled for just had a hand job, though it really was more of a fingering and a kiss while his hand was under her skirt. she left Charlie till last, taking his hand and asking, “where was his tent,” he appreciated that gesture, not relishing what he knew would be armature-fumbling’s under the gaze of an audience. They left the warmth of the fire to a round of applause and comments like Pats, “you will be a man by midnight Charlie”, or Andy`s “make the most of her boyo she`s the real deal!” or Johns “t-t-t-two`s up…”
He led her to an old army pup tent, small but simple to carry, it had been his home for the last ten years, his few possessions bagged ready for a quick departure should the council or someone move them on, it had become habit, a strange normality.
He was shy with her, 6 feet tall, a street beggar, filthy and smelly though he had always strived to be clean, lately he had given up the struggle. He had little contact with females, though he had wished… he led her into his haven, on their knees the tent small and low. Till then he had hardly spoken. She knew it was to her to break the ice “are you really a virgin?” she asked… he nodded then hesitantly explained he had walked from an abusive alcoholic family when he was 16 and had never been back, sadly he had had little contact with women and had been if truth be told a little scared of them. She kissed him, gently and tenderly, he was instantly in love, and tenting the track suit he habitually wore. He had received it from a christmas shelter, and it had been on him since the day the shelter closed immediately after boxing day, when they had all been unceremoniously been pushed back out into the cold wet streets. As you could expect it stank of a stale body it was now June…
He looked at her, shocked a little that she had allowed her lips on his, most women would have shrank away. Suddenly he wanted more, again he kissed her his hands exploring her breasts hidden under the white top she rolled onto her back lifting her hips and hitching the skirt up to expose her wet and available cunt to his gaze, not that he could see much detail it being dark and unlit bar the distant street lights and the silvery moon neither of which penetrated through the filthy canvas. Like a blind man reading braille his hand roamed her body, he soon found the target his face had she been able to see it would have been a wonder to behold, amazement, joy, surprise, and extasy in a one expression…magic he shucked the tatty trousers to his ankles and in the hot and rampant tool slid. She had had a customer or two that screwed her hard over the years, this though was something different, hard yes, thrusting, squirming, ecstatic, magic, and breaking new ground. The smelly body writhed on hers, it bucked fucked and made love, not once or twice but three definite times he orgasmed, shots of his hot wet seed filling her without once losing that stiff errection, never losing pace between, never becoming slack, just at her, on, and on, and on! her own orgasms seemed to roll, each getting more acute, each taking her into some fantasy that was made more intense with each roll of the dice. Then suddenly it was over, marked by her scream of extasy, that had Dave bolting down the steps, and the fire sitting bunch on their feet, to protect one of their own! Hearing the approaching foot-falls and realising her knight in armour was reacting to her scream, she called that she was ok, and re-arranging their clothing they crawled out, she introduced Dave as her minder, which eased the tensions round the tent front. She kissed each in turn told them she would be back and arm in arm with her husband retreated to the motor, the assembled homeless watching her go, wishing more local ladies were as bounteous.
Her red hair in the shaft of sunlight from the bedroom window shone like gold as she glanced at the alarm clock ticking its way towards ten…ten ...shit…it can`t have gone off… she poked hubby Dave in the ribs “you great useless waste of space, you forgot to set the alarm!” she shouted leaping out of the big old bed.
Dave grinned, watching her silently as she grabbed underclothes from the chest of drawers… she was a picture naked silhouetted against that harsh sunlight, Pert breasts, not overly huge, but handleable, tall shapely body, nice bum! It was a picture the big man never tired of, his own wife naked! He waited watching her, holding her head with one hand and selecting a bra with the other, her face a flush of panic, then he asked what the problem was, grinning at her, she cursed him, “Problem , problem,” she almost screamed “it`s 10am and I`ve overslept, and as head of my department I should have set an example…”she had always been a high flyer, prone occasionally to drink a bit, free with her favours and oversexed its true, but that’s what he loved about her.
She set off for the bathroom knickers and bra in hand when he dropped the bombshell, “Erm, you do know its Saturday…!”
Mid stride she turned and with her red-haired temper threw the underclothes at him hitting him full in the face and cursing him roundly.
He sc****d the black webbing from his jaw, and began laughing which diffused the moment somewhat, she sitting back on the bed as if she was a toy and her battery had flattened, her head beat like a drum solo, and she slumped on the pillows a spent force.
She suddenly remembered last night, her boss, plying her with drink, desperately trying to overcome her inhibitions and get her away on her own, to bed her, silly pillock, he only had to ask, and she would have been putty in his hands, anything to have gained that next promotion! And of-course it would have saved this woolly head this morning!
As it was dave had had to fetch her home afterwards, turning out to the hotel the “seminar” was at, to fetch her as only a doting husband would in the small hours.
As usual he had not been along, he never went to these snooty affairs it was not his thing.
They had been married 18 years this year, they rubbed along well, lived in a fairly nice detached home on the edge of a small town, had a nice car, and she a good job, but there the idyllic lifestyle ends. They had a son 17 years back he was born, he`s at a good school now, and he has Dave`s build, and Helens colouring. a much-loved rugby playing son to be proud of! However, the birth had been traumatic, he was a huge baby and it had left her unable to have more k**dies, which at the time seemed devastating.
However, Dave proved to be a voyeur, a cuckold, call it what you like, he just loved to see his wife fucked and fucked well, and he worried not who by. So, this barren arrangement strangely proved to suit them both well in the long run!
Helen soon proved herself to be a nymphomaniac she loved sex in any form! But in her case it went further, it was a case of opposites, she had a high-flying job it was true, and she was happy to use her not inconsiderable sexual talent`s to further her career, that was a fact but, what her piers didn’t know was that come the weekend she was a total whore nowadays, using her body to cater for the baser areas of life, working men, perverts, cash paying men and the seedier end of the market. Though of course in her case the motivation was not cash, it was just to be degraded, used and in the most basic of ways, it was her joy for some strange reason to share her body like some common prostitute!
Dave however got his kicks from pandering to her whim`s, he got her ready, he dressed her, drove her to the area she thought of as hers, watched out for her, made sure no harm befell her and generally enjoyed her debasement with her, before fetching her home and loving her. it was a perfect arrangement.
Tonight, would be as normal nowadays every Friday and Saturday night, last night had been exceptional, due to that wretched seminar, though she still got screwed and for a change in the general manager`s hotel bed, rather than against the wall in the truckyard, or under the canal arch she usually ended up under on a wet Friday night! The tryst with her manager could not have done her prospects any harm, but she was not keen on the hangover she now had.
They dozed till dinnertime, when she had to get up to piss, though she felt a lot better, Dave made tea, he had been up since the alarm clock debacle, and had left her to sleep knowing her situation. They lay on the bed together, sipping tea and letting her wake-up properly.
He asked what her plan was for tonight, which really meant which area would they be targeting, as knowing his wayward wife it was a definite fact she would be out being screwed somewhere. Her answer that “she was going to do something different” threw him a little, he sat up and looked at her smiling face as she said that “the salvation army had been collecting in her office on Wednesday, and like all do-good setups they had left leaflets about the homeless, it had got her thinking, those poor folks out their on the streets, financially hard-up, living rough, hungry and in need, they need some sexual comfort`s too!
Looking on it as her mission to the poor, she told Dave her plan!
She had decided on the trinity park industrial estate, there was a piece of shrublands at the far end with a few tents between the gorse, alongside the canal, homeless folks who lived out of the bins behind the bakery, and scrounged milk, butter and cheese from the dairy in exchange for cleaning work.
Dave began after the afternoon meal, taking her to the bathroom, bathing her and perfuming her lithe body then dressing her in a lovely lacy bright red platform bra, a matching suspender belt, stockings which he smoothed in place sensuously, clipping the suspenders expertly in place and combing her pubic hair neatly. She staunchly refused the panties saying it was symbolic, and practical…! Now came the slutty bit, a tight white top, and a red skirt that clung to her arse tightly matched with high-heeled black leather boots that almost her knees and were laced up the side all the way from ankle to knee, she sat while he did her make-up, full red lips, and eye shadow her hair combed over her shoulders. Donning a black leather jacket, she looked both slutty and fantastic in one! She slipped a ½ bottle of cheap scotch into her pocket, checked herself in the mirror for the slutty effect, then told him he had done well, a compliment that caused him to beam.
They set out, Dave as usual driving the 20 minutes through the light late evening traffic, till they parked in the road on the bridge, beside the canal warfe warehouse from where Dave would have a view over the gorse covered scrubland and the little camp of homeless souls. Normally she would just stand under the light on the corner beside the pub, the bell and butcher, on their usual spot near St Dunstan`s, and work like any whore, on passing trade, but tonight would need a different approach. Dave watched his precious wife descend the steps to the canal-side, he was already erect!
The sun was setting, the world bathed in that strange flush of that `soon to be dark’ twilight of a warm June evening, her heels clattering on the stone steps, worn smooth over the last 150 years by countless feet.
Boldly she wandered through the patchy gorse, here and there small tents, some real but cheap tents, some just plastic sheets, some cardboard or corrugated iron, from at least one, a pair of enquiring and suspicious eyes followed her progress.
Central to the camp alongside the railings of the dairy was an old oil drum, flames issuing from the top and a number of scruffy men, were sitting round it, passing round a shared bottle of some sort of spirit.
Boldly she approached the fire and said, “hi boys!” Eyes swivelled in her direction, and one, an old and tatty body, wrapped in a mack and a battered trilby, eyed her up and down then said, “youm welcome gal, youm a site for old eyes, but we ait got the money to pay for the likes of you!” she grinned, and reassuringly said “her name was Helen, and she hadn’t come to make money, just too make their lives a bit more fun!” a ripple of muted chuckles of surprise ran around the old lads, eyes brightened, minds ran riot.
”I`m Pat,” the old boy sat nearest said, he nodded at the rest in turn, “that`s Charlie, Sid, John, Andy and the thin one is Mickey, they all chuckled at that, Mickey being short and so fat he reminded her of a picture on her c***dhood nursery wall of Billy Bunter. Each in turn, either nodded or waved a filthy paw at her, acknowledging her, appraising her dress, and their chances, their eyes shining bright in the light reflected from the crackling fire.
Pat seemed to be the spokesman, “Most of us couldn’t get stiff enough to do your sort much good anyway my gal`, we don’t have the energy, it`s our diet an` our age`s, see!” he looked genuinely sorry eyeing her in a way that said he wished he was younger, much younger. She knew tact was not the way to go so asked “How long since you had some form of sex then Pat?” It was bold and direct, he pondered the question, gazing into the flames in a sad sort of way, then slowly said, “just afore the wife passed, must be a good four years I spose, life`s a bastard!” she looked at each of them, each in turn grunted or nodded, agreeing life was indeed a bastard! Sid, laughed that “he had had the wife the night before she chucked him out, as she thought he was having yet another affair!” which caused a smile, Andy, said that “he and John had had old Moisey when she passed through the camp last year, Mickey saying he too had had Moisey, at which they looked surprised, then all the eyes fell on the last man, Charlie, who saying he was a virgin, blushed red faced, like a filthy version of a baboon arse. Pat looked at him incredibly, “how bloody old are you, and still a virgin?”
Charlie, eyed his mate, “I`m only 27, I`ve been on the road since I was 16 and Moisey, moved on the day I got here so I missed out!”, he looked as if he was 60, a pathetic, wrinkled, tatty soul in a mack held together round the middle by a length of blue plastic rope. his floppy hat hiding his eye`s his hair long and matted touching his shoulders.
John, addressing her with a bit of a stutter, explained t-t-that w-women in these e-e-enc-c-amp-men-t`s were h-h-hard to find, the young-g-ger ones a-av-avoided c-c-amps an` the older ones u-u-used hostels, so a w-w-willing soul l-l-like Moisey, was a b-bub-busy girl.
Helen sat on a convenient pile of bricks and produced the ½ bottle, handing it on, the eyes followed it hungrily as it was passed round the fire to muttered thanks, she quietly said to Pat that she was here to give them some solace, she wanted to be screwed really, but if he had no energy would he prefer a blow job? Again, he explained that they had no money, and she laughed, “I don’t want your damned money, I want sex, raw and rough sex of the worse kind so just get it out and let`s see what`s on offer ….”
Pat looked back, his jaw drooping, amazed at her statement. Offers like this didn`t come each day. She grinned reached for the tatty mack and was soon looking at an even more tatty pair of trousers. held up by a length of sash cord. The trousers dropped, and there was a smelly unwashed cock not huge, not special, just smelly, came into view, unwashed and now attempting to rise to the occasion.
Without ado she pulled it to her and braving the smell she began her evening`s entertainment.
She put her heart and soul into those first blow jobs, allowing each to finger her now very wet cunt. Pat first, then John, whose dick like a horse and flooded her mouth like a hose, Sid, who`s thanks were so heartfelt she almost cried she was so touched and then the reluctant Mickey, with just 3”at full reach, who settled for just had a hand job, though it really was more of a fingering and a kiss while his hand was under her skirt. she left Charlie till last, taking his hand and asking, “where was his tent,” he appreciated that gesture, not relishing what he knew would be armature-fumbling’s under the gaze of an audience. They left the warmth of the fire to a round of applause and comments like Pats, “you will be a man by midnight Charlie”, or Andy`s “make the most of her boyo she`s the real deal!” or Johns “t-t-t-two`s up…”
He led her to an old army pup tent, small but simple to carry, it had been his home for the last ten years, his few possessions bagged ready for a quick departure should the council or someone move them on, it had become habit, a strange normality.
He was shy with her, 6 feet tall, a street beggar, filthy and smelly though he had always strived to be clean, lately he had given up the struggle. He had little contact with females, though he had wished… he led her into his haven, on their knees the tent small and low. Till then he had hardly spoken. She knew it was to her to break the ice “are you really a virgin?” she asked… he nodded then hesitantly explained he had walked from an abusive alcoholic family when he was 16 and had never been back, sadly he had had little contact with women and had been if truth be told a little scared of them. She kissed him, gently and tenderly, he was instantly in love, and tenting the track suit he habitually wore. He had received it from a christmas shelter, and it had been on him since the day the shelter closed immediately after boxing day, when they had all been unceremoniously been pushed back out into the cold wet streets. As you could expect it stank of a stale body it was now June…
He looked at her, shocked a little that she had allowed her lips on his, most women would have shrank away. Suddenly he wanted more, again he kissed her his hands exploring her breasts hidden under the white top she rolled onto her back lifting her hips and hitching the skirt up to expose her wet and available cunt to his gaze, not that he could see much detail it being dark and unlit bar the distant street lights and the silvery moon neither of which penetrated through the filthy canvas. Like a blind man reading braille his hand roamed her body, he soon found the target his face had she been able to see it would have been a wonder to behold, amazement, joy, surprise, and extasy in a one expression…magic he shucked the tatty trousers to his ankles and in the hot and rampant tool slid. She had had a customer or two that screwed her hard over the years, this though was something different, hard yes, thrusting, squirming, ecstatic, magic, and breaking new ground. The smelly body writhed on hers, it bucked fucked and made love, not once or twice but three definite times he orgasmed, shots of his hot wet seed filling her without once losing that stiff errection, never losing pace between, never becoming slack, just at her, on, and on, and on! her own orgasms seemed to roll, each getting more acute, each taking her into some fantasy that was made more intense with each roll of the dice. Then suddenly it was over, marked by her scream of extasy, that had Dave bolting down the steps, and the fire sitting bunch on their feet, to protect one of their own! Hearing the approaching foot-falls and realising her knight in armour was reacting to her scream, she called that she was ok, and re-arranging their clothing they crawled out, she introduced Dave as her minder, which eased the tensions round the tent front. She kissed each in turn told them she would be back and arm in arm with her husband retreated to the motor, the assembled homeless watching her go, wishing more local ladies were as bounteous.
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