M, my ex from Manchester and her landlord?
Now, a few words about M. She was quite small, short dark hair, very small tits, wore big glasses and was quite boyish/ androgynous.
She was a completely no nonsense gobby Manc bird from a Catholic family, quite an eye opener to a mealy mouthed southerner like me. Absolutely loved cock too and would demand it at inappropriate times. I still get a little tremour thinking about her look over the shoulder and that accent "so, are you going to fock me up the ass, or what?".
She lived about 20 miles away from me, in a weird old house near Biggin Hill. Now, M's landlord was a bit of a steroid nutter body builder and petty crim called Dave. One day M started to tell me about Dave's nasty little sexual kink, which apparently was getting the massive horn for women on their period. He would get into an uncontrollable a****l lusty rage at the whiff of bloody knickers.
It seems that our Dave had a special set of sheets for his bed, crispy with trophy blood from the local slags and whores whom he would command to visit when they were flowing heavily. He would eat them out lavishly and stagger around the house with blood all over his face.
I was a bit wet behind the ears and didn't really put 2 and 2 together at the time. Maybe I was in denial, but now I regularly wank myself off thinking about Dave slamming away, buried deep in M's bleeding cunt.
There's a vision of her on all fours, eyes closed and high as a kite, while the blood dripped onto the dreadful sheets from her parted lips, while he bashes away at her tight little northern shitter. That makes me disgustingly hard too....
I'm a fucking idiot for not asking about it or watching them at it. But hey, that's life, marked with little regrets.....
She was a completely no nonsense gobby Manc bird from a Catholic family, quite an eye opener to a mealy mouthed southerner like me. Absolutely loved cock too and would demand it at inappropriate times. I still get a little tremour thinking about her look over the shoulder and that accent "so, are you going to fock me up the ass, or what?".
She lived about 20 miles away from me, in a weird old house near Biggin Hill. Now, M's landlord was a bit of a steroid nutter body builder and petty crim called Dave. One day M started to tell me about Dave's nasty little sexual kink, which apparently was getting the massive horn for women on their period. He would get into an uncontrollable a****l lusty rage at the whiff of bloody knickers.
It seems that our Dave had a special set of sheets for his bed, crispy with trophy blood from the local slags and whores whom he would command to visit when they were flowing heavily. He would eat them out lavishly and stagger around the house with blood all over his face.
I was a bit wet behind the ears and didn't really put 2 and 2 together at the time. Maybe I was in denial, but now I regularly wank myself off thinking about Dave slamming away, buried deep in M's bleeding cunt.
There's a vision of her on all fours, eyes closed and high as a kite, while the blood dripped onto the dreadful sheets from her parted lips, while he bashes away at her tight little northern shitter. That makes me disgustingly hard too....
I'm a fucking idiot for not asking about it or watching them at it. But hey, that's life, marked with little regrets.....
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