Uske haath mere underarms se hote hue mere sar ki piche jaa rahe the….Aur mere haath uski kamar aur gaand ke paas the jaha se main use khich raha th... taaki uska pura loda meri gaand me aa jaye…..Dosto main yahi soch raha tha ki mera sabse khaas dost mujhe chod raha hai……Meri chudai aur saath me hotho ki chusai aur tongue fight saath me thuk ki adla badli bhi chal rahi thi…..Jab wo mujhe chod raha tha tab uske underarms mere muh ke paas aa rahe the….Uske underarms ekdum clean shaved the….Mujhse. Dad was a concept I had no knowledge of; Mum would never speak of mineor offer any detail of how they'd met or lived together. As I grewolder I came to realise that she probably couldn't remember himherself, some sex she'd decided on when drunk or stoned whoseconsequence had lasted far beyond expectation.Other people might have been angry or resentful about such a father.Not me, what I got from Mum, aside from red hair and pale skin, was alaid-back outlook on life; things happen for a reason. More

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