Women of all ages of the neighborhood were displaying their cup sizes in full glory – tits in tight kameez and t-shirts were everywhere. I flirted w...th most of the women and fondled most of them. Honestly, all men were doing the same. It was a slut-fest out there. Most of the women didn't really care about me touching them, cupping their breasts and rubbing their butts. Some still treated me like the teenage k** who moved in years ago. One of them even tried making out with me but of course, we. ‘I just thought I’d like to touch myself — I wasn’t going to do it!’ I wailed. ‘I know you don’t like me masturbating.’ ‘Poor baby,’ she crooned understandingly. ‘You’ll get better with practice. Now clean that up before it ruins the floor.’ I didn’t want to risk another accident, and I knew how Stacey’s mind worked, mostly. I scooted backwards a little and bent to the floor, licking my piss from the polished hardwood. There wasn’t really much of it, and the lack of comment was all the approval. More

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