Didn’t care. I arched my back as he entered me, then he fucked me until I couldn’t think straight. Three hours after I had walked in, I left. Eamo... had to help me to the car. I was fucked. Had been fucked. I was exhausted. He drove me to the next address, my cunt and arse wet and sticky. Lucky I had a panty liner in my bag, and some wet wipes. We stopped outside. I checked the address. It was right. I walked in. Into the tattooists. An hour later Eamon drove me home. I drank a cup of tea, at. "Woah, check out that nice piece of ass," he said, obviously theringleader of the little group, speaking loud enough that he clearlyintended me to hear, "I wouldn't mind hitting a bit of that!" Nah," said one of the other guys, as I was still trying to place hisfriend's voice, "She's out of your league, Greg."Greg! That was it, the name recalled to my mind instantly the owner ofthe voice. As I turned to give him a quick once over, checking him out ashe had me, I could now see that it was. More

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