Pedo Cure - Sex Stories

Pedo Cure

... by eight.” “No problem, I haven’t had it all day,” I explained, “So you’re not really on game?” She looked at the floor, “Not really, but it’s the rent,” she said and she handed me a condom. I would like to say it was unforgettable sex but I forgot what we did almost straight away, mind you I used two rubbers just in case so it was as much fun as fucking a knot hole in next doors shed, not that I ever done that you see, and after we had a fag which set the smoke alarm off, one of those fucking days you just couldn’t make up. Turned out her real name was Hayley after all and she wanted to be a TV anchor what ever that was, I always thought they was called Wankers but she said it was Anchor. She never did get back for eight, by the time we sorted the fire alarm I was horny again and I had her from behind across the back of the settee bareback, risky I know but fucking worth it as the bitch started wailing and howling as she got the orgasm she so badly needed. “We shouldn’t have done that," she simpered. “No," I agreed, “Risky." “Shall we do it again?" she asked, “On the house?" “Only if I get breakfast," I demanded. “Orange juice?" she offered. “If I give you a full English then I expect a proper breakfast," I replied. “Oh you do say the most outrageous things," she said ad she kissed my lips like we was lovers and she kicked the settee and it folded out to make a bed so we could fuck in comfort. She got me breakfast, on sodding slice of toast at around six in the morning, ...

... fucking six, I ask you as she had to get “to work!” I rang Fforbes, him and Tony was still shacked up with Lithuanians so I arranged to meet up at Kings Cross at ten ish, which was fucking thick as train went from Euston. I got home on Thursday, mum said the leaders assistant rang so I rang her "Allthwaite you're fucking dead!" she screamed, "They want you on Question Time!" she ranted, "You instead of party leader, what you playing at wanker?" "Look, keep your knickers on," I said reasonably, "For a start your visa expired last year, so don't push it, and second I don't want to be on question time anyway." It was pretty hopeless, Sandra nearly wet herself when she heard I was going to be on Question Time so as Tony and Sgt Fforbes was on sick with nasty rashes she came down to London with me and her Mum in Aunty Joan’s clapped out Astra and after fucking ages stuck in traffic with the engine boiling over we found our way round to the Television centre. Hayley was there, if looks could kill, well when Sandra said she was me girlfriend, but we were late and almost before I knew it I was on stage behind a desk and I was all wired up with these politicians I knew vaguely from the TV. They all ignored me, suited me fine, then the piss taking started, that smarmy git was in chair, the usual one was off sick, "Before we get onto your specialised subject of Pedophiles, Mr Allthwaite, have you any thoughts on Libya." "Fucking cheap holiday deals there," I said, "And plenty of action." "I ...