Chapter 7

Annette, who wouldn’t let her husband get on top of her, was on her knees, sucking off the janitor and the bum.

During the blowjob, she kept trying to get her tongue under the old man’s scrotum. He moaned, clutching her shampooed hair with his dirty hands. Actually, Omar himself didn’t understand why Allah had granted him such pleasure and how it happened that this bitch was now beneath him, behind her husband’s back. But why think about it; anything good that falls into your hands, you definitely take and don’t give back! And if you do have to give it back ... then for money.

Ann was moving her head faster and faster. The sucking sounds from below were driving the old man crazy. To live your whole life as a loser, only to fuck a royal angel in old age -- now that was fate! Annette, sensing the none-too-pleasant smell, thought she’d have to tell Omar about the need for more thorough personal hygiene, now that he’d started an active sex life. But on the other hand, that smell contrasted so sharply with the smell of her well-groomed husband and the smell of a proper life that it made her nipples even harder!

“Fuck me already, Omar!” the beautiful woman exclaimed, unable to bear it any longer. Her voice was a summons that was almost impossible to refuse. But Omar had his own plans for this evening; he was tired of eating instant noodles with stolen vegetables.

“I’m the one giving orders here, daughter,” he said softly, feeling almost no fear. He was no longer afraid Annette would object; he could sense desire in this white whore. She nodded readily, aroused by the old man’s words no less than by his cock.