Little thing called brain-cancer. Not long now...I was prepared to find the Chalmers Street launderette bulldozed into something new and unrecognisabl..., but it was still there, and the same old facade in yellow-grey London brick carried great emotional force.For this was where it had all started when I was a sulky sixteen, quarrelling with my father every weekend, and allowed to sit in that warm, steamy launderette, if I would help the manageress to tidy-up at closing. God knows she wasn't a. I grabbed my cock and smacked it playfully against her thick ass.“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked.“Yes!” She practically shouted. “Please sir, fuck my little pussy. It's all yours.”How could I say no? I looked up to see the trees, the far off mountaintop, the beautiful scenery present in the bay windows all set dressing for the ass in the air waiting for me. The head of my cock came against her pussy and I pushed myself in, the first few inches sinking in slowly. I could see the faint. More

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