"Better still scrap it." she suggested unkindly. "And it's Miss Hamilton - Grey to you Groves" she certainly knew how to deliver a put down six months in the same house and she still didn't know my name. I thought of the first mother time we met, in the lounge at the student house we shared, I lived in a flat on campus for the first year then we found "Digs" for the second and third years, so the first time we met was after the summer break when we moved in. I was completely tongue tied, her beauty took my breath away, yet she was clearly horrified, well I had been working on the car and maybe my face was not entirely free of oil, and my hands were undoubtedly covered in it, but still she might have been polite. I wondered why she chose to live here, clearly her parents were rich, her allowance was certainly generous judging by the designer clothes she wore. Each day brought a new torment, somehow other girls seemed somehow diminished by comparison with Angie, certainly I never seemed to find anyone to build a relationship with. It was a faint hope, supposing that a ride with me was preferable to getting threesome soaked but clearly it was not enough. The rains continued, week on week it seemed, somehow I managed to coax the ageing vehicle to life each morning despite it Hardcore being over thirty years old, which at least meant I could get in the bathroom after Angie and the other girls had left to catch the bus.awkward. There was something about Angie, the shape of her neck, those pear shaped breasts, the blue eyes, that long golden hair, maybe even her haughty manner that got under my skin in a way Amanda and Charlotte the other housemates never managed to do. Fridays were worst, most Fridays we had a gig somewhere for our little rock band, and straight old after the last lectures we would set off with the amps and drum kit squeezed into my tiny van and the rest of the kit and the lads in Tom's Mondeo station wagon. I remember one night, she was in our lounge, drunk, I thought, when I returned, her pink knees framed a pair of brown buttocks as some new guy took his pleasure with her, another negro, she liked negroes. I felt physically sick. He pulled away as he heard me, "Fuck you pervert" he said as he threw the glistening used condom in the fireplace. I saw she had shaved her pubes, her slit glistened obscenely between her slightly reddened abused lower lips. "I'm sorry," was all I could say as I closed the door and heard them burst into uncontrollable giggles. My second mom year rolled on, the Band became more popular, Gigs rolled in, every weekend. The gigs were great, well sometimes people stopped yelling long enough for us to hear ourselves play, but after two or three twenty minute sets, then dismantling everything and loading the van the evening seemed to be gone, but usually I was home before Angie put in an appearance in the early hours, after an evening in the bar then on to an expensive nightclub with her "Friends." then she would be belting out pop songs in completely the wrong key in that high soprano voice of hers, the sort that smashes wine glasses and kills rats at fifty paces. I noticed a gradual change in Angie, I missed the big things but suddenly the guys she brought home were richer, her type I thought, and she took them to her room, not the lounge. I actually felt pleased, she deserved someone decent, but they seemed strangely old, then I had to make a decision, the Band got a record contract, except it meant giving up my degree course, the other guys were up for it but I had worked too hard and I was unsure. We both become lost in our strange lovemaking for a time. Glasses that sit on an adorable innocent looking face and a smile that would make Ray Charles fall in love. It didn't support his weight. She found the correct key, pushed it into the lock and twisted, but she found mom herself hesitating for a moment, her head tilted back against his shoulder as she gasped gently, her lips parted as he bit gently at her neck, sending shivers down her spine. ‘Hey, yeah. “Later!” I tossed behind my shoulder as I ran like an idiot to history. I closed and locked my door, turning to my closet and looking through my shirts for my Breaking Bad Heisenberg t-shirt, which was my favorite. Knowing that she had been caught staring at Liam's cock, she was so flustered, all she could mother do was stammer, "Yes...yes, it is!" Trent was watching a read out as the first of the shells hit. She reached old down Hardcore between them and positioned the head against her wetness. "She is, Mrs. Walker. Page (7) I giggled again, “Maybe.” And aggressive. But if you let us BBQ you, we can sell your meat and give the money to your family. And reached back and took hold of his rock hard cock, as I listened to the heavy breathing. Relief was infrequent at Cambridge, threesome every spare penny I had I invested and only some of it did I invest on playing poker, leaving none what so ever for liquor or whoring.