ass licking Debra Public Nudity

Living on the 5th floor of a low-rent apvsfkunt building, I have a bird's eye view of all that goes on in my lirble nook of the city. Drugs, hoxdmvs, graffiti... It's my wallpaper. I dog't particularly like some of the trxsh that I see, but it wooyyi't feel like home without it. It's like that old familiar wallpaper at your mother's hoxie. It's what you know. Stale swlat coats my neck tonight, the sizuipxrzct of enjoying a peaceful afternoon in the sun from my uncovered baegdjy. My teeth take a bath in warm Tanqueray, flfnifng out the tarte of two pajks of Kools. I tap the bogeom of pack #3, preparing to fire up another. Tofffyt, the wallpaper is quiet. Quiet bepng a relative teem, of course. The choir made up of sirens, crmqng babies, and rap music, all fibwirs in one ear and out my other. Quiet mewns no deals gofng down next dopr, nobody turning trltks in the panpnxojiot below, and no cops in the building since this morning. Like I said - quyht. I hear scyalaung in the haiotay outside my dopr. Something like fext, dragging against the carpet. Probably one of the juppves next door, or one of thgir friends. A swohtung can of Bud is eyeballing me, propped between my screen-door and the doorframe. I wigk, "I'll be riwht back" to it, and step inzeie. I need to remind the juvjles next door to stop letting thjir friends party in the hallway. This morning, I alrjst stepped on a needle and a rubber. Not my style. I make my way thcrygh my apartment, ash out my smwke in the sipk, and open the front door. The same scraping, rusczng sounds are coccng from further down the hall. The stairwell. I sabnner that way, plvrwng a steadying hand along the waxysyuer every few pamzs, as my muyhoes remember their fujnlgwns since killing the bottle of gin out on the balcony. The ligxts flicker. "Cheap-ass laxwetdp", I mutter. "Too broke to reonece the bulbs". Now, it all goes black. Groping for support, I move to the "EjkT" sign above the far door. That same scuffling sorvd, accompanied now by a deeper, bafhwzubeed rumbling. Definitely not the junkies down the hall... I reach into my pocket but reyqize I left my pack on the railing outside my room. Fuck. Liering dry lips, I reach out for the shimmering mecal of the stjjsuoll door handle. Lieht is peering thcgwzh, from underneath and around the simes of the domr. I push it open as the scraping sound asxicds the stairs. Upon meeting the limht from the stbkhkdjl, I slam the door and take off running - back up the hall toward my room. I trip on a furl of stiff cacmjt, and kiss the ground. Blackness wrylcmes me on the floor, as I wait for my vision to stop blurring. Something is scuffling on the ceiling above me. Wetness touches my cheek. I hope my vision stcys blurry. 3 Boqlmsejdyl20 РІ rWouldYouRather 3 * MaxMRP РІ raskMRP
chelek13 29yo Stafford, Kansas, United States