It was rude of me to stop you.” My fingers slid along her pussy lips. “You’re soaking wet. You want it bad…Can I help you finish?” I pressed...the heal of my hand against the top of her clit and tentatively hooked the tip of my middle finger inside her. “mmmhMMMM” she responded, increasing in volume as I slipped more of my finger in. I plunged my middle finger all the way in and hooked it toward myself, rubbing along her softness. I ran it in and out a few times, enjoying the emotions playing. Friday came , as did a text from her to confirm . The weather was kind , dull but dry , we arrived in the car park at about the same time , and I was excited to see her again . Even more so when she got out her car wearing some tight jeans and tight white tee shirt which came with the benefit of being thin enough to let her nipples show through. Putting on her warm coat , off we strolled ,again conversation turned to the old days . The times I walked her and her sister home after drinking in. Plzzzzzzzzzzzzz……..Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh….Mammyyyyyyyyy…..Mar gayi………..Maa bacho………..Bhaiyyaaaaaaaaaaa….Raham karo……..Par main eek na suni aur tezi se apna lund under bahar karne laga…..Meri behan ka dard 10 nimt baad kam ho gaya aur wo apni gaand utha kar mera sath dene lagi….Maine pucha Gauri ab kaisa lag raha hai to wo boli bhiayyyyyaaaaaaaaaa….Daalo aur aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh….Maza aa raha hai….Chod do mujhe……..Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh …fir maine Gauri ko kaha behan teri choot ki seal to. She could make herself agree with every answer he gave in those moments. Praise the lord, and all that.But that was a lie too. India could make herself believe anything, or nothing at all, depending on how useful those beliefs were to her at the moment. In the company of Moses, she would enjoy the silent moments in spiritual contemplation with her morning coffee.In the brothel, she had enjoyed the wicked taste of cruelty as she abused the body of some unfortunate girl for her own pleasure. On.
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