Un ka laund meri chut me upar neeche naach naach kar condom ko apne lund ras se bharta raha. Thodi der hum waise hi chipke huye chudai me apne jharne ...a maza lete rahe aur phir chacha ne apna lund meri chut se bahar nikaal liya. Maine dekha ki condom aage se un ke lund ras se gubbare ki tarah phoola hua hai. Jab chacha ne apne lund se condom utaara to maine un ka lund apne muh me liya aur us ko chus chus kar, chat chat kar saaf karne lagi. Maine unke lund ko poora saaf kardiya tha aur chacha. A slave who was lucky enough to become an intimate body-slave or personal maid would often also become a favourite and might even hope for manumission without the almost impossible task of collecting enough in voluntary tips and gratuities to buy their freedom. Many a rich man’s funeral simultaneously saw the bitter tears of some newly purchased slave who was to be slaughtered to ritually serve their Dominus in the afterlife and the joyful tears of slaves who were to be manumitted to the status. At that moment, I resented my impatience. Backs and sides of bodies surrounded us; it was standing room only. The crowd smashed us body-to-body. He had me wedged between a plexiglass divider and his antagonist. Without my knowing his name or his destination, he took liberties to press into my sex. “Sorry about this. I would move if I could, but there’s no where for me to go,” was the extent of his spearmint-scented apology. “Since we’re in each other’s personal space, may I ask your name?”. On the appointed evening, I checked into a hotel. I had called Margo and asked if she had a car other than the stretched limo. I told her the neighborhood that I would be visiting and she promised to secure a suitable sedan. I didn't feel that I would need an armed bodyguard. I just needed the comfort of having a woman accompany me. She was happy to let me sit in the front passenger seat and chat with me as she drove me to the large house and parked in the circular drive. I removed the mask.