Trust me this was better than the porn I watched in the holidays. I guess her stats was 34-28-36. Or maybe better.Her milky stomach was exposed due to...air. I was pretty sure she wore her saree below the navel. But she was clever to pin it. I was checking out her entire body ass to breasts forgetting I’m in a class.‘Excuse me,’ a voice.It was for me. I was into the sightseeing of this mesmerizing beauty. But I was unaware of the fact that it was my turn for the introduction.‘Hello, sir!’ Shruthi. She was sharing a spare room with her mother and my sister had often complained about how messy her daughter was, just dropping clothes on the floor as she removed them.I took a huge chance and excused myself. Sneaking upstairs I peeked into her room. I quickly scanned the bed but saw nothing. Then my heart leapt as I saw a laundry bag by her suitcase. Could it be?I tiptoed over and looked inside. For once the messy teen had acted out of character and put her things away. The tights were in the. Their faces were either thrust up on thick necks and squashed beneath frayed blonde-dyed hair or sprouted like stalks of asparagus topped with a head of hair that appeared to have been borrowed from someone else.Benedict Cosgrove, mind you, wasn't as much a crime to fashion and good taste as most of the corpulent, aging and mottled-skin gentlemen in the music room and accompanying salon, but he was scarcely graced with the looks of a movie star. However, as Susan steadily but deliberately. She shook her head again, I thought I saw a tear, I moved up close, checking the clothes pins, the one on her left nipple was not quite straight any more and the eight or nine around it were no longer symmetrical so I changed them, a tiny trickle of blood showed where she had bitten her lip to stop herself crying out.The clothes pins on her labia were fine, but the one on her clit hood had fallen off again."Anything to say now?" I asked."Forgive me, that's all." she replied quietly.I ratcheted.