“How about a video, I’m sure you’d like to see me cum in some of the panties, once a month I could do a video for you.” I said.“How long of ... video?” Kshitiz asked.“A half hour at the very least.” I said.“So let me get this straight, if I let you live here without paying any money in rent you’ll give me your freshly worn panties every single day, including two pairs a week that you’ve cummed in, plus every month you’ll give me a video of you playing with yourself?” Kshitiz asked.“That’s the. Any excuse to leave would do but the truth. In the fog of building grief, I dressed and gathered my belongings before escaping to the long corridor and then to my car. The human psyche can take only so much. I sat in in the parking garage of that hotel and I burst into my own deluge of tears and weeping. My body heaved with grief and gut wrenching sobs deep from where the intimate soul abides. There is nothing like it really. The wail of grief is a heart stricken sound, one usually reserved for. " She continued for a moment, and then with one hand she let her nails caress back and forth and then down, over my tummy, and smoothly down to my pubic hair and then straight to my root, and then she let her fingertips trail down the length of my cock and then she held it with a slight pull, and I closed my eyes, sighing. She let go of me, shuffling away from me a little so that her head was lower in my lap. Then she craned her neck forward and put her lips on my tummy, below my navel, and. Ohyes, when the cable bill came due, he really missed those. He wasprobably still living off them, come to think of it.But he wasn't principal anymore. That fake righteous bitch SharmaPramod was. When he'd finally gotten caught after 20 years, her shapelyass had been first in line to take his place, and with her sleek bodand wits, not to mention minority status, she'd taken his job assmoothly as pulling a candy cane out of a baby's fist and replacing itwith a sweet little curry puff.That's what.