“Fine.” She peeled off her blouse and stepped out of her skirt, challenging him with her chocolate eyes as she stood there in her lacy bra and pan...ies and a pair of pull up stockings. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at her. He reminded of her a cat playing with its food and as he shook his head, lifting a pre-packed sandwich from the table and dangling it in front of her, she slowly peeled off her bra, the swell of her small breasts bouncing free, her large, puckered nipples. ”Feeling incredibly erotic, I complied. My fingers opened my lips, they weren’t as big as Sophies, but I had always thought they were pretty.“Wider and lean back, I want to see right inside. Now stick your fingers inside, and I’ll do the same,” after a moment, “that looks good, but I can’t see you, not all of you. Will you go and lay down, so we can watch each other wanking together.”I had got myself off watching her earlier, but now she was also watching me, and that was something else. I felt. Call me Zeke. Or 'Streak.' And, yes, it's a convenient time for you to call." Okay, Zeke. I'll try. Arlie gave me a copy of your autobiography. It's absorbing and beautifully written. May I ask? Did you have a ghost writer?" I had an excellent editor," Zeke said, "but, no, no ghost writer. It's essentially my own writing, as improved, as I said, by an excellent editor." Well, I'm not even a dedicated fan, and I really enjoyed it. It's probably the first sports-related book I've ever read from. Naha ke towel me hi nikla, di poochi nasta laga du mai bola aapke saath hi kar lunga boli karlo tab tak mai bhi naha lu.Mai bola ok unhone nasta diya aur boli chai peeni ho to bana lena maine phir pyama pehna aur nasta karne laga wo towel le ke bathroom me chali gayee thi.Mera nasta ho chukka tha , bathroom ke darwaje ke nazdeek ja ke poocha aapne chai peeni hai boli banale thori si , mai chai banana laga, wo naha ke sirf towel me bahar aa gayee thi, unki aadhi gaand dikh rahi thi , chai bana.