Master, please fuck me!”I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Goddamn, I love you.”I didn’t give her any warning. Instead, I simply drov... into her in a single perfect shot. She moaned at the top of her lungs, as outside, all the girls held their breath. They had been told what it meant to play, but actually seeing it was something else altogether. I had fully penetrated her womanhood; her hot, wet interior smothering my cock, as if trying to both trap me inside and push me out. I grabbed. Then there came this woman who introduced herself as Simran aged 33 years.I just got an email saying “Hey Madhan I loved reading your story”. Then started our conversation she said that she is actually fromBangaloree and her husband works for some mnc here in hHyderabadand have a 3-year-old kid.So we used to speak, she generally would chat on Gmail and didn’t want to move further and I too thought she might be afraid of sharing her identity.We used to speak about almost everything and anything. .Yes to be fair,the order had been reversed so that those that had waitedthe longest the day before, were to go first. In their ownnative tribal language it had been called wakinga blubafuba, which translated means THE TEMPLE OF ASS FUCKING!So next I was laid with my stomach carefully positionedand supported over that small wooden temple while my handswere snugly bound in a soft mossy kind of vine. Yes bent over,defenseless and quite ready, I was simply an object of pleasureso the new breed of. And she did so still cursing her daughters and their evil ways.Her will, the girls learned to their surprise, was merely an extension of her attitudes toward them. They were not to receive a penny of the old lady's money until they were nineteen years of age.That was the first stipulation, and not too strange.The second was different. If they weren't married, and pregnant, and settled down by that time, all the money was to go to charity.Since the girls had been able to survive so far on their.