That was nice, I thought; let me try it again. I tried it again. As my lips touched his head, I whispered, so softly that I almost couldn't hear my ow... voice, 'I love you.'That brought him halfway to consciousness. His smile returned, and responded in an equally soft voice, 'I love you too'. But his deep sigh told me that he wasn't yet fully awake. His hand reached out and touched my leg, at knee level. The hand began to rub the leg up and down. On paper, it would have looked like the chart of. Me ek ladke se pyar karti the wo musalman tha uska name salim tha dikhne me ek dam hot and gora tha me use bahut he pasand karti the me uske piche pagal thi mene samne se propose kiya to usne muje reject kar diya phir bhi me tray karti rahe wo muje reject karta gaya me guse me aa gaye mere hi sco me ek ladka raheta tha jiska name tarun tha wo muje like karta tha and wo bhi dikhne me smart tha me usko ignor karti the . Phir muje ek idea aaya ki me tarun ko ha kahu sayad muje uske sath dekh ke wo. I shocked myself by not trying to cover up at all; it was too late anyhow.The towel she had around her was barely just long enough to cover her perfect round ass and blossoming tits. She was standing not 10 feet away, staring at my big, angry red cock which, although I had stopped stroking, continued to bob up and down with my now quickening pulse.I felt I didn't have any control over what happened after that. It was like an out-of-body experience. Someone else -- someone evil and dirty who. There was a small workshop behind the building where artisans and masons would shape and polish the blocks for use in kitchens or bathrooms and on some occasions, though not often enough for Kristy’s liking, sculptures and fountains. She loved the cold feel of the marble and granite blocks even in their raw state but more than anything she loved the myriad of colours and patterns they held. The guys in the workshop would often polish up small pieces from the off-cuts to create pebbles for her.