In her mind, she crafted the perfect man. He was tall, dark and handsome. His hair was as black as coal and his eyes as blue as the clear summer sky w...en there was not a cloud in site. The way he walked had purpose. His confidence radiating from his body like steam from a hot bowl of grits. He was educated and challenged her intellectually. She needed a real conversation. A two year old, while precious, could only say so much. He had to be passionate. He needed to match her stroke for strode. Often, as I squirmed under his teasing, he'd say: "If you want to come, you're going to have to do ALL the work. Understand? Whether you do or don't, is not up to me. It's up to YOU." He'd be smiling as he said such things, and he'd be saying that just moments before was close to ejaculating (which he could sense); and then, just at the point where I was as close as I could come to having an orgasm---Richard would just stop stroking and teasing my cock! Those were the moments that were both. “This isn’t the time for farting about.”He pressed forward and it slid inside her. She had unbuttoned her blouse while he had been licking her and her bra was pushed up, revealing breasts as firm as they had appeared when concealed by clothes, and nipples as erect as his mind had imagined many a night while lying alone in his bed. But he wasn’t alone now. Reaching out, he felt their hardness, rubbing them with his palms as he started to thrust in and out. She lay back, moaning with pleasure. He. One day during weekend when I was smoking in the terrace, landlords wife came to dry out her clothes and I threw the cigarette and smiled at her and she smiled back and I asked where was her daughter so she said that she is sleeping and we chit chatted for few minutes and as she was drying the clothes, her navel hole was visible from her saree and my eyes couldn’t resist seeing it and when she bent to take clothes from the bucket “her ass would be widened and my urge was to fuck her in that.