Mai peeta rha uski jwaani….Kaan pr piche gardan par…Ulte kaan par….Fir…Gardan par..Or vo rasile hoth aaye….Lga rha mai bhi…Un pyalo par…...eeta rha..Peetha rha ..Or fir ek dum jaise josh me aakar maine vo top nikal diya or apni t-shirt..Fir hamre ang ang se mile….Or ek ajib si lhr dono ke tan badan me chaa gyi…Dono ko hosh na tha..Bas ek dusre ko -pyaar kr rhe the….Maine uso plta..Or uski kamar par apne hoth rake uski to siski nikal aayi..Aahahaahah…Maine uski bra nikal di…Or vo kaatil boobs mere. Calves were branded. Steers and some cows were selected for market while the remaining herd was split up and moved to different parts of the ranch. This practice had been going on for nearly 100 years. It was how the ranch maintained the quality of its herds.Martha had worried about what to feed the dignitaries when they converged on the ranch. She had planned to get fancy with rib eye steaks, baked potatoes, canned vegetables from her garden, and yeast rolls. The conversation with Udit. The curvy, light-skinned Somalian princesses. The regal Ethiopian ladies. The amazing Trinidadian gals. Yeah, all kinds of pretty young Black women from everywhere. Unfortunately for me, they don't seem to notice that I exist. Even though I'm a defence man on the University of Montreal men's varsity soccer team, I'm a nerd at heart. And I look the part. Thick glasses. Oh, and I major in Computer Science. I come from a long line of nerds. My father Etienne Joseph teaches computer science at La. This time, Mansi gasped harder for air. I poured more wine into her glass.‘Mansi, drink your wine. I will not put my cock in your mouth. You can rest assured of that.’Mansi nodded and sipped her wine.A few minutes later, I asked Mansi to remove her pants and panties so that she would be completely naked. Mansi finished her glass of wine, stood up and removed all her clothes.I stared down her body and noticed that her pussy was clean shaven, something I asked for.I poured more wine into Mansi’s.