He finger-fucks me as my responsive movements bring waves around us. Experienced fingers find my g-spot and the trees absorb my high-pitched cries.He ...eaves no place untouched before his thumb finds my most sensitive spot. I buck my hips wildly, raising my ass all the way out of the water at times, before plunging beneath its wetness again. My tummy tightens. The slow build that has been so carefully crafted throughout the day is reaching its peak. I cum, loudly crying out. He pulls me into. Even outside the dojo, he often sought my advice.He was, in many ways, an unpolished diamond and I felt privileged to teach him. He just had this way of making me smile and happy to see him.That day, since he was alone, he insisted I don't hold back with my warm-up program. He knew I'm a merciless coach and my warm-ups are tough and that's one more reason why I enjoyed working with him so much. Like the little masochist he was, he used to jump at every chance of asking me to break him. I really. .Janu chus mera chut..Chus chus k sare ras kha ja tu aj…Kuch bachna nahi chea…Phir mai pagolo k tarha chuste raha…Khub chusa…Bahat chusaaa…Chus chus k pagol kar dea didi ko..Phir didi ne bola…Goutammmm…..Or raha nahi ja raha hai…Mera chut mai ag jal raha hai..Bujha de pls… Mai phir khara lund didi k chut ke samne set kea..Achanak rakhi dor k aya or mere lund mu le kar chus ne lagi..Boli didi ruko ..Lund ko thora or sakktisali bana du…Phir 5 min chusne k bad mai ne didi k chut mai lund. By now, my own mental reaction to what I'd been doing, how I'd been acting, and what I'd found myself contemplating doing for Miss had changed from excited, fearful anticipation to unbelief - almost to a kind of disgust at myself for allowing my wants, my desires, even the fabric of my life to fall under the sway of a woman I didn't know, no matter how lovely. It was like I was slowly remembering my own actions the morning after a night of drunken debauchery, feeling disgusted with myself..