.kon si color ka hai..ye to batao.Mom: what color..its cream..par tum ye sab kya karwa rahe ho mujhse.Me: Pls be with me na..batao na kya kar rahi ho?...om: nthing, locking the door (I heard the door being locked next room)Me: Hmm..bolti raho na pls..kya kar rahi ho..I want to hear.Mom: are kuch nahi baba..opening my saree..Me: hmm..(I started imagining the scene)She was wearing a red saree today, she must be opening it, which will leave her with only the blouse and the petticoat. All this was. You, me, even Father in his white halls, are all simply sad little wooden dolls, set in motion with strings. We are following a made up script and you still think it’s true!’ I moved back into his face. ‘I have no memory of the beginning!’ At his shocked face I grinned. ‘In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. Do you remember any of that? No, not any? How about when I was cast out from heaven? Any real memories of that? No? And neither have I, but it would seem that would be a. " He leaned down and pushedhis lips against her tit, he licked and stroked the nipple with histongue. As he did so she grabbed his cock and flexed her hand over it."Ugh... " Doug's breath skipped a beat. More firmly now he kissed herbreasts. He suckled and with his hands he undid his belt. He pulled histrousers and his underwear down around his ankles and then he started tourgently pull at the buttons on his shirt. He moved his lips up to herneck and began kissing her throat, then her. "Why do you cry, little one?" I looked up tears still coming down. And there I saw the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on. He was tall. Looking about 6 feet. His head nearly touching the ceiling. He had black messy, spiky hair. His eyes...like the clearest blue pools you could ever see. His lips were slightly puffed but not enough to create a feminine look. He had a slight scruffle, like he hadn't shaved in a week or two. He wore a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans. He wasn't.