I take a long stare into the depths of your eyes, communicating with your soul. I know how much I want you – but I don’t want to have sex with you... I want to make love to you. Making love transcends pure sex, when the pleasure of giving is much greater and important than the pleasure of receiving. I know all I want is to hear you groan, to feel you writhe in prolonged and repeated ecstasy. Nothing else is important – I want to make your body sing, I want to make love to your mind. My pleasure. Maine bola apne kaha tha ki mai jo chahai wo kar sakta hu….. wo boli mere raja… apki jaise marzi…. magar pyaar se karna..Uski gaand bahut mulayam thi aur ek dam saaf lekin uska ched bahut chota tha maine apni chheb se chat chat kar use khola aur jab wo itna khul gaya tou maine apne lund ke tope ko uski gaand par rkha aur usko meri taraf aane ko bola…. usne apne dono hath meri gardan se jhakd liye aur maine apne ex hath se uski chuchiyo yo ragadna shuru kiya…. aisa karte karte wo garam huyi aur. "We met at the club,” she said sniffing. He just sat there on the bed staring at her. She got up, dropping the sheet. He was so lost he didn't even look at her body. "You don't remember? We had a few drinks and came back up here. My god the sex! You were so good and you don't remember? You shit!" Her voice got louder. She gathered up her clothing and held it in front of her, including a key card from the nightstand. "I don't fucking believe this. You seemed like such a great guy until. .. and I was alone in the bed. I could, however, just hear the sound of the shower, so I followed my ears and my inclinations to the bathroom."Can I join you?" I asked.Her response was, "Do you need to ask?" Always," I said. "I never want to take you for granted." Then, yes ... please do."She washed me, thoroughly; I returned the favour – quite unnecessarily, of course, though she certainly wasn't complaining – but as is the way of such things, we were about to make ourselves in need of another.