Maasi bra me thi jiska sirf ek hook laga hua tha.Braseller- dikhaiye mam . Tight to lag rahi hai pr ek br me try kar leta hu aur wo doosra button laga...e laga wo bohot tight thi isliye doosra button bhi toot gaya aur bra khul gayi pr giri nahi . Side boobs dikhne lage. Massi ne unse kaha aap bahar jaiye me change karke aati huBraseller- to apko doosri size deta hu ap wo try kijiye or braseller ( naam manoj) bahr gaya doosri bra lene or maasi ko bahar se hi hath dalkr di. Maasi ne wo pehni .Maasi. She was the perfect match for me. We chatted for the whole day and evening. Then I asked for her number. We talked and had a great phonesex. I could sense her desperation for manly love over the phone. After a couple of days of online chatting, we decided to meet. She asked me if I wanted her to wear anything of my choice. I asked her to wear a saree and put some kajal in the eyes! She told me to tell her guard that I’m a delivery boy. I sensed her naughtiness and left for her home. My heart. We were sitting on her deck, so she led me inside and suggested that what she had to show me was probably best viewed in the bedroom. Okay – we continued into the bedroom and Stacy suggested that I have a seat on the bed. What could this be? Stacy went out of the bedroom and returned with a small box – a Priority Mail box – and she handed it to me.“I ordered something from e-Bay and I wanted you to be here to open it with me!” Stacy said, with as much excitement as a kid with a new toy. “Go. She listened patiently, and asked a few questions. When I got to the part where I explained how impossible it would be for a sixteen year old boy to amass a quantity of the right kind of pictures, and how I had noticed that, within my own genetic pool, there existed a wide variety of breast sizes, she smiled, but it wasn’t a mean smile.“So you’ve been checking us out,” she said.“Only for scientific purposes,” I blushed.“Yeah ... right,” she said, still smiling.“Mostly,” I whined.“At least.