Fir main chachi ki tango k beech me ake beth gaya or unki raswali choot ko dekhne laga maine bhi chachi ke chutar ko dono haton se pakar liya aur unki...gand sahalate hue unki ras bhari choot ko chumne laga. Chachi ki choot ki pyari-pyari khusbu mere dimag me chane laga. Mai diwana ki tarah bhabhi ki choot aur uske charo taraf ke elake ko chumne laga. Bich-bich me mai apni jeev nikal kar chachi ki rano ko bhi chat leta. Chachi mastee se bhar kar siskaree lete hue bole, “hai sahil ahhhhh! Jeev se. Kreider who admonished me that the principal would frown upon me going behind her desk to look at her legs), Mrs Heck replied, Thanks they are long and slender (!). I looked down and started openly leering at them. She then started talking about her husband and grown son as if to shock me out of my desire but that only made me hornier. She also mentioned her church and how the black reverend at her church had a white wife (this still mystifies me that she said this!). Eventually our talk wore. I figured there was no harm in getting some more details, and asked her some more questions about it, which she answered. It seemed that talking about it helped because she was really amazed at how nice I was about the whole thing, and how good of a listener I was being. She even made a little joke about how I wasn’t even looking at her cleavage. In my defence, I totally was looking but not so much that I’d get caught. I mean, unless her nipples came out, there isn’t exactly a whole lot. My kind of San Francisco: misty, mysterious, the scent of salt water in the air, foghorns in the background, cable car bells in the distance. I left Green St. and headed downhill on Jones St. toward the Embarcadero. At any moment I expected Sam Spade to step out of the shadows. He didn't, but a few moments later, a young woman in her twenties did. Our paths crossed briefly as she got into her car, an old beat-up Volkswagen. She had a bouncy, feminine walk and a pony tail both of which I.