Toh sab koi chala gya toh sham ka waqt tha toh mai neha didi ka sath unka ghar chala thora dur tha toh unka pass scotter tha usmai beithkar aur apna k...pda laker toh jab mai scooty mai bethie didi mera agge bethie thi toh scotty chala rhi thi ki acchnak mera lund kahda ho gya aur acchnak mujhe accha lagna lagaPhir maine apna aap ko control ki aur socha didi hai phir hmlog ghar poucha didi na mujhe kaha jaker fresh ho jaa mai dinner banna leti hua maine kaha thik hai toh mai did ka bethroom ka. ’ ‘Naw, man, you’re brainwashed – look at you, you’re all pale and shit-‘ ‘I’ve been indoors a lot.’ ‘FUCK that, man!’ and now sandy-blond pulls up his knife, just in time to loose his arm at the wrist, and his head at the jawline. The body tumbles to the ground, the severed hand still clutching the knife, the face frozen in creases of anger. Cypress wipes the blade quickly with a cloth before returning it to his staff. He turns to the other men. ‘Anyone else?’ The others don’t look at. This is my first submission and so there could be some mistakes. Please give me suggestions and feedback so that I can improve on narrating my stories better going forward. Also, I would write only the true stories, without adding any extra spice, and so in some cases, the stories might be a bit lengthy or boring. So please bear with me. Please feel free to write to me and give your feedback at .About me: I am Rohit from Bangalore, 38 yr old, working as a software engineer for an MNC. I am. She pulled her knees up toward her chest, and as she did so, she felt the residual stickiness coating her thighs… and her vagina. Cautiously she reached a hand down, touching her thighs with her fingertips, then bringing her fingers to her face. She smelled like sex. Not masturbation, no, there was the distinct smell of a man mingled with the scent of her own fragrant juices. ‘Ugh… what did I do?’ she moaned, suddenly slightly panicked. She tried to remember. She remembered the day, how she had.