For almost as long as she had lived here, Desirée had been coming to visit the pretty bleach-blonde thirty-year-old at least twice a week, and ...hey were fast friends. The only thing that Desirée didn't particularly like about the older woman had been her liaison with Clete, for she could never quite get over her aversion to interracial romances. She, Desirée, could never be so involved, and the idea of her friend's doing it put her off. But then Clete and Liz had split up. I walked towards her, grabbed her by her hair and kissed her. After a few moments, I started to run my hands over her back.She was wearing a saree. I moved my hands all over her trembling body. I kissed down her neck as I undid her blouse. She just stood there with her eyes closed, shaking. I took off her blouse and unhooked her bra. I threw them down on the floor and started licking her plump breasts.They were bigger than my wife’s and soft. I swirled my tongue around her brown nipples. I bit. "Why not?" I think I know what you want to see."Her hands slid under the hem of her t-shirt, stayed there for a second, and then pulled it up slowly, revealing a lack of panties and something more. I was impressed with what she had shown me, especially her wet pussy, but at the same time, I felt cheated. All this damsel-in-distress crap was a lie. Her ankle wasn't injured. She had lied to me, plain and simple."I have to go," I said dryly and turned to leave.Her hand shot up and grabbed. When I started moving out of my hometown for higher studies she started crying. I had to console her saying, “I must study in a better college and get a good job to make her proud.”From my childhood, I had developed a sense of liking for the fashion. So, I joined NIFT (Hyderabad) to pursue my long cherished dream of becoming a fashion designer. During my graduation, I developed a sexual desire for elder women. I used to spend a lot of time reading sex stories and especially incest.I slowly.