Tears in eyes. Fighting with lust. Just one fleeting kiss and yet...“Impressive, isn't it? Still wanna go home and miss out on this? Not curious if ... can keep a promise? The fuck of your life in, uh, three minutes now.”Her eyes roaming over his entire face, seeking something to hold on to. He hears her heavily swallow. Tears of hatred. Tears of inner turmoil. Tears of regret. Decision taken long ago.“Fine, then,” she hisses. Turns around, slides her leggings down mid-thigh. Bends over,. It’s posted on www.indiansexstories.net and for those who couldn’t find it I will be glad to send those personally on request through my email id [email protected] you have to just mail me.So let’s go back to the story. You read how I fortunately got a chance to make love with Mrs. Sharma and now I welcome everyone back to the sequel of my first story.Part 2: MaidAfter my experience with Mrs. Sharma I felt really shameless towards women thinking that anyone would enjoy sex with me and no. "They didn't do this to Dent when he was here, let alone one of his slaves." You're much more than just one of his slaves and you know it," Sosho added. "Besides I think it's that aura of calm, detached leadership you exude around them." That's ridiculous," Nesho said with somewhat less vehemence. "I exude no such thing." Well, not when you have your tongue in Shasta's pussy, your hands on my tits and Clarise's fingers in your cunt and butt-hole," Sosho agreed. "Then you're exuding something. It was on this basis that SES had learned over the decades it could safely ignore interpersonal dynamics within the crews of its vessels and select the members randomly from its pool of eligibles—with, to the point of the Gardener's voyage, complete success. What SES overlooked in the case of the Gardener, however, was that its crew was neither randomly selected nor whol­ly dedicated to a common goal.Past missions had been comprised entirely of scientifically oriented supercargo supported by a.