Mai samay smay pr wha jata tha lekin himmtnhi padti thi ek bar ki bat hai jb mai apne uncle k yha gya to khushi nedarwaja khola wo turnt hi nhayi hui ...hi uske badan se gajab ki khusbu aa rhithi wo mujhe dekhker khus ho gyi maine pucha aur sb kha hai to usne bataya papamummy khi gyi hui h dono bahne bajar gyi h 1 ghnte bad ayegi mai fresh hua aurbat krne lga bat kte krte mai uska sir sahlane lga wo kuch nhiBoli mujhe bahut acha lg rha tha mai srsahlate sahlate ungliya uske gardan pr apni ungliya. I don’t know why my head chooses to vex me with vile images of their bodies entangled in sheets. But it does. Probably, a way of telling me of why I should let my love go. Nothing inherently new. My stubborn thinker refuses to allow me peace of mind while my heart feels as it does, and it seems hell bent on making me sick to my stomach with imaginations of moans of pleasure and roaming hands. As much as I try to block these images from my mind, I always find my way back to hating this woman for. He made sure that I had not told my friends where I was going to be and that no one was allowed to come by. Got it.I had the key in the office lock as his car was just pulling out of the driveway. I had the place to myself until Tuesday morning. Inside the desk drawer were some new DVD's, one of which was unlabeled. I put that one in the DVD player on his 27 inch Mac and hit play. This was different, it was an HD home movie and it was being shot in the office I was sitting in. Mr. Brown started. With the wall cold against my shoulders, there comes a stab of discomfort as a third finger enters me; a fourth. I can't keep my balance – the world is distorted under the yellow streetlamp, with my ankles bound by my trousers and no hands to steady myself, my muscles aching and the white light of pleasure from my prostate where my lover's hand is kneading inside me. I'm squealing now; quietly behind my gag I've lost control amongst the pleasure and the pain, and suddenly I can breathe through.