I've gotten used to it. Pussy is the living proof of the ol' saying, "Once you've had XoXoDack, you'll never go back!"When I first met Pussy, she was ...orking for one of the big trading zaibatsus — MitsuMitsubSumi — placing cargos for shipping. They had their own transports for the major runs, but used indyshippers like me for the more out of the way, and one-timer trips.Not to mention the trips that were either too dangerous or illegal for their own wimpy captains.I didn't fall into the "wimpy". I could gather that they were in Goa for a bachelorette and the four of them were waiting for their married friend to come from Delhi. I heard them discussing about their plans to visit the popular spots Curliest, Titos, LPK and bikini dresses… the usual stuff. They talked about the bikini waxes and how sex on the beach would be fun, and that caught my attention. I realized these girls were from Ahmedabad and was not used to such trips. I tried to steal glances at them and my eyes often met one. She was now moving my rod in up and down motion by both hands. She said “Common on u can do much better than this common make me feel like a slave getting punished in a hard way. C’mon mount me on please”. I then moved her legs apart by both my hands and was kneeling between her legs ready to push the 8 1/2 inch shaft in her love hole. I moved the rod half in to her and she cried out as that hole was not closed for last five years. I slowly started moving it in and out. But the sex kitten was. It was the thought of running that got me started for the door. After a few months of pounding the bricks, I was addicted, and that addiction had stayed with me even though I wasn't, strictly speaking, me. The girl in the mirror looked determined as I turned and headed for the front door. I remembered to snag an apartment key and secreted it in the little pocket on the side of the shorts. It was a good thing, too, because I wasn't even down the stairs before I realized that I was going to.