When she used to come to our place as I was all alone and the mind when you are free it goes really dirty and the same happened to me when she used to...do her own daily cores I used to quietly sit and watch her hip movements, the sexy jumping and bulging of her boobs while wiping the floor. It was all too sexy. On the third day it so happened that it came to our place wearing tight fitting pink top and a black skirt which was just about knee length she was looking very pretty I was just stunned. I paid the driver and went to the train station. Many people knew me here as ‘ganjee’ it means baniyan in bengali. There’s a story behind that, but not now. The train arrived and I got on the general compartment, as I never took the ladies compartment, even when the general would be jam packed with ruffians and sweaty perverts who won’t waste 2 seconds to fuck me right there! that day it was quite empty as it was only 2:15 in the afternoon. I stood at the door to soak the wet cloth of my. He reached in his pocket, found a piece of paper on which he furiously scribbled some notes, thought it over, decided there was a fallacy in his idea, and threw the piece of paper away. At the end of the day he went home (to the old address in Cambridge, of course). When he got there he realized that they had moved, that he had no idea where they had moved to, and that the piece of paper with the address was long gone. Fortunately inspiration struck. There was a young girl on the street and he. He then started his usual in an out of my lips then back down against my larynx again an again. every now an then he'd check to see if I was okay. what was not to like here I had my lover top of me his big dick using my mouth my hands enjoying ever inch of his flesh. his balls resting over my eyes and nose.. again an again his cock rose an again forcefully driven to the back of my throat. (" get ready to swallow") he thrust his hard cock right into my throat an experience I never had from.