Her expression was now more one of joy, her face always smiling, her grim scowl banished, her demeanour more communicative. And she now wore skin hug...ing blue cotton trousers with a woollen v-neck jersey. The trousers clearly outlined long slim legs and fuller buttocks, and the jersey clung appealingly to her breasts. This alternated with a pair of jodhpurs, close fitting that displayed muscular thighs, and above a slim waist, her t-shirts showed a moderately well formed bust, a long. I love to wear mini skirts that show off my long slender legs and firm, muscular thighs, with nothing on under them except for a skimpy g-string. I love to wear thin cotton blouses open to show a lot of cleavage. I never wear a bra. I haven’t worn a bra since my titties became big enough and firm enough to fill my blouses out without help. My mother, a very sexy lady in her own right, always told me as I was growing up, “if you have it, flaunt it,” and at forty, I still had it. People that. Mar jaungi… nahi.. Ese bolti rahi.. Mujhe b dard ho raha tha per jab mere lund ka tip ander gaya tab mujhe rahat mili nd mein wohi ruk gaya to wo b shant ho gayi.. Then mene dhire dhire aage piche karne laga… Wo b oyi maa … Ohh… Aaaao… Aaaaaah… karne lagi… Fir jab saab thik ho gaya ishka dard kam hua mene or ander karne laga… Wo b ushke per ko upere utha ke or ander karne ke lie bolne lagi. Tab mene pura ghusa dia. Wo fir mujhe hug karne lagi. Then mene raftar badhaya or ushka chikhna b suru. It was the final straw and I started to sob, years of pain and sadness flowed from me as I held her in my arms.Eventually it had to end and I lifted my head to look at her again. I could see that she had been crying too."You're here? You're really here? How long?" I steeled myself for the answer; knowing that the respite from anguish was only temporary, but needing to know so I could prepare myself."As long as you'll have me, if you still do, that is." There's never been anyone else." I know.