The touch was soft; hand small; a woman. From her experience, Sara knew that the ladies were usually kinkier than the men. She held her breath, as tha... soft hand kneaded her tits. Her puffy, pink nipples were poking through the netting of her shirt; easy access. She squealed, when the woman pinched her nubs hard, and then pulling on them. The stranger tugged on them, until they burned and were hard enough to cut glass. As suddenly as she grabbed them, she let go, leaving Sara wondering what was. Artwork graced the walls. The furnishings revealed that no children lived there. Patrice directed her guests to the sofa with her hand before taking a seat in the chair opposite. The three of them just looked at each other for a few minutes, the shock of the moment keeping them spellbound. A clock ticked in the distance, marking the passage of time. Patrice’s eyes diverted to Fran’s left hand for confirmation before breaking the silence. Waving her hand at them, ‘You two are married, right?’. But those didn’t get me anywhere. What made my dream come true was an accident.Since it is Diwali, everyone takes an oil bath. Ever since I could remember, my mom used to apply oil and bathe us (me, my sister, and dad) in Diwali. The oil needs to be washed properly from the bodies. She bathes after she has bathed and washed us.So I was the last to bathe after my dad and my sister. I went into the bathroom, sat on a bath stool in my brief, and prayed to control my boner. My mom was standing. I’d seen her do it before.Several girls who were boxed after she went into the box were already finished. Barbara was frustrated because she wasn’t used to being the last choice in anything, even if it was to have bean bags thrown it her. Uncle Evil tried to convince Master Lamont to throw. She was literally the last one left, and my mother was in the lead to win the contest.He declined and sat back with his arms crossed like he was a King on his throne.“You are the only black guy that doesn’t.