Me: “Okay I am sorry. Should I fall on your feet?”Shoba: “I don’t want anyone to do that nor will I do. I have self-respect. I was never open ...ith anyone but you. I think I shouldn’t have come here.”She pretended like she was leaving and took off from the sofa. I hugged her from behind which got her shell-shocked. She froze with an open mouth and turned around.Shoba: “What are you doing? Is this how you treat a girl who trusts you and comes to your house?”Me: “What did I do? I just tried to. I crawled towards her as her had rose quickly to help me out of my own pants. I wondered for a moment if she had done this before as her hand worked its way down parting my lips, finding me already turned on she smiled. Still on my hands and knees I got lost for a moment in the sensations she was creating. The tip of her finger was sliding easily around the opening as she kept pulling her hand backwards dragging it across my clit. I had forgotten for the moment this was reciprocal but. There was a long leather couch along the wall to my left, a box of tissues on the end table, and a standing brass lamp next to the table. His dark mahogany desk was placed against the wall at a right angle to the couch, and his leather reclining chair was pulled away from the desk and facing the couch. He stood with his back to me, about six feet tall, lean, with blond clean cut hair. He was facing the bay window overlooking Sacramento St, his hand in his pocket, idly flipping what I presumed. ”“What about Mrs. Gleason? We certainly can’t do this when she’s here.”‘This’ was caressing my shaft and rolling the foreskin up and down. True, I didn’t think Mrs. Gleason would understand.“I’m sure I’ll think of something. Let’s not worry about that. We still have a few more days together.”“We know, and that’s what we are sad about.”That evening, prior to midnight, both girls were in bed with me. Fresh sperm was flowing from their well enjoyed pussies, coating my sheets with sperm tracks..