Jab bhi Madan apne land ka dhakka uski gand me lagata, ladka dard ke maare dhire dhire chillata tha. Wo bahut hi pyara sa aur sundar ladka tha. Uski g...nd chhoti si thi par bahut hi pyari lag rahi thi gol gol. Us ladke ka lund gulabi rang ka tha. Ladke ka lund mota nahi tha par lamba tha. Maine dekha ki Madan ka lund bhi koi mota nahi tha par phir bhi us ladke ko gand marwane me dard ho raha tha. Us ladle ka lund mujhe poora dikh raha tha kyon ki wo ghodi bana hua tha aur madan peeche se uski. I trust you to be smart and creative enough to come up with your own interpretation of which is which as you read it! Enjoy!-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------A Conversation Begins-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------A conversation, just like any other, starts with the ‘hellos’. DAY 6 Saturday John was always an early riser and today was no different, except today he had the tingles to add to his rise. Linda has never complained about John’s morning rise and like to take advantage of it when time permitted. They had been cuddling and caressing each other until Linda knew she was ready for him. She rolled over to be on top, pulling the sheet over her to keep out the morning chill, and reaching between them guided him into the target hole. Linda was already breathing. My eyes wandered slowly back up and met hers: direct, unwavering, crystal clear blue. A tiny smile played over her lips bringing a blush to my cheeks. She looked back to the menu only to glance back towards me again, this time never averting her eyes as she let her gaze travel my length. Our eyes met, gently at first, then stronger - never flickering. The soft smoothness of her dress suddenly broken by the swelling of her nipples. Her teeth bit gently into her lower lip as she drew her breath.