He bent forward until his nose touched the hairs on the man's balls and took a big whiff. He then ran his nose up the rod and smelled the dark, plum-s...zed head of the man's foot long clock. The head was leaking a tremendous amount of pre-cum and he bent towards it until the pre-cum touched his nose.Bill nuzzled the head of the man's peni. He found his lips parting, his tongue flickering out to touch the head, slowly at first then increasing until it was swirling all over the tip of the man's. That bastard never gives up.’ He looked back at me. ‘Get off the freeway.’ ‘We just got on,’ I protested. ‘Just get off the fucking freeway!’ he shouted. ‘Do what I fucking tell you!’ There was a hint of real fear in his voice. He must have been nervous, because he moved his seat even further back and grabbed my purse. ‘Just take the money,’ I said. ‘Please. There should be enough in there for you to…’ ‘Shut up.’ He opened my wallet and took the cash. Then he stared at my license. ‘How the hell. I stared at her and wondered, ‘what you are expecting?’ Her outfit: mere black leggings and a tank top variation of sorts that brazenly drew attention to a line of cleavage, where I struggled not leer. It could have been my imagination, but she seemed to have noticed. She looked down and played with the hemming at the front. Drawing it down then pressing her breasts together from the sides with smooth slender arms. Her eyes then darted at me and I exhaled…’I guess I hadn’t been breathing’… I. “Oh, yes. I know Kumar. How are you Mr….?” she asked.“I am Mr. Veeresh. But I want to talk to you about his lunch. He complains that you have been eating most of his lunch. May I know why you keep doing this?” I asked rather politely, trying to hide my anger.“I am so sorry, Mr. Veeresh. You know I don’t get to eat South Indian dishes like dosas, idlis, vadas, rice and sambar, Upma, and all that wonderful stuff. I just can’t control myself when I see those dishes in Kumar’s lunchbox. I am sorry.