She stood up and walked to the bathroom door. I was starring contemplating what she would do. She closed the bathroom door, bent over grabbing the doo... knob for support. She looked back at me from the side and said ‘what are you waiting for, are you going to leave me here just waiting’? I stood up and walked towards her touching myself. I placed my dick on the lower part of her back so she could feel how warm it was ‘hmmmm…. Hmmmm.. that feels good’ she exclaimed. I was building up the mood for. Maine kaha boliye or koi scheme chahiye wo boli apne muje number kyu diya ? Maine kaha maine likha tha sirf apne liya kyu? Boliye main apki kya seva kar shakta hun. Boli phone per hi seva karenge? Maine bola aap jaisa kaho . Wo boli milo kahi maine kaha ok jaisa tum kaho kahan mile wo boli jamangar se bahar kahin . Kal subah junagadh zoo me maine kaha ok .Dusre din subah 9.30 baje main junagadh sakkarbaug me gaya thodider bitha mere phone ring baji maine receive kiya samne krishna thi boli kaha. She returned with the drinks and Zak took a large gulp, the whisky searing his throat before shakily placing it on a side table. She took a sip of her drink, placed it at the side of his, then stood in front and over him, one leg at either side. The construction work in Zak’s jeans was now fully complete and on show, clearly visible under the denim, his cock straining against the material. He leant forward, and placed both hands behind her knees. Then, bending forward slightly, he bent forward. Understandably too, no kind of description, no purplish flourish of the quill can adequately convey the agony man felt dear reader about this, his already fractured ,bruised, bleeding heart exploding into more resentment and seething fury. That last glimmer of belief, staunchly shining in the total dark was wholly & completely snuffed -no more pleas, no more entreaties or silent prayers by bedsides kneeling, no ‘God bless’ christening sneezes or candle lit remembrance, no more nights spent.
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