India Desi 6

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"Is this good?" he asked me.I thought, okay, you fucking psycho, you can't just pick up one of my CDs at random and ask me about it to make friends with me because I am the only person in sight who's even near your age. My brain sometimes thinks in long sentences.Before I could respond- I like to think I would have told him to fuck off creatively, even though I most likely would have just said yeah, and made a grudging friendship- he said, "This is the band Guy Picciotto was in before Fugazi." Didn't ask, just said. He even pronounced Guy's name- first and last- right. I was surprised. "Yeah, it's awesome," I said. "Y'know, not as good as Fugazi, but nobody really is, right?"He smiled and put out his hand for me to shake. "Word," he said, "My name's Thom." Hey, I'm Buster," I said. For some reason I always said this, and smirked."Really?" No. My name's Mark."Thom laughed. The only other guy I knew at the company, who I only kind of knew from high school- he'd graduated the year before. ?No?? ?Well, there’s a first time for everything.? He slipped his fingers behind the boxers’ band and pulled them down to his thighs. His stiff cock sprang from its bounds and stared at Rachel. It took only a single look to terrify her. Fantasies of sex had long filled her dreams, but she had no intentions of acting out on them. She tried to stand, but Keith held onto the sides of her head firmly. ?It’s too late to back away, Rachel. Remember, I have photos of what you did. Can you imagine how grand it would be to get shamed and disgraced in front of the church? Hell, I’ll take out an ad in the bulletin with your picture. Nobody in the entire parish will ever trust you again. But, hey, I can’t blame them. You’re a thief, after all.? She looked up at him with absolute contempt, compelled to tell him to fuck off, that she was okay with being labeled a thief if it meant keeping her honor. But she wasn’t. The perceptions of others.
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The days were long and the nights involved a lot of alcohol at sun set which lead me to make difficult decisions about who I think would look after me best. I had originally started in a room with an absolutely exquisite French man who whispered in the language of love, how much he wanted to make me scream his name. He didn't have the greatest girth of all but he had a tongue of a snake and every time, he made me come. He became completely wrapped up in my satisfaction and how desperate I was for him to pleasure me. We would spend hours in bed, him insisting I had multiple orgasms as he continued to eat me out, even when my pussy was twitching with the after math of what he had just done to me. However, I soon realised he couldn't handle actually fucking me. He always came too soon and he much preferred head. It would have been rude of me not to return the favour, so I sucked him off when he was least expecting it, making sure that we were in a setting where his "problem" was not a.

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