Last year I went to her house in my deevali pooja holidays. My chitty warmly welcomed me and she asked about me and my family. We had a long chat then...she asked me to take bath and to take breakfast. I had a good dinner and went to sleep.On the next morning I woken a little earlier in the morning and went to the bathroom and took my brush. In the bathroom I could hear the cloth washing sound (we use to wash cloths over a stone). After hearing that sound I went back of the home there my pleasure. He was so grief stricken that people at other tables turned to look at him. I handed him a serviette that accompanied our drinks t wipe the tears.As he sobbed he uttered half intelligible words like, sorry, ashamed, foolish all were repeated over and over.I watched him like i might a sad TV programme. I felt for him in his anguish. My eyes moistened. Tears ran down my cheeks too. My mascara must have run at that point because when I freshened up later I saw the tell tale black smudging down my. " I surrenderd myself.I had been sitting on the computer desk and so she moved to my chair. I was expecting her to go straight to my flyers, but she came to my back and whispered, "Let me show yu my computer skills." Sure," I agreed. As she reached out for the mouse her breasts pierced my back. The strong scent of her perfume flooded my nostrills. I was in a trance. Her left hand ran over my chest as she worked the mouse with her right. The left hand searched my nipples and she gave it a short. She looked at me and asked why. "I don't know. Just not the shit we do. It's been in a box collecting dust. But hey, if it makes you feel better, you're more than welcome to use it." I laughed. Amanda laughed, Stephanie laughed, and I'll be damned if Christina didn't take it out of her hand and say, "Yep. I'll take you up on that." Then she set it on the table next to her. I sat there in the recliner, stunned, unable to speak. And God if my dick wasn't getting hard. The girls kept talking, and.
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