“I don’t fucking know, OK! Just some guy”She sat down on my bed. I didn’t get a sense she was angry, but I knew I looked guilty, and I felt fl...shed. I wasn’t feeling guilty, but I knew I should be, and that in itself made me feel guilty. I think I started to cry. She said, kindly, “It’s OK Mol, whatever you did ... as long as it doesn’t hurt you and you like it, it’s OK”.I was definitely crying now. I sat on the bed next to her and after a moment I reached out to my bag. I pulled out the £30. “I am here at your service master” – this was her first message on hangouts.I was very happy to see her submissive behavior. We shared more details about ourselves over there. She was a working professional living in Mumbai.She worked in an MNC and earned very good. She was also interested in BDSM a lot. She liked the “Fifty Shades” series and had also read the books. She was even a big fan of BDSM literature and had read many stories on Literotica.We started chatting about what all I had done. There was no question that it was her looks that first drew me to her. Her hair was forever changing style but she never changed its colour—night sky black. She had dark blue eyes that she tried to hide with makeup and she always avoided looking directly at people.She wasn’t tall, not that that mattered to me, nor did she have the huge chest that was the fantasy of many a teenage boy. But to me she was perfectly proportioned. Many people thought of her as cute but to my mind that wasn’t the. Prema’s moan wasn’t audible enough as her mouth was under siege inside his mouth. He lowered his hands and let them trail through her shoulders and arms before they made a comfortable landing on her breasts. Prema jumped at once feeling her hands cupping her breasts and letting his palms brush against her nipples which were throbbing through her bra and blouse. He was skillfully holding the breasts with four fingers while his thumb began brushing the hardening nipples up and down through the.
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