Mumbai Girl Reshma

We used to be so much more than this. I am momentarily ashamed of myself. Why do I always become an awkward teenager around her? Perhaps some jaffa cakes would help… And so after she’s helped me dress the scald across my hand from where I emptied the kettle over it, and we’ve cleared up the pieces of broken china and mopped up the tea, we’re curled up on the sofa. One at each end. She’s just close enough for comfort and I can’t take my eyes off her. Never have been able to really, just one of those things. I need to study her, to take in her image, because whenever I see her I never know if I’m going to see her again. It’s always been like this but I always forget how hard it is, how much joy and pain she carries in her pockets just for me. Don’t imagine that we’re sitting in silence though, we aren’t. She’s talking and I’m hanging on every word. This is what we do. Yes, I’m hanging. That’s exactly how it feels, there’s me with a rope around my neck and she’s pushing me gently back. This insignificant, obvious fact made my mind click on an odd observation on the pictures. Earlier I was too shocked to pick up on it.The first pictures were all of Sally and my wife. The very first ones were mostly Sally giving oral sex to my wife. Then there was a set of my wife doing the same to Sally. Then finally, I suppose, Bob handed the camera over to Sally and the next set was my wife giving Bob head. I thought to myself that I had always told my wife how good she was at cock sucking and she was. She had gotten so good that she could deep throat my six and a half inch cock with ease. In that last year or so she would tease me by saying she had mastered this cock and could take it so easily now. The pictures with Bob’s cock in my talented wife’s mouth got me started.It was then that I heard my wife stirring and I got up from the deck and went inside. I asked if she wanted a coffee and she called out from the bedroom to say yes. I dutifully brought my wife a latte from our.
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