Fucking Hot Indian Girlfriend 2

“I have done this with you every year on your birthday since fifth grade, except for last year,” the girl said in my mind as she moved up to line my dick up with her soaked snatch and slowly let it slide inside her. “I was screaming out for someone to help me, and you were the only one who heard me in your mind. Any time after that, when I called out to you, I could feel you hearing me telepathically. Whenever you were able to come to me, you did. No one else has ever been able to do that with me. I’m lucky that my parents sensed that I was different in some way they couldn’t understand or believe, but knew to restrict testing to doctors who treat my conditions that they do understand. One day when you were in the fifth grade, you called out to me for the first time. I didn’t know why or what was happening but came to find you. A girl was doing to you what I am now doing. You wanted me close so that I could feel what you both felt as she used you to play house because you didn’t want. "I'm Jenn Gumm, but everyone calls me Gin. Except Delaney and her crowd. They think I'm some sort of Uber-femme or domme because I like to work out." "I'm Dawn," the woman replied without thinking as she shook hands. "Crap," she thought, "I was supposed to use some other name." Upon further consideration she realized that lying probably wouldn't have worked anyway, as whom ever had sent Gin to her rescue must already know who she was. Better to be honest. Gin lead Dawn towards one of the tables on the far side of the dance floor. Her hand rested lightly on Dawn's shoulder. At first, Dawn wasn't sure how comfortable she was with the other woman's touch. After a moment, she relaxed and accepted it. Gin wasn't stroking her or moving her hand around. It was just a friendly gesture. Dawn's eyes darted around the club as she followed Gin's lead. There were all sorts of women here. No Deputy Mayor, a detached part of her mind thought to mention, but other women that she recognized. There.
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