Urvashi The Feeling
He was still pulling my hair. He guided my mouth to his dick. I saw his dick; it was like a small rocket. He pushed my mouth into his dick and I started giving him a blowjob. I got the mixed taste of my juice and his cum. Soon he released his juice in my mouth. He suffocated my mouth and I had to gulp each and every bit down.Half of the water from the tank had spilled out during my drilling by this plumber boy. We again embraced each other and stayed like that for half an hour.Then we went into the bedroom. We had more sex that day till my daughter came back at 6 pm.This was my first time with Rahul. Soon it became our everyday thing. In a month, there was no room in my house where he had not fucked me. The hottest session was in the storeroom. It was my daughter’s birthday party and I was told by her not to come down to the party area.So I stayed on the first floor of the home. Somehow Rahul sneaked in. But as my first floor is too approachable by anyone, I was afraid. So he pulled. Even the larvae’s default weeping petered like leaky faucets ran dry, bright inquisitive eyes not yet crushed by system programming as enamored with the Technicolored vistas as their elders, mesmerized. At first near Shakespearean splotches of candy colored chaos, flung indiscriminately onto a felt canvas screen -beatings, whippings, crucifixions-no pattern discernible, just a kaleidoscope of madness & mayhem, cutting through the chaff & getting straight to the goodies, all killer no filler. Expressions of bliss on the spectators’ faces too, drooling up tenfold, laps buckling tears of joy spilling- plainly the purest hit of good stuff bread & circus crowd had weathered in quite some time, dropping out of seats to the sticky auditorium floor, convulsing while foam pours from mouths & eyes roll up into heads, sending personnel charging forward prying apart jaws & saving errant tongues. A pack of costumed hooligans kicking a wizened hobo in an underpass, flocks of weeping rabbi.
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