Hai, kya figure hai, bhagwan ne apne haathon se tarasha hai. Kash ki mein hi bhagwan hota! Kya gol gol mammay, aur gol gol chootad hain. Agar kuchh flat hai toh uska pait. Kamar itni patli, ki jaise chaho ghuma lo. Us patli kamar ke upar woh jhoolte hue bhaari mammay, aur neeche woh chaand jaisi gol gol gaand. Hai, mein mar jawaan! Kab mere paas aa ke kahegi, “ please mujhe chod lo, mujhe tumhara lund apni choot mein chahiye”. Khyaal achcha hai, Ghalib! Jab bhi usko dekhta hoon to paani nikal jaata hai. Abbe, leak nahin hota, saalon, mein khud haath se nikaal leta hoon. Jab bhi woh U P, Bihar lootne wala gaana gaati hai, toh meri toh dhoti hi phat jaati hai (symbolic!) Pahli nazar mein hi usne apne “chura ke dil mera” gaane se meri neendein udaa li hain. Jaane kab sapnon mein aanaa band karegi.Aaj kal ek aur sexy laundiya hai, apni Rakhi Sawant. Baap re, kya bindaas cheez hai. Ek toh ishwar ne hi kuchh wardaan de diye hain, phir khud bhi hum jaison ko sataane mein koi kasar nahin. Everything in my vision seems to narrow again to a pinpoint that is just wide enough to see your face, see the anticipation as you bite your lip. The intensity that builds in me now was a foreign sensation until we met. Before, there was always pleasure, but something missing. With you, I never fail to entirely lose myself when reaching the apex. Each clench elicits louder moans as I begin to tense up all over, sweet pain almost like the burn right before a muscle cramp. Your legs shaking around me tell me you're reaching your edge too, as you writhe below me. I don't just spill, but feel my seed frantically rocketing out of me, in what seems like endless thick ropes plumbing depths in you even my hardness can't reach, as your sex squeezes and milks every last drop I can give. Barely able to move, everything in me feels raw, exposed, and sensitive. Your arms cradle me and my head just rests on your neck as I calm with each breath, each one inhaling the scent of your hair, our bodies.
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