"Yes!....Yes!... YES!...Right there! OH God!...Don't stop!" you demanded, as I devoured your sweetness. Your viselike grip on my head relaxed and I came up for air. I stood as you slipped off the bar stool, straightening your skirt. You arched your neck and pulled me in for another kiss. This time you went for my upper lip, sucking your essence off it. "I'm thinking you like my taste almost as much as I do," you said, pressing your pelvis against my straining hard-on."I'm thinking, I like it more," I replied as my hands cupped your ass and pulled you closer."Enough to let me edge you all afternoon, while you take care of my needs?" I don't know. I've never done it," I said, adding, "My wife wasn't one for games." Believe me, this is no game." you said, wrapping your legs around my waist, your skirt parting as I rubbed your weeping cunt against my khaki's. I responded by giving you another kiss, this time pushing my tongue past your teeth while kneading your ass cheeks. We stood. Though dating was tolerated in Indian culture, Vick’s mother, Mala, wouldn’t let him date. She was adamant when it came to maintaining tradition, and his father was even more stringent. Yes, Vickram Dutt was still a virgin and he was quite sure that both his sisters were as well. It was a dismal circumstance and the only escape afforded to virgins like Vick was masturbation—which he often practiced.But his days of doing that would soon end….On a warm Friday evening Vickram Dutt lay relaxing on the couch, his feet propped on the armrest, watching television. He lived in a large house with a spacious living room from whose wide glass doors he could see the backyard and the purple sky above. Mala was in the kitchen cooking, and Vick could see her stirring a large iron pot. Every few seconds she would lean down and breathe in the rising fumes.Vick watched a Bollywood music video on the large screen TV; his skin felt hot and the hairs on his arms stood up. He shifted his body in little.
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