“Randi. Kisne bola tujhe baith ne ke liye. Sali randi hai tu meri. Mere sath sirf chune ke liye baithegi. Jab tak m na bolu tu sirf neeche zameen pa...r baithegi.” Fir Birju ne plate mein do roti aur aachar rakh kar use neeche pakda diya. Aur khud table par rakhe sare pakwano ka maja lene laga.Use to aisa lag raha ki swarg mein aa gaya aur Puja ke liye narak ki zindagi shuru ho gayi hai. Puja ne apna khana kha liya aur fir Birju ke side mein khadi ho gayi. Birju ke khane ke bad sab bartan saaf. It happened early in my learning process for that business, but I'd protected myself – sort of. I'd forced the owner of the company in which I'd invested to put up his home as collateral. The home was an estate on Long Island comprising about five acres. In the back of my mind, I considered occupying the estate after I staged my demise as Vince Smith. Otherwise I would have sold it when I liquidated most of my other assets. As it turned out, I stumbled on the eighty acres in Gold Canyon, and I. Sweaty, pale skin slips on the synth-leather of your pilot seat as your hips instinctively roll, the thick dildo that you'd spent the last hour with popping out of your abused quim with a loud slurp. "F-fuuuuuck..." That long familiar, mewling cry echoes through the cockpit of your AvversTech Solo-Exploration Corvette, dragging a tired grin to your lips as you finally focus on something other than your immediate pleasure. Your own reflection grins back down at you from the partially reflective. It just feels so good now, and I begin to stroke faster because I want to make myself cum for the camera. I want to make myself cum for my foreign correspondent. Ok, I’ll admit it. Now finally there is a bit of pre-cum on the tip of my cock, and I have a decision to make. My mysterious and average woman has never seen my face, and since I’m a bit concerned about privacy and my reputation, I am afraid to show my face on camera. But I want to take that drop of pre-cum on my finger tip and bring.