I know who it is but you; unsure. You close your eyes, let out a sigh and stand up. The look on your face tells me, your mind is having second thought...s. Fence-sitting has always been your weakness, but not tonight. Turning around, looking in the mirror of your bureau, brushing your hand putting on your happy face, you move out of the room.I don’t have to follow nor accompany you. I remain seated, my eyes resting our wedding photo on the dark oak bedside table. With you beside me, frozen in. I would sometimes work from home and it is during those times I got really close to Babita.Babita is a gorgeous woman who is extremely fair in colour and basically a bbm without the tummy I would say. Not fat but her tummy was reflective of her age and lifestyle and I love it! She would wear normal slawar suits or sarees. Sarees would drive me off-the-edge and I think she knew it. She would never expose herself or try to seduce me. Her manner of speaking and demeanor was enough to drive me. I thought she might want to leave straight away, but no, she asked for a drink, then spend the next half hour talking to the men, just chatting with men who a few moments earlier were inside her vagina. I overheard some of it, with her making up some story about the fact that she’d always wanted to be a stripper since she left school, how she loved exposing her body to strangers (well, that bit was true anyway), and that these days at private strip-shows, the girls expected to be touched, and. Unsere Chats werden immer intensiver, so fragt sich mich einige Tage später, ob es wirklich Männer gibt, die darauf stehen, wenn Frauen es ihnen mit ihren Füßchen besorgen. Ich muss schlucken. Die reine Vorstellung, wie Laura es mir mit ihren Füßchen besorgt, lässt meinen Schwanz sofort anschwellen. Ich antworte ihr, „Du kannst dir gar nicht vorstellen wie viele Männer davon träumen, einen Footjob zu bekommen! Und ich glaube es gibt wesentlich schlimmere Vorlieben…“. Es vergeht ein Moment, bis.