However Kishore is a different kettle of fish altogether and he has fucked many a married women in Pune. The looks he was giving bhabhi showed that he... wanted to screw her badly. Another thing is that Kishore is extremely frank with me and he has told me stories that how he has fucked his own sister and how he used to secretly watch his mother being screwed by two of his neighbors [ details of this story next time] so Kishore told me that he found my bhabhi extremely fuckable and he badly wanted. I could just feel her hand softly rubbing my back very slightly, as if the effort was just too much. I held her close and felt her heart beating furiously as she struggled to breathe and stay awake. I just held her and let her calm down. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at me sleepily, swatting me weakly on my back."You are so going to pay for that, you brat," she whispered threateningly. Her threat kind of lost its scariness, however, when she was trembling all over and had to spend. I brought my hands up to the front of his pants. My fingers looked so sexy—long and white and delicate—with their red-painted nails. I could feel my heart pounding. I was this black man's bitch, his whore, his slave. I'd never felt more at home in the world than I did now: on my knees before a black master. I unbuttoned the fly of his baggy jeans and felt the warmth of him. He was already hard and his heavy dark cock slapped me in the face, surprising me. I'd never touched a man's cock before. He untied the rope from her neck, tied one end to her wrist, and guided her so that her back was wrapped flat against the rough bark, her hands pulled around behind her. Silently, he bound her wrists around the back of the tree, and then did the same with her ankles. Her discomfort was obvious. And he relished in it. Her breasts were heaving with her breath, her legs and arms drawn away to the back, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. And waiting. He looked at her for a while, watching her.