She was beautiful and she was mine. For all that I had been a victim, it was nothing to leaving this child motherless. ‘Ishtar,’ I said, wishing ...I had called her anything else. Her name was proof of my rejection and though she may not have known it, I felt it keenly. Regret coursed through me. She reached out to brush a tear from my cheek. Her bracelets glittered in the torchlight, among them a string of clay beads I made long ago. They seemed to be from another life, a stranger’s life. ‘Oh. “Thank you,” I smiled back before I started licking the remnants of his bout with Kathy from his soft cock and balls.He looked down at me in amazement as I tongued him clean. “God,” he groaned, “you really enjoy that, don’t you?”“You mean the taste of your cum?” I asked. “Oh, yeah, I do. I love it.” I kissed his cock and shrugged. “In fact, I think I like the taste of cum more than anything else I’ve ever had.”His eyes bulged. “You’re every man’s dream,” he said. “A gorgeous, sexy woman. At times, even at their very homes. But some of them live in places far from Jaipur, like in Kishangarh and Ajmer. So the encounters take place at shady lounges or hotels. Every time I need to be careful to avoid the police glare.So far, I have never had any trouble with the men in uniform. I am also careful about keeping my profession a secret amongst my social circle, worried about the censure and isolation that a revelation might bring. I remember how a distant friend, who was in a similar. “Oh, fuck, you guys ... Oh, fucking God!” Michelle lost it and acted as if she had gotten religion or something the way that she reacted to our tongues exploring her bottom half ... which was funny, because she was a preacher’s daughter, of course.My sister-in-law creamed herself now and she was more than ready for what came next, namely my dick plunging into her soaking wet twat. I was bareback, of course. I wasn’t about to deny myself the chance to donate sperm to Michelle and Missy’s cause.