The whole scene seemed to beckon me. Still, I sat inmy car and looked on.Looking over the steering wheel, I could see the maroon colors on myfingernai...ls. I exited slowly, but first I adjusted my rear view mirror tocheck my makeup for, oh, the 50th time or so. The bangs from my wigspilled over my forehead. My eyeliner was holding, but I needed work onmy lipstick.This is it, I thought. This was my moment, the moment I had anticipatedfor most of my life. I watched as other people -- some couples,. Henry made her feel excited and passionate. She never wanted these feelings to stop. Penelope tore her gaze away from his bouncing cock, meeting his eyes with hers. She then retrieved the book from his open palms, already excited to see him cum onto the same pages she had just squirted onto. Henry watched as Penelope delicately placed the cracked spine of the Shakespeare play against the arm of the deep brown chair. He stepped closer towards her, bringing his hard cock right up to her pale. I used to imagine fucking her and jerk off every night sometimes 2-3 times a day thinking about her.It had become a daily routine whenever she came to work in morning she used to take her dupatta off while cleaning my room so that I could have a good view of her boobs. I always used to have a huge hard on in mornings. Some days when no one was watching she even used to touch my dick for a while and blush. I knew that iron was hot and it was just a matter of time that my rod pierce through her. The part that scared me the most was explaining about Ben to her. I just didn't know how she would take it. Let's face it, it's hardly considered acceptable in society. It reached a moment where I felt I would have to tell her because it was a make or break scenario and I felt that if I got any more attached to her and I lost her it would hurt too much. So one day she arrived at my front door in her usual style, bare assed naked wearing little more than a big grin. I smiled back and hugged her.