Main Mumbai main raheta hoo..ek bar main Ahmedabad se Mumbai bus(2+2) me aa raha tha main jab apni seat pe pahuncha to bagal ki window seat me ek 27-2...8 saal ki ladki baithi thi aur window se apne husband ke sath bat kar rahi thi. Jaisa main apni seat me baitha uske husband ne muje poocha, aap Mumbai me rahate ho?? Maine kaha Ha..usne kaha meri bibi paheli bar akeli ja rahi hai jara khyal rakhna. Maine kaha, ok..uski bibi ne bhi mere samne dekhke smile kiya.jaise bus chalne lagi wo mujse baate. I sat on the edge of the bed having slipped my dress off, which now lay on the floor, and where my bra and knickers would soon be joining it. My knickers like my entire outfit was borrowed, I didn’t own anything so slutty as what I wore. The knickers, that was a joke, were a tiny G-string, my second pair of the night, Amy brought them by the dozen, they got torn, or kept by the guys that paid for women like me to fuck them. Women like me? “Unzip me slut, and do what I’m paying you to do,” he. I went to the party and watched her jumping her brand-new steed over the fences with great form and a firm seat. It was entirely arousing to watch her tightly packed buttocks slapping into the saddle like a well-trained female accustomed to backside battering. She had a wonderful smile and I could tell from her sparkling eyes that she was most likely still a virgin because of the way she patted her hair whenever a nicely built male was in close proximity. Later at the table, I focused my eyes. I knew that I was obsessed with Julie to an unhealthy degree and that I was capable of infinitely more jealousy than I ever suspected.I have to confess that I was so jealous of the beautiful Elena who had recently become our third room-mate that I would often punish her flanks and her boobs with my riding crop and nasty fingers. To her credit, the girl took it all with a spirit of cooperation and offered her pretty flesh to my humiliating treatment. After a couple of weeks of watching the two.