We have only twice gone to a hotel, the rest of our encounters being in his car, in my student flat, in the open air and of course, in his office many... more times.In between dates, he sends me messages telling me where to go, what to do, what to wear – or increasingly what not to wear - when I go out. I find this very arousing indeed.Sometimes he sends me links to erotic stories before our dates, suggesting what he intends to do with me, getting me turned on even before we meet. The anticipation. One day when I came back from my friends house I knocked the door and I saw aunty opening the door and mom sitting on sofa and I went inside silently later my mom called me for coffee and I just changed my dress after washing my face and I came to sit opposite to aunty my mom went to bring me snacks and I was chatting with aunty about her daughter and she asked about my studies and gal friends she was wearing a green saree and looking very sexy in that. I was staring at her like anything when. I expect we'll spend most of the rest of the week at the Potter and the Gallery." Right. I want to spend time with the Williams especially the gouaches that aren't on exhibit and I want to see the Italian paintings." Italian paintings?" From the Prado in Spain. A lot of religious paintings, exotica and well-fed folks. We'll get a student discount there, too." Exotica?" Well, I know there's at least one painting of people riding elephants." I guess that's exotic. Did Winnie get you permission to. I plugged the needle in, coated it with lube and slid it in me deep. Then I pumped it up. As I was pumping it up I kept moving it in and out trying to find when it was tight enough. One thing was certain; an empty bladder was a necessity. I could feel the ridges on it as it expanded. I counted the pumps on the squeeze bulb; it took 5 to have the right fit. The knots were deep enough that my exterior muscles held it in but it would still move around a little to work its magic on my G spot. I lay.