Meri halat kharab honey lagi thi. merey bobs uskey munh mien they aour woh unhien choos raha tha mien ab berdasha nahien kerpa rahi thi aour uski terf... dekhker mien uska lund apni choot ki terf khencha. woh samjh giya key loha geramhey bus ab chot lagana chahyee usney mujhey wohien zameen per lita ker meri nangien apney kandhoo per rakh lien aour buhat ahista ahista apna mota lund meri choot meien ghusaney laga.uskey lund ka ser itna mota tha key mujhey aqeen nahien tha key yeh is mien ghus jaye. But Sally wasn’t always a slut, at least not outwardly. Rather, she was made that way, or perhaps her slut side was brought out, by a man who crossed her path when she was 15, and who took advantage of a youthful indiscretion to inexorably draw her into his steamy world of sex, addiction and control. He took an average, innocent young woman and turned her into his personal whore, changing her life forever. This is the story of how Sally became a tramp, and the man who made her that way, her. Actually it happened with my own mother. So first let me tell you about my mother . She is around 48 years old. Very fair lady. With short height she is fatty her boobs are very big. She wears all kind of dress like a Bengali lady. Her buttocks are very big round , very big boobs. My father most of the time remain on tour. As I got 19 years old my sexual feeling started growing. And the only woman I was in touch was my mother. Whenever I go to take bath I took her clothes out of laundry basket.. It was one of those new cell phone things that I’d seen around at the VFW.“Okay?” she said. “My number is already programmed into it under contacts.” I gave her a look. It was clear to her that her assuming I couldn’t afford a phone was kinda insulting. She didn’t mean it that way, I knew, she was just making things more convenient for herself and for me too as an afterthought.“Okay,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to use it for now until I can get one of my own. But I’ll get it back to you as soon.