”Main haste hue bola ki aise gusse mein shart laga kar agar haar gaye to mujhe poori umar baap maanna padega. Aur main Shazia aunty ko biwi bana lun...ga. Use iss baat par aur gussa aaya.Woh bola, “Thik hai agar aisi baat hai to. Agar tum jeete to main apni ammi chudwaoonga tumse. Agar main jeeta to tum apni maa Monica ko chudwaoge mujhse.”Main usse bola, “Rizwan pagal ho gaye ho kya? Kuch bhi anaab shanaab bol rahe ho.” Woh bola, “Kya hua? Fatt gayi kya? Tum Indian log bas baatein hi kar sakte ho. .. I put my gear in the luggage rack... it is buried under all the other passengers bags... Shit...". Chris thought quickly and remembered the leather biker jacket he found earlier. He through it on and he again got that strange tingeling sensation in the pit of his stomach. Gosh, he loved the feeling he got from wearing it. He got a serving tray with the cups and coffee pot from the steward and he put a tea towel over it to keep the rain out. Christopher walked up stairs to the wheelhouse with. For fifteen long minutes she endured it, by now begging and pleading pitifully to be released, odd twinges of cramp forced her to rest her clitorise on the intrusive bar, which was agony on both the clit or her anal ring, dependant if she leant forward or back. she was crying, and begging alternately for release, offering to do anything, to suffer any indignity, but to be let off, less she be damaged permanently. Finally, they relented, strong arms lifting her from her bar, though not releasing. Sandra almost screamed when she felt something on her knee, as she looked down she seen the kid she was talking to. He looked up at her and said, “Just trying to make sure this movie is not boring for you” he was smiling and so was she. He licked his way up her thighs as she squirmed to accommodate him better access. She knew she should stop him but she needed so bad to be wanted. She spread her legs as he got closer, she could feel his breath on her thighs as her breathing quickened in.