” ” dont call me aunty. m aarthi . ” and she gave him a smile and pulled him close to her.She hugged him tight and he reciprocated he felt her s...bbing and suddenly he felt her breathe faster he let his hands slip ever so lightly under her red t shirt and he stroke her back. she got herself closer to him and rubbed his back too kissing his neck lightly. he pulled her tighter and kissed her hard, letting his tongue discover the pleasures of her mouth as they wrestled and nestled in each others. She hadn’t thought he had, but a woman at the market had made some spiteful comments that ‘why would he fuck coal when he can fuck pearls’. “Tematha, you can start at the top, I shall start at the bottom” was what he said. He wasn’t one to be lost in flowery speeches. He intended to enjoy her, and intended she should enjoy it too, but descriptions of her perfect, jewel-like radiance were not part of his vocabulary. Tematha was kissing her lips, willingly or obediently, he didn’t know; he did. Adam walked over to the far side of the bed and then looked over at me. I nodded. As if on cue, all three of us began to undress. Jane was beautiful, and somehow even more confident, naked, than she had been during our flirtation at the bar. We were putty in her hands, and she knew it.The next thing I knew, the three of us were laying on the bed together and things had taken on a playful tone. This was, after all, not some hardcore, double-penetration porn scenario. This was three drunk people. We chatted socially and she knew I was divorced. I was in my early thirties and I think she was in her mid fifties. She was interested in me and my life style and often asked me about my social and love life. We became quite friendly and had a common bond in that her manager was failing which she knew it as did I.She was quite tall maybe 5 foot 7 or 8 and probably weighed about 180 to 190 pounds. She was heavily built – with wide bottom, large breasts big enough for me to have to use two hands.
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