She looked at me hungrily from top to bottom. I was wearing a fancy light pink see through sari with matching blouse and accessories. “I get wet eve...y time I see you”, she said pulling my sari’s pallu from my shoulder on to the floor.She ran her fingers over my bare stomach, fiddling with my waist chain. Her fingers rubbed my navel. “Your navel drives me crazy baby”, she said kissing my navel. Hema ma’am started kissing and licking my navel furiously. Her powerful hands squeezed my ass. Even. Even on the telephone, Sarah could tell two things right away; the caller was a man, not a boy and he sounded about half stewed.She asked him outright, "How old are you?"There was a hesitation. "Well, I'm forty-four, but I need the work." Mister, this ain't no reg'lar job fer a man. It's to give some kid some extry pocket-money." This in her best uneducated colloquial vernacular."Well, but I need the work more'n some snot-nose kid. I got kids o' my own to feed!" You know what? You sound drunk. More

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