Muh Me Poora Gusana Be Dal Andar Bahar

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Confusing in my head but not confusing in my crotch.You slid your hand down over your tits, stroking your nipple, sucked on your fingers with closed eyes. Every move you did gave me electric feelings in my dick. Your fingers got glistening of your spit and you started to play with yourself.---------------------------------The young one stopped with his dick buried in your ass hole. He told you to rub your pussy, show us that you like having a strangers dirty dick in your ass.The oldest one was still sitting on your stomach holding your feet backwards.You obeyed. Because of the angles I could not see you work on yourself. But because the old man pulling your feet backward I had a good view and could see your white buttocks, and the his dick penetrating your asshole. I was kind of exhausted. So horny. Thinking I wanted him to fuck you, hard.I could, again, for god knows how many times today, hear you start to make sounds…I saw he moved his hips, pushing as deep as he could, then slowly. I pour more oil into my hands and massage it into the lips, just barely touching my clit. It jumps as my hand connects with it. I softly moan. I can’t wait to have your lips there. I want your hands running over my body, teasing me into full awareness. I feel a tremor start in my belly as I continue to rub my clit, then i insert one finger inside myself, stroking, wanting to feel your cock there instead. As I imagine you stroking deep within me, I feel myself cum. My body jerks as the orgasms run through my body. As I slowly drift back to the present, I get up and remove the towel from my auburn hair, feeling it as it brushes my bottom. I love the feel of my hair skimming along my back and I know you love to run your hands through it when we make love. I run the brush through my hair until it crackles with life. You must get home soon, my body is hot for you and I need your body badly. I have just stoked the fire and opened the wine to let it breathe. I take one of the strawberries.
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They’ve come out to welcome you back.’ Mike doesn’t look up, but I can’t help but gaze out at the hundreds of cottontail rabbits gathered on the other side of the fence. They look so free, so happy, as if they don’t have to worry about owls or coyotes or the poison that the people at the golf course put out to get rid of them. We park outside Mike’s ward and I take Mike’s wheelchair out of the trunk while Mom talks to him quietly. I don’t know what she says to him and I really don’t care. Mom holds the glass door open for me as I push Mike inside. I can’t help but retch at the smell, a combination of piss and Pine Sol. I breathe through my mouth and try not to think about it. We come to the end of the hall and turn into Mike’s ward. I don’t know where to look, where to rest my eyes. There is no place to look and not see twisted limbs lying on the bare tile floor. Four dozen mangled, twisted, drooling, grunting, diapered, howling, crying, laughing bodies. Bodies with heads too big.

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