Hindi Original Web Series

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Or is it? I’ve learned to expect anything and everything as I travel the spectrum of emotions from anger to lust then despair and resignation. I can’t tell you where I would mentally be at a particular moment. In a lot of ways, it really doesn’t matter. When the emotions become too intense, my fingers travel to my pussy and I rub my clit until I cum over and over again. Multiple orgasms keep the confusion away. One afternoon, I was lying in bed, completely naked and rubbing my swollen clit when Xiong walked in unexpectedly. Immediately, I pulled my fingers out and presented myself to him for inspection. If he saw me playing with myself, he didn’t let on. As I bent over with my legs spread, he slid his fingers into my cunt. “You are very wet. Why are you wet?” he asked sternly. “Um, I don’t know, I just am,” I replied as my heart rate increased. He finished the examination and removed his gloves. He grabbed my hand and sniffed my fingers. “I smell your pussy,” he said as he. Actually the two enterprises occupied two neighboring storefronts, sharing a stoop leading to two doors. To the left one encountered the mystical world of tarot, palm reading and a sort of phrenology that had more to do with healing with touch than actually reading the shape of skulls. A receptionist, Laurence, effeminate and pretty, had been chosen because Zelda didn't want to be tempted and didn't want an attitude about the more intimate work she performed in her back room. She needed him because of the back room in order to greet customers and have them wait or get an appointment while she intimately healed clients. The fact that he was charming and funny didn't hurt.To the right one entered a small store selling medicinal herbs. Leanne and sometimes Sarah shared duties there with Melissa when Melissa wasn't with a client. They also answered phones for her. Leanne essentially managed the store and was the most consistent presence. Sarah massaged as a preamble for Melissa or for.
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‘Here’s my chance,’ I think to myself, and mustering all my courage I approach her. ‘Excuse me . . . th . . . th . . . this is for you. H.H.Happy birthday,’ I say. She turns around and taking the rose from my hands looks at me. For a second there is silence. Her lips quiver and break into a smile. Slowly the smile is replaced by a chuckle, which turns into peals of laughter. ‘This is pathetic,’ she says, ‘even a loser like you should know better.’ Her eyes are no longer soft. They seemed cold, frightening somehow. ‘Who are you anyway, I don’t even know you?’ I try to tell her, tell her of the times we have bumped into each other, at the football field and on the way home. I explain to her that she once smiled and waved at me. ‘And that made you think what?’ she asks her voice indignant, ‘wait till I tell everyone at school,’ she says throwing the rose away before walking off. I gently pick up the fallen flower. After a day in the heat it has withered. Its petals have fallen.

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