By now I too had pulled the knot of his dhoti which now lay on the floor and my hands were inside his jockey shorts, feeling the rubbery smooth length...of his thick cock. He got up, suddenly, and lifted me physically in his arms and carried me to the bedroom and laid me gently on the bed. Lying by my side he gently kissed my lips while his hand went to my breast from over my bra, cupping my left breast gently kneading it. He tasted so good, his tongue probing my mouth as our lips remained. More than a few of those very same women had been bent over a toilet in that Honky Tonk, marble white asses sticking up proudly in the air as she rammed her tongue up their tight little holes. They’d plead to the god they worshipped every Sunday, begging her not to stop. Just like she was begging Preston right now. “Keep going,” she screeched. Oh did he ever. He was getting into it now, like every person she’d ever fucked. His tongue wiggled furiously, lapping harder and harder. Then he’d. More

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