Or did he? Or was I just wanted him to notice? As the awkward silence grew, my mind started swirling. What if my parents walked in on me dressed like ...his?Or worse, what if my girlfriend did? I didn’t want to think of her. Wait, why didn’t I want to think of her? As I grappled with my weird thoughts and an ever-growing bulge, I felt Zafar’s hand on my arm. “Are you okay? Comfortable?” he asked. “Y…. yes!” I replied tentatively.He patted my arm and kept on rubbing. It felt good. We stared into. Each time, he took out his cock and entered it again. I knew it is extra trouble to him, but he did it willfully. I was enjoying it anyway.After a while, he got off. I laid and said,-reverse cowgirl-He willfully and happily laid, with his cock upwards. I sat on his cock, held his knees and started riding him. He was massaging my buttocks. I was moaning.After a while, I got off. He said,-the ballet dancer--hey that is unfair. I am supposed to pull you--no, we shall start from the next step. Come. More

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