I drew out. Bindu, breathing heavily, lay on her side, one hand over her belly. ‘Oh, that was good. He’s crazy,” I said. I helped her up and we ...ut our clothes on. Bindu gave me one last, long kiss, and then headed for the kitchen. Across from the kitchen was a small storage room. Bindu led me to it. We stepped inside and she locked the door. The room was full of boxes, old computers and other stuff that wasn’t being used but was too good to throw away, and a large, leather-covered armchair Sit. She can have her pick of the room. Sit anywhere. In fact, barring a mismatched straggle of three seasoned male drinkers who seem permanently attached to their barstools, the place is quite empty. I cock my head to one side and study her as she stands uncertainly before me tightly grasping a half pint glass filled with amber liquid which, from its colour and plentiful bubbles, I decide is draught cider. It’s obvious she doesn’t know where to place herself; can’t meet my gaze, keeps flicking her. I opened my eyes and saw Eliza lying on my chest, her big brown eyes looking up at me, and she had that sexy, evil grin that I loved seeing. It was then I realized I wasn't having a dream, but it was Eliza stroking my cock, and it felt incredible. Realizing what was happening, my eyes opened wider and I couldn't help but moan a little. I loved the sight of her on my chest looking up at me with those big eyes, an almost innocent look, which made her stroking me even hotter. Eliza smiled that big. This would not be your quick story, so read ahead expecting the same, it has the background and the story slowly built up. This being my first story, I would welcome and appreciate all your reviews and advices via email on . The incident in this story is absolutely true and I would withhold names for obvious privacy reasons.I am currently 22 years old and the girl, though my senior is of the same age. Being in the same institute. We had contact on social media, one day I casually struck up.
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Truth was, she was shy, she was ultra conservative and she felt guilty for looking at the husbands of women at church and at the preschool where she w
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