He got out of his car and went into a bar call the coffee room.I got out of my car and went over and peeked in the window. I couldn’t see much excep... a couple of pool tables. I opened the door and took a quick look inside. Rohit was just sitting down at the bar so i closed the door and went home. I followed rohit a few more times the following days and he stopped at that same bar almost every night. So now i knew where to find him.Then came the hard part. It was time to start working on rohit. As he slipped, naked, between the crisp cotton sheets and laid his head on the welcoming pillow, he stroked himself and briefly considered yielding to the temptation of self-satisfaction, but curiously withheld from the act. As he closed his eyes and deliberately rolled on to his side and curled into a foetal position, his cock strained against his belly, there was a feeling of sacrifice, a vague submission, a self-imposed and almost sanctimonious self-denial. In the back of his mind, he was. . How good is that pussy baby..Uhh! Fuck me harder with your cock babe.. where did you learn to be so good with your dick baby..umm.Me: Yes bitch..Do you love what I am doing to your cunt?Isha: Ahh! Keep fucking me, babe. You know this is the best day of my life.. umm… ahh.. Oh fuck yeah! Baby harder please.. Ramm it deeper..All this dirty talking had made my cock super hard and I knew she loved it just as much as I was enjoying giving it deep to her.The scene was crazy. Isha was kneeling on. “It’s like a Tupperware party but for sex toys. Mostly BDSM related implements,” she said without pause.“So, you’re planning on taking my money then?” I joked as we entered the kitchen.“Maybe, but I figured I could at least get you drunk and maybe have a little fun,” she laughed.When we walked into the kitchen there were two other women standing around the counter island. They were both around Chelsea’s age with brown hair and reminded me of regular soccer moms.“So fancy!” one of the women.
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