What A Waste Of Time, Poor Indian Sex Scene

I hugged him tighter, bemused by the fact that whilst his arms crossed over round me, my arms were no where near touching round the back of him. I was never very good at dimensions. That was the first time I discovered that you can hear somebody else’s heartbeat without a stethoscope. I had my ear against his heart (medically he had one, if not emotionally, but I digress…), and I couldn’t believe it – it was so fast! I said, “Your heart beats well faster than mine does!” He said, “That’s because I’m aroused.” I said, “What?” He explained to this complete simpleton that when people get aroused (he said it so scientifically!), it makes their heart beat faster. I thought about that for a bit, shifting my weight because my back was hurting. I discovered that if I do my back Wiggle whilst cuddling a gargantuan giant, it makes him go “Mmmmm…” After I had thought about that, I raised my head (I also discovered I could only see the underside of his chin if he was looking ahead), and. But despite that all I can think about is those lovely girls and what they’re doing to me, as they dance and dance and I’m leaking non-stop in my pants, trembling all over, on the verge of perv ecstasy. Wump! Wump! Wump! I’m doing it in my pants. Shot after shot and fortunately I pretend to cough – a ruse that will serve me well in the years to cum – and I feel the spunk soaking into my underpants, right round to my arse so the chair will get wet too, and still more shots, the most unbelievable ecstasy as I see girls moving, dancing, like for real, not like in a mag. The song ends and the girls run off stage and before everyone stops talking excitedly to each other – “cor did you see that!”, “wow!” – I’m up and out, to change my trousers and pants before any one sees what the girls made me do. That was the first of many telly pants-spunks, there were many more on the RSG! Dancers, until the show closed later that year I think. What’s lovely about that situation is that, where you.
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