He kneeled on the floor and looked up at me with intense eyes. I gripped my own shaft and stared transfixed as his grew to a full eight inches. Indian porn sex He slowly sifted through its contents and pulled out deodorant, tweezers, a comb, hair gel, a pack of condoms and one gigantic bottle of lube. He thrust again, increasing his speed. what’s your name?” He asked, applying the deodorant to his armpits. Actually, they used to call me “The Big Kahuna,” but that started to get too long–too overused anyway. There I sat, cowering, sporting a swim suit at my ankles and a penis that refused to surrender. It was in that handicapped stall I found myself one particular day in the middle of June when someone walked into the other stall. I jumped. He caught me and for one glorious second I was pressed against his bulging pectorals. I moaned and squirmed, but he only tightened his grip, planted a small kiss on my forehead. He stopped. He picked up the tweezers and began to pluck his eyebrows. “Let’s do this,” he said, pushing me back on the bench with the palm of his hand. We both just sat there, breathing and staring into each other’s eyes for a few seconds.
