Indian Women Are The Prettiest

It just did.”“Yeah, but I think maybe I did something to make it happen.”“It doesn’t matter. When it did I liked it. Then I loved it. I’m not sorry it happened. Not even a little bit.”“But you were supposed to save that for the man you fall in love with and marry,” I said. That was the mantra our parents mumbled more or less regularly.“Bobby, I do love you,” she said, patiently. She didn’t have to say anything about the marriage part. That part was obvious.Some part of me knew that we loved each other, especially lately, but our history had been rocky for a lot longer than we’d been getting along. Her easy, casual expression of what she now felt kind of took me by surprise.“I’m glad,” I said. “I really didn’t want you mad at me.”“You need to read some of Mom’s romance books,” said my sister.“What?” The change of subject had generated more surprise.“You’re not very romantic.”“Of course not. You’re my sister.”Isn’t it amazing how us guys can stick our feet in our mouths so easily?My. I stormed out of his house and back to my car crying my eyes out. Once I had regained my composure, I took a small notepad out of my glove box, wrote, “Asshole” on a sheet. I then got out of my car, to put the note in his mailbox, but instead I picked up a large rock, using my hair tie, I attached my note and threw it through his living room window. I then returned to my car and drove home as fast as I could. After returning home, I ran straight to my bedroom, I just wanted to sleep. I dosed off to sleep only to wake up an hour later, to hear my roommate and her boyfriend fucking in the next bedroom. It seemed like everybody but me was getting laid. I got out of bed, stripped naked, went to my dresser, pulled out a vibrating dildo and put a porno in the DVD player. I returned to bed playing with my vibrating dildo on it's full speed inside my pussy. My dildo made me cum multiple times in a series of intense orgasms. I don't remember what time I stopped playing with my dildo, but I.
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