He raised one hand and pointed to the far side of the couch, where I could just see the end of his duffel bag peeking out behind the ugly patterned so...a. Dammit. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I walked over to pick up the bag. As I bent down to pick it up, I felt his hands on my hips and his hard-on pressing against the crease of my ass. As I straightened up with his duffel in hand, he leaned in close and whispered huskily in my ear. “I know what you’re wearing under this.” My cheeks. What followed after that was me a flurry of messages when you show concern towards the well being of that person which is fake in every regard because the real motive is to bend her around the bed and pound her brains out while she moans out your name.But I managed to be a friend , a friend she could meet next time she comes to Bombay, and what better when they are alloted hotels to stay for the night.So the real story starts when she texted me to say that she’s in Bombay and she wants to go. More

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