I recognised the tune as Raah Bhairavi and smiled - it was Pakistani music; the restaurant was owned by Bangladeshi; but it was called Indian, and it ...eemed like my waiter was Spanish.The meal arrived and I began to eat. As ever it was delicious. As I ate, I took in the music and the atmosphere, the sounds of conversation. The four men nearest to me were English I.T. specialists over in Dublin on a job. They were speking of the joys of Manchester nights out and the raunchiness of younger girls. I rode him hard, fucking him with every ounce of my strength. I took him into my depths, rose until only his bulbous head was inside, and then sat down balls deep. I rocked side to side, up and down, clamped him tight, heard the squelching and sensed he was about to lose control. I wanted to make sure that Troy never forgot this fuck.He loudly gasped that he was about to come. I, too, was ready and both of us pushed as hard and fast as we could. It was furious, frantic fucking. His lusty. More

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