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As I compress the pump three times, he whimpers.“Even this isn’t ‘full’, yet,” I murmur into his ear. “But it’s an… initiation.”I dr...w back and join a well-placed armchair to admire my creation. The boy shakes and wiggles, but his rod has regained its shape. I spread my legs and show him my soaked cunt for the first time. It shines in the candlelight. I pride myself in its hairless silhouette.“Can you see what you’re doing to me, slut? If you can’t concentrate, neither can I.” I spread my. Every sound she made, her quick intake of breath as my teeth sank into her nipple, or the gasp of pleasure she made when my fingers delved into her depths, were loud then and echo in my mind today. She was slick and wet, her sex responding to my explorations with a hunger she could have never denied. Using my fingers, I plunged deeply, testing her and driving her ever closer to the edge of bliss. I devoured her breath, sucking at her lips as my touch stoked her fire into a heated need for. My connecting flight was on a regional jet. As I boarded, and the flight attendant greeted me, I immediately recognized her. As the title of this story indicates, she was - indeed - an Indian princess (BTW: that's Eastern Indian, as in India). Her smile was great to see, and I warmed up inside immediately. Why? I had flown on one of her flights a few months ago. The flight was only about 1/2 full, and I had 1st row seating. The flight attendant seat is quite close to the 1st row, so. Please don’t think my tale is an attempt to proselytize or seek approbation. I’m still learning how to live my life and accept my errors. How can I tell another how to live theirs? I know not what cards you’ve been dealt with, your fated experiences, the era and places you traveled through. I suggest humility but that’s up to you. Many a great leader is guilty of pride. As Francis, the Pope said, “Who am I to say?”Who or what is God? What happens on the point of death? Where did we spring from?.
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