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Woh dheere dhere chalte hue mere samne ate hue lotion ke dabbe ko mere taraf pheki aur boli: To batao main kaysi lag rahi hoon ab.Main lotion ke dabbe ko catch karte hue bola: Bahut bahut sexy lag rahi ho bhabhi sachme.Shobha jhoot moot ke gusse wali shakal banate hue poochi: Kyun isse pahle nahi lag rahi thi kya?Main: Nahi nahi matlab isse pahle to aap sexy lag rahi thi par ab to zabardast.Shobha: Woh kyun?Main: Are apne jo pahna hai wahi kamal kar rahi hai bhabhi.Shobha: Jab sochi ki tumse lotion lagwa loon to khayal aaya ki tumhari mere tango ko niharne ki ichcha bhi puri kar doon. Kaysa laga mera idea.Main puri khusi zahir karte hue bola: Mast bhabhi mast idea. Kya mast dikhti ho aap.Itna kahne par woh puri adao ke sath apne dono hath apne sar ke peeche tika kar khadi ho gayi. Jisse unka chota sa dress thoda aur upar ko uth kar theek unke choot ke ekdam kareeb dhak kar rah gaya. Mere nazar neeche thi ki thodi aur uth jaye kash. Aur sath hi upar unki chikni kaank jisme baal ki ek. Within the first few steps he took, he felt a weird buzzing in the pocket. Reaching inside he found a small vibrating thimble. Spencer may have been out of touch with his s*ster, but this was just plain uncomfortable. Trying desperately not to think about what it was he tried to turn it off, but it only made it vibrate more."SERIOUSLY?!”* * *Carly rushed downstairs to see what was wrong with Spencer, still wondering where her magic button was, when he stepped out of the bathroom, wearing her way-too-small-for-him robe with the toy on his finger. Staring at her, he looked like he was about to have a stroke as he tried to speak, but couldn't. He just stared at her with a dead eyed look, his finger still buzzing with the toy. Carly sheepishly took it from his finger and walked back to her room."Carly! Get back here... we need to talk."It was a real rarity for Spencer to yell, but when it happened, Carly was always a bit shaken."K*ddo, what's going on? I mean, I know I'm your br*ther and.
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Everything was not alright. Due to COVID, her classes had moved online. She had constant fights with her roommate girls because the flats in their student apartment were too small. They were never designed for staying inside, only meant for sleeping at night.I could tell that her restaurant job was long gone. She had even stopped asking if there are any other jobs available. So that I wouldn’t be embarrassed about saying ‘no’ every time. She was wearing a loose sleeveless t-shirt. I caught a glimpse of a tattoo inside her left arm and commented, “Is that an inner arm tattoo?”She turned, giving her 100-watt smile with her pearl lined teeth and pouting lips, raised her arm, and showed me something written inside, saying, “This is the oldest one. I got this in Somajiguda.”“What do you mean by the oldest? How many do you have?” I said, lighting a cigarette. I was totally free with no pretenses in her flat. She was a Parisian girl. She made black coffee for me in her small expresso machine.

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