I wonder if you actually love her. I suddenly feel guilty, because I know that I love my husband, yet I am still about to let you fuck me. Maybe it is...the same for you, maybe it is different. It doesn’t matter though, does it? Not really. As I get nearer, I get more excited. I imagine your cock hardening, knowing that I am almost there. I imagine you unzipping my dress for me. I imagine you holding my breasts and kissing my neck. I imagine too many things, and I feel myself getting wet already.. “Qamaar, what are you doing?” she asked me in a naughty voice. As soon as we got off the but, it flew away leaving us in the bus stop. I slowly covered her uncovered hand. She looked at me surprised.“Qamaar, that was not what you were supposed to do…qamaar!…wait!…you bastard!”She was laughing as I put the fingers of my left hand through those of her right hand, and vice versa, pushed her into the bus stand, pressed her against the stand, pressed her hands against it lightly, and we started. More

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