When I was finally done, I looked down and admired my work. Her hair was messed up and had some strings of cum in it. Her face was a mixture of saliva... smeared make-up, tears and cum. I grabbed my phone and took a picture of her. “Try convincing me that you’re not a slut,” I laughed as I showed her the picture. “I am your slut,” she said, getting used to her new role. “Shall I send it to your mother, to let her know you’re in good hands?” I teased. “No, please," she begged, "I’ll suck your cock. I told that there could have been some procession or road block some where in the town and that was why she was not able to get the bus. Then I asked whether I could drop her at her house in my motor cycle? She readily agreed. She took the pillion seat and put her hand on my right shoulder. It was almost six o clock and was slightly drizzling. As I had an affair with her already, the situation was not that much tense. Soon she was very close to me when the bike was crossing two road speed. More

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