The man at the desk – who I had spied from across the street – appeared just as startled to see me as I was curious about him. He smiled. We intro...uced ourselves. He was Mr. Patel, and upon hearing me utter my name, “Mukund”, he smiled and we shook hands. A mere handshake it was. And yet, as in a saluted gesture from the secret unspoken language that only males from a certain global tribe share, a wiser handshake that lingered a trifle longer than need be.He was from Gujarat, Junagadh district. There was one right in her face. This one was special. This one looked almost too hard. The veins on Neal's shaft stood out in sharp relief. The shaft underneath looked like a bundle of sticks the veins were holding together. The head was huge, shiny, and close to purple. The last time she'd seen anything close to that was when Glen Detweiler had tried to impress her with his sexual prowess and used a cock-ring that was too small and had come close to strangling his dick. She'd had to pick the. More

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