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Her blurred bindi on her fore head and the fresh shine in her face (which a fellow woman only can understand sufficiently indicated that she is thoroughly fucked by Raghu for a long time. How lucky the guy is? I felt jealous of him and I shot her a look but said nothing other than pointing towards a glass filled with flavored milk with floating ice cubes, I’d just poured for her. I started talking more calmly while she is savoring the drink. I told her she must stop seeing Raghu right now else Jaya may find out. I said I wouldn’t say anything to her mother if she agreed to this.Parimala refused to agree; she said she was old enough to decide who she saw for herself. She started on about how great Raghu was. I told her to shut up, that I did not want to hear anymore, I reminded her how stupid I am to take time to come around to look after her. Parimala’s cell phone rang in the kitchen and she hurried to get it. It was clear it was Raghu. I walked through, snatched the phone from her. If there was a gold medal for synchronised wanking, George and I would probably have won. I could feel my cock now getting harder. ‘Good boy,’ I thought. Turning to face George again I noticed he was well away now. Lost in his own fantasy world. His hand was moving almost faster than I could see. ‘So much for a slow start then,’ I thought. He was sitting back on the sofa, eyes closed concentrating on wanking himself off. I was puzzled. I hadn’t driven 20 odd miles to sit in front of a 70s Television playing a crap 80s porn film to crack one off with a guy I didn’t really know. I could have done that at home. Obviously the guy bit couldn’t have been done at home, but you get meaning. I continued rubbing myself with my right hand and took the initiative. I placed my left hand on George’s now exposed thigh. George jolted as if I had an electric current running through me and looked at me questioningly. “Would you rather be on your own?” I asked in all seriousness. He smiled “Sorry.
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