Her days had been a tumult of loss. She was born in Surat, India, and she had developed into the care-taker of her own family. Her mother died shortly...after her birth. She loved her father dearly. He had died mysteriously of a heart attack when Maryam was sixteen. As a care-taker she gave her three brothers nothing less than her love, because this particular woman overflowed with a bountiful love. At a young age she changed the diapers. She fed them milk and made their food. She held them as. You pressed down onto me, our chests meeting, and the feeling of skin-on-skin contact was intense for us both. I cried out and you groaned as my nipples brushed your chest, and you looked into my eyes hungrily as you leaned in to kiss me once again, this time with a renewed fury. I ran my hands desperately over your shoulders and arched into you, my body begging for more, and you reached down and removed my skirt and your jeans, leaving us in only our underwear. I could feel your hard, erect. More

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