The situation, the rawness and the arousal and unfamiliarity of it—added to the fantasy I had about the whole fetish thing when I came to India—go... the best of me, and, before the dancer laughed and danced his way back on stage, I creamed myself in my briefs. It was like I was a silly boy again with some sort of wet dream.As soon as I could gracefully withdraw, I did so. In the lobby of the hotel, I found Jeet, still grinning, standing between me and the bank of elevators.“Come with me,” he. Thank you all for your great positive feedback about this story, conveyed by you all in your thumbs up and your emails. I see a few thumbs down for this story. It would be appropriate if you send me the reasons by email so that I can improve on my next part.Please do not compare the contents of this story with the earlier 6 part story. That would not be fair. As explained earlier that story was my true life experience, while this one is a narration from my women friends who have confided in me. More

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