In the mean time his leg which was rubbing my thighs slowly removed my lungi from my thighs and now his bear thighs was on my thighs. Then i observed ...hat there is no cloth on his body. It was enough to male me hot. Slowly his figures started opening my shirts buttons. While opening my buttons his hand was also shivering. Vibrations of his hand made my tits rock hard. In hot weather i stared feeling cold on upper surface of breasts. Front portion of my shirt was opened it was only my arms now. I wrote Megan at least two letters a week. In return, she wrote me at least as often. Her letters were precious to me. She often sent me pictures of herself and our daughter Shelby. Roxie was her unofficial photographer, so some of the pictures were quite revealing. I had a collage of the pictures she'd sent me scotch-taped to the door of my wall locker, along with the sentimental Valentine's Day card she sent me. The irony of those innocent pictures on the door of where I stored my weapons of. More

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