This is story of me with my friends Nitin and Snehal. Actually speaking, we were a group of 24 college friends who all had hired a bus and had left fo... Malsej Ghats on one rainy morning. As there were a couple of seats short, I let Nitin share thecouple seat on which I was seating along with Snehal. The journey was long and exciting. As usual, we all were playing Antakshari and Dumb(o)sherras. But on every jerk possible, Nitin did not miss a chance to brush my body. I was wearing a sleeveless. He paused only after he had added the fifth set ofthree strokes, bringing the running total to fifteen strikes.Blood continued to ooze from the angry red welts that the cane had etchedin the sleek flesh of Gail's round, arched bottom, careening over thesilken globes and down the backs of her firm, shapely thighs and calves. Gail had been reduced to tears at the completion of his previous strokes,and she whimpered openly now, through the film of saliva, mucus, tears,and running mascara that made. More

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