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Kritikaji fled her house after the incident at the office; her folks did not trust her version and wanted nothing to do with her. She lived with Smriti and I, and both of us loved her too much to deny anything. Although I do her wrong – she loved me more than Smriti and was always gentler and more compassionate than my Mistress (as the incident from the last story showed). It was Kritikaji who convinced Smriti to even consider selling me; Mistress was dead against it initially.So we got our background checks run. Thankfully, they asked for the last ten months’ bank account report as part of the background check and we seemed like filthy stinking rich fucks on its basis; we got the hundred and fifty lakhs in installments of ten lakhs for the first year and the last thirty in one go. And we eventually went for our first meeting; obviously with no intent of buying or selling – we just wanted to check the place out first. The meeting happened in the residence of one of the community’s. “I want it. Can I have it? Pwetty please.” she pouted, her tiny fangs sticking out like little white triangles over her bottom lip. I didn’t answer her, simply pulling her head down towards my cock. She did not struggle. Slowly she rolled her tongue along the throbbing pink head, sending shivers all over my body. I wanted her bad. “SUCK IT YOU FUCKING WHORE!” I yelled, grabbing her blonde hair and dragging her head closer. She didn’t answer, more squealed in excitement, as she took the head in her warm, wet mouth. Slowly her head bobbed up and down on my big, hard cock as she slid her tongue along the shaft, playing with my balls in her free hand. I moaned as she moved more and more of my erection into her small mouth, completely filling her until she was forced to take me into her throat. “YES!” I yelled, moaning and grunting loudly as she pleasured me in ways I had never been pleasured before. She moved faster now, going up and down, taking my whole cock. Her breasts were moving up.
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I could definitely imagine and in fact I already had imagined. After seeing those shirtless pictures of him, I spent the next night alone in my bed rubbing my dripping wet pussy to a number of mouth-watering orgasms as I imagined his body on mine. Our texts over the next few days became more and more explicit as he told me what he wanted to do to me. It was getting to the point where I couldn’t concentrate any longer. All day at work images of our bodies together filled my mind. One minute it was him thrusting into me from behind, grabbing my hair and spanking me. The next he was on top of me with one hand around my throat and his tongue buried in the back of my mouth while the headboard pounded against the wall. I was constantly wet, each day I’d come home and step out of another sopping pair of panties. This was crazy, I’d never talked to anyone like this, let alone to someone who I hardly knew. I don’t know what it was about him but the way he texted me made me crave him. By the.

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