02-07-2019, 02:25 PM
"Oh, thanks, Ajay. Well, I knocked on the door and it opened in a second. A man was standing there. He looked like Mr. Malik, but older. I guess he was seventy-five or so. His face was wrinkled like a cotton dress thrown in a pile, but he had a big smile as he looked at me up and down. Really, Ajay, I was so disappointed. I was looking forward to some action with Mr. Malik and he sends me to an old folks home. But I smiled and tried to act happy.
'I'm Muhammad Asif Malik. Call me Horse. All my friends do.' the man said.
I shook his hand, but he didn't let go, pulling me into the room and closing the door behind me. Ajay, there were three other old men sitting on the couch and a man in a wheel chair. He introduced them. Dabban, the man in the wheelchair, said he was ninety-one.
I noticed a video camera in his lap and I knew they were going to photograph me. Babar was next to him. Babar was eighty-three. He was only about five four and did not weigh any more than I do. He was so scrawny. Ajay, I was afraid he might break. Then, Emran.
Emran was way stooped over, with one of those humps on his backs like real old men get. He was leaning on his cane, his head up, peering at me over trifocals. Shammi was last. Shammi had a huge belly. He was wearing his house slippers.
Oh, Ajay, I was getting really down now. I wanted some fun. What fun could I have with these old men? Well, let me tell you, they had some fun planned!
Horse pointed to a straight chair, sitting about a foot away from the wall.
"Sit there, girly girl,' he said with a grin.
I sat down. Horse put a hand on each of my thighs and pulled me to the edge of the chair, so I was hanging off it. He picked up my feet and brought them back so the long high heels were hooked behind the chair legs. I could not unhook them without sliding back in the chair, so I was trapped there. That brought my knees out at an angle like this and really spread my legs. Suddenly, all five of them were looking into my shaved pussy.
'Should I take off my dress?' I asked.
Emran replied, "Leave it on, You look like more of a slut with it flopped open like that.'
Oh, Ajay, I did look like a slut, a real cheap slut, with my knees so wide and my heels locked behind the chair legs. Horse pulled me forward a little more. I was so open in front of them. Horse went into the kitchen. He came back in a minute with a fishing pole and a zucchini. Look, Ajay, my pussy is dripping just from telling you about this!"
She was dripping, too. Madhu, my little slut wife, was dripping like a faucet. She dipped her finger in her pussy and licked it clean. Then, she dipped again and offered it to me. Of course, I opened my mouth. Her pussy tasted great.
"Well, Ajay, Horse pulled some line from the pole. It was clear line. Whatyacallit?"
"Monofilament line."
"And it had a little thing on the end. He showed it to me, said it was for attaching lures. He called it a spinner. It had a catch. He clipped it onto the ring in my clit hood.
'Ole Horse done caught himself some real fish now,' Emran said.
'Now, honey, you masturbate on this veggie here while we watch.'
The zucchini was cold, very cold. I shivered when he handed it to me. I put the cold veggie to my pussy lips, moving it around to lubricate it. Horse sat down with the fishing pole in his hand. He pulled the line tight and it tugged my ring. Oh, Ajay, I was still so horny from swinging in the limo, when he started pulling on that ring, I just about came!
'Don't touch your pretty little twat, girly girl. Just use the veggie,' Horse said to me.
It was so cold, but my pussy felt like a gaping hole. I had to have something up me. I started to squirm from the coldness. Then Horse pulled the line. He was really making me dance with that fishing pole. I started inching the zucchini up my pussy. I was so wet, Ajay. Can you see me, fucking myself on a zucchini with my clit tethered to a fishing pole while five dirty old men watch? I mean, is that world class slut or what!
Oh, Ajay, you're so hard again. Well, this time you'll have to wait!"
"I don't want to wait. I want to fuck you."
"Fuck yourself, wimp!"
"Mr. Malik'll punish you for that, Madhu."
She stared at me, a nasty, demeaning stare.
"Well, if that isn't the wimpiest, queerest sounding thing anybody ever said to me. Real masculine, Ajay. What a man! Threatening me with your boss! Like a three-year-old. Why don't you be a man, you worthless wimp? Why don't you take me! A real man would. But then a real man wouldn't let his woman be the slut of his boss, would he?"
I didn't like that. I didn't like it one bit. After all, she wanted to be his slut. She wanted Mr. Malik to fuck her and make her pregnant. I was trying to be understanding, to be loving! I was trying to make the bitch happy!
She rolled over, exposing the back of her thighs.
'I'm Muhammad Asif Malik. Call me Horse. All my friends do.' the man said.
I shook his hand, but he didn't let go, pulling me into the room and closing the door behind me. Ajay, there were three other old men sitting on the couch and a man in a wheel chair. He introduced them. Dabban, the man in the wheelchair, said he was ninety-one.
I noticed a video camera in his lap and I knew they were going to photograph me. Babar was next to him. Babar was eighty-three. He was only about five four and did not weigh any more than I do. He was so scrawny. Ajay, I was afraid he might break. Then, Emran.
Emran was way stooped over, with one of those humps on his backs like real old men get. He was leaning on his cane, his head up, peering at me over trifocals. Shammi was last. Shammi had a huge belly. He was wearing his house slippers.
Oh, Ajay, I was getting really down now. I wanted some fun. What fun could I have with these old men? Well, let me tell you, they had some fun planned!
Horse pointed to a straight chair, sitting about a foot away from the wall.
"Sit there, girly girl,' he said with a grin.
I sat down. Horse put a hand on each of my thighs and pulled me to the edge of the chair, so I was hanging off it. He picked up my feet and brought them back so the long high heels were hooked behind the chair legs. I could not unhook them without sliding back in the chair, so I was trapped there. That brought my knees out at an angle like this and really spread my legs. Suddenly, all five of them were looking into my shaved pussy.
'Should I take off my dress?' I asked.
Emran replied, "Leave it on, You look like more of a slut with it flopped open like that.'
Oh, Ajay, I did look like a slut, a real cheap slut, with my knees so wide and my heels locked behind the chair legs. Horse pulled me forward a little more. I was so open in front of them. Horse went into the kitchen. He came back in a minute with a fishing pole and a zucchini. Look, Ajay, my pussy is dripping just from telling you about this!"
She was dripping, too. Madhu, my little slut wife, was dripping like a faucet. She dipped her finger in her pussy and licked it clean. Then, she dipped again and offered it to me. Of course, I opened my mouth. Her pussy tasted great.
"Well, Ajay, Horse pulled some line from the pole. It was clear line. Whatyacallit?"
"Monofilament line."
"And it had a little thing on the end. He showed it to me, said it was for attaching lures. He called it a spinner. It had a catch. He clipped it onto the ring in my clit hood.
'Ole Horse done caught himself some real fish now,' Emran said.
'Now, honey, you masturbate on this veggie here while we watch.'
The zucchini was cold, very cold. I shivered when he handed it to me. I put the cold veggie to my pussy lips, moving it around to lubricate it. Horse sat down with the fishing pole in his hand. He pulled the line tight and it tugged my ring. Oh, Ajay, I was still so horny from swinging in the limo, when he started pulling on that ring, I just about came!
'Don't touch your pretty little twat, girly girl. Just use the veggie,' Horse said to me.
It was so cold, but my pussy felt like a gaping hole. I had to have something up me. I started to squirm from the coldness. Then Horse pulled the line. He was really making me dance with that fishing pole. I started inching the zucchini up my pussy. I was so wet, Ajay. Can you see me, fucking myself on a zucchini with my clit tethered to a fishing pole while five dirty old men watch? I mean, is that world class slut or what!
Oh, Ajay, you're so hard again. Well, this time you'll have to wait!"
"I don't want to wait. I want to fuck you."
"Fuck yourself, wimp!"
"Mr. Malik'll punish you for that, Madhu."
She stared at me, a nasty, demeaning stare.
"Well, if that isn't the wimpiest, queerest sounding thing anybody ever said to me. Real masculine, Ajay. What a man! Threatening me with your boss! Like a three-year-old. Why don't you be a man, you worthless wimp? Why don't you take me! A real man would. But then a real man wouldn't let his woman be the slut of his boss, would he?"
I didn't like that. I didn't like it one bit. After all, she wanted to be his slut. She wanted Mr. Malik to fuck her and make her pregnant. I was trying to be understanding, to be loving! I was trying to make the bitch happy!
She rolled over, exposing the back of her thighs.
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