Desi Boyfriend Fucked Me

His breathing was short and raspy. The look that came over his face was one I'd never seen before. His hands were on my legs, holding them slightly apart. My panties were long past damp and I knew if his hands went any farther he'd feel the moisture of my thighs. The top of my thigh highs were showing from under my skirt and suddenly I felt exposed. Our faces were only inches apart. I slowly let my eyes meet his and my heart stopped. His eyes appeared almost black and I found it hard to look away. "Don't you dare look away."It wasn't an option. It was a command. His hands began to make their way up my thighs and I wanted nothing more than to turn my head in shame. His hands were smooth but strong. He knew how to touch and how to do it well. It seemed like an eternity before he reached his mark. It was only his fingertips but that was all it took. "Well, well, well," his dark eyes almost seemed to gleam as his found my secret. "That would explain why you've been out of it, hun." He. I recognized the Boss's handiwork right away. He never was one for finesse or style but you got to give him one thing: when he sticks it in it stays stuck. So the stiff was his doing and you had to figure the bullet holes were the stiff's. All pretty simple, actually. Why the stiff had a piece and why the boss decided he'd be better off dead were no never-mind to me. If the boss figured he needed it, that's good enough for me.I was kind of puzzled by everything else that was going on, though. Now the boss was just standing there with that silly little stupid grin he has that seems to make all the women wet their panties, but he wasn't saying a word. Shit, he didn't need to. There were three waitresses in those skimpy little costumes they almost wear giving some stuffed shirt about as much hell as I've ever been privileged to witness, even the one leaning on a table favoring her leg. And that wasn't counting the little piece of fluff attached to his side. I think I remembered she was.
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