Desi Beauty Sharp Tits

I miss his raspy voice, his mop of curly hair, the smell of his Gucci cologne. I miss sipping coffees at the Beachwood Cafe, taking bubble baths together in my giant tub, discussing the books we've read, trying to teach him French. He told me I was the first girl he truly loved. I truly loved him as well. It's like he was the male version of me, and I the female version of him. We were perfect for each other. But then he had to go and mess it all up...I pick up my phone and tap on his name. I look at his contact photo, a picture of him playfully sticking his tongue out at my camera lens, liveliness bright in his eyes.Those were the days.But, no. I can't call him. I love Theo now. He's absolutely amazing and is so wonderful to me. And yes, I do call him baby, and we do walk around his parents' gallery. I love doing both of those things. I love Theo. I'm his now.But I can't help myself. After hearing those songs, hearing how much regret he has, my body is longing for him. My heart is. He fairly flew up the stairwell, poking his head out of the stairwell door at each level hoping to catch which level Ali would be parking on. Ali had finally found a space to park her car on the fourth level and was just locking the car door when the wind blew through the open side of the building and seemed to be channeled by the pillars so that, as it hit her, it felt more like a gale force wind. The gust spread the overlap of her coat, gathered under the material and lifted the coat almost completely up around her waist just long enough for a recently arrived, panting Dan to get an eye-full of Ali’s attire and her shaved pussy. “Sweet Jesus,” exclaimed Dan. Stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropped as fast as the folds of Ali’s coat fell back into place. Ali was incoherent. Babbling, her face beet-red in embarrassment, as she frantically tried to regain her composure. It took her what seemed an eternity to realise it was Dan who was standing there, gawping at her..
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