The Dancer Is Indian
I gasped for breath, having rolled both of us to the side to avoid crushing her mother, and placed my hand on a truly obscene sight. On a normal sized woman, such a belly would have been impossible. On her small frame, a belly large enough to hold twelve full grown human babies was surreal. I could have crawled inside and found it quite comfortable.I could feel her twitching in my grasp, small orgasms rocking her constantly as every egg found a match. Reluctantly, I pulled my penis from her still gripping kitty, not a drop spilling out as it closed shut behind me. As much fun as that was, it might not have been a good idea. I looked at her as she moaned incoherently, drooling on the floor in a constant state of orgasmic delight. I wondered if it’d been too much for her. But I knew my own limits. Pulling out wasn’t exactly on the menu. I’d have to think of other ways to avoid pushing them this far again.My stomach suddenly lurched and I vomited more of the little green things, a large. Exquisite, utterly extraordinary... to touch. My body felt alive. For the very first time I felt a sexual connection tothis body...throughout this body.I left my girlfriend's old bra on the hook in the dressing room andwatched in the mirror as I stepped into the black dress. It was time tobuy my first bra. I felt a new confidence. She must've noticed that I wasn't wearing the old one as I walked up nextto her at the racks. "These will be a lot better fitting," she said."It was my girlfriend's," I told her. She looked at me. Maybe I should've nodded. I looked back at her. "I am a lesbian," I thought. I wondered if she heard that. She turned to the bras. "You're a full C. A 36. Are you looking forjust everyday? Something nice? Support? What are you thinking."What was I thinking. I couldn't stop thinking. A swirl of emotions andthoughts and feeling were going around my head. My body."Um...every-day I guess. Something pretty," I said.She picked out three bras for me. .
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