An Indian Couple

’ I go around to the passenger side, opening it, I toss my bag inside first before I get in, closing it behind me as I reach for the seatbelt. I smile at him as he starts his hot ass car and goes off, knowing he needs me to tell him where he’s going. I’m tempted to just reach for his hand, just to stroke it, hold it. It’s not weird, this is a romantic weekend, that we both want and deserve. He’s at the stop sign on my street, waiting for me to tell him which way to turn, but I am too focused on. Before she knew it Jack’s final day had arrived and Tiffany was in a flood of tears when she saw him ride out of the gates for the last time. She was going to miss working with the man who had been a second father to her for the last two years, but they had promised that they would meet up every week for a catch up.After having the weekend off Tiffany turned up for work at the usual time, she was thinking to herself how strange it would be not to be working for Jack. Tiffany looked in disbelief. Didn't really know it beforehand, no friends here, no family, no job connections, nothing. Just a place for a fresh start. I rented a room in a house with a number of other rooms like mine. Agency rent, rather scruffy and overpaid but good for time being. I was single back then, fairly desperate to meet a lady and relax together. It took me a few weeks to find out in a room above lived one girl. Foreigner, just like me, yet with excellent English and Scandinavian accent that makes her speech. I was getting really excited, and was desperate to get working on hisbriefs. As gently as I could, I slipped my hand up his shorts andreached the warmth of his white briefs. Beneath I could feel the shapeof his hard teenmeat, and I began to stroke the length of his shaftclearly pressing through the boy's briefs. He lifted himselfslightly,and I took that as an invitation to tug his satin soccer shortsdown his thighs. The the youngster lay back again, openinghimself up to me in his tee-shirt.
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