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I would masturbate on the roof top just seeing her, but could not gather enough guts to approach her. We continued to exchange books, and Pinki then became very friendly. Then one day when I went to her house, she was alone as her parents were away to a party, and I asked her to take a stroll with me in the park nearby. Pinki agreed, and we sat down in the park, close to each other. I took her hands in my hands, which she did not mind, but when I brushed her breast, she moved away. After sometime I tried again to rub her breasts, and she asked me “what are you doing. I am not that kind of a girl”. I held back from telling her what I had been seeing every day. We started going out to the same park regularly, and within the next couple of meetings, she had started allowing me not only to fondle her breasts, but squeeze them too. Her breasts would fit very well in my palms, and looked like I was squeezing oranges. While I was playing with her breasts, she allowed me to massage her. I slowly drew out of her, biting back a smile at her whimpers of protest and futile attempts to recapture me. I kissed her deeply, tongues battling, as I thrust into her, her mouth leaving mine as it opened in a perfect ‘O’ of pleasure along with those wide, surprised eyes- as if every time we made love it was the first. I moved inside of her, pulling down on her shoulders to reach deeper inside. She bit into my chest to stifle her moans, but one escaped- and we halted, trying not to move against each other as we waited for the breathing over the monitor to even out again. She smiled under me. ‘out like a light- just like her father’ she teased. I chuckled and kissed her, rolling over- taking her with me and letting her sink my full length back inside at her leisure. I pressed my thumbs into her hips and guided her motions as she rode me. Her fingers dug into my chest as she picked up speed, rocking me against her inner-walls. Her hair fell over her face as her eyes closed and her.
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