I quivered somewhat and slightly twitched when Mina next touched my sack. But when I felt the warmth of her moist mouth, my meat flute perked right up. I then received the best skull of my life as Mina greedily devoured my pole of potency. She imbibed on my shaft like she was sucking on a milkshake with a strawberry globule stuck to the bottom of the straw that had cut off the flow of ice cream. Within seconds, Mina had swilled my balls dry and had a mouthful of my salty cream. I nearly fell asleep in her bed from the relaxing aftermath of having been gummed by the Hindu whore. Moments later though, I still managed to roll out of Mina’s bed, jerk my pants back on, and drive home.
During the many late night house calls that followed my introduction to Mina’s jaw piece, I fed my stiffy to her on a regular basis. My booty call sessions with Mina developed into a solid pattern of me mauling her luscious lumps for several minutes before she offered up some quality brain. Over the course of the several months that I exploited my Indian concubine, she must have consumed over a gallon of eggnog from slobbing my knob. But, as with most intense fluid exchanges, the good sex just didn’t last.
Over time, Mina wanted more from me than just my midnight rendezvous inside her bedroom under the cover of darkness. While I had been draining my yogurt down her throat, the jizz guzzler had somehow caught feelings for me. Mina wanted a relationship and told me that she "wanted to be treated like she was some delicious treat instead of just fast food." She wanted to go out, or at least see me during the daylight hours at some point. Mina attempted to extend my nightly visits by anyway she could. She showed me nude pictures of herself that her husband had previously taken of her. Mina told me about her family, her daughter, and about her previous relationship, all between the brief moments that it took for me to pull up my pants and exit her front door. I never bothered to listen to her or entertain much conversation. But when Mina started asking me personal questions about my life, I knew that it was time to flee. Soon after my interactions with Mina turned from straight sex to talk of feelings and relationships, I terminated my affair with her.
As it turned out, throughout the entire span of my genital communion with Mina, I never once met her outside of her home. Or in daylight for that matter. I never took Mina anywhere or spent one dime on her. Our relationship was purely sexual. Also, other than me poking her pussy and fondling her huge chest dumplings, I never reciprocated oral sex with Mina. We often dined in but I never ate her out. In the end, my mutually profitable exchange with Mina furthered my belief in the firm work ethic and business prowess of Indian immigrants, at least those who have gargantuan-sized tits and have the ability to feed upon my love lollipop with their gums.
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