Kiraz lets her head tilt back, smiling. She closes her eyes. With her long, elegant hand she lifts her other massive boob, holding it upk, offering it to me.
But she said, faintly, "I did not tell you all they did to me. How they dared to treat me. What my husband permitted."
I stopped, horrified that there was more. Feeling a bit of shit for jumping her.
Still holding her boobs, I asked: "What?"
Kiraz stood up, very slowly. The long legs, the rounded belly, then the long torso to the divine cliffs...
Without a word, she puts her fingers on either side of her slacks, and her panties, too, and slowly pushes them down. As she bent over, I gazed at the levitated breasts. She slowly straightened up, her hands hungs by her sides, her eyes closed. Tears began to run down her cheeks.
She said, "They did this. Donna, the nurse. She planned it. She had everything with her. When she and Charlie 'ran into' Johnny."
I looked down the gorgeous body to the brown belly and to the animal black fur. Could not miss it. The thickest, heaviest gold labia ring I ever saw hung from Kiraz's dark, almost black pussy lip, dragging it down two inches. I knelt to look more closely.
Yikes! My own pussey felt funny. Part fear, part excitement. Many thoughts raced through my mind. Wild thoughts. Call the police. Call a place for abused women. Call Amnesty International. Tell her to tell her mother's brothers. Take her to an emergency room. Call her husband and scream for an hour. Ask to meeet him, then bring my knee up between his legs over and over. Fantasies.
I looked up, at last, to Kiraz's face. The tears had stopped. She was gazing down at me. I looked up between her incredible breasts with the nipples that seemed to stick out two inches.
Still look up, I asked: "She's a nurse?" And I thought, probably ought to go to jail.
"Yes," said Kiraz, "she has come back every day to examine me for infection."
Oh, my! Thank heaven for responsible people. Ah, shit...
"Does it hurt you?"
She shook her head, the gorgeous hair swirling. Smiling again. "I feel the weight. I am always a little aroused feeling it down there."
Johnny, Charlies, Donna, here's to you! You ain't dumb. You understand your victim's psychology.
"Can I feel?"
"Oh yes, Ellen!"
I gingerly lifted the big gold ring, taking the weight from the dark dewlap of her labia. I traced her pussy lips with the tip of a fingernail. The nest of shiny woman hair, curling everywhere, made me want to bury my face in it. And please realize I am mostly hertero.
I tickled her, deeper, deeper, until her knees sagged. My hands went around her and clutched her butt cheeks. Dear God what handfuls! I grabbed and squeezed, dragging her loins toward me until my face was buried in her pussy hair.
Halting for a moment, just smelling of her. Do Turkish girls secrete Guerlain or Cartier?
I look up. She says: "I love this, but now all I am belongs to my husband."
Her hands are on my head, ever-so-gently pushing me away.
I stand up. She is completely naked now. I am looking into her eyes. "Does your husband like what they did to you down there?"
"I don't know." That face from the myths of mortals and gods goes deep red.
I am getting pissed, jealous. "Has he touched you there?" My forefinger with infinite tenderness has reached down and slipped through the golden ring. I am thinking about a wedding of pussies. I could fastened a beautiful leash to her ring and lead her naked to the altar.
Kiraz's eyes are closed. She shakes her head. As though suddenly vulnerable, her hands slide down to cover, to protect, the breasts.
"Then what?" I demand. "What do you do with Johnny?"
"Ellen, I think he is wanting Donna... Very much."
Happy New Year, everyone!
Better fucking, cock-sucking, shit-eating luck next year!
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