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She extended one hand down to touch her pussy, moving her hand slowly up and down. “I did this a lot while thinking about you,” Betts whispered. “Then, when I wanted to feel you inside me, I’d push a finger into my wetness.”As Tommy removed his slacks, he watched her put a finger into her pussy. He watched her eyes close softly as her finger began to move in and out.“Do you like watching me do this?” she asked.“Yes, I do,” Tommy replied with a raspy voice. “I like knowing that you think of me when you’re doing it.”“When I get close,” she whispered, her eyes still closed, “I use two fingers. I’ve always known that your cock would fill me.”Tommy watched as she added another finger inside. Her hand was moving faster. He couldn’t help but grasp his cock and stroke it. Her body was so perfect, and he could smell her sexual perfume filling his nostrils. He walked around the edge of the bed. Standing beside her, his stiff rod pointed at her face.Betts continued frigging herself as her eyes. We started bonding. I was telling him how much I missed brianis and dhall puris and he told me that his mum often made Mauritian dishes and that I was welcomed to accompany him any time. A. reminded me so much of my first love G. He was more mature (I think I have a thing for men who are older than me!!), very intelligent…a bit of a geek…but very sure of himself…he was very respectful and attentive to me.When we started playing and singing, I took my guitar and for the first time I took up the chords of a Mauritian song – By Cassiya – Ici kot nou eter. Everybody fell silent as no one knew the chords or the beat. It was just me and my guitar…and as I strum along the melancholic chords and lyrics, A. joined me for the chorus… I don’t know if it was the situation I found myself in…or whether I was more home sick that I realised or if it was the fact of sharing a private Mauritian moment with another Mauritian…but as I carried on strumming the song of Desiré Francois, tears started.
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