There’s a small café round the corner. XXX Enjoy your dinner!” She turned and walked back through the swinging doors. Was it some kind of fluke? The folks who ran it were a middle-aged Indian couple, the Rajputs, who were very sweet and very attentive. She clung earnestly to my head, her body pulsing with the shock waves of her orgasm. She led me downstairs and back out onto the street. Ashna wiped her leg with a wet dishtowel, making sure to clean the counter where my seed had spilled. She looked at me sweetly, almost sadly. Of course the bulk of my time was spent in London. I smiled sheepishly and closed the door. “Thank you so much for coming.” I couldn’t think of what else to say, so I stopped talking.
