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“[Let it be, Chitra. I’m not hungry. I’m upset.]“Rajesh ne kabhi mujhse aise baat nahi kee. Sabse zyada to mujhe dukh hai. Suhagraat se leke aaj tak usne shayad char baar bhi mere saath pyar nahi kiya. Aur wo kehta hai kie uski azaadi chali gayi. Namard kahi ka.” I began to sob [till today Rajesh has never spoken so rudely. It is me who should be complaining. He has not fucked me more than four times since our first night. And he tells me that he is imprisoned. Bloody impotent bastard!] Monty’s. All of that was OK by me. I was learning that the more re-runs and reality programming showed up on the summer schedule, the earlier in the evening Tess and I would turn to our other major source of recreation: Hot sex.I was a little leery, though, about putting any moves on her, the night before the tournament started. Tess would be facing 143 other hungry female professionals the next morning in the opening round. It would be a cut-throat competition -- too many outstretched hands reaching. I gathered her hair between my fingers as she kissed my neck, nibbling the soft recess between my collar bone and shoulder. Our fingers were stroking and gliding over each other’s bodies, working up to the random moment when bras were unclipped and panties gently slid over hips and bottom. The feel of her totally bare skin against mine was such a turn on. I rubbed the mound of my pussy against hers as we exchanged ever more passionate kisses. I rolled Elizabeth over and continued to rub against. What a strange feeling, down on my knees, dressed in a skimpy maid's outfit, performing fellatio on a rubber cock in front of a room full of women. The sensation of the rubber cock was entirely different than Officer Burt's or Detective Harry's flesh and blood cocks. I couldn't keep myself from making the comparison and realizing that I preferred the real thing. What was I thinking? Two weeks ago I was just a regular guy, an attorney in a big San Francisco firm telling others what to do and now.
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