“Is it interesting or shall I do it in another way?” Prasanth asked while he was sucking her breasts after a brief pause.
Having heard his words, Swathi cuddled him tightly and sibilated. Then she suspired (utter with sigh)“You do it ago go (as much as one likes)
“I’m mad after your boobs, dear.” Prasanth extolled her and lapped her nipples like a cat lapping a cup of milk.
“Why so?” She asked vaguely.
“Now I suss out why Viswamithra was enamoured of the celestial Menaka.” Prasanth mumbled while he was sucking her dextral breast while another hand was kneading her sinistral breast.
The love-philtre she consumed mixed with the grape juice had its effect by which she was burning lasciviously.
“Do you compare me with the apsaraus?”
“To my eyes, you are also an Apsaraus. “
Gratified with his extolment, she hugged him tightly by which he couldn’t escape from her grip and continued her parlance:” You’re a maven in this art.”
“This entire credit goes to you only, Ma’am.”