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Roy managed to dodge the brunt of the catastrophe, only catching a few sticky splatters on his shoes and ankles. I fucking hate the mall. In the wake of the panic, Roy realized he had lost Ari in the crowd. He pulled out his phone and texted her, frantic. WHERE ARE YOU? He watched the three gray dots bob up and down on the screen until they were replaced with, HEADED india TO FOREVER 21. He slid desi the phone back into his pocket and found a directory beside the elevators. By the homemade time he walked into the bright, hideous cavern that called itself FOREVER 21, Roy had three texts from Ari. WHERE ARE YOU? NEED OPINION. COME TO DRESSING ROOM. He stepped over the mounds of discarded tank-tops, crop-tops and t-shirts that lay across the floor like corpses in the wake of a nerve gas attack, slowly making his way to the white neon sign that said “FITTING ROOM”. He poked his head in cautiously. “Ari?” “In here!” Came his daughter’s voice. He followed it to a black-curtained cubicle. “What’s up?” He asked. “Did you find anything?” Please, say you did and let’s get the hell out of here. “Maybe,” she answered. But I need your honest opinion.” He sighed, shrugged. At least she was including him in this ritual in its entirety. That meant something, didn’t it? “Okay,” he said. “Lemme see.” The black curtain was swept back, and with it, whatever indian fragile barrier had kept the bad thoughts from overtaking him. Goddamn. His daughter stood there in a black t-shirt, its v so deep it almost reached her belly-button. The shirt was tucked into a pair of tight black pleather shorts, and she was wearing a bright red bra underneath that pushed her breasts up to her goddamn chin. She had shiny black pumps on her feet that made her taller, almost as tall as her father. Heat rose in him, as he drank the sigh of her. “Well,” she said, shifting her weight, causing her breasts to jiggle in their crimson cups. “What do you think?” He swallowed, licked his lips with a dry tongue. “Turn around,” he said. She did so. Bhabhi Roy almost moaned. The skirt was far too short. If she were to bend over, it would slide all the way over her tight, perfect ass. I know she will be the bane of my sisterhood, but she is my best and only friend, so I’m stuck with her. “Do you want to reconsider?” She has claimed you as her Daddy. Molly gasped as the rubbery texture of her father's covered penis touch her vulva. Besides, my plate is Bhabhi full enough as it is.” (I sucked up her clitoris and surrounding labia lips into my mouth) "Right there. I remembered the naked bike ride, being naked on the beach when india everyone else around me was wearing indian clothes, the mechanical bull, and those hunks in the erotic dancing club. The ache swelled at the tip as this silky friction surged through me. He stepped quickly forward, causing my hand to slide down his pole and bring his cockhead to within inches of my mouth. His desi fingers rubbed slowly across to her sensitive nub, circling around her clit. Each thrust turned his stiff posture into a languorous sprawl until his legs splayed outside mine, and he was arching his back in pleasure, pushing his plump ass against me and clenching from within. The discomfort was not nice, but she had become accustomed to the hardness and coldness of the floor after a few hours, and she found she homemade could even manage to sleep. "O-oh, what's this?"