No, despite everything, they loved me. I think I loved them, too. The problem with my childhood memories is that I remember lots of events. I remember...smells, tastes, things on my skin. I don’t remember feelings. Did I ever feel anything? Very basic things, perhaps. I remember raw curiosity each time we moved into a new flat. Exploring every corner, every room. Pulling up the carpet to see what that lump was beneath, investigating every stain on the wall. I remember that my primary school was. I nodded my head.Once again she got my promise that I should not tell anybody. Then she removed her blouse and saree one by one. Her breasts were bigger than yours. When she removed her petticoat I was shocked to see her pussy with a lot of black hair. I told her she has hair in that area. She smiled and told me that I will also get hair soon.She took my hand and kept my hand on her mound and rubbed her cunt. She said that is the place I have to keep my erect penis and celebrate. She pulled me. More

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