So as I walk towards the door, I do a small manoeuvre on my body so that the dhoti falls down slowly. I pretend to be shocked and try to catch it. But...by design, the dhoti falls on the ground, revealing all my stuff, there for anybody who wants to see. I pretend for a minute to be confused whether to pick up the dhoti and then to even try picking it up. But since my hands are full, it is obviously not possible. By this time, the girls are giggling and getting uncomfortable. So now I muster up. You are there for their pleasure. You wonder, where did I get them? Do any of them know you? Do all of them know you? Maybe you flirted with one of them before. Given someone a glimpse of your cleavage as you bent down? Maybe they are all strangers, black? white? Men? Women? What did I mean by you better know how many? Now you feel the hands on you again, wandering, touching, feeling. Your arms, legs, stomach, breasts, your hair, face and especially your lips. A hand touches your pussy again.. More

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