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When this long-distance relationship was driving me crazy, I would call Jenny and meet her at the local pub for a booty call, that's where I saw Priya for the first time. For nine months, at least, Priya and I never really sought any sort of conversation, she always seemed happy when she was in the arms of her boyfriend. However, every time that we saw each other, our eyes would meet and she would penetrate my soul, straight through to my big black cock, with her gold-flecked coffee-colored eyes. That fact made it very uncomfortable when Danielle was around, because she was a very possessive and jealous Italian woman. She had every reason to be, because all I could think about was Priya and my 9-inch cock showed it. When she moved to "The Cape", that made it easier for her and I, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Danielle and I ate at Shalimar, an Indian restaurant near my house, all the time. We were making love to Ravi Shankar records almost every night and taking weekly Yoga classes. When I started collecting brass idols of Durga and Kumari, Danielle got the hint and had enough. We had a big fight in Harvard Square. We both argued about mutual cheating and mutual disrespect. I spoke up about her racist mother, and that was the end of that. She broke off our two and one half-year relationship, leaving me thinking about all that fantastic fucking and that perfect ass driving back down "The Cape," alone. I felt bad about what set her off, having that to deal with could break anybody. As if by fate, Priya turned the corner and almost knocked me over, all of my spirits lifted. Her sweet smelling 5 foot 4 inch frame donned winter gear, but underneath there was a body ...

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