Okay, if you insist too much, I'll tell you my love story even though you may not find it different from any teenager. What do you think of that… uh… “Physical attraction” started with my love story. It all started when I was young. Man, those were the days… Old jeans the same as the power of seven old horses I love Bullet motorcycle but new T-shirts and new girls always. It was full of fun, romance, and sex.
Then Ganga came into our classroom, one day, to immerse me in his heart, in his love. Life began to change for me. I was the same but the feelings were now different. Bunking in college continues, but the focus changed. I have never been interested in digital communication classes but I put them on to stay behind so I can go to her… read with her beautiful eyes… to see her furry lips just talking to me, only to me… feel her breath while watching her rise and fall her breasts .I touch her sweetly Lips not even his fingers while exchanging letters and notes… Then one day, after fulfilling my wish, he left.
Love meant lust - it was nothing but the flow of testosterone that created the attraction to the body of an obese and powerful man, it was all about it. I was a voluntary person among my friends; but for the girls I was Casanova from college. It was just a matter of the church that I put on any girl. Simple tips that have always worked for me with a little variation here and there - an amazing introduction with a small shock wave, open a conversation to praise her beauty, see you again "", go for coffee, and meet my character again, go for a long drive followed by dinner or two in bed to sleep with. I have won countless bets from my friends for this ability. But when it comes down to it, I lost everything after winning the bet. I had sex with him but it wasn't matter. It sowed deep love for me. The first time I saw a woman differently...
bad habits and was always supported by many of my friends everywhere for a good time. No one told me I was wrong - I never was. But he did and it surprised me without objection, unlike what I was, I just followed him sincerely.
I quit smoking, no more beer party, marijuana started stinking, no bunking of classes… a serious, studious lover of his digital communication teacher. Our relation became subject of many whispers and gossips in the campus but she never bothered and kept protecting me by powerful shield of her love.
I was limited now to him or to the books. He became the reason for my presence. Love does not see equality between lovers. You don't have to be as good as I was with Ganga. She was five years older than me - a girl from a very familiar family in a village near Varanasi. There were many who began to blame Ganga for catching the rich little boy. Such remarks were already boiling my blood and I once broke my nose at the library's nose which passed dirty comments as we both went to his apartment in the evening.