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Swathi Naidu keeps the cam active to interact with her fans online. She leaves to the shower and comes after a while with the wet body. She smiles at her fans exposing her hot naked body to them. With the smile, she begins to dry her body and hair. Now, she plays a song in the background and begins to dance for it. You can see her fat ass and hot breasts clearly.
She wears a panty after that and shows the dress with the black and gold colors on it. She asks the fans if they like it. Then, she tells everyone that her birthday falls on November 5th and tells them to wish her on that day without fail. Finally, she wears her dress and leaves the home.
" Oh, sorry. Just lost myself in my phone for a moment." Never mind." It was the other girl from the table across the way. "Oh no, please." My friend and I have finished our drinks and we think they might ask us to leave in a minute, as it's so busy. Would you mind if we shared your table?"Deliberate move on their part, or genuine concern, he wondered. His brain (and second brain) started to work overdrive. Was this really happening? He had grown used to girls ignoring any attention he gave them. Not the most attractive type, a good five stone overweight and frequently ridiculed by girls he had the temerity to even look at, he found himself strangely torn. Was he now scared of what they might actually be doing this for? He had to say yes, surely. He hadn't even spoken to them and he was already writing the off as the arseholes he had endured for much of his life. Either way, she was getting bored and looked like she was about to walk away."Sure, take a seat."She waved across to her. Every tiny movement was painful, even breathing seemed to send slithers of hurt racing from my chest to my sleep-thick brain. I squirmed, regretting it instantly. Attempted to lift my head but my neck seemed fixed in position. Gradually, I inched my body over onto my side, grasping at the bedding with taloned fingers as I swung my feet onto the floor and levered myself into an upright position. I shuffled to the toilet, seated myself with difficulty, and peed. There was no blood. I was thankful. My body was a mess; gouged scratches covering my thighs, my stomach, my pubic mons, all of them stinging, some weeping. Beneath them the skin was an expressionist palate, vivid purples and yellows intermingling above an indigo and vermilion base, my natural alabaster hues lost in a see of aching, hurting bruises. My cunt was deformed; labia, vulva, clitoris now engorged burning lumps of flesh a cacophony of screamed complaints; no longer a pretty flower now more cathedral gargoyle. My ribs.
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