I Am A Beautiful Indian Girl I Like Music.
We lived in a city on the Gulf of Mexico on the southwestern coast of Florida, and while we lived there the far north end of one of the barrier island's beaches was known as the "topless" beach. It was never officially sanctioned as a topless beach, but the authorities mostly left folks to their own devices.There was a wooded area behind this beach that was really an intricate maze of mangrove, sand, and Australian pine trees. I say it was a maze because the area was "cruised" regularly by gay men, who created secluded paths through regular traffic and build shelters and hideaways with branches and bushes.Karen was a gorgeous, raven haired girl with blue eyes, naturally tanned skin, tiny A-cup breasts, with a knockout bubble butt and great legs. She loved to show off, and loved the attention she got from exhibiting her hot body to appreciative audiences.I loved to buy her clothes and shoes that showed her off, so we were a perfect pair (at least in that sense ... there were other. As I watched her getting settled in I thought what a cute outfit she was wearing. She was taller than me, I judged about six foot tall, and had the prettiest denim skirt and little denim bolero jacket, which covered her peasant girl blouse, and judging from appearances a nice firm bust. While we sat to get ready for takeoff she explained to me that she had been visiting her father in Mumbai, a well known Doctor who was separated from her mother, and was returning to Delhi. She also let it be known that she was terrified of flying with her hand touching my knee. My radar hadn’t gone off to tell me if it was just her way to touch or if she was interested in women, but as I watched her cute little face, I became more and more interested in finding out if she liked women, because if she did I was way ahead of her trying to think of a way to get her in bed with me. Her terror of flying was on, and her hand was still on my knee, softly brushing her finger on my warm knee. While my mind was.
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