Ritika Ansari Fucked By Boyfriend
Her arm was broken, head wounds, slight concussion. You know where she is?’ ‘She don’t want no help. I asked her and she don’t want no help. She’s scared.’ ‘Hanny I promise to not let anything bad happen to her but let me see her and talk to her and if she says no, then I promise to leave it. Ok.’ ‘You promise?….only she’s got a fever and the pain killers I got her aren’t helping.’ ‘Come on Hanny show me where she is.’ Taking the last gulp of her cup of tea the girl stood up. ‘She’s not far from here. Come on.’ * Walking into the back of the arch, stepping over the discarded and dirty refuse that littered the area, Kelly squinted as she passed from the light to the shadowed and dingy depth of the old Victorian arch that formed part of the railway line running eventually over the bridge across the River Thames. The smell was sour, stale sweat mingled with the sweet pungent smell of smoked spliffs. Cardboard covered the floor at the back of the arch along with a discarded shopping. " it was him, Hitler, Monsieur Gerard, with his Hitler moustache and thinning hair."Aaaiieee." Michelle squealed as she tried to cover her breasts."You look divine." he said, "An angel." I'm a mess sir, sorry." Michelle apologised."Anna, do her hair the simple style, like the photograph, like this one." M. Gerard pulled a old worn wallet from the pocket of his old brown suit and removed a much creased photograph."When we first met," he said. Michelle recognised her old publicity photograph, when her hair was straight, not her trademark frizzy look, and when a Tee shirt and Hot Pants had been her chosen attire not three thousand dollar designer dresses."Certainly Jean-Paul, I mean Monsieur Gerard." the woman said and blushed."I shall take these to the Laundry," M.Gerard announced as he collected up Michelle's clothes and shoes, and she just watched him take them, leaving her naked, trusting something would be provided to hide her nakedness.Michelle watched him retreat, closing the door.
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