Indian Holi Festival

Amidst the dirt, it was just possible to distinguish a pair of tattered red sandals. My first alarming thought had been blood, but I decided to settle with red sandals – blood, after all would be slightly harder to ignore. Her legs appeared to have undergone some travesty also. Her white skin was speckled with grazes and cuts, one of which had left a thin dark trail running along the contour of her ankle. Her other ankle was decorated with a small gold chain desperate to separate itself from its troubled host. Her face was unremarkable. Her nose was small and slightly bent, offering her eyes a slightly disjointed expression. Underneath her tears, the eyes were just there. They offered no window to her soul, no clue to her person. No feeling. I think they were what struck me most and were certainly the part of her image that has woken me in a cold sweat every night since. The last detail I noticed was a beautiful cross hanging from a chain around her neck. The cross was sparkling. She said I started crying at first it hurt so bad. Then she said after a long time I was able to move up and down on it and as I did my pussy eased up the grip it had on him. She said that the first fuck lasted a hour. She feel asleep after he came in her , she said she woke up as he was sliding back into her. By the last time they fucked she said her pussy was nub and it was no trouble getting it in. I asked her if it hurt now. She said it aches , like if I had been kicked in the pussy. I aked if she was going to see him again. She said yes that he told her he wanted to meet for lunch on day next week and talk to her about allowing some of his close friends to come see her. I said where here? She said he didn't say where. I'd rather you didn't bring a lot of black guys here I said, the neighbors are nosey enough and they will start thinking you are a slutwife. She agreed. I asked her that night if I could look at her pussy? She laughted and said why? You are't going to get any of.
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