Horny Indian Aunty Riding

She said she suddenly didn't feel good. I called a taxi and she left for home.It took a month until we started seeing each other again, apart from Phil. She never really told me what happened, but I guessed. I suppose she didn't think it wise to fuck my husband right under my eyes. And maybe Phil didn't understand.You're right. I'm bitter. Shouldn't be, but I am.That long weekend I am referring to was the absolute pinnacle of summer. It was sweltering. A merciless sun beat down from a cloudless sky and yet there was a lovely little sea breeze. Thursday night was lovely. I sat with Irene on the terrace sipping wine. She had arrived that afternoon and had found a way to take Friday off. Eric was still in the city, he would join us the next evening.Even being almost sure that she fucked Phil, I loved her company. Then again, I had hardly a choice, had I? My world would be definitely empty without her. I had no choice but to rejoice. No alternative but to be happy and keep my mouth. Obey."Abruptly, Tejal sat back down. She immediately turned to face the wooden dummy. Okay, I'll play your childish game, she thought. I don't know how you're doing this, but... Tejal froze. The dummy wasn't sitting on its case anymore. Instead, it sat next to the case, up on a couple of cardboard boxes filled with t-shirts. One of the boxes was partly ripped open. The dummy, impossibly, reached down into the open box, and pulled out a black shirt emblazoned with its likeness. TALK TO BARTLEBY, HE'S AMAZING!!!, proclaimed the logo on the top of the shirt."Like the shirt says," the wooden puppet said, "talk to me." Its little wooden jaw clacked as it spoke. "Skip past the shit where you explain how smart you are, though. You figured it out, Benedict and Brian are the same person. The same stupid person, I might add. Bra-fucking-vo." The puppet clapped its small gloved hands together sarcastically.Tejal blinked, unable to speak. She still couldn't believe what she was seeing. Or.
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