Vintage Indian Couple Honeymoon
As I nodded yes to him, I could feel a surge of excitement run through me and I knew he was already making me wet. He kept his hand their on my thigh, squeezing it gently as we talked,He then said how he would love to just lift up my skirt and fuck me. I laughed thinking he was joking and said, sure like we could just fuck here. He looked at me with such a devilish grin and said yes we can. He then explained to me that downstairs, they have a standard bathroom with a shower, sink etc. He told me to go slip down there and he would come down in 5 minutes. I was so nervous, but damn I knew I wanted this young hot studs big black cock deep inside me. I was sitting there dripping wet with no panties on and I soon heard myself saying OK and got up and went downstairs. I quickly went into the bathroom and couldn't believe I was going to let this hot black stud take me right here in the bathroom. There was a light knock on the door and I heard him say hi. I opened the door and pulled him in. No one was awake, no one to see the sad sight of me. An artist I was once friends with called me tragically beautiful. A pretty girl made beautiful by her pain. I was too thin, too tall, my eyes were haunted and when I smiled even I knew it was bitter saccharine. So I ignored the woman in the mirror as I passed. The floor tilted beneath me from liquor and the loud death metal Bobby played below. I knew the stairs would betray me and so I summoned the little elevator. Up I went to my little palace with the view of the lake. I had a window seat that could hold twelve and during the day I sat on it and watched the sailboats and motorboats beyond. At night I watched the blinking green pier and thought of Fitzgerald. The bell dinged and the small doors opened, spilling me into the foyer. The pale green marble with the lapis trim always calmed me and I smiled once more, thinking of Tom Goddard. He was tall, slim, broad shouldered, dark- haired, devastatingly handsome, and queer as a three.
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