Desi Teen Girl Losing Virginity To Her Lover
Nobody around. Safe. I step to the back of the car, fob the trunk and dump the empty cans in. I tuck one full can down the front of my pants and the other goes in my jacket pocket. My jacket is long enough to provide cover for the two can bulges. I close the trunk and look around again. No cars and no pedestrians. I tug my baseball cap down low over my eyes and move quickly across the street. I am scurrying, similar in movement to the guy who parked beside me. Scurrying as a rat would. Guilty. Embarrassed. Ashamed. This was the second warning regarding the great experiment. If you have to scurry to get where you are going, you must be doing something wrong. I already knew this, didn’t I? I sure did. Desperation makes you do desperate things. I am less than thirty feet from the entrance to the brick building, moving smartly. A guy comes out of nowhere, perhaps from between the buildings, sort of cutting in front of me. What the hell? He is taller than me, at least six foot. Entering the gates to the resort was breath taking. Massive rustic buildings and spectacular landscaping with waterfalls and fall foliage made for a Norman Rockwell painting. We found the restaurant and attendants opened my door, while the valet took the car, and then others opened the doors leading inside. The hostess asked my husband his name and led us directly to a table beside a huge window overlooking the lake and the Ozark hills. An oversized stone fireplace cast warmth and a flickering light on the wall next to our table. The service we experienced was second to none and the food was outstanding. By the end of the meal I was starting to relax for the first time in a week. When the waitress arrived with our bill she handed my husband a card and told him it was the pass key for our cabin. She also assured him our luggage had already been placed in the cabin as he had requested. He thanked her, signed the bill, and we left. All of a sudden the tension in the pit of my stomach.
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