Indian Wife Watchers
”“Good! Your eyes tell me that you haven’t been too shaken up. No pain in the head? No dizziness, specks in front of your eyes, no nausea?”“Other than my arm, and feeling sick, no, my head doesn’t hurt at all.”“Okay, hold still while I take your helmet off. It doesn’t look dented or cracked – thank you for wearing one, by the way. It makes life a lot simpler knowing that you had your head protected. Now, I’m just going to feel round for any lumps and bumps; if you feel the slightest bit of discomfort I want you to tell me straight away.”She had nice hair; it was indeed blonde all the way through, and cut medium-short in a simple but smart fashion. The long golden tresses tied up into bows and frills that had adorned her on stage had obviously been a wig; that style was clearly totally impractical unless, as Lady Bracknell had recommended, you employed an experienced French maid to run your boudoir.“Now, close your eyes. I’m going to touch your arms and your legs and I want you to tell. "What else?" Nothing," she replied. "Just thinking about you." Really? What were you thinking?" Just that you make me horny."I smiled and felt a stirring inside my jeans. "You make me horny too," I replied. "Are you alone?" Stacy asked. "Yeah. Why?" I asked. She went quiet again. "You wanna come round?" I asked. "I've got some beers." Okay," she said quickly and the phone went dead. I took a draw on my beer bottle and as I put it back onto the table I heard a knock at the door. As I opened my front door I saw Stacy standing on the door step, her cab driving away down my street. She looked unusually nervous. "Hey. Come in," I said stepping aside. She walked through the door into my hallway, the sight of her sexy body in tight jeans and a casual t shirt combined with her perfume caused another stirring in my jeans. I closed the front door and turned around, Stacy was in front of me. Before I could say anything she stepped forward and kissed me, her mouth open, her tongue sliding into.
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