Indian threesome action

He wore a crisp white shirt and slacks. "Come in," he told me. "Thank you," he said to the official. He was exactly as Alice had described him: blond... and fifty-ish. He was large without being fat. His eyes were a cold blue. His shirt could have probably paid for my food for two months. I stepped inside. It was lush and beautiful. I glared at him. "I'm here. What do you want?" "First, that you take a shower." "If you don't like the smell, you should have stuck to a camera view." He pointed. I knew his parents would be standing there frozen, unsure what to do or where to go. I didn't turn to look. "Well?" Christa," he whispered harshly, his brow furrowed, his blue eyes narrowed. He only used my name like that when I was "pushing my limits," as he liked to put it, but I just crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow. "This isn't the time or--" You know what," I cut in, my voice rising, sharpening, "I don't give a flying fuck whether your precious parents--hey! Goddammit!". More

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