Indian Girl's Arse - 8

It had taken me a while to finish being made up.I walked through the front door of Har Zion Synagogue. I opened my talis bag and took out a knit, designer yarmulke and secured it to my hair with a bobby pin. Then I took out the talis, drew it over my shoulders and wrapped it around my arms. I put the bag in my coat pocket.I had been given a moustache and a full, bushy beard and a pair of glasses that didn't do anything but help obscure my identity. I was also aged with some wrinkles.I entered. Irritation fired voice. ‘Not serious?! Look at you—you could’ve been killed tonight if that car had hit you!’ His words plunged Ana back to the sidewalk. A frantic slideshow of images and impressions invaded her senses: the dog, screeching tires, bright lights and the brutal pain of a dislocated shoulder. Simon wasn’t exaggerating. She’d been taken aback by her own demonic reflection when she’d gone to bathroom. Her complexion had a gray cast to it, making her dilated pupils looked like two. "I looked down but had to nod. I said, "Anna, your man died from the Others' attack." The three girls sobbed as two received confirmation that their men had abandoned them to their fate and Anna upon being told that her mate was dead.Merry said, "Tom, I thank you. I offer myself as your slave whether you want me or not. I will not leave this place except as your slave." She walked before me and knelt before me and then prostrated her body with her hands gently holding to my ankle.The other two. Her hands slide the straps off my shoulders, down my arms, over my hands, right down to my fingertips. I watch in the huge mirror, my dress dropping to the floor in slow motion. Force of habit makes me step out of it and kick it to one side.Our eyes meet. Lana's hands rest on my hips, I can feel her warm breath on my neck. I feel Lana's left hand go back to my shoulder, she cups it in her palm, massages a few circles of magic before sliding her fingers along my neck, into my hair. She does this.
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