Learning To Love From India

Dawn made coffee and poured the two of them the coffee. She put sugar and milk on the table and cut them each a piece of pie. Dawn sat down, and Maggie started to do her make-up.She put on some moisturizer all over Dawn’s face. Afterwards, she applied foundation in the areas that she needed it most and around her nose and under her eyes. She applied concealer under her eyes. She did that in a triangle and dabbed with her ring finger. Blending was always quite critical with make-up. Of course my showering and shaving was for his pleasure, I was going to fuck him, something he was unaware of, and the more I thought of it, the more relaxed and excited I became.He was going to be the benefactor, my husband being the voyeuristic instigator, he loved creating these scenarios, and I submitted to his perversions, in his eyes as a willing wife, but deep down the slut in me craved to be fucked while other men watched.I reached out and picked-up my stockings, a large diamond lace,. She'd even called him 'Dr. Little,' at the end. That had hurt him worse than if she'd drawn her gun and shot him through the guts. And without a second look, she'd turned on her heel and walked out of his life.He poured the latest in a long line of bourbons and sucked it down, wishing the burn in his esophagus would provide some warmth to the cold, dead space where his heart had been. He'd meant to tell her - honestly he had - but the time was never right. And he'd certainly never meant to fall. With Reston's help we not only isolated the virus, but re-wrote it to only go after specific files.It took several weeks, but eventually we had it all set up the way we needed it and took the server back. One of the trickiest parts of the whole operation would normally be not disturbing the existing fingerprints. Fortunately we didn't have to worry about that; all we had to do was have Hightower go in after we put it back and move it around; a loose mouse cable was all the excuse we needed for.
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