He was tall for a Borealan, eight feet and change, with broad shoulders and rust-colored fur that was patterned with faded tiger stripes. He was weari...g what looked like a cross between a suit of armor and an outfit made from light, billowy fabric, extensively decorated with vibrant patterns and colors. He wore a tunic made from flowing red material that was secured about his waist with a leather belt, a golden buckle standing out against the tanned hide, along with a pair of knee-length shorts. Whenever she was ‘checking me out’ I wasn’t giving direct eye contact. But when she did it a couple of times I looked into her eyes. Suddenly she looked down and began eating, giving no expression. So dinner was done. I told I’ll help in picking the utensils and stuff, though his parents refused.After that Sidharth told me lets hang out on the terrace for a while. I agreed and we went there to enjoy some fresh breeze. The terrace was above the first floor which had Bindu’s room. My sixth sense. Anyway he already had my clothes picked out. A very very short pink skirt, shiny pink cum fuck me pumps, shimmering nude stockings, push up pink bra with matching panties, and a tight low cut blouse. I looked like a hooker instead of a wife. He went over the rules again. Do not let any nigger touch me, fuck me, and especially do not kiss a nigger. Any white woman that would let a nigger fuck her or kiss her is a worthless low life piece of trash. Literally any white woman that would let a. I motioned for Megan to lock it, then did my best imitation of a phantom gliding down the street. I didn’t have the woodsman skills to move silently, but I did my best. It helped that the van’s engine was running and a breeze was blowing, moving shrubbery and making branches of the stunted trees bump around. When I got close, I could see the obese man standing at the rear of the van, facing it, and away from me.A part of me was aghast at what I was about to do. I was, or had been, a sworn.
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