Shadow Dancer From Bollywood

On a table. With wine being licked from every part of my body. (Behave yourself D’aunne!) It was considerably darker now, and as my eyes adjusted to the new lighting, I saw three people standing atop a strange stage: an amply endowed female of motherly age, dressed for the night’s occasion, a younger man standing handsomely next to her in full formal attire, and another man in front of them with a head mic upon him. The woman was quite sexy, and I found myself drifting into past readings of Literotica, a hardness rising in my slacks, unrestricted, since I wore no undergarments. I enjoyed the sensation, for it had been a while since I had been loved by an older woman. She had been so kind in the act, so giving, unlike any woman ever. Or since. (I miss you, Celine.) Mr. head mic gave his introduction in a quiet, steady voice. ‘Gentlemen and Ladies, may I present to you this evening’s entertainment?’ As customary at these events, the question required an answer. Unlike too many things. "Okay, sleepyhead, first thing's first, tell me your name." I want to get dressed," she said instead of answering his question."Tell me your name, and then you can get dressed." Harley." Harley," he repeated her. "Don't try to escape like that again," the harsh warning tone in his voice made Harley look away."You said I could get dressed." Here." He handed her a gown, nice, but practical."Turn around," she demanded when he just stood there watching her. She could feel that she was naked under the covers, and she would be damned before she would give him the satisfaction of changing in front of him."Harley dear, I've already seen all your charms, there's really no point to your modesty now," but despite his words, he turned around, crossing his arms against his chest. Harley got out of bed and quickly donned the dress he had given her, noting how the dirt had been washed from her body, her cuts cleaned."Okay," she said when she was dressed, prompting Cal to turn back around."You look.
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