Indian Crying
It was an expression that I could identify because it was the same as I had.Soon after saying that to her, I realized that she was a friend of my mom’s. In fear of the same, I tried to leave her place.She said: Relax, I know you’re scared that I will tell your mom. But don’t worry, I won’t do anything like that.I just smiled and said thank you and left. I didn’t go to her place the next day, thinking she would have told my mom. But she seemed cool enough to not tell it, and there were no questions from my mom, so I decided to go.Sharon’s mom opened the door, and she invited me in. I knocked on her room’s door. She told me to hold on for 5 minutes, she opened the door later, and I saw her all sweaty.I thought she was working out cause the kind of figure she had at her age needed maintenance. I apologized for disturbing her. Through the initial awkwardness, I managed to finish my project and thanked her for her time and for not telling my mom about my relationship.Sharon: I can relate. The younger one noticed my injured leg and came to squat beside me, put her hand on my hairy thigh and examined it carefully. "Not too bad," she concluded. "He's awful cold. Let's get him in bed."With the girls' help, I stumbled to the only bed in the one-room cabin and tumbled in, feeling exhausted and fortunate. They covered me up and then Essie, the younger one, stripped off her clothes without another word and crawled in beside me, hugging me as best she could and putting her warm body against my half-frozen one.She got her knee over my legs, and rubbed her soft mound against my hip, her breasts on my ribs and held me tight, her head on my chest and shoulder as I lay flat on my back. "How that feel?" she asked."Grand," I chattered, feeling her smooth skin.I put my hand on her rounded rump and enjoyed the feeling, warming quickly. A minute or two later, Lucy, as bare as her sister, was climbing to my left side, saying across my chest, "Be careful of his leg. I'm sure it hurts."Her.
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