I never again met a girl who could turn a gray, rainy afternoon into paradise, just with words and images, with little touches and butterfly kisses. A...d when she smiled, her plain, stub nosed face seemed to catch a ray of sunlight.Of course that is how I remember her now. Back then, being the one tracked oaf I was, I just took it all for granted. As a matter of fact I felt sorry for myself, punished to always be with girls like her. It is actually how I thought about her: girls like her — a. Elderly maid who would come every day morning to sweep the bldg. And to collect the waste from houses in bldg.About her she was healthy maid can’t say that she was fat, whitish gujrathi female in her early 50. Quite talkative and we too being of same language, she would come to our house to ask for drinking water and my mother would give her water and also some food left of last night too. She would also help my mother if any help required.Once my parents had to go for visit to relative’s house. She was staring at me, 'You're like a little girls', meaning my pussy, which was nothing more than a neat straight line, without labia or protruding clitoris.'I am a little girl', I replied nervously, and her craggy face beamed at the prospect. She opened her little purse and took out a piece of paper, opened it and walked over to me, opened my mouth and put some power in, 'Swallow it dear, it will loosen you up', and I did as I was bade.My head went light and my body became like an out of body. His demeanor was gentle, his voice soft. It gave her the feeling that he didn’t mean her any harm. She nuzzled her head against the horse’s withers, feeling the coarseness against her skin as a pale pink blush stained her cheeks, and sighed. Night Wolf drank in the beauty of her face. The corners of his mouth turned up with the hint of a grin. He nodded to her and walked away, bounding up onto the back of the third house. He grabbed the reins to the remaining two horses, leading them away from.
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