“He's a hero.”“Wow,” said Fahima.“I know,” said Rizwana. “Our husband...” She smiled so brightly, such pride in her eyes. I could neve... tell them the truth. It would break them. He made a mistake, but he fixed it.“You must be tired,” said Wahida, taking my hand and pulling me towards the bed. I noticed then that she was wearing a light nightgown, the linen clinging to her dusky body, her flesh bleeding through in spots. Her nipples were dark shadows, and the flesh of her hips and thighs. Would she actually take her time?And, unlike most prostitutes, Phyllis let me kiss her...so it might be an extended necking session.Oh, I was getting horny thinking about this!I thought about Phyllis in her hotter moments...we'd gone out for ice cream once and she'd been wearing this little striped top and tight jeans, and then she'd poured her cone on my neck and licked it off....And then I watched her cute little denim pockets dance on the way home!Once I'd helped Phyllis paint her living. More

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