Desi Lover Romance
*When I got home, there was a parcel on my front doorstep. No courier bag or postage, just a handwritten note, and a plastic shopping bag.The handwriting was vaguely familiar. I unfolded the note and looked straight to the signature. Skye.I briefly wondered if I should call the bomb squad. She'd been so angry the last time we spoke, but even that had been years earlier. I'd figured at the time that it was maybe for the best. We struggled to be just friends, even with us both married by that. However that didn't mean Mistress was happy about the incident & punishment would be given. feeling shamefully aware of my sticky & still swollen erection I realised Mistress was also staring at my dick. Mistres instructed me to return to my small, bare room with just a mattress on the floor & no door - not to stop off in the bathroom to clean myself. my aching erection still straining against the heavy, silver ball ring I realised it wouldn't be removed anytime soon as Mistress turned & left.i. Well, if she wanted it that way, there was nothing he could do about it.He flipped the page to the first attachment. It was obviously a death certificate from the Prefecture of Marseille made out in Jean's name. It also had all the pertinent data about her. The information could have only come from her. With it was attached a Certificate of Burial again certified by the Prefecture of Marseille. Cause of death was listed as accidental drowning at the local beach. Both were complete with official. A woman stopped by the table and said, “Hello, Jim. Mind if I join you?”Dexter looked up at the woman. She was about five years younger than he was. Unlike a lot of women her age, she still had the figure of a much younger woman. She had blond hair that was pulled back from her face and fixed in some sort of swirl at the back. His first impression was that she was pretty. His second impression was that she was more than pretty.Jim answered, “Hello, Ann. Have a seat and join us.”Jim introduced.
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