Teasing Bengali Housewife With Toy Desi Indian

A woman sang in a darkly sensuous smoky voice. I wandered toward the source of the sound, over by the far wall. It was Nan Moravia doing the definitive version of "Love is Pain."You touched my soulIt brought me blissMy tears beganWith your soft kissExquisite taste in music. Fine equipment, too. The clear "milky" tones of an old-fashioned tube-type MacIntosh amp and full-size Acoustic Research AR-3A speakers did the song justice. Might even put to shame the 300 watt per channel SWTP "Supertiger" system I had been planning to put together. All of it, the choice of music and the hardware, even the ambience, earned my seal of approval. For whatever it was worth.I heard water running, then a wedge of light from the half-open bathroom door split the darkness. Rhythmic footsteps approached. Amelia placed a finger across my lips before I could open my mouth to speak. She took my hand and laid something cold and shiny into it. It was a metal squeeze-tube with a vaguely camphor-like smell. I. Or to be more exact he was enchanted by Emma. Her brown hair tumbling down her back tempting him to run his fingers through it. She moved like she was worshipping the song, one he could never remember hearing before, but he liked watching her body moving to it, her lips singing it quietly like she was almost shy to be heard but couldn’t resist saying the words. He moved closer to see if he could hear any of the lyrics she was singing. A cheesy song she didn’t know the name to started up as Rob finished his plea for romance. Sighing she opened her eyes to find James directly in front of her, his hair as wild as ever, wearing a wicked glint in his eye and Emma smugly smiled at him before grabbing her drink and heading to where he stood in a snug black t-shirt and worn jeans, like something out of one of the alpha male romances she hoarded secretly. ‘Hi James, you must be the housemate?’ She studied the quiet guy next to him, he had short dark hair and a dark brooding expression that.
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