Indian Hot Story Play
The entire room was ringed with lit candles. They lined fixtures on the walls and every piece of furniture. Delilah was waiting in her leather corset and fishnet stockings. Her thigh high boots gleamed in the firelight.She took a drag from her blunt, held the potent cloud in her lungs for three seconds and then exhaled slowly. The entire room smelled of leather, marijuana and sex. Her hand rested on her hip and her wave of jet black hair tumbled down the right side of head.“Welcome to my lair” she said with a grin before setting the fat cigar on an ashtray atop her dresser.“Hey” Sean replied, unsure of how to respond to such odd, yet fortunate circumstances. He was simultaneously aroused and dumbfounded. Also somewhat concerned that he was about to get lucky in what looked like a giant fire hazard.“Your jacket will be fine after a wash, but your pants are done for and the blood is never coming out of that t-shirt. I tossed them.”Vague concern spread over his face. He hadn't exactly. They don’t care, ‘cause just like us… who’re we hurting?”“So y’all moving to France?” asked Nate.“Well that ain’t plan ‘A’, but if I had to, I’d do it. If that’s the only way I can be with Darby, I’ll sell it all in a heartbeat. Move to France, frown all the time, drink wine and smoke cigarettes. But I think there’s another way. Look, once you married Janie, how many times did you ever have to prove she was your wife?”Nate thought about it. “Never. Basically, I said, ‘This is my wife,’ and everybody said okay. When we did our taxes, we went from filing single to married, nobody said ‘boo.’”Jake countered, “Me either. We got married in Jackson, Mississippi, and I couldn’t find that marriage license at gunpoint, you know?”“Alright. So what’s your point?”“A big part of being married is saying you’re married. But that’s not enough. I know Darby wants, well, something… some kind of ceremony, to make it real. And to be honest, so do I. That’s hard to do here in the states. So.
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