Hot Indian Couple

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I didn't drive, so I checked for buses on my phone, there was one due in afew minutes, so I walked to the bus stop. This reminded me to check mymobile. First thing I did was turn the sound on, maybe then I would knowwhen I got messages. I checked for messages, and as Becky said, there werea number of them on there from her. I marked all these as read and movedon. Next there were a couple from John, the first read:'Missing you already my lover xxxx'The second read:'I hope you don't mind if I tell my parents about you? They will probablywant me to bring you over soon for dinner, but I don't think I couldcontain my excitement for the rest of the day without giving anythingaway.'I replied:'Sure, no problem. Love Susan xxx'I tried not to add the last bit, but my inner objections were futile.Then I saw 2 messages from Peter, my heart skipped a beat. I quicklyopened the first:'Thank you for being so understanding this weekend, Donna and I feel asclose as ever now. Feel free to drop by. " Good then! That is a start. But I'm guessing you have never had a realpussy, yes? Be honest." No ma'am. It's too expensive." And also illegal to sell, let's not forget that," she says. "But no onereally cares. It's all about money. Pussy is ten times as expensive asboycunt, but I will tell you a secret, boycunt is better. It's tighterand squeezes in just the right way. But you already know that don'tyou?"He looks down at his plate, examines a bit of bloody roast beef likeit's the most fascinating thing on the planet."Oh dear, you are blushing," she says. "Where did my big scary macho mango?"I snicker. Their exchange is great entertainment. I chew on a piece ofrare roast beef that melts in my mouth. I wouldn't give up my manhoodfor this dinner, but I'd seriously consider maybe one testicle. It'sthat good."Shut up," he shouts at me. Dirk can no longer pick on her, so hedirects his rage at the other target in the room. He is mistaking me forsomeone who gives a shit.I snicker and pop a.
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At the first stop after he boarded, several of us climbed out for a cigarette. He wordlessly asked for one from me, and I handed it over, and we both chatted with other passengers. Some may consider it strange, but we never said a word to each other. Not a single word, aside from a whispered "sshh!" in my ear later on. No names were exchanged, no numbers. Nothing. Just a moment of heat. I don't remember how it all started, but I remember him touching my ankle, his thumb brushing against the inside of my foot. His fingers worked their way along my calf (because by now I'd slouched a little and had my foot resting on the seat in front of him) and after several long minutes, he stood up, and I moved over. We sat there, wordlessly, quietly in our seat, listening to the tires rolling over the pavement, and watching the sun slowly begin to set over the rocky terrain. His arm was slung over my shoulder, and as the rays of light kissed the distant mountains, his hand covered one of my.

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