Indian Beauty

She had felt the humiliation as if she herself had been the girl, and it made her come hard in the safety of her room, while Rita was away. It had fueled her fantasies, both at the Club and in bed with her lover.Later on, in the darkness of a sleepless night it had made her wonder about herselfShe sighed, removing her fingers from under her skirt. She tried to inconspicuously smell their tips, wondering where to go with her horniness. As if on cue the woman of the leashed girl entered the Salon. She was alone this time, and not wearing a corset. In fact, she only wore a thin black lace top that had slipped off her left breast, plainly showing a dark nipple against the pale flesh. Below it was a tight, knee length pencil skirt. She obviously did not need a corset to have a perfect figure. Black classic nylons hugged her calves, ending in leather ankle boots. They were laced up through old-fashioned hooks and eyelets and had square, very high heels. Her face and exposed breast were a. I walked out of the house, got in the cab and headed to the airport to fly to Maine. The plane ride was uncomfortable, but short, just a couple of hours. I stepped off the plane into the terminal looking for a man I probably wouldn't recognize. But as I walked into the crowd off to my left I spotted a six foot tall man, 40's, dark hair, olive complexion and sexy green eyes. My mouth dropped as the man I saw looked exactly like my daddy. I was an only child and the apple of my daddy's eye; we did everything together until he died suddenly of a heart attack I swear my mother gave him. I always had lots of pictures of him and with time kind of developed a small crush on my own dead father. "Megan, is that you?" I hear him call to me as I shoved my way past the other passengers. "Yeah," I said, as I walked up to him. He threw his arms around me and gave me a big hug. Grabbing my wrists, he leaned back to look at me fully. I could feel his eyes as they examined me from head to toe. "My,.
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