Not Indian, I Know Her She Is An Arab Like Me

In front of the thrones were the King and Queen, looking resplendent in purple and crimson, beside them, leaning around the throne to talk to someone, was a man whom she guessed must be her new husband as he was the only other person on the dais. She traveled through the room as his back remained turned to her, feeling nauseous and sick that her husband wasn’t even looking at her so intent was he in his conversation. The impulse to run back to her and Al’s clearing was at its strongest, and she felt sure that if so many eyes were not upon her she would run for it. Stepping up to stand before the King and Queen, her husband-to-be still turned away and speaking in whispers to what she now saw was the King’s Seneschal behind the throne, she curtsied. ‘Lady Gwendolyn, you grace us with your presence,’ the King smiled benignly at her, handsome and kindly expression as he grabbed the arm of his son and pulled him around, ‘May I introduce your husband-to-be, Prince Alexander, Alexander. I told her how I liked my hair cut and she seemed to get what I wassaying. The effects of the wine were kicking in and I was feeling very nice. We continued chatting as she took out her buzzer and some assorted scissors. With her back to me, I could not help but check out her ass. It was small and tight. Just the way I like them. I looked up and saw she was watching me, watching her thru the mirror. I was busted and a bit embarassed. I started to apologize but she cut me off. She flat out asked me if I liked her ass. I told her I thought it was perfect. She told me she wished it was a bit bigger and I told her she was crazy. She began combing my hair and doing whatever it is she needed to do. As she worked, her breasts were pressing against my shoulder. My cock was pulsating. I should say that I am 6'2 203lbs my hair is black and I have browneyes. I work out and am in good shape and considered good looking. So, as I was looking her over, she was doing the same. There was sexual.
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