I'm Glad That Indian Whore Got Fucked Good

She was applying her lipstick and her hand froze for a moment as she considered her actions. The trouble was, she didn't want to think, she was tired of being sensible, tired of always trying to work out the best outcome. She just wanted to live...on the edge, if only for a night. "Oh, fuck it...call it a midlife crisis", she smiled wryly to herself as she continued to make up her face pausing to study her reflection. Her hair hung down her back like a wild black mane. Her green eyes made up to accentuate what she considered her best feature. Her lips pink and full glistened with the newly applied shade and she smiled in satisfaction. Turning she considered her outfit, especially chosen for the night. A form fitting little black dress that hugged her petite frame lovingly, and allowed generous glimpses of both cleavage and leg. John arrived at the hotel early in the afternoon. He planned on showering and dressing there, and ensure everything was ready for her arrival. After sending. .. 'inner sanctum.' " He made quotation marks with his fingers a la Austin Powers as Doctor Evil. "Coffee?"Before Cupid could speak, God waved his hand and a small puff of smoke appeared. It disappeared just as quickly, leaving a stunning girl, white-blonde hair curled around her face, standing there with a tray of coffee. Even Cupid, in his cherubic state, couldn't help but notice the sensual heat that came off this girl in waves, from the tips of her pointed-toe pumps, up the long tanned legs that disappeared under a white dress that seemed very familiar, over curved hips and rounded breasts to a face that would make God himself drool, as a matter of fact, just as he was at that moment"Mr. God," she lisped sexily. "Coffee, tea or me?" She giggled, her shoulders shaking, her breasts jiggling under the halter top."Just the coffee for now, Marilyn. But keep your schedule open for later." God waited as she set her tray down and then stepped back, winking at Cupid before tugging softly.
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