British Tourist V Lonely Indian Housewife

" You know you can talk to me about anything, Allie! I'm always here for you, no matter what!" He said."It's just...well you see..." She stammered, acting shy, knowing full well what she wanted to tell him, what she wanted to do. She wanted to rip her clothes off and beg her brother to fuck her."Come on, s*s...tell me." His hand moved over her arm again, sending tingles to her already wet pussy."I watched you in the shower." She said, looking down at the floor."You...what?" I watched you...in. She would adjust her clothes and run out to deliver more ale. Judging by the wry look on his face, he seemed to enjoy teasing her. The hours passed, and more men came and went who weren't her cook. More groping hands to dodge and remind her of the ones she wanted to feel on her body. It got harder and harder to sneak into the kitchen as closing time approached. A rush hit, and the inn was packed with men wanting to get a last drink before going home to pass out. About a half-hour before closing. He is sexy, though. I watch him breath as he sleeps in the bed. He is strong and well built but not overpowering. The chest and groin are well groomed. He takes very good care of himself. Other girls check him out in public. He is, afterall, a handsome man.It frustrates me that I can't be content with this life. My friends wish they had a man so good as him. At least that is what they tell me. Who knows what they really think.I turn a lamp on to read and turn the main light off. As I get out of. After about ten minutes of this luxurious petting, we paused. ‘Will you do that thing for me, you said you would?’ he said. ‘Did you bring her picture?’ I giggled.Pat reached into his jacket and produced his wife’s photo. I studied the capture, the worn face and the weird short back and sides hairstyle many women strangely go for when they hit 55. ‘You weren’t wrong. Oh you poor bastard,’ I pouted, jerking him hard. ‘Imagine looking at that every day, never mind waking up next to it. Do you.
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