First came the panty then the stockings and then the bra. The bra cups i filled with spare soft cloth ( i always carry for boobie pads ) and i was feeling soo horny. i gulped down my first drink and while smoking i did a little dance in front of the full wall mirror in the room.Then i lubed my hole nicely before I made my second drink, put on the TV and selected a channel where hindi movie songs played so i could dress in saree and dance around. It took me 10 mins to d**** the saree on myself as it was my 1st time. Well i managed some how. i lit another smoke, had a long sip of whisky, turned up the tv volume and walked around the room like a lady and was dancing in front of the mirror and smoking and was like total slutty housewife. I wqsa enjoying the sight of 'Sheila'( my gurl name ) dancing in the mirror with the volume up that i didn't hear the knock on the door and i guess after knocking a cpl of times he tried the handle and the door opened( in my excitement to dress up as. At his feet lie plush furs and choice skins from a diversity of animals. He is a man in his fifth decade but slim of figure, dark as are all the lords of Darrakhai, and naked but for a string of red sardonyx at his throat. By the light of the lamps I see that he is scarred, the veteran no doubt of many battles. I stare at him but remain still. Bathed as I am in lamplight, I know that my green eyes will appear dark – unfathomable, my hair, like a black storm cloud, my skin, like the fine ivory of the Talfan delta. I feel his eyes on my face. “Remove your garments.” I do as he orders, leaving them in a pile at my feet. Again I feel his gaze fall upon me, upon my long neck, upon my broad shoulders, upon my breasts with their tight rosebud nipples, upon the flat plane of my belly and upon my navel. His eyes linger on my pussy, adorned by its single brush stroke of black, and then he lowers his eyes to my long, smooth legs. I relax my muscles consciously, looking down at him. There is no.
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