Hai its me persa …. I told her replay him , she told him …. Hi yah I got it….. He again hus reched home …. She told nop…. He told her I wanna talk to you.. She told yah call me… he called and talk whats your program tomarrow……She told him no program …. He told her if you free we can meet….she told him ok … he ask what about your husband .. She told he going his parents house tomarrow…. He come Sunday eve…. Ok ….he told we can meet at 7ock same restaurant, ….she told him ok sure….. We think he is on trak… Saturday evening 6.30 she took taxi …. I flowing that taxi .she wear side slit black long skirt . Out side of restaurant they enter the restaurant and talk each other and drinks he hold her hands . After 1 hours they out the restaurant she fake him she is drunk. She get in his car and he drive and stop his home. he open his door and they enter , she sit in couch and he took bottle pour in two glass, she drink and seduce him and kiss him , he also get mood ,she remove skirt show him. His beard was rather neat and trimmed, too.“Thanks ... for the inhaler, cousin,” I handed the inhaler back to her, not ready for her reaction.“Nope, keep it. I got extras. Here,” Maria smeared the inhaler along the cleavage of her fine, C-up tits, and handed it back to me, “think of me whenever you huff it ... once you’ve recovered. Cousin.”Her wink really felt odd now, given that she was, well, my cousin. As in first cousin. As in, not someone who typically would hit on me. Her father was my mother’s brother, after all. Mom had never married Dad, you see, so she kept her maiden name until she wed him ... Jerry Larson. A bruiser whose family came over from Sweden, and Mom being Mom, she picked the least likable member of the clan. He was a professional boxer turned trainer, sparrer, and bouncer. I liked boxing, but he looked and acted like he took too many hits to the face or head or something.This was all fucking weird, especially given how much I now thought of and recalled despite.
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