Indian Aunty 1072

..and I could almost hear my own heartbeat, whichwas pounding away like a steam engine on steroids.Her kiss left me weak in the knees, as always. No wonder I worshippedthis woman."Now start with the lingerie, slave," she said, almost spitting out thelast word.I put on the gorgeous red bra and panties, relishing the feel on myskin."Now, do your nails," she said, handing me a dark maroon shade of nailpolish.Ash use to often make me paint her nails and I had gotten quite good atit. I soon had my toes glistening in the light, making my feet lookpretty. After they had dried, Ash put a pair of silver anklets on myfeet which had these tiny bells on them. These were followed by a pairof black, open-toed sandals with an inch-long heel that showed mypainted nails.This was followed by an electric blue knee-length mini-skirt and afrilly white blouse. As my erection strained to explode out of mypanties, Ash combed my hair and started with my make-up. She rubbed afoundation on my face, used some. For all she knew, Phoebe might never have received her messages. Shemight have changed her number, or even blocked Marcia from her accountaltogether, deflecting her messages into space. Marcia's offers of loveand support might have been bounced off a distant satellite. They mightstill be traveling through the stars, adrift beyond the Milky Way,traversing empty infinite stretches of blackness. Marcia could imagineone day, thousands of light-years from now, when her messages might bedecoded as meaningless clicks by an advanced race of alien beings.She felt as if she'd been separated from her daughter by just such atime and distance. They had each traveled so far, at least in relativeterms, in their own lives. Phoebe through her teenage years; Marcia fromone gender to another. Which one of them was the alien? What would it belike to see each other again? Would they even recognize each other?Could they find a language with which to communicate?It was a terrible thought to have but Marcia.
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