Desi Dhaka Girl, All Videos Part 32

I wouldn’t need that much time. I sent Tara a text that I wouldn’t meet her in private but if she wanted to talk we could meet for dinner at Olive Garden. She agreed and we set a time of 7:00pm. I spent the rest of the day making as many arrangements as I could over the phone and from a distance. I secured a reservation at an extended stay hotel so I’d have a place to stay until I could search for an apartment. I put in a change-of-address and did and all that other ankle biter-type stuff that needs to be done. At 7:00pm, as Tara (and probably the rest of my family, if I knew them at all) was being seated at Olive Garden I sent a text that I was running late but would be there in about 15 minutes. I then took this opportunity to pack up as much as I could out of my apartment. This was all going to cost me some money. I wasn’t breaking my lease but I was going to pay for it while I was living elsewhere. Thankfully I only had one more payment. I had actually planned on proposing to. ‘You do. OK.’‘So. Decide. What’s it to be? Open it here? Or never with me?’First date.It’s. A. First. Fucking. Date.Ultimatums?Every bone in her body is aching to just get up and leave, and let him sit on his own, with his smug fucking face slowly realising that his game’s backfired.Fuck. Arrogance doesn’t even begin to cover it.And yet.He looks calm. Laconic, even. He’s not even shifted in his chair. Sipping wine. Eyes: assessing.She moves the box closer.What could be so fucking shameful that she’d need to make this kind of decision, now?She rips off the paper. The waiting staff seem at once to loom over her, and other diners appear to have turned themselves to see. The hush in the restaurant becomes deafening.But of course nobody cares. They’re all wrapped up in their own lives to look at a pretty woman, opening a box.The box is leather, dark blue. A clasp closes it with a single brass button. It makes a distinct pop as she presses it open with her thumb.The content is obscured by a.
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