Desi Wife Fucked After Jogging

God, how I wanted her. It was only a few hours ago that I had met her at the bar, her long blond hair shining even in the dim light of the smoky room. The thin, light blue dress she wore clung to her form, the loose skirt wrapping itself around her legs with every step she took. Her feet were displayed in silver heels, the hem of her dress stopping slightly above her ankles. The scooped neck presented her cleavage to the wandering eye, but hid more than it showed. Somehow, I had the feeling that she wore nothing but that dress, and those perfect breasts were real. Those deep blue eyes of hers had captured mine with a single glance, and the smile on her lips seemed inviting enough, so I joined her at her table. The feel of her cool, pale skin when we shook hands sent a shock through me, and I knew that I would do almost anything to take her home. As it turned out, all it took were a few hours of conversation, and a couple glasses of wine. She told me her name was Lily, and I told her. The website turned out to be a very classy setup selling valuable antique artifacts; coins, statuettes, jewels, vases, tribal art and jade from almost every one of the world’s ancient cultures. Her picture was there, smiling enigmatically from the screen of my laptop. Tamsin Thorne, she was one of their specialist consultants and her area of expertise was ancient coins. The rest of the staff were a lot of venerable, old professorial types in their sixties. There was also a ‘team’ photo with all of them together. She was the only woman. Man, did she look out of place!Days passed and I continued to see her at the café, but not on every day. The days when she was absent made the place look and feel like an ornate picture frame from which a masterpiece had been rudely torn.Then one day, about two weeks after I had first seen her, everything changed.She did not make an appearance at the café and I went home in the rain, cold, bored and a little dejected. Luckily, my apartment building was.
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