Punjabi Indian Wife Sandy 2
“Jo?”“Karen Post.”“You left a note pinned to one of my tipis.”“Yes.”“Make me an offer.”“Fifteen hundred? Yes ma’am. For that I’ll deliver. Eaton’s Ranch?”I took the pinned one down, loaded it on the Dodge and took off. Wolf Creek south to Soldier Creek west to the Wye with Beckton Road. Beckton sorta south to the Tee with Eaton’s Ranch Road. Turn right. Half way down ... or up ... Eaton’s Road, the gate guard waved me down. Since Wolf is the address on my drivers license, I was allowed in. At the office, it’s the Post Office, too, I stepped down and went inside.“Mrs. Jo Baker please. I have a delivery for her,” I told the Post Mistress. Eaton’s Postal Authority and clerk is a fourteen year old girl ... one of the various Eaton offspring. Post Master is a political appointment so little Miss Postal must have a great deal of political pull.“You’re Karen?”“I am,” I replied.“Emily Eaton, we have some mail for you. It was supposed to go to your house box but somehow ended up here.”“I’ve. She saw the posters on the walls, showing thedifferent actors, musicians, and even politicians that this particular boiliked. When she looked more towards the bed, she saw the one that she'd cometo see: the merchandise, James White.He was petite, standing at five foot two, and slender with an hourglassfigure. He had long shiny black hair that fell in a single braid down to thesmall of his back and dark eyes set in a heart shaped, delicate face. He worea simple tight white top that outlined his figure and a tiny white G-stringthat fit nicely against his thighs, showing off the body underneath.No wonder Marianne's so good at business, the Madam thought to herself as shelooked at the boi as he looked up at her with a curious look on his face. Sheknows how to market product. That's for damn sure.Just from looking at the sissy, she could feel a stirring in her pants. Hercock grew erect, pressing up the front of her pants. His eyes dropped to thebulge in her pants and his eyes widened.
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