Bollywood Dreaming With Indian MILF

The door creaked. She looked up and saw a middle-aged man of medium height enter the restaurant alone. He looked about swiftly, saw her bright red blouse and black canvas handbag, and made directly for her. In the few seconds she had in which to study him and decide whether to dissimulate, she went from nervousness to an acute curiosity. He wasn’t screen-idol material, but he was good-looking enough: athletically trim, with a pleasant, open face that obviously didn’t get much sun, topped by a thick mop of brown hair. He wore casual clothes, as she did, but they were of good quality and perfectly clean. His expression was noncommittal, neither censorious nor eager. I wonder what he’s thinking about me. He stopped at her table. Alia and Renee looked up, their eyes widening and mouths making Os of surprise and interest. ‘Melissa Harland?’ She nodded and rose. ‘My friends call me Mel.’ She extended a hand, and he took it. ‘I’m Ron Beaufort.’ He started to seat himself and paused. ‘May I. He had brought back a leather flagon of ale as well as the rest of the cold chicken and ham. He settled down on the bed, propped up on his travel cloak and began to eat his supper. He was half way through his ale when a rustle at the door carpet disturbed his thoughts, he sprang to the ready drawing the dirk he had at his side and moved to the doorway. Pulling aside the carpet he saw the young girl in the blue dress standing unsure before him. ‘Lady…can I help you in some way?’ He asked in a confused voice, his mind went to what she had said at dinner about young women wanting older men. ‘Sir knight, I sought you out because the host forgot to send the half loaf of bread that was your due before you left the inn’ She said this with down cast eyes that fluttered up to his eyes and back down. ‘My thanks My Lady, but he shouldn’t have sent you so far out of range for a half a loaf of bread.’ ‘It was my pleasure Sir.’ She stood looking lost and needing something else. He asked her to.
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