Indian Babe Sebi

She was coming over for dinner. I was so excited at the idea of seeing her. I had cooked a rather fancy dinner for just the two of us I guess you could say. But nothing was too much for her. The doorbell rang, she was right on time. I opened the door to see her dressed in snow white from head to toe. She was so breathtaking I nearly lost my balance. We greeted each other with hugs and small talk and proceeded with dinner. She was delightful company. I stole glances as best I could of her shapely legs. I remembered the muscular way she has held me when we were about slip and fall off the university staircase and I couldn’t wait to have her touch me again. Dinner was over with before I could even blink it seemed. Swarna stood and fished a slip of paper out of her purse and handed it to me. I burst out laughing when I realized what it was. Earlier, I had written Swarna a personal coupon for a full body massage. I had wrote in it that she would need to bring the coupon in order to redeem. I'd slept better than I could remember doing in a long time now."Good morning, Sally," I said brightly as I stepped out into the clear morning light. "By now I'd say I know all of your secrets," I commented, slipping her owner's manual and other papers back into the otherwise empty glove box. After moment's reflection I added, "But I'll bet, in truth, that I don't know any of them at all yet."The danger in talking to an apparently dumb animal, an apparently non-responsive plant, or an apparently inanimate piece of machinery, is highly overrated. At least as long as you're not too directly overheard by someone who can control your fate.I view it like this:Either it means nothing at all, no one is actually listening, in which case nothing has actually happened. No harm, no foul.Or, if someone, somewhere, somehow is actually hearing you, well you're just being considerate, which can hardly be counted against you. Win-win.I certainly don't know everything that's happening or not.
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