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While studying at a University in London, I met this hot white guy. He had a thing for south Indian girls like me. I am a Telugu girl and I enjoyed his company. That day, I went to his place and we both planned to have sex. For the first time, I was about to give a blowjob to a white guy.
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After kneeling on the floor, he removed his pants and boxer. Just look at his long and fair penis without any skin. It was so arousing and I took it deep inside my mouth. Even he enjoyed the deep throat blowjob I gave him.
The private detective was Reggie Hightower! For some reason hewas posing as an escaped convict!I quickly opened the other envelope and read the opening page ofTurnbul?s letter to Katie. I couldn?t believe what it said. The firstfew paragraphs read as follows.Dear Ms. Williamson, (Katie?s Maiden Name)Thank you for meeting with me the other day and for the payment for yourhusband?s transgender surgeries. I am sure you will be pleased with theresults. I am confirming your wishes of making him a fully functionalfemale with reproductive organs, capable of creating a child, Our Full-Service Treatment, FST.It went on to explain the whole scam. The cancer, the necessarysurgeries, "chemotherapies", everything was a lie. It even offeredinformation on all the legal issues of her taking complete ownership ofour companies and her divorce from me. Turnbul had me sign all the legaldocuments under the guise of life saving surgeries and treatments forthe false cancer. Turnbull even had written a joke. You stumble slightly on your way there and realize you had way too much to drink. You spot a pay phone on the way and decide to go through with it. You call home, saying you’re too drunk to drive, so you’re going to spend the night at a friend’s. Have a good time, your husband says, and that is that. In the bathroom, you take care of business and check yourself in the mirror. Focusing seems a bit difficult and your smile at yourself. Yep. Definitely buzzing. Winding your way back to our table, you grab the waiter and order a round of Sambucca. I laugh. ‘I remember what you told me about that stuff… And how it affects you’ The waiter returns with a bottle of ‘bucca and two chilled glasses. Before you know it, two shots have burned down your throat. When the bottle is empty and both of us feeling no pain, I pay the bill and we head out into the night. You remember us weaving our way back to my car. Getting in. Chatting for a bit. Then… waking up here. Musta passed out, you think. And.
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