His actions were the result of orders, not inference.Vasilla kissed Khozem’s hand upon entrance and bid him gentle salaams. He was dressed in a blue...Italian suit, while Khozem wore a tan, cotton robe with matching turban.“I see you’re living like a Westerner,” smiled Khozem, trying hard to appear the man in control, not the child with a dumbfounded fascination.“I hope not to appear too Westernized, your holiness, but I just got off the plane,” said Vasilla sniffling with a cold.“And how was. I told him about the ring lines on their finger. He just shrugged, a bit arrogantly, and told me they had begged to see him. He was single so he went for it.I laughed, and being buzzed I could not resist teasing him.“Does the fact they're married white ladies make it better?”He grinned, “Oh, hell yes! The married part because even if they fall in love with my cock they do not want any attachments." He shrugged, “As far as white? I love the contrast and let us leave it at that."I blushed with. More

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