Bus fir kya tha hm dono bina shirt ar pant k bus shorts pehne hue apni-apni body ka show off karne lage ar dkhne lage kiske cuts zda ache hain ya kisk... muscles zda ubhari hui hain. Hmdono ye kar hi rahe the ki meri nazar parde k piche gayi jahan se chup-2 k shweta mujhe nasheeli nighano se dekh rahi thi ar madhosh hui ja rahi thi ar usko dkh k mai b thoda zda janbhuj kar apni body dikhane lag gaya.Uss din k bad se aksar shweta mujhe dekh k bht hi sexy smile deti thi, hmesha mujhe dhkaa de. Maybe then the world wouldn’t be the depressed, angry place that it is today. Anyhow, enough about my rants. I’ve got a story to share with you. Most people haven’t heard of Djibouti Christians any more than they’ve heard of Arab Christians. The fact is that both exist. Last year I dated this handsome young man named Joseph Farouk, a Lebanese Christian. I really liked him and we had a passionate relationship. Unfortunately he was an international student at Carleton University and he returned. All around the villa the landscape is languishing in the heat. Even the birds and the crickets are silent. I’m stretched out on my tummy on a sun bed, deliciously comfortable in my bikini. I hear flip flops approaching and someone sits down on the next door sun bed. Jackson is so gorgeous - tanned body on show, a dusting of dark hair on his chest which I can follow southwards. He has a white towel wrapped around his hips . . . and at this realisation my heart stutters slightly. Muscles clench. It was soft and furry, and I slipped one finger down and touchedmyself, and I realized that my pussy itself was bald.Finally I moved my hands over my hips and toward my thighs, feeling myhourglass figure move back toward the vertical. I liked my hips, and Imoved forward toward the mirror to watch them move, and I saw that thegirls moved a bit too as I walked.There was only one part of me I hadn't seen yet - my bootie. I turnedaway from the mirror and looked over my shoulder at my curved ass. .