The man’s fingers continue to stroke my hair, his touch a soothing balm that calms my racing mind. “Oh, I think it is,” he says, his fingers squeezing my nipples roughly. Indian sex I suddenly feel empty. “It sounds very Eastern European. I refuse to admit it, but he can see my eyes welling up with tears of frustration. My shirt is still intact, but I can feel the heat from my body against the cold metal chair. I shake my head “No.” He shrugs and sets the bottle down on the table. “I’m just trying to get out of here,” I say, my voice trembling.
