The Indian Mistress

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A thunderous applause and lightening flashes of androids had the hosts blushing and bowing with beaming faces. The woman was a flamboyant diva like creature with a face that looked it was painted with crayola. Her blinged attire made Rekha think of the ringmaster. "Wow so here is the ringmistress but the ringmaster on the contrary was the opposite." He was a tall dark man whose suit was a glove fit. His black curly hair with streaks of grey was swept back. His evident gym contract was plain to see in his tautly muscled body. When he spoke his refined english and sense of humour sent shivers down her erect spine. Rekha mused this swollen headed punk has definitely travelled and has to be quite worldly, for normal men always carried their indian accents with them. Distracted by the host and his humourous jabberings, Rekha did not notice her partner waving for her to join him.