#7922 - Then he kissed me again and handed me a box of wet tissues. Peaches had told me that Indian attire screams of my raw sex appeal; so I dressed in a violet Kurta, let its buttons remain open, curled its sleeves up to my elbows, put on a black slack, an off-white scarf, the wrist watch Ma gifted and sprayed a Saudi perfume Baba brought for me. Sweetpea's smile faded.
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