18-10-2021, 12:03 AM
(This post was last modified: 18-10-2021, 04:04 PM by madiha.agarwal. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
My name is Madiha and I'm a software consultant. I am sharing my experiences here mainly of those that happened after I left the shores of India and on landing in the land of opportunity USA. The Omaha project didn't work out but thankfully, I got an opportunity in another project in New Jersey within 6 months. I had dumped my boyfriend and was open to the market.
(Please read My first onsite adventure )
I boarded the Air France flight to New York .As I was struggling to get my cabin bag in the compartment above, a handsome, nearly six-foot tall American guy standing behind me offered to help me. I noticed he was very well built and wearing a tight blue shirt and dark trousers. He had dirty blonde hair and a three-day beard. His eyes were blue and looked so striking. He looked like he narrowly missed the audition for Avengers Thor to Chris Hemsworth. My heart melted at his sight and my knees went weak.
I sat down in the window seat, and he smiled, then sat next to me. He introduced himself as Jeff and I introduced myself. An elderly lady sat in the third seat next to us. As the plane pushed away from the gate, she realized the plane was only half full, so she moved to another seat, leaving us alone.
Soon the flight took off and we talked about many things. Jeff asked where I was from, and I told him I was from Mumbai. It surprised me when he said he'd been there. I asked what he did for a living and he told me he worked as a web designer. We talked about our relationships and he said that he got divorced and took a break from his work to visit India. He asked if I was married, and I told him no, I'd just had a boyfriend.
Jeff said he'd gone to India to find himself.
I asked "What's with you white people finding themselves in India when we Indians can't find ourselves there. You should have gone to Thailand or Ibiza and have fun."
Jeff said "Yes, but I always wanted to visit India as a child and I love Indian women, They are the sexiest women in the world. Their dark skin, black hair, their poise, their dressing sense—just like you."
"Thank you," I said.
Jeff asked, "How tall are you?"
I responded, "Five feet-six inches."
"Just my size," he said, and added, "You also have a very nice figure and look very sexy."
"American women seem to look pretty sexy too," I chuckled.
"Nope," he answered. "Most of the Indian women are prudes."
"Not all Indian women are prudes, some of us do love some fun," I replied.
He leaned close to me and whispered in my ear, "I know you are a wild, wild one. I can see it by the sparkle in your eyes. Ever since I saw you I just wanted to tear that skirt off you and lick your pussy. I'm surprised how I'm still able to control myself".
I just felt like I got hit by a lightning bolt. Never had anyone talked to me this directly, at least if you discount the perverts in Facebook before I blocked them. Had anyone else said that I would have slapped them, but somehow I only felt horny when I heard the smooth American voice of Jeff telling me that. We just had a stoic silence for some time.
Soon a flight attendant served our dinner. Jeff again leaned close to me and said, "Do you know about the Mile High Club?"
"Mile High what?" I asked once again showing my ignorance of that term.
(Please read My first onsite adventure )
I boarded the Air France flight to New York .As I was struggling to get my cabin bag in the compartment above, a handsome, nearly six-foot tall American guy standing behind me offered to help me. I noticed he was very well built and wearing a tight blue shirt and dark trousers. He had dirty blonde hair and a three-day beard. His eyes were blue and looked so striking. He looked like he narrowly missed the audition for Avengers Thor to Chris Hemsworth. My heart melted at his sight and my knees went weak.
I sat down in the window seat, and he smiled, then sat next to me. He introduced himself as Jeff and I introduced myself. An elderly lady sat in the third seat next to us. As the plane pushed away from the gate, she realized the plane was only half full, so she moved to another seat, leaving us alone.
Soon the flight took off and we talked about many things. Jeff asked where I was from, and I told him I was from Mumbai. It surprised me when he said he'd been there. I asked what he did for a living and he told me he worked as a web designer. We talked about our relationships and he said that he got divorced and took a break from his work to visit India. He asked if I was married, and I told him no, I'd just had a boyfriend.
Jeff said he'd gone to India to find himself.
I asked "What's with you white people finding themselves in India when we Indians can't find ourselves there. You should have gone to Thailand or Ibiza and have fun."
Jeff said "Yes, but I always wanted to visit India as a child and I love Indian women, They are the sexiest women in the world. Their dark skin, black hair, their poise, their dressing sense—just like you."
"Thank you," I said.
Jeff asked, "How tall are you?"
I responded, "Five feet-six inches."
"Just my size," he said, and added, "You also have a very nice figure and look very sexy."
"American women seem to look pretty sexy too," I chuckled.
"Nope," he answered. "Most of the Indian women are prudes."
"Not all Indian women are prudes, some of us do love some fun," I replied.
He leaned close to me and whispered in my ear, "I know you are a wild, wild one. I can see it by the sparkle in your eyes. Ever since I saw you I just wanted to tear that skirt off you and lick your pussy. I'm surprised how I'm still able to control myself".
I just felt like I got hit by a lightning bolt. Never had anyone talked to me this directly, at least if you discount the perverts in Facebook before I blocked them. Had anyone else said that I would have slapped them, but somehow I only felt horny when I heard the smooth American voice of Jeff telling me that. We just had a stoic silence for some time.
Soon a flight attendant served our dinner. Jeff again leaned close to me and said, "Do you know about the Mile High Club?"
"Mile High what?" I asked once again showing my ignorance of that term.
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