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Indian Fair Girl Hot Nude

Buying lipstick depends on certain issues, like your skin tone, hair color, your personality and so on. For example, if you are a sober, corporate lady, you will definitely want matte shades of lipstick that emphasize your elegance. On the other hand, a happy-go-lucky college girl will look more energetic with a fluorescent pink lip shade. So, here are certain tips that you can follow before buying nude lipsticks for fair and dark Indian skin tone or any other shades-

indian fair girl hot nude

So, these are the basic tips you can follow while buying lipsticks. Now, if nude shades are your choice and you think they are all same, you will be wrong. Nude lipsticks are really trendy and you can try a variety of shades in that of different brands. You will be surprised to know that there are specific shades of nude lipsticks that are for fair skin tone and dark skin tone. So, today, we will discuss nude lipsticks for fair and dark Indian skin tone.

Indian skin tone is really unique. Whether it is fair or dark, there is a glossy undertone. Whenever you think of Indian women, you get the view of brownish skin with dark eyes and fuller lips. Even the fair skin tone has a brown undertone that is the beauty secret of every Indian girl. So, in this winter, if you want to boost your hotness quotient, wear something colorful and keep your lips nude, and that is with the best nude lipsticks for fair Indian skin tone. Here is the list of branded nude lipsticks-

This is one of the best nude lipsticks for fair Indian skin tone that every stylish woman wants to have inside her purse. Lipsticks are materials of your cosmetic collection. Having a Mac product is really awesome. Mac Mocha is a satin finish lipstick that gives you a nude shade with a tint of brown. Another benefit of wearing this lipstick is that you can wear it on any occasion, from a corporate party to night outs and it stays for five to six years.

Each shadeof Lakme 9 to 5 range is just fantastic. This particular nude shade isperfectly suitable for fair to wheatish Indian skin tones. Once you apply it,you can feel the soft and smooth texture of the lipstick and it alsomoisturizes your lips well. As it contains vitamin E and wheat germ oil, this mattelipstick is a must-have for you.

This is oneof the best nude lipstick shades that you can have if you have fairer skintone. If you are confused whether the nude shade will suit you or not, you canbuy this one without any hesitation. The nude pink shade will look perfect onyou and if you are not fond of dark colors, this is the lipstick that willserve your purpose. This is a cream-based lipstick that lasts for four hours.

So, here is the list of 10 hot and sexy nude lipsticks for fair Indian skin tone. But, the true Indian skin tone is dusky brown. With those big eyes, beautified with coal and nude lips, you can just steal the show.

The agent in Singapore was cruel. I had to take off all my clothes and was totally nude. They were checking to see if I had hidden money. I was wearing a head scarf. They took it and threw it away. They hit me and kicked me with boots. They asked if I brought anything from Indonesia. They took 50,000 rupiah I had. There were three other girls with me. This was happening in front of them. Only those of us from Indonesia experienced this [treatment]. I had bruises on my head and arms. The employer found out when I went to her home. She asked me to go to the police. I said it didn't matter because God will punish them. They were Indonesian agents in Singapore from my hometown.

They found the bodies close to the water's edge. Marion had been killed instantly. Her fair blonde head lay in a crimson circle sharply defined in the white sand. But the mother was still warm with life. She had scarcely ceased to breathe. In one last desperate throb of love the trembling soul had dragged the dying body to the girl's side, and she had died with her head resting on the fair round neck as though she had kissed her and fallen asleep.

"Must I, then, must I, then, now leave this town -And you, my love, stay here?"--Schwabian Folk-song.The singer, clean-faced and cheery-eyed, bent over and added waterto a pot of simmering beans, and then, rising, a stick of firewoodin hand, drove back the circling dogs from the grub-box andcooking-gear. He was blue of eye, and his long hair was golden,and it was a pleasure to look upon his lusty freshness. A newmoon was thrusting a dim horn above the white line of close-packedsnow-capped pines which ringed the camp and segregated it from allthe world. Overhead, so clear it was and cold, the stars dancedwith quick, pulsating movements. To the southeast an evanescentgreenish glow heralded the opening revels of the aurora borealis.Two men, in the immediate foreground, lay upon the bearskin whichwas their bed. Between the skin and naked snow was a six-inchlayer of pine boughs. The blankets were rolled back. Forshelter, there was a fly at their backs,--a sheet of canvasstretched between two trees and angling at forty-five degrees.This caught the radiating heat from the fire and flung it downupon the skin. Another man sat on a sled, drawn close to theblaze, mending moccasins. To the right, a heap of frozen graveland a rude windlass denoted where they toiled each day in dismalgroping for the pay-streak. To the left, four pairs of snowshoesstood erect, showing the mode of travel which obtained when thestamped snow of the camp was left behind.That Schwabian folk-song sounded strangely pathetic under the coldnorthern stars, and did not do the men good who lounged about thefire after the toil of the day. It put a dull ache into theirhearts, and a yearning which was akin to belly-hunger, and senttheir souls questing southward across the divides to the sun-lands."For the love of God, Sigmund, shut up!" expostulated one of themen. His hands were clenched painfully, but he hid them fromsight in the folds of the bearskin upon which he lay."And what for, Dave Wertz?" Sigmund demanded. "Why shall I notsing when the heart is glad?""Because you've got no call to, that's why. Look about you, man,and think of the grub we've been defiling our bodies with for thelast twelvemonth, and the way we've lived and worked like beasts!"Thus abjured, Sigmund, the golden-haired, surveyed it all, and thefrost-rimmed wolf-dogs and the vapor breaths of the men. "And whyshall not the heart be glad?" he laughed. "It is good; it is allgood. As for the grub--" He doubled up his arm and caressed theswelling biceps. "And if we have lived and worked like beasts,have we not been paid like kings? Twenty dollars to the pan thestreak is running, and we know it to be eight feet thick. It isanother Klondike--and we know it--Jim Hawes there, by your elbow,knows it and complains not. And there's Hitchcock! He sewsmoccasins like an old woman, and waits against the time. Only youcan't wait and work until the wash-up in the spring. Then weshall all be rich, rich as kings, only you cannot wait. You wantto go back to the States. So do I, and I was born there, but Ican wait, when each day the gold in the pan shows up yellow asbutter in the churning. But you want your good time, and, like achild, you cry for it now. Bah! Why shall I not sing:"In a year, in a year, when the grapes are ripe,I shall stay no more away.Then if you still are true, my love,It will be our wedding day.In a year, in a year, when my time is past,Then I'll live in your love for aye.Then if you still are true, my love,It will be our wedding day."The dogs, bristling and growling, drew in closer to the firelight.There was a monotonous crunch-crunch of webbed shoes, and betweeneach crunch the dragging forward of the heel of the shoe like thesound of sifting sugar. Sigmund broke off from his song to hurloaths and firewood at the animals. Then the light was parted by afur-clad figure, and an Indian girl slipped out of the webs, threwback the hood of her squirrel-skin parka, and stood in theirmidst. Sigmund and the men on the bearskin greeted her as"Sipsu," with the customary "Hello," but Hitchcock made room onthe sled that she might sit beside him."And how goes it, Sipsu?" he asked, talking, after her fashion, inbroken English and bastard Chinook. "Is the hunger still mightyin the camp? and has the witch doctor yet found the causewherefore game is scarce and no moose in the land?""Yes; even so. There is little game, and we prepare to eat thedogs. Also has the witch doctor found the cause of all this evil,and to-morrow will he make sacrifice and cleanse the camp.""And what does the sacrifice chance to be?--a new-born babe orsome poor devil of a squaw, old and shaky, who is a care to thetribe and better out of the way?""It chanced not that wise; for the need was great, and he chosenone other than the chief's daughter; none other than I, Sipsu.""Hell!" The word rose slowly to Hitchcock's lips, and brimmedover full and deep, in a way which bespoke wonder andconsideration."Wherefore we stand by a forking of the trail, you and I," shewent on calmly, "and I have come that we may look once more uponeach other, and once more only."She was born of primitive stock, and primitive had been hertraditions and her days; so she regarded life stoically, and humansacrifice as part of the natural order. The powers which ruledthe day-light and the dark, the flood and the frost, the burstingof the bud and the withering of the leaf, were angry and in needof propitiation. This they exacted in many ways,--death in thebad water, through the treacherous ice-crust, by the grip of thegrizzly, or a wasting sickness which fell upon a man in his ownlodge till he coughed, and the life of his lungs went out throughhis mouth and nostrils. Likewise did the powers receivesacrifice. It was all one. And the witch doctor was versed inthe thoughts of the powers and chose unerringly. It was verynatural. Death came by many ways, yet was it all one after all,--a manifestation of the all-powerful and inscrutable.But Hitchcock came of a later world-breed. His traditions wereless concrete and without reverence, and he said, "Not so, Sipsu.You are young, and yet in the full joy of life. The witch doctoris a fool, and his choice is evil. This thing shall not be."She smiled and answered, "Life is not kind, and for many reasons.First, it made of us twain the one white and the other red, whichis bad. Then it crossed our trails, and now it parts them again;and we can do nothing. Once before, when the gods were angry, didyour brothers come to the camp. They were three, big men andwhite, and they said the thing shall not be. But they diedquickly, and the thing was."Hitchcock nodded that he heard, half-turned, and lifted his voice."Look here, you fellows! There's a lot of foolery going on overto the camp, and they're getting ready to murder Sipsu. What d'yesay?"Wertz looked at Hawes, and Hawes looked back, but neither spoke.Sigmund dropped his head, and petted the shepherd dog between hisknees. He had brought Shep in with him from the outside, andthought a great deal of the animal. In fact, a certain girl, whowas much in his thoughts, and whose picture in the little locketon his breast often inspired him to sing, had given him the dogand her blessing when they kissed good-by and he started on hisNorthland quest."What d'ye say?" Hitchcock repeated."Mebbe it's not so serious," Hawes answered with deliberation."Most likely it's only a girl's story.""That isn't the point!" Hitchcock felt a hot flush of anger sweepover him at their evident reluctance. "The question is, if it isso, are we going to stand it? What are we going to do?""I don't see any call to interfere," spoke up Wertz. "If it isso, it is so, and that's all there is about it. It's a way thesepeople have of doing. It's their religion, and it's no concern ofours. Our concern is to get the dust and then get out of thisGod-forsaken land. 'T isn't fit for naught else but beasts? Andwhat are these black devils but beasts? Besides, it'd be damnpoor policy.""That's what I say," chimed in Hawes. "Here we are, four of us,three hundred miles from the Yukon or a white face. And what canwe do against half-a-hundred Indians? If we quarrel with them, wehave to vamose; if we fight, we are wiped out. Further, we'vestruck pay, and, by God! I, for one, am going to stick by it!""Ditto here," supplemented Wertz.Hitchcock turned impatiently to Sigmund, who was softly singing, -"In a year, in a year, when the grapes are ripe,I shall stay no more away.""Well, it's this way, Hitchcock," he finally said, "I'm in thesame boat with the rest. If three-score bucks have made up theirmind to kill the girl, why, we can't help it. One rush, and we'dbe wiped off the landscape. And what good'd that be? They'dstill have the girl. There's no use in going against the customsof a people except you're in force.""But we are in force!" Hitchcock broke in. "Four whites are amatch for a hundred times as many reds. And think of the girl!"Sigmund stroked the dog meditatively. "But I do think of thegirl. And her eyes are blue like summer skies, and laughing likesummer seas, and her hair is yellow, like mine, and braided inropes the size of a big man's arms. She's waiting for me, outthere, in a better land. And she's waited long, and now my pile'sin sight I'm not going to throw it away.""And shamed I would be to look into the girl's blue eyes andremember the black ones of the girl whose blood was on my hands,"Hitchcock sneered; for he was born to honor and championship, andto do the thing for the thing's sake, nor stop to weigh ormeasure.Sigmund shook his head. "You can't make me mad, Hitchcock, nor domad things because of your madness. It's a cold businessproposition and a question of facts. I didn't come to thiscountry for my health, and, further, it's impossible for us toraise a hand. If it is so, it is too bad for the girl, that'sall. It's a way of her people, and it just happens we're on thespot this one time. They've done the same for a thousand-thousandyears, and they're going to do it now, and they'll go on doing itfor all time to come. Besides, they're not our kind. Nor's thegirl. No, I take my stand with Wertz and Hawes, and--"But the dogs snarled and drew in, and he broke off, listening tothe crunch-crunch of many snowshoes. Indian after Indian stalkedinto the firelight, tall and grim, fur-clad and silent, theirshadows dancing grotesquely on the snow. One, the witch doctor,spoke gutturally to Sipsu. His face was daubed with savage paintblotches, and over his shoulders was drawn a wolfskin, thegleaming teeth and cruel snout surmounting his head. No otherword was spoken. The prospectors held the peace. Sipsu arose andslipped into her snowshoes."Good-by, O my man," she said to Hitchcock. But the man who hadsat beside her on the sled gave no sign, nor lifted his head asthey filed away into the white forest.Unlike many men, his faculty of adaptation, while large, had neversuggested the expediency of an alliance with the women of theNorthland. His broad cosmopolitanism had never impelled towardcovenanting in marriage with the daughters of the soil. If ithad, his philosophy of life would not have stood between. But itsimply had not. Sipsu? He had pleasured in camp-fire chats withher, not as a man who knew himself to be man and she woman, but asa man might with a child, and as a man of his make certainly wouldif for no other reason than to vary the tedium of a bleakexistence. That was all. But there was a certain chivalricthrill of warm blood in him, despite his Yankee ancestry and NewEngland upbringing, and he was so made that the commercial aspectof life often seemed meaningless and bore contradiction to hisdeeper impulses.So he sat silent, with head bowed forward, an organic force,greater than himself, as great as his race, at work within him.Wertz and Hawes looked askance at him from time to time, a faintbut perceptible trepidation in their manner. Sigmund also feltthis. Hitchcock was strong, and his strength had been impressedupon them in the course of many an event in their precarious life.So they stood in a certain definite awe and curiosity as to whathis conduct would be when he moved to action.But his silence was long, and the fire nigh out, when Wertzstretched his arms and yawned, and thought he'd go to bed. ThenHitchcock stood up his full height."May God damn your souls to the deepest hells, you chicken-heartedcowards! I'm done with you!" He said it calmly enough, but hisstrength spoke in every syllable, and every intonation wasadvertisement of intention. "Come on," he continued, "whack up,and in whatever way suits you best. I own a quarter-interest inthe claims; our contracts show that. There're twenty-five orthirty ounces in the sack from the test pans. Fetch out thescales. We'll divide that now. And you, Sigmund, measure me myquarter-share of the grub and set it apart. Four of the dogs aremine, and I want four more. I'll trade you my share in the campoutfit and mining-gear for the dogs. And I'll throw in my six orseven ounces and the spare 45-90 with the ammunition. What d'yesay?"The three men drew apart and conferred. When they returned,Sigmund acted as spokesman. "We'll whack up fair with you,Hitchcock. In everything you'll get your quarter-share, neithermore nor less; and you can take it or leave it. But we want thedogs as bad as you do, so you get four, and that's all. If youdon't want to take your share of the outfit and gear, why, that'syour lookout. If you want it, you can have it; if you don't,leave it.""The letter of the law," Hitchcock sneered. "But go ahead. I'mwilling. And hurry up. I can't get out of this camp and awayfrom its vermin any too quick."The division was effected without further comment. He lashed hismeagre belongings upon one of the sleds, rounded in his four dogs,and harnessed up. His portion of outfit and gear he did nottouch, though he threw onto the sled half a dozen dog harnesses,and challenged them with his eyes to interfere. But they shruggedtheir shoulders and watched him disappear in the forest.A man crawled upon his belly through the snow. On every handloomed the moose-hide lodges of the camp. Here and there amiserable dog howled or snarled abuse upon his neighbor. Once,one of them approached the creeping man, but the man becamemotionless. The dog came closer and sniffed, and came yet closer,till its nose touched the strange object which had not been therewhen darkness fell. Then Hitchcock, for it was Hitchcock,upreared suddenly, shooting an unmittened hand out to the brute'sshaggy throat. And the dog knew its death in that clutch, andwhen the man moved on, was left broken-necked under the stars. Inthis manner Hitchcock made the chief's lodge. For long he lay inthe snow without, listening to the voices of the occupants andstriving to locate Sipsu. Evidently there were many in the tent,and from the sounds they were in high excitement. At last heheard the girl's voice, and crawled around so that only the moose-hide divided them. Then burrowing in the snow, he slowly wormedhis head and shoulders underneath. When the warm inner air smotehis face, he stopped and waited, his legs and the greater part ofhis body still on the outside. He could see nothing, nor did hedare lift his head. On one side of him was a skin bale. He couldsmell it, though he carefully felt to be certain. On the otherside his face barely touched a furry garment which he knew clotheda body. This must be Sipsu. Though he wished she would speakagain, he resolved to risk it.He could hear the chief and the witch doctor talking high, and ina far corner some hungry child whimpering to sleep. Squirmingover on his side, he carefully raised his head, still justtouching the furry garment. He listened to the breathing. It wasa woman's breathing; he would chance it.He pressed against her side softly but firmly, and f


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