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Aur blouse ke upar se bhabhi ki breast touch karney lag gaya. Bhabhi ki nipples bilkul seedhi kahdi ho gayee thi. Bhabhi ne kuch nahi kaha phir mainey unkey cheeks par kiss kar diya. Bhahi ki saansey garam ho chuki thi. Phir bhahbi boli. Namit please aisa mat karo. Main samjha gya tha ki bhabhi garam ho chuki hain lekin bas lok lajja ke kaaran woh res ponse nahi de rahee thi. Mainey bhabhi ko bola bas ek baar kisi se nahin kahunga. Bhabhi ne kha nahi namit ye sab theek nahi hai. Apney par control karo. Main bola nahi ho raha bhahbi aur bhabhi ka pallu bhahi se alag kar diya. Bhabhi ne apne hathin se dhak liya. Phir mainey bhabhi ke blouse ki neechey wali hook khol di. Bahbhi mana karney lage mainey bhabhi ke balon mein laga clutcher khol diya. Aur unki gardan par kiss karney laga. Bahbhi beech beech mein kehti rahee namit mat karo aisa kisi ko pata chal jayega kya kahega. Aur phir tumhare bahiya aur mere relations. Main sab kuch ansuna karta raha. Bhabhi ne thodi der mein apney haath. She reached into her purse again and withdrew a very old leather-covered book, about the size of a modern paperback. She found a place, marked by a red ribbon, and spread the book open on her lap. Then, in a soft but firm voice, she began reading in Latin. I knew better than to interrupt, and was thankful, at least, that there were no reeking flowers involved. As she continued, though, pausing only to turn the pages, her voice seemed to be a living thing, wrapping itself around me, holding me, seeping through my skin and into every part of my body. Something was definitely happening to me. Something wonderful. Something overwhelming. I don’t think I fell asleep. Perhaps I fainted. All I know is that after some indeterminable amount of time, I opened my eyes to find myself lying flat on my back, stretched out on the carpeted floor, my arms at my sides. Jean was stretched out beside me on her left side, her head propped up by her left hand, her body so close to mine that I could feel.
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”“So you fucked your wife,” Ashley says, though the amount of venom in her tone is quite a bit less than before. “I guess you have to keep up appearances. Maybe, this Mela is just a dream.”“I thought so too,” he admits. But when she asked if I was ready to go again ... it didn’t make any sense.”“Maybe you did fuck her once already, and you were thinking of someone else,” her voice peters out toward the end. It even takes on a bit of sadness. “I would like to think it would be me you think about when screwing your wife, but I guess I have competition.”“No, no,” he quickly says, practically leaping from his chair to wrap his arms around the woman and comfort her. “I do think of you, a lot. But even then, she seems to be there too.”Ashley pushes away, not because she doesn’t want to be held by the man, but because she has an idea. “Maybe she’s your mistress.”“What?” Anders asks, totally thrown off by the comment. “You’re technically my mistress.”“No, I don’t mean it that way,” she says,.

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