Yes aunty. I am quite shy in these matters.” He said looking away.I laughed.He took my hand and we headed towards the dance floor. The DJ has now ch...nged to the unplugged version of “Bheegi si bhagi si” and the environment looked romantic. His hand on my waist was doing wonders to my lust and the hotness in the air seemed to increase. I looked in his eyes and smiled. My fingers were doing the job on his back while we were dancing in the dim light. I was wearing green sari with backless matching. “So …” said Ana. “Yeah.” Replied Carla, who then glanced back down at her iPhone for the twelfth time in as many minutes. “Got an important business call?” Ana smirked. Carla frowned – looked like she was going to squeeze a word out, but then failed to do so. The frown wouldn’t let go of her face, however, the corners of her mouth sinking till it looked like they were going to dip below her chin. Ana’s mouth flattened. “Is there a problem?” Carla shook her head and hid her eyes, and Ana. But it was, and she glared at him as he nudged his buddies, grinning meanly. Both of them she now realized had teased and bullied her at school, had been there with him several times, laughing as he ridiculed her in front of her classmates. They were both overweight, a fact made plainer when the dark-haired one pulled his greasy t-shirt over his head, then pulled his shorts and underwear down. Becky felt bile rise in her throat at the sight of his flabby white rolls of blubber and his. Sleeping bags. Where was it she had read that most Indian men treated their wives like sleeping bags? It seemed her marriage was fast turning into an Indian cliché. She didn't really blame her husband though. She knew her husband would never be unfaithful to her, and Lord Krishna knew his job had been a killer lately. With their son, Vikram, due to graduate from school in four months, the pressure to save up enough money and get Vikram a good education, maybe even send him to the United States,.
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