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She used to do cooking, washing clothes and utensils.About her, she was good looking, a good figure and was much beautiful.She used to call her meena aunty. She was much friendly with me, served me what I wanted.She comes at morning 8 and evening 5 at our home.Now coming to the story, at first I didn’t have any bad intentions for her but as time went on I started liking her a lot. A strong sexual grew within me for her.As she used to work I always used to steal glances of her, look at breast. Finally she broke the silence by whispering between breaths, "I can't stop." Afraid my silence would scare her, I replied with "Are you wet?" Confused by my question she asked "Couldn't you tell?" Truth be told, I didn't notice when I tried to lick her pussy, so I said no. Still on her knees she opened up her legs and softly said, "how about you check now." My hand moved up her soft thighs, feeling the warmth of her pussy as I get closer and closer to the middle. Her soft hairs around her. That is where I met him, something happened. I can’t explain it, anyone else I would have walked around and continued on, but there was something. Who knows? Fate, Kharma, God, luck? I have no idea, he got into my head and never left. Just a filthy, dirty, stinking street reject, begging for coins from the sidewalk! Yes, walk right on by! I didn’t. By the time I had him set up in an apartment it was really obvious that this wasn’t ‘just a guy’, there was more. Intelligent, more than that, close. Another was of a reasonably high-end streetwalker, wearing what was either a long-sleeved knit shirt, or maybe minidress, with long bare legs.It was grounds for a mental laugh to flash back to high school and recall some lovely images. I remembered a time when Shelley and I were not especially on speaking terms, but I watched her, on a bus, struggle with trying to get her first miniskirt to cover her stocking tops. Another was from class, thinking of Carol the D, the cheerleader captain, seated.
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