South Indian Aunty -1
While your wife finishes dressing you invite him into your lounge and give him a drink to help him relax. The taxi is already booked and as you hear your wife coming down the stairs you take out your wallet and from it thrust a wad of notes into his hand. “Please take this and have dinner on me,” you tell him, in obedience to your wife’s humiliating instruction. As your wife makes an entrance in all her finery you see his excitement and surprise at how she looks. You watch how she goes over to. There were only two other Sicceians nearby. Of her father there was no sign. Where were the others? She sighed. Since she had woken in the cell, she had seen no one. Twice a day food had appeared in a recess in the wall of her prison. At least it had been edible, unlike the foul mush Sicceian prisoners were fed.The door opening made her start. Two burly Tyrannian Marines walked through followed by a Mylian officer. "Stand up," the officer barked. Aesia stood. "Turn round."Aesia complied, her. It seems that more and more shit will have to come out. But that was a false toilet pressure due to irritation of my rectum canal. My gaand was burning and etching severely.I came out from toilet, and said “what you did today raja. I was not expecting that you may be so cruel to me, today you did not fuck me but gave me a torture.” Now he had come to sense and understood my condition. He said “I was not knowing that anal fucking is so painful to women.He asked sorry repeatedly. And went to. We'd sing along enthusiastically to Simon and Garfunkel's greatest hits, until she'd fall into a drunken sleep. She was a hippy, a punk, a rebel and a drunk, often angry, very unreliable, but always happy to see me, and I loved her with all my heart. I wiped away my tears and raised my bottle to the sky. "Cheers mum." I was dragged from my perfect revelry by a gentle knock on the front door. "Hello?" A soft female voice called through the fly screen. I don't want company today. I want to.
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