” I said, “Wear a saree and come.”She didn’t respond to anything. I was waiting for her in the living room. She opened the door of the bedroom...and she was exactly as I was thinking. She wore a red saree with a black blouse. I was aroused by her look. She came to me and sat beside me.I held her face with my hands and gave a lip kiss. It was deep, to a certain extent where she pulled me and gave another kiss. Then we exchanged our saliva through a kiss. I then pressed her boobs from outside her. Her father was one such person. His pain never left, it cycled like the ocean, like the moon, like daylight. He looked at his daughter, the beautiful woman she had become, perhaps because of him, perhaps in spite of him.The incredible pain coursed though him as he held back, over the years he quelled his instinct, his desire and his staggering need. Alcohol helped for a while, but soon he needed more, the end of a needle disappearing into his flesh, penetrating him in some twisted. More

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