Women, and some men, in turn and together, hands running over her skin, her body, her body...sullied...by the touch, using her in all the ways a woman...can be used, and, and, and...it was almost too much to bear. She had lost count of the numbers. She had tried to comfort herself with the thought that the worst must now be over. And yet still it was not enough for them. For her freedom, they had said, it was not enough that others had taken her. No, it would only be enough if she were to. She hadn’t changed a bit in 10-12 years. My gosh! I think she hadn’t put on a single extra kilo.Her dressing sense, too, hadn’t changed with the usual stringed blouse and saree below the waist, showing her deep white navel. My dick actually flicked a bit, seeing her. She was alone, and I greeted her from behind.Me: Hi mam, I hope you remember your student.Sharon: Hey Sarfaraz, how can I forget my most naughty yet smarty student. How are you?I invited her to a nearby coffee house to talk for a. More

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