1 glass muje diya. Main sharbat pite pite unki aur dekh raha tha. Unke blouse me se unki chuchiya bahar aa rahi thi. Unke pet me bal pad rahe the main...ye sab dekh raha tha. Unhone ye notice kiya maine sharbat khatam kiya aur file leker jane laga. Unhone muje pichhe se awaj di “suno arun” main pichhe palat ker kaha “ji bhabhi?” Unhone muje bulaya aur puchha “arun main 2-3 din se kuchh notice kar rahi hun.”Maine kaha “kya bhabhi?” Unhone kaha “kya dekhte ho muj me kya achha laga muj me ?” Maine. So it was that I learned the speech of birds once upon a time. There were no more words, only the language of the flesh, a tidal wave rolling through her as she prayed for resolution, her hands forming fists as well as trees, her toes curling, frustration coloring her every shade of fire imaginable as I left her on the cliff’s edge forever and ever than robbed her of breath and life, my mouth sealing her delightful cavern, finger clenching her buttocks. “Yes oh yes oh yes oh yes.” Like a. More

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