I said, “No, I wasn’t.” She said she figured it out since I was communicating with the cashier in Hindi. Then we engaged in some banter. She tol... me that she was from Mumbai and got married to a guy from there. She has been living there for a few years. In whatever little time we spoke I ensured that I made her laugh a lot. Then, as I stood up to leave she asked me if I minded sharing my number.I gave it to her and jokingly said I’m hoping to hear from you soon. Then moved on to my car and. . no sign that any had even grown on my face at all...I made a point to select a fresh razor from the medicine cabinet as I applied shaving foam to my face, rubbing it over my chin and upper lip. If I couldn't wash while I was doing this, I wanted to get the details out of the way. It kept both of my hands busy, away from the throbbing pain between my legs. I thought about eighties hair bands, about report cards, about the fat slob lab monitor that trundled around with a bucket of friend. I told her that if she wanted to watch me do it I'd be happy to oblige. She then surprised me by telling me that she'd been chatting to a girl at work who's husband had had a similar experience and that it turned her on as well. They had been hatching a plan to get us together so that they could watch us.That weekend we went over to their house for a meal and to see how things went. We enjoyed a Chinese take away and more than a couple of glasses of wine before Angela turned to my wife. The first glass never touched the side's even though she did think it tasted chalky then another and another, the last glass was sipped slowly as she stripped for a shower. She went to the bathroom, still more circle and dot paintings, must have bought a job lot she thought.She stood there and let the water cascade over her before she started to wash herself over, her little rough scrubbing cloth felt good as it invigorated her shapely body; it glided up and down her long firm legs before it.