He noticedthe lipstick now on my wine glass."I don't know what it is about the clothes and all, I don't think anyonedoes. Just a weird deal all aroun...," I said as I finished the wine. Hepoured me another."What are you padding your bra with?" he asked."I...I just roll up some old pantyhose, it seems to work," I returned. "That's quite an outfit though," he said. "Women sure don't dress thatway anymore! Too bad too. I really like that style," he said as hefinished his wine and poured himself. When the last minute opportunity for the sessional position had come up, it was his advisor who pushed him to try it. ‘Great experience teaching an intro course. Good preparation for a career in academics. Looks great on your resumé,’ he had been told. With three hours of lectures a week, office hours, monitoring online discussion groups and prep time, Paul realized the ‘great experience’ was also slave labor. With the meager pay scale for sessional lecturers added to his grad student stipend. It was exactly in the morning I could see her clearly and knew her better during conversation. She was very fair, average-beautiful and almost of my same build. She wore a transparent polyester saree and a low cut blouse revealing a little upper part of her boobs. Her boobs might be 34C if not 36. It would be difficult for anyone to choose if her big boobs or her thick parted thirsty-looking lips made her look more sexy. Luckily for me, the other passengers in our coupe were labors from an. I reached the the hotel in my bike and parked it. Went to her room and rang the bell. I was nervous and my body was cold and my cock was getting solid. She opened the door and there she was Mrs. X. Height 5′ 6 , fair complexion, brown eyes , 36C 28 36 figure, age 35 in a black transparent Sari. I was speechless. I came in and I was still nervous.She asked me about me and told me she was hungry and she wanted to go for dinner. I took her to a nice restaurant in Kormangala. We had booked a dim.