Hea was humming and making breakfast in the nude when I plodded into the kitchen and plopped down at the table. She had already had a cup of hot coffe... waiting for me. Something she hadn’t done for a long time. Yes, I really needed to thank those two.Seeing her glide around the kitchen naked was nice and it sort of stirred my loins, but not enough to get a rise out of my pecker.Hea told me she liked what Green and Tomkins told her about not wearing clothes in the house so she was going to keep. ) I was feeding breast milk to my kid, turning away from the door, that is, my back was towards the door. I was feeling drowsy after days work. I was wearing a saree – the pallu was thrown carelessly at back side – in front the hooks of my blouse were open. My kid was sleeping tight on my lap while sucking my breast. Suddenly I felt something at back. I looked back and saw that Sabbir was rubbing his hand/palm at my back. I was terrified and sternly asked him to get out. But instead of moving. Talk of their relationship was like treading a minefield, where a false step would send her scuttling or frozen in shock. It was easier to let drift, for things to take their proper course, whatever that was.Sharmila worked hard on his behalf. He watched her one day from his office window as she smoozed with some chain store's area manager. An estate agent waited helpless nearby as she did all the talking. Some skill that, he thought, to render a salesman impotent.He found out a reasonable. Naturally, I write comments to those lost and troubled authors. Many times I email them as well, often recommending they contact a local mental health professional.I scanned the new stories and one looked intriguing. It was called Devotion and the description said "Prim wife lets loose." I clicked on it, took a gulp of wine and started to read.The story was moderately well written and the action flowed logically. Unfortunately, the author weaved personality traits and physical attributes.