She said “it’s okay” and started speaking about it. She said that Sarath isn’t her biological son. She is her stepson. She married his father ...fter his first wife died in an accident. But, Sarath couldn’t accept her as his mother. He doesn’t talk to her much. He doesn’t even give her much respect.She started speaking about him and soon started weeping. I didn’t know what to do. I put my hand on her shoulder and started consoling her. She stopped crying. I went towards her and gave her a hug. My. “Strip,” was all I said. She looked down. But I lifted her eyes back to me mine by holding her chin and lifting her head up firmly. She blinked and nodded. I stepped back and crossed my arms to watch. She started by taking off her t-shirt. Then her shorts. Then I told her, “Stop.” Then I just looked at her. She blushed standing there in plain skin colored bra like she’d wear to work and white boy-cut panties. I told her, “Turn around.” I looked at her some more, then stepped closer and said. Just near my flat there was a girls pg and there were many girls living there mostly girls were from various colleges of Delhi and some were working girls. All was going good till then on one find day me and one old my friend from the office that it has been a long time pass after college and we have not done sex. I was telling to him that after college 6months have been passed only using the hand, he then asked why am I worried there is a girls pg near my flat it will be easy for me.Then I got. Then a momentary thought and I am lost in anticipation of what ‘She’ will bring this afternoon.‘She’ that is her name. I know no other. I really speak in her presence, only nods and quietly spoken yes when I am instructed, or is that commanded to doing something, usually degrading. No, is not a word allowed, not that it was said but defiance will come at a price was in a message once.Messages… That is how this all started. One weekend alone. John had taken the children to his parents. I wanted.