It’s a fantasy story about my neighbor aunty. With whom I want to get intimate but never got a chance.As it’s my 1st story I hope you all will exc...se me for my mistakes. Please do feedback my story on id- Let me tell you about myself first I am 21 years old. I am 6.1 feet tall; normal body, medium complexion not too fair.The actress of the story her name is Shilpa. She stays on ground floor of my apartment. I always watch her from my bedroom window and sometime she is standing in her flats. "He followed her back to her room at the end of the trailer, where she sat on the bed, looking up at him. Neither of them seemed to know what to say.Finally Julie said, "I'm sorry I can't be your girlfriend any more. I'm glad you still want to be friends, though."Bobby smiled at her. "You can never have too many of those. I'm just starting to figure that out myself." Well, thanks," she said softly. She stared at her hands in her lap. "Bobby... I'm pretty fucked up. The only times I haven't felt. How many had she shed? How many little manifestations of her agony had wet the ground here? Had any of them made their way through the cold, hard earth to reach him? Did he know the grief that ate at her soul, even two years after he had left her? Survivor guilt. That’s what all of the so-called experts were telling her, had been telling her. They tried to put a generic label on the void that stood where her life had been, tried to compartmentalize her loss until it fit into tidy little boxes.. We got off and went to the subway. Max was leading the woman confidently putting his arm around her waist. Matthew was very close to them while we were moving through the crowd and touched her here and there. And I was carrying her bags with food behind.“How do they carry such heavy bags through the whole city?” I thought and then remembered my neighbor Elisabeth, 40-year-old lady. Every week she carried the bags as heavy as these ones from the supermarket for she didn’t have a car. Suddenly I.