There are times to talk and times to shut up and let the other person decide what should be said and when."I didn't think this would bother me at all,...Pat. I thought it would just be another thing that had to be done. I guess I was wrong." Six years is a long time, Del. You had a lot invested in that marriage. I'm sorry for you that it ended this way." Yeah ... me too. I'll tell you what, though. I'm having a hard time feeling sorry for myself. I'm pissed that it came to this, but I'm not. By the time we were inside I was set a bit.So once inside I dropped my pallu after turning my back to Rajan and started to squeeze water out of it. When I turned around Rajan too had taken off his kurta and he was squeezing it dry . We stared at each other, me admiring his hairy chest and the muscles of his forearms and him staring at my gogeous full breasts quivering inside the now transperent saree.My eyes travelled south to see that there was an appreciable bulge in his trousers. I turned. Anyway once we three were having an afternoon party (it’s usually hosted by one of us and we end up on the same bed for intimate talk). We discuss everything like how our husband sare fucking us, how many times, in what way and all that. We really enjoy sharing.Eventually the inevitable happened and we all three got pregnant within a span of 3-4 months. We were continuing our weekly afternoon sessions. One went like this. Ramya was fondling my boobs and saying….’hey Neeta your boobs are really. Kelly fingered thebridge of the glasses and wondered just what sort of eyewearsomeone who belonged in this room would wear.Finally, he got up and stripped off the PJ's and laid them on thebed. He stood in the pink, lace-edged panties looking in themirrors again. The tiny bulge of his boyhood made hardly awrinkle in his feminine underpants.He turned left and right, looking at himself and blushing. Hissoft, slender arms and legs, delicate pixie-like face, mop ofdark-blonde hair--even nearly naked.