It is a model for her for what love is.”“I have a purpose here. To seduce the girl.”“And entice the boy to join.”“How is he special?”“...hey both are. He’s a scribe and illustrator with a beautiful and skillful hand. Art perhaps given to him by his mother, who sculpts. She created the Buddha. And she’s a poet.”“How perfect. I can inspire her to write great epics about our people.”“Clever girl,” Chanda approves.“And I suppose he’s shy,” Sokhen smirks at Nick who shrugs.“Not after you break through. His friends had carried him back for me, so that he could sleep off the booze. He had been hard at it with some of his friends since noon, and was so drunk I knew I wouldn’t see him again until late the next day. I put a glass of water next to his bed and shut the door and went back out to the party. The party had gone from around 75 to about 30 as all the drunks left. The only ones left were my boyfriends friends and guys that had seen him drunkenly fingering me on the couch. He had no idea. Clad in his sister's nightie, panties, and pantyhose while he masturbated gave him the most intense orgasm that he had ever experienced up to that time. He thought about the nightgown that he had worn, washed, and hidden in the basement and decided not to return it to his sister's room.Since his sister admitted that she no longer wore them, he was sure that it wouldn't be missed. He would recover it and hide it in his room and maybe wear it to bed one night when he was sure that there was no. The ashram in about half an acre was set in sylvan surroundings with hills on one side, a gurgling rivulet nearby, plenty of greenery and quaint cottage type dwelling units for a handful of inmates. The head of the ashram was a swamini aged about 32 with striking good looks. She was tall, dark, had large breasts, full lips, sharp nose, and jet black straight hair coming right down to her waist and piercing black eyes. She looked like Manju Bhargavi of sankarabharanam fame. She never did her.