Dave I was fine with, it was his wife Stacey who made me uncomfortable; because I realized I was becoming obsessed with her.Last week I'd seen her in ...he garden, jeans and straining top tight to her fragile frame; her neck long her face angelic yet not a natural beauty. She was the quintessential girl next door, cute, sweet and achingly fuckable. Our conversation had been dull and like normal I had blushed and acted like a schoolboy. In fact it was getting embarrassing even my wife was starting. She was quite fair with long,jet-black hair bound in a pony tail.Her hair had shine and bounce.She was wearing one gold chain which almost merged in her complexion.Blackbeads were in contrast magnifying her skin radiance. From the position she was sitting, her left breast was not covered by pallau and its’ contours were mouth watering. Her tits were slightly bouncing due to movement of the train. Her blouse was transparent and I could see she was not wearing a bra.She glanced at me and I was. "No mom, I would never," I pleaded"Then what did she mean by that?" mom asked a little calmer.I was looking directly at my mother as I told here "Mom not this time, it's not a topic we should be discussing." I was really hoping she would just drop the subject, but mom makes a living arguing with people, so I figure this will just be the beginning.Mom became flushed as well as a little slack jawed as I finished my statement. All she could muster to say was "Oh" and slowly headed back upstairs.. Remember , it’s your feedback which keeps us coming. So please, do respond on Now, the story…brand new.I was born in a priest family of Brahmins and my earliest recollections of my childhood are often of the temple or of religious gatherings. This dates back to the early 1870s when the English sahibs set up their office in the small village called brahmpuri. It had a small population of around a hundred people and all of them were Brahmins. Since the village was full of beautiful girls and.