Ab wo mujhse daily phone par baat karti thi main bhi usse daily phone par baat karta tha. Main aur pooja ek dusre ko school me bhi apna lunch share ka...ke khate the sablog hame dekh kar jalte the main pooja se bahut pyar karta tha. Aur pooja bhi mujhse bahut pyar karti thi main agar chahta to pooja ko hotel me le jakar chod deta lekin main pooja ko apne ghar chodna chahta tha. Kyuki main nahi chahta tha. Pooja ko hotel me chodna aur mujhe chudayi ka bahut man karta tha. Main ek din pooja ko apne. Perhaps Bodge and Fuckit, those well-known lawyers, may help with a restraining order? Dear Ms CommaWell aren't you an uppity little piece of shit. What is your purpose again? All you are is a brief pause for breath. Common as muck. Infiltrating your way into sentence after sentence yet adding nothing. The uninteresting half of a semi-colon. An apostrophe that's lost its va-va-voom and fallen flatter than the souffle I attempted on 'The Bake Off' pre-heats. Quite why her gothic nerd-ness ever. We had a casual conversation for maybe half an hour. Later, she asked me whether I would like to freshen up. I wanted to, so I agreed. She guided me towards her washroom and asked me to freshen up, and in due course, she said that she will prepare a drink for us.I did accordingly. I had been preparing myself for this time with utmost care as this was going to be a great one. The moment I finished off, I came out of the washroom.Poonam asked to be seated on her bed. She brought me fresh fruit. He was on his back and she was just bouncing up and down on his cock to beat the band, staring at me through the windshield.“Would you look at this shit!” I said to no one.However, Samantha answered, “The nerve of people. Fucking on the hood of a strangers car.”“That’s not a stranger. That’s my wife.”“Your wife!?” Samantha exclaimed.“Yes.”I sat up, put the key in the ignition and started the car, slammed it in reverse and floored it. Willy and her guy flew off the hood with him bouncing his.