“But…” he was interrupted again, “Don’t worry. I’ll clean later. So where was I…”The past memory was so strong that Pramila continued ...o narrate the story not worrying about the falling glass or few drops of sharbat on the floor or something else. Arun patiently listened what she had to say, perhaps he wasn’t listening at all since all the necessary blood was rushing to his eyeballs to photograph the moment. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.A few seconds ago when the glass fell and. ”“And if you did? But you’re right, let’s talk and learn a bit about each other some more. Then I’ll drag you off to bed and ravish you.”“Oh yes, please ... Maybe I can convince you to go down on my, and lick me again? I really, really enjoyed that. Maybe I can try to do the same to you, too?”“Deal. Now, what shall we start with? Maybe you can tell me more about your life growing up, your family, stuff like that? And I can do the same.”She told me about her childhood in greater detail; growing. I'll just say this. I'm an alcoholic because when I was your age – 18, 19 or 20 – I didn't learn the difference between a relaxing party and a hard party."Even in a situation like this, I would drink until I passed out or threw up or put myself in a dangerous situation. In fact, it was in Las Vegas when I realized that I couldn't drink even a little any longer. I realized it when I woke up on my birthday with no memory of how I got to Las Vegas let alone what I'd done once I got here. But that. She watches, wide-eyed, as I circle around to the end of the table where her beautiful bare feet are strapped and waiting. "Please, don't do this to me," she releases a deep, ragged breath, "just let me go, PLEASE!" Who do you belong to?" I ask.She wants to look away, but my teasing gesture keeps her eyes glued to the feather. "Come now my ticklish little pet." I lean in closer and voice the question again, my tone, casually indulgent. "Who do you belong to?"Silence.I can almost feel her heart.