This is how I got her number, but never messaged her as was afraid of being judged by her as a pervert.So I took little steps and started sending joke... and good morning messages, on which she used to reply me too with some nice jokes and messages. This went on for 4-5 months.One day while speaking to her on texts in the evening, the conversation happened like this:Me: bhabhi, you were looking very gorgeous in that black saaree today. ;)Bhabhi: thanks sid, you always give compliments when I wear. I knew she was excited. I put my finger in her pussy and started giving her finger fuck. She was enjoying it. Of course she was making may penis feel heavenly by slowly jerking it but i did not want cum like that.The train was running very fast with out any stop. In the rhythmic beat of the train i wished the husband uninterrupted sleep on upper berth, as i was feeling and enjoying his wife just a few centimeters down /away from him.It was thrill to see and feel a woman’s pussy and boobs,. The first time for me was when I looked into his eyes and saw his joy, as he lay atop of me, bearing down and humping my small body, the pain between my legs melted away as his thrusting became more violent, he was closing in on that forbidden pleasure, just a few more strokes, and it would be over for me, but the beginning for him, he had been proven right, in his minds eye, and now as he ejaculated deep inside me, with his seminal warmth spreading behind my stomach, we had done it, and all. Fucking is hard to forget. In fact, I don’t want to forget. I only hope if I ever get to do that with Carol or any other girl it will be as good. That was really, really, good last night. And there is Carol’s house. I knocked on the door, it was answered by an older version of Carol. She held her hand out to me and said, “You must be John. I am Brenda Martin, Carol’s mother. Please come in. It will be a couple minutes until Carol is ready.” I shook her hand and stepped in. As I turned.