He stopped them from touching feet , saying In Punjab we don’t let our daughters touch our feet but we worship them by touching their feet during ...avratra and blessed both the girls by touching their heads. Both daughters were more beautiful than their mother. Rupali offered him a plate of snacks and a cup of tea. Then Rupali started telling all about her family, particularly about her husband, daughters, and thanked him for his early arrival so that they would not be left alone.In the. ”“Sorry.” I blushed again, my face turning tomato red. “I’m just nervous.”“You don’t have to be; it’s just me.”“I know,” I sighed. “I really can’t help it.”“Are you glad to see me at least?” he asked.“You know I am.” I smiled at him, feeling the butterflies in my stomach intensify. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him to me. His arms wrapped around my waist, and I suddenly relaxed. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his body against mine. He felt. I had always known that about him.We had worked together keeping the house tidy. I never had to badger himto do anything. He was so helpful before, during, and after our hostingfamily, friends, and neighbors. He continued to explain that he had longcraved to express his cleaning inclination in the most ultimate way: as aFrench maid.Of course, I interrogated him about his sexual fantasies. Gay? No. Trans?No. Cuckhold? No. Sissified? No. Babyfied? No. Feminized? No. And on andon I asked. I was up. Un momento... ?peluquer?a? Bueno... claro. Todas las mujeres se hacencosas en el pelo y el m?o, salvo por su longitud, parec?a el mismo desiempre, masculino y sin estilo alguno. Mejor no pensar en ello y entrarde una vez al agua...??Ah! ?a?adi?, desde el otro lado de la puerta? Y recuerda esto: mejorestar guapa y tardar m?s, que correr y dejar alguna imperfecci?n.Aquellas palabras quedaron marcadas a fuego para siempre en misubconsciente: la belleza, lo primero.As? que volv? a quitarme las.