"What'd I tell you about that boy?!" He was protecting me," I pleaded, looking up at my mother. I could tell she was tempted to sit on my bed with me....From what?!" She exclaimed, flailing her arms around."I don't know," I sighed. "Joel called me a faggot and Jordan--" Wait," said my mom. "Joel?!" I nodded. "Lemme call his parents right now." She got out her phone, but I stood up and stopped her."Mom, no!" I cried. "Stop. Please." She stared at me, then at her cell phone. "Please." She sighed,. He approached and had her turn around. Facing the mirror over a dresser she watched him in it, as he unzipped her dress. He first bared her back and shoulders, kissing each one, lightly biting first one then the other. Biting harder. Her breathing quickened. He'd always had that effect on her. She held herself still for him as the dress was pushed off and onto the floor. He then removed her bra. He reached for her hair and took it out of its bun. He ran his fingers through it as he untwisted. Although civil to each other there was no 'relationship' between husband and wife. There was no intimacy, like a touch, a smile or anything that would be considered 'a good marriage'. She had sucked him off but she knew men who were devoted to their wives, but wouldn't know back a quickie if the opportunity arose. However, this husband was different; he would seize that opportunity and couldn't give a stuff about his wife. When she asked about his late nights, mainly to put her observations to. How are you?I invited her to a nearby coffee house to talk for a while. She told her husband is working in the States for the last 7 years. Her son, too, is studying in Delhi, and she is living with her mother in the same city.I saw this as a chance to get close to her and maybe bang my crush too. I was sitting opposite her on the table, sipping coffee. I shared her about my job and everything. When I told her that I’m single, she gave a thoughtful glance.Sharon: Sarfaraz, when are you.