But here in his private sanctuary, sealed away fromthe outside world, he held no fear of being overheard. Here he could thinkhis own thoughts, speak t...em aloud, and truly be himself. The him wholiked pretty things, instead of the him that held such a bleak job. It wasalways a relief to get home and escape from reality.Well almost always. Today he was unable to fully immerse himself in hisfantasies, his job would not let him. He could gaze fondly at the prettythings in his closet, smile at their. Unke haath mein sirf peticot aur boluse tha. Bathroom ke darwaje mein ek ched tha. Kuch der baad maine us ched se dekha to aunty bilkul nangi thi. Or apni chut par shave kar rahi thi. Shave karne ke baad unhone sare badan par sabun lagaya. Or phir bina bra or bina panty ke paticot pehna. Phir mein ched se hat gaya. Ched se hat te hi bathroom mein us ched se roshni gayi. To shayad unhe shaq ho gaya tha. Isliye jab woh bahar aayi to unhone darwaja dhyan se dekha or phir meri taraf dekh kar halka. Maybe more; I was in a fog of pain. When shestopped, she said, "Stand up and adjust your clothes."Then: "Are you sorry now?"I said, "Yes, Ma'am, I'm sorry." Yes, you're sorry what? Tell me why you're sorry." I'm sorry you stopped beating me," I said.She burst out laughing. "Oh, you...!" she cried and threw down theflogger. "You're hopeless!"-+-[Note: in New York, men regularly go through the subways, solicitingalms for tramps. It got me to thinking: what if...?]He came into the middle of. I couldn’t believe that I got to touch her again. The next afternoon was laundry day. Naturally, maggi(my wife) was too much of a lazy ass to do such chores, so I did it myself. I was finishing one load when Sema walked in. “Hey, Depesh,” she said with an almost sultry tone. I waved weakly as she walked over to the vending machines. She selected an item, purchased it, and sat on the washing machine next to mine. “How’re things?” she asked brightly. She looked really hot today; she had really.