He held it out to me. I took it reluctantly, and opened it to read a short, handwritten note from Kavita. “Manu, my dear love, please respect my wis...es to give me privacy and space for one last night with Prem, for closure. I will see you tomorrow, when I move back in with you. Love, Kavita.” I looked closely at it to confirm that it was undoubtedly her handwriting. She added little hearts next to her name, Kavita’s signature markings. I read it over again, staring at the paper. Suddenly, my. She had a son Michael, one year older than me, at 15, and a daughter, Beverly, two years younger than me. I hadn’t even heard of them never mind met them but was used to being “farmed out” when the necessity arose. On the Friday evening I was dropped off at my “Aunt” Debbie’s house and introduced to Michael and Beverly. “Aunt” Debbie looked much like a combination of Sharon Stone and Michelle Pfiffer (If you can imagine such a combination?). Micheal reminded me of a young David Hasslehoff but. It looked beautiful and along with her seething sexuality, I was getting horny."You should see it when it’s freshly done," she said, "The guys go bonkers over it." I bet the girls do too . . . " I replied.With that, she stopped what she was doing. I gulped hard. I didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with her.She smiled at me and placed her hand on my thigh and squeezed ever so slightly."Only the really special ones, my dear," she said as she nodded affirmatively.Whew, I was safe . . . We. I fell to the floor from the agony. Sweat was pouring out ofevery pore. I put my hand to my crotch, trying to find the source of thepain. I gasp as I found only a deflated sack where my balls had been. Ifelt my scrotum disappearing, then my dick shrinking away. My body feltweek,I could not get off the floor, until the pain in my crotch final stopped.Then it felt like an electric current was flowing inside me, my skin wascrawling, as the room started spinning. Everything faded from a soft blurto.