'Answer me!', I demanded, grabbing at your crotch under your skirt feeling the wetness and heat spreading through your underwear. You shuddered at the hardness of my touch, pressing yourself almost involuntarily against my hand needing something to take the pressure off the mounting ache. 'Answer me now!', I commanded a final time, making it very clear that a response was unavoidable. '...yes...', you whispered quietly. 'What was that?', I responded, wanting to hear you say it out loud. . I like to think I have given her a purpose,” I said.“I just wanted to meet you, and say thanks,” he said.“Come back anytime,” I said.“Now that I know she is aright. That’s all I wanted. Seeing her is too painful,” he said. Then he shook my hand and left. The man was going and I didn’t even get his name. Mikah knew him and that was enough. I didn’t need to know his name, in order to know him. The name I should have gotten was his wife’s killer. Whoever that was man, woman, or child had debt to. Working in sales, she liked to take care of her appearance. She was forty-four and loosing the battle of the bulge. Although not exactly fat she was large framed and carried a few too many pounds; they had piled up on her breasts, which she didn't mind so much, and on her ass and thighs which she hated. She was always well dressed, usually in a business suit, blouse, hose and heels; well coiffured, she had recently had crimson highlights subtly streaked through her brunette bob, and she always. She opened the door and it was like a heaven. She was wearing a sleeveless black transparent saree with low cut blouse exposing her bulky cleavage. Hair was nice tied up and I can sense the smell of jasmine on her head. She welcomed me and I asked her if she is going out. She said am I that bad to invite you and go out. I went in and while she was walking back, her back is so pretty much exposed with just a string holding her blouse and she wore the saree below her navel. Once I’m in she locked.
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