Her boobs were lush, not too big but hugged perfectly to her salwar. I often got a hard on staring at her through my balcony when she’d sit in their...front yard on that swaying chair. I wanted to fuck her. Tear that salwar off her lustful body, feel her beneath me, her rhythmic breaths and moans on my ears. Of course it was all a fantasy and I never expected anything of this sort to happen. It was obvious that they were in a failing marriage. They didn’t fight but mrs sharma always looked sad. It’s the young man to pick up our lunch tray. I tell him just a sec and turn to get my robe and then pause in mid step. I turn back around and open the door wide and say come on in. I look at Liam and he is practically rolling as he keeps his laughter quiet, damn does he read my mind? That infuriates me, why does it feel like his making fun of me? As if I can’t come up with an original idea, which makes me mad and I suppose eggs me on. With a startling realization, I guess part of me wants to. More

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