She belonged to an upper class family. Her husband used to work in an editorial company in Delhi. He used to come only on weekends. This is what led t... a sexual relation between us.Whenever she used to call our team for the group meeting to discuss which project we are going to make, I used to stare at her. Every day I attended her class. I never missed her lecture. I used every single excuse so that I could talk to her. I just enjoyed her company a lot.A time came when she gave me her contact. ”“Did I pass the test?” Her voice was small and quiet.“No test, my dear. You have been through an incredible experience. We both have. The pinnacles of truth can be clarifying, but also draining. We will speak of this soon, but for now, trust me to take care of you. You need this time.” He caressed her shoulder lovingly though her back stung even against the blanket.She leaned forward and lay her head in his lap to relieve the pain from her reddened bottom. Her vision blurred a moment from. And my left hand could almost touch her hip. We both were feeling the heat between us. I slightly brushed her hip and boobs over her blouse. This made her shiver.I could sense my dick getting hard in the shorts. She moved a bit with my act. There was again a small gap between us. I felt bad and adjusted my position and started watching the movie again. Now the phone was in my hand and I had rested it over my left thigh.She wanted to forward a song portion. She moved her hand near the mobile. She switched her eyes back to Fred. Connie’s pale body was painted with tattoos like graffiti on an abandoned subway station. The ink was totally indelible and the slogans would remain with her until her ransacked body had shrivelled into old age. The largest slogan was a warning to all. In turquoise letters, rimmed in black, were the words:I BETRAYED MY SPONSORThe livid words ran from her bicep, across the front of her shoulders and throat, to her other bicep. But there were numerous others in.
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