She was wearing her usual attire – sari and all. While having dinner, I pretended to cry, which I wanted my mom to see. She did see. She came near m..., took my head in her hands caressed my face with love. My head was resting on her breasts and I could feel her nipples. I slowly started rubbing my lips on her nipples. My mom thought it was happening casually. I put my hand around her waist and embraced her. She now smelt something different. She pushed me aside and told me to control. I saw. She didn't really know what kind of greeting she had expected from her husband, but she certainly hadn't anticipated his coldness, indifference. He didn't care what she was thinking or what she felt about his return. He just didn't care! Fear clutched relentlessly at Sandra's pulsing heart. Was she in danger of losing Mike? Was her marriage actually dissolving in front of her? Numbly, she tried to reassure herself. She knew in her heart that the intoxication of her new found sensual freedom was. More

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