The house seemed silent, almost as if no one was at home. Something felt wrong. She observed that Pratik’s clothes were thrown astray.“Someone was...clearly in a hurry,” she thought to herself. Then she tiptoed toward the bedroom, trying her best to catch her cousin brother red-handed. As she neared the bedroom, she heard the sounds of smooching. Rajshri smiled to herself. Her little brother was enjoying.As she neared the door, she heard her brother moan, “Aaahhh Himani, kya mast choochiyan hai. She knew they couldn't be seen together in public, yet yearned to walk down the street holding hands, going out to dinner or attending a concert with her young paramour.She was also aware of the pensive stares she sometimes got from Donald. She knew he had to be suspicious or at the very least puzzled by her frequent absences, the excuses for which were beginning to wear a bit thin. It had been almost a month since she and Donald had made love. The last time had been quite unsatisfactory for. More

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