I thought she was in some tension. I asked her about her sadness. She didn’t tell anything. After an hour, she came into my room. She said she wante... to share something with me. I told her to share whatever that is in her mind.Then she started telling me their story. It was about their “Sex Life”. She said she had a bad sex life. Also, she was getting too bored with staying alone at home. She had always asked Harshit uncle for a vacation where they can spend time and have some pleasurable. It looked like a sign painter had lived up here. Or at least slept up here—there were no bathroom or cooking facilities, unless you counted the heating plate and coffee pot sitting on the chest."I wonder whose this was?" I don't know," my lady said. "It must have been someone Dad knew. But I've never heard him talk about knowing any sign painters."As we explored the tiny room, I found some bundles of newspapers under the bed. And a box of old magazines sitting in the corner.I looked at the. More

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