"Uncle Mike, Help!" called my rescuer."Cushlamachree!" Exclaimed the barman. Rushing though the open trapdoor at the end of the bar and reaching us as...we levered the lady with the broken boot into a chair, he handed me a clean bar towel which I applied to the cut on my forehead. Cut, Hell! It felt like the grand canyon! As I staunched the blood from my not serious but enthusiastically bleeding head, I took a look at the woman I had helped to rescue. She looked to be about my age or maybe a few. As she moved, Aman couldn’t help but take a deep breath of the perfume Amrita was wearing which was intoxicating. It took him a couple of seconds to recover from it. His eyes couldn’t help but track his boss’ movements and he was stunned as he always was looking at her.Amrita that day was wearing black shorts which showed ample amount of her thighs and a white tight shirt which hugged her slight plump upper body rather too tightly.Even though Amrita was in her early thirties, she never looked. More

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