Hank tried the aluminum bar handle. The door drifted open, silent and heavy as a freshly-oiled Mercedes. We looked at each other with the glee of cons...iratorial children, and stepped inside. Stanley’s private den was a celebration of bureaucratic hedonism. The hand-knotted custom rug hushed our footsteps in a cradle of wool and silk. A heavy bust of some philosopher topped a gleaming marble pedestal, spotlighted in a CD-sized halo. A few expensive-looking paintings looked down with a haughty. I decided we would let prakash sleep on the couch, and we would take our place on the floor. I had a very crazy idea. I wanted to make love to mala with prakash watching. It was her old dream, anyway. I guessed she would like it. Besides, he was her ex-boyfriend, it was another spicy moment. The couch and the mattress were very close to each other. It was rather hot and stuffy in the room, though the windows were opened. We went to bed. Mala was wearing a short gown and prakash lay on the bed. More

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