In our conversations I asked him “Guatam, where in life would you want to see yourself” with alcohol in his body the answer was quick and slurry �...�Sir… where you’re sitting now” I played sport, I said “That’s not hard (and I got up from the chair with my drink in hand)”. He looked at me surprised and said “Sir I meant in life”, I said “Yeah OK, but for now you can sit on that chair”.He didn’t agree but I anyways plonked myself on the floor next to him, with my back to balcony wall. We sat there. When I reached his place, he welcomed me with a smile. A clear reflection of Black and White arises when he smiles. He was wearing a blue lungi and a shirt on that with the upper three buttons opened.His house was clean but it was stinking with the smell of cigarettes and may be whisky.We were sitting on the sofa and he started talking about the events at Scindia School. He was clearly wasting the time. He asked me if I wanted to have tea or juice, to which I refused politely. After a while he. Next he looked at his crouch, it was covered by a leather belt. He thought the belt looked appeared to be a male chastity belt, like ones he had read about it porn magazines. Reaching behind his back, John felt for a release, instead he encountered a small padlock. The belt would stay on until he could find the key. Wow! He must have been really wasted to allow all of this to have happened, and he didn't remember a thing.John decided to find the women he had slept with, and get her to. The insides of her big thighs were milky white and as smooth as silk on glass. My lips kept moving upwards, gently kissing her warm skin that was as soft as sin. I could smell her now, the same warm musky scent I’d smelt in the car when she’d let the flowing air wash up between her legs. It smelled wonderful, like a woman should smell. It wasn’t offensive or overpowering, just the intoxicatingly delicious fragrance of someone who was all woman. “Mmmmm,” I let out a little groan of contentment.
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