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I closed my eyes and relaxed into my arousal, with the vision of Diane pushing me onward. I eased a finger inside: I was much wetter and slippery than I remembered, and a finger slid in easily. And it felt so nice. My finger explored inside my pussy tunnel for a few minutes and then I began to gently circle around a seriously sensitive clitoris.Just then there was the sound of a key in the door: I froze in sudden panic! The door opened immediately and there stood Diane -- stopped dead in her at the sight of me spread legged on the bed in front of her with my fingers buried deep in my pussy and a look of total surprise on her face. It took a few scant micro-seconds for the ironic implications of the scene to sink in.I sat up and pulled my panties up and refastened my jeans. I closed my thighs.Diane walked into the room and put her books down on the desk on her side of the room. She pulled out her chair and turned it to face me with a smile. I sobbed “I’ve been trying to do this all. I just look a little like her.Kabir looked straight at her and said, Much better than her. Two yearswe lived together and I didn't notice! Better late than never! Okay andnow I am shy, Anjali blushed and said honestly. They hugged, did theirnext shot of tequila and got back to the party.Place is shutting down. Drop me home? Anjali asked Kabir after an hour.Of course I will. I am a gentleman and that's what our lot does, camethe gallant drunk reply. Anjali laughed. Poor Kabir. She had to takecare of him. Also, she could use him to figure something out aboutherself. Something her therapist had suggested. As they reached herplace, she turned to Kabir and asked, Why don't you stay back heretonight? Its too late and you are too drunk. Sure but please make mesomething to eat. Im starving! Kabir said smiling. Anjali laughed. Shehad made dinner for him many times while they were living together.Kabir was always hungry and she wondered how he stayed in such goodshape.Her mother was travelling.
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Ian looked around. It was a room he’d not been in before. There were a few nice pictures on the walls, and on the bedside table there were a few framed photographs. ‘Your parents?’ Ian asked. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘They have been dead for twenty years now. I still miss them… what about yours?’ ‘Mine lived to be very old,’ Ian said. ‘My father was the last to go, a year ago or so. Yes, I miss them, too. We went on well together. But now…’ ‘Yes,’ she said, and held her arms out to him. ‘Come!’ He stepped into her arms. ‘May I undress you?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘Please,’ she said. Ian slowly removed her clothing, piece by piece – first her dress and shoes which left her standing in her pink underwear and stockings. He looked at her and drank in how lovely she looked. Then he touched her breasts through the cups and stroked her nipples. Kissing her again he clasped his arms around her back and undid her brassiere. She let him slide it down her arms. He looked at her again. ‘I’m so glad you.

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