Mature Indian Bhabhi With Her Husband Gettign...

We must be close. I pick up my pace, narrowing the gap between us, and she skitters off again just as I’m close enough to reach out and touch. The trees clear, and the brush beneath our feet turns to solid stone. At least, solid stone up until the edge, where the rock face drops ten feet into a lake. She stands at the cliff’s edge, so close her toes almost curl over. Breathless, chest heaving, she looks back to me, her grin stretching from ear to ear. ‘What do you think?’ The moon reflects in the lake, making it a study in black and white and blue. The sounds are deafening, the sounds of the city stripped away, amplifying the tiniest rustle of leaves or the intake of her breath into shouts that cut through me. And yet, despite the natural spectacle before me, my eyes can’t help but return to her, the look of serenity and belonging awash over her face, the unavoidable knowledge that there is nothing and no one to stop me from getting what I want. What we want. As if reading my. ”“Lena, first, you’re my best friend. What sort of friend wouldn’t try to console his friend if she was having a crisis?”“What’s second?” she whimpered.“I’m old, you’re young...”“I know how old you are, Jay.”“But...”She pulled her face back a bit. I started to let go of her but she shook her head. “No. It needs to be this close.”We gazed at each other for a moment, our faces only inches apart.“Remember when you stayed at your Dad’s right after your divorce?”“Yeah.”“Your mom had been gone a year. Your dad loved having you there. I came over almost every day, because that’s what we’d worked out. I’d come over, vacuum, do laundry, just help him with the house. You sort of took some of my work, but I still came over. The three of us used to sit on the porch in the evening and talk.”“I know. Helped me get over the divorce.”“I remember talking to just you. Your dad was in his garden.”“You asked how I was dealing with the divorce. What I liked that made me marry ‘er, what happened.”“I was.
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